by K J Bell
“What are the Olsen Twins up to today?” Tug asks.
Still unable to look at him, I pinch a piece of egg in my fingers, and toss it in my mouth before filling him in. “We’re going job hunting.”
He laughs. “You two are getting a job?”
“I sort of have to.” Once I summon the courage to look at him, he blows me a kiss, and I shake my head. Little shit. “My parents are paying for school and gave me some money for necessities, but if I want to have any spending cash this summer, I have to work at least a couple of days a week.”
“What about you, Liv?”
“Mom and Dad liked the idea so much they suggested I do the same.” Tug bursts into a fit of laughter, and Liv scowls at him. I laugh, too, knowing how spoiled Liv is.
Tug and I reach for the last piece of bacon at the same time. He holds one side, and I hold the other. It’s a standoff. Oh, he wants to die. I send him a warning look. “You’d so better let go.”
The deliberate tilt of his head and his frisky smile are making me crazy. “I’ll make a deal with you, Tor. Go on a date with me and it’s all yours.”
Since I saw his ultimatum coming from a mile away, I’m prepared. “I’d rather use barbed wire for toilet paper than go out with you, Tug.”
“Too bad for you, then.” He jerks the bacon from my hand, and eats half the slice in one bite. Exaggerating his chewing, he watches me with satisfaction and moans repeatedly. “This is so freaking good, Tor. Yum-oh-yum-yeah-so-good.”
“You totally suck, Tug.”
He smirks and holds the uneaten half of the bacon slice across the island. “I’m not all that bad. You can have the other half.”
I ignore that there might be Tug spit on the part he bit off, take the bacon from him, and bite into it. What can I say? I love bacon.
Tug guzzles a glass of milk and sets the glass in the sink. “My friend Paul is having a bonfire Saturday night on the beach. It’s going to be a crazy party. You girls wanna come?”
The invite makes Liv positively giddy. “That might be fun, Tor. We should go.”
“Yeah, okay,” I agree. Anything beats hanging out here with Brady.
Liv goes upstairs to take a shower, and since Tug drank all of the coffee by himself, I decide to brew another pot. I set a filter in the basket and scoop the coffee inside. I pour in the water and flip the machine on. As I watch it brew, I stare at the glowing red numbers on the built-in clock.
Reality bites me when I notice “12:37” flashing. It’s not the correct time, but it’s the exact same time Brady left me last night. I remember looking at the dash, reading “12:37” in neon green numbers right when Brady slammed the door. I can’t comprehend why I’m thinking about him at all. And I hate myself for it. I’m toxic, like fucking poison, nothing instant, though – I’m something slow and painful. His words replay in my mind, and my heart suddenly aches for him. Something happened to Brady over the last year, something to break him. I tell myself not to think about it. Whatever it is, it’s none of my business.
While I reach into the cabinet for a coffee mug, I notice Tug out of the corner of my eye. He’s standing at the island, gawking at me.
Without looking at him, I say, “Take a picture, Tug.”
“Are you okay?”
The concern in his voice surprises me, and I look over at him. “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
He walks up, and stands next to me, his expression gives nothing away. “Could it be because you were having one hell of an argument with the coffee pot?”
I’m instantly red as embarrassment creeps up my neck. “I was not!”
“Okay, so you weren’t talking, but you were making all these crazy faces and your hands were flying around.” He imitates me by flailing his arms in front of him.
I punch him in the arm. “You’re such a shit, Tug.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who needs a straitjacket.” He dodges me when I start to smack him again. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Seriously, though, what’s got you so upset?”
I can’t tell him it’s a who, not a what. And I definitely can’t tell him it’s Brady that’s responsible for my crazy behavior. “It’s nothing. Sometimes I get a little expressive when I think.”
“Okay, nutty buddy, if you say so.”
“What-ev-er.” I roll my eyes and take a sip of my coffee. The second it hits my tongue, I realize I’ve forgotten the cream and sugar and immediately spit it out in the sink. God, how do people drink it black?
Tug laughs and starts to leave, then turns and leans against the doorjamb. His smile is sweet and sincere, and I smile back. “Hey, you know I’m only kidding, right?” I nod. “If you ever need to talk…well, you know I’m here for you, cuckoo.”
I chuck a piece of toast at him.
Brady
“All the liquor in your house, and you don’t have anything for a headache?”
“Of course I do.” Jesse pulls a beer from the fridge and twists the top off. “Hair of the dog.” Jesse guzzles on the bottle before offering it to me.
I shake my head and fill a glass with water from the fridge. “You do know what time it is, right?” I ask.
Jesse shrugs. “I’d say it’s noon somewhere, but truthfully, I don’t give a shit.” He picks up the bottle of beer and takes another swig.
Why are we friends again?
My hand covers one eye as my head continues to pound through the socket. “I’m gonna head home and get some pills and a shower.”
“You can shower here if you want,” he offers.
I groan at the thought. It’s bad enough I have to use his toilet to take a leak. “Not until you get a maid. Your shower is in dire need of some bleach.”
“You’re such a chick, man. It’s not that bad.”
I look up at him with a disgusted face. It’s more than that bad. “I can write my name in the scum on the walls.”
His lips leave the bottle, and he holds it in the air in a toast. “Like I said, total chick.”
“Whatever. I’m going home to shower in a sterile environment, and then I’m thinking of taking the skis out today. You game?”
“Hell, yeah!” He cheers loudly. Extremely loudly. I grimace and turn to leave.
“I’ll be back to pick you up at one.”
“Later, man.”
Once I walk out of his front door, sunlight hits my eyes and I squeeze them shut. I silently remind myself not to drink quite so much.
On my drive home, I think about what Jesse said last night. The reason I came home is to tell Tori how I feel about her, but I’m not prepared to do it. Maybe I’m getting closer, though. After last night, I owe her an apology at the very least. It hit me when I remembered how awful Jake treated her and how much it still affects her. I hadn’t treated her any better, and I hate myself for it. She may smack me again and tell me to stay away from her, but it’s worth a shot. The fiery-tempered girl is who she became after Jake, and as sick as it is for me to think, it makes her even more appealing.
Chapter 7
Tori
Nothing smells better than a coffee shop. Well, except, maybe a book store. The Ocean Bean serves a scrumptious mocha. It’s the perfect place to start our job search, because if they aren’t hiring, at least I can get my fix. The inside is modern and funky, with red walls and mismatched vintage lighting fixtures. There’s a small velvet couch against the side wall and small chrome tables throughout. It’s not busy at the moment, and I assume it’s because the morning coffee rush is over.
A guy we went to school with comes through a back door, carrying a box of Splenda packets in his hands. He was a grade ahead of us in school, and of course, I can’t remember his goddamn name. His head lifts, and his expression suggests his own recollection of names comes quite easily. He sets the box on the counter, and wipes his hands on his apron. “Hi, Tori, Liv, how are you?”
Why am I so goddamn bad with names?
“Hey, Harrison. What’s up?” Liv’s friendly voice
saves me. Harrison, that’s it.
Harrison’s tall, his light-brown hair streaked with sun-bleached highlights from living at the beach. His eyes are a light brown, like coffee with just a hint of cream. I smile at the thought, since we’re standing in a coffee shop.
“What can I get you guys?” His dimples dig into his cheeks, and I surprise myself by thinking he’s pretty damned cute. How did I miss that about him back in school? Jake the cheating ass ex-boyfriend is how. It doesn’t matter what I notice about Harrison. After Jake and Brady, I’ve sworn off guys forever.
“We’re not here for coffee.” Liv smiles. She thinks he’s pretty cute, too.
“Speak for yourself! I’ll take a mocha.” I giggle. What in God’s name? I just giggled.
“A mocha it is, Tor.” He smiles sweetly.
A strange little prickly sensation creeps up my neck. I ignore it. Harrison slides back behind the bar, and begins making my mocha. “One shot or two?” he asks.
“Two, of course.” I giggle. Crap! I did it again. I’m not a giggler. I don’t even like gigglers, well, except for Liv, of course. My fingers toy nervously with the hem of my tank top as I watch Harrison. I can’t remember the last time I felt so nervous around a guy, other than Brady of course, but he’s in another league altogether.
Liv pushes in front of me and leans over the counter to speak with Harrison. “Do you know if you’re hiring?”
“We are. We had two openings for the summer. We filled one of them last week, only the girl we hired stopped showing up after day two. I think the crazed caffeine junkies were too much for her to handle.” He laughs. Oh, cute and a sense of humor. And you don’t date, remember? The hissing of the espresso machine doesn’t allow Liv to continue. Harrison pours both shots into a cup of milk and cocoa and stirs. Once he puts the lid on, he slides the cup across the counter to me. “Here you go, Tor.”
“Thanks. How much do I owe you?” I dig through the clutter in my oversized purse for my wallet, finding everything but.
He waves a hand in front of him, his smile flirtatious, and he winks at me again. “This one is on the house.”
Taking the cup, I can’t believe what happens. I blush. “Thanks,” I mutter, looking down so he doesn’t notice. I touch my cheeks, the heat emanating from them as warm as my coffee.
Liv rolls her eyes. “Now that the princess has her mocha, who do we talk to about a job?”
“Wait one sec. I’ll get Ted. He’s the manager.” Harrison walks through the door he came out of earlier. My eyes find the ties of his apron, following them to his butt. Oh, my God. What am I doing?
Liv bumps me with her hip. “Tori and Harrison sittin’ in a tree.”
I elbow her. “Don’t sing.”
“Youuu thiiink heeee’s cuuuute.”
Seriously, how old is she? I cover her mouth with my hand, and whisper/shout, “Shut up, Liv, before he hears you.” I release her mouth.
Her eyes dance with excitement. “Holy shit! You didn’t deny it.”
Rolling my eyes, I bite my tongue before I let her have it.
Harrison comes back with a very large man I assume is Ted. He has to be at least six- five, towering over Liv and me. He’s probably in his forties, with long blond dreads. Wearing board shorts with a flannel shirt, he looks like a typical beach bum.
His beady eyes grow wide. “You girls looking for a job?” His voice is hoarse, sounding like he drinks whiskey and smokes a pack a day, and has for many years.
Liv answers for the both of us. “Yep.”
“Can you start tomorrow?” he asks.
Again, Liv speaks for both of us. “Um…sure. I guess.”
“Fan. Freakin’. Tastic. Ladies! You.” He points a stubby finger at me, and I flinch. “Be here at eight. And you,” he adds, nodding at Liv, “be here at three.”
I’m skeptical about Ted’s hiring tactics. “That’s it? No interview or anything?”
He narrows one eye, and his head bobbles like one of those dashboard dolls. “Do you know how to make coffee?”
Make it. Dream it. Drink it. Coffee is my life. “Yes.”
“You’re hired. See you tomorrow.” He totters off laughing, and slips behind the door he came out of.
I wait until Ted is out of earshot to voice my opinion. “Okay, that was random.”
Harrison chuckles. “Don’t mind Ted. He’s a little gruff, but he’s easy to work for. We’ve been short-staffed since the summer began. He’s been stuck working round the clock. I think you two were an answer to his prayers.”
Liv looks thrilled to have the task of job hunting completed. “Well, I’m not complaining any. Now we have the whole day to hang out.”
“I’m not complaining, Liv. It just seems like there should be more to it than this.” I don’t know why I’m complicating this. Pacific Beach is one of the most laid-back places on the planet to live. Why would getting a job in P.B. be any different?
Harrison’s watching me and the little tingle from earlier makes another appearance. My cheeks turn hot, and I bite my lip. Christ…not again. “I’ll be here at eight when you get here, Tori. So I’ll help you out. It’s a piece of cake.”
I look at the door, and keep my head down, muttering, “Thanks, Harrison.” I loop my arm in Liv’s, and start yanking her toward the door. I may have pulled a little too hard, because she stumbles forward, nearly knocking both of us over.
“Thanks, Harrison. See you later.” Liv waves to him over her shoulder.
“See you girls tomorrow. Have fun this afternoon.”
Once we’re in Liv’s car, she watches me, but I don’t turn to her. She starts the car and backs out of the spot. I know she’s dying to start the “please go out with him” speech.
Liv has her elbow propped against her side window and is twirling a lock of hair around her fingers. Oh, yeah, it’s killing her. Surprisingly, Liv makes it several minutes before she speaks. “So, Harrison’s pretty cute, huh?” Oh, she’s trying to play it casual.
“He’s all right. I didn’t notice.” I act just as nonchalant, hoping to make the nosy little pest squirm.
She slaps the wheel, laughing. “You’re so full of shit, Tor. He’s totally hot, and he’s totally into you.”
“He is not.”
“He is, and you’re into him, too.”
“I am not!” I feign offense, but my face breaks out in a smile.
She shakes her head and turns on the radio. Commercials are on, so she keeps the volume low. It’s a commercial about erectile dysfunction. Liv and I laugh during the part about seeking immediate medical attention for an erection lasting longer than four hours. Right, if a guy has a hard-on for that long he’s celebrating, not driving to the E.R.
When she stops laughing, I’m reminded she’s still riding me about Harrison. “You suck at denial. You blushed more than once, and you were giggling. You never giggle.”
I laugh. “Right? I can’t believe I did that. It doesn’t matter if I think he’s cute. I’m done with guys, remember?” Why is this not sinking into her thick head? I’ve only told her about a thousand times during the last year.
She sighs heavily, like my unwillingness to date is tragic. Maybe it is a little. “So…what, are you going to date girls now?”
She didn’t mean to open the door, but since she did, I can’t resist the chance to mess with her. “I think not! They’re even worse. No, I think I’ll just live alone with a cute little dog and borrow your husband if I need anything done around my house.”
“It’s time to get over him,” she says. How many times is that today? I’ve lost count.
“It’s hard. Jake’s the only guy I’ve ever been with. I don’t even know where to start with someone else.”
“You just go with it. It’s exciting being with someone new and getting to know them.” Liv should know – she has “someone new” as often as she buys shoes. And she has a closet full of shoes.
“I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves.
It’s not like Harrison asked me out. That was all very mild flirting.”
“He’ll ask you out,” she says confidently.
I shrug.
I try to ignore her by fiddling with the contents of my purse. I find some Chapstick, pull the lid off and offer Liv some. She shakes her head. I apply some to my lips, replace the cap, and toss the tube back in my purse. Each time she turns her head to look at me, I shift and glance out the passenger window. She finally sighs. “Promise me, Tor. If he asks you out, say yes.”
I cave because it’s easier than arguing. “Fine… If…he asks, I’ll say yes.”
Her squealing’s so loud it hurts my ears.
Brady
I’m mildly disappointed Tori’s not home. As I rub the side of my cheek, I realize it’s probably safer for me that she’s not.
To say I’m dragging is an understatement, and since I consumed an unsafe amount of alcohol last night, I go into the house to find something for my headache and to drink a large amount of water and caffeine.
Tug is in the kitchen, drinking milk from the jug. By the time Tug was born, my parents had already spent their efforts to teach manners to Liv and me. Then again, Tug, is just Tug.
“Remind me not to drink milk while I’m here.”
Tug laughs, twisting the lid on the container and sliding it back into the fridge. “You look beat, bro.”
Self-inflicted. My heart beaten to a bloody pulp because I’m an asshole. “My head is killing me. Mom have anything around here for a headache?”
Tug wipes his milk mustache from his top lip on the back of his hand and opens one of the slim cabinets behind him. He grabs a bottle of acetaminophen and tosses it to me.
“Thanks.” After I get a bottle of water from the fridge, I sit in a chair at the table, toss back two pills, and guzzle the water until it’s gone.
Tug pulls out a chair, then flips it around and sits, resting his forearms on the backrest. “Girl trouble?”
