by Bri Stone
“Uh huh.” She sprayed a stain on one of her shirts with Shout.
“Um I was looking for hair gel in your bathroom. I sort of found your birth control pills.” She froze. Shit. Abort mission.
It wasn’t like we didn’t talk about stuff like this. We literally have in depth phone calls about how bad the sex I had with some girl was. Plus, I’m pretty sure I was the first one she told about getting her period.
“What?” Okay, she definitely heard me.
“Lori, just tell me to fuck off if I’m over stepping.” I sat back and folded my arms above my chest.
She spun around to look at me, but she was fighting a smile. Okay, good sign.
“I just…it just threw me off. Seeing the pills, because I know you’re…you would have told me if you finally lost your virginity. I assume.”
She giggled. I breathed a sigh of relief. I expected some yelling.
Yeah, Lori is still a virgin at 22. I wasn’t judging or anything, believe me. I always thought it was cute or endearing. She didn’t have much to say when I lost it at sixteen and I didn’t want to make it a thing. But I knew she would tell me if she did. I just knew.
“Yeah…I would have.” I nodded. She wiggled her brow and smiled.
“What?” I laughed. She shook her head and kept laughing. Long, stifled giggles until she let out a little snort that made me laugh harder.
“Dillon, you’re a smart guy, I can’t believe you saw birth control pills and the first thing you think is I’m…losing it and going at it all of a sudden?” She jutted her chin and narrowed her eyes.
“Well…yeah.” She rolled her eyes with a scoff. She laughed again before she said anything else.
“God, Dillon. I take birth control to control my periods,” she spoke slowly, “you know, controlling the heavy flow.” I felt my face get hot. I swallowed and nodded once.
“Oh.” I wasn’t squeamish or anything. I shouldn’t be if I want to be a doctor. But I really wasn’t expecting that. My mind must really be out of it. I blame her shorts.
“Yeah.”
“When is your dad getting back?” I asked her after a while.
“Not until tomorrow. He had to change his days to be there for my graduation so he’s working a double.”
“Oh.”
Her dad always worked the worst hours. Growing up, she was alone a lot so I spent more time with her. It got worse after her sister left for school. We were only ten at the time but I knew she shouldn’t be alone. Firemen had the worst hours, right up there with surgeons I guess.
“Can we go to the mall? I need to get some clothes.” I asked her. I didn’t bring my car with me, thinking I would drive one of the cars at my house but, like I said, I’m not going there.
“Yeah, sure. I’m gonna shower real fast and then we can go.” She finished up and skipped out of the laundry room.
I watched after her, her long black hair swaying behind her. Maybe I should tell her before Christmas, or New Years. Or any time soon because it’s eating me alive.
Four:
“Are we going straight to the bar after?” I sat on Lori’s bed, scrolling through Facebook on my phone.
Everyone was getting engaged.
“Yeah!” I shouted back, she was still in the bathroom.
“Okay…eyes!” I sighed and closed my eyes, throwing my forearm over my head.
It was something we did, when she’s getting dressed she just says ‘eyes’ and I close up.
I heard her moving around the room but I didn’t peak. Yeah, I am a gentleman you know. It took a few minutes before she gave me the go ahead.
“You look nice.” Though she looked better than nice.
Her tan, what are they called? Jeggings? Hugged her curves just right. Her cream-colored sweater hung off her shoulder a bit. Her neck exposed, her black waves falling around her face.
“Thanks.”
She sat down at her vanity and started brushing her hair. I remembered the day she got it, her sixteenth birthday. Remember, she isn’t much of a girly-girl, brushing her hair is a luxury to her sometimes. Maybe that’s how all writers are—their characters are dressed up and perfect and they just go about necessary hygienic procedures.
Besides watching her brush her hair, I couldn’t help but notice she was tense. Shoulders hunched up, fingers fidgeting. I knew her very well.
“Are you okay?” I asked her.
“Hmm? No, I’m fine.”
She glanced at me in the mirror. I didn’t really believe her.
“If it’s about me asking about the pills, I’m sorry for overstepping.”
“What?” She laughed once, “you didn’t. I’m fine, honest.” She waved me off and kept doing her hair.
It didn’t change much. She pinned one side of it back, the side where her neck showed. I still felt like I pushed one of her few buttons I didn’t know about. It never came up, but I knew it was something that…bothered her somehow. More than once I’ve comforted her when she gets upset, thinking she isn’t good enough—pretty enough to get a guy interested. I promised her that wasn’t it, any way I could without completely revealing how I felt about her. Every time it happened I hope what I said worked.
It doesn’t stop her from getting upset over it. Her dating history is…without just saying I hate every guy who was in her life, less than good. Guys pretty much notice she’s hot and go for the kill, except Lori isn’t easy so they pretend to be interested.
Then they get bored, ask for the sex they stuck around for, but she doesn’t give it, and so they leave her heartbroken. She says she is waiting for love, but she is just waiting for someone…more worth it. Lori is all about emotions, she literally crafts them every day, and reads about them when she isn’t. She doesn’t just want a one-night thing, or some fling. And I respect that.
I wish I was like that. But I opened the floodgates and got addicted too long ago. Don’t even think about it, I’m not a sex addict.
“You ready?” She stood up, spritzed on some perfume and grabbed her coat.
“Pft, I’ve been waiting on you.” I teased her.
She ignored me and kept going. See? Bothered.
“You still drive this thing?” I opened her door for her even though she was driving. This old Civic had been in their family for years. Their dad passed it on to Carrie, and then Lori got it. It’s old.
“You gonna buy me a new car?” She pursed her lips.
“Sure.” She scowled and shook her head. She hates when I buy her stuff. I mean, absolutely hates it.
Forget about me being filthy rich and buying a new car wouldn’t put a dent in any of my checking accounts—she doesn’t like it. Feels like she’s using me. I don’t see it that way and she doesn’t fish, but it is just the way she is. She grew up way different from me, a lot humbler. So, I understand her not being used to the finer things. I vacationed in Maui, they took the family van out camping. She loved it—I would have preferred it.
When the car warmed up she set off for the mall.
“Any reason why we’re going to the mall?” She asked. I fiddled with the radio.
“I need clothes.”
She shot me a funny look before turning back to the road.
“Dillon, you should go home. See your dad maybe.”
I shrugged. She had hope that things would get better. But my father doesn’t budge at all.
“He doesn’t want to see me and I would rather avoid them.”
She sighed in frustration.
“You know; I get that things are tough with your dad. But you can’t just…” she nearly ran a red light. The car jerked to a stop. I turned to look at her, her otherwise soft features were scrunched up in frustration.
“I wonder, every day when my dad walks out the door if I’m going to see him again. If some fire is going to swallow him up. Family isn’t something you can take for granted.”
Awkward silence…I felt like shit, of course. I could be real selfish sometimes, I’ll admit it.
I didn’t even think past my own feelings.
“I’m sorry, I had no idea I was…”
“Being an idgit? Yeah, I know.”
It was best not to say anything else. She needed to stew. She never spoke out much, so if she did she must have been really hurt and upset. Then she would just retract, hold everything in until I forced it out of her. But she was driving and already almost ran a red light.
We were inside the mall before she said anything to me.
“Sorry.”
I stopped next to a clothing rack. I rested my elbow on it and smiled down at her.
“S’okay. I’m not mad. I’m sorry too.” She smiled a bit, her lips pursed up and moved to the side. She averted my gaze for a second. I leaned down, close to her face and she finally looked up at me.
“You gonna help me shop now?” I smiled wryly.
I nudged her shoulder with my hand, the bare shoulder.
“Yeah, come on.” She walked off and my eyes went right to her ass, fighting those jeggings. I adjusted my pants.
My wardrobe didn’t vary much so I knew exactly what I wanted. I grabbed three pairs of jeans, a few t-shirts and more sweaters. It was fucking cold.
“That’s it?” Lori followed behind me as I went to check out.
“Yeah. I think?” I looked over my shoulder at her.
“I only washed like three pairs of boxers, don’t you need more?” She gestured to the underwear section right ahead of us.
“Nah, I can just go commando.” I winked over my shoulder. She shook her head at me with a sigh. I laughed on my way to get some boxers.
Once Lori was satisfied with my selection, I checked out. On the way out, I noticed her eyes lingering over in the ladies’ section, on a particular dress. She stopped for a second, feeling the hem of the dress, thinking I didn’t see her.
“You should get it.” Her shoulders tensed at my voice. “It’s nice.” She smiled at me shyly and shook her head.
“I don’t think so.” She held up the price tag. A whopping two hundred dollars.
My instincts made me shrug in response but I immediately regretted it. I pretended to be rolling out a kink in my neck so she wouldn’t notice.
“Pansy designers. Let’s go, I’m buying dinner.”
I hugged her with one arm around her shoulder. She wrapped her hand around my waist. It was nice, having her that close to me. The warmth of her body heated mine in the cold, even if only for a few seconds. She pulled away and I almost pulled her back to me, but the bit of rationality I had left told me to just let her go.
I tossed the bags in the trunk.
“I’m feeling wings, is that okay?” I asked before we got in the car.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
I hooked my phone up to her AUX, the latest piece of technology her car had, and played Imagine Dragons. Lori and I always had the same taste in music, whenever I discover a new song or something I share it with her—we have the same Spotify account that we share.
“Hopefully we don’t see anyone we know.” We got to the Buffalo Wild Wings, where literally everyone goes that we’ve ever known, especially around school holidays.
“It’s Florence, of course we’ll see someone.” She laughed.
And we did. Our server was the salutatorian of our class and I saw a few other guys from the football team back in high school. Tommy, the outside linebacker, went to play for UT Austin and is going into the draft.
“I always thought you’d go pro.” He leaned next to Lori. I noticed him looking at her exposed skin, my fists clenched under the table but I kept my cool.
“I get that a lot, but no.” I laughed uneasily. He had gotten bigger, probably had to beef up for the combine.
“What’s next then?” He leaned closer to Lori. Was he trying to get her attention? I had to laugh a little, she was staring at her phone, probably using her e-reader.
“Uh, medical school.” His brows raised, showing off his reddening eyes. He was obviously drinking. Everyone made that same surprised look when I said I was going to medical school, I got used to it.
“Oh, that’s awesome man.” I nodded and went back to chewing celery, only to keep myself from telling him off when he started talking to Lori.
“Oh, hey Lori. I almost didn’t recognize you.” Liar.
She blinked rapidly as she looked up at him and smiled shyly.
“Hey Tommy.” She spoke quietly.
Lori doesn’t really get nervous around people or anything. She just doesn’t really speak for herself much and when she does…yeah, she doesn’t.
“Um…so I heard you graduated. Congratulations.” He was really trying.
“Thanks.” She nodded. She glanced at me quickly, but the good part of me, the part that’s her best friend and not in love with her, urged her to continue the conversation. Stupid.
“I’m having a party tomorrow night, you should come.” She stared at him as if she were side swiped. I just sat back and cleared my throat. Expecting her to reject him.
“Yeah, sure.”
He smiled, showing off his perfect teeth that he probably paid for. He makes me sick.
“Cool, see you then.” He bent over and hugged her with one arm, we were high up on the bar tops but he was still taller. My hand clenched around my celery when his hand lingered on the bare skin of her shoulder. He walked off with a new pep in his step.
“Guess I’m not invited.” I muttered.
Her eyes flickered to me quickly before going back to her screen. I noticed then that her cheeks were flushed. He made her blush? Seriously?
“Guess not.” She sighed. She sipped her water—more like gulped it until it was empty.
“Lori, do you like that guy?” I finally asked her. She looked up at me and blushed even further. Her fingers twitched around her phone as she shifted in her seat.
“You really don’t remember?” I pursed my lips in confusion and shook my head.
“I guess not…?”
She shook her head with a blissful sigh.
“I had the biggest crush on him in high school. I used to day dream about us getting married.”
I laughed and then immediately felt like an asshole because she huffed and went back to reading. I leaned closer and brushed my fingertips on her forearm.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I just…I thought you were joking. I guess not?” She chewed the inside of her cheek and finally looked back at me. I got lost in the glimmer of her blue eyes before I could speak again.
“I didn’t remember. So…you still like him?” I asked cautiously. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer.
Her shrug didn’t give me much hope. If that was her type—a beefy, blond cretin, I was out of luck.
“He’s still gorgeous, but I haven’t seen him in a while, so I don’t know.”
I didn’t respond until our food got there and I ate a few wings.
“What did you ever like about him?”
“What?” She cut into a wing with her fork, popped it in her mouth and gave me a puzzled look.
She always got boneless wings so she could eat them with a fork, says she doesn’t want her hands smelling like mango habanero.
“Tommy, what did you ever like about him?” Her shoulders slumped.
“I don’t know.” She muffled with a mouth full of food.
“Come on, you can tell me.” I buttered her up with a soft smile. Sometimes even I have to pull information out of her.
“Well, back in high school at least…” she started, I prompted her to continue by leaning closer, “he was the quarterback, you remember that I hope.” I nodded, unfortunately I did. He was—is a real asshole. In my opinion, of course.
“So, there was that. I mean, he’s really hot—the kind of hot I read about.”
“What kind of hot am I?” I piqued. She giggled and ignored me.
“I always thought he was kind of sweet too, sometimes. In his own way.” I never saw that. “But, he’s probably different.”
“I guess you’ll find out tomorrow, huh?”
She nodded and kept eating, thinking I didn’t see her smile down at her plate. Fuck.
Tommy ruined my appetite, of course. After that I didn’t eat much but ordered two beers. Lori accused me of pregaming so I went along. Really, I was just trying to drown my own cowardice. I kept thinking, just tell her, but every time I did I imagined her walking away from me. And that was no good. It would hurt too much.
I didn’t even feel like going to the bar after, but I promised her I would take her out to celebrate and I am sort of a man of my word. Sort of. Only when it comes to her.
“You should come with me tomorrow.” We were at the bar, squished up on the bar top. She surprised me by ordering a bourbon whiskey.
“I don’t know.” I sipped on my water. I already had two beers and I already knew I would have to drive us home—Lori is a light weight.
“Why?” She shot me a funny look, her eyes were already glassy.
“He invited you, Lori.” I answered curtly. Don’t even think it, Lori is a grown woman and can take care of herself, I would only be going to play the jealous best friend and probably ruin her good time.
“Yeah but…”
“I don’t have to do everything with you.” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. Jeez, I need to cool it.
“Oh. Right.” Her throat followed her swallow and she downed the rest of her drink. I sighed deeply and placed my hand lightly on her knee.
“Sorry. I just don’t like the guy.” I was apologizing a lot today, it seemed.
“I don’t have to go.” But she didn’t mean that, she really wanted to go.
See, in high school, it was the classic nerd and jock duo—the two of us. Lori isn’t even really a nerd; she just reads a lot. I was the star linebacker of the football team and she was the president of the English club, book club, and Writers of Tomorrow, Today. Long story short, she didn’t get invited to parties or kickbacks—but I always brought her and assured her she wasn’t tagging along at all. Really, if she didn’t come with me, I didn’t even care to go.
“But you want to. You’re going.”
She turned back to her phone and kept reading.
