by Deena Bright
“Shut the mother fuck up or I will rip your goddamn tongue out of your judgmental, bitchy ass mouth,” Char screamed, drawing a great deal of unwanted attention over to us. “You know nothing, but pass judgment on everything,”
I grabbed at Char’s arm to pull her out of the store, but she shoved me away. Charlene continued, as her voice carried, and she built up a giant mouthful of spiteful anger. She was a powder keg about to explode. “Just because your husband hasn’t bothered to hacksaw his way through your cobweb-coated cooter to fuck you in over a decade doesn’t mean… does not fucking mean… you can accost my friend in a store.”
Pointing at Char, closing in on her, the lady said, “Listen here you little sluts, you will not—”
Batting the woman’s hand out of the way, she said, “No you listen… and you listen good, because I’m only going to say it once. You don’t know her, have never even met her. This girl would do anything for her students; she’s the teacher you dreamed your kids could have. You know why?”
Horrified, the lady started to back away and turn her back on Char, but Char circled around to face her again. “Oh I’m not done, not even close, lady. You started this; you will listen, while I fucking finish it. My friend, she actually cares about her students, not just their damn schoolwork or their grades. She cares about their lives, their futures, their happiness.”
Char put down her purse, forcing the lady to back up, probably afraid Char was going to hit her. “For nine months… nine months… out of the fucking year, I lose my friend, because she devotes all of her time and her energy to those kids. You know why? Because people like you spend too much time worrying about what everybody else in this world is doing and not what your fucking kids are doing.”
At this point, the woman had heard enough and began to leave the store, only infuriating and firing Char up more. As she was exiting the store, Char followed her, yelling loudly, “Your kids, they’re out getting high, getting drunk, getting abortions, and bullying kids into suicide, while you sit your lazy, fat, sex-deprived asses at home finding new ways to ridicule and hurt the lives of those around you. So go fuck yourself… go fuck your husband… or just go fuck off… and leave us… and everyone else the fuck alone. You ugly fucking cunt-rock.”
Applause erupted throughout the store, stopping Char in her tracks. She looked around, somewhat bewildered. Oftentimes, when Char was on a roll, she forgot her surroundings and sometimes her overall purpose.
Char stormed fiercely back over to me, raging like a lunatic. “I cannot fucking believe—”
Cutting her off, “So do you think I should buy a baseball hat to match?” I asked, holding one up near my head, smiling from ear-to-ear.
“No, I think you should buy me a shot… maybe four of them,” she said, slumping down on the bench next to the dressing rooms, breathing like she’d just run a race.
Laughing and hugging her, I said, “And the best friend of the century award goes to… Charlene Palmer.”
Char rolled her eyes and shoved me off of her. “And what lesson did we learn here today, Janelle?” she asked. I shrugged my shoulders, not certain what she was getting at. “Oh for God’s sake… there is no reason for two sexy, single women to be buying clothes in the Indians’ store.”
Truthfully, the whole incident had me spooked. I was beginning to see what Mr. Baker, my superintendent, had meant. I’d worked for so long to try to make a name for myself, a reputation in the district that meant something, only for it to be tarnished and destroyed within a month’s time. Was this really how I wanted the general public to view me? Briggs Alexander was a hotshot superstar now, but that didn’t change how the rest of the world was going to view me. Janelle Garrity was the harlot school teacher who seduced her impressionable young students. Nobody seemed to think or want to believe that this grown man, this 24-year-old man, was the one who seduced me. I was the villain; he was the innocent victim, as was Leo. Wow, that sucked ass.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you wouldn’t let me drive,” Briggs whined, leaning his seat back in my car.
“You can’t drive. I’ve got big birthday plans for you. They won’t pan out if I don’t get you sloppy-ass drunk so I can take advantage of you,” I said, glancing quickly at him.
Let’s be honest, I’m a piss-poor driver, distracted at all times. Whenever I go anywhere with my friends or family, I very rarely get to drive. Briggs had already yelled, “Watch it,” three times, and we’d only been driving for ten minutes. But I wanted this day to be all about him. I didn’t want him to have to worry about anything. I was in the driver’s seat, in every possible way.
“It’s not being taken advantage of if I’m a more than willing participant,” he shot my own line back at me. “Janelle, I am willing. Very willing.”
“You don’t think I already know that?” I asked, giggling at him.
“Not how I mean, you don’t,” he said, turning more to face me. “I talked to Char the other day.”
“Y’all are pretty chummy,” I said. “And what did my big mouthed bestie bitch say?” God only knew what Char and Briggs talked about when I wasn’t monitoring and censoring their conversations.
“I don’t think you realize how into this… into you… I am. You should’ve told me about those skanky chicks in the bathroom,” he said, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Briggs, I didn’t want to upset you, too,” I admitted. “Plus, it was so embarrassing. I didn’t want us to have to deal with all that shit on top of the huge pile of shit we’re already dealing with.”
“Janelle, the Marcus and Vince shit is going to go away, probably pretty soon,” he explained. “But that shit, the shit from that bathroom, that’s not going anywhere. I’ve been dealing with that kind of crap for ages. If you’re into me… into us… then you’re going to need to get some thicker-ass skin.” He trailed his hand down my arms and back up through my hair. “Babe, you need to tell jealous bitches like that to fuck off and that Briggs Alexander has all he’s ever wanted… and will ever want.”
“Jealous? You think they wanted you?” I asked, jokingly.
“Hell yeah, have you seen this?” he said, grinning, lifting his shirt as he ran his hand over his stomach. “They wanted what you have, baby.”
“Or… maybe…” I couldn’t think of anything clever, so I just bit my lower lip.
“You got nothing, right?” he teased.
“I got nothing,” I confessed. “You sir, are so right, so fucking right.”
AFTER THE INDIANS’ game, Briggs was all bummed out, because we’d lost. He was such a guy. You’d have thought that he played for them the way he acted all defeated and mopey. It didn’t matter that we had Club Seats (thanks to Jasper), didn’t matter that we had all-you-can-eat food and drinks throughout the entire game (Jasper again), didn’t matter that I’d put a cute birthday message on the scoreboard, and it didn’t matter that he’d caught a foul ball and was glorified all over the jumbo-tron. What mattered was that Briggs’ night was ruined, because the Yankees beat the Indians, 10-4. This was new for me. Marcus was certainly not into sports. Jasper was, but I never had to hang out with pouty “My Team Lost” Jasper.
“Are you going to pull yourself out of this funk?” I asked, as we walked down the street. “Have you not seen what I’m wearing?” He hadn’t even commented when I went into the bathroom after the game and changed quickly into my skank-a-licious outfit. Briggs didn’t even give me his “I want to fuck the shit out of you look” that I was getting quite accustomed to.
“I’m not in a funk. I just can’t believe we gave up six runs in the seventh inning. Who does that? They didn’t have anyone better in the bullpen?” he asked for the millionth time.
“Seriously, if you use the word ‘bullpen’ one more time, I’m going to lock you in one,” I threatened.
“Janelle, a bullpen isn’t a real—”
I stopped dead in my tracks, crossed my arms over my chest and refused to take another step. “Briggs Alexa
nder, I’m going to drive your whiny ass home and call your birthday a total loss if you don’t get back into the game—this game—the game of Janelle seducing the mother-fuck out of you,” I scolded.
“Okay, you win. You’re right. I’m sorry. Keep seducing. Not another word from me,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.
“BLOW ON THIS, Baby,” Briggs said, staring into my eyes. I glanced around at the crowd around us; women just flocked to him. Many people even took pictures of him without his knowledge or consent. Maybe he did know, but he didn’t let on like he did.
“If I had a quarter for every time someone begged me to blow—”
“Just do it,” he said, laughing. I blew on the dice, and he threw them down the table. We were acting like we were old pros at Craps, betting big on the table, and losing the majority of our money. I was already down $80.00; Briggs was down $470.00. Gambling was certainly not our thing, but we were having a blast. Once he really snapped out of his funk, he was back to the fun-loving Briggs that I was falling for. You could always bank on a casino being a good time—even if you weren’t bringing home the bank.
He hadn’t noticed my outfit or that I’d really even changed until some random guy stared at me as I walked by. I tried to ignore him, but the guy said, “Dayum” while staring at my ass. Briggs turned on him, sizing him up. The guy gave him “a thumbs up” and kept walking. When Briggs turned back and looked at me, he almost looked shocked that I no longer had my Tribe gear on. “When’d you change? That’s… that’s… ‘dayum’… you’re so fucking hot.”
I winked at him and said, “I figured that since the Indians didn’t get lucky and our gambling wasn’t so lucky that I’d better take you home and make sure we both got lucky on 7-11.”
“Now, you’re thinking. Let’s blow this last 30 bucks on slots, and get home to play a whole different kind of slots,” he teased.
“Well look at you, feeding me some puns. You sure know how to make an English teacher hot,” I said, kissing him.
On the drive home (Briggs drove), he kept hounding me to tell him what the rest of his surprises were. I wouldn’t cave, knowing that he’d love what else I had up my sleeve. He could wait it out.
“Want to know what I really want for my birthday?” he asked, glancing at me.
“Let me guess,” I said, scooting closer to him. “You’ve always dreamed of getting 77 South road head.”
“Fuck no!” he said, shaking his head vigorously. “I had a buddy in college whose girl used to get off on sucking him while he drove. Liked when truckers could see and shit,” he explained. “Well, one time, he got too into it, and hit the guardrail. Well, she bit down. Let’s just say, he was out of commission for a bit. Ha… another pun.”
“Seriously? Did she like bite it… off?” I asked, shocked.
“Nah, but he had some bad injuries. Stitches in some crazy places,” he said, shivering at the thought.
“Noted. No road head for Briggs. Got it.” I said.
“No, what I really want… what would make this the best birthday ever… would be to spend all night with you, sleeping with you in my arms,” he admitted.
Looking at him, seeing the sincerity and hope in his crystal blue eyes, I knew I couldn’t deny him this request. Honestly, I didn’t even want to deny him. I wanted to sleep all night in his arms and wake up next to him.
“I LOVE THEM,” he said, trying on the sunglasses I’d bought for him. “I’ve been meaning to get another pair. Lost mine last summer. How do they look?”
“Perfect,” I said, kissing the tip of his nose. “They’ll do the trick.”
“What trick? What’s that mean? What’re you trying to do?” he said eyeing me suspiciously.
“Uhhh, let’s just say, you get a little uglier when you put them on,” I said, laughing.
“Uglier? What?” he said, pretending to be offended.
“I’m trying to keep those eyes to myself. I figure chicks will back off if they can’t see those beautiful baby blues,” I explained, feeling territorially victorious.
Taking of the sunglasses, “You’re using me for my eyes, aren’t you?” he asked, making his eyes really wide and crazily creepy.
“You know it,” I said. “Now for the fun gift.” I went around to the other side of the couch and grabbed the jar, handing it to him. “This is a jar of 24 things, because you’re 24 today, that I’d either like to do to you, have done to me, or think we should do together… and they’re all deliciously dirty and sexy.” He reached for one of the papers, but I stopped him. “Slow down. We want to save some, grab a few every day or so. It’ll be fun. So let’s see what fun things we’re going to do tonight.”
His eyes widened and then he grinned, taking out one of the strips of paper, and read, “I want to shave you completely, and then lick honey off my sweet honey.” Briggs looked at me, pulled me down onto his lap and kissed my neck. “This has been the best birthday ever. Thank you, Janelle,” he said, kissing me passionately, running his hands over my bare back. Halter-tops were perfect for skin-on-skin contact. I couldn’t wait for him to see me in the referee costume too. Briggs kissed me again, and then said, “Now go get your razor… and the honey.”
I COULD SERIOUSLY get used to waking up in Briggs’ arms. We literally slept all night entwined in one other. Normally, I hated to be touched while I slept, wanted my own room and space. I often felt hot and claustrophobic with someone touching me all night long. I reveled in the feeling of Briggs’ arms around me, offering security and comfort.
“Morning Babe,” he said, brushing my hair out of my eyes. “Want to get another strip of paper out of the jar?”
“Yes,” I said, smiling. “I need to go pee first though. I’ll go. You get the jar.”
Just as we were getting out of bed, there was a knock at my front door. I glanced at the clock. It was 10:15 a.m. Feeling relieved that Jasper and Leo were both working, I threw on an old t-shirt and slipped on some underwear. I hated the way Jasper looked at me after a man spent the night. Jasper was good at being the overprotective older brother. But even worse would be the look that Leo would give me if he knew that Briggs and I’d broken the contract and spent all night together. Plus, I just hated the look Leo gave me after I’d spent any time with Briggs.
“Coming,” I yelled, unlocking the door.
Leo was on the porch, looking haggard and worn. “Leo, what’s wrong?” I asked, my stomach dropping.
I motioned for him to come in. He walked in and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Briggs coming out of the bathroom. Leo didn’t say anything. He just turned around and walked outside. Worried, I followed him out, chasing him down.
“Leo! Wait!” I yelled, following him. “Stop! What’s going on?”
He stopped and didn’t turn around. “I need to go.”
“Just talk to me,” I pleaded. “What’s wrong?”
Leo looked at me and dropped his head. “I came over to talk, to tell you that I was leaving, but that… that…” he stopped, pointing to the house. “It’s just too much,” he admitted.
“I know. I’m sorry,” I said, reaching for him. His body remained stiff, not responding or softening to my touch. “What is it? What do you want to talk about?”
“I’m leaving. I’m going to Arizona for while. I want to be there when Megan… when she—” He didn’t, or couldn’t, finish his sentence. “I want to go out there for a while. I’m leaving this afternoon,” he said.
“Today?” I asked, feeling pains in my heart.
“Yeah, I want to be there,” he said, laying his head down on the hood of his SUV. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at me said, “Janelle, I can’t do this. Not right now.”
I rubbed his back, and said, “I know, we’ll talk more when you get back. Just know that I’m here if you need anything. I hate seeing you like—”
“No, I mean this… you and me… Briggs and you…” he said, pounding his fist on the hood. “It’s just… it’s… not the
right time to get involved.”
“Oh… so you mean that you can’t… you don’t want to be with… ummm… okay,” I said, not really knowing what to say. I just let the words fade off, not finishing my sentence. What was I supposed to say? Beg him to stay? To reconsider? How could I ask him to still want me when I couldn’t promise that I only wanted him? How was that fair?
“I’m going to go,” he said. Leo hugged me, and kissed the top of my head. “Bye Janelle.”
“Leo?’ I said, holding his hand. “Are you breaking up with me? Ending this for good?” I had to know, had to put it out there. I couldn’t let him leave without knowing his definitive answer.
“How do you break up with someone you don’t really have in the first place?” he said as he walked away and got into his car.
“I WAS SURPRISED you didn’t call me a hundred times this morning,” Jocelyn said when I got into her car. Jasper and Jocelyn were going with me to my first Flowers Vs. Flowers court hearing. Gavin Greenwick was meeting us there.
“I wanted to, but I just figured out what I was going to wear on my own,” I admitted. I chose my parent-teacher conference orange and tan dress. It’s conservative but fashionable at the same time. I really wanted to wear one of my black or gray dresses, but I still hadn’t gotten my shoes back from Char. So, I had to wear my caramel-colored pumps instead. I’d twisted my long, dark hair into a sleek twist, adding professional sophistication to my look. I knew Marcus would look like a million bucks. He filled out a suit well.
When we arrived at the courthouse, Jasper and Jocelyn escorted me in to meet with Gavin. They walked on either side of me, providing the security that I so desperately needed at this point. I’d spent all night wishing that miraculously somehow my parents would be waiting for us when we walked into the courthouse. No such luck. Sure, having Jasper and Joz with me, holding my hands, was comforting, but nothing is as comforting as having your parents with you, supporting you. I wasn’t even sure what remote underprivileged country they were in at this time. It was getting harder and harder to keep track.
