They walked through the room in between the doors outside that led to the doors inside the pub, where the machines for the newspapers, candy were stationed, and that was probably the only silent room in the whole building, for when Willy swung open the door inside to the actual establishment, the rush of shouting slurring curses and guffaws entwined in the air tainted with nicotine blew into Spencer’s face so bad that it made him wipe his hand across his features.
Willy scanned the premises to track down their fresh meat and then spotted them seated way across the pub, talking and laughing. He smiled at the sight, watching the two of them lost in their own gossiping of fashion line clothing, accessories, boys—no doubt the Kirsten chick was right now telling the other one how hot her date was. The bottom line was they had no clue, no knowledge, no idea what was just around the corner for them. This evening was going to go down ever so exceptionally and deliciously. He looked at Spencer with a finger pointed to them.
“There they are,” Willy said with a smile and a wink. “C’mon.”
Willy walked and Spencer followed.
He took a glance at both girls and didn’t take a lot to figure out who's was going to be who's. The blonde was far too attractive to meet Spencer’s luck, but someone who would be a dead-on score for Willy. So it had to have been the blue sweater sitting across from her.
Spencer was actually happy to have this one. She had the gist of the obedient, innocent type, and one look at her even from his distance he could see that the outward appearance had matched her personality; that kind of girl who hugged her books to her chest as she walked down the hallways to her next class at high school. Spencer always had an infatuation for those kind of quiet chicks. This was perfect. Things were starting to get more and more comfortable for him now.
The blonde stood up to greet Willy.
“Hi, guys!” she said gaily, through a tantalizing smile. Spencer could have punched Willy in the arm right at that moment for being so fucking lucky. “You’re right on time!”
Willy turned to Spencer.
“Spencer, this is Kirsten…”
Kirsten displayed that sweet, charming trademark of a smile for him with a little wave. He then turned her pointed finger to the second girl.
“…and this is…”
She spoke with a smile of her own as she looked at Spencer. “Holly.”
Holly rose to her feet to extend a hand, still smiling. Spencer took it.
“Nice to meet you ladies,” he said, smiling in return. “I’m Spencer.”
“Hi, Spencer.”
“Hi.”
They shook hands; Spencer feeling the gentle, petite hand in his and had a thought that lasted a millisecond of how easy it would be to crush every single solitary bone in that hand. For a flash—a comet that fled through his head that came just as fast as it went—he was actually tempted. That hand was just so soft and fragile and the bones in there were so light and narrow, he wanted to crunch them all together with his fist and hear them snap and her shriek.
She had a good body, too, luckily not a body toned-downed enough to where she could give him problems if she decided to fight. She had the goods; she had the potential to dress like her friend, Kirsten, who most-definitely met with his approval down south. Willy, as he knew him to be since the day he met him, was filthy stinking rich in luck.
Ultimately, he was very pleased. Kirsten had that bad girl vibe. This will be far more appetizing with a good girl.
“You look great,” Spencer said to Holly, and looked over to her purse sitting on the table. It was crafted as a white Chinese take-out box with a strap. “That’s a cute purse.”
Holly looked over to the bag he referred to, running her fingers over her ear and looking back over to Spencer with that sweet angelic smile, her features gleaming to life.
“Thank you!” she said, her cheeks rosing. “I got it from this blowout sale at Dillard’s…”
The man knows his shit! thought Spencer.
“And you look great, too.” Holly said. “The both of you do.”
“Did you guys want to sit a while and have a drink or should we go?” Kirsten said.
“No way,” Willy said immediately. “How much did you guys have?”
“I just had one Cape Cod and the pussy here had a Diet Coke.” Kirsten said taunting Holly playfully. She responded with a sarcastic smirk and a middle finger.
“Because the place we're going to—this is a charity event for teaching unfortunate kids to read,” Willy said. “To show up plastered would put a permanent shitstain over our sign of support, dedication, loyalty to the children. You feel me? Think about the children, ladies. Keep it real.”
Kirsten smiled. “'Dedication'...The only sign of 'dedication' they wanna see is a dead president—preferably Franklin.”
“True that. So...are we all ready?”
“I’m ready.” Holly said.
“I’m ready, too.” Spencer.
“Well, let’s do it, then.” Kirsten.
“Sounds good to me,” Willy. “The night is still young, and it’s a crime to waste good youth, isn’t that so, Spense?”
“That is most definitely so, Willy.”
Willy bellowed his trademark howl in the midst of all the uproarious chatter that filled the pub. It was a habit of his he usually did when the mood struck him right. Willy put an arm around a laughing Kirsten's shoulder as they headed for the front doors. Spencer, out of instinct, stuck his hands in his pockets as to refrain from placing them improperly on his date without thinking, and looked back to her, waiting for her to come by his side so they could walk out together.
She gave a thin smile and widened her eyes to indicate Oooookaaayy.
Spencer rolled his eyes in agreement, and shared a chuckle with her and they both walked side-by-side out of the noise-polluted bar.
Kill the Cherry Page 4
