by Olivia Grey
A framed black and white picture Jemma had taken within the first week of us being friends. It was posted to her Instagram with the hashtag #bestie gracing its presence.
“Why are you here, Axel?” I asked, taking a seat on my bed.
“I wanted to apologize for today,” he replied, positioning himself in front of me.
“You can sit over there.” I pointed to the chair in front of my desk.
He disregarded my comment and took a place beside me on the bed.
“I’m sorry, Frances.”
“Why is it that every time I see you, you you’re apologizing for something.”
“Because I keep fucking up,” he said, his lips unable to shake the frown.
“Well, Jemma’s your girlfriend, so in all honesty, you’ve got nothing to apologize about.”
“In public she is. But here…” he brought a hand to his chest, “in here, there’s only you.”
“I don’t want that anymore. This sneaking around and being disrespected because I’ve got to hide, it hurts. And I’m sick of hurting.”
“I’m not trying to hurt you. I just… Everything is just so damn complicated.”
“It doesn’t seem very complicated to me. You’re in love with Jemma but you feel bad about what happened between us and so you’re trying to make it up to me.”
“That’s not what’s happening here.”
“That’s exactly what this is about. But, it’s fine, Axel. You don’t have to pretend. Not anymore. Be with Jemma and leave me alone. I’ll find someone else.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re free of your burden. You can go back to loving Jemma.”
“I don’t,” he huffed. “Jemma and I are over.”
“Except you’re not.”
“I want you, Frances. Not Jemma. You. Why is it so hard to believe?”
“The way you kissed her Axel, it’s kinda hard not to believe that there’s still something there. You just completely forgot I was standing right next to you and that’s okay. That’s how it should be.”
I was close to tears. I could feel them prodding, begging me to set them free.
“I kissed Jemma because she forced me to.”
“I was right there. She didn’t force you to do anything.”
“You know when she whispered in my ear? She didn’t just whisper sweet nothings, she threatened me.”
“The same story again and again. What the hell does she have on you? Only horrible people or people who have done horrible things have secrets so powerful that they’re willing to be strung around like a damn puppet just to protect themselves.”
“Or the poor.”
“What?”
“The poor. People who can’t afford the things they want, the things they need.”
“Your family’s not poor, Axel.”
“Compared to the cost of college, they are.”
His tone had changed, like there was an itch in his throat that he couldn’t scratch.
“And Jemma’s offered to pay for your college?’ I calmed my voice, not wanting to come off insulting, but still wanting to know.
Axel sucked in a long breath and blew it out forcefully. “Her uncle’s got this foundation that gives scholarships to underprivileged graduates. It usually takes a hell of a lot to actually get one. And well, I’ve managed to secure four years of tuition through her.”
“So you’re a prostitute. You lend Jemma your body and she promises to pay you for it,” I spat, wishing the words would fly right back into my mouth and choke me for being so damn insensitive.
“I think I’m gonna head out now,” Axel said, pressing his hands down on the bed to push himself up.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, you’re right. If I had values I would have kicked her to the curb a long time ago. I don’t deserve you, Frances.”
“I’m sorry, Axel. I mean, I definitely get it. Can you sit back down, please?”
Hesitantly, he rested himself on my bed, his butt so far to the edge that I couldn’t imagine him being comfortable.
“Look,” I took his hand in mine. “You could apply for other scholarships. Remove that hold she has on you.”
“I’m trying. I’ve been talking to Mr. Jones and he’s been helping me out. I even got a letter from one of the organizations he helped me to apply to.”
“And?”
“I didn’t get to read it.”
“Well, why not?” I asked, excitement brimming my tone.
“Because Jemma showed up and she can’t know.”
“And if it’s good?”
“I’ll tell her to fuck off,” he laughed, a laugh so genuine it was contagious.
“So that’s the deal then?”
“Yes.” He pulled my head into his chest. I breathed in his cologne, hoping to capture enough to bring me through the night. “As soon as I’ve got another option, Jemma and I are through.”
And then it hit me. Axel wasn’t the only one with a weird attachment to Jemma. She was my friend line- not a circle, just a line. A short line that consisted of her and me, nothing more and no one else. There was Axel, of course. But ditching her for her ex wouldn’t exactly fly with her. She’d make me pay for making her look like a fool.
“Oh gosh,” I sighed, pulling away from Axel. “If we start dating, like actually start dating, how is Jemma gonna deal with that?”
“She’s only as powerful as the people around her. As long as I have you, I don’t care what the hell she wants to do.”
“She’ll kill me, Axel,” I said, my lips shivering as fear- as cold as ice- swept over me.
“Don’t be so dramatic. She talks a big talk but it’s not like she’ll actually do anything to hurt you.”
“You don’t know that. If you saw the way she threw a punch…”
“Sure. But those people allowed her to abuse them. I won’t allow her to do something like that to you.”
His voice was so reassuring that I couldn’t help my cheeks from flushing red.
“You think we’ll be okay?”
“I know we’ll be okay. Let’s not get our hopes up though. It’ll take a lot of money to buy my way out of this situation.”
“You should just send those organizations a picture of you,” I smirked. “They’ll throw you dollar signs in a minute.”
“Or maybe I should send them one of you,” he replied, positioning his hand on the back of my neck.
One touch from Axel affected my entire body. If this is what ‘chemistry’ was all about, then we certainly got enough to spare. One touch equaled an explosion of reactions within me, uncontainable. I allowed him to guide me into him, drowning myself in the need in his eyes, losing myself in the moistness of his kiss. For more than a while, I enjoyed the sensations his lips gave to mine, the way his hands always knew what part of me to caress and when.
“I could do this forever,” he said, easing his way back onto the bed, taking me with him.
I rested my head against his chest, hearing nothing but the beating of his heart. Quick, forceful beats that pounded against my cheek. No song, no melody, no tune compared to the sounds his heart introduced to my eardrum. I closed my eyes, feeling more relaxed than I ever had, just listening to him live.
I’d fallen asleep on Axel’s chest, only to be woken by the tormenting sound of a cellphone ringing. At least it wasn’t mother banging on my door, I thought to myself.
Axel eased me off his chest, reached into his pocket and pressed his phone against his ear.
“Yup,” he answered, clearing his throat shortly after. “Home. I’m at home.”
He paused, listening to the voice on the other end. A girl. Jemma. I couldn’t make out what she was saying but I could tell by Axel’s facial expression that it wasn’t good.
“Why would you even show up to my house without calling?” There was another pause as he listened. He brought his hand to my face, an apology in his eyes and I kne
w what was to come. ‘I went to pick up something to eat, I’ll be over in like twenty minutes.’
‘Jemma,’ he groaned, tucking the phone back in his pocket.
‘And she wants you to come to her?’
‘She’s at my house waiting for only God knows what. I’m sorry Frances. I just…’
‘I understand. It’s okay, go ahead.’
Axel smiled, leaving a kiss on my forehead and another on my lips.
Jemma
That little chipmunk. Oh Frances, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into?
She thought she was simply tucked away in the comfort of her own home, toying around with dear little Axel but she was doing much more than that. I wasn’t surprised he was there. I’d shown up to Frances’ house first but rather than disturbing the happy cheaters, I gave them the twenty minutes it took to drive to Axel’s house… and then I called.
There were many reasons why his house was the right place to meet. For starters, I didn’t have to deal with my parents here. And secondly, it was about time that I changed his mother’s impression of me. She was always nice enough, but cautious. She thought girls like me were always up to no good. Not that she was wrong, but she needed to believe she’d misjudged me. In the car, I’d wiped my face clean of all my makeup. I kicked off my heels and traded them for a pair of tennis shoes. There was a chance she wouldn’t recognize me without all the fanciness. Or at the very least, she’d feel humbled by how humble I looked.
I rang the doorbell, plastered a smile on my face and threw my arms around her as soon as she opened the door. She was, without a doubt, taken by surprise, but somehow seemed to enjoy it enough to sit down and wait with me rather than hiding away in her bedroom like she usually did when I came over.
“Something to drink, Jemma? Coke, Sprite, Water… lemonade?”
“Homemade?”
“Yup. Made it myself.”
“Then lemonade sounds great,” I said in an excessively chirpy tone.
Mrs. Hawk returned with two glasses of homemade lemonade. In order to appeal to her, I had to like something she did. And I couldn’t exactly compliment how well she’d poured me a glass of Coke or tossed a few ice cubes in a serving of Fanta. She set one glass before me on the wooden center table and took a sip from the other before positioning it in front of her.
I raised the glass to my lips, fought through the sourness and gave a broad smile.
“You didn’t make this yourself?!” I exclaimed.
“Sure did,” she blushed, gullible enough to think something so deprived of sugar was actually refreshing.
“Axel always told me you were good in the kitchen,” I said. “Makes me jealous.”
“Axel’s so sweet, but it’s not like I’m a chef or anything.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m pretty sure my mother can’t even boil an egg.” She laughed. I laughed too. “There’s something about food cooked with love, you know. Not that I don’t like our chef, but it’s not the same.’
This was true. Mother didn’t cook, but I liked it that way. Food is food. It either tastes like crap or it tastes great- doesn’t exactly matter who cooked it.
“Well, that’s a shame, Jemma. You’re welcome here for dinner anytime.”
“You really mean that?” I asked, guiding a droplet of water down the glass. A tick of self-consciousness made me look more human and she was buying right into it.
“You’re my son’s girlfriend and who knows,” she smiled, “maybe someday you’ll be much more.”
Was she implying that there was the possibility of me becoming Axel’s wife? I almost choked on the last sip of lemonade. Breathe once. Breathe twice. Calm. Try not to laugh.
“Maybe. With college and all that, things can get complicated, you know. He’ll be in a whole new world with girls who are…”
I didn’t have to finish my sentence because she finished it for me- not the way I would have said it but the way it should have been said.
“You’re beautiful Jemma. No girl in college or on a damn runway,” she chuckled, “will ever compete with you.”
“That’s so sweet of you, but I dunno. I’d like that. I’d like it very much if Axel and I remained how we are, but I guess you could say I’m too scared to dream.”
“When you want something, Jemma, you’ve got to hold on to it.”
“And work at it,” I replied. “I think the most important thing is for us to grow. Both with each other and without each other, yet still, remember to never grow apart.”
“So much wisdom for someone so young. Where were you to warn me against getting married to Axel’s dad?”
“I wouldn’t warn you against it,” I chuckled. “After all, I would have never met Axel if you didn’t meet his dad.”
“Good point. Axel sure makes all the heartache I went through worth it.”
After her last statement, we heard the clanking of tiny metal objects, turned to face the door and smiled at Axel as he walked in. Finally. It took him so long, I almost thought he ditched his car and walked over here.
I stood and greeted him with a shallow kiss.
“I’ll be in my room,” his mom said, pushing her chair back and walking toward us.
I knew I got through to her but I it wasn’t until she wrapped me in a hug that I knew just how much. “It was really nice talking to you Jemma. We should do that more often.”
“Definitely,” I agreed.
The look on Axel’s face was one of complete shock and utter disbelief. He said nothing, not until he heard his mom’s room door close.
“Trying to connive my mom too, are you?”
“I’ve always liked her,” I winked. “But now, I think I like her just a little more.”
“Why are you here, Jemma?”
“Don’t be so harsh,” I said, moving my hand toward his face.
Before I could even get close to stroking it, he gripped my wrist in his hands and squeezed. “Stop fucking around.”
“I brought you a present,” I replied.
Axel scrunched up his nose, let out a breath of frustration and followed me to the dining table.
Teasing was a necessity here. Somewhere behind the annoyance in his eyes was an interest- an excitement- to know just what I had in store. Perhaps he was reflecting on the past; the times when presents weren’t coated in thorns of torture. Those times were ages ago, when I actually cared. Axel’s family didn’t splurge on material things, simply because to them, every dollar made a difference. I knew just how to grab his interest with unessential tidbits that cost too much to be considered by him. A laptop to replace the snail of a computer he used to have, overpriced headphones for him to deaden his ear drums. Today, however, wasn’t one of those days where I added a bit of heat to my credit card. Instead, it was another chance for me to prove to him that he needed me.
“What is it?” Axel asked, a half smile creasing his lips.
He pulled the wooden chair back with a screech, sat down and extended his legs to the side. Carefully, I maneuvered another chair close to him; close enough to smell the anger that would ooze from him when he saw what I did.
“Well, I figured you were hiding something from me…” I started.
Axel cocked his head to the side, so that I could catch only the slightest glimpse of his bleak brown eyes. “So, you hired a private detective.”
“Hmm… Let’s just say I played detective all by myself.”
Reaching into the front pocket of my hoody, I toyed around with the envelope in my hand.
“What did you do now, Jemma?”
“Congratulations,” I smiled, slapping the envelope down on the table and not lifting my hand from its surface.
Axel’s Adam’s apple bobbled as he took a nervous gulp. “What is it?”
I slid the envelope across the table. Axel’s shoulders pulled right up to his neck with tension.
“Open it,” I instructed, lifting my hand from the envelope.
“You’ve a
lready done the honors, so why don’t you just tell me what it says.”
“Well, I didn’t actually read it. Can you imagine how hard that was for me? But I didn’t. I opened it, but I didn’t read it.”
Axel cleared his throat but didn’t give a definitive signal as to whether or not he believed me. He shouldn’t. Something like this was something I needed to be prepared to handle. I should have known that he would try to find a way out of my hold. Applying for scholarships with his mediocre grades was like trying to go to space without a space shuttle.
There was that cloud of hope hanging over his head that made him want to believe in something other than the truth he already knew.
“Oh come on,” I prodded, giving his arm a nudge. “It’s just a letter”
“I’d rather look at it when you’re not here, to be honest.”
“I broke into your locker to get this, there’s no way in hell I’m gonna be left in the dark.”
Axel gave his head a shake before swiftly ripping through the flap of the envelope and dangling two sheets of paper between his fingertips.
My body was on fire. Winning was such a turn on and I couldn’t wait for him to actually digest the letters and words on the page. My palms grew sweatier with each second he took to avoid the inevitable. And when he finally brought the letter to his eyes and looked from word to word, something erupted inside of me. The smile that took over my face was hard to contain, but I managed.
“What does it say?”
“I didn’t get it,” he shrugged.
“Damn it.” I slammed a fist against the table. “Seems like you’ll need Jemma’s money in the end after all. There I was thinking that I could save myself a couple thousand.”
“It’s your uncle’s money,” he shot back.
I glared at him.
“All of this is just some stupid game to you Jemma. Well, congratulations, you win. Have a fucking cookie or something.”
“Oh, stop acting like a little princess Axel. With the grades that you had, you didn’t really expect an organization to shovel mounts of cash your way, did you?”
“My grades have gotten better. And Mr.”
“Mr. Jones,” I laughed. “You actually trust anything that man says.”
