Dirty Prince

by Sky Corgan

  “I think you're worrying for nothing. Eric's not like that.”

  “All men are like that. And you don't know him as well as I do, no offense.”

  But Mandy was offended. I could see it in her eyes. “I suppose I don't. After all, I've never lived with him before.” There was a hint of jealousy in her tone, and I suddenly felt guilty. Here I was bitching and moaning about getting hit on by two men she found attractive. Mandy would have jumped at the chance to be with either one of them. She rarely got hit on at all, and when she did, it was never by someone she was actually interested in.

  I decided to shift the conversation to avoid further unpleasantries. For the rest of the meal, we talked about Mandy''s job and graduation, which was quickly approaching. It scared her to think she'd soon be leaving the bowling alley to venture out for better employment opportunities, but I assured her it was long overdue. Mandy was absolutely brilliant. I still couldn't understand why she had stayed with the bowling alley for so long.

  When the meal was over, I was forced to return home, if that's what it was. Every mile closer to Eric's apartment filled me with dread. He had been getting bold lately, blatantly eying me and touching me more than normal. I had decided to take the same approach with him as I had with Jack Kemble, exposing as little skin as possible when we were together. Those baggy pajamas I had bought for business trips still came in handy, though unlike with Jack, they did little to deter Eric.

  One afternoon, he came home from work beaming a smile brighter than the sun. I had just spent another unenthusiastic day planted on the couch watching reality television. Almost as soon as Eric walked through the door, he was sweeping me off my feet and twirling me around the room.

  “Good lord, man, put me down.” I clung to his shoulders in fear. “What the hell?”

  “I got a promotion.” He jumped up and down, making my teeth chatter in my head.

  “Congrats,” I said, not knowing what else to say. This wasn't Eric's first promotion at the tech company he worked for. In fact, it seemed like he was getting one every few months.

  “We'll get to move into a house soon with the money I'll be making.”

  While I was happy for him, it did little to lift my spirits. I was just along for the ride, much like I had been with Mandy before I had gotten the Syngex job. Whatever he decided to do, I had no choice but to follow.

  “I'm glad you got promoted. Now can you put me down?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Eric set me down. “We have to celebrate tonight. This is big, big, big. My pay increase is ridiculous. I still can't believe it happened.”

  “Calm down, stud,” I joked. “You deserve the success.”

  “You really think so?” There was a hopeful look in his eyes, as if he might be expecting a different sort of celebration. Maybe calling Eric a stud was the wrong choice of words. He didn't seem to pick up on the playfulness behind it.

  “Y-yeah,” I replied hesitantly, though my smile stayed in place.

  “Go get ready. We're going out.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked as I watched Eric jog to the bedroom. His enthusiasm was contagious, and I couldn't help but grin.

  “Let's go to Rudy's. Call up everyone you know. I'm buying rounds for everyone.” He disappeared into his bedroom, presumably to change out of his daily business attire and into something more casual.

  “I only know Mandy,” I muttered before going to pick up my phone and punch in her number. By the grace of God, she miraculously didn't have to work that night, though she did have an early class the next morning. With a little begging, I was thankfully able to convince her to come.

  Eric and I carpooled as normal. It didn't make sense to take two cars when we were going to the same place. We drove in his white Bentley, a lavish graduation present he had received from his parents after college. I couldn't image what it must be like to be born into wealth, or to have parents who loved you enough to buy a car for you for graduation, for that matter.

  Mandy was already waiting for us at the bar along with some of Eric's friends. I gave her a gentle hug before we lined the bar and spilled over into a few booths. For most of the night, Eric chatted with his friends, ignoring me completely, but as people began dropping like flies due to whatever other engagements they had, we eventually consolidated down to a single booth with me, Mandy, Eric, and a friend of his. Said friend just happened to be a beautiful brunette, and I was thankful that he seemed more interested in her than me. The alcohol had definitely taken a hold of Eric. I could see his hand moving at his side, likely rubbing the girl's leg. While she seemed comfortable enough, every once in a while she'd jump and slap at him, telling him to behave.

  Finally, the girl left. Eric walked her to her car, giving Mandy and I some time alone together.

  “See, he's more interested in her than you. You have nothing to worry about,” she told me.

  “Eric is interested in anything with boobs when he's had enough to drink,” I replied casually.

  She scowled, probably thinking about how he didn't seem interested in her. “That girl was pretty.”

  “Yeah. Hopefully, they'll get something going on together.” Not that it would stop Eric from hitting on me. The last time he had a girlfriend, he still flirted non-stop. Commitment wasn't one of his strong points.

  “You should start looking for a boyfriend too. Have you thought about it?”

  “It's hard to find a boyfriend when you don't go out. Besides, what do I really have to offer? I have no job. I don't have my own place.”

  “Guys don't care about that.” Mandy grinned.

  “Some do.”

  “Jack Kemble didn't.”

  “Isn't that a four-letter word?" Eric appeared around the corner and slid back into the booth.

  “Jack Kemble is a nice man,” she said defensively.

  “How would you know?”

  “Because I met him. He came over looking for Jen a few weeks ago.”

  “I bet you felt graced by his royal presence,” he huffed, taking a drink of the half-full beer that his friend had left behind. Her lipstick rubbed off onto Eric's lips, but I didn't bother to say anything about it. Mandy, on the other hand, was more courteous, gesturing that he should wipe his mouth, which he did. “Thanks.”

  “It was like having a movie star in my apartment,” she confessed. “He's so handsome.”

  “Pfft. Pampered bitches like that usually are. They get their hair and makeup done like women. Jen needs a real man.”

  “He wasn't any different than you,” I said, my tone dipping a bit.

  “Of course he is. I work for everything I have. He just sits atop his high tower and has it handed to him. Plus, I don't have women throwing themselves at my feet. Lucky bastard gets to bang a different girl every day of the week.”

  “He wasn't banging anyone when I quit,” I told them.

  “That's because he was holding out for you,” Mandy insisted.

  “Not likely.”

  “You should call him.”

  “Are you nuts?!”

  “No, I'm drunk,” she confessed with a titter. “Here, let me have your phone. I'll call him.” Mandy reached across the table, but I made no attempt to move, clutching my phone tightly in hand.

  “I don't have his number anymore,” I lied.

  “Well you suck. Who would throw away Jack Kemble's phone number?”

  “Someone who doesn't want anything to do with the rich piece of shit anymore.” Eric sounded jealous.

  “He wasn't that bad,” I said.

  “You sure made him sound bad.”

  I had, hadn't I? Evil Jack Kemble, who helping me fix my flat tire, who gave me a job when no one else would, who bought me an entire new wardrobe because I was too poor to afford even a few outfits, who took me to business trips, allowing me to see and experience the world as I never had before, and who was sweet enough to try to romance me when nothing else seemed to work to get my attention. What had I done? This man had given me m
ore chances and opportunities than anyone, and I had been a complete selfish brat and thrown it all away because the one thing he wanted from me I didn't want to give without having more attached to it. Where else would I get the opportunities I had been given with Syngex? No where. That's where.

  “Fuck,” I whispered under my breath, my good mood taking a nosedive like a lemming off a cliff. The bottom of the bottle was calling me again, and I was falling, falling oh so hard.

  “That's all over. You have me now. You don't need that jerk.” Eric nudged my leg under the table.

  “Well guys, I need to get going. I stayed out way later than I had planned,” Mandy said, scooting out of the booth.

  “Aw. Don't go,” I begged, not wanting to be left alone with Eric.

  “Sorry. I have to.”

  My eyes followed her out the door, wishing my body was as well.

  “It's getting late. We should call it a night,” I told Eric, giving him a hopeful look.

  “Bah. Don't tell me you're tired already. It's Friday night. Everyone else may have had their excuses, but I know you have no good reason not to stay and drink with me.” Unfortunately, he was right. Living with Eric made it impossible to lie to him. I had no choice but to stay. “I really don't understand what's so great about that Jack Kemble guy,” he commented, still stewing over it.

  “Let's not talk about it anymore, okay?”

  “Yeah. It's a four-letter word, after all,” Eric agreed.

  “I need to go to the bathroom.” I realized.

  “I'm not stopping you.” He threw up his hands. “But before you go, what do you want to drink?”

  “I'll take a bloody mary,” I replied as I slid out of the booth, thinking of the bloody mary that Jack had made me in his mansion. My mind was back obsessing over him again, and the fact that there was a line to the bathroom didn't make it any better. What was he doing right now, I wondered? Was he at a party? Maybe sleeping with some other girl? The thought was painful.

  Absentmindedly, I scrolled down the list of contacts in my phone. Jack Kemble Cell Phone. No, I definitely hadn't deleted it. But why had I kept it? This was one memento that couldn't go in my pile. Then again, I supposed I could always write it down on a piece of paper and shove it into the envelope that my Masked Ball ticket came in.

  A curious thought passed through my mind. What would happen if I dialed the number? Would he pick up, or would he ignore me as I had ignored his calls dozens of times before? Whatever the answer would have been, I wasn't brave enough to call him.

  Patience wasn't one of my virtues, and the line was moving at a snail's pace. In exasperation, I looked several girls past me toward the front. Did someone accidentally flush themselves? It sure seemed like it.

  Despite my annoyance though, my mind kept drifting back to Jack Kemble. I did a lot of stupid things when I was drunk. Would it hurt to do one more? Out of sheer boredom and curiosity, I sent Jack a text. It simply said, “I'm at Rudy's Bar & Grill.” Then I shut off my phone, half from embarrassment and half because I didn't want my feelings to get hurt if he didn't respond. I could check my messages in the morning, if he left any. At best, I was expecting a “Who is this?” response, in which case, I would just delete it and go about my business.

  It felt like another thirty minutes had passed before I was finally able to use the bathroom and make it back to where Eric was sitting. He must have gotten tired of waiting too, because he had drunk both his beer and my bloody mary.

  I gave the empty glass a sarcastic glare. “Couldn't wait for me, huh?”

  “You were taking forever. I thought I was going to have to call search and rescue.”

  “I thought they were going to have to call search and rescue for some of the girls in front of me. I'll never understand why it takes some women so long to use the bathroom.”

  “You and me both.”

  Eric ordered us another round of drinks and we drank and drank and drank. Soon, my text to Jack Kemble was forgotten. We talked about stupid stuff and laughed until our sides hurt. Then we drank some more.

  It wasn't long before the night began to fade, my memories coming in spurts. One minute, Eric and I were laughing about an incident from college. The next minute, he was in the booth beside me with his arm wrapped around my shoulder. I was uncomfortable, but I did my best not to show it. Then Eric was whispering sweet nothings into my ear, telling me how he loved me and wanted to be with me. It had to be the alcohol talking, or maybe it wasn't. Either way, the feeling wasn't reciprocated, and I tried to tell him that as gently as possible. The mood soured a bit. We were stumbling outside. In a moment of drunken passion, Eric grabbed me by the wrists, forcing me up against the wall while his mouth assaulted mine. I struggled and said, “No.” For a split second, I was desperately afraid, but we were in public, so I knew he wouldn't take things too far. Then I thought I saw Jack, but I didn't know how or why. Words were exchanged. I was throwing up. Someone was yelling. And then the world went black.

  The morning sun was an unpleasant sight, streaming through the window to wake me up. Reflexively, my hand groped for a pillow to cover my face with but instead landed on hard naked flesh. There was a man laying beside me, and I didn't know who it was. My breath hitched in panic. Had I given in to Eric?

  Cautiously, I turned my head to see who I was laying with. A mess of dark disheveled hair peeked up from under the comforter. It took one look at my surroundings to recognize the room I was in—Jack Kemble's bedroom. And the person laying beside me was none other than the man himself. But why?

  It was then I realized I was naked, though I couldn't tell if he was or not. Last time we had been in bed together, he had slept with his boxers on, and I wasn't about to look to see if he was wearing them.

  The room was spinning beyond control, and I knew it was only a matter of time before my stomach gave up its contents. Desperately, I crawled to the side of the bed, but as soon as I was about to set my foot down, I saw the bucket. Instinctively, I bent to retch into it. The vomiting came on sudden and violent, and there was no hope that I could be quiet enough not to wake Jack up. My entire body ached from the effort, my stomach and throat burning having already expelled so much. The bucket had been half full before I added to it. Somehow I didn't remember waking up in the middle of the night to vomit.

  Before I even knew what was happening, Jack was kneeling behind me, holding my hair out of my face. By the time I finished, I was breathless. I crawled back a bit, and he made way for me to lay down. He disappeared from my line of sight for a moment only to return with a wet washcloth, wiping the sweat from my brow and the bile from the sides of my mouth. I looked up at Jack in confusion and embarrassment, but I felt too sick to talk, so I just groaned instead.

  “Shhh, it's alright,” he told me. “I'll take care of you.”

  “What happened?” I coughed out, turning to retch again. Jack was wearing boxers, I realized, though I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed about it.

  When I finished coughing up a whole lot of nothing and rested myself back on the bed, he said, “You had a bit too much to drink last night.”

  “That's the understatement of the year.”

  “You should rest today.”

  I wanted to say that I needed to go home, but in truth, I really didn't want to go home. Vaguely, I remembered something happening with Eric—something not good, though I was too afraid to ask about it. Most of the night after Mandy had left was a mystery to me.

  I slept off and on all day, and Jack was always there to tend to my needs when I awoke. He helped me take down water when I thought I could stomach it, then fed me dinner in bed later in the afternoon. Finally, when the world had stopped spinning, and I felt like I could sit up for more than five minutes without vomiting, I mustered up the courage to ask what had happened.

  “You don't remember any of it?” Jack didn't sound surprised.

  “Most of the night's a blur,” I confessed. “I definitely don't remember h
ow I got here.”

  “You sent me a text from the bar. I replied, and when you didn't respond, I thought something was wrong, so I came looking for you. Some guy was kissing you outside the bar. It looked like he was forcing himself on you, so I stepped in. He claimed to be your boyfriend, but all you kept repeating was no, so I brought you back here. I'd ask who he was, but it's none of my business.”

  “He was a very aggressive friend. Not my boyfriend,” I insisted. “We didn't? I mean, me and you?”

  “Oh, no. You threw up all over yourself, so I took your clothes off and had them washed. And I wanted to stay next to you in case you needed me in the middle of the night, which you did, several times.” He eyed the fresh vomit bucket he had set down for me. The previous one had filled the room with the lovely aroma of the night before. I felt bad that Jack had to sit there and smell it.

  “I really appreciate you taking care of me,” I replied shyly. “In truth, I didn't think you'd recognize my number.”

  “Then why text me?”

  My cheeks flushed. “Because I was drunk . . . and thinking of you.”

  “Mandy told me you moved.”

  “I did. I couldn't afford to stay with her any longer since I quit working at Syngex. She didn't deserve the heat from her father over me not paying rent.”

  “You didn't have to leave, you know.”

  “Yes, I did.” I sighed. “That last night I was here, things were weird. I was getting tired of all the awkwardness at the office. I couldn't do it anymore. I'm sorry.”

  “It didn't have to be awkward.”

  “It would have been. I'm not like those other girls. I can't just sleep with my boss and pretend nothing happened. Maybe they're wired to operate like that, but I'm not. You should know by now I'm not the most stable person. My mind gets the better of me at times and—“

  “You should rest,” Jack cut me off.