Crush

by West, Heather

  Frowning a little, I considered our conversation.

  Although there was little doubt in my mind that I’d made a complete fool of myself, there was this strange nagging feeling in the back of my head; Danny had started it. It sounded kind of childish when I put it that way, but when the flirting had started to develop after dad turned in for the night, it had been Danny who’d started with the suggestive stuff.

  Or had he? I wondered soberly.

  In my mind, it had certainly seemed that way, but it really could have just been wishful thinking. I’d dealt with feelings of intense attraction towards my stepbrother ever since I was in high school, all but salivating over him. And that clearly hadn’t changed.

  The events of last night had certainly proved that. And I wasn’t talking about the flirting incident downstairs in the kitchen. I thought back on how I’d laid here last night, tired and a little drunk, thinking about the scene that I would never be able to eradicate from my mind. Danny fucking Melody. It had happened in high school and I’d just been a curious kid—or so I told myself—but night had spawned a whole slew of wet dreams that persisted still to this day. Distance had dampened my urgent need for Danny, but only a little bit. I still dreamt of him sometimes, and touching myself to the memory of his sexual escapades was not a new thing. Not by a long shot.

  Biting my lip, I couldn’t help the guilt that washed through me. I didn’t mean to feel the way that I did about him and my only consolation was that we weren’t related by blood.

  Across the hall, I heard floorboards creaking. For one wild moment, I thought it was Danny trying to sneak out his latest conquest. But then I remembered that Danny didn’t live here anymore, there was no need to sneak girls in and out even if he did, and realized that it was probably dad getting up.

  Thinking of dad made me remember just why it was I was here in the first place; Selene.

  Grief suddenly swamped me and I couldn’t help the tears that collected in the corners of my eyes before they spilled down over my cheeks. Suddenly, my whole world looked darker. I remembered that the funeral was today, this morning, and I felt awful for what happened the night before.

  I realized that my own desires had overshadowed everything; my dad’s grief, Danny’s pain, and the looming funeral the following day. With dread filling my stomach, I couldn’t help but wonder if last night had been a horrible result of Selene’s death. Had Danny just been so overcome by loss that he was latching on to anything he could find for comfort?

  Oh, god, I thought miserably. What if I took advantage of the situation?

  I told myself that that was pretty unlikely. Danny was always in control, especially when it came to matters of the bedroom, and there was no way that I’d just seduced him last night—or tried to. But I knew how the loss of someone so close to you could mess you up. I worried now that I had messed things up badly, that I’d messed up Danny.

  Taking a deep, steadying breath before I made myself hyperventilate, I tried to focus on the here and now. Nothing had happened last night—well, nothing with the two of us anyway—and if it came up, I could simply blame it on the overabundance of alcohol.

  It was a blatant lie, especially since I’d built up a bit of tolerance for alcohol after spending the last couple of years working as a bartender, but it sounded good and would protect both myself and Danny if things got too complicated.

  Having successfully calmed myself—mostly—I threw back the covers, I got out of bed. As I passed the vanity mirror, I once again caught sight of myself. I was a wreck. My hair was a tangled mass of golden blonde, there were bags under my red-rimmed eyes, and the tiny tank top I’d dug out of my closet was a lot more see through than I’d expected. My nipples looked like large, pale pink quarters and I was really grateful that I hadn’t just gone out into the hall to meet my dad.

  That would have been far too awkward.

  Grabbing the fluffy purple robe with the yellow stars on it, a remnant of my childhood, I slipped it on and headed to the bathroom. It was very short on me, but it covered all the important bits and I felt better for it.

  Dad’s door was still closed though I knew he was up, so I knocked quickly on his door. “Dad?”

  There was a pause and then I heard his muffled voice come through, “Yes?”

  “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to take a quick shower, then I’d like to make some breakfast if that’s alright with you.”

  “Are you sure honey?” he called, still through the door. “I can pick us something up.”

  I thought it was a little weird to have a conversation with the door closed, but I had a feeling that he’d woken up in much worse shape than I had. It probably hit him hard this morning when he remembered how he was going to his wife’s funeral today.

  “It’s okay, I want to.”

  He agreed and I grabbed a towel from the linen closet before going to the bathroom for my shower. I was grateful that there were two showers, one in the master bedroom, making it much easier to take as long as I wanted to get cleaned up.

  I locked the door—a force of habit now after that incident with Danny when we were in high school—and stripped out of my robe. I took off my tiny tank top then and dropped my panties. When I got the water to a nice warm temperature, I got in and washed up. I took my time, shaving, washing my hair, and just letting the water rush over my body.

  It was soothing in a way that little else in the world was.

  I tried hard not to think of Danny, but his strong body and wicked smile stuck in my head unlike anything else. I never was good at getting him out of my thoughts no matter how hard I tried. My mind went back to that time when we were still in high school. It was Danny’s senior year and really the only strange thing was that it hadn’t happened before that.

  I was taking a shower that morning before school. The water was so hot that it fogged up the glass and steam filled the room like smoke. I didn’t even hear the door open and I still don’t know how he didn’t notice that I was in there.

  Danny said he was still half asleep and didn’t even think about it, but I thought it was pretty strange. The shower was running and there was steam everywhere and the door had been closed, but he still walked in anyway.

  At first, I didn’t notice him. I’d dropped my soap and bent over to pick it up. When I heard a groan come from behind me, I’d jerked up quickly and spun around to find that Danny was staring at me with wide, dark eyes.

  The curtain was clear with blue stars painted on it. They were solid but placed so sporadically that I don’t know how much they actually covered. I’d blushed so deeply that I probably looked beet red, but he still didn’t look away and I made no effort to cover myself. For a long, tense moment we just stared at each other.

  Then, his eyes got a little wider and he said, “Shit.” He quickly turned away from me and called out an apology over his shoulder as he rushed from the room.

  After that, I always made sure to lock the door.

  When I finished with my shower, I dried off and headed back to my room to find my clothes. I’d packed something specifically for the funeral, a pretty black dress that Selene would have loved. Tossing my towel onto the bed—I made a mental note to hang it up—I grabbed my underwear and my bra. They were both black so that if I had any accidents with the dress, at least, a brightly colored bra with tiny hearts or stars on it wouldn’t show up beneath.

  Afterward, I grabbed a shirt to throw on over my clothes and went back into the bathroom to take the time to blow dry my hair. I didn’t usually bother, having enough time to let it air dry, but today I wanted to make sure I looked nice. Perfect even.

  When my hair was done, I went and slipped on my stockings, a plain pair of black that were really see through and just gave my legs a slightly darker coloring. The dress came on last. It dropped just above my knees and was a plain black material with buttons that went straight down the middle. The neck was a v-shape, but it didn’t dip too low. I had searched all over
New York to find a dress that didn’t make me look like a hooker.

  The sleeves were long though it probably wouldn’t be cold, so I wouldn’t have to worry about a jacket or anything. My makeup came last and I made sure that I wore that shirt over my dress while I was putting it on; I didn’t want makeup smears all over my black dress.

  Finally, I felt clean and finished. That was around the time that I remembered I was supposed to be making breakfast.

  “I probably should have done that first,” I muttered to myself hoping that I could manage to cook something up without getting it all over myself in the process.

  I was heading downstairs when I noticed that my dad’s door was open. I saw him sitting on the edge of the king size bed—too big for him now, I thought sadly—and paused. He was just sitting there staring off into space. He was half dressed, his black slacks and his white button down on, but his shirt was untucked and I noticed that the cuffs weren’t buttoned.

  Frowning, I walked slowly into the room.

  “Dad?”

  Dad looked up, startled by the sound of my voice. When he saw me, he cracked a smile, but it was shallow and broken. “You look beautiful, kiddo,” he told me, his voice belying his sadness. “Selene would have loved it.”

  I smiled at him. “I hope so.”

  When dad still didn’t move, I noticed the tie thrown over the back of the chair in the room and resolved to help him as best I could. I went over and picked up the tie, then took it back to him.

  “You’re pretty dressed up yourself,” I commented coming to standing in front of him. I threw the tie around his neck and began to tie it for him. My mind flashed to the first funeral I’d been to, my biological mother’s. That was the day I’d learned to tie a tie.

  Dad had been standing in front of the mirror, just staring, when I’d come in, just a little ten-year-old girl who was just old enough to grasp what was going on. My life had changed pretty dramatically that day.

  When I saw dad, his tie was hanging around his neck. He looked like he was in the process of trying to tie it but just couldn’t muster up the energy to do it. So I’d hoped up on the little stool in the room at the time that was meant for the vanity that used to be in here, and made him turn to face me.

  I tried to tie it for him.

  I had no idea what I was doing at the time but was determined to make that damn tie look perfect and beautiful on my daddy. At first, dad had tried to wave me off, telling me that it was okay, that he could do it, but I wouldn’t let him. I’d been on the verge of tears and that tie was so damn important to me, so he’d let me struggle with it.

  Finally, I’d managed some semblance of a knot, but it definitely didn’t look the way it was supposed to. But my dad didn’t fix it. He wore it through the funeral and the rest of the day, not taking it off until the next morning. We’d fallen asleep on the couch that night and he didn’t take the tie off until he changed the following day.

  It was such a stupid thing, but it had become incredibly important.

  Eventually, I actually learned the right way to tie a tie, which was how I did it today. Dad didn’t say anything, didn’t note the similarity in the circumstance or the symbolism in the tying of his tie, but I had the feeling that he felt it.

  When I’d managed to get the knot just right, I went to his cuffs. Gently lifting first his left arm, I managed to button up his wrist and then did the same for his right.

  “Let’s eat something,” I told him with a small smile and he nodded.

  I grabbed his jacket and we headed downstairs to the kitchen. I was glad that I’d cleaned up the bourbon drinking game from the night before and found myself looking away from the kitchen table when we walked in. Dad didn’t suspect anything—there wasn’t anything to suspect really—but I could barely hold back my own embarrassment.

  “Pancakes?” I asked.

  “That sounds great, kiddo,” he told me with a smile.

  I went to work on it. Although I’ve made them from scratch before, it was nice to find that there was pancake mix in the cupboards. It would make things a lot easier and easier was good today.

  Mixing in a couple of eggs and some milk, I heated up the pan and began measuring small round pancakes. “Are we driving today?” I asked as they cooked. I didn’t say it, but I wondered if dad was even up to that.

  From the counter, dad shook his head. “No. Danny’s going to pick us up.”

  I was both relieved and a little terrified of that prospect. I knew of course that he would be there and that we’d sit together, but somehow I’d given myself more time to figure out how to calm down. But relaxing was probably not in the cards today.

  “That’s good,” I commented. “Is he going to be here for breakfast?”

  “I don’t think so,” Dad admitted, thinking about it for just a second. “He’s going to stop by just before the service and we’re all going to head over then.”

  I nodded. A quick stop in and then a car ride to the cemetery. I didn’t want to think about it, how we’d be cloistered in some church as people wept and talked about Selene like they were her closest friends, whether she meant anything to them or not.

  Images of my mother’s own funeral still left me bitter and weak at the thought of doing it all over again, but I knew this was important to everyone so I remained silent.

  When I had a stack of finished pancakes, I took them over to dad and put them down on the table. I grabbed some syrup and butter two, as well as some sugar for myself. I wasn’t big on syrup, thinking it took rich and too heavy, but I loved a little butter and sugar on top of my pancakes.

  We sat and ate in silence. When we were finished—I’d barely touched my pancakes, deciding too late that I wasn’t nearly as hungry as I’d thought—I cleared the table and cleaned up the kitchen.

  “You can leave those, honey,” he told me, indicating the dishes and the light mess I’d made.

  I shook my head. “It’ll be easier to do it now, especially since everyone’s coming back here after. I’ll keep it clean now so I don’t have to clear up right after. Besides, we have a minute before Danny gets here, right?”

  “Yeah.” Dad got up and came to stand next to me. He pulled me into a tight hug and I felt the love he was sending to me through that embrace. “Thank you for being here. It means the world to me.”

  I smiled at my dad, then shoed him off into the living room until Danny got here while I worked on the kitchen. It really didn’t take long before I had everything cleaned up. A few glasses and plates needed to be washed, the pancake mix needed to be put up, and the eggs needed to be put away. That was about it. I took care of it quickly, taking the time to dry the dishes after they were washed so I could put them up, and by the time I was done, there was a knock at the door.

  When dad answered it, I heard soft voices, recognizing Danny’s immediately.

  I finished drying off my hands and headed to the front room to greet them. “Are we ready to go?” I asked.

  Danny glanced over at me quickly, sharply, and gave me a funny look. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it didn’t last long. His gaze switched back to dad, offering him a smile. “You got everything you need?”

  Dad nodded and Danny held the door open for the both of us to go through. His eyes wouldn’t meet mine as I passed him, making my frown. What was wrong? Was it about last night? Or was it just because his mother was gone and we were on the way to her funeral?

  I was willing to bet it was the latter so I said nothing.

  We piled into Danny’s little sports car. It was comfortable, despite being small, with leather seats and a fresh smell to it. Dad sat up front with Danny and I took the back seat. It was the best set up since I was the shortest of the bunch and the backseat didn’t have a lot of leg room. But it wasn’t bad. My knees were pulled up a little, but I wasn’t uncomfortable and it was only a short ride to the cemetery.

  As we arrived, I noticed more than a few other cars pulling up. Some belonged to people
I recognized, some I didn’t. There were a few kids I’d gone to high school with, though they were older and had to be Danny’s friends. None of mine were there because the only friends I’d been close to in high school had either moved away like me or we’d lost touch and weren’t really friends anymore.

  Not that it mattered today. Everyone was soft spoken and polite today.

  The service was inside the church, though there was a plot picked out already for her. I tried not to think about them putting Selene in the ground encased in oak, her body embalmed so that it would take a long time to rot away.

  Closing my eyes against the image, I tried to hold back the tears, feeling them prick at my eyes.

  I followed behind Danny, who was behind dad, walking down the aisle towards the front. I caught a glimpse of the casket, elegant and beautiful in its own right and tried not to think about Selene lying there. I noticed with horror that the casket was still open.