by Anna Rezes
My phone vibrates in my pocket and instead of responding to her question, I answer, “Hey Ben.”
“I’m outside,” Ben says.
I turn to look out the big windows and see his shiny black Corvette parked right out front. “Okay, I’m just gonna be a few minutes.”
Ashley catches on and squints through the window. “Tell him to come in!” she shouts, already waving him in.
“Umm,” he makes a questioning sound.
I sigh, “So, how about you come in for a minute?”
His headlights turn off. “See ya in a sec.”
I hang up and walk to the trash can to empty the overflowing dustpan.
Ashley looks confused. “So, he’s like picking you up?”
“Yeah.” I dump the bird seed in the trash.
“Like, it’s just the two of you?”
“Yeah.”
Looking frustrated, she says, “Like a date?”
“It’s not a date!” I shake my head and walk to the door.
She slides off the counter and says, “So what are you guys doing tonight?”
“We’ll probably just get some food and hang out.”
“Hum,” she sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do with you.”
I’m glaring at Ashley as I open the door for Ben. Ashley’s eyes widen as he walks through the door. She’s seeing what every girl sees when they meet him.
“Hey,” I greet, noting his ripped jeans and t-shirt. Nothing fancy. Nothing date-like.
Ashley is smiling like a school girl as she steps forward to shake his hand. “You must be Ben. I’m Ashley. I’ve heard so much about you!”
I give her a look of disbelief, while Ben questions, “You have?”
Ashley ignores his question and asks her own. “So, what are you guys doing tonight?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs and looks at me with a smile. “Where do you wanna go?”
“I don’t care,” I answer, realizing this is going to be weird. The two of us have never hung out without Alec or Gavin. They always came up with the plan. Now it’s just the two of us, and Ashley is putting ideas in my head. I try to console myself. We are just friends. He’s like a brother. It’ll be fine.
“So, you have a nice car. What year is it?” Ashley pries.
Ben stands up a little straighter. He loves talking about his car. “85 Corvette. She’s taken a lot of work.”
“So, do you work on cars?” She tilts her head to the side, definitely flirting.
“I tinker,” he answers in a macho tone.
I laugh out loud at his statement. He looks down at me, offended. “Hey, I can do a lot more than you can, Miss No-muffler!”
“Yeah, like install a shiny new gas pedal. And how exactly would that fix my problem?”
“Your solution is easy! It’s called a junkyard.”
“My car is twenty years newer than yours, and she’s a lux-ury vehicle!”
“Maybe she was fifteen years ago. You just don’t understand cars.”
Ashley is biting her bottom lip like she’s barely able to contain her excitement. “I’ll finish up here. You two have fun on your date!”
“It’s not a date,” I correct.
She looks at me. “Honestly, Emily, I’d take his car.”
Ben says, “Eh, I need to run to the bathroom before we go.”
I point to the back corner. “It’s right back there.”
As soon as we hear the bathroom door close, Ashley exclaims, “Oh my God! He’s totally hot! And tall! He’s like, what? Six three! Seriously, you’ve been holding out on me. And he’s so got a thing for you!”
“We’re just friends.”
“Bullshit! The way he looks at you—” She fans herself. “Why can’t he be older?” She grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “Are you blind! He’s a catch with his sexy car, dark eyes, and muscles that beg to be touched. You’ve got tall, dark, and gorgeous falling at your feet, honey.”
“Ashley! I know what he looks like! But I’m telling you, he’s just one of the guys.”
“Is it because you don’t think you’re hot enough? Cause you’re totally hot! I know you don’t see it, but you’ve got the flirty green eyes and hair I’d die for. You’re a bit pale, but your skin is fantastic. Your shape . . .” Ashley takes a step back, observing me. “That shirt doesn’t do anything for you.” She reaches forward and grabs at my shirt, trying to pull it tighter.
I shoo her hands away, complaining, “Stop it! What are you doing?”
“You’ve got a cute little figure. You need to show it off. I mean, you are crazy not to go for him!”
I look down at my blue work t-shirt and khaki pants feeling inadequate, until I remember who we’re talking about. “Ashley, you’re missing the point. Ben doesn’t care what I’m wearing, and neither do I. I’m just glad to have my friend back. I’m not trying to win him over. We’re friends. Stop reading into it.”
“Sure, cause you’re so good at reading guys, right? What was the other one’s name? Was he tall, dark, and dreamy too? I wish I knew what was going on in that pretty little head of yours.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Three years isn’t that much younger,” she whispers, as the bathroom door creaks open. “Let me know if it doesn’t work. I’d be happy to take him off your hands.” Ashley jumps onto the counter twirling a lock of her bleach blond hair.
I’m standing with my hand on the door by the time Ben comes around the corner.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod. “Lock the door behind us,” I say to Ashley.
“Nice to meet you, Ashley,” Ben says.
“Oh, it was very nice to meet you and—”
“Ashley,” I cut her off, pulling Ben out the door. “Make sure you double check all the lids before you leave. We wouldn’t want any more crickets escaping.” She shudders, and I let the door close between us.
Ben looks amused.
“What?” I ask as we walk to his car.
“You were being mean.”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“You just threatened her with crickets so she wouldn’t call this a date again.”
“I didn’t threaten her, and I already told her this wasn’t a date. You’re hot, so she just assumes every girl wants a piece of you.”
He stops walking and says, “Wait, you don’t? Eh, I guess we should call it a night.”
I whack him with the back of my arm. “Shut up!”
“What? Do you think I might have a shot with Ashley?” he points back to the store and then takes a few steps back. “Should I go back and see?”
“Oh, it’s gonna be like that?”
Ben laughs, moving forward. “Well, if you’re gonna be a baby about it, I guess I’m stuck with you. So, what’ll it be? Do you want to go eat, get takeout, or check out movie times?”
Dinner and a movie feels too much like a date. Then again, a sit-down restaurant is date material also. “Why don’t we grab a pizza and go back to my house?”
Ben nods as we continue to his car only for me to pause, again. “Wait, what about my car?”
“We’ll come back later. Or if we’re lucky, it will get towed, and we’ll go car shopping this weekend,” he says with a smirk.
“Hardy-har.”
We pick up a pizza and go to my house. All the lights are off which means Dad is working late as usual.
“Will Maggie bite me or do you think she’s used to me yet?” Ben asks, as he grabs the pizza and we head inside.
“I’m not sure if she’s even used to my dad yet. She could use another chew toy though.” Opening the front door, I grab Maggie’s collar. “I’m gonna take her out.” I flip on the light and open the back door, thankful for my neighbor, Opal, who takes care of Maggie when we’re not home.
When Maggie and I walk into the living room, her hair stands up and a deep growl rumbles in her throat. “Leave it,” I command. She relaxes next to me but doesn’t l
ook away from Ben.
“Wow,” Ben says. “That’s quite an improvement, but she’s still scary as shit.”
I join Ben on the couch and Maggie lies at my feet. The pizza box is already open, and he has a slice in hand. It feels so good to have him here. I want to tell him how much I’ve missed him, but instead, I grab the remote and start flipping channels.
“Wait, go back to the commercial,” Ben says.
I flip the channel and turn to Ben in question.
“Watch,” he points to the TV.
A man is playing fetch with his dog; only the dog isn’t the least bit interested. The man rubs the dogs head saying, “Spike, what’s wrong buddy?”
Sighing, the dog flops to the floor, turning its mopey head to the side. The man opens the bag of Zappy dog food and the once depressed dog springs to life, running to the open bag. Now the dog can catch anything, even the cat from next door.
The man turns to the camera and shrugs, “Well, my dog’s happy!” Then a tacky jingle starts, “When there’s no fun to be had. We can make your puppy glad. Treat your canine to whole food Zappy. We guarantee your dog will be happy.”
Ben is laughing, and I say, “What’s so funny about that?”
“It’s Zoloft for dogs,” he says, tossing a piece of crust to Maggie. She growls and dodges the treat. “She clearly needs some Zappy.”
“Pretty sure even antidepressant dog food wouldn’t help her like you.”
As it turns out, it’s easy to be with Ben without the other guys. We sit for hours talking and cracking up over everything. I laugh so hard my stomach hurts.
The garage door opens around eleven-thirty, and my dad walks in through the kitchen looking exhausted. His hair is a mess and his shirttail is hanging out.
“Rough day?” I ask.
He sighs, “It’s been a long one.” He eyes the pizza box and then Ben. “Hey, Ben.”
“Hey, Mark.”
“What are you kids doing?”
Ben and I share a look, and I say, “We’re just hanging out.”
“Where’s your car?” Dad asks.
“I completely forgot about my car. Ben picked me up from work.”
“I can take you to go get it,” Ben says, standing up to grab his keys from the table.
Walking back into the kitchen, Dad says, “That’s okay, I’ll take you to work in the morning. I have to go back to the office anyway, and it’s pouring out there.”
I look at Ben. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and my car will wash away by morning.”
His good mood dissolves and his smile looks forced. “I guess I should go.”
I feel like I’m losing him, but I don’t know what to say. “I’ll give you an umbrella,” is my pathetic response.
“I won’t melt.” He makes his way to the door.
“I’m not kicking you out.”
“I know, but you have to work in the morning, and I’m kind of tired anyway.”
He’s lying. Maybe he’s worried what the guys will say about him spending time with me.
“See you tomorrow,” I say in a weak attempt to get anything from him.
“Yep, see ya.”
He walks out the door, down the steps, and into the sweeping rain. He gets in his car, closes the door and lowers his head to the steering wheel for a moment. Finally, his headlights come on, and he’s driving away. I want to know what’s bothering him. Maybe I’ll ask him tomorrow.
Dad raises an eyebrow as I enter the kitchen “Alone? In the house with a boy?”
“What? I’ve had the guys here before, and you didn’t mind.”
“Yeah but . . . don’t you have any girlfriends?”
“Yeah,” I laugh, thinking about Ashley, “And trust me, I’m better off hanging out with Ben.”
“Just the two of you? What if . . .” He can’t finish his thought. And I don’t want him to.
“Dad, it’s just Ben and really do you think you have to worry about a guy getting near me with Maggie-the-man-eater guarding me?”
“I can’t argue with that.” He bends down to pet Maggie sitting at my feet. Maggie doesn’t look like she’s enjoying his affection, but she allows him to rub her head for a moment before backing out of his reach.
“Anyway, you better get used to it, because I’m hanging out with Ben after work tomorrow.”
“Just Ben?”
“Yes, just Ben. He’s my friend.”
He shakes his head. “If you say so. Goodnight, Em.”
“Night, Dad.”
four
I work until four o’clock on Saturday and thankfully Ashley isn’t there to ask me a bazillion questions about my time with Ben. After work, I go home and take care of Maggie while I wait for Ben. His car pulls up out front and I climb in.
“Hey,” he calls, as I slouch into the passenger seat.
“Hey,” I say, closing the door. “So, where are we going?”
“My house.”
Groaning, I ask, “Are you gonna make me sit and watch you work on your car all night? I’m not Alec or Gavin. You know I get bored with car stuff.”
He laughs at my expression. “Well, you could learn a few things. But no, believe it or not, there’s an actual house beyond the garage.”
“Ooo, how mysterious! Am I actually going to be allowed to enter Benjamin Cetrone’s mansion?” I joke, although, mansion isn’t far off. The house is huge and the family is small. It’s just Ben, his fifteen-year-old sister, Molly, and their parents. The guys use Ben’s garage because it fits not only their three cars but also his dad’s drool-worthy, cherry red Ferrari. When I visit, I park on the street, so the oil from my hunk of scrap metal doesn’t leak on their custom stone driveway.
“Only if the doorman will let us pass,” he says with sarcasm. Seeing my look, he clarifies, “My parents are out of town. They’re looking at a house in Florida.”
Dread surges through me. “So, even if you don’t go to the East Coast for school, you’re moving to Florida?”
Amused and a little smug, he laughs. “No, they’re looking for a vacation home. We’ve had a condo there for years, but they want a house. I think they want to move down there once Molly graduates.”
“When do they come back?”
“Tomorrow night. I have to pick them up at six from the airport.”
He doesn’t talk much about his family, and I’m suddenly very curious. “Why didn’t you go with them?”
“Because they drive me crazy. It’s bad enough my parents are making me go on this stupid vacation over the Fourth of July.”
“You don’t want to go on vacation?” I can’t understand how it could be so bad. They have all the money in the world and have gone to some of the most beautiful places on earth.
He glares at me. “It’s not a vacation. That’s what they call it, but it’s Hell. My mom takes my sister shopping while my dad disappears for hours, only to reappear just in time to shower before they get back. It doesn’t fool anyone. The smell of alcohol and cheap perfume linger. My mom pretends everything’s fine and she puts on her robe and slippers and goes off to the spa for a ‘special’ massage.” He makes quotations with his fingers. “They cheat on each other all the time and expect my sister and I not to catch on. I hate it. And it keeps getting worse. I spend most of my time on the beach to get away from them.”
I don’t know what to say. This is the most I’ve ever heard him talk about his family and it’s very revealing. I can see why he doesn’t mention them, and I have no idea how to respond.
“Spending all your time on the beach must suck,” I say with sarcasm, cringing to myself and hoping he’ll accept what I can offer.
“I guess I sound like a spoiled rich kid.”
“Ben, you are a spoiled rich kid.”
His brows flinch, and he swallows the lump in his throat.
“Not that you act spoiled. Ignore me. I just mean your family is wealthy. I’m no good at giving advice, especially when it comes to family. My mom was cra
zy, remember? I guess we all have our own brand of family dysfunction.”
“Guess so,” he mumbles.
There are no railroad tracks running through town, but if there were, I would’ve grown up on the wrong side. Not saying I ever needed for anything in life, but most of the kids I went to school with came from exceedingly wealthy families. Our school could afford the most advanced equipment and the best teachers. The student parking lot was filled with brand new cars, kids wore the best brands, and everyone who was anyone had the latest accessories. If I had to judge solely by the way Ben acted, I would say he grew up on my side of the tracks, but I’ve been to his house and have seen enough to know differently.
Ben’s house looks elegant with its pristine flowerbeds and white stone pillars. The house is built on a slope backing up to a golf course. Although I’ve never been inside the house, I imagine it’s just as regal as the exterior.
We pull into the stone driveway and Ben parks in his usual spot in the cavernous garage. Shaking his head, he mumbles, “Sorry I unloaded on you.”
“It sounds like your parents kinda suck,” I say, stepping out of the car.
“Yeah, they do,” he says, walking around the car to meet me by the door. “Are you ready?” He rubs his hands together. “We could go around to the front entrance if you’d rather.”
“Just go,” I sigh, nudging him through the side entrance.
We enter into a luxurious foyer with more sparkling marble than a museum. The creamy white wallpaper has an intricate, lavish design that probably costs a fortune. I stand frozen, amazed by the opulence. Ben tugs my arm to move me along. We pass under a chandelier dripping with crystals and into an open room. I’m already feeling underprivileged. I know he’s watching me, so I try to hide my astonishment. The house looks huge from the outside, but the inside is more enormous than I’d ever imagined. Mansion may have been an understatement. Just how wealthy is this family?
He takes me into a massive office with vaulted ceilings, a behemoth fireplace and plush maroon velvet drapes over the windows.
“This is my dad’s study.”
“Is he in the mob?” I question, looking at all the leather.
“This is why I don’t let people in my house,” Ben says.
