“I remember him from a few years back. Young punk.”
“Young punk? Be careful, you’ve been called the same thing. That’s about all I know, but hearing she’s turning up after disappearing for four years, is odd. She called you?” he asks, cocking his head to the side. Everything in me wants to lie, to sweep her away and we both disappear forever.
“No, Hank did. She was down at Weddle’s,” I inform him, remembering my dad is a trusted man, and he breathes a long deep breath.
“That’s not like her,” he comments.
“I know. The fact she’s trying to get money by gambling tells me something is majorly wrong. Can you find out?”
“I’ll try. Let me make some phone calls.” He stands up and makes his way toward the door. “Just relax, Edge.” He places his hand on my shoulder.
“What’s that look for?” I scrunch my eyebrows, curious to his instant easiness.
“You and Chrissy, you guys have always—”
“What?” I ask.
“I don’t know, maybe there are feelings there.” He shrugs his shoulders and opens the door from his office. I wonder if I’m being that obvious that my dad can peek into my heart and see that soft spot for Chrissy.
“Yeah, she’s like my sister or best friend,” I lie. “Not to mention, you kind of soured me from love.” I smirk back, and he pushes me forward a little bit.
“Just because marriage isn’t for me, doesn’t mean it’s not for a lot of people.” Then he leans in to me. “And a lot of people marry their best friends,” he whispers.
I mimic his motions by leaning in. “And a lot of people divorce their best friends,” I whisper back, and he laughs knowing I won that round. He and my mom were best friends, who married and then divorced. The last thing I can handle is losing Chrissy all together from my life. Now that she’s come back, I won’t risk it with some damn relationship that would never last.
“I’ll give you that one,” he tells me, and then focuses out to the floor. “So, boys, how is business tonight?” he asks all the younger guys with charts in front of them and cups of energy drinks in their hands. All of the young and impressionable eyes look up to my dad as some sort of fucked up mentor. “Thanks for taking over tonight,” he comments.
“You’re welcome.” I sit down in the recliner, and some new kid I don’t even know hands me the tablet with the spreads on it.
“Here you go, Edge,” he says, and I narrow my eyes.
“Call me, Dex,” I correct him, and he nods before going back to his spot in front of television number two.
BY THE TIME my dad returns to Ridgewood, my mind is already half out the door. I hate to admit it, but I probably made him no money tonight. Chrissy’s situation with her dad invaded through my thoughts. Trying to dissect how to alleviate the problem for her. The desperate demand on myself to guarantee she lives a happy life with someone who really loves her. Since I can’t give her what she deserves, I attempt to make it come true for her.
When I return home and stroll through the kitchen, the glow of the television is the first thing I notice. Figuring Sadie and Brady are in there watching a movie, I creep quietly down the hall, hoping they don’t stop me.
“Dex,” Chrissy calls out and, as much I hate to admit it, a small smile forms on my lips because she’s up. When I pass the archway, Chrissy is beginning to sit up on the couch. She’s still dressed in her skirt and shirt from earlier, and I overhear Andy Cohen from Bravo on the television along with a few women screaming. Living with Sadie and Jessa allowed me to have the useless knowledge of the Bravo network.
“Hey,” I say, taking the seat next to her. Somehow thinking she’ll smell the guilt off of me, I stay as far down on the couch as possible.
“Hi.” Her soft voice awakens my body like it did when I was fourteen. Her shyness is something that’s consistently turned me on.
“How was tonight?” I ask, upset that I had to leave her somewhere where she knows no one.
“It was good. Sadie and I went over to Jessa’s and helped her wash and fold some of the baby clothes. We came back here, but I just can’t sleep.” She shrugs her shoulders and I’m happy Sadie is being so nice. If Chrissy needs anything, it’s friends.
“Jessa whining?” I ask, raising my eyebrow in question.
“She’s eight and a half months pregnant, she deserves to be able to, but she didn’t at all. They’re a really happy couple.” She smiles, but it lacks something. Maybe there’s a twinge of envy in them.
“Poor Grant,” I comment, and she tosses a pillow at me.
“I hope when your wife is pregnant, you’re a lot nicer and accommodating.” She shakes her head back and forth in disgust.
“No wife and definitely no kid,” I say, and her lips turn to a frown.
“That’s upsetting, Dex, you should want to share your life with someone.” She scoots closer, and my eyes veer to her thighs like they did outside earlier. The thought of pushing them apart and wrapping them around me comes to mind.
“Love is an unreal emotion. Not to mention, it’s impossible for someone to stay faithful to one person,” I continue, my thoughts of love warped. I know they suck and are more or less excuses. My friends are examples of love that can conquer, don’t get me wrong, but for me, it’s just not an option. I like my life, and I’m not ready to give it up.
“Oh, Dex. Who hurt you so bad?” she asks and then turns around to face forward.
I don’t answer, and she doesn’t delve into my psyche further. We watch television and, at points, I think I should get up and leave. But then her head starts to bob and eventually it lands on my shoulder. Positioning her under my arm, I smell the scent of my shampoo on her golden-blonde hair and, for the first time, an image of her always next to me warms me a little too much.
FOOTSTEPS POUNDING DOWN the stairs wake me up, and I feel the weight of a heavy arm laying on my shoulders. Squinting up, I discover my body is curled up into Dex’s. My legs scrunched up into his side with both his arms encasing me in his own. With the safest feeling I’ve ever come close to, I’m reluctant to leave the nest of Dex. That is until a shadow appears in the doorway.
My eyes veer toward it, and those blue-glass eyes lock on mine. “Hi,” he says. “Friends, huh?” He cockily quirks his eyebrows at me before walking down the hall.
Slowly and quietly, I inch away from Dex’s strong body. Placing his arm back down so it rests on his leg. I tiptoe out of the room, resembling the pink panther as I walk up the stairs, stopping at every creak, hoping it doesn’t wake him.
“Hi, Chrissy.” Brady’s loud voice startles at the top of the stairs, and I almost lose my footing as my hand covers my heart.
“Hi, Brady,” I whisper. “Dex is asleep on the couch,” I inform him with the hopes he’ll lower his voice.
“Well, I guess he’ll be waking up.” He doesn’t change the tone of his voice. “What are you up to today?” he asks, and I’m a little uncomfortable making chitchat in my clothes from yesterday, with breath from hell, and the perception that maybe something happened with Dex and myself.
“I’m going to try to find a job,” I admit, embarrassed in this crowd, since none of them seem to be hurting for money.
“Good luck. Do you want a ride?”
“No, I’ll walk. I know we aren’t far from Main Street.” I graciously decline.
“Okay, well, I have to head to work. Try The Loft or maybe an office on campus. Not sure exactly what you’re looking for.” He smiles and then descends the stairs. When I don’t hear him wake Dex, I’m grateful. My only goal is to escape this house and find a job, so I can stand on my own again.
I take a shower, dress in my sophisticated outfit—a pair of black slacks and a pink blouse with my black heels. My funeral, wedding, and now job search attire. By the time I get downstairs, I find an empty couch, and I realize Dex must have woken up at some point. Meaning that he’s either in his room or he’s left the house.
Departing the b
ack door, I lock the bottom lock on the door with the key Sadie gave me and pivot around toward the front of the house. There are a few girls outside the house next door, smoking. None of them wave, but inspect me through the corner of their eyes. The disapproving judgment can be felt from across their weed-infested lawn.
My heels click on the sidewalk, and the downtown area of Western comes into view. Marching up to a bar and grill first, I figure my best shot at getting fast money is waitressing. Although, I’m a little worried how much college kids tip.
Bustling all the courage I can muster, I open the doors to a dark and dingy rundown bar. The linoleum floors, fake wooden tables with napkins stuffed under a leg of each one with mismatched chairs tucked alongside them inhabit the center of the room. Booths line the wall, covered in black vinyl with rips and tears. “Welcome to Aces.” An older man with a grey beard and matching head of hair greets me from behind the bar.
“Hi, I was wondering if you were looking for help,” I say, my timid voice trembling a little.
“Sorry, darling, we aren’t.” He circles around and continues to fix a drink for someone, whom I assume is a regular, since the man actually never spoke to order one.
“Okay, thank you anyway,” I say and walk out of the bar, feeling a tad dirtier from when I went in.
Two more places, including a more uppity establishment, all with shakes of their heads before I can even get the words out if they’re hiring. Exhausted, I drop onto a park bench, feelings of being unwanted rise to the surface. Will my life ever turn around? Am I destined to a life of shittiness?
Why am I here in Western? What am I here to accomplish? Why did I ever go back to that crappy town anyway? All my prospects of ever getting out drying up before my eyes. But then all I did was run to someone else to fix my problems. Dex. He can’t save me from my life or make it better somehow. From our conversation last night, he sure as hell isn’t looking for love. Not that I ever thought I was the one to give it to him.
“You’d think you were trying to figure out world peace with the concentrated expression on your face,” a deep voice intones, its owner sitting next to me.
When I look around, dark spiky hair and blue eyes shine at me. “Hi, Rob.”
“Hey,” he answers and then crumbles up a receipt and tosses it into the trashcan next to him. “Have you eaten?” he asks me, standing up before I even answer.
“No, but I’m good.” My low supply of money does not allow me to eat out.
“My treat, come on.” His head jerks to the side in a let’s go motion.
“Thank you, Rob, but I can’t let you do that.” I remain in my seat and cross my legs.
“Don’t act like some independent girl. I’m buying you lunch, not a damn car.” He grabs my hand and yanks me forward. “And I’ll be ordering for you, so you can’t try any of that salad or bread shit,” he continues, dragging me forward.
We enter a small café on the corner right across from the campus, called Lit’s. We’re seated outside at a table for two and a nice view of students coming and going off campus with their bags around their shoulders, conversing with others. I imagine intelligent conversations from lectures their professors embarked on.
“Look at those people wasting their time and money,” Rob remarks, staring out into a lawn filled with college kids that I yearn to be.
“Why do you say that?” I turn my attention to him, wanting to hear his perspective.
“I was one of them for years. I didn’t learn anything except how to chug a beer, smoke pot and get laid.” His face bears no expression, and then he picks up the menu.
“Did you already graduate?” I ask a more personal question, figuring he opened the conversation.
“No. I’m a dropout. I’m just saying, your eyes were all lit up when you looked over there, and I’m here to tell you it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” The menu rests in front of his face, so I can’t see his expression, but his tone is sourer than someone who truly believes that.
“I’m a never been,” I add, and he drops the menu slightly, his lips turned up.
“So, I actually have a leg up on you,” he jokes, and I kick him under the table. He feigns injured and chuckles, lightening up our lunch conversation.
“What’s your story then?” I ask, and his eyes dart to the street and then down to the menu.
“Not much. Guitarist, dropout. Went on tour with the Beatskulls and Krypto last year, but it was a fucking disaster.”
“Why?” I ask, and then a little brunette bounces over and places two waters on our table.
“Good afternoon. I’m Gretchen, and I’ll be your server.” She says her spiel, and then eyes Rob before throwing me a half-hearted glance.
“Hi, Gretchen. We’ll each have your chicken sandwich with fries and coleslaw.” Rob hands her the menus, and her eyes dart to mine.
“Oh and can I have a Diet Coke?” I stop her right before she leaves.
“Yeah, sure. Would you like anything to drink?” she looks at Rob, and he just shakes his head. “Okay, great. I’ll be right back.” She bounces back through the doors.
“So what were we talking about?” I ask him, and he quickly perks up.
“You and Dex,” he says with a sly smile on his face.
“Um … I’m pretty sure we weren’t.” I relax in my seat.
“Seriously? Friends?” he asks me unbelievingly.
“Yes … friends,” I confirm. “I’ve known him since we were eight.”
“Huh? How come you’ve never been around before?” He maintains the questions.
“Why so worried about it?” My voice a tad more curt than I intended it to be.
“Just curious is all. He’s different when you’re around, so I’m just trying to figure it out,” he admits, and I’m not sure that’s a good or bad thing that Dex is different when I’m around.
“Maybe more like brother-sister then?” I counter, since regardless of anything I do know, there is a level of deep caring we have for one another. Maybe because we’ve known each other for so long, or maybe because he has some hero complex to always save me.
“That would be sick, because from the looks you two share it would be incestuous. Don’t get me wrong, I’m into kinky, but that’s a whole other dimension.” His eyes widen, and he adamantly shakes his head, as though trying to rid the thought.
I laugh, watching his reaction to his own insane thoughts. “What about you? Any girlfriend?” I change the subject because let’s face it, Dex and I can’t occupy too much time, since nothing did, is, or will be happening between us.
“Just the flavor of the night.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t even be like that. Believe me, they’re plenty satisfied in the morning.” He takes a sip out of his water.
“Oh, how nice, you let them spend the night,” I sarcastically say, and he chuckles lightly.
“What can I say, I’m a gentleman,” he jokes back, and I begin to giggle.
Our food arrives, and we eat. Thanking Rob when he pays for the bill, we exit through the side gate and begin to walk back to the house. I’m not sure what everyone hates about Rob. To me, he’s been nothing short of polite and nice. Right as we are about to walk up the driveway, I’m still laughing at some story Rob’s telling me, about when a girl wouldn’t leave his room and the antics he had to pull off, when Dex’s truck turns in, almost running Rob over. Dex climbs out of his truck and glares over at us before retreating up the back steps.
By the time we enter the kitchen, he’s nowhere to be found, and I’m confused why he wouldn’t just say hello.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say your brother might be a tad jealous,” Rob says, leaning in close to my ear. Then he heads down the hallway, laughing to himself.
When I reach the top of the stairs, I glance at Dex’s door and then my own. Debating what is appropriate to do in my head for a few seconds, I decide to reach the bottom of whatever is wrong with him. Meandering the few steps, I knock lightly, but he doesn�
��t say anything. Then I hear his voice leaving a message for someone.
“Hey, Sam. Give me a call.” His door opens right after and he looks at me. “What’s up?” His voice filled with chills.
“Nothing. What did you do today?” I ask, still in the hallway as he remains in the doorway.
“I went to the gym,” he answers, short and curt.
“Oh, that’s good. I tried to find a job, but no luck. Then I ran into Rob—” I ramble on about my day’s activities due to the sheer uncomfortable vibe he’s putting off.
“That’s nice. Well, not the whole not finding a job. I’ll look out for you, too,” he interrupts me.
“Thanks. I just really want to …” Then I peer down the hall and back to him. “Do you mind if I come in?” I signal with my hand into his room.
He steps out of the way, with a half-hearted invite. Once I intrude into his room, I sit on his unmade bed. “I don’t want to live off of Brady or you.”
“Chrissy, we’ve been over this. It’s fine.” His exasperated annoyance clear in his words and deep release of breath.
“I know that. It’s just I guess I’m trying to tell you why I woke up this morning and snuck off to find a job.” I’m not even sure why I think he cares that he woke up without me there.
“We fell asleep on the couch. It’s not like I fucked you and poured my heart out to you or something,” he says, wheeling around to his dresser.
“Yeah … well … um … I know. It’s just you looked upset when you came home.” I bite my lip, apprehensive to what’s wrong with him.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind, Chrissy. But it’s got nothing to do with waking up this morning to an empty couch.” Dex kicks off his shoes and shrugs off his socks. His frigid tone and uncaring demeanor has me standing up, ready to flee the room.
“Okay, well, I’ll leave you be then.” I begin to depart the room.
“Wait,” Dex instructs, but before I give him my attention, Sadie’s in the doorway.
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