Give It To Me: Taboo Romance

by Ami Snow

  “Sorry, Miss,” he apologized huskily, winking as he added, “You're right, that was my bad – you have my word. I'll be driving like a jackass no more.”

  “I, uh – you bet your ass I'm right,” I stammered, softening, fully expecting a heated argument, or at least a scornful retort of some kind.

  “Right, I'll see you around,” he replied, glancing up at the green light, beaming as he slipped his helmet back on, his voice muffled, “I promise I'll be keeping the streets safe for gorgeous girls like you. You have a good day now.”

  My cheeks tinged with pink as he bulleted forward, my heart falling as he veered a corner out of sight. My windows rolled back up as my car kicked into gear, my thoughts scrambling for coherence as I completed the remaining path to Rushmore High. I pulled up into my usual space at the far end of the parking lot and made my way towards the dreary stretch of the clustered, brown-bricked school buildings.

  I thanked a handful of shifty-looking students who opened the door for me, their clothes reeking of cigarette smoke laced with a little dank, awkwardly spreading out and leaning away from me as I strolled past them. As they vanished into the boys' bathroom, Coach Derrick of the basketball team, a burly-chested man notorious for his short fuse, stalked in after them from the corner of my eye. My shoulders hunched in anticipation, the coach's booming voice ricocheting down the hallway, followed by the boys scrambling out of the bathroom, the boy in the end hastily adjusting his sagging jeans as he staggered after his friends.

  My forehead crinkled as I noticed Freddy by his locker, his oblivious expression almost comically shifting to one of stunned fright on his hanging mirror as he caught sight of my face creeping into the reflection. He shook his head, slinging the strap of his backpack over his shoulder as he turned to face me, grinning. His smile faltered as I crossed my arms over my chest, peering into his locker at the sliver of the bright paperback, the words “MANGO STREET” visible, buried underneath a messy pile of crumpled schoolbook covers with the edges shredded off, amongst a bundle of worksheets, uncapped pens and sprinkled eraser shavings.

  Freddy tilted his head to the side, following my line of vision, the freckles on his cheeks disappearing in the flush as he grabbed hold of the book and shimmied it out of the mess. He buffed off the shavings with his fingers and shot me a sheepish smile, waving the book in the air dramatically.

  “Right, I'll be reading this in Algebra–”

  “No, you won't,” I interjected pointedly, pursing my lips in disapproval, “From what I recall, you're not doing too well in that department either. We'll go through it together after school –”

  “Ah, yeah, about that,” Freddy started, his voice trailing off as he detected my flared nostrils.

  “Come on, Freddy,” I intoned sternly, “Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait.”

  “Fine, fine, Clarissa finally said she'd go out with me but I guess we can reschedule,” he relented, visibly resisting the urge to roll his eyes, “You sound just like my brother.”

  “Maybe I should meet him then, sounds like a very reasonable man,” I replied coolly, “Clarissa's a nice girl. You can take her out this weekend – you know – after your big test this Friday.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  I frowned, “You and I both know you need you're gonna be needing that scholarship in two years – you better smarten up. Time's a-tickin'.”

  Freddy nodded silently, a thoughtful expression spread out across his face as he bolted his locker shut. He flashed me a smile before hurrying off to class.

  “Thanks, Ms. Woodley. I'll see you later.”

  Chapter Three –

  “Kat? Kat!”

  I glanced up from my laptop, turning down the volume of my mixed adventure film soundtracks – the poignant instrumentals, bizarrely, aided in smoothing my work flow. My fingers loosened around the pen as I set it across the table, my closed door bursting open and slamming against the wall. Jeanie, the second-born of us tres marias, stumbled into the room, her petite frame impressively heightened by her seven-inch, crystal-studded stilettos. She clapped her hand across her mouth, giggling daintily.

  “Sorry – your door was stuck,” Jeanie drawled in her trademark nasaly tone.

  “Don't worry about it,” I shrugged, looking her up and down, “Well, don't you look snazzy. Where are you and Andrea heading off to tonight?”

  Jeanie tottered forward, her heels clumping my carpet, leaving a brief, indented trail of her footfall. She walked into my closet, pouting her lips as she emerged with a brand-new, scarlet, tea-length dress with sheer, lace sleeves, still in its clear bag.

  “Actually, we,” Jeanie declared, flourishing her pointed, gold-coated nails at me, “are all going to Plaza X tonight. It's their opening night and of course Andrea and I managed to score a couple of VIP tickets...It's gonna be crazy, Kat! Come on, go-go dancers – oh! And they've got this crazy tube that goes up to the ceiling filled with piranhas –”

  I raised my eyebrows in mock alarm, laughing as I attempted to decline her invitation in the gentlest way possible, “Piranhas and a mob of crazy drunk folks? Nah, I think I'm good for the night. 'Sides, as you can see –” I waved my arm across the stack of notes and my open copy of The House on Mango Street, plastered with a rainbow of multicolored highlighted passages and post-its, “I've got my hands full at the moment.”

  Jeanie's mouth fell open in protest, jabbing her finger towards the dress on my bed, “But we got you a dress and everything – do you know how hard it is to find a nice dress for a size 14 – but that's not the point. Come on, Katrina, it's so unhealthy to stay cooped up in the house all the time –”

  I reclined into my armchair, cracking a smile in amusement, “That's a beautiful dress, Jeanie – more like size 16, but it's sweet. I've got that kid Freddy I told you about that I'm tutoring after school, his reading's got so much better since we started. Anyway, might I remind you that I'm up at seven in the morning everyday for work while you and Andrea sleep in till Mom has to get Marietta to drag you guys out for dinner?”

  Refusing to acknowledge my very accurate comebacks, Jeanie forced a smile on her face as she crossed over to me, peeking at my scribbled notes. Her nose wrinkled as she commented, “Whatever you say, Kat. I never understood why you insisted on getting a job – Andrea and I both thought you'd go for something a little more glamorous like – I don't know – a party planner or a decorator –”

  “Event planners and interior decorators are actually very tough professions and not as easy as you might think –”

  Jeanie flicked me on the forehead, scowling, “Whatever, you know what I mean – definitely not public school. But you do look happier than I've ever seen you before so you must be doing something right,” she finished, smiling.

  “Thanks, Jeanie,” I wrapped my right arm around her and gave her a quick side-hug, “You and Andrea have fun tonight at Plan X.”

  “Plaza X,” sneered Jeanie, winking as she shuffled towards the door, “Don't overwork yourself, Kat. Have a good night.”

  “Stay safe,” I waved as the door swung to a close.

  As the sound of Jeanie's footsteps faded, I gathered the strewn out sheets of notes and slipped them into a clear folder. I shut down my laptop and stowed my things out of sight. Truth was, I'd just finished up for the night and had planned on taking Maddox, our gorgeous golden retriever, for a walk. I crept towards the window at the gravelly sound of rolling tires, our driver, Cameron's gloved hand protruding out the window of the family Bentley, signaling towards the housekeeper, who was pulling open the wrought-iron front gates.

  After filling my fanny pack with essentials and clasping the buckle on the side of my waist, I pulled a light cardigan over my black tank top and grabbed Maddox's leash, dangling from the coat rack next to my door. The second I stepped foot into the hallway, the sound of Maddox's scampering paws and gleeful panting filled my ears, inducing an instant smile on my face. I crouched down on the floor and scratched the back of hi
s furry, little head as I fastened the hook of the leash onto his collar. Sensing an adventure about to begin, Maddox pounced forward, yanking me forward as we rapidly descended the winding flight of marble steps.

  The breezy, late-October night air kissed my pinking skin as Maddox led me down the stony path, wagging his tongue at me expectantly as I pulled open the front gate and slipped through the open crack, guiding him through. I removed my earphones and phone from my fanny pack and shoved the soft buds into my ears, turning up the music as we wandered down the path. As an indie singer's lifeless voice droned in my ear, I decided to turn down the corner towards the closest bakery. I could probably make it before Oliver's Baked Treats shut down for the night. Freddy did a pretty good job today and seemed more focused as usual, after I'd been extra hard on him, which probably warranted one of those double-glazed cinnamon rolls he loved so much, and who was I kidding – I could use a couple of those bad boys myself.

  My forehead creased as we continued down the path, Maddox struggling in his leash. I wonder what had him so antsy. I paused, clicking my tongue as I glanced down on the pale glow of my phone screen, aiming to change the tune. I wasn't in a very early 2000's-Christina mood right now. Maddox growled, his frantic whimpering drifting into my ears from the brief silence upon changing the track on my playlist, followed by the horrifying screeches of violently swerving tires.

  The color drained from my cheeks, my feet seemingly rooted to the ground as a beige sedan zigzagged down the the road, its screaming tires disrupting the otherwise tranquil emptiness, plowing straight towards me. Maddox lunged forwards, the soles of my sneakers crushing against the asphalt as they dragged forward, the hood of the car clipping me and knocking me onto to the ground. My body rigid with shock, my eyes snapped open as the car halted to a brief stop before lurching on forwards. I blinked, the strangely familiar sound of a roaring engine filling my ears.

  My mouth fell open at the Ducati parked next to me. I couldn't believe it – it was the sexy motorist from the highway.

  “Miss, are you okay?”

  “I – I think so,” I stuttered, my chest heaving, “I don't think he got me too bad –”

  “Wait here,” he demanded gruffly, “Hold on, Miss. I'll be right back.”

  Before I could utter another word, he sped off after the sedan. I petted Maddox's head affectionately, soothing him as he whimpered worriedly next to me.

  “Don't worry, little guy, I'll be fine, just as long as there's no blo...”

  My voice trailed off as I spotted the patch of my jeans missing from my knees, crimson gushing from the open scrape. The world hazed around me, my world fading to black.

  Chapter Four –

  My eyes fluttered open as my fingers clawed against the starchy, cheap sheets under me. Weird – these don't feel like my silk sheets at all. Wait, where the hell was I? My back jolted from the lumpy pillow under me, blinking myself awake as my head throbbed violently, scanning my surroundings. My right leg was elevated, my ankle wrapped in bandages but not casted. It was a spacious, brightly illuminated private hospital room, its spotless accommodations furnished with a long, bright red couch; a modish, glass coffee table; and a needlessly excessive fifty-two-inch screen. I sighed, physically cringing at the abrupt replays of last night's horrifying events milling across my mind. I looked down at the bandages on my wrist and hesitantly lifted up the hem of my oversized, floral-printed hospital gown, squinching my eyes towards the scrape of my left leg. My expression softened, nodding to myself as I studied the exquisite stitch work of the unnamed doctor, the scrape survived by a thin, neatly sealed line.

  I sighed, my eyes brightening as I looked to my right at the huge bouquet of sunflowers and lilies, garnished by beautiful baby breaths, wrapped in shiny, rainbow tinfoil. It was Will's go-to assemblage, and what had started out as a sweet gesture quickly became an irritating, half-assed explanation of his absences. Snatching the folded card clipped to the foil of the bouquet, I shook my head, exhaling in brewing contempt as I skimmed through Will's message, which was almost certainly dictated to someone over the phone.

  “Katrina, babe – Sorry to hear about your little accident. You have to learn how to be more careful. I'm sorry I couldn't stop by to see you. Ronnie's back in town and we're celebrating the team's win. He says hi. Love, Will.”

  I rolled my eyes and chucked the card to the side, straining my body at an awkward angle as I reached for the basket of mini-muffins and cupcakes next to the bouquet. My tummy rumbled in agreement as I disregarded the floral arrangement, opting instead to rip off the plastic from the basket of sweet treats. I popped a chocolate chip muffin into my mouth, groaning contentedly as the sweet pastry crumbled beneath my lips. I undressed another muffin with walnuts and stuffed it into my mouth, savoring the sweet medley of flavors.

  The door swung open, my eyes rounding in surprise as Freddy stepped through the door, sporting his basketball jersey and baggy jeans, his face dark with genuine concern. I chewed hastily and swallowed, dabbing at my lips as I sat up on my pillow, my eyes widening as the mysterious motorist trailed in after him, his helmet in his hands.

  “Freddy, what're you doing here?” I smiled, turning towards the man next to him, “Sorry, I don't even know your name –”

  “Ms. Woodley, this is my brother, Trey,” Freddy announced, the corners of his lips twitching mischievously, “You doing alright?”

  “Brother?” I repeated, my eyes bulging in disbelief, their eerily-similar blue eyes blinking back at me.

  “So you're the Ms. Woodley I've been hearing so much about,” said Trey, his husky voice sending a chill down my spine, a knowing smile playing on his lips, “This town's smaller than I thought.”

  “Trey,” I said carefully, swallowing, “Oh my god, I don't even know how to thank you – wait, where's Maddox – what happened?”

  “Trey caught up with the asshole,” explained Freddy proudly, “Some drunk, old prick named Marvin Scott – but he took care of that, too. He'll be in contact with you shortly. Anyway, Trey called me up when he got back to you and you were out cold. Your dog's a sweetheart – don't worry, he's fine. We went through your phone and called your sisters. They stopped by a few hours ago to check in on you, but you were knocked out, so they took him home.”

  “I can't even begin to thank you guys,” I projected my overwhelming gratitude once more, shaking my head, my chest swelling.

  “Don't sweat it, Ms. W,” Freddy beamed, turning towards the door, “Anyway, I've gotta run, I got one chapter left on that mango book you keep busting my nuts about.” He glimpsed at my muffin basket, hinting.

  “Go ahead, Freddy,” I grinned, tossing him two muffins from the basket, “Thanks again.”

  I cleared my throat, once again feeling pink flourishing in my cheeks as Freddy left the room, leaving me with his unfairly attractive brother. Trey stroked his stubble as he paced forward wordlessly. My heart skipped in my chest as he lifted my arm, inspecting the rough scrapes specked across my flesh, my chest fluttering as his fingertips traced against my skin.

  “Doesn't look too bad,” he noted, smiling, “I'm glad you're all patched up. Can't stand the assholes that hit-and-run, much less shitfaced assholes behind the wheel.”

  “I'm just a little sore,” I answered, my voice cracking, “But I'll be alright. I'm a trooper.”

  “I bet you are,” Trey grinned, letting go off my arm as he turned towards the door, his brows raising as he spotted the flowers on my table.

  “Don't mind those, it's from my boyfriend,” I blurted, biting down on my lip in aggravation as his face fell slightly.

  “Ah, okay,” he nodded meaningfully, winking, “Well, alright. I gotta run, Miss. I'm glad you're okay.”

  I gulped as he reached for the doorknob, my heart ringing in my ears as I called out after him.

  “Katrina! Call me Katrina.”

  “I'll see you, Katrina,” said Trey, glancing back at me from behind his shoulder.

  “Y
ou'll come see me again tomorrow, won't you?”

  Trey paused, a slow smile unfolding on his lips, his eyes twinkling.

  “Definitely.”

  Chapter Five –

  I yawned, flipping through my channels as I basked in the insufferable, tediously boring daze I'd been sitting through all day. I squinted my eyes towards the clock on the wall, the small hand clicking past eleven. Okay, so I was exaggerating, it's just a little before noon, and somehow that made it worse. I grunted in exasperation, sinking into my pillow as I settled on a Jerry Springer repeat, switching up the volume on the screen, allowing the roar of the audience's jeers at the bumbling, quarreling audience members to fill my lonely custody. Andrea sent me a text message at five this morning saying that they'd be popping in for another visit after their detrimental bedtime, probably failing to meet the mandatory visiting hours like they'd done yesterday. As for Will, I rightfully had no hopes of his arrival, still entangled in his suspiciously lengthy celebration with whoever the hell Ronnie was, and therefore, not much disappointment ensued. In hindsight, it really wasn't so bad – just another day till I'd be free to go, but I honestly hated being unproductive.

  I barely stirred as the door creaked open, sighing as I intoned mechanically, “Is it lunchtime already? Thanks, Nurse Margot –” I sat up against my pillow, my eyes bulging as Trey strolled into the room, the heels of his sneakers scuffing against the squeaky tiles.

  “Hey, stranger,” Trey grinned, raising his brows in amusement as he glimpsed up at my screen, “Never would'a pegged you for a Jerry Springer fan, but hey. Whatever keeps your boat floating, I guess.”

  I snorted, turning off the television as I quipped defensively, “I enjoy Mr. Springer's colorful guests – they've got some entertainingly ignorant mindsets – not that any of it's real – at least, I hope not.”