Use Somebody

by Riley Jean

  She grew quiet. “You mean with Lexi?”

  I sighed, remembering the night of her birthday where we hashed it all out. “Yes.”

  “Am I like her? I mean, was she right, what she said about me replacing her?”

  I laid on my back, watching my the blades of my ceiling fan spin in an endless loop. “Sometimes you remind me of her. She liked dressing up and parties, too. She was always looking for opportunities to get me in a skirt and do my makeup.”

  She giggled. “Did you ever let her?”

  “Oh, yes. I went along with it for awhile. But it just wasn’t me, you know?”

  “Yeah. But I’m not sure if this—all the black and gray—is you either.”

  “You’re right. Guess I’m not sure who I really am, anymore.”

  “Well… if you ever need help, like, figuring it out, I’m here. You know, if you want.”

  I smiled at her offer. “You wanna know the main difference between you and Lexi?”

  “What’s that?”

  “You listened to me… Thank you.”

  I could hear the smile return to her voice. “I’m having a Halloween party this weekend. It’ll be huge, close to a hundred people! There’ll be dancing and a costume contest, and Cole and Vance always set up this haunted house… Want to come?”

  “Actually, I already told Ricky I’d go to this other party with him.”

  “Oh. You two dating yet?”

  She was relentless. I rolled my eyes even though she couldn’t see me. “Still just friends.”

  “I believe you. Just checking!”

  “See ya, Summer.”

  “Later.”

  I ended the call, took a breath, then grabbed a pen.

  [Journal]

  Even the best of intentions mean nothing when you realize you’ve just baked a cake with one rotten egg.

  * * *

  No sooner had we walked in the door, we were approached by two girls wearing rabbit ears, 6-inch heels, fishnet tights, and not much else. Welcome to the world of Ricky Storm—sex on a stick.

  “Hi Ricky,” they said in unison, then giggled.

  They were beautiful in an exotic kind of way, bold and built like Victoria Secret models. Their eyes were heavily lined with dark shadow, and their bronze skin shimmered as if they’d been bathed in gold. Ten pounds of hair fell in perfect waves, so long it reached their lower backs.

  I internally cringed. I anticipated this happening, though not within the first five seconds of arrival.

  Ricky had been nice enough to invite me out; I wasn’t going to thank him by killing his game. I would be fine on my own for a bit while he did his thing. The last thing I wanted was to be a burden to him, the way Lexi had felt on so many occasions.

  Before I was able to slink away, he hooked an arm around my neck to keep me in place.

  “Can you ladies point us to the keg?” he said without his signature smirk. “My friend here is thirsty.”

  I shot him a curious glance while the other girls pouted and pointed. And then he led me away.

  “You can go with them,” I smiled reassuringly. “I’m not naïve to what goes on at these parties. You don’t need to refrain for my sake.”

  His dark brows came together. “I’m not gonna ditch you here.”

  I gestured behind us. “Bunnies, Ricky. Two of them. Do you really want to miss out on that action?”

  He chuckled and shook his head at me. “Bunnies ain’t got nothing on you, kiddo.”

  I smiled gratefully and snuck in a hug. Certainly my company couldn’t compete with the kind of fun those two girls promised. But he was choosing me over sex—the very thing that made him famous in this little town. He was giving it up for one night. For his annoying little pseudo sister. For me.

  “Want a drink?” he asked.

  I nodded. He told me to stay put and disappeared in the direction of the keg.

  I watched the costumed crowd curiously, amused by the variety of characters. A few of the guys looked pretty outrageous, but the girls all looked the same: a sexy unicorn, a sexy Robin Hood, even a sexy UPS driver. I very well could’ve stripped down to my underwear and fit right in.

  I wasn’t wearing a costume per se, but I did play up the dark look a little bit with leather and studs, plus heavier eye liner than normal.

  While Ricky was busy fetching our drinks, the guy standing next to me did a double take.

  “Whoa, Goldilocks? That you?”

  I recognized him. Dracula, AKA Bradley Poole, was in a few of my classes in high school. Though in four years, I couldn’t recall us ever sharing a conversation. He had played football and was crowned prom prince our junior year, if I recalled correctly. Apparently we were not on a first name basis.

  “Yes, it’s me,” I gave a closed-lip smile. “How goes it, Vampire Boy?”

  He grinned and rubbed a thumb along his lower lip. “Sorry. I meant Scarlett. Scarlett Rossi. See? I remember.”

  I lifted an eyebrow in genuine surprise. Generally guys like Brad had better things to do than notice good girls like me. “Goldilocks” was predictable, even “Little Scarlett.” But how had he remembered my full name?

  Realizing I was impressed, he moved closer and extended a hand. “Brad Poole. We had history class together senior year.”

  Shaking his hand, I nodded slowly as if I had forgotten. “Right.”

  He placed a hand over his heart. “You sang the National Anthem at graduation. Changed my life!”

  I rolled my eyes at his dramatics, but smiled. “Please.” How could I forget about that? Up to that point, it was the most nerve-racking moment of my life. Miles had encouraged me to do it, of course (he had always been so showy). But for my first and last stint of singing solo in public, it didn’t turn out half bad.

  “Seriously,” he insisted. “You should be on Broadway, or American Idol or something.”

  That earned a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “So how have you—”

  “Beat it.”

  We both turned at those two words. Ricky stood before us wearing a surly glower aimed straight at Brad. Brad’s brows shot up like rockets. He looked between the two of us with a comical expression.

  That’s right. Goldilocks and Ricky Storm. Alert the media.

  Brad had been friendly, but I didn’t come here tonight to chat up guys and pretend like we were old friends. I was here to spend time with Ricky. Hadn’t he done the same for me? So I took the red cup he offered and smiled gratefully.

  “Thanks, Ricky.” He put his arm around me again, a possessive move, and I shot a cordial smile to the other boy. “Nice chatting with you, Brad.” Better to diffuse the situation than to give the wrong idea.

  With his jaw on the floor, he watched as Ricky led me away. I smiled to myself thinking of what a great big brother Ricky was. This was certainly a benefit to being seen with him in public. Guys were intimidated by Ricky Storm, so as long as I stayed close, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting hit on at all.

  Hmm… I wondered if it would work around Vance.

  We stopped in the living room where a few guys were playing beer pong. I took a sip of my drink and licked my lips merrily when I realized it wasn’t beer.

  “Rum and Coke?”

  He looked down at me with narrowed, suspicious eyes. “Yeah?”

  Why was he already in a funk? I gave him my full-dimpled smile and hoped to turn that around. “My favorite.”

  It worked like a charm. After a few seconds, his frown disappeared and he returned my smile with a small one. My favorite one.

  “I know.”

  * * *

  The only time I left his side was when they played “Thriller.” I couldn’t listen to that song and not dance to it. Nope. Nuh-uh. No way. That just wasn’t an option. So I shoved my cup into Ricky’s hands and moved to an empty space in the room, busting out the routine I had known since I was eight.

  As the beat picked up, a few more girls joined in, and
others stood to the side and tried to watch our steps and learn.

  There were almost a dozen of us moving in unison. Sexy animals and silly superheroes shared smiles as the music thrummed between us, experiencing something great together. We were strangers united by a common love for a hit written before any of us were born. That was one of my favorite things about music: its timelessness. So many people could be moved by a single piece—spanning time, space, and even social circles—yet it touched each of us uniquely.

  I was a few drinks in, so my nerves were steel. Even though we had a crowd cheering us on, the only person I noticed was Ricky. And despite the scantily clad girls surrounding me, he only had eyes for me.

  I danced for him with a secretive, confident smirk. Despite the alcohol in my system, my movements were spot-on and strong. What was it about being inebriated that turned me into an entertainer?

  I giggled when one of the steps reminded me of the night Ricky made me dance to the fox song in Vance’s cabin. When I made a silly face and improvised a move, Ricky rewarded me with a very rare full-on grin. He remembered, too, which made me feel even warmer.

  After the song ended, one of the girls turned to hug me and complimented my costume. Initially I was taken aback. She didn’t look familiar and I couldn’t help but wonder what her motive was with pretending to be nice. I narrowed my eyes warily, but mumbled ‘thanks’ from my ingrained politeness. She just shrugged and skipped away. Weird.

  My chin was then pulled in another direction and a big kiss landed on my cheek. I blinked in shock at a familiar face.

  “Farrell?”

  “Check you out, Texas! Lookin’ good!”

  I laughed when Ricky appeared and smacked him playfully in the back of the head.

  “Sorry, man. Your girl has some moves.” Farrell wore a smile as well. I loved seeing the easy banter between Ricky and his friend.

  I giggled at their silliness and smiled a glossy smile at Ricky. “Your girl?”

  His smoky gray eyes softened toward mine. “My girl.”

  Ricky cut me off the good stuff after that. Every time I handed him my cup, he filled it with water and handed it back. He said I needed to be sober enough to stay on his bike at the end of the night. It was so nice having someone look after me. I had never been able to determine my own drinking limits. If it were up to me, I would’ve ended up smashed already.

  Not once did I feel out of place or like I didn’t belong. Ricky let me cling to him when I got a little dizzy on my own two feet. We had never been very touchy before, but for whatever reason (probably the rum), it didn’t feel totally awkward.

  He went along with it, talking to friends and shooting darts while cradling me at his side. A few more girls tried to flirt with Ricky and shot me the look of death when he ignored them. He was so beyond caring about any of them, I started to find it funny. I returned their coldness with an innocent smile. Killing the bitches with kindness.

  Another classic song came on and everybody whooped. I tried to pull Ricky off his stool to dance with me, but he wouldn’t budge. Not even “pretty please with a cherry on top” worked. The man was made of stone. He reminded me, just like he had the first party he brought me to, that he didn’t dance.

  This was unacceptable.

  Disregarding his refusal, I stood between his knees and placed my hands on his shoulders, shaking my hips as if he were my willing partner. As I got lost to the music, I couldn’t help but wonder if Vance would’ve danced with me had he been here tonight.

  “I’ve heard somewhere that men that can dance are amazing lovers,” I teased. “Why won’t you show me what you’ve got?”

  The next dart he threw missed the bull’s eye by about five feet.

  I faced away from him and continued to dance, moving my body with the beat. I even did a silly little booty shake to make him laugh. Big arms encased me and held me against him, my back pressed into his chest. “You’re a little troublemaker,” he said in my ear. I giggled.

  He kept hold of me like this until the end of the song. The next one was slower. I rested my head back against his shoulder and shut my eyes. It felt good to be so close to another human being. I wondered what costume Vance was wearing, and if he was dancing with somebody tonight. Maybe Summer. When a whiff of smoke hit my nostrils, I secretly wished he smelled like peppermint and spice.

  I started humming along to the melody. Eventually I realized that we were swaying lightly together. I wasn’t sure who started it, but Ricky was definitely swaying with me. I smiled to myself in victory.

  At the end of the night, we walked back to his bike with arms wrapped around each other’s waists, me slightly off kilter.

  I’d tried to avoid thinking of Vance all night, but he was ever-present in the back of my mind. Hooking up with him and rekindling my need for touch was like playing with fire, because all I really wanted was selfish momentary pleasure. I’d been so good about not allowing even the barest trace of male contact for months. I wasn’t in a healthy place emotionally, and I feared discipline and reason weren’t enough to stop me from getting myself into major trouble.

  That’s what I liked about Ricky. Nothing was ever complicated with Ricky. We could sleep next to each other without worrying about attachment or expectations. I could always count on him to help me leave the world behind.

  Ricky was more than my friend. He was family. Why should it be any different now that we hung out in public? I didn’t know why I had even been worried.

  “I wish you were my brother instead of James.”

  It confused me when he stopped and looked down at me, brows drawn together. I wasn’t sure what that look was for. He was my family. Period. Blood didn’t matter. I didn’t mean to suggest that it did.

  But seriously. It would have made things a whole hell of a lot easier.

  “Don’t you?”

  Silently, he resumed walking, holding me at his side until we reached his bike. Then he lifted the helmet over my head and fastened the strap, just like he always did.

  “Sure, kiddo.”

  Chapter 25

  Catch and Release

  “Staplegunned” by The Spill Canvas

  A few nights later, I found myself back at the old park. Don’t ask me why because I don’t have an answer to that. It was another bad night at home and I couldn’t sleep, so I just started walking until I ended up here.

  I sat on a swing, swaying slightly to and fro, toes rooted in the sand. I was getting so tired of it all—running away from my problems like it was the only way to survive. It was exhausting, especially carrying a load like mine. Every day it felt like I was dragging around an extra thousand pounds. Tonight even opening my eyes again seemed too arduous.

  My thoughts drifted to years long past, when this playground used to be made of wood and nails. There was a tire swing. I remembered twirling on it until I could hardly walk straight. For one reason or another, the city must’ve decided it was too dangerous and ripped it out. Now everything was soft and plastic.

  I felt bad for the future generations of kids who would never know the dizzying joy of that tire swing. And I wondered how they would ever learn to make it out there if we were constantly trying to bubble wrap the world.

  A twig cracked. A throat cleared. I stilled in my swing and watched a hooded figure approach. He was silhouetted against the street lamps, but even so, I knew who it was.

  “How’d you know I’d be here?” I questioned.

  Vance took a seat in the swing next to mine. “I didn’t.”

  His answer was atypically short. I just knew he was still thinking about what happened in my driveway. I was so nervous that he was going to bring it up, I said something that took a special kind of stupid.

  “So… do you actually like me?”

  He chuckled softly. I could tell he knew exactly what I was doing, but was willing to humor me. After all, the last time he pushed, I bolted.

  “Do you really need me to answer that?”

&n
bsp; “Yes,” I squirmed uncomfortably. “I need the words.” It was pathetic and awkward to make him say it out loud, especially something so seemingly obvious. But I had lived in denial and assumptions for so long, it was time to get everything out in the open.

  “First I want to know what you think,” he said delicately. “How do you think I feel?”

  That was the problem… I was struggling to trust my own instincts. This wasn’t the first time I had ever felt wanted, but I had been wrong enough times in the past to make me doubt.

  What I felt with Vance was different. It felt good, comfortable, natural… I didn’t know how else to describe it. Surely that was all due to the friendship we had built. We were both in a vulnerable place, it was possible he was just mistaking those feelings for something else.

  “I think you’re confused,” I hesitated. “Are you sure this isn’t all just because, you know, you’re feeling lonely? In love with the idea of love? Just looking for someone to help you move on, and I’m your friend, and a girl, who happens to be the exact opposite of your ex, so it’s just… convenient?”

  Ever the patient man, he gave me an understanding smile. “This isn’t a rebound. It’s never been that. No offense, but if I was looking for something convenient, there are much easier ways to find it.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. No doubt a hundred girls would want Vance Holloway now that he was back on the market. But he wasn’t interested in any of them; he had been too busy chasing me.

  “Whatever happened to catch and release?” I asked. “The victory is in the catch,” he had said. I thought for sure after one night together, it would curb his curiosity. So why was he still pursuing me?

  “You’re many things, Scarlett Rose, but a fish isn’t one of them. If I ever catch you, I plan on never letting you go.”

  “Yeah okay,” I breathed out sharply and looked away. “Now you’re talking crazy.”

  “It’s true.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s… impractical.”

  He tilted his head dubiously. “My feelings are impractical?”

  “‘Never let me go?’ You must be kidding. I’m just a messed up girl with a long line of issues that you’ll never understand.”