Going Under

by S. Walden

  “What would you recommend?”

  “Honestly? I’ve only eaten the turkey sandwich. It was all right,” I confessed.

  “Don’t you get to eat for free?” Ryan asked.

  “Are you kidding? A little bit of a discount, sure, but nothing for free,” I said. “And anyway, I’m so tired after work, I don’t want to stick around and eat. I want to go home.”

  “I can understand that,” he said. He looked over the menu. “Well, I guess I’ll try this steak sandwich.”

  “A man who eats manly meat,” I said. “I like it.”

  “Manly meat, huh?” he asked, chuckling.

  “Sure. Didn’t you know steak was the manliest of meats?”

  “Making a note of it,” Ryan said.

  I nodded. “And to drink?”

  “A Cherry Coke,” he said.

  “Now that’s a little girly, but I’ll let it slide.”

  “Well, I really ordered it for you,” Ryan said. “See, I thought you could bring it over here along with two straws. You could sit across from me, and we could drink it together.”

  It was decided. I was going to let Ryan Foster do me. I had no idea when it would happen, but it was inevitable. If he kept being this cute, it was inevitable.

  “I can’t take Cherry Coke breaks in the middle of my shift,” I said.

  “Too bad,” Ryan replied. “Just give me a regular Coke then.”

  I nodded and walked away, glimpsing four boys filing in. Cal. Parker. Someone. And another someone.

  I sighed deeply. Life was so unfair sometimes. Why couldn’t I flirt with Ryan in public without being interrupted? And then I realized that a table in my section just opened up. And it was a four top. No no no. I watched helplessly as Kimberly led the four boys to my section, seating them at a table a few feet away from Ryan.

  I could feel the instant sweat break out underneath my arms. It wasn’t so much Cal anymore who made me nervous, though he should have. Parker was really the person who made me uneasy. He didn’t like me; that was evident. And I didn’t know what he planned to do about it. One part of me thought he had no plans at all, but he didn’t strike me as that kind of guy. He struck me as the calculating, vengeful guy who always paid back his enemies. I inadvertently became an enemy when I ran into him in the hallway. He knew I overheard his conversation in the stairwell. I was convinced of it. And then I landed right on the top of his hit list when I tore Gretchen away from his greedy claws at Tanner’s party.

  As I poured Ryan’s Coke, I surreptitiously watched the four boys, feeling my anger rise, that righteous anger I had not felt in weeks. I think I heard Beth sigh relief. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, before bringing Ryan his Coke.

  Ryan’s demeanor completely changed. He was no longer openly flirty, avoiding my eyes as he said “thank you” when I placed his Coke in front of him. I was fine with that. I didn’t want Cal seeing us flirt anyway. It was foolish on my part: pursuing a guy who was off limits. I entertained the idea of being secret friends with Ryan, and then scolded myself for being so shallow and selfish. I didn’t want to be secret friends. I wanted to be open friends, but it would ruin everything. Could Beth forgive me if I chose to move on instead of getting revenge?

  I reluctantly walked over to the four top.

  “Hi, guys,” I said.

  “Hey, Brooke,” Cal said. He looked happy. I think it was because I had to serve him.

  The other boys mumbled “hellos.”

  “Decided?” I asked, readying my pen.

  “You have to write down orders?” Parker asked. “You can’t just remember them? It’s not hard. There are only four of us.”

  I considered what would be the appropriate response, but there wasn’t one. So I just repeated my question.

  “Decided?”

  Parker snorted and asked for Evian water.

  “We don’t have Evian water,” I said. “We have tap water.”

  “Pepsi then,” he said.

  “Nope. Coke here,” I replied.

  “We’re in North Carolina. Pepsi country,” he argued.

  “There’s a Bojangles right down the road.”

  Parker called me a bitch with his eyes, but I stood stoic, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted. I wondered why Cal wasn’t saying anything. It was obvious, the open hostility between Parker and me. I felt like this lunch was one big test. I wasn’t sure if I was passing, and more alarmingly, I didn’t know why I cared.

  “Whatever. Give me a Sprite,” Parker said. “And this turkey sandwich.”

  “You got it.” Asshole.

  “And for you boys?”

  “Same as Parker,” one of them said. Hanger-on. How pathetic.

  “Coke and a burger,” the other said.

  “How would you like that cooked?” I asked.

  “Uh, whatever,” he replied.

  There was nothing more infuriating and unattractive than a guy with no confidence. Who doesn’t know how he likes his burger cooked? Get a freaking backbone.

  “Medium okay? Slightly pink center?” I asked.

  “Gross.”

  “Okay. Well done then?” I asked. I made a mental note to tell Terry to cook it until it was rubber.

  “Yeah.”

  “And for you?” I asked, turning to Cal.

  “Saved the best for last,” he said, pulling on the hem of my dress.

  I nearly vomited in my mouth, but I forced a grin instead. Remember, Brooke. Playful. Sweet. Good girl.

  “Exactly,” I said, never taking my eyes off Cal.

  “I’ll have a burger, medium-rare,” he said glancing at his friend with contempt. “And a Coke.”

  “Sounds good,” I said, placing my unused pen behind my ear.

  I walked into the kitchen to use the computer. I didn’t want to use the one out on the floor. I needed to get away from those boys, separate myself by a door, and one they weren’t allowed to walk through.

  I stood at the computer punching and banging away, mumbling under my breath.

  “Wright! Take it easy on that screen! You wanna break it?” Terry yelled from behind the grill.

  “Leave me alone,” I snapped.

  “Don’t get pissy with me or your customers will be waiting a looong time for their food,” Terry said.

  God, I hated working at a restaurant. Servers were at the mercy of everyone: the hostesses who decided what patrons were seated in their sections. The patrons themselves who blamed everything on the server even if those things were out of the server’s control. The kitchen staff who decided how fast and how well the meals were prepared.

  I stomped over to Terry. “Make sure you cook the hell out of my well-done burger,” I said.

  “Problem?” Terry asked.

  “He’s just a little toadie,” I said.

  Terry laughed. “Toadie?”

  “Yeah. You know. Toadie. Part of the gang. Not the leader. Could never be the leader because he’s a little bitch,” I explained. “Toadie.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “And spit in everyone else’s food,” I said.

  “I’ll do my best,” Terry replied. “Your steak sandwich is up.”

  I grabbed Ryan’s lunch along with the boys’ drinks, and headed out the kitchen door.

  I delivered the drinks first. I said nothing as the boys chatted, ignoring me. The memory of Game 3 popped into my head. I was on the list. Who would choose me, if anyone?

  Terry and I had found another document of Game 2 picks. There were more girls listed than actually made the cut. I guess the boys liked to keep their options open. I thought how lucky those girls were who didn’t get picked. The ones who did? Well, I decided I needed to talk to some of them.

  “How’s it look?” I asked Ryan, placing his sandwich in front of him.

  “Good,” he replied. “Thank you.” He looked at me then, and he smiled.

  Well, this was completely different from a few minutes ago. A few minutes ago he acted
like I was a total stranger. Why the change?

  I couldn’t help it. I had to turn around. I caught sight of Cal glaring at Ryan. Why all the hostility? Why was Cal out to get this guy? Ryan never talked to anyone at school. He was quiet. He stayed out of the way. What was the big deal?

  I turned back to Ryan. He was staring at Cal. And then his lips curled into a sly grin like he was passing a secret message to a mortal enemy. It said, “Go ahead and try to keep me away from her, motherfucker. I’m not going anywhere.” And here I thought Cal had Ryan under his thumb. Maybe in the past, but it looked like Ryan was deciding to fight back. I felt a warm liquid ooze through my arms and legs at the realization that he was choosing to fight for me.

  I bent down and whispered in Ryan’s ear. “Would you like ketchup with your fries?”

  I heard a rumble deep in his throat. “No.”

  “Would you like anything else?” I asked, lips all but pressed to his ear.

  “Yes,” he said, and I understood perfectly.

  I stood up, and Ryan caught my arm.

  “Brooke?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Will you do me a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t hang around him,” Ryan said.

  I tensed immediately. “Hang around who?”

  “Cal. Those guys. Don’t hang around them. They’re trouble,” Ryan explained.

  “How do you know?” I felt the rapid increase of my heart rate. What did Ryan know about Cal?

  “I’ve gone to school with him since ninth grade, Brooke,” Ryan said. “I know he’s an asshole. A bully.”

  I nodded.

  “Please just listen to me when I say that you need to stay away from him. I mean, I know you two work on yearbook stuff together. I know you can’t avoid him altogether. But please stay away from him as much as you can,” he said.

  “Do you know something about him you’re not telling me?” I asked.

  Ryan paused for the briefest second then shook his head. “I’m jealous for you.”

  My heart skipped a beat then settled into an uneven rhythm. I begged him silently to say those words again, and he read my mind.

  “I’m jealous for you, and he’s an asshole.”

  “Okay,” I replied, grinning.

  When I brought the boys their lunch, I made sure to serve them in my best I-love-being-a-waitress-and-working-at-a-diner impersonation. Everyone looked satisfied except for Cal, who was seething at Ryan’s defiance. I decided to fan the flame. How much did Cal really want me?

  “Cal, is everything okay?” I asked. It was super sweet and disgusting all rolled into one.

  Cal nodded. “What are you doing tonight?”

  That caught me off guard. “Well, I . . . um . . .”

  “Wanna go to the movies?” Cal asked.

  Okay. Yes, I thought that Cal liked me a little. I think he saw me as one big conquest that would be harder than his others, and he liked the challenge. I didn’t fawn all over him like most girls. I think he saw it as part of my charm. It wasn’t strategy on my part. Truthfully, I just kept getting distracted. And that was mostly Ryan’s fault. I thought I should ask my dad about getting tested for ADD though I knew he didn’t believe such disorders existed. This guy was ridiculous, though. The second he feared competition, he was ready to date me.

  “I have plans, actually,” I said. No, I wasn’t forfeiting a golden opportunity. I was taking one instead. I wouldn’t pass up the chance to spend an evening with Ryan. And I knew that if Cal suspected Ryan and I had plans, he would blow a gasket. Was I using Ryan? Absolutely not, but I couldn’t deny the advantage our date would give me over Cal. I thought in that deluded moment I could have both boys: Ryan, the boy I saw myself truly falling in love with, and Cal, the boy who would use me and then regret it.

  “What plans?” Cal asked, glancing at Ryan.

  “Just plans,” I said. “But maybe next weekend.”

  Cal grunted.

  Parker piped up. “Well, everything seems to be right.” His tone held a note of confusion mixed with surprise as thought he expected I’d mess up the orders. I smiled sweetly.

  “And I didn’t even have to write them down,” I said, then turned my back on them and walked away.

  ***

  “I feel shallow,” I admitted, not looking at him. I was sitting on Ryan’s bed that afternoon after work.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m so drawn to you and I really don’t know anything about you. Is it just your looks?” I asked.

  “Is it?”

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. I think there’s a lot more, but you’re not telling me.”

  Ryan rubbed his jaw. “I’m a Big Brother,” he offered after a moment.

  “I know that. I’ve met Kaylen.”

  “No,” he laughed. “For the Boys and Girls Club.”

  “Ohhh. They take people that young?” I asked.

  “Well, not usually, but I was pretty insistent. That, and I had a few strings pulled.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  He shook his head and grinned. “Because I’m trying to be a better person, Brooke.”

  So was I. I almost said it out loud, but I didn’t want him to ask me how or why I was trying to be better.

  “What? You’ve got sins to atone for?” I asked lightly.

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  “Most people just pray,” I said. “Doesn’t take as much effort as volunteer work.”

  Ryan chuckled at my irreverence. “Praying only goes so far, I think,” and I chuckled at his.

  “So tell me about your Little Brother,” I said and patted the bed, inviting him to join me.

  “His name’s Chester,” Ryan replied, sitting down.

  “Okay. That’s not a name,” I said.

  Ryan laughed. “Well, for this kid it is.”

  I nodded, wanting him to continue.

  “He’d be considered your typical white trash kid. Ten years old. So-so home life. I tutor him a lot and take him for pizza. He loves pizza. He wants to join the Marines when he grows up, and I asked him why the Marines and not some other branch of the military.”

  “And?”

  “His father was a Marine,” Ryan said. “He died a few years back.”

  “Oh.”

  “He’s a pretty good kid. I got on to him, though, when I found out he got in a fight at school.”

  “You sound like you really enjoy doing this,” I said.

  “I do. I mean, it can get exhausting, and sometimes I don’t wanna hang out, but I’m so glad when I do because he seems genuinely happy to see me. His favorite is kicking around the soccer ball. He wants to play in middle school,” Ryan said.

  “You play soccer?”

  “Used to. Tore up my leg pretty badly last year, so I quit. The doctors said I was okay to play, but I didn’t want to risk damaging it more.”

  “Don’t trust doctors?”

  “Don’t trust anyone, really,” he said.

  “Do you trust me?” I asked.

  “I don’t know you,” he said.

  “I know.” My face fell, and I thought it was a stupid reaction. Of course he didn’t know me. Did I expect him to trust a person he didn’t know?

  Yes.

  “But yes. I do. I don’t know why but I do trust you,” Ryan said.

  My face lit up. I could feel it, and suddenly I didn’t want to talk anymore. I didn’t think Ryan wanted to either. I wanted to feel his mouth on mine, and I wanted to let him kiss me for as long as he liked.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face in his neck. It was unexpected. I had every intention of going for his lips, but a sudden urge to hug him overpowered my desire for a kiss.

  I inhaled his scent, that deep masculine smell of soap mixed with . . . something. His essence, perhaps. I breathed it in like oxygen, a faint sweetness that made me want to lick him. That shocked me. I wanted to lick his neck. I couldn’t stop myself. I
slipped my tongue out ever so slightly—just the tip—and tasted him.

  I drew back and looked at him, embarrassed. “I don’t know why I did that.”

  “Did what?” he asked. “Hug me?”

  “No, the other thing.”

  “What other thing?”

  I was confused. “You didn’t feel it?”

  “Feel what?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Ryan said. “What are you talking about?”

  I blushed and looked down at my lap. “I kind of licked your neck.”

  “You kind of licked my neck?” Ryan asked, grinning.

  “Does that make me weird?” I said.

  “Not in the least,” and he leaned over, burying his face in my neck, and ran his tongue slowly all the way from the base to right behind my earlobe.

  I squealed.

  “Good squeal or bad squeal?” he asked, mouth pressed against my ear.

  “Good squeal.” I don’t even know how I got out the words. I was out of breath from shock.

  Ryan pulled away and looked at me. “I think we need to—”

  Anything! I screamed inside. I’ll do anything you want!

  “—play some video games,” he said.

  Excuse me?

  My face must have said it all because Ryan burst out laughing.

  “Not a gamer?” he asked.

  “I don’t even know how to hold the controller,” I replied. Just make out with me!

  “I’ll teach you,” he offered, and jumped up from the bed to turn on his TV and Playstation.

  I didn’t know what he was up to. I felt the sexual energy coursing through him when his tongue made contact with my neck. I’m not sure why he was trying to fight it, if that’s what he was doing. What was so wrong with kissing, anyway? We’d already done it.

  “Come here,” Ryan said, and I slunk off the bed halfheartedly to sit next to him on the floor. “No, not there. Here,” he said, pointing to the space between his legs.

  Oh, so that’s what he was up to.

  I nestled between his legs, leaning against his chest as he leaned against the foot of his bed. He gave me the controller, then placed his hands over mine so I was trapped in what I later told Gretchen was the Gamers Embrace. He walked me through each button and how and when to use them. Then he asked me if I was interested in killing some bad guys.