Pretty Toxic - A New Adult Romance (Imperfectly Yours)

by Gardner, A.

  “Fine.” I sit up. My sides ache from the sudden jolt. I have to go on pretending I don’t care about Dane or Zanna will figure it out. “I need to get my mind off all of this anyway.”

  “That’s more like it,” she chuckles.

  Chapter Nine

  “Don’t do it!”

  I’m handed a cup full of something and I’m told to drink it. Be spontaneous. I guzzle it all down, afterwards feeling like I’m about to puke. Music blasts in my eyes. It’s so loud I’m not really sure what type of music it is. Maybe it’s actually the sound of a head on collision happening in the parking lot? I’m handed another cup. I hear Zanna let out a gut-busting laugh behind me.

  “Nice dress.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, without even looking where the complement is coming from. I look up and follow the voice but it’s hard to concentrate. I adjust my dress. I borrowed it from Scarlett. It’s black with a plunging neckline and a lace back. Nothing I’d ever dare wear but stepping out of the house in it felt . . . I don’t know. It felt wrong but not in a bad way.

  “I’ve never seen you here before,” the voice says again.

  “It’s my first time.” I see him, chiseled chin and all. He’s hot and I can’t deny that the piercings on his face are intriguing.

  “Oh,” he grins. “Where you been hiding?” I smile. The blasting music is beginning to sound like fading chimes. I stare at my admirer, his face surrounded with a cloud a fuzz. I don’t feel anxious anymore.

  I feel free.

  “Honestly . . . I think I’ve been hiding for eighteen years.”

  He keeps grinning, focusing one hundred percent on me. Our eyes connect and I’m not nervous at all. It’s me and him in the room. No one else. I take another swallow of the drink in my hand. I have no idea what number this one is.

  “You have a boyfriend?”

  I laugh. Do I have a boyfriend? This thing between Dane and me, what is it? We are together but we aren’t. We speak to each other, but in secret. Is that even a relationship? Does he even love me because he’s never said it.

  “Not really,” I blurt out. I have to let him go. I have to move on or all this cutting pain in my chest will stay forever.

  “Good news for me then,” he responds. “What’s your name?”

  “Mikki.” The new Mikki, and she’s nothing like the old one.

  “Oh . . .” He wrinkles his nose and takes a sip of his drink. “Not that one I read about in the paper?”

  “What? I’m in the paper?” That’s something I’d normally obsess over, even leave the party for just to find a copy and dissect every line written about me. My head feels like it’s floating - buzzing. I don’t care. “Sweet.”

  “You’re not with that Haskell guy, are you?” His question doesn’t strike me the least bit odd.

  “Hell no!” I hear myself laughing again. This time as loud as Zanna.

  “Then what’s the deal? I read that you were the last one to see him.” He grabs a bottle of something and refills my cup. The liquid feels like it’s weighing down my hand so I drink it. All of it. It burns going down.

  “Yeah,” I giggle.

  “What did he say?” His eyes move from my face and skim down the body of my dress. He likes the way I look, and he likes me. I attempt to flick my hair like I’ve seen Paige do in Algebra class. I slip a little and he grabs my arm. “Careful babe.”

  “He said he had to go. Can I get another?” I hold up my cup.

  “Go where?” He fills it to the top again.

  “Somewhere. I have no idea.”

  “Is that all he said?” he eagerly asks.

  “Yeah.” I gulp down another cup full. “But if you ask me . . . he seemed . . . weird.” I feel my heel move and push me forward. I’m in his arms now. His touch is satisfying, though different compared to Dane’s. Forget about Dane.

  “I don’t think I understand.”

  “His dad,” I go on. “He’s the reason he left . . . he seemed kinda funny.” My legs swing out from under me. He’s holding me now. My head spins like I’m riding a carousel. My eyelids feel heavy.

  “And that’s all you remember?”

  “Uh-huh.” I close my eyes and see the two of us dancing together in the moonlight. It’s perfect and it all seems so real.

  I see Zanna. Her lips are moving but I can’t hear what she’s saying. The music in my head has gone dull. I try to open my mouth but I don’t think it’s working. No matter. I have nothing to say to her. I close my eyes again and let the silence surround me like a cocoon. I can sleep peacefully now. My mind can wander to other places that don’t involve Dane or my severed heart.

  Chapter Ten

  “He lied.”

  Shut up, Scar.

  I know she’s talking but the words reach my brain in spurts. She’s not making any sense and all I want to do is sleep. The more my eyes open the more my head pounds.

  “Mikki. Listen to me. I’m going out okay.”

  “Eh,” I mumble back. I hear her slam the front door and it echoes through my ears like a jet engine. Now that I’m awake my head hurts too much to fall back asleep. I sit up and shield my eyes from the rays of light escaping from between the blinds. What happened last night seems like a faraway memory . . . well, the parts I can remember.

  I stumble as I force myself to my feet. I’m still wearing the dress. Looking at my reflection, I can’t believe I left the house like this. I look like a total skank - a Paige Haskell wannabe. I rub my head and the feelings come rushing back. The tightness in my chest. The piercing pain in my heart. The brick in my stomach. I’m stuck in a flood, and I feel as if I might drown.

  I need water and an aspirin.

  My feet carry me to the kitchen.

  It’s a relief that Scarlett isn’t here watching me reach for the fridge handle for the tenth time. I can’t tell when I’m grabbing it. How does Zanna do this every weekend? She must have a stomach made of steel.

  My hand finally finds a glass and a pill from the medicine cabinet. I sit at the kitchen table to steady myself. Otherwise I might fall and crack my head open on the tile. The night has come and gone and I’m still at square one.

  This blows.

  I rest my hand on my forehead. My fingers fumble over a mess of papers and Scarlett’s empty coffee cup. The paper. Scar insists on reading it in print instead of online like everyone else. Why is that striking a cord?

  A face flashes in my head. He had dark hair and dark eyes. He had piercings and a studded jacket, and the way he studied my expressions made me feel like I knew him already.

  What else?

  We talked . . . about Dane. He asked about us - if there was an us.

  Ugh!

  What the hell was his name?

  I concentrate on the headline on page one. The words are starting to make a little sense. I can actually read them if I put all my brain power into it. Ouch. Ocean storms. A burglary on Main Street. But nothing about me.

  That’s what he said. The newspaper. He read about me in the newspaper. My eyes scan every page and my fingers flip through the entire thing at lightning speed. Nothing. My name isn’t anywhere and why would it be? I’m a nobody.

  He lied.

  My head pounds even more. I’m such an idiot. I need some air. My feet take me back to my bedroom where I wiggle out of my party dress. I can breathe a little easier. I need more alcohol to numb my brain or I might go mad. I grab my phone and dial up Zanna.

  “Zanna,” I blurt out. “Zanna, I’m coming over.”

  “Whoa,” she responds. “Keep your voice down, you psycho. You must have a nasty hangover this morning.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “A bit,” she chuckles. “But I wasn’t as plastered as you were. I bet you don’t remember what you said to your boy?” Her chuckles turns into a laugh. My eyes widen.

  “You remember the guy I was with?”

  “Yeah,” she replies. “Hottie.”

  “Did you catch his name?”
I bite the inside of my cheek waiting for her reply.

  “Uh . . . no. I’ve never seen him before actually.”

  “Of course,” I sigh. “Look, I’m coming over.”

  “I’ll make you my magic hangover cure.”

  “Not what I had in mind but I’ll take it.”

  My phone buzzes.

  “See you soon.” I hang up and glance at the text.

  No way.

  It’s from Dane. And it’s a single word.

  Bristlecone.

  MIKKI

  Chapter Eleven

  “I can’t breathe!”

  I can’t really explain the feeling of being jolted awake other than it feels like the entire earth is crumbling around you. My chest pounds into the springs of my bed, echoing through my entire head like a fire alarm. Something isn’t right. I hear noises coming from the next bedroom.

  Screaming.

  If my eyes open any wider they might fall out of my skull.

  My heart is beating so fast it’s rattling my brain. I’m having trouble standing up straight. I’m not sure if I even want to. Another shrill scream pierces my chest. It feels like being stabbed with an icicle. I try to focus, but focusing only makes me realize that I know that voice. I know who’s screaming. The realization manifests in my stomach. The nausea is almost unbearable.

  “Mom!”

  I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what to do. I run to my doorway and see her. She’s thrashing around like a wild animal. The men carrying her are wearing uniforms. They have straight faces. No emotion in their eyes. They watch my mom beg and plead. Their demeanor doesn’t change a bit.

  She kicks in her night gown. Her forehead is covered in sweat. I try to run to her, outstretching my hand. If only I could touch her. Maybe everything would be okay. I’m held back. The hand on my arm is like a weighted chain. I’m not allowed to go to her. I can’t go with her.

  “No! My baby! Please, my little girl!” Mom’s constant cries bring tears to my eyes. I let them come. They blur my vision so I don’t have a clear view anymore. I hope that I’ll wake up from this horrible nightmare, run to Mom’s room, and see her fast asleep under the covers. I finally wipe my tears. She’s been pulled out of the house and into the street. It’s still real.

  I clutch my stomach, about to puke.

  “Mikki.” A familiar face runs through the door. She also has tears in her eyes. “Are you okay sweetie?” My Aunt Scarlett hugs me tight as the sound of Mom’s screaming is overtaken by a revving engine. My breathing gets heavier. My whole body is tight.

  “I can’t breathe!” I yell.

  “It’s okay,” Scarlett reassures me. “It’s all going to be okay.”

  “But Mom-”

  “You’re coming to live with me.”

  More tears escape. I want to close my eyes and go to sleep. This isn’t happening.

  “You’ll like Oregon,” Aunt Scarlett continues. “And we’ll hang at the beach. It’ll all be okay.”

  My alarm goes off. It’s been a long time since I’ve had one of those dreams. The last time was before me and Dane started seeing each other. Now that he’s gone the nightmares are coming back.

  I check my cell phone. No more texts from him besides the one, and now his phone has been disconnected. I tried calling him, texting him many times but no answer. One word is the only hint I’m getting.

  Bristlecone.

  What the hell does that mean?

  “You up?” Aunt Scarlett yells down the hallway.

  “Yep.”

  Today is day one of my internship at the Banley building, the largest building in town. It's also owned by the Haskell’s. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the day having to see Dane’s dad walking around. The town is starting to talk. People seem to know now that I was one of the last people to see Dane Haskell before he disappeared. I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle the stares.

  I grab the outfit I picked out last night, knowing I would hit snooze and wake up at the last second. My nightmare kept me prisoner in dreamworld. So much in fact that I slept through my first alarm. I sweep my hair to the side. Who cares if it’s done up all perfect or tangled in my face. No one will be talking to me anyway.

  I slip into gray slacks and a boring sweater, already starting to crave the night I went out with Zanna. The temporary numbness I felt was worth the hellish hangover the next day. I have a lot to blot out. I need to forget. I stare in the mirror and wipe away the smeared mascara under my eyes. Dark circles remain. I look tired. I force a fake smile. That’ll be good enough for my new boss.

  I hate summer. Someday I guess I’ll like it but today I hate it. Zanna’s going on vacation next week. The beach is full from dawn to dusk, and I’m stuck indoors working. On top of that this is Aunt Scar’s busy season. Tons of weddings and cocktail parties to cater to. She’s already working overtime as it is . . . and she thinks she’ll easily be able to handle a store front. If that ever happens I’ll be stuck here forever.

  A pain starts building behind my eyes. Stop thinking, Mikki. My thoughts are going crazy. I need some air. I need some coffee. I need a vacation. Scarlett lightly knocks on my bedroom door.

  “Hey,” she says softly. “You almost ready? Don’t want to be late for your first day.”

  “Yeah,” I sigh. “Give me a few minutes.”

  “If you ever want to talk . . . I’m here. You know that, right?” She plants a hopeful stare on my reflection. She doesn’t understand and I don’t expect her to. I can’t tell her about Dane. She’ll be heartbroken that I’ve kept it from her for so long, not to mention furious that I’d chosen to lose my virginity to a Haskell.

  “Things have been tough,” she goes on. “I know that.”

  That’s an understatement.

  “I just want to get out of here,” I mutter.

  “Well . . . look on the bright side. This internship might open a few doors. It’s great experience.”

  “And it’s at the Banley building,” I finish. Scarlett looks down, biting the side of her cheek. Word had spread quickly that I was the last person to see Dane Haskell before he went missing.

  “I see,” she responds. My shoulders sink as I glance at the time. “Keep your chin up.” Scarlett smiles. She walks over and places her hands firmly on my shoulders.

  I wish Mom was here.

  “I’m sure everyone’s forgotten everything by now,” she adds.

  Chapter Twelve

  “It’s him.”

  Aunt Scar is wrong. My day of stares and giggles is just beginning. I walked through the front door and endured blatant glares the moment I stepped into the lobby. An Administrative Assistant named Paul showed me around the building. Lots of glass doors. Lots of desks and record rooms. Ringing phones and quiet chatter filled the floor I’d be working on. Then I was tossed in the back room with all the filing cabinets. My first assignment after making the usual coffee run would be to file the stacks of folders that clutter my desk.

  I move a little in my chair and it squeaks. The noise is loud compared to the silence around me. I pick up my first folder, already glancing at the time. I have to be here until five. This internship is full time for most of the summer. Not very good pay but I get the company name on my resume.

  “Uh, Mikki?” Paul pops his head over the cubicle wall.

  “Yes?”

  “The coffee orders,” he continues. “I’ve called them in. All you have to do is pick them up.”

  “Of course,” I nod. Anything to get out of here. I stand and brace myself for the long walk back to the lobby. The coffee shop is down the street, and Main Street is next to the beach. I’ll have a nice ocean view to gawk at on my way back. My desk is in a room with no windows.

  My back feels tense. I put a fake smile on my face, the one I practiced at home. I pass a few cubicles and attorney offices. I gulp, seeing my co workers look up as I pass. My cheeks feel hot.

  Don’t blush. Whatever you do don’t bl
ush. That’s so lame.

  I rush all the way to the elevators without looking back. I didn't think it was possible to feel claustrophobic before even getting into a small space. It is. My stomach is already hurting. The door dings and I step inside. The walls are metal. I’m surrounded by my own reflection. I can’t look at myself so instead I look down at the floor like always.

  The door dings again. Finally.

  I push through the front doors and inhale the fresh air. I can smell the ocean. I hear the waves crashing against the rocks. The sun peeks through scattered clouds and beats down on my pale skin. If only I could sit in the sand all day and listen to the ocean tide. I could spend my time acquiring a decent tan.

  If only.

  My stride is slow. I’m taking my time. This will be the only outdoor time I get today. My feet still hurt from the stilettos I wore last the weekend. I think back to those fuzzy memories. What if Dane had been there with me? Maybe he’d like me more in that tight, black dress - think I’m sexy. Maybe he’d even have the guts to tell his family about me.

  The breeze behind me is blocked. I keep walking, feeling someone behind me gaining. I slow down hoping to be passed. I don’t want to feel rushed. With my hands in my pockets the coffee shop comes into view. It’s next to Seaside Jeweler’s and Nan’s Book Shop. I sigh, taking in the smell of fresh pastries and coffee grounds.

  “Hi,” I say to the barista. “I’m supposed to pick up an order.”

  “Banley building?” she replies, raising an eyebrow. She peers over the counter looking confused. “Just you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh my,” she chuckles. “You might be making two trips here, dear.” She places a to-go tray on the counter. I can handle that.

  She reaches behind the counter and places a second tray next to the first. Okay I’ll just walk really really slow.