The Guys Next Door

by Amber Thielman

  Standing above him, rubbing his knuckles, was Jesse. A crowd had accumulated around the two, curious bystanders who looked both amused and disgusted.

  “Jesse!” Emma cried. “What did you do?”

  He looked up at us, still rubbing his hand. “He’s a douche-bag,” Jesse said. “I’m tired of watching this asshole break hearts.” He looked down at Elijah, who looked almost scared. “You had it coming.”

  Elijah said nothing as Jesse gathered up his backpack, saluted Emma and me, and then walked away. We watched him leave, dumbfounded, hardly paying any attention to Elijah.

  “Wow,” Emma said finally. “He must really like you. I’ve never seen Jesse get violent before in my entire life.”

  I made it through school without breaking down over Elijah, but that was because I was still shocked by what had happened earlier between him and Jesse. I hadn’t seen either of them since Jesse had punched Elijah in the face, but Emma’s words stuck with me, refusing to dwindle. Jesse had hit Elijah. He’d hit him hard—and the whole school knew it was because of me. For a while, I wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered or annoyed. Part of me wanted to find Jesse and chew him out—but another part of me, the bigger part, wanted to hug him.

  My mind was swimming with confusion for the rest of the day, but I’d held it together until Emma and I walked through the front doors of The Guys Next Door. We took a seat at the bar, and Marisol smiled at us. That was when I lost it. It started light, the tears, and by the time Marisol turned around to greet us, I was sobbing.

  “Oh, dear,” she said. “What happened, doll?”

  “Elijah,” said Emma, and Marisol shot me a look of pity. She reached out, took Emma’s extended hand, and introduced herself. Behind us, Avery came down from the stage. He saw me bawling and looked over at Emma, who mouthed Elijah’s name, and he nodded, understanding.

  “You don’t need him, anyway,” he said. “You’re too good for him, girlfriend.” That only made me cry harder. I could feel the snot running down my nose now, face hot and wet and probably beet red. My skin was taut and dry from the tears. I was a mess. How I had held it together throughout school was beyond me.

  The front door opened, and both Ty and Ed came in, carrying a box of glasses from the storage area. Just what I needed. Ty saw my tear-streaked face and put his box down near the bar counter.

  “Whose ass am I kicking?”

  “Elijah rejected her,” Avery said. When Ty and Ed walked in, Emma’s eyes shot up and didn’t waver. I couldn’t blame her. They were eye-candy. For a moment, I felt guilty that I couldn’t properly introduce them, but I got over it as more tears fell. I was both humiliated and hurt. Rejection was not something I had never handled well.

  “At least you know now, sis,” said Ty, and he smiled as if it was time to get over it and move on with life.

  “Tyler,” Marisol snapped. “She’s hurting. Let her cry.”

  “Yeah,” said Avery. “Haven’t you ever been rejected before, Ty?” He shrugged and kicked the ground with the toe of his shoe. He looked sheepish—caught red-handed.

  “Well—no,” he said. Emma snorted, and Marisol and Avery rolled their eyes. At that moment, Audrey fluttered in from the back. She approached us, saw my tear-stained face, and stopped.

  “Oh,” she said. “What happened?”

  “Elijah rejected her,” said Ed. All at once, Audrey let out her breath, looking relieved.

  “Thank God,” she said. “I thought maybe something happened to Noa—” Six pairs of eyes were on Audrey in an instant. She stopped mid-sentence, her mouth still open. When she realized her mistake, her jaw snapped shut, and she flushed red. “I’m sorry, Liv, I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s okay.” I picked up the juice Marisol offered me and sniffed once more. “He’s a loser, anyway.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Ed said, slapping me on the back.

  I wiped away another tear, praying that was the last of them, at least for the night.

  “Is Noah at home?” Audrey asked.

  Marisol poured her a shot of tequila and tossed it back.

  “Yeah,” I said, wishing I, too, had a drink to ease the pain.

  “Good. We have a show tonight, so I’d prefer if he stayed home.”

  “A show on a Monday?” Emma asked. She had taken it upon herself to get to know the guys since we’d been there.

  “Bachelorette party,” said Avery. He turned to Ty and winked. “My favorite.”

  “I hate them,” Ty said. “The girls always think that since they rented the place out, they can be extra grabby.” He took a seat next to me and grabbed the beer Marisol offered.

  “The money is good,” Audrey pointed out. “So, don’t complain.” She turned to Emma and me. “What’s the plan tonight, girls?”

  “Ice cream and movies,” I said. Nothing sounded good, not this evening, but I’d humor Audrey. Emma was quiet for a moment and then spoke up.

  “Unless—”

  “Unless what?” I snapped. All I wanted to do was crawl under the blanket on my bed and cry and sleep and cry more. Since I couldn’t do that, I was feeling extra touchy.

  “Unless Audrey will let us stay for the show,” said Emma. We both turned toward Audrey skimming through her iPad. She looked up at us, eyebrows raised.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, girls.”

  “You’ve let me stay before,” I pointed out. “Emma won’t tell anybody.”

  “Cross my heart and hope to die,” Emma said.

  Audrey’s gaze flickered to Marisol, who shrugged.

  “They’re good girls, boss,” she said.

  Defeated, Audrey put her hands up, as if to surrender. She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But no booze.”

  “Say, Aud, when are you going to bring that new boy toy of yours over here to meet us?” Avery asked. “What’s his name—Jake?” Audrey flushed, and Emma shot me a pointed look, which I ignored. I had enough drama without adding my aunt and teacher to the mix.

  “Not anytime soon,” she admitted. “He has no idea.” Behind us, a cupboard slammed, and Marisol straightened up.

  “He doesn’t know about the club?” she asked. “He has no idea?”

  “None.”

  “Why is that, doll?” Avery asked. “Are you ashamed of us?”

  “No, of course not.” Flustered, Audrey took another shot. Her cheeks were still burning red, and the alcohol was just making it worse. “I just never know how to approach it—or how he’ll handle it.”

  “You should tell him,” Emma said. Everyone looked at her, and she shrugged. “You guys are dating, right? He deserves to know. Besides, this place is cool.” Audrey took the third shot, slammed the glass down, and sighed.

  “I’m not sure he’ll feel the same way.”

  Emma and I worked on homework as the others prepped the area for a private bachelorette party. I tried not to think too hard about Elijah as I focused on my English essay, but it was difficult not to. Thinking about Elijah brought Jesse into the picture, too, and that was when things got messy. My feelings toward Jesse were confusing. He had been on my mind a lot, but it was difficult to see him as anything more than a friend. After he had hit Elijah, though, my initial impression of a shy, geeky kid had gone down the drain. Now, when I thought of Jesse, it was with admiration—if not something more.

  Emma was beyond excited for the show tonight. We had the whole place to ourselves aside from the group of girls expected to show up about eight. She was squirming in her seat, unable to concentrate on her own homework, much like a kid at Disneyland. The guys were in the back room dressing for the show, and Audrey had vanished again, presumably off panicking over something.

  Just before eight, Malcolm opened the front doors, and a group of ten or eleven girls piled in. As per usual, they were dolled up in tight pants, little catchy tank tops, and knee-high boots. They reeked of perfume and hair product and walked as if each had a wedgie.

  “Classy,” Emma whispered as
a woman with platinum blond hair and enormous hoop earrings leaned past us to order drinks from the bar. I giggled, and the girl shot us a mean look as she waited for her margaritas.

  “You kids look a little young to be at a bar,” she said not kindly.

  “My aunt owns it,” I said. “She said we could stay and watch the show.” The girl rolled her eyes and took her drinks, bored with the conversation as she sashayed back to her friends and deposited their drinks on the glass tabletop.

  “Behave, girls,” said Marisol. “When they’re here, they’re allowed to be as bitchy as they want. They pay good money to be.” As the clock struck eight thirty, the lights dimmed, alerting us that the show was about to start. Emma and I both swiveled our chairs forward as the group of girls got to their feet and swarmed the stage, bubbling with excitement. The entire room went dark then, and a note from the speakers played.

  “This number is my favorite,” Marisol said, leaning forward between Emma and me. “It’s a fan favorite, too.” I turned my gaze back toward the stage as dim lights turned on and the music started. I expected the song about riding cowboys, but it was different this time, one I couldn’t place at first. The small group of women next to the stage screamed. Their shrieks grew, as the music did, like a competition between who could be the loudest. I resisted the urge to put my hands over my ears.

  “Get ready, all you lonely girls, and leave those umbrellas at home…”

  The shrieks grew, piercing my eardrums. Behind me, Marisol gave a hoot. I held off, not sure what I was expecting to happen. Beside me, Emma was bouncing in her seat, her eyes wide with childlike awe.

  “This is so cool!” she shouted. “Your aunt totally rocks, Liv!” Avery appeared on stage then. Emma and I both looked on, shocked, our mouths hanging open. He was sporting a pink, glittery speedo. Audrey had oiled his abs, and his skin glistened under the lights. In one hand, he held a matching umbrella. The cries from the screaming women grew, and Emma laughed. Her face was red with embarrassment, but I knew she was enjoying it. And so was I.

  “If I were a guy—I’d tap that,” she said. Marisol burst into laughter, and the three of us giggled as we watched the women fawn over Avery as he strutted like a male peacock across the stage. In another moment, the curtain lifted, and Ty appeared. He, too, was in a skimpy speedo, but this one was blue. Had the girls been loud before, that was nothing compared to now. Even Emma flushed another shade of red.

  From the speakers, catchy lyrics burst through. “It’s raining men!”

  “I love this song!” Emma screamed. Ed appeared on stage next to Ty in his purple speedo, and all three of the guys popped open their umbrellas. The women down below tried copping a feel, but the guys subtly sidestepped each grab and continued with their number.

  “You girls are looking a bit hot under the collar,” Marisol said, and then laughed.

  Emma and I flushed even deeper.

  “You’re one to talk!” I shouted back. “I see the way you look at Ed.”

  I must have hit a sore spot, because Marisol shot me a look. “Speak of it again and get shanked.” Then, as she turned away, I saw the sadness in her eyes. I was tempted to apologize, but I shut my mouth instead and focused on the guys on stage. Maybe, with time, whatever was going on with them could be fixed.

  It was almost one in the morning by the time the bachelorette party girls filed out of the club, drunk and giggling as they went on their way. The bride-to-be was the drunkest of the lot, and she was sobbing about the guy she would marry as the door closed behind them. Ty, Avery, and Ed emerged from the back when the girls were out of the building. They were dressed in civilian clothes now, but they still looked as good as ever, just tired. Ty plopped down between Emma and me. He was still shiny with sweat, but it made him attractive. There was no doubt Emma had chosen her specimen to fawn over.

  “It was awesome,” she purred, watching him open a bottle of beer. “Sexy.” Ty looked over as if just noticing she was there.

  “Um. Thanks.” For a moment, he stared at her, as if trying to place a familiar face. Then it must have dawned on him she had been there the night he’d found me puking on the lawn, and recognition crossed his features.

  “Em, he has a girlfriend,” I said before either of them could bring up that night.

  Emma glanced at me, daggers in her eyes. “Thanks, Liv,” she snapped.

  Ty chuckled. “Really,” he said. “Thanks. Glad you liked the show.” He looked around her and at me. “How are you feeling, sis?”

  “Better.”

  “Still want me to kick the kid’s ass?”

  “Oh, I think that was taken care of,” Emma said with a smirk. She ignored my pointed glare.

  “It’s nothing,” I mumbled, and put my head down on my folded arms, embarrassed.

  “A friend of mine has the hots for Olivia,” Emma said. “When Elijah blew her off, Jesse took it upon himself to punch the guy out.”

  “No kidding?” Ed said from the stage.

  “No kidding,” Emma confirmed. “It was kind of adorable.”

  “I don’t know if adorable is the word I would use,” I muttered. Ty looked at me. He was smiling.

  “That means he likes you,” he said. “Really, really likes you. Maybe you should give this Jesse kid a chance.”

  “He’s not my type,” I said, and Emma rolled her eyes.

  Audrey emerged from the back a moment later, carrying her coat over one arm and her purse on the other. She stopped in front of Emma and me. “Now that I’ve allowed two teenage girls to be damaged for life, it’s time to go. Em, are your parents going to be upset?”

  “They won’t even notice I’m gone,” Emma mumbled. Audrey didn’t seem to hear her as she hugged Marisol and kissed the guys on the cheek.

  “Good show, gentlemen. I will see you all Wednesday night.”

  “Not tomorrow?” asked Avery.

  “No.” Audrey shrugged on her coat. “Jake will be at the house for dinner. You’re on your own.”

  A chorus of “ooh la la” rose as we bid our goodbyes and followed Audrey out to the Mustang. It was a cold night, threatening rain. Audrey drove toward Emma’s apartment, but we were all too tired to speak. As she pulled over to let Emma out, my friend turned around and looked at Audrey.

  “I know you think I’m just a kid,” she said. “But you should tell Jake—I mean, Mr. Devereaux—about the club.” Then she was gone. There were no cars in the driveway. Her parents must have been out late. Again.

  As we pulled away and headed for home, Audrey spoke up. “Emma is a bit outspoken, isn’t she?”

  “Yes.” I hesitated. “But—do you think she may have a point?”

  Audrey didn’t answer.

  Although I had expected it, I still found it irritating when Elijah ignored me all throughout school the next day. He refused to look in my direction, and when he did by accident, he looked away abruptly. I tried not to feel too smug when I noticed his nose was swollen and an ugly red and purple bruise graced his perfect complexion.

  I kept my eye open for Jesse, though I wasn’t sure why—maybe to thank him, perhaps to yell at him, or perhaps just to hug him. A hug from Jesse sounded nice right now. Really nice. But when Jesse didn’t show up at lunch, I wondered if he, too, was avoiding me. I tried not to look too far into it, though, and just focused on getting through the day. At lunch, as Emma and I waited in line for our food, Mr. Devereaux approached us.

  “Emma,” he said, nodding in her direction. “Olivia.”

  “Hi, Mr. Devereaux,” Emma said. “Nice day outside.” Her tone was too pleasant—sickly sweet, like syrup.

  Mr. Devereaux and I both turned to look out the window to where the rain pounded on the vehicles outside. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and periodic flashes of lightning lit up the parking lot. Mr. Devereaux’s brow furrowed, and he turned back toward me.

  “Olivia, how’s Audrey? I missed her last night.”

  “She’s doing well,” I said, reach
ing for a pudding cup. I had to be careful with what I said. “She was working last night.”

  “Oh,” said Mr. Devereaux. “At the magazine.”

  From the side of my eye, I saw Emma’s head snap up to look at me.

  I cleared my throat and held out an orange to our teacher. “Fruit?”

  “No. Thanks.” Mr. Devereaux grabbed a carton of chocolate milk. “I wanted to ask if you knew what Audrey’s favorite flower is,” he said. “I would love to bring her some for dinner tonight.”

  “I wish I knew,” I said, praying the conversation would end soon. “Maybe roses?”

  “Oh, alright.” Mr. Devereaux smiled and nodded at us. “Have a good lunch, girls.” He walked away, balancing his tray in one hand as he made his way to the teacher’s lounge.

  As soon as he was gone, Emma turned, slack-jawed. “Audrey is so busted,” she said. “I can’t believe he doesn’t know yet.”

  “I know.” My appetite was gone as Emma and I took a seat at our usual table. I liked Mr. Devereaux, and I knew that he was right for Audrey in so many ways—but keeping the club from him was asking for disaster. I hoped she knew what she was doing.

  I finally found Jesse. He was crossing the floor of the empty school gym, toting a duffel bag over his shoulder and a pair of sneakers in one hand. He was heading for the boys’ locker room. I spotted him through the window on my way to the parking lot and knew I had to stop and talk to him. That he had been avoiding me all day bothered me more than it should have, and I hoped he would have a valid explanation for his indifferent attitude.

  “Jesse?” I stepped into the empty gym and dropped my backpack onto the floor. My voice echoed, bouncing off the walls, and Jesse stopped and turned to look at me. He wasn’t wearing his glasses today, and from where I stood, I could finally see how bright and vivid his blue eyes were.

  “Hey, Liv,” he said. He didn’t sound awkward or surprised, which only seemed to anger me more. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay.” I cleared my throat and folded my arms, at a loss for words. “Where are you going?”