Becoming Us: Where It All Began.

by Amy Daws

  I frown at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ve been in Brody Loversville and I’ve been in the real world, wondering when you two pervs were going to come up for air.”

  “Well excuse me for being over the moon, basking in the glory, happy!” I squeal and run over to her, poking her ribs. This giddiness inside of me needs to come out, and Angela is the perfect target.

  “Quit! I don’t want your happiness to rub off on me,” she scowls at me, rubbing the areas I poked.

  I frown, “Why the hell not?”

  “Well, while you’ve been in your own little love bubble, I’ve been getting stalked and harassed.”

  “For real?” She nods. “Who?”

  “Mark.”

  “Brody’s roommate, Mark?” I ask, attempting to conceal my smirk.

  “Yes! He’s ridiculous!” She tries to look truly disturbed. I laugh and shake my head. Mark is definitely one of a kind, but he’s not scary. I head over to the cupboard to pour myself a bowl of cereal.

  “I’m serious, Finley. He’s somehow figured out my class schedule and he’s everywhere! He’s taken to escorting me from class to class, or back to our apartment. It’s weird! He’s always asking me questions and answering them himself before I even get a chance to reply.”

  “Well, maybe he likes you?”

  “Oh, I know he likes me. He makes that very clear.”

  “What’s he done recently?” I ask, propping my elbows on the counter and readying myself for a juicy story.

  “Oh my God, what did he say the other day? Oh yeah, okay. So I was coming out of my comparative politics class, and he was standing waiting for me…like he has been for the past couple of weeks. Before I even got down the steps, he strolled over to me and said, Your feet shouldn’t ever have to touch the same ground as mere mortals. That’s how he talks! And he kind of throws in this weird accent. Then he said that my face was too luminous, or something, to be human. He’s freaking weird, Fin!”

  I laugh, not feeling the least bit sorry for her. “I think he sounds sweet!”

  “Sweet, yeah, right. Can you imagine him at a family dinner at my house? Coming home to meet the parents. Good grief.”

  “Hey, you said you were going to start dating guys you were interested in, not just guys that your family would approve of. And Brody says Mark is really smart. Like crazy smart.”

  “Yeah, I can kind of tell that. It’s not that I think he’s dumb or unattractive. He’s just…ugh! He’s so weird! He says the weirdest things!” She scrubs her hands over her face in frustration.

  “Has he asked you out?” I ask, bringing my bowl of cereal over to sit next to her at the breakfast counter.

  “Only like nineteen times.”

  “Aw, sad! What do you say to him?” I feel myself getting sad and defensive for the poor guy.

  “Well, I haven’t said flat out no. I probably should have. I told him I’d think about it.”

  I beam at her. “A! You like him!”

  “I do NOT like him! Ugh. He’s too…he’s too…”

  “Too cute?” I smirk and shove a spoonful in my mouth.

  She ticks her jaw off to one side. “You think he’s cute?”

  I nod and smile.

  “I don’t know.” She looks away like she’s thinking about him, so I decide to pounce.

  “Maybe we could go out this weekend? As a group. Is there anything fun going on around campus?”

  She eyes me speculatively. “Do you really think you can tear yourself away from the Brodster long enough to socialize with the rest of us?”

  “Yes, dick,” I glower at her.

  “Cool, well, I know Jessica and Veronica are having a theme party at their apartment. I guess we could all go to that maybe.”

  “Cool, what’s the theme?” I ask, slurping the last of my cereal.

  She giggles. “You’ll never guess.”

  “What?” I demand frowning.

  “Beastiality.”

  My face twists in disgust. “Are you messing with me?”

  She shakes her head and giggles. “Those girls have a warped sense of humor.”

  “So, what, we dress as animals?” I ask, fearing what else this theme could involve.

  “I guess.” She laughs heartily at my face. I wonder what Brody will think of this theme.

  ***

  Brody: You’re fucking with me. That is not the theme of this party.

  Me: I wish I was.

  Brody: So, what am I supposed to wear?

  Me: Just bring that beast you have in your pants.

  Brody: You are such a perv. Besides, I highly doubt you want me sharing this beast with anyone but you.

  Me: Good point. That beast is mine. Surprise me.

  Brody: Surprise you with my beast tonight?

  Me: Not tonight, I’m laying low with Angela. I owe her a girl’s night.

  Brody: A pillow fight will turn my sad face into a happy one.

  Me: In your dreams.

  Brody: My dreams typically involve just one girl. She’s hot. Spoiler alert, her name sounds like Rinley.

  Me: Parni?

  Brody: liaksdfjkdalldkjafldvbaidoalknvcpoewri

  Me: hahahahaaaaa

  Brody: You just fucked up my dreams for the night.

  Me: I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.

  Brody: Can’t wait. So seriously, what should I wear?

  Me: Surprise me!

  Brody: Oh God, this is going to be bad.

  Angela and I make a trip to the store to find something for our animal costumes. There’s a really quirky shop right next to The Tank that I’ve actually never been to, but Veronica told Angela they have Halloween costumes in stock already.

  After a lot of giggling and flat out hell noes, we settle on a fox and a duck. They are slutty, as most Halloween costumes are these days, but I don’t care. I’m just excited to see Brody’s eyes bug out of his head.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “We’re really going to wear these? No turning back, right?” Angela asks, poking her head into my room and holding up her yellow fuzzy duck costume.

  “It’s a little late to change your mind now, A! The guys will be here in like, ten minutes!” I say, sitting in front of my closet door mirror, and applying one final layer of mascara. I drop the tube of makeup and stand up.

  “I wish I would have grabbed the fox costume. You look great,” she pouts.

  “Oh, my gosh, would you stop? You were the hottest duck I’ve ever seen! Go put your shit on and stop complaining.”

  She grumbles and stomps out of my room. I turn to check myself in the mirror. I feel about as ready as I’m going to get.

  The costume I selected is a one piece bright orange mini-dress with a hood that has two furry triangular points for Fox ears. A furry tail hangs from just above my behind. The dress is definitely not designed for nearly six-foot tall girls, so it hits much higher up on my thighs than I’m comfortable with.

  I slip my feet into my tall brown boots and swipe some clear lip gloss over my lips.

  “Let’s see it!” I shout, grabbing my beer off the floor and heading across the living room into Angela’s bedroom. I conceal a smirk at the sight of Angela’s yellow fuzzy-covered behind sticking out as she’s digging in the bottom of her closet.

  “I’m going to wear wedge sandals with this. That should work, right?” she yells, turning around. I look her up and down and nod, approvingly. Her costume is a yellow fuzzy bodysuit that cuts high up on her thighs. Her arms are covered in the same fabric, with wings. Her costume also has a hood with a duck beak on top. Her jet black hair spills out the sides of the hood and her face shimmers in a golden dust make up she’s applied all over.

  “You look great!” I offer, trying to calm her nerves. “Your skin looks great. Fresh…and dewy!”

  “Dewy?” she crumples her nose at my choice of phrase. She really does look great. She’s petite enough to pull off something so skimpy. I would l
ook way too hoochie in the same outfit, but Angela looks adorably sexy.

  “We’re here!” Brody announces through a partially opened door. “Are you decent?”

  “Yes!” I answer back, and make my way out to the living room.

  Brody’s eyes move around the room and then find me. His brow furrows deeply and he tugs the hood of his gray wolf sweatshirt off. “That’s what you’re wearing?” His voice sounds pained.

  “No, these are just my Saturday lounge clothes,” I say, placing a hand on my cocked hip in blatant challenge.

  “Jeez, Fin. That’s like…crazy short.” He walks over to me and pulls at the hem. “You look shit hot, don’t get me wrong—but fuck, Finley. I can’t take you out like this.”

  “The hell you can’t!” I bark back, incredulously.

  He groans and runs fingers through both sides of his hair. “Damn, babe. This is going to be a terrible night. Why couldn’t you have purchased a big ol’ cow costume or something?”

  “I thought you’d like it! I wanted to look good for you!” I glare at him, feeling annoyed and pissed at how excited I was to show off my outfit to him. Now I’m feeling like ten times the fool. He grabs my hand and pulls me into him with a pleading look on his face.

  “You didn’t even dress up,” I say. “A wolf sweatshirt? That’s hardly a costume,” I pout, shamelessly sticking my lower lip out.

  “It has ears,” he says, and pulls his hood up, revealing similar furry ears like mine. “I’m sorry. You just look so damn good. I’m just feeling a little nervous about everyone looking at you tonight.”

  “Who cares? We’re going to a party Brody. Everyone is going to be dressed up.” I cross my arms in front of my chest and he snakes his hands around my hips, resting them on my bottom.

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s my own shit. I’ll get over it,” he says, attempting to tear my pouty gaze off the floor. “Come here, my lil fox. Give me a kiss.”

  I scowl at his joke, but then offer a halfway smirk. He brings his hands up, stroking my cheeks—effectively stroking away my anger and kisses me sweetly.

  “Damn, foxy lady,” he murmurs against my lips. I laugh and shove him away. He captures my hand and keeps me close by his side. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  I nod, silently.

  Angela clomps out in her four-inch wedges and itty-bitty fuzzy onesie. “Where’s Mark?”

  “Where is Mark?” announces Mark’s voice as he enters. He’s wearing a bright purple adult-sized Barney costume. Like the children’s show, Barney. “Answer: Here I am.” He smiles at us all, proudly.

  “What the hell are you wearing?” Angela barks at him.

  “What? I thought it was a beastiality theme party!” Mark shoves the head of his Barney costume back and gives her a wounded puppy dog look.

  “Beastiality is supposed to be about people fucking animals or something. Who wants to fuck Barney, Mark?”

  “Uhh, who doesn’t? He’s purple. Purple’s cool. He’s prehistoric. Last I checked, prehistoric was fucking bad ass. And he can sing. I’d kill to fuck a dinosaur right now,” Mark says, ticking off all of his points with his purple-covered fingers. His expression is so serious, I can’t stop laughing.

  “Please tell me you didn’t think that little speech through. And that you’d now like to take it all back and have a do-over.” Angela says with her jaw dropped.

  Mark eyes her seriously. “Nope. I’m owning it. I want to fuck a dinosaur.” He smiles proudly, and then frowns, briefly eyeing Angela’s bare legs. “Correction, I’d first like to fuck a duck.”

  Brody and I burst out laughing, and Angela’s stony glare softens to a smirk as she glances down at her yellow-feathered ensemble. I swear I’m going to fall off my barstool watching her instantly soften toward Mark. Holy shit. Mark might just be finding his way into Angela’s good graces!

  “Should we have one drink and then head over?” Angela suggests, and we all nod and make our way toward the refrigerator.

  ***

  Three beers later, we clamor out of our apartment and across the Wildwood parking lot toward Jessica and Veronica’s place. I can hear the music from two buildings down and a crowd has already formed outside the door.

  Several college students dressed as animals are standing around, drinking, and talking. Costumes range from sexy kittens, to cows, and even a flock of penguins. Angela leads us all inside, where there’s a keg and really loud music playing.

  We belly up to the keg and continue the party that we had a good head start on back at the apartment. Jessica and Veronica are part of the penguin pack that’s scattered throughout. They are fun and smart, like Angela. I’ve hung out with them a few times around Wildwood gatherings.

  The music is loud and my buzz feels good. Brody keeps seductively stroking my lower back, nearing dangerously close to my behind. It’s sending all kind of woozies to my whatsits, so I decide to distract myself. If I don’t distract myself, I’ll grab Brody and drag him to my bedroom, where we’ve been spending all of our time the last two months. In fact, this is really Brody’s and my first social gathering together. I promised my roomie a group night, and I’m going to give it to her!

  I grab Angela’s hand and pull her into the living room where a few girls are dancing up on the coffee table. They instantly reach their hands out for us to join them. I don’t even hesitate.

  I turn around to grab Angela’s hand and she shakes her head, silently indicating she has to go to the bathroom. I shrug my shoulders and begin shaking and shimmying along with the girl next to me. We sing the words to a popular Ke$ha song as we bob our heads to the rhythm of the music. Damn, I love dancing. It’s been too long. A’s right, I’ve been way too cooped up in my love nest with Brody.

  I smile over at Brody and notice he looks uncomfortable. Where the hell did that look come from? I raise my eyebrows suggestively at him, hoping he’ll lighten up some. He appears to be trying to communicate something to me with his eyes, but I’m suddenly jostled, nearly falling off the coffee table. A big guy, who looks like he plays football, has joined me and the girls up on the table. He grabs my waist to steady me. Once I nod I’m okay, he begins grinding between me and the girl next to me. I laugh at his sudden intrusion and he makes a filthy gesture with his tongue back my direction.

  I’m suddenly yanked from the coffee table. My face shows disgust when I look up and see a brooding Brody, shooting daggers at the football guy on the coffee table.

  “Brody!” I shout. I press my hands to his chest, shoving him away from the coffee table. “Stop! What the hell is wrong with you?” I try to hold his hands but they are fisted into tight, angry balls. His expression looks angry as hell. I can’t even get him to look at me.

  “HEY!” I yell, louder this time. He breaks his glare with the guy above and looks down at me. “Would you stop?” I say, pleadingly.

  He exhales harshly. “I’ll stop when you stop, Finley,” he says my name like a swear word. “Stop freaking shaking your shit on coffee tables.”

  My jaw drops and my eyes turn into saucers. “Tell me you’re fucking kidding me right now, because I don’t even know this guy in front of me,” I grate through clenched teeth.

  He looks down at me and I see his seething anger break for a brief second and then return. He scrubs his hand through his hair roughly. “Why do you have to dance on the damn coffee table, Finley? It’s hard enough watching guys look at you in this dress. Then you have to jump up on a stage and put on a show?” His jaw muscles tick rapidly as he glares at me.

  Is this a fucking joke? Maybe Angela’s right. Maybe we have been way too antisocial. I had no idea this side of Brody even existed. He warned me he had insecurity issues because he’d been cheated on, but I didn’t know it was this bad. This is ten times worse than he was when he found out about my class with Jake!

  “Listen, Brody. I wore this dress…for you! I danced on the coffee table…because I’m in college. And I’m fighting with you right now…because you’re
being a psychotic ass!”

  He looks at me with indignation, his jaw ticking furiously. “A psychotic ass? Are you fucking serious? Awesome, Finley. Go on. Go back up on the coffee table and shake it all you want. Let that guy grind on you. I wouldn’t want to sully your college experience.” His voice is harsh—guttural.

  His words cut me deeply. In our two months together, he’s never spoken to me like this. We’ve discussed fun things, like our future. Both of us have job prospects in Kansas City, so it’s hard not to look to the future and get excited about our lives together as adults. But regardless, I’m still in college right now. And I was under the impression we were both very secure in our relationship, but this harsh statement about my actions cuts me to the quick and rage flares inside of me.

  “You’re full of shit, Brody.” I sneer at him and turn on my heel to head back toward the coffee table. If he’s going to make bullshit comments about me being a bad girl, I’ll show him just how bad I can be.

  “Finley!” he growls, and grabs my arm, pulling me toward the door. “We’re leaving.” The room grows quiet around us as everyone watches in rapture at the ridiculous scene we’re creating.

  “Why don’t you chill and let her dance, man. She’s a fox. We’re all enjoying the show,” a random guy says from beside me.

  I glance briefly at the guy. He’s dressed in normal clothes, but has an ape mask pushed on top of his head. Is this guy an idiot?

  I quickly avert my gaze back to Brody, who looks positively murderous. Using all my might, I shove Brody’s chest toward the door. He doesn’t even look down at me—he just continues glaring daggers at Mr. Apeshit over there.

  When I finally get him out the door, he turns and storms down the parking lot, back toward his place. I follow him because I sure as hell refuse to let him off the hook that easy.

  “Hey!” I call out, but he doesn’t even turn to look at me. “Are we going to discuss this?” I ask as we reach his apartment door. Just when I think he’s going to slam the door in my face, he steps back and gestures for me to go in first.