by Demi Vice
“Give it back to me!” I kneeled on the booth to get a little more height.
Gomez said something in Spanish I couldn’t understand until he spoke Spanglish.
“Diablos no! Your texting people what you think of them and soon or later you're going to get to Teddy and call him a puta for having too many baby mama’s. Dame el telefono.” He growled, taking it out of my hands, holding it up high as if he had just /stolen my lunch money. “Wasting your damn minutes texting people what’s on your maldita mente!” Gomez growled as he smoothed out his mustache.
I dropped in my seat, let out a frustrated puff and crossed my arms. Gomez came back with my water, slammed it on the table and got my notebook cover wet.
“You’re lucky you remind me of my sister or else you would've rid of your ass a long ago, Twinkie.”
I let out one dry laugh. “No, I wouldn’t have. I’m a damn good bartender, and you know it.” I smirked.
Gomez laughed and stood tall at the end of the booth looking at my phone.
“Can I have my phone…please.”
“Cállate la boca and drink your water,” he said with a playful smile.
Gomez clicked a few more buttons, relearning how to text on a phone with a number pad. I was a pro. It was probably the most useless talent to have aside from knowing how to moonwalk, twirling a pen around your thumb and index finger, or curling your tongue. I was a pro at that too.
“When you sober up, you get your phone. Now, sit calmly and go find some new music.”
“Who’re you texting?”
“Your boyfriend.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Jack? What did he say? Is he coming?” I sounded way too eager for my answers.
Let shine a little less, Ahrianna.
Okay.
Gomez smiled widely. “So, Jack’s your boyfriend? That’s a first.”
“No-no. No, he’s not. No. I don’t know what I’m saying…” I looked over at my bag of red chips and started to dig in. “I’m drunk, Juan Jr.”
“You’re just letting your true colors shine, right?” Gomez sang and walked away from me taking my phone with him.
“So, is he coming?” I asked with a mouthful of chips.
Gomez shrugged. “Just wait and find out.”
I let my black butterflies fight in the ring while I thought of Jack and my favorite features. His rose tattoo, the freckle under his eye and the one in the Marilyn Monroe spot, his eyes, bright like a fire with cognac spilling on top. And that smile. That nearly perfect smile that had my toes curling and my heart throbbing. That damn smile that was always there, showing off how happy and carefree Jack was.
Yeah…I missed him more than I should, but my black butterflies let me miss Jack like I’d known him my whole life.
JACK
“Oh shit. Look at you, esé. Glad to see I didn't break your bank.” Gomez laughed, scanning my new clothes, fresh shave, and my haircut from a few days ago he hadn’t seen. “Wanna see what your money bought me.” Gomez wiggled his non-existing eyebrows and showed off a set of bikini girl tap handles.
A mixture of a laugh and scoff escaped my throat. I plucked my cigarette from between my lips, burned it out, and shielded myself with a cloud of smoke. It was early Monday morning, and no one was around. The music choice was different and indie-like. I could only assume it was Ahri’s doing.
“As much as I would love to see you play with your new joysticks, Gomez, where’s Ahri?” I asked, already walking toward the back.
Gomez laughed and threw me her phone. “She’s in her booth.”
“Why do you have her phone?”
“Because Twinkie thinks it’s a great idea to tell people how she feels via text when she is ‘tipsy-drunk.’ Starting off with me.” Gomez cleared his throat and read his text. “You’re a great man. I love you Gomez, but for the love of God, please stop feeding The Very Hungry Caterpillar. He’s full.”
I laughed, looking at Gomez’s mustache. “That’s fucking funny. No? Okay.”
“I stopped her before she finished texting you.”
Ahhh, that makes sense with the unreadable text.
“You should’ve let her finish.” I smirked. “It was going to be a juicy sext.”
Gomez’s face hurtled to the ground. Papi Gomez was coming out. “You better watch your mouth unless you want a new wager. I’ve been meaning to update a few bar stools.” He threatened, puffing out his chest.
We had a little stare down before Gomez went back to cleaning the bar counter, muttering curses in Spanish under his heavy breath. The standard shit I’d heard from my old cellmate when I pissed him off. Dumbass, mother fucker, son of a bitch, moron, prick, etcetera.
I shoved Ahri’s phone into my pocket for safekeeping and walked over to my baby girl. She was chewing on a pen, bobbing to the music video on the old laptop screen and humming along. Her leg was up on the booth as she rested her chin on her knee.
She was wearing her standard colorful outfit. A loose yellow-orange sweater that was cut off at her waist, a pair of pastel pink tight high waisted shorts that hugged her hips, and a pair of Pac-Man socks that went over her knees.
“I heard my baby girl is a little drunk, is that true?” I slid into the booth and collided with Ahri before I pulled her toward me. The standard chill down my spine welcomed me like clockwork, reminding me how much I’d missed that stupid feeling. How much I’d missed Ahri.
Ahri moaned and looked up at me slowly. “I’m tipsy-drunk. Not drunk.” She corrected me.
She was drunk.
Ahri’s eyes were a little more sunken in and coated with a bit more darkness. She mustn’t have slept for a day or two, but this was a norm in her world. I don’t know how Ahri did it. I barely pulled an all-nighter, and when I tried, it fucked up my whole sleeping schedule.
“How about we go back to my place?” I played with a lock of her hair that was a little damp and wavier than usual.
Ahri went back to her music video, a song called “Regular Touch” by Vera Blue before she paused it and got her things ready. She listened to me so easily. I loved that. She was such a good girl. My good girl. I played with her hair a little bit longer as she let out little huffs here and there, familiar noises of satisfaction. Once she got all her things ready she sat straight, dropped her head on my shoulder, and let out a faint, “Ow.’
“Do you think I’m going to carry you? ‘Cause I’m not.” I chuckled.
“Can you?” she moaned. “Please.”
I paused. “Depends. Why don’t you tell me what you were going to text me.” I grinned, looking at her blonde hair wrapped around my finger. My eyes went over to her dark brown roots. I wonder what Ahri looked like with her natural hair color. Sexy as fuck, no doubt.
“Read between the lines and figure it out.” She looked up at me with tired black eyes under her thick brown lashes that had no makeup.
“I just wanna hear you call me ‘Daddy.’” I gave her a fake pouty face.
Ahri narrowed her eyes. “Not in real life,” she groaned, sitting back up.
“So, did you miss me?” I asked cunningly, still playing with a lock of her hair which seemed like the secret to making her fall asleep.
“No.” She was fast with her answer, but her rosy cheeks gave away the lie.
“You fucking little liar,” I playfully gritted, tugging on Ahri’s hair.
“Ow,” she moaned, slapping away my hand. I didn’t really hurt her. She was just being the biggest and best pain in my ass. “I only missed one part of you.” Ahri looked down at my cock.
“Damn, is that all I’m good for?” I licked my lips.
“You did say I could use your body like my own boy toy—man toy,” Ahri retorted.
I laughed and stood up. “Not today.” I shoved my hands in my pocket.
“Why not?” She almost pouted, looking as if she was going to throw a tantrum with those wide eyes.
Yeah, why not? I thought, imagining that look while Ahri sucked my co
ck again.
“Cause you're drunk and I would rather you remember every part of me fucking you. But…you do owe me a cuddle from our first night. So, don’t mind if I do.”
Ahri rolled her eyes and slid out of the booth.
“I do mind. I don’t like cuddles.”
“Could’ve fooled me when you passed out in my arms last time.”
“I was exhausted. I don’t like cuddles,” she repeated, this time in an angrier tone.
“Last time I checked you like my cock pressed against your ass, therefore; you like cuddling with me.” I grinned.
Ahri tossed her bag over her shoulder and hugged the textbook that couldn't fit inside. We said our goodbyes to Gomez and went toward our apartments. Ahri fumbled on her steps, but I grabbed her tight around her small waist.
“What’s with the textbook anyway?”
“School,” Ahri growled.
“You go to school? On top of having two full-time jobs? You go to school?” I babbled.
“It’s only online. Just one stupid class a semester.”
I chuckled and examined Ahri. Her small body was ready to pass out in my arms. She pushed herself hard, and it didn’t take a genius to figure that out. I hugged her waist a little tighter, feeling her warm body against mine as she let out a soft moan. I would be lying if I said that moan didn't turn me on, but I’d stick to my not-fucking-Ahri-while-she-was-drunk rule. I wanted her to remember me inside of her, every possible vivid image, which meant I wanted her sober.
“Why the hell do you do it then? To better your education?” I laughed through my sentence, not taking myself seriously. Grabbing the book out of Ahri’s hand, I read the title.
Business Management.
“No. I hate school. I’m street smart, not book smart. The only reason I got my GED was because of my sister.” Ahri slurred her words. “School is sister. Work is brother.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I chuckled.
“I go to college for my Aurora. Before she passed away, four years ago, I promised her I would get my shit together for a better life. An honest life which sadly involves going to college, getting a degree, and working in an office one day. And work is for Luke. I work at Maddy’s Diner and save up, so when he comes out, he’ll be fine. It’s the only thing I can give him,” Ahri said in a tiny voice. “Everything I do is for my family.” Ahri paused and shook her head. “Wait, that’s a lie. I like working at Diablo’s. That’s for me.”
Ahri kicked a chunk of broken cement across the sidewalk.
Four years ago?
That’s the same timeline as the fire…
“Guessing you want to go into Management?”
“It's where the money’s at,” Ahri grunted.
She took her bag off her shoulder and handed it to me. Without even thinking about it, I grabbed Ahri’s bag like a servant. Ahri took a few steps ahead of me, trying to avoid the cracks on the sidewalk, which was nearly impossible. The sidewalk itself looked like a shattered car window. She hopped and skipped over the sidewalk with a faint smile on her face. Ahri was much more talkative when ‘tipsy-drunk,’ as well as playful and calm.
“So, what about you?” She turned around and walked backward with her hands crossed behind her back. “Did you finish high school?”
My booming laugh echoed through the empty neighborhood. “Nah, I dropped out the second I finished eighth grade. Never even stepped foot inside of a high school.”
“You hated school that much?” Ahri stopped and tilted her head.
I sucked on my tooth and stopped right in front of her, under a light post.
“Yeah, I did, but school was a complete joke for me.”
“Why?”
“Cause I’m a fucking genius.” I bit my lip.
“Cocky much?” Ahri scoffed, showing off her dimple.
“What? I am. I love to read, and better yet, I can remember everything I’ve read. If you want, I can recite a Shakespearean sonnet or give you a whole lecture on why the market crashed in 1929. My brain is like a computer. I’m full of useful, and a lot of useless, information.”
Blinking, tipsy-drunk Ahri was trying to comprehend my words.
“By the time I was in middle school I was put in every single fucking gifted program class you can imagine, but I failed all my classes. If I gave a shit, I could’ve easily skipped a grade or two, but everything was a joke. The school, the students, and especially the teachers who had no idea what the hell they were talking about. Nothing challenged me, except for those state-issued-tests they made you take in the spring. I always happened to get in the 97th percentile. Even took the ACT and SAT before I finished eighth grade. Got a 34 on the ACT and a 2100 on the SAT. A rarity for a thirteen-year-old. Ended up getting a full scholarship to Van Gage High because of it.”
“Van Gage High? As in the top rated private prep school in the state, Van Gage High? Top five school in the country, Van Gage High?”
I nodded.
Ahri’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
“Did I finally break that smart mouth of yours?” I chuckled.
“Wait, wait, wait…but-but you didn’t go?” Ahri muttered scratching the back of her ear in disbelief.
“I had other things to worry about.” I wasn’t lying. I was taking care of Link, and at that point, he was a full-time job. Exhausting, stubborn, and never-ending. I made sure he was caught up at school to impress his potential parents. “I had no money for the uniforms, books, or transportation. A full scholarship doesn’t mean full. Even if I did go, I would’ve been an outcast.”
Ahri looked down at her feet and pivoted. She walked away from me, head down with nothing to say. She was thinking. How I could’ve easily passed high school with some effect on my part. How I could’ve gotten into an ivy league college because that’s where everyone went if you attended Van Gage. And how I could’ve gotten a successful, professional job that paid six-figures or more.
But I chose not to, or I couldn't because, well, life’s a bitch.
“I did get my GED. Two years ago,” I added.
But only because I was bored out of my fucking mind in prison and had already read every book in the library that interested me. Oh, and by the way I got Fidget, your brother, to take the test and after the third try, he got it. I wanted to tell her everything. But that wasn’t happening.
Not yet.
Ahri hummed. She kicked another chunk of concrete sending it rolling off the sidewalk and into the street. We walked in silence for a while, and I took in long deep breath enjoying the warm weather. It was the beginning of September. I didn’t need my leather jacket, but I kept it on.
The only sounds that filled the empty night were from my wallet chain, rattling with each step I took or from Ahri kicking whatever caught her eye. Ahri let out a heavy sigh and then slowed down her steps until we were side by side again.
“So, tell me, why did you drop out?” I asked softly.
“I’m not smart,” she said.
I let out a short laugh. I found that very hard to believe.
She sighed heavily. “I don’t know. It just wasn’t a priority. There were other things to worry about other than finishing school.”
“Like?”
“Money, food. Taking care of my sister and brother, which involved getting money and food.”
“So, you worked?”
“Mmmm…something like that.”
“You did something illegal?” I cocked an eyebrow, curiosity rushing my pulse.
Ahri shrugged.
“Am I ever going to find out what my bad little girl did?” I bit my lip.
“Got any petty crime stories you wanna trade?” She smirked.
“I got a few.” I grinned.
I humored myself knowing very well I could write several cyclopedia-thick volumes with all the shit I’d done. Both, petty and ruthless crimes.
I wrapped my arm around Ahri and lifted the strap of her bag over my other shoulder. We walked
in silence toward our apartments while my mind wandered. I looked down at Ahri; her eyes were closed, and her cheek pressed against my arm.
Ahri wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. She looked cute and bubbly when she smiled, reminding me of a feisty pixie, but she had a dark side to her that matched mine. Maybe not as dark, but it was there, hidden behind her cold demeanor, sly comments, and lack of emotions when she didn’t care enough to react. She was an acquired taste, like bitter beer, black licorice, and dark chocolate. I happen to love all three. If I wanted perfection, I’d be fucking Agata right now, but perfection was overrated, and Ahri…Ahri was underrated.
Ahri let out a heavy sigh as she slid off my shoulder and almost hit the ground before I caught her.
“Woah, woah, woah, okay let’s not break your pretty little face.”
Ahri let out a soft laugh and clenched the back of my jacket. Ahri let out little moans after deeply inhaling my scent.
“You smell expensive, Jack,” she muttered as I let out a soft chuckled.
Ahri rubbed her head on my chest a few times as I hugged her tighter. We were only a few feet away from the alley, but I didn’t have the heart to wake her up. It wasn't before long her whole body collapsed into my arms.
“Okay, you win. I’ll carry you, baby girl.” I grunted lifting her up by her ass as she lazily locked her arms and legs around my body.
Ahri let out a few moans and thanked me in a tiny voice as I made our way through the alley and upstairs. I dropped her bag and textbook in her room and looked around. Her bed was made and her kitchen sink clean, but her floor was covered in a few pieces of clothing. Overall, I would say my cleanliness was rubbing off on Ahri just as it had with Fidget.
I jumped up a little, getting a better grip on Ahri as she let out a faint gasp. I held her tight in my arms as she slightly rubbed her face into my neck, her soft lips brushing on my rose. Goosebumps rippled over my body as a smile creased my face. I headed toward my room, and when I saw my once-cleaned apartment a mess, I took back what I said about my clean habits rubbing off on Ahri.
I chuckled at the sight of what Hurricane Ahrianna had done to my place. Dishes in the sink, a wet shower, her towel on the bathroom floor, and a Men’s Fitness magazine on my kitchen counter. It was opened to a page with a man the same build as me.
