Finding Us

by S. K. Hartley

Neva: Yes!! Logan is driving me crazy.

  Me: Uh oh, what’s he doing now?

  Neva: Breathing?

  Me: Ha! See you at Black Bean in an hour?

  Neva: Sure, if I don’t get arrested for murder beforehand.

  An hour later I was sitting at the table in the coffee shop, my amazing coffee that Jared had grumbled at making in my hands. I sat in the window, a first for me. I would usually pick the farthest, darkest corner, and I knew Neva would have something to say about it.

  “Mornin’, babe!”

  Speak of the devil.

  “I hate that you’re a morning person,” I grumbled as she took a seat beside me.

  “Who jumped up your ass this morning?” She smiled, signaling Jared for her coffee order.

  I almost spat my coffee all over my best friend’s face. Coughing, I tried to hide my sheer embarrassment beneath it.

  “Wrong hole.” I threw my face in my hands and groaned. “I walked right into that one.”

  “Yes. Yes, you did.” Neva laughed, smiling to Jared as he placed her coffee on the table.

  “Okay, enough about holes and asses. What’s going on with you and Logan?”

  “You mean why haven’t I punched you in the throat yet?” she quipped, raising her brow and staring at me pointedly.

  He’s finally told her. Thank Christ.

  “You know it wasn’t my place. Besides, it doesn’t look like you’ve committed murder so I’m presuming everything’s okay?”

  “He has a fat lip. I smacked him in his stupid mouth for being so damn careless.” She smiled.

  “That’s my girl.” I winked. “So, what do you want to do today? I’ve got class at four so we need to get our asses moving if we want to do anything.”

  “Shopping?”

  “You hate shopping,” I said, my brows pinching together.

  “Yeah but you don’t. You get new clothes all the time,” she fired back.

  “Yeah, it’s called the internet. I hate physically shopping, too many PMS-ing women around for my taste,” I lied.

  It wasn’t that I hated physically shopping for clothes, it was that it was risky. I couldn’t do risky.

  “We could grab a bite to eat at Bones? Dex and Trix will join us.” She smiled, taking a sip of her coffee.

  “Sure. I could murder a cheeseburger right now,” I said, rubbing my stomach.

  One thirty minute cab ride later, we were sitting at the bar. The place was empty, since it was a couple of hours before opening.

  “Get your damn grubby hands off my tits, Dex! Jesus!” Trix yelled, rolling her eyes as she swatted away Dex’s hand.

  I chuckled quietly to myself as I took a large bite of my burger. Yummy.

  “You had no complaints last night, hooker.” Tex winked, leaning his elbows against the bar, eyeing my fries.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I stated flatly. Damn idiot thought he could steal my fries.

  “Leave her alone, Dex. It’s too early to deal with your ass today,” Neva grumbled beside me.

  “Cowgirl, I’m hurt.” Dex smiled, covering his heart with his hands.

  “No, you’re not. You love the attention, now scoot. I need to go into the back room,” Trix said, holding an armful of small mixer bottles.

  “It going to cost you.” Dex smiled playfully.

  I rolled my eyes. Dex caught me.

  “For that,” He leaned in, “I’m stealing one of these.”

  My reflexes reacted before I could even blink, catching Dex’s hand mid-air, the offending fry falling from his fingers as he gazed at me in absolute shock.

  My mind suddenly filtered back to a time where having rapid reflexes was absolutely necessary. A time that made me breathless every damn time I thought about it. It was my past. I had become somewhat of an expert at lying, keeping things hidden, but lately, since that single text message, everything was falling through my fingertips.

  “Fuck me.” Dex gasped.

  His whispered gasp was enough for me to snap out of my thoughts. I instantly released his wrist as if it would burn my skin.

  “Girl must love her fries,” Trix said, shrugging, pushing past a still speechless Dex.

  Yeah, I loved my fries but my reflexes were notorious. Moral of the story? Touch my fries and I will break your damn hand.

  “Okkkkay. So, moving on,” Neva said with a nervous chuckle. “You guys going to make it to The Takedown? Ace is fighting Big Willy tonight.”

  “Did someone say big willy? Count me in!” Trix fist pumped as she walked back behind the bar.

  “What? You don’t get enough of mine?” Dex balked, the fry situation a passing thought.

  “Christ, when was the last time either of you got some? This sexual tension is making me nauseous,” I quipped, throwing another fry into my mouth. “Do you need us to leave? So you can, you know? Fuck.”

  I smiled sweetly at Dex. He responded with a wink while Trix gave Dex the evil eye. Uh oh, trouble in paradise? They both claimed to have the perfect relationship. They would hook up when they wanted some, then they would go their separate ways. Seems that was no longer the case.

  From what Neva told me, Trix had been crashing at Dex’s house. She had been kicked out of her family home, something about her father not approving of all the ink she adorned on her body. Her father would probably have a damn stroke if he saw her array of piercings.

  “Low, text me time. I’ll meet you over there. It’s my night off anyway.” She smiled, turning to Dex and scowling at him before heading into the back room again.

  “Jesus, Dex. What the hell have you done?” I asked, Neva and I exchanging glances before she nodded her head in agreement at Dex.

  He sighed hard, his usual cocky self completely disappearing.

  “I did what most men do when they come into contact with Trix.” He shrugged.

  “What’s that?” I asked, curious.

  “I fell in love with her.”

  “Jesus,” Neva and I said in unison. This was Dex and Trix, the couple that were completely wrong for each other but at the same time completely right. They were chalk and cheese, but peanut butter and jelly. Complete walking contradictions.

  “Have you told her?” Neva asked.

  “It may have slipped out,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “She’s fucking fragile. Handle with care should be tattooed on her damn body. She’s got a bad past. It wasn’t pretty; she came to the bar one night looking for a job and I instantly gave her one after having her make the most complicated cocktails known to man. One night we got trashed and fucked on this very bar.”

  I inwardly cringed, removing my hands from the bar.

  “Her name isn’t Trix, she gave herself that name because it suited her lifestyle at the time.” He winced as if realizing what he had just said. Pointing at us, he continued. “You know nothing about any of this. Okay?”

  Neva and I nodded.

  “She called herself Trixie, or Trix for short because at the time she was turning tricks. She was whoring herself out just to make enough money to leave her past behind. Her life had been shitty and the men… Jesus, the men she fucked would tell her they loved her and then drop her instantly. The minute I told her I loved her, while we were having sex, she fucking bolted.”

  Well, shit. I didn’t expect that with my midday cheeseburger.

  “I’m going to check on her,” Neva said, leaving her seat and wandering into the back.

  “What do I do, Low?” Dex asked, pain clearly evident in his eyes.

  I pondered on his question for a moment. “Time. You give her time.”

  I inwardly rolled my eyes at my own words. I was the worst person he could possibly ask for advice. Guilt gripped me as a slow, winding pain hit my chest. I rubbed at the valley between my breasts. That hurt. I needed some air.

  “Can you tell Neva I had to get to class?”

  I stood from my chair, nodding at Dex and leaving the bar. I opted to walk; walking seemed to help
me organize the mess within my own head. I just wished there was something to help me organize my damn past.

  The sun was still blazing as I made my way back to campus, thinking back on my own words as I did. You give her time. Time: it was something I didn’t have. My time was limited, I knew that, but then I wondered: if I had the time I so desperately craved, would I have opened up to Tate sooner? What if my past was erased? What if I knew nothing of the life I had lead, would I still be the same person dealing with the battle between choices and consequences? Because when you make a choice, you also choose to deal with the consequences, but was it better to cross the line and suffer those consequences than to just stare at it and wonder what if?

  There I go hoping again. Always hoping, never naïve.

  It took me only thirty minutes to get back to campus, just in time for my class with Dr. Voxen. I slowly made my way to class, my eyes downcast as I dodged on-coming students as they bustled through the corridor. I was on edge today, my nerves peaked and my senses completely aware of everyone and everything going on around me.

  I made it into class without a single eye gazing into mine; taking my seat, I waited as the room filled up with excited students, clearly eager to get this class over and done with so they could start the weekend. I took in my surroundings, noticing some familiar faces who are regulars at Bones or at Ace’s fights. My gaze flickered to the doorway, people were cheering. Speak of the devil.

  Ace sauntered into the room while girls hung on his every word and movement; it was like they were eyeing their prey, ready to pounce the minute he chose one of them to mate. Damn idiots.

  “Why the long face, beautiful?” he said, throwing himself down into the chair beside me after shrugging off the mauling women.

  “Are you trying to say I have a long face?” I countered, raising my brow.

  “Out of that sentence, the only thing you got was that? Did you miss the part where I was being unusually gentleman-like and called you beautiful?” He smirked.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “You’re in a chipper mood today. Who did you screw?”

  “Seriously, this chick had thighs that could crush concrete and—”

  “I really don’t want to know.” I cringed, cutting him off.

  “Who crawled up your butt? Or better yet, who hasn’t? Blow off some steam and get laid, Low. You sound like you could use a real hard—”

  “Okay, settle down!” Dr. Voxen bellowed, cutting Ace off just in time. “In today’s class we’re going to discuss the papers you handed in. Your arguments were good, although some were lacking in creativity. But there was one that stood out. Low Parker?”

  The pen I was holding dropped from my fingertips at the mention of my name, hitting my desk and rolling onto the floor in one fluid movement. Oh, shit. Remind me why the hell I picked this damn major?

  “Um.” I coughed, trying to conceal my utter horror. “Yes, sir?”

  “Your paper was outstanding. You had clear and precise reasoning and your research was well-documented. I’m going to use it for today’s discussion.”

  I gulped, nodding my head in a robotic fashion.

  “You okay there?” Ace whispered, his hand grasping at my thigh.

  I felt him squeeze. My eyes traced his long fingers that rested against my jeans before snapping to his face. He winced slightly, moving his hand away.

  “I’m fine.”

  I stayed silent for the rest of the class, my eyes downcast just like before, my head pounding with a sheer intensity I didn’t know existed. Dr. Voxen went from one paragraph to another, explaining why my findings on the mafia were very well-educated around rumors and guess work, not only from the international media but from the general public.

  The minute we were dismissed, I jumped from my seat, bumping into Ace as I all but ran from the class. What the hell was wrong with me today? It was if my body could sense something but my head was like a clueless sitting duck.

  Yeah.

  Quack.

  As I made it out of the classroom, I noticed the corridor was pretty much empty. Taking my chances I slipped into the empty classroom opposite and slammed the door shut behind me. My head flew into my hands as I slid my back against the door, dropping onto the floor.

  “Okay, er, body,” I said out loud to myself.

  Your body isn’t going to respond to you, you idiot! Still, I didn’t see why it would hurt.

  “What the hell is going on? What do you know that I don’t? You’re making my brain hurt.”

  No response. Huh.

  I was quickly pulled from my minor lapse in sanity the minute I heard banging against the door I was leaning on. Great. Five minutes. Would it hurt for five minutes to freaking think on my own?

  “Low, open this damn door. I know you’re in there. I can still smell your fucking perfume. It smells like unicorns and rainbows, by the way, what is it? Some kind of pre-teen shit. It stinks.” Ace laughed through the door.

  Har har. Everyone’s a fucking comedian these days.

  “Go away, Ace. I’m busy!” I shouted, my head still in my hands.

  “Fuck no. Open the damn door.” He grunted.

  “Ace, I’m serious, leave me alone!”

  “Dude, open the fucking door. Dr. Voxen is looking at me like I’m a nut job for talking to a fucking door. Open it now.”

  “No!” I shouted back.

  He growled something I couldn’t understand, and for a minute I was sure he said something along the lines of ‘Little Willow.’ Fuck. My body instantly froze. My blood boiled, seemingly melting away the frozen feeling I had and bringing me right back down to earth. Motherfucker.

  Jumping from the floor, I flung open the door and grabbed Ace by the shirt, pulling him inside the room. Slamming the door, I whipped my head around to his.

  “What did you just call me?” I growled, my eyes hard, my stance even harder.

  “Nothing.” He sighed. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just wanted some time to think, that’s all.” I smiled, slouching my shoulders. “Anyway, what time is the fight tonight? Trix is going to meet us there.”

  “Trix? Yum.” He smirked, winking at me like the cheeky fuck he was.

  “You know, you’re almost always surrounded by vagina, yet you’re the biggest one out of them all.”

  “Sweeeet!” He laughed, over-exaggerating as usual. “Fight’s at nine, doors close at eight. And please for the love of all things holy, do not bet on me again.”

  “How did you know I put a bet on you?”

  “Rodriguez.”

  Dammit.

  “He talks a little too much for my liking,” I grumbled.

  “I need to get over to the gym for a pre-workout. You good?” he asked, placing his hands on my shoulders. I nodded. “Good. And remember what I said: get laid. You’re like a cranky old woman, I’m sure Tate will be all too willing to clear the cobwebs, Old Mother Hubbard.”

  “Ace.” I grunted, shrugging his hands from my shoulders.

  “Uh huh. Got it, overstepped the mark. Laters!” He smiled, making a dash for the door.

  I sighed hard as I stared at the closed door; finally some quiet so I could think. Fear was keeping me on a tight leash, restricting me from dealing with the situation at hand. It did nothing but piss me off more. Swallowing down the large lump that had formed in my throat, I opened the door and walked out into the corridor, keeping my eyes downcast as I made my way discreetly out of the building.

  I made it to my dorm room without a problem, releasing a sigh of relief as I shut the door behind me. Pulling out my cell, I fired a text to Trix, telling her the time of Ace’s fight. Once I’d done that, I sent another to Tate.

  Me: Fight night? X

  He replied instantly.

  Tate: I’m thinking you, me, pizza and a movie? X

  Me: I’m thinking you’re a genius. I’ll let Neva and Trix know.

  Tate: …and hot, sexy, gorgeous. Don’t forget those.
/>   Me: How could I forget?

  Tate: Are you trying to tell me you have the hots for me? ;) Now that’s hot.

  Me: Do you need me to stroke your ego? Is that what this is?

  Tate: I can think of other things that need stroking.

  Me: I walked into that didn’t I?

  Tate: No idea what you’re talking about ;)

  I laughed at his cheeky mood. We texted for a good twenty minutes before I decided to jump into the shower. I needed to try and wash away today’s fear and guilt from my skin. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, stripping off my clothes I waited for the water to heat up as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Low Parker stared back at me: brilliant blonde hair, icy blue eyes, makeup that was made up to perfection. It was time to drown her, for now.

  Shaking my head, I walked into the shower, immediately stepping under the hot spray. Water cocooned me, wrapping me within its warmth as I washed my hair. The next step wasn’t as simple as the first. Now it was time to remove the mask. Tentatively, I reached for the wash cloth and started slowly washing away every layer I had built up on my skin to hide what was beneath. Someone I didn’t want to be.

  After peeling away most of my skin, I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my body, adding another to my hair in a twist. Out of instinct, I walked to the mirror once again, staring at the woman in the reflection. Mission accomplished: Low Parker had disappeared and in her place was Willow Knoxx. The scars that were recently revealed to Tate taunted me. Never have I been ashamed of my scars, but with Tate it made me want to bolt and hide.

  Those scars made me who I was, but more importantly, made me strive to be someone else. I wasn’t bound by my scars, I was bound by my past, which was much worse. My scars were a physical reminder of what I had faced, but my past filled the emotional hole in my heart. The child in me wanted love, the love of one man in particular but that thought was quickly pushed away.

  “Time to hide, Willow,” I said as I reached for my makeup bag.

  I was playing hide and seek with my own identity.