Bad Wolf

by Jackie Sexton

  “Wait,” I blinked hard, trying to steady my breath. If it weren’t for the claw marks on my skin and for the image of that snarling beast burned into my retinas, I would have been sure this was all a joke. “How long has it been since...have you always...?”

  “Since eighth grade,” he said. “I’m not sure I want to get that into it now...I’m tired,” he said, and the dark circles under his eyes certainly attested to that.

  ‘Eighth grade was when he was attacked,’ I thought, remembering that terrible day when I went to visit him in the hospital. His father had told me it was by a stray dog, that a feral pack of them was known to wander those campgrounds. But Trent looked at me, something fierce and feral in his gray eyes, something that I remember haunted me at night for a whole year afterwards, and he said, “it wasn’t a dog,” over and over.

  “Okay,” I said, wrapping my arms around my shoulders protectively. “Does Sierra know?” I asked suddenly.

  “No, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell her.”

  “What about Lola?”

  “Yes,” he said after a brief pause. For some reason that stung.

  “Nick and Brandon know.”

  Trent was quite for a minute. “Yeah. They know.”

  “Why did you tell them and not me?” I said, hurt welling up inside of me. How could he not trust me, after all these years?

  “It’s...not as simple as that,” he said, turning away from me yet again.

  “What do you mean?” I said, the hot anger bubbling from my lips like lava. I couldn’t stop the eruption. “When were you going to tell me about all of this? Or were you ever going to?”

  “Well when were you going to tell me that you started hooking up with random guys at parties?” Trent snapped, his cool gray eyes on my again, but this time the glare was vicious and unrelenting.

  “What the hell does that have to do with anything?” I cried out, sure that everyone on the second floor of the hotel could hear us. But I didn’t care. I was furious. Who did he think he was, throwing something like that in my face? “It’s not like before Lola you weren’t the biggest man whore on earth!”

  “Well at least I didn’t cheat on my boyfriend,” he spat.

  “We broke up, and what do you care? You don’t even like Jason!”

  Trent looked away, his lips pursed in anger. But I wasn’t finished. I was boiling with rage.

  “No. You don’t get to control me like that. Nobody does. I already got enough of it from my Dad and enough of it from Jason. I’m sorry that you regularly turn into a beast that wants to attack your closest friends, I truly am. But that doesn’t give you license to tell me how to run my life,” I snapped, pushing myself up from the floor with my palms. I wanted to make a dramatic exit, but I just managed to stagger drunkenly towards the door, avoiding eye contact with the person I just threw verbal daggers at. But he didn’t try to stop me, he didn’t say anything.

  It wasn’t until I was lying on the hard hotel bed alone, next to the space where Brandon had set down his night shirt and pillow, that I realized what I had done. I had thrown into his face that he was a monster. I buried my face into the hotel pillow that smelled of Clorox, while all the confused, raging thoughts battled in my mind, fighting back the impending tears.

  Chapter Two

  The next morning I awoke early, my phone buzzing with a text message. It was from Aamir. Simultaneously my heart skipped a beat and my stomach filled with dread.

  “Are u OK? Also, found you a house show in Tally. You down?”

  Suddenly the post-coital conversation came rushing back to me. So much had happened since then that I hadn’t even given it a second thought. Besides, the particular details of the hook-up were a little fuzzy just then, with my head pounding furiously and all. I mostly remembered that it was awesome. I looked around at the guys deep in sleep: Brandon next to me with his arm hanging off the bed, Nick and Martin with their backs turned against each other in the bed across from us, and Trent on the floor in our alternating sleeping bag. I groaned as a searing pain in my head reminded me of the amount of alcohol I had consumed.

  ‘Trent,’ I thought, ‘Oh God, he probably hates me.’

  Then I reminded myself that I still kind of hated him too.

  I looked back at my phone and sighed. It seemed like the perfect opportunity, but a part of me wondered if it would piss of Trent further.

  ‘There’s no logical reason,’ I told myself. We were planning on camping out at Lake Okeechobee anyway, and while I would do it, I wasn’t especially fond of camping. I just didn’t care for it either way. I planned it as a money saving strategy.

  I looked through my missed texts and realized Aamir had sent me few, all asking if I was okay. I also had a dozen missed calls from him. My heart fluttered at his concern.

  “Sorry I missed ur texts! I am OK. And totally. Tell us when and where :).”

  I waited only a few moments before my phone buzzed in my palm, loud in the relative silence.

  “OK. Will do. Also I had fun last nite : ). Maybe we could hang out again? Go out for lunch?”

  I smiled, both disbelieving and thrilled that he actually wanted to hang out again. Part of me had expected it would remain a drunken fling.

  ‘That would be nice :).” I texted back. I was smiling like a dork, sitting on my own cloud nine until Brandon stirred, mumbling himself awake.

  “Hey,” I whispered with a goofy smile as he opened his eyes.

  “Hey...”he sniffed the air and groaned, shoving his head into his pillow. “Mfrggghhh.”

  “Um...what?”

  “You stink,” he groaned as he lifted his head up momentarily only to drop it back down.

  I looked down at myself and realized with dismay I was wearing the same dress from last night, covered in dirt and dark blood stains. I lifted my armpit to take a whiff and I startled myself with my own pungent scent.

  “Oh God,” I moaned.

  Martin stirred, his sandy blonde hair flopping around as he tossed. “Get up!” I barked, lifting my body out of the bed to skip over to the bathroom. “We’re going to Tallahassee!”

  “What the hell?” Martin said before a long yawn. “Why?”

  “I got us a gig. I call dibs on the shower!” I shut the door behind me, ready to wash away the thick layer of filth and hangover that had accumulated on my body.

  I forced Brandon to drive since the lucky bastard wasn’t hung over. There was an uncomfortable silence in the van, which was only exacerbated by all our raging headaches. We drove in silence because no one could handle even the idea of listening to the radio. I briefly wondered how many times the band would be too beaten by alcohol to handle music. I forced everyone to eat from the loaf of bread we had in the back because they refused to get breakfast.

  It was five long, excruciating hours, and by the third, I had to force Brandon to pull over so I could up-chuck in a quaint little Texaco station. I fell asleep for most of the rest of the drive.

  Brandon woke me up as we entered the city, filled with oak trees covered in moss and a strange combination of old, quirky antique shops, dirty looking bars, and giant, well-kept grocery store parking lots. We weren’t in Orlando anymore. It was almost like we weren’t even in Florida anymore, with its palm trees and flashy cars crowding the streets.

  “Hey, we need to get an oil change because I guess no one did that before we left. Can you look up an auto center on the GPS?” Poor Brandon looked incredibly tired and irritated. Just as we passed by a dumpy Irish pub and a foreboding strip mall, my phone buzzed with a message from Aamir.

  “Um, hold on,” I said to Brandon. “Want 2 get some pizza?” The text read. An explosion of nerves burst forth from my stomach. I wondered suddenly if the guys would resent me for ditching them and going off to get some grub with a hottie.

  “Where at?” I texted Aamir before turning my attention back to the GPS. I searched for an auto center and found one less than a mile away.

  “Pizza
Haven, on Tennessee St next to McDonalds,” he typed back.

  “Um, Aamir wants to discuss some things concerning the show tonight,” I bluffed, a blush creeping over my cheeks. I turned my face to hide the incriminating evidence of my lie. “Why don’t you drop me off at this place called Pizza Haven? He’ll meet me there and I’ll order you guys some food while you get the oil changed.”

  “Sounds good, I am getting hungry,” Brandon said, giving me the side eye. I knew he knew what I was up to. I averted my eyes back to the GPS and typed in “Pizza Haven.”

  “Take a left here,” I said, pointing up at the intersection. I tried to keep the giddiness from my voice, but it wasn’t like it really mattered. Nick and Trent were asleep, and Martin was in a hung-over daze.

  He dropped me off at Pizza Haven, and I walked into the quaint little pizza parlor; it had an adorable, checkered floor and red plastic tables. If it weren’t for my queasy stomach, the over-powering smell of garlic and cheese would have been very welcome.

  “Bailey!”

  I looked over to the back to see Aamir sitting in front of large pizza pie, a sheepish grin on his face. He was wearing a tight, blue t-shirt that complemented his dark complexion (and of course, showed off his toned body). His hair was gelled back like it was when I first met him, and I remembered with distinct clarity how it looked last night, disheveled, falling in thick, luscious curls over his forehead.

  I approached him, my heart racing at the sight of his gorgeous upturned lips. For a moment, I almost convinced myself that I had just imagined the hook up. It couldn’t be real.

  “Hey,” I said as I pulled out the seat across from him and sank down into it. He stood up while I sat down, which was both awkward and totally cute.

  “You aren’t hurt from yesterday, are you?” he asked, a deep concern on his face as he scanned me for evidence of bodily harm.

  “I’m fine,” I blushed. “Who knew there were wolves in Florida?” I offered with my palms turned up in a questioning gesture.

  He shook his head, solemn-looking. “We called animal control and they said they’d be on the look out. I followed the wolf to see where it was going, but by the time I got back you were gone. I’m just really glad you’re okay,” he said, offering me a sweet, small smile.

  “Oh, it’s...yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for caring,” I stuttered, mentally cursing myself for being so awkward.

  “Of course I care,” he gave a small laugh, as though we had been close friends our whole lives. “Sorry, I went ahead and ordered a pizza. I was just so hungry. I hope cheese is okay?” I noticed that his plate was still clean and the pizza was untouched. It was completely adorable how thoughtful he was.

  “Oh, that’s totally fine!” I said, feeling a blush come over my cheeks. “Cheese is great. Honestly, I love pizza, whatever kind.” I pulled at my carnation-colored cardigan, suddenly self-conscious of the red tinge that might appear across my pale chest.

  “Great,” he said, offering me the wooden handle of the pie server. “After you.”

  I felt the fire in my cheeks blaze as I reached for the handle, his fingers grazing mine and sending a spark of lust up through my arm. It was ridiculous how much I wanted him again, his thick, dark hands against my milky skin.

  Unfortunately, I realized as soon as I had my slice on my plate that I really wasn’t hungry. I took a tiny bite and smiled at him, forcing the nauseating bit of food down my throat.

  “Everything alright?” he asked.

  “Yeah, sorry,” I said. “Pizza is totally my favorite food...it’s just that, well I’m still hung over from last night.”

  “Oh, I understand,” he said before taking a big bite into his slice. He chewed thoroughly and swallowed before speaking, something I had never seen a guy do before. It was weirdly sexy, seeing a guy my age being so well mannered.

  “I just can’t avoid eating at my favorite pizza place,” he said with a small laugh, a twinkle in his chocolate eyes.

  “So you’re familiar with Tallahassee?” I asked, trying to force myself to nibble some more of the pizza. A cheery waitress came over and I ordered a water and a large, pepperoni pizza to go for the guys.

  “Well, you could say that. I grew up here.”

  “Oh, wow. So what brought you to Orlando?” I asked, sipping my water and clearing the pungent taste of pizza from my mouth.

  “School,” he said. “If you’ll believe it, I was going for a Master’s in Religion.”

  “Wow,” I said, truly impressed. Some of my friends didn’t find guys with degrees in humanities attractive because they said that there was no money in it. I on the other hand found it wildly attractive; I had a secret dream of marrying a sexy, sensitive intellectual who spent his evenings brooding over books.

  And I dated Jason. The only book he ever finished in his life was a self-help book called, “Get Rich Today!”

  “Don’t be impressed I dropped out pretty quickly,” he laughed. “My parents really wanted me to be a professor, but I obviously found another calling.” “My parents weren’t too happy about my career choice either,” I laughed, recalling my mother’s horrified face when I told her I was going cross country with Trent’s band.

  “Mija,” she had said, her spatula waving wildly in her hand, “Trent is a good boy, but you can’t follow him around expecting to build a future with his music!”

  We shared stories about our immigrant parents, their funny sayings and strict rules. It surprised me how much we had in common even though his parents were from Iran and my mother was from Mexico. He was also apparently brilliant—he admitted to speaking French, Spanish, and Farsi fluently.

  I was falling for him and his insanely hot, dulcet laugh. Hard.

  When the bill came he insisted on paying, even for the pizza I was bringing to the guys.

  “That’s absurd!” I said, reaching for the bill.

  “No, it’s smart. That way you have to take me out later,” he said, a devilish grin creeping up on his generous lips.

  I think that’s when my heart stopped beating.

  “Well there’s no reason for you to buy the pepperoni pizza!” The words tumbled clumsily out of my mouth.

  “Consider it an offering. I really wanted to congratulate them on their performance last night, but things got disrupted...anyway, I wanted to ask them to be on our next promotional E.P.”

  My jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course, Bad Moon is great!”

  I nearly died right then and there. “When did you want to record? Which song should they do?”

  Aamir laughed at my eagerness, but I was too stoked to care. This was success at its sweetest—networking with benefits! “Well honestly we were thinking of doing a live, lo-fi kind of E.P. It would be on our website, free for promotional purposes more than anything. What if we got together after the shows tonight? We’re staying at a friend’s place not too far from Raucous Riot, the venue we’re playing.”

  “Oh God, that would be perfect. Can you text me the address? Also, to the house show you hooked us up with? Brandon’s going to pick me up soon,” I said, furiously texting to Brandon in all caps, “OMG BEST NEWS EVER.”

  “Sure,” Aamir said, pulling out his phone to text me.

  “OMG WORST NEWS EVER. GET OUTSIDE WE NEED YOU.”

  “Crap,” I interjected, scooting my chair back against the tile. “I’m sorry, I guess Brandon is here already. And he said he needs me right now,” I said, frowning down at his text.

  “Oh, okay,” his beautiful gaze turned sad for a moment, and I nearly melted onto the floor right then and there. He got up from his chair and met me around the other side of the table. “I’ll see you tonight then?”

  “Absolutely,” I said, trying to keep my knees from wobbling as I stared him in his perfectly chiseled face.

  “Bailey,” he started, a strong, piercing look overcoming his normally soft expression. The air that hovered between our faces was wrought with an unbearable tension,
tight and hot with the breath passing between us. “I don’t know what’s going on with your boyfriend, but I really want you to know that I’m falling for you. Hard.” He closed his fingers around my wrist, and lifted my hand up to his lips, closing his eyes as he brushed my knuckles against the fold of his perfect mouth. I stifled a gasp as my fingers came alive with a tingling sensation. I could hardly breathe; there was a tight hold on my chest, like someone had gripped my lungs with an invisible hand.

  “Bailey, let’s go!”

  I turned my head around, ready to draw blood. There stood Trent, his arms folded across his chest, a grim expression across his disgruntled countenance.

  “I’m coming,” I seethed, trying to keep my voice from getting too shrill around Aamir. Trent rolled his eyes, clearly mocking my attempt to exert some control over the situation.

  “The van’s brakes are busted.”

  “What?!” I yelped, unable to stop myself from sounding like nails on a chalkboard. I whipped my head back around to the perfect god I would have to leave behind. “I’m so sorry Aamir, I have to go—I’ll see you later, right?”

  “As long as you still want to see me,” he joked, the delicate sincerity returning to his face. “Also, ask for Rick at the house show. He’s a little eccentric, but he’s a good guy.”

  “Thanks again,” I said bashfully, reluctantly pulling my hand away from his as I turned to grab the pizza box from the table. “I’ll call you,” I promised, giving him the most earnest look I could before turning around to join Trent, moody as ever at the door.

  “What was all that about?” he growled as I gave Aamir a final wave.

  “Don’t be such a jerk,” I snapped, remembering how pissed off he had made me the night before. It was rare for us to hold grudges with each other for this long. It was starting to wear on me.

  “Whatever. You better go calm Brandon down, he’s losing his mind.”

  In the parking lot Brandon was pacing back and forth behind the van, muttering to himself.

  ‘Well, at least Trent isn’t exaggerating,’ I thought.

  “Brandon, what’s the matter? Calm down, take deep breaths,” I said, jogging over to him and gripping his shoulders in my hands. He looked panicked, as if someone had just told him he had hours left to live.