by C. A. Harms
“Let’s just say that when he walks out, have a camera ready to capture the moment.” I didn't tell him more as I moved around him and left him to wonder.
Once inside my room, I opened up the locker I had had my mom get me when they replaced the ones in the school where she works. It was the best place to keep all my shit safe and out of the hands of the guys. Once I added in my basket, I locked the padlock and tucked my keys into the pocket of my jeans I’d planned to wear.
It was the price you paid for living with a bunch of assholes that got off on making each others’ lives hell. It was all in good fun and mostly harmless. Besides the few times we’d had to live down the humiliation of long lasting effects. Parts of our bodies that generally shouldn't have been shaved, stained skin, and other shit that wasn’t so pleasant.
I quickly got dressed and moved downstairs as I sat in the living room, waiting for the sounds of Corbin to echo throughout the house. I knew they were coming.
“Dude, I saw the pretty blonde you were with last week.” Brent entered the living room and sat down on the arm of the chair. “She is a looker, man, you know she works at the Sub Shop.”
I think every guy in the house had congratulated me on Morgan. I wasn’t one to discuss my times with girls, but they all saw me leave with her. They also saw me come home the next day with claw marks on my back and a few love bites on my neck and shoulder. I didn’t give them anything they’d hoped for, but I didn’t deny it when they said I’d had a wild night.
“She was damn feisty when I mentioned my boy took her home,” Brent added and I shot him a look of annoyance. “She said that she took you home, not the other way around.” It was then I smiled, because Morgan apparently liked being the one to have control. I would have to remember that.
“Where is that asshole?” I heard Corbin’s angry voice and the sounds of his feet from above. “Xavier, I’m gonna kick your ass.”
In this house nothing was a surprise. We all knew each day would be a new adventure of some sort. So when Corbin came barreling down the stairs looking like the lost fucking smurf, everyone burst out laughing.
“You,” he said, pointing at me, his nostrils flaring. “What the fuck did you put in my shit?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I shrugged as I looked around at the guys.
A few feet behind Corbin, Red held out his phone, videoing the entire thing.
“Bullshit,” he huffed. “Blue, man, seriously? How the fuck am I supposed to get this shit off? Candy is coming over in less than an hour.”
“Maybe she’ll think you’re a lollypop and lick you,” one of the guys hollered out.
“Her name is Candy, right? Tell her you taste like blueberries,” a second one stated.
“Tell her your balls are so blue that it’s now moving through the rest of your body.” Isaac stood next to Red, leaning against the wall wearing a wide grin. “Who knows, man? She may buy it.”
Corbin looked like he was about to lose his shit. His nostrils flared and his chest heaved. “I’m gonna get you back for this,” he declared as he lifted his phone and began dialing. As he climbed the stairs we could hear his conversation. “Ma, how do you get food coloring off your skin?”
Laughter broke free just as Clayton entered through the front door. “What’d I miss?” he asked, looking around at all of us who were still gathered in a circle.
“You are your twin are no longer identical,” Jay said as he lifted the controller and began flipping through the television. “He decided to channel his inner smurf.”
Clayton looked confused and the rest of us only laughed harder.
It was just another typical day at the house.
I hadn’t forgotten about Brent’s earlier comment. I would tuck that information away to use for another day. I was suddenly craving a sub sandwich with the works served by a blonde with the sexiest green eyes I’d ever looked into.
Chapter 16
Morgan
“I think it’s shot, kid,” my father said from under the hood of my car. “The head gasket is leaking oil, not to mention your radiator is near death.” None of these things sounded good, or cheap to fix. Which meant my car was done for.
“I think it’s time to look for a new car,” he added as he peeked around the side of the hood. “I can help,” I cut him off before he got the chance to complete his offer.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s fine. The bus will take me anywhere I need to go and Marcus said he’d help as much as he can. A bus pass is cheaper than the maintenance on a car.” I tried to make the best of it but on the inside I was groaning in irritation. Public transport was the worst. I always got stuck next to the guy with the worst body odor or the woman who had on enough perfume to gag you. It was my luck; I had never gotten on a bus and left it without feeling horribly nauseated and like I was in desperate need of a shower.
“We could find ya something cheap,” he tried again. “I could get in touch with your Uncle Rich, see if he can get us something halfway decent out of the heap and we could use it as a down payment.”
“Dad, really, it’s fine.” It wasn’t fine. I dreaded the measures I would have to take to get from point A to point B daily. I also refused to put even more stress on my family. I couldn't afford a car payment, not with what I made. All my funds went toward school and rent. I already paid way less than Marcus, and felt horrible for it. He took care of me, and each night I went to bed with a perpetual knot in my stomach for it.
“Who knows? All those hours on the public bus could give me great material if I ever decided to write a book later,” I said with a smile.
“What? A horror novel?” He smiled in return.
“Or comedy.” I shrugged, pushing off the fender as I turned toward the house. “Come on, ol’ man, Mom left our lunch on warm in the oven and I’m starving. There is no use wasting any more time. Wilbur gave it a good run but it’s time to give ’im a proper burial.”
“Wilbur?” he said with a chuckle.
“Yeah, it was all I could think of. It sounds like a hard working man ready to retire.” I offered in explanation, smiling back at my dad.
“What about Edmond? Ed? Does that sound like an old man ready to kick up his feet and hang up his hat?” I heard the hood of my car shut just as I reached the steps of my small childhood home. It might be tiny, but it was full of more love than most large homes.
“Edmond sounds like a man with a huge heart,” I said as I spun around to face him. I watched as he walked toward me, and I noticed how tired he looked. I wished more than anything that I could help both my parents more. They deserved a break, a vacation, something. “Ed is the name of the best man I know,” I told him just as he stepped up to my side. “He’s my hero.”
It wasn't a lie. My father was and is the best man I have ever known. He would do anything for his family and he had. He worked long hours, only to come home with a smile on his face, showing us nothing but love. Even on the nights he was so exhausted and could barely keep his eyes open, he still found time for Toby and for my mom. He had a heart of gold.
“You do know you’re my favorite daughter.” He placed his arm over my shoulder and hugged me close. I laughed and poked his side at his joking comment. I was his only daughter, but he said this often. “Really, kid, you’re amazing, and I’m proud of you.”
I teared up as I always did when he said things like that. My father’s pride was all I could hope for. He loved so deeply and the way he took care of us all, even when he’d reached his limits, well, it was inspiring. Because even though there wasn't much else he could do, he still made the worst possible situation feel like it would be okay.
“I’m proud of you too,” I said.
***
I was lying on the couch, curled up under a blanket when Marcus entered carrying a pizza box. “Dinner has arrived,” he said in a happy, enthusiastic voice. “I got your favorite.”
“Extra mushrooms and black olives?�
� I asked, still watching the Lifetime show on TV.
“Yep.” He lifted my feet and sat down on the end of the couch, before setting my feet in his lap. “Pete says ‘Hi’ and that he added extra sauce for you too.”
I rolled my eyes at the mention of Pete.
“That guy has it bad for you,” Marcus taunted.
“Pete has it bad for every blonde who enters Porter’s Pizza.” It was true; I thought I’d seen him practically salivating on multiple occasions as he scanned over the restaurant, taking in every single blonde in sight.
“Well darlin’, if those innocent looks of yours get us free pizza, I am willing to use it to our advantage as often as I can.” Marcus began to rub my feet. “I told him you’d stop by and see him soon.”
I gawked at him, making him chuckle.
“What?” he said with a shrug. “I had to give the poor dude something, and he isn’t interested in me personally, so I offered you instead.”
“Way to pimp me out.” I turned back toward the television. “If only that man knew how much of a bitch I can truly be.”
“Nope,” Marcus said, “I’m sure it wouldn’t make a bit of difference. He reminds me of the submissive type.”
“Oh my god,” I groaned, taking that as my cue to get up and move. “I don't want to even begin to imagine that man in any type of intimate situation.”
“What about Xavier?” Marcus asked from behind and I was instantly glad he couldn’t see my expression.
The name alone still gave me chills. But after his friend came into the Sub Shop and commented on our night together, my expression might have been mixed with a little irritation too.
“Only you don’t have to imagine what he’s like in an intimate encounter, you know.” Marcus rounded the counter just as I placed two plates next to the box of pizza. “The sounds that poured from your room that night I’ll admit were erotic.” I looked up just in time to see him shiver with delight. “To have been a fly on the wall.” A large smile spread out over his lips.
“Okay weirdo,” I said, thrusting a plate of food at him, “enough fantasizing.”
He smiled wide, taking the plate from me before offering a wink.
“Just think you should have taken him up on a repeat performance.” He shrugged, turning around and walking toward the table.
Marcus kept things interesting.
“What—so he could go back and tell his fraternity brothers about the easy girl he banged the night before?” The words left my mouth before I even took the time to think them over. It was a downfall of mine. I think they call it foot-in-mouth syndrome. Or maybe it’s can’t-shut-the-fuck-up syndrome, I’m not sure which.
“He didn’t.” The fun Marcus from moments ago disappeared and in his place was one who didn’t look too pleased. “Let me rephrase that, he better not have.”
When I didn’t answer right away, Marcus leaned in and narrowed his eyes as I sat down across from him.
“Who told you this?” he asked.
Marcus is an amazing friend. He brings out the best in me, that side I rarely let others see. I didn’t have to pretend with him.
“It wasn’t so much him, but one of his brothers came into the Sub Shop the other day and made a comment about me being the girl he took home. You could just see it on his face,” I said, picking at my food. “I’m more than sure he got every detail Xavier could offer and he probably made up the rest. Considering he couldn't remember much.”
“I’m sorry, babe,” Marcus said, reaching out to take my hand in his. “I pushed you on the guy.”
“No, I did that all on my own,” I corrected him. “It was fun, I won't deny that. But it’s over and now I want to move on.”
I pulled back my hand and lifted my pizza to my mouth, taking a bite fit for a guy. I was a mess, but again I didn't care. Marcus didn’t judge me and he sure as hell didn’t expect me to eat nothing but salad. I could eat more than him on any given day and most of the time I did.
The rest of our conversation revolved around the death of my car and the plan to get me back and forth from school to work.
“I don’t like you riding that shitty ass bus,” he said as we stood side by side washing the dishes. “I think you should let your dad help you get a car.”
“Leave it alone,” I told him.
My parents were already behind on their mortgage as it was. He couldn’t afford to add me on top of it all. I had this. I may not like it, but it was a sacrifice I’d make to secure my family.
Chapter 17
Xavier
“What can I get for you?” the perky redhead asked from the opposite side of the counter. I was too busy looking for Morgan to even consider the menu.
“Is Morgan working?” I asked and the girl’s smile faltered.
“She comes in at four,” she said, still staring back at me with curiosity. “Are you a friend?”
I lifted my phone to check the time and was disappointed to see it was just a little after two.
“Did you need me to make you something?” the girl asked when I didn't answer her earlier question.
“Yeah,” I replied, tucking my phone back in my pocket. “I’ll take a number four.”
I stood quietly while she made my sandwich and wrapped it up. “Anything else?”
“That’s good,” I told her as I moved toward the cash register.
After paying for my food, I moved toward the far corner and found a small booth. I wasn't really hungry, but I couldn't just sit here without ordering something.
I spent the next hour working on a paper I had due next week. My phone buzzed on the table next to me, and as I opened the message, I did my best to hide my laughter. A picture of Red, holding Isaac in a bear hug. But the funny part was the makeup Red wore. It would appear that Isaac had gotten his revenge on Red, finally.
“What are you doing here?”
I looked up to see none other than Morgan standing next to my table. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she didn’t seem pleased to see me.
“Eating a sub,” I offered, holding up the sandwich still wrapped in the paper. “What are you doing here?” I said in return, acting surprised.
“Don’t play dumb, it doesn't look good on you.” She lowered her hands. “Cora already told me you were looking for me. You’ve been here for over an hour already and you haven’t touched your food.”
“Sit down.” I motioned toward the opposite side of the booth. “I remember you being much more friendly the last time we met.”
“Well, considering you couldn’t even remember where you left your shoe, I’d say your memory isn’t the greatest. I could have been a raging bitch then too, and you wouldn’t have known any different.” She arched her eyebrow, daring me to argue.
“That may have been true at first, but I can assure you things have come back to me slowly. Memories and visions, words spoken; it’s all right here,” I said, tapping on the side of my head with my fingertip.
She didn’t look convinced.
I leaned in a little closer, assuring that those around us wouldn’t hear what I was about to tell her. “You have this birth mark, on the inside of your left thigh,” I whispered. “It looks like a diamond almost. I remember it very explicitly. I remember it because I spent quite some time between those thighs, kissing and tasting.”
She swallowed hard, yet didn’t take her eyes from mine. They narrowed slightly, her lips pressed together as she tried her best to appear unaffected by my words.
It was her turn to lean in, but I didn’t retreat. I quite enjoyed our closeness.
“Are these the same stories you shared with your friends when you got home the next day?” she asked, her question surprising me. “Did you give them details about the easy girl you spent the night with? Did you tell them how I begged for more, how I couldn’t get enough?”
“I didn’t tell them anything.” I was a bit thrown off by the direction this conversation had taken.
“It was one night, a
night that was completely out of character for me. But I did it and that moment has passed.” Morgan stood tall once more. “I gave you stories to share when you all sit around and talk about the easy girls you hooked up with at parties. I told you that next morning that it wouldn't happen again and I meant it.”
She started to turn away and I reached out instinctively to grab her forearm. Her eyes settled on the place my hand was and her nostrils flared. Standing from the booth, I stepped in closer and released her arm. “I don’t know why you seem so angry, but I can assure you that I haven’t shared any details about our night with the guys. The only reason they knew I left with anyone is because they saw us walk out together. The claw marks on my back and the hickeys on my neck were the only proof they had the next day.”
She looked up at me, still looking as if she didn’t quite believe me.
“I didn’t share anything with anyone. That night is ours,” I stated. “I came here today looking for you because since that night I can’t think of much else. I know you said you didn’t have time for dating, but I just wanted you to know that I’d be willing to take whatever I could get.”
I leaned back toward the table and grabbed my book and notebook, leaving the sandwich behind. As I turned back to face her, she still watched me close.
I wasn’t sure if it was the right move, but I didn’t let my racing heart stop me. I leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’m not that guy, Morgan,” I whispered. “I’m not an asshole.”
I didn’t wait for her response before slipping past her and walking out the door.
Stepping out onto the sidewalk, I finally took in a deep breath. My head was spinning and my heart still felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest.
Things were always easy with Britney, even when we first started dating. I asked after she threw out all the signals. She was interested, it was obvious. After that things went smooth for us, for the most part anyway. Now looking back, I’ve realized she was clingy and jealous, controlling and possessive. But I’d never had to work for much.
