Wanted Always (Xander Barns)

by Sarah Tork

  “Oh, I’ve been around the neighborhood, here and there. You know, nothing really that special going on,” I reply nonchalantly, like it’s all nothing to boast about.

  Mom looks back and forth between Gwen and myself, confused as to what is going on. For one, why we are even having this conversation? Why the hell is Gwen bothering to talk to me? I mean, I did break up with her shining-star prince of a son…whatever. I should have been hated on, yelled at, told how it was, that I was so lucky, and that I didn’t deserve the five years I ruthlessly stole from her precious pookie bear.

  If that ever comes up, I’ll just tell her why her special little man stayed with me for so long. The extra little bit that he could never deny. I’ve got great lips.

  Not even going to elaborate on that one. Think about it and let it simmer. Do you get it now?

  But would she get it as quickly?

  If I ever use that response, if her face contorts into confused disgust, I’ll know she gets it.

  What a pity. I want to see her ‘calm’ façade spiked with something more real. I don’t mind getting the ugly truth from people; at least I’ll know where I stand instead of us all being fake to one another. If you hate me, I want to know so I can hate you back. It’s the only way in life, in my opinion.

  “You don’t work at Dairy Queen anymore, do you?” Gwen asks.

  “No, I quit five months ago,” I tell her.

  “So where do you work now?” Gwen asks next.

  “At a place near my house,” I answer while using every ounce of control I have not to laugh at the conundrum I’ve been placed in. I’m zigzagging, giving no clear answer for them to sink their claws into and destroy me with their ‘opinions’.

  “That’s nice; that’s great, Libby. You must love all the extra room you’ve got now, don’t you?” Gwen turns to Mom, changing her line of questioning to her now that she sees I’m not going to give her a clear answer. Perhaps asking Mom questions that involve me would be a better tactic in exposing me for who I really am. Discreetly, of course, neither of them would actually want to show what kind of people they really are.

  Mean bitches.

  “Yes, it was dreadful before. The basement was too cramped; especially since the twins wanted a few game tables. So we just cleared some things and put them in Marisa’s old room,” Mom responds, wide-eyed.

  “That’s great; good use of space,” I tell them, pretending to agree. I know what they are trying to do, and it isn’t going to work.

  Try a new tactic ladies; it’ll take more than a few digs on personal space to knock this girl.

  Even if it had been my room for most of my life; but nevertheless, I can’t be bothered. I remember, all of a sudden, that Dad is still here with us, discussing things that aren’t really what we’re actually talking about. I turn my gaze toward him and see he’s in the middle of finishing his drink.

  “Ladies, I’m off. Back to the guys,” Dad says as he puts down the now empty cup.

  “Of course, darling, go enjoy yourself,” Mom gushes, a little out of her normal character. Probably putting on a front for her dearest friend, pulling a stupid façade that screams, ‘I take care of my husband, and I don’t belittle him when it comes to our children. And no, he doesn’t act like a bitch when it’s just us because, after all, he’s the man of the house, and has the balls in our family’.

  Yeah, right!

  Dad turns to me before making his way back to his rowdy friends. “Marisa, we’ll have a talk later, okay?”

  “Alright. Don’t worry, Dad, I’m not going to run anywhere anytime soon,” I tell him, totally ignoring the other two.

  Dad nods, and I chuckle as he quickly turns to the open bar to get a new drink. He should have some fun; this is his party. He should be having lots and lots of fun. The spot I’m in is the no-fun zone. Even at a party where it’s a requirement to be constantly laughing and soaking in the good vibes, I’m stuck in a horribly hidden interrogation with the terrible twosome.

  A.K.A. The Piranha Squad.

  I reluctantly return my gaze back to the discerning eyes of my inquisitors to find Gwen eyeballing my entire body a bit too long and a bit too obviously. When her eyes finally settle back on to my face, she seems confused. I can tell by the way her eyes narrow, unconvinced for some reason.

  Like there has to be a reason as to why I look nice, for once.

  “That is a lovely dress, Marisa. And the shoes are spectacular!” Gwen gushes, as her eyes widen in mock excitement.

  They really are amazing. And if you’re faking it right now, you’re an idiot, because there are two things here that I have no doubts about, and that’s how amazingly beautiful the shoes and dress are.

  So don’t even go there, bitch. Don’t pretend to like something that you try to convince yourself that you hate because I happen to like it. Even though you don’t even mean it, because you do truly love the dress and shoes. There’s no other way.

  Like really!

  Gwen turns to Mom. “Libby, you must have bought them for her to wear; this has your taste written all over it!”

  And there’s the total switch shift. It’s so amazing, that Marisa couldn’t have possibly been responsible for putting this ensemble together. It must have been someone who knows what they’re doing.

  Mom!

  I cut in before Mom can answer…or lie. “Actually, no. I bought them,” I answer first.

  Gwen’s eyebrows rise again in obvious shock. “Wow, I guess wherever you work now must pay you well; a big difference from before, right?”

  Gwen begins to giggle knowingly. More stupidly, if you ask me. Mom’s eyebrows raise. I think it is meant for me, even though her friend is acting like me wearing nice clothing is such a novelty; there must be something more to the story. Well, if she wants in on the story, and Mom isn’t going to speak up on my behalf, then I’m just going to have to appease their confused expressions. The disbelief in their tone of voice makes my eye twitch and fills me with the courage to give them the low down. The dirty. The dish.

  “Actually, I’m not being completely honest with you guys about the dress and the shoes. I didn’t buy them,” I tell them the truth, sort of, in a different perspective.

  Mom’s face doesn’t alter; she still seems confused. On the other hand, Gwen’s expression quickly morphs from confused to pure delight. Discreetly, of course, but I can see the hints of joy twinkle in her clear, aqua blue eyes. Gwen nods her bobble-head up and down in slow motion, as if it all made sense now in her ‘ah-ha’ moment.

  Or will it? “Yeah, my pimp actually bought it for me yesterday.”

  “Marisa!” Mom hisses after a second, totally interrupting my confession.

  I am trying to be honest. I thought that’s what they wanted. Jeez, you can’t please anyone these days, not even with the truth.

  I continue, nevertheless.

  “Yeah, he just dropped me off out front twenty minutes ago—”

  “Marisa!” Mom hisses again, a touch louder and less controlled. Third time’s the charm; maybe she’ll blow the roof off and this party will actually become fun.

  “Maybe I can introduce you guys when he picks me up later. I’ve got a late evening appointment I’ve got to get to after the party, and with the new service that I offer, customers have been calling nonstop—”

  “Marisa!” Mom growls, her eyes throwing daggers at mine, her hands have clamped into tight, boney fists.

  Yep, she’s angry now. Mission accomplished. They want a piece of me? Well, how about now. A few chuckles spill out, no matter how hard I try to contain them, but this is too funny. I take another glance at the room while Mom struggles to backtrack from a potential meltdown. As for Gwen, she remains silent, perhaps in shock. I spot Darcy sitting at one of the tables in the back with the rest of the young people.

  “Oh, is that where I’ll be sitting?” I point to Darcy’s table in mock interest.

  “I cannot believe—” Mom fumes quietly.

&nbs
p; “I think I’ll go say hello, but we must have another chat later. This one was just so much fun. Alright, see you guys later,” I interrupt another one of Mom’s ‘I can’t believe you’ rants, and wiggle my fingers at the both of them, as I make my way towards my thirteen year old sister, who is busy playing with her cellphone.

  “Libby, she was just joking,” Gwen tells Mom, trying to console her quickly before she completely loses it.

  Aw, shucks, I did it again. I made my precious mother, who worked so hard to put this party together, upset. I’m just so mean, just so inconsiderate of her feelings. When am I going to grow up and finally treat my mother with the respect she deserves?

  Might be a long time before that ever happens.

  “I cannot believe her, at her father’s birthday party?!” Mom hisses uncontrollably, probably secretly basking happily at all the attention Gwen is giving her. She is going to milk it. Their cat screeches are soon drowned out by the distance I put between us, and with the DJ playing a dance track, partygoers soon get up and make their way to the dance floor to get down with it. I stop in front of the table, but my sister is too involved with texting to notice that her big sister has shown up after five months of absence.

  Where is the love?

  “Hey Darcy!” I sing over her. Darcy’s head jerks up in surprise. Her brown eyes quickly finding mine as a huge smile spreads across her face.

  “Marisa! You actually came!” Darcy exclaims excitedly. I take the empty seat next to her and hug her.

  “As I said I would, little sister! Where’s Cam?” I ask, taking a quick look around the room to see if I can spot him.

  “He went with Johnny to get a soda,” Darcy explains, putting her phone down on to the table. Johnny is Ben’s fourteen-year-old brother. I gaze over at the girl sitting next to Darcy, Jennifer, Ben’s twelve-year-old little sister.

  Oh, those two women, they just loved having the same amount of kids, didn’t they? Coordinating amounts by gender, perhaps we were matched at birth, a huge three-way wedding.

  As for their dreams, they’ve been talking about it since first meeting. Mom and Gwen had a plan.

  And I ruined it.

  Chapter Three

  *Marisa*

  Half an hour later, I’m thirsty and hungry. Cameron finally graced our table with Ben’s little brother.

  “Marisa!” Cameron splutters, shocked that he is seeing his older sister after almost five months.

  “In the flesh, little bro!” I laugh back.

  “When did you get back?” Cameron asks while coming around the table toward me.

  “Yesterday,” I answer, getting up to give him a hug. Even with my heels, he is at my shoulder. I know that in a few more months, when puberty officially begins to hit him, he will soon tower over me. I glance over to Darcy; she’s going to be tall too. Which is good. I want them to be everything I couldn’t be, including venom-proof; you know, the kind Mom is known for spitting out in her fits of rage.

  I’ve still got the scars to prove it; that shit doesn’t fade away with time. An out-of–this-world miracle or concoction is in order to have any hope of getting rid of those marks.

  Who would have thought that with words, you can literally scar someone for life? If only I would have known; a better preparation in emotional shields could have been dealt with.

  A mother-venom-proof vest, or an invisible shield that bounced everything she shot back towards her. Would do her some good, a taste of her own medicine.

  I’m selfless like that. Even if things hadn’t worked out for the best for me, I’m not vindictive or selfish enough to want my younger siblings to go through the same things I did.

  And if I ever find out that Mom decided to take turns taking out her frustrations on the twins, because I’m not there anymore or because she thought it was fitting, then she had another thing coming. I’m not going to let that happen, and would happily come all the way back from Toronto just to rip her a new one.

  Just enough to make her know that she can’t talk to people the way she wants to, just because she’s angry.

  But then again, it could have been just me. Perhaps I am the one who just brought that certain evil out of people. So the twins probably have nothing to worry about after all.

  “Did you bring me anything?” Cameron asks, stepping out of my embrace and chuckling. I narrow my eyes at him and shake my head.

  “No! It’s not your birthday for another couple of months!” I yell back in mock frustration, raising my eyebrows to ‘show’ how offended I am, and appalled at the audacity of his expectations of me.

  But looking back at my sister and then back at him, I kind of wish I did. I feel guilty, what kind of older sister am I? I left them in the throes of an illogical venom-shooter that is our mom.

  “We’ll see,” I chuckle and reach down to grab my clutch off the table as Cam and Johnny sit down with the rest of the kids. “Kids, I’m off to the bar, anyone want anything?”

  They all shake their heads as I walk around the round tables, pretending people aren’t looking at me and whispering.

  The Gellys girl is back!

  Marisa was gone?

  Yes, Libby didn’t elaborate. Something about a road trip to find herself!

  My word!

  So, is she back for good?

  Her mother is so disappointed in her.

  Libby was always harsh!

  She looks lovely.

  What a wonderful color on her!

  Where did she get that dress?

  She must have a good job…Gwen said…!

  Good old Gwen! I chuckle knowingly to myself as I make my way toward the bar.

  “Hey…” A familiar voice calls from behind me as I wait behind a few patrons to order from the bartender.

  It happens again, just like in the parking lot, I freeze. My eyes widen in anticipation at what is waiting behind me, almost half a year in the making. I turn around, and come face-to-face with a precious part of my past. No matter how much I’d rather he wasn’t so precious, he is a part of me, and I’m realizing right now I can’t forget him, no matter what.

  Ben.

  He stands with his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. He’s wearing a fitted, off-white blazer, which I mentally roll my eyes at, because who wears an off-white blazer? Even if it fits really nicely, and the person wearing it looks amazing. Ben’s brown eyes twinkle at the same time and his dark brown hair is gelled back to create a smooth surface, showcasing the beauty of his face.

  But yeah, I roll my eyes; or at least I think about it. But damn, my ex-boyfriend looks fine, really fine….and if I keep thinking things like this, this reunion will be more like my inevitable caving or surrender.

  I don’t want to surrender, or give off any notion that surrender is an option by my facial or body movement. I want to be strong, to show that I am still as scorned as I was almost six months ago, that no one should mess with me, even the old love of my life.

  Damn it…why couldn’t he just accept me for me…love me for me? Because I had loved him just the way he was. Even though sometimes he had acted like a total and complete Momma’s-boy-cocky-douchebag. But I had accepted him, nevertheless; it was a character trait that I could easily look past. But cheating…that was on a whole new level of things that I didn’t and could never get past.

  My lips weren’t enough for him.

  And that’s what killed the most.

  “Hey,” I murmur back, slowly keeping eye contact.

  You can do this!

  “How are you?” Ben asks slightly louder than a murmur. I press my clutch against my thigh and subtly adjust my stance, bending my knees slightly, just in case I need the stability.

  “I’m fine,” I reply.

  “Did you just arrive?”

  “Yeah, like fifteen minutes ago.”

  “So did I. I didn’t see you outside; I mean, we arrived practically at the same time…” Ben trails off.

  “I saw you,” I murmur back. B
en’s eyes widen in slight shock.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I was in the black SUV in front of the steps outside,” I explain.

  “Oh, you changed your car?” Ben asks hesitantly.

  “No, I got a ride from a friend.” As soon as I explain that to him, something clouds over his eyes, but he quickly reverts back to normal.

  Is that…jealousy?

  “And I don’t have my car anymore…I had to sell it,” I further explain.

  My poor car…I loved that car. I bought that car with my own money, even though it wasn’t the newest or the flashiest. Hell, it was as far from flash and class as any car could get, well, in the eyes of my family and Ben, but it got me from point A to point B without a problem. And I’d treasured it. Ben’s family had gotten him a used car, a black 2010 BMW, as a graduation present.

  I got raised eyebrows, while he got praise for something he didn’t actually buy. Okay, maybe he had earned it in the eyes of everyone around us, but I still bought mine with my own money! Do you know how long it takes to save up four-thousand dollars earning ten dollars an hour? A long freaking time.

  “Thought you loved that car?” Ben asks, confused at my confession. He knows I loved my car and would never sell it. Even when he had asked me to sell it because it was old and he would drive me anywhere I needed to be, I still refused. What was mine was mine, and no one, not even him, was going to deter me.

  I let out a slow breath.

  “I didn’t have a choice,” I say nonchalantly with a shrug of my shoulders.

  “Needed the money, huh?” Ben says with a bit of arrogance.

  “You could say that.” I say, slightly raising my voice. Ben takes his hands out of his pockets and folds his arms across his chest, then not-so-subtly scans me from head-to-toe.

  “You look like you’re doing fine, more than fine, actually,” Ben says with a slight smile. “You said you got a ride from a friend, someone new?”

  “You could say that,” I reply without a flinch. Ben’s eyes narrow a little; it seems as if he’s getting a bit annoyed at my lack-luster answers. I’m not going to give anything away. This is not information he is privileged enough to know, along with basically anything else to do with my life now.