by Kimberly Fox
I see her moving her lips, counting down, three, two-
“Can I have everyone’s attention?” Stephanie asks into the mic as the music cuts, ruining our glorious little moment. This chick can’t go five minutes without anyone paying attention to her.
Megan’s shoulders drop as she turns to her fraud of a maid of honor. It’s probably better this way. Nobody wants to limp down the aisle in a cast.
“I have a little present for our bride,” she says. She whispers something to the DJ. He nods and turns to his laptop. “Remember this one Megan? Karaoke and cocktails. Always a dangerous combination.”
The cheesy music to The Wind Beneath My Wings starts to play over the speakers and Stephanie closes her eyes, swaying side to side in her black dress that’s way too tight and short for her slutty body.
Are you fucking kidding me?
“Whoa whoa whoa,” she sings way off-key over Bette Midler’s voice. She continues butchering the song and I have a sudden need to leave the club before I puke up my dinner on the dance floor.
I touch over my ear to see if the flower is still there, it is, before heading outside. I take one last look, hoping to see the crowd throwing rotten tomatoes at Stephanie but I see Megan standing in front of her instead, dancing as her new best friend sings to her way off pitch.
The air is cool tonight and it feels nice on my hot skin. The breeze is blowing through the palm trees making them tickle each other and the stunning lit up pool is visible in the distance. I sit on the curb and watch the people pass. A young couple walks by holding the hand of a cute toddler. They nod and smile at me as they walk. It’s a really nice resort. I just wish I was here on better terms.
“I’ve heard cats being tortured that sound better,” a deep, raspy voice says behind me. Ethan walks up and sits down next to me on the curb.
“I know, right?” I ask. “I thought I was the only one.”
“No,” he says, stretching his muscular legs out. “Everyone is either drunk or just being polite.”
He makes me laugh. “Has she always been like this?”
“Unfortunately,” he says. “Why do you think I moved to Chicago?”
“Is that where you live?” I ask, playing dumb as if I hadn’t sent Julia with a written list of questions to ask Megan about him.
“Mm-hm.”
“So what do you do in the City of Brotherly Love?” I ask.
“That’s Philly,” he says, chuckling.
“Oh right.” Shit.
“I own a bar and I just opened up a tattoo shop,” he says.
“Do you do tattoos?”
“Sometimes,” he says. “But not as much as I’d like to. It takes a lot of time to run the shop.”
“I’d love to see some of your work,” I say, wondering what his style is like. “I’ve never met a tattoo artist before.”
He lifts up his sleeve on his left arm. His biceps are huge and look as hard as the curb under my ass. “Right here.”
“Did you do that?” I ask, looking at the intricate tattoo of a dragon on his skin.
“My first tattoo is under that,” he says with a smile. “I used to practice on my arms but they were really bad so I got my friend Tito to cover them up.”
My eyes linger on the contours of his tricep and the sheer size of his arms. I could wrap my index fingers and thumbs around it and they wouldn’t be able to touch each other.
He rolls his sleeve down and I hide my disappointment. “What do you do back home?”
I sigh. “I’m a receptionist at a pet food company.”
“Which one?” he asks.
“Doggy Donuts.” He looks at me with a blank stare. “It’s the kibble that’s shaped like donuts.”
He shrugs.
“You know the commercial,” I say. “Ain’t no buts when it comes to donuts. Your mutts will go nuts for doggy donuts!”
Oh my God. Did I just sing that?
He laughs. “Not sure. Can you sing it again?”
I stand up and do the dance that the dogs do in the commercial while I sing. Might as well own it. “Ain’t no buts when it comes to donuts. Your mutts will go nuts for doggy donuts!”
He laughs as I sit back down. “You’re making me want to get a dog just so I can buy that dog food.”
“Don’t,” I say. “It’s just ground up chicken bones and pig guts. It will take three years off your dog’s life.”
“Do you like it?” he asks.
“It’s dog food. I’ve never tasted it.”
He laughs. “The job. Do you like the job?”
I shrug. “It’s okay. It has some perks like I can play Candy Crush if there’re no calls but it has a lot of downsides to it.”
“Like what?”
“My hair always smells like dog food.”
He laughs. I can’t believe I keep making him laugh.
“Always?” he asks.
“Yup,” I admit. “Even on the weekends. I have to walk an extra three blocks on the way home to avoid a dog park.”
“Seriously?” he asks laughing.
“Unfortunately yes. They go nuts. One dog actually jumped the fence to get at me.”
“Well, mutts do go nuts for doggy donuts,” he says.
We both laugh and I can’t believe that we’re actually getting along. He’s fun to be with when he’s not talking about sex. Way more fun than Aaron has been lately.
The laughing dies off and we look at each other awkwardly. He reaches out and touches my hand with the tip of his finger. There’s electricity in his touch and it sends tingles racing through my body.
“I should go inside,” I say, pulling my hand away and feeling shy.
“No, you shouldn’t,” he answers, locking his eyes on mine.
I smile shyly. “Maybe not. But I’m going to go in anyway.”
I spend the next few hours hanging out with everyone except Ethan. I don’t know why I consciously avoid him the entire time but I do.
The club starts to empty out as the night goes on. At one point I see Stephanie and Megan at the bar with a line of shots. Stephanie is feeding her shot after shot even though she’s already beyond wasted.
This is not going to end well. Megan has a habit of passing out and there’s nothing you can do to wake her up.
I look around for help and everyone seems to be gone. Julia and Cynthia left an hour ago, Lucas, Aaron, and even Ethan have disappeared. He probably went home with some girl. I try to convince myself that I’m not jealous.
Stephanie calls the bartender over. “More shots,” she says. Megan can barely hold her head up let alone balance on the bar stool.
“I think she’s had enough,” I say to Stephanie, stepping between them.
“Come on Tanya,” she says, clearly drunk herself. “Or should I call you Yawn-ya?” She squeals in a loud pitch that sounds like a pig in pain.
Megan closes her eyes and her head drops forward, hitting the sticky bar with a thud. Stephanie reaches over me and shakes her shoulder. She’s out for the count. I know that sight and she’s not going to get up.
I look around for any familiar face that can help me out but there’s no one left.
“We won’t be able to wake her up,” I say. “We’ll have to carry her back.”
Stephanie shrugs and stands up off the bar stool. “She’ll be fine. The staff will bring her back. That’s what they get paid for.”
“No, it’s not,” I say as she steps away from the bar. “We can’t leave her here. Come on and help me out.”
I grab her heavy arm and wrap it around my shoulder, trying to be careful to not let her head roll backward. She’s pure, dead weight and a little too heavy for me. “Grab her other arm.”
Stephanie scrunches her nose as she looks at Megan. “I’m going to go dance.”
My mouth drops as she walks away. Even I didn’t think she was that bad. She doesn’t stop at the dance floor and just leaves the club.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I mutter unde
r my breath. Aaron is gone too. I’m all by myself with my friend, the drunken sack of potatoes.
After twenty minutes of struggling to get her off the bar, two women with much stronger arms than me take pity on me and help me drag her across the resort back to her room. I find her key card in her pocket, thank the women and then drag her into her honeymoon suite and onto the bed. Lucas is still MIA.
She barely moves as I find her pj's, change her, wipe off her makeup and roll her under the sheets. I sit on the bed and catch my breath, exhausted when I’ve finally finished it all.
Megan looks so peaceful sleeping on the pillow. Now that she’s safe in bed the worry that I had is now replaced with the hurt that I’ve been feeling the past few weeks.
“I’m pissed at you,” I say to her calm, passed out face. “I should have been the maid of honor. After all we’ve been through and you choose her of all people?” Tears cloud over my eyes, blurring my vision. “I thought I meant more to you than this. You mean more to me than this.”
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and they come away wet. “I know she’s paying for your honeymoon and she’s going to be your sister-in-law but still. That’s not an excuse. It should be me.”
She still hasn’t moved as her unconscious ears listen to the words I haven’t had the courage to say. “This really sucks Megan. You hurt my feelings.”
The door swings open and I jump off the bed in surprise. I wipe the tears from my eyes as Lucas stumbles in with Ethan holding him up.
“We have a hot one here,” Ethan says.
Lucas babbles something incoherent. He looks like he got shot with a tranquilizer dart the way his movements are so groggy. Ethan grabs his torso, lifts him off his feet and dumps him on the bed.
He grabs the garbage can from the bathroom and puts it at the foot of the bed. “I think he’s going to need that in the morning.” He walks over to the door and turns his head as he opens it.
I haven’t moved from the spot where I’ve been standing.
“Are you coming?” he asks.
Lucas is sprawled across the sheets still wearing his tight buttoned up shirt and shorts. Even his loafers are still on his feet. “Aren’t you going to put him in his pajamas?”
“Fuck no,” he says with a laugh. “We’re guys. He’s lucky that I didn’t leave him on the beach chair. I just didn’t want him all sunburnt for the wedding.”
I slip off his shoes as I walk to the door. It’s the least I can do.
Ethan holds the door open for me and he smiles as I walk past him. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”
Normally I would argue but I’ve felt so alone all night that I let him. I need some company and I like his.
We walk down the immaculate hallway of the VIP building and he casually places his hand on my lower back as he guides me into the elevator.
The doors close and I stare ahead at our reflection in the wavy, stainless steel walls. The flower that he placed behind my ear is still there, shining a bright red.
He leans towards me and slides his hand around my waist. “What a good-looking couple,” he says, looking ahead at our reflection.
I couldn’t agree more but I don’t respond. The doors bing open way too soon, and I step out, letting his hand fall from my waist.
It’s late now and most of the resort lights are off, except for the path and the winding pool that’s lit up a glowing blue. I can smell the salt of the ocean on the warm breeze and hear some soft music playing from the cocktail lounge on the other side of the resort. It’s dark and there’s no one around. Nothing to see us but the bright stars overhead and the swaying palm trees.
He slips his hand into mine and I’m shocked at how natural it feels.
“I think we should part here,” I whisper, pulling my hand away from his. My fingers tingle with the urge to touch him again. I take a step back instead.
“Why?”
“Ethan,” I say, rubbing my forehead. “I have a boyfriend.”
“So?” he says, raising his shoulders. “You’re not married. I still have a shot.”
I wave my hand around the empty chairs and dark rooms. “Why are you after me? You could have any girl on this resort.”
He stares in my eyes with a face so serious that it gives me shivers. “Not any girl. Not the one I want.”
The lights of the pool are reflecting in his eyes making them a fierce blue. Nothing could make him more attractive than he is right now. Any minute change of his face, even one that is meant to be an improvement, would only hurt his looks. He’s perfect the way he is.
“We live in different cities,” I say. “You own a bar and a tattoo parlor, and I work at a dog food company. You must go to bed at four in the morning every night and staying up to nine thirty is considered late for me. We have nothing in common.”
He doesn’t look discouraged. “I follow my gut,” he says. “I always have. And my gut wants you.”
“That’s not very romantic,” I say, laughing. “Normally it’s the heart that wants another person. The gut usually wants French fries.”
“My heart wants you too,” he says. “And you should hear what my cock has to say about it.”
A laugh bursts from my lips and I shake my head. “Come on, Ethan. It would be fun for a bit but like I said we have nothing in common.”
My stomach sinks as I take the flower from my ear and tuck it into his hand.
“Goodnight,” I say and walk away.
I walk for ten minutes without looking back. My legs and chest feel heavy and I cross my arms, holding my shoulders as I walk.
This is going to be a shitty week. I can feel it. I just want to get it over with and go home. I’m sick of this achy feeling in my chest like my heart is breaking over and over again.
Familiar giggling echoes through the night and I roll my eyes when I see where it’s coming from. There’s a couple going at it on one of the beach chairs by the pool. I’d recognize that irritating laugh and long blond hair anyway. Looks like Stephanie found someone to spend the night with. Slut. At least her clothes are still on but he does have a hand up her shirt.
Stephanie bends over the guy and makes out with him. Yuck.
Wait a minute. I recognize those flip flops on that guy. They have the same outline of red sunglasses imprinted on the sole of the ones that I bought Aaron. The ones that he complained were the wrong brand name and the ones that he never paid me back for.
I hurry down the path and creep behind the dark bushes, looking at them from another angle. That fucker!
It’s Aaron.
Stephanie stands up off the chair and takes his hand. She pulls him up, looking at him with pure lust in her eyes. Vomit creeps up my throat as they kiss on the mouth. I’m frozen in shock behind the bushes and I don’t even move when she pulls him onto the path and they walk hand in hand back towards her room.
I’m stunned. I don’t know why but I am. I’ve never been cheated on before and it sucks.
An empty pit in my stomach accompanies me on the rest of the way back. I open the room, get in my pj's and crawl into bed, not even bothering to take off my makeup.
I spend the next few hours staring at the curtains and watching the lights from the cars in the parking lot dance across the ugly material.
Aaron finally opens the door when the room is beginning to light up from the rising sun. He crashes onto the bed and is snoring almost immediately.
I never turn around. I feel nauseated from being beside him. From his presence but mostly from his smell. I can smell her on him. Her cheap perfume and the smell of her sex.
It’s the first time ever that I cry myself to sleep.
Chapter Six
Tanya
Day Two
I wake up to the soothing sounds of two Mexicans arguing outside my window. Aaron is still unconscious. Maybe I’ll get lucky and he’ll drift off into a coma forever.
My head is pounding as I climb out of bed and yank the curtains apart. There’s
a forklift in the parking lot with crates stacked on the metal prongs. The last wooden crate is flipped over on the cement with broken watermelons everywhere.
The two Mexicans turn back, look at me for two seconds, then turn back and continue yelling at each other.
Aaron doesn’t wake up. I stand over the bed with my hands on my hips glaring at him. I can’t believe that he did that. Wait. Yes, I can.
It’s been over for a long time between the two of us. I just didn’t want to admit it. I look at him lying on the sheets, still in his clothes from last night, and feel nothing but disgust. The stink of his alcohol-filled sweat is making my nose curl and the look of his mouth open, drooling on the pillow, is making my hands curl into fists.
We’re through. I’m doner than done with him. He slept with Stephanie of all people. He’s disgusting.
I only wish I wasn’t stuck in the same room as him for the rest of the week.
I change into my bathing suit, grab my suntan lotion and book, and toss them into my beach bag. I don’t feel like waking him up and having the talk. I don’t think I can stomach hearing his lies. I just want to get out of this room.
I hope you choke on your vomit.
I give his sleeping, disgusting, cheating body the finger and slam the door.
I actually feel lighter as I’m walking to the breakfast buffet, like there’s a weight lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t realize the heaviness that came with being Aaron’s girlfriend.
Cynthia and Julia are sitting at a table inside the buffet, each with a big pile of pancakes in front of them. My stomach growls when I see them but I grab a banana, apple and yogurt instead. I don’t want to look five months pregnant in my bikini this afternoon.
I pull up a wicker chair and tell them about last night’s events. They’re freaking out.
“That bitch!” Julia says a little too loud. The mom at the table next to us gives her a dirty look and tells her six-year-old never to use that word.
“I don’t want you guys telling Megan,” I say, peeling my banana. “I don’t want this to ruin her wedding week.”
