Silent Flutter (The Butterfly Series)

by Lacey Ellmoore

  I nodded my head in agreement and took off for the party, exactly two and a half miles away. Little did Inner-me know, that on the night I decided to give up The Game, I’d meet someone that was definitely worth playing for. Yes, he was another heartthrob baseball player with all the charm in the world and good looks to go with it, but for some reason, this one was different.

  JWV

  November 10, 2009

  I didn't get to the party until almost 11:00 that night and I didn't notice the new guy until exactly midnight. I remember the time because that's when I was led forcibly inside by one of The Neighbors from having a smoke break in the back yard. "It's time to sing happy birthday and take b-day shots with Judd!" he urged. I tried to argue with him that "there was no one there named Judd!" If there was, I would've slept with him by now, I thought. But he held tight to my wrist, dragging me through a group of girls huddled up by the dwindling bonfire in the middle of the yard and through the sliding back doors that led into the kitchen.

  I couldn't see over the massive builds of the ten to fifteen other baseball players crowded around the kitchen table. Most of them stood at six feet or taller, so even at my height there was no chance of seeing beyond them. The Neighbor let go of my wrist and pushed his way through the massive bodies and stood up on one of the rickety, old, wooden dining chairs and demanded everyone's attention with his booming, garbled voice. The music was turned down and people started hushing each other to hear what this drunken fool needed to say. "This here," The Fool said, pointing down to his right, although I still couldn't see who he was pointing to, "is Judd,” he continued. He's new to our school and new to the baseball team. This is his first, official team kegger and it also happens that in thirty seconds when the clock hits midnight, it will be his birthday. Everyone grab a shot so we can toast this asshole and show him how the Mad Dogs throw one fuckin’ good birthday bash! Cheers Bitches!"

  The Fool was such an eloquent speaker. Before he could even finish calling everyone "Bitches" the whole party erupted; slamming shot glasses into one another and then throwing back the hot, brown liquid. Shouts of "Happy birthday brother!" And "Drink up buddy, you're about to party Mad Dog style!" were being thrashed in the news guy's direction. At some point in the madness I guess I was given a shot glass full of "the devils sewage," as my girlfriends and I often referred to whiskey, so I threw back my shot and pushed my way through the wall of past Conquests in order to get a good look at the birthday boy. After fighting off The Fool’s death grip on my ass, I finally reached the front of the crowd.

  He was sitting in another old, but mismatched dining chair at the head of the table (now being set up for multiple rounds of beer pong) surrounded by groupies in slut gear much like my own, but much less classy, and boys in baseball caps, t-shirts, ripped up jeans and tennis shoes. He too had on a baseball cap, but his shirt was button down (pearl snaps), his jeans were a bit more clean-cut, but a faded wash and very flattering and he was wearing worn-in, brown cowboy boots. The thick, wavy brown hair that peeked out beneath his hat curled up around his ears and his perfectly straight, white teeth were almost all showing due to the giant grin above his chiseled jaw. That smile made my breath catch and I think I may have even stumbled a bit. At least I could blame that on the alcohol. His naturally olive toned cheeks were flushed a brilliant pink shade either from the shots or embarrassment from all of the attention.

  The Groupies had no shame. The best part of The Game was the chase, but they were literally throwing themselves at him: "Judd you have to take a birthday body shot!" "No, Judd, you need a birthday lap dance!" they cooed. There was no shortage of cleavage at the head of the table and it was being thrust at the new guy from every direction. I could see why though: he was hot and in a similar but different way than the rest of his teammates. And he was fresh meat. I was about to inch closer to him, make him my next Conquest, when Inner-me's pep talk was shouting louder than the forty-five people all crammed in this tiny kitchen and the music blaring from the IPod attached to speakers on the counter.Quinn, you will NOT go home with anyone that does not have a vagina between their legs! Ugh! Sometimes I wanted to kick Inner-me's ass! I took one last glance at Judd, surrounded by shots and perky breasts, and headed back outside for another smoke.

  Somehow The Fool found me and my ass, again. Is there a beer stuck to the back pocket of my jeans or what? "Hey sugar." He slurred. "Whatcha think about ol’ Judd in der? Think he'll wanna stick around after experiencing a Mad Dog bash like this one?" Fool's breath reeked like the Devils Sewage, chewing tobacco, and Groupie slobber. I wonder which one got a hold of this catch?

  “I think he'll be just fine. He seems to be holding his own and having a wonderful time in there," I replied, rolling my eyes and nodding my head in the direction of the kitchen. I could see him through the dirty glass still sitting in the same seat, taking sips from the beer in his plastic cup in between choking down shots that were stuffed between different girls' breasts.

  "What? Is shoe jealous or someting?" Fool slurred through a grin.

  "Ha! Hardly!" was all my fuzzy brain could come up with as a witty retort. I’m not jealous. I don’t even know him….but I want to.

  The Fool eventually moved on to seize a new ass in a group of more willing contenders, the same group that was huddled by the fire that was now almost completely out. The Neighbors, including Fool, were off limits when it came to my Conquests. We were too good of friends and I just didn’t see them that way. I also spent the majority of my free time over there and sex had a way of making things awkward.

  I sauntered into the garage to get a refill from the keg, and chatted with some of my girlfriends. “Did you see the new guy, Judd?” one of them asked. “Oh my gosh, he’s so hot!” another one chimed in. “If I didn’t have a boyfriend I would totally be all over that,” she said in an animated voice, but low enough that her boyfriend wouldn’t overhear. I don’t know why, but my stomach sank a bit when they talked about him.Ignore it! “I didn’t really get a good look at him,” I lied so that they would stop looking at me and expecting me to make my move.

  I decided to remove myself from talk of Judd all together and played a couple of rounds of darts with last Thursday’s Conquest. When I got tired of his "come on Quinny, my bed misses you; you practically sprinted out of there the other morning" and other pathetic but harmless pleadings to get me to go home with him again, I sauntered back out to the yard, trying to gauge just how tipsy I was. I was facing the puny fire, about to light up a new smoke when it was suddenly ripped out from between my lips from over my shoulder.

  "Don't you know those things will kill ya?" I turned around to find Judd holding my cigarette between his thick, long fingers with that same perfect smile on his face.

  "Hey, New Guy, who the hell do you think you are?" I whined, snatching the cigarette back from him, breaking it in half as I did.

  "Name’s Judd and it's my birthday," he grinned at me.

  "Ugh!” I huffed up at him. “Yeah, I know. And you just broke my smoke, Birthday Boy!" I snapped at him, holding the broken cigarette up towards his face between my two fingers.

  "Well, technically, you broke it, but like I said, those things will kill you, so you are most definitely better off, and you have me to thank for it. I saved your life," he gloated proudly. “I saw you in the kitchen earlier, with your, umm, boyfriend?” he said it like it was a question.

  Was he talking about The Fool? “Definitely not my boyfriend,” I huffed. I gave him an annoyed look and yanked a new cigarette out of my pack and held it tightly between my lips, lighting it as fast as I could before he could rip this one away, too. Once it was lit I took a nice long drag and blew all of the inhaled smoke right into that pretty face of his. Judd's perma-grin faded, but only for a split second before returning again. I was about to bring it back up to my lips when he grabbed it out of my fingers again. Fuck! He’s quick for someone who just downed at least ten “birthday booby shots.”

  Just as I
was about to protest, he stuck the cigarette, MY cigarette, between his plump, but firm lips and inhaled slowly. God, he looks sexy. Are those butterflies in my stomach?No! You’re probably just nauseated from the Sewage, Inner-me hissed. Mimicking me, he blew the smoke right back into my bewildered face; shaking me from my trance. I stood there waiting for words to form on my tongue, but they were trapped in a web of thousands of fluttering wings deep down in the pit of my core. Finally, he matter-of-a-factly stated, "Well I guess if you're going to give yourself Lung Cancer then I won't let you die alone."

  "Thanks" was all I could manage as he handed my bad habit back to me. I started to walk off because Inner-me was starting to bitch again, when Judd called from behind me.

  "Hey! What's your name, Firework?" Firework? What does that even mean? Is he flirting with me? Well too bad, not this girl, not anymore!

  As bluntly and plainly as I could I returned with, "Quinn" and kept on walking straight through the gate and out to the street where my car was parked on the curb.

  In the minute and a half that it took for me to drive back to my crappy apartment, I ran at least a hundred different scenarios through my mind of how tonight would have gone if Old Quinn would’ve been the one to meet Judd. All of them ended with me and the striking new guy naked in his bed; Judd smiling that gorgeous smile at me as we gave each other exactly what the other wanted. Why did I have to choose tonight to "change my ways" and give myself that annoying pep talk? Inner-me could be so irritating.

  In an effort to preserve this new version of myself, I decided to forego the next six parties at The Neighbors. As a result I was pleasantly surprised to find that I could get a lot done when I was neither drunk nor hung-over. I ran errands, cleaned my crappy apartment, went to the grocery store for more than just cigarettes and tampons and got quite a bit of studying done. I was starting to really like the New Me other than the fact that New Me couldn't cook said groceries to save her life. Then Fool called my cell phone one Saturday night, two weeks after the "Birthday Bash" and utterly disrupted my progress.

  Hesitantly, I answered my phone and heard, "Quinny, what the hell? Where you been?" ardently from the other end. I was about to answer Fool’s questions with a fictional excuse about the flu, when I was suddenly interrupted.

  "Quinny, huh?" Oh my gosh, I know that voice. It was no longer Fool on the other end of the line. The voice was smooth and deep and sexy. The voice provoked the butterflies waiting in the depths of my stomach. It was Judd.

  "Actually, it’s just Quinn. That fool doesn't know what he's talking about."

  "A fool he may be, but he does pose some good questions. Where have you been? I thought I would see you again at one of our parties. The guys all said that y’all are pretty good friends and you hang out over there quite a bit." Was that disappointment in his voice? No!Inner-me chimed in.He's probably just heard about all of your Conquests and knows that they all begin at the baseball parties and he wants to be the next one! Good point, Inner-Me. Remain calm, Quinn, I coached myself.

  "Oh you know, I've been around" I answered casually back.Great! Now he's probably thinking, Yeah, I've heard. Shit!Say something else. Anything else! "Ummm, so have I missed much?" I asked nervously.

  "Just me, hopefully" he purred. I swear I could hear that perfect grin stretching across his cheeks.

  Oh, God, yes. Yes, I have! Get a holdofyourself, Quinn."Well I haven't missed being able to smoke a whole cigarette without it being ripped out of my mouth and then being chastised for it!"Good girl.

  "Well aren't we feisty, Firework? Listen, the boys are having a party tonight and I think you should come. We have a big pre-season tournament next week so this is like our last, big hurrah before we have to start buckling down. You wouldn't want to miss that would you?" No, definitely not!

  "Yeah, it could be cool,” I remained indifferent. “I may stop by later."

  "Good. See ya later... Quinny."

  "It’s Qui...”but before I could protest he hung up. I swear I could almost hear him wink when he said, “Quinny.” I bet he looks sexy when he winks. Inner-me surrendered,I give up, you're asking for trouble.

  November 17, 2009

  With Inner-me deciding to take the backseat on this one, I hurried into the shower to start getting ready. By the time I got dressed in my tight jeans and a low cut thin sweater and arrived at The Neighbors it was around 10:30 PM already. Damn! I did not mean to take that long getting dressed. I really wanted to get to the party early and get a good buzz going before Judd got there so that I would be feeling confident and uninhibited. Normally I wouldn’t need alcohol for this, but for some reason this guy made me nervous.

  Judd arrived only minutes after me and we spent the first hour pretending not to notice one another. He'd walk into a room and I’d walk out. I'd walk outside and he'd make his way into the garage. He was right about one thing; this was definitely a "hurrah." This was the most people I'd ever seen at one of these parties and it was making it hard to just pretend not to see him. I found myself literally getting lost in crowds of people no matter where I went, inside or outside of the house.

  Around 12:30 I was finally starting to get the much missed tipsy feeling that I was craving over the past, two sober weeks. I had about twenty different conversations with twenty different groups of people, but I couldn't actually remember what any of them were about. My mind was consumed by thoughts about Judd and that fitted, light gray button down that brought out all of the green in his hazel eyes and complimented his tanned skin perfectly. I couldn’t help but wonder if any of the Groupies had gotten a hold of him or if he was nose deep in cleavage shots again. I understood the game he was playing; I'm the queen of game playing (or "Quinn of the Games" as my girlfriends liked to tease). Game rules: Pretend you don't care. Make them chase you. Move in for the kill.

  Why hasn't he gotten to the last phase in the game yet? I was slowly making my way through the living room, distracted by my own thoughts, when someone grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the dark, narrow hallway that led to the three bedrooms. Surprisingly enough this was the one place in the house that wasn’t swimming in drunken co-eds.

  "Hey, Firework." Judd was standing only inches from my face and my back was pressed up against the wood paneled wall.

  "Hey, New Guy,” I returned. “Firework?” I questioned him. He was at least three inches past six foot so I had to tilt my head completely up to look into his eyes.

  “Yeah, Firework.” He said with confidence. “You’re volatile yet stunning and maybe even a little irritating just like a firework,” he explained. “It’s a perfectly fitting nickname if I do say so myself,” Judd added.

  Did he say stunning? I stood there immobile, fixating on the way he just complimented and cut me down all in one breath. Finally he spoke again, “Have you been avoiding me, Quinny?” he feigned dejection by jutting out his perfectly full bottom lip.

  “It’s Quinn.” I bit back, over-annunciating the final N in my name. “And no, I haven’t been avoiding you. There were just so many people that I wanted to chat with that I guess I didn’t realize you were already here.”Liar! Inner-me shrieked.

  “Uh huh,” he said, sounding completely unconvinced. Then he reached down and grabbed my right hand, holding tightly onto my fingers with his left.

  "What are you doing?" I protested, but I didn’t move my hand out from his grasp. I liked the sensation that rang throughout my body just from the innocent contact between our hands. He reached into the back pocket of his expertly worn jeans with his right hand and pulled out a black permanent marker. He placed the lid between his teeth and pulled the cap off and spit it out with one swift motion, all while still gripping my hand in his. He began to trace three letters on the trembling surface, just above my thumb: JWV. I stared at the letters for a second, not wanting him to let go because the butterflies had returned, and this time I was certain that it was not a result of the alcohol. They were nothing like anything I had ever felt with the Conquests
.

  "Is that supposed to mean something?" I questioned, looking down at the dark initials.

  "Let me finish," he countered. Then he drew a small heart around the letters and reached down to pick up the cap to the marker from the floor and placed it back over the exposed ink. In doing so he let go of my hand, but I just stood there, frozen, wondering what to do or say next and hoping that he would touch me again.

  "I think I'm going to need more to go off of" I finally breathed out.

  "Judd Walker Vaughn," he recited smoothly, flashing that million-dollar grin. I couldn't help it, I smiled back.

  "So what, you're like tagging the girls you pick out at parties so you'll know which ones to load up in the truck when it's time to leave?" I went with a hunting analogy because I heard from one of the Groupies that when he's not playing baseball he's off hunting something somewhere. Also, the pearl snaps and boots were a dead giveaway.