by Kristy Marie
But I didn’t know that Sebastian was entering too. I mean, I should have guessed, since he’s all about that reality life, but he’s been quiet since our last encounter, so I figured he settled down a bit. I know his parents are pushing business school, which he’s passing, but hates.
I toss the loose-leaf paper down and get back to what I came here for—my chair. I glance around the room and don’t see the pretty white wicker lounger my dad bought when I moved in with Aspen.
“Asp?” I holler out. “You find it?”
I hear paper crinkling. “No. But his refrigerator is stupid stocked.”
Oh my gosh. Why is she a bottomless pit all the time? “Are you seriously eating his food?”
“He has those fruit bars I love. Would it be shitty if I grabbed one?”
Ugh. “Yes, Asp. It would. Don’t eat his food.” It might be poisoned or as delicious as I remember. “I’m going to check the bathroom. If I can’t find my chair there, we’ll have to come back another time.”
His poker games usually last a few hours, but lately, he’s been coming home earlier than usual.
“Okay,” Aspen hollers, but she sounds sad.
High-stepping around a couple of shirts on the floor, I push open the bathroom door and flip on the light. And, like he knew I was coming, my chair sits in the tub with a pink bow on the backrest.
“Douche,” I mumble to myself, but I can feel myself smiling. I might want to drown this man but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a good prank. Believe it or not, I’ve missed figuring out ways to piss him off these past couple of months.
“Aspen! It’s in here. Come help me move it.”
I hear her footsteps before I see her. “Huh. I don’t know why I thought it would feel like I needed to bathe in bleach after walking into Bash-hole’s bedroom, but it’s really not that bad,” she muses.
“Yeah,” I agree. “I was shocked at first too.”
Her brows furrow. “What? You’ve been in his house before?”
Oops. “No. I mean, when we first broke in. Come on, hurry so we can get out of here.”
Aspen accepts my somewhat truthful response and comes to stand halfway in the tub. “On three, we’ll lift and walk it out.”
I nod, not even bothering to argue with her plan. One, it’s a solid plan, and two, Aspen is not only the older one of the two of us but also the bossy one.
“One. Two. Three.” We get the chair all of two feet off the porcelain before we meet resistance.
“What the hell?” Aspen says, putting the chair back down. “Where is it stuck?”
Something like defeat churns and settles in my stomach. Of course he wouldn’t make it this easy. Easing to my knees, I lean down and notice that not only is my chair chained to the exposed pipe in his tub, but it’s secured with a combination pad lock.
“Dammit!”
I exhale and try to calm myself when Aspen points in the tub. “Look, there’s a note.”
I snatch it up and read it aloud.
I’m guessing a combination lock is harder than my front door.
Be a good neighbor and fold the clothes in the dryer while you’re here.
Bash
I glance at Aspen, who is hiding a grin behind her hand.
“I hate him,” I say with a straight face.
She nods, schooling her amusement. “Do you think you can pick this lock too?”
I scoff. “Who do you think I am? A career criminal? I don’t know how to figure out the combination.”
I crumble the note in my hand and toss it in his sink. Sebastian won this round; there’s no way I am getting my chair out of here tonight.
“Want me to get Fenn and Bennett to come over?” Aspens suggests. “Maybe they can find something to break the lock.”
I shake my head. “No. This is between me and dick face. I’ll handle it.”
Aspen rises from her squat and gives me a slight squeeze. “We’ll get it back, Vee. In the meantime, you can pull the chair from my room to sit outside.”
It’s a sweet offer. “Thank you, but I’ll be okay for a couple of nights without it. I think it’s supposed to rain anyway.”
I don’t know if it is or not, but I think it makes us both feel better.
“Let’s go before he gets home.” Sebastian and I might play these games with each other but that doesn’t mean he won’t report a break-in, just for shits and giggles.
Aspen nods and heads out. “I’ll make sure the coast is clear.”
I barely muster a smile. “Thanks. I’ll be right behind you.”
When Aspen is gone, I take one final look at my chair. “I will come back for you,” I tell it. “I’ll negotiate with the terrorist. He’ll wish he had never taken you.”
It’s the truth; I feel nothing but pure determination when I march out of the bathroom and back into Sebastian’s bedroom, where I pounce on his bed and snag the pillow I know the diva can’t sleep without.
Yeah, he’s weird and has the sleep habits of an eighty-year-old retiree. I stuff the memory foam under my arm and make my way to Aspen but then I spot his tripod. Since Sebastian lost his cameraman, he’s been filming his videos himself. Yes, they look terrible, but you can’t blame someone for not wanting to work with Bash-hole. He might act like a lazy housecat, but when he has an idea, he’ll film all night until he gets the perfect shot. Just ask his neighbors.
Stuffing his tripod under his bed, between several plastic storage containers, I hurry back to the bathroom and retrieve the note he left for me. I scratch out his shitty comments and write below:
You’re right. I’ll have to come back with my bolt cutters. Sweet dreams, bro.
Vee
Short and simple, just what Sebastian needs in order to understand my message. Having his most prized possession in my hand, I sprint from his room where I find Aspen chest deep in his fridge. “You ready to go?”
She pulls her head out and closes the refrigerator. “I’m ready.”
Her gaze focuses on Sebastian’s precious pillow under my arm. “Was that the best you could steal? His pillow?”
I shrug. “I was in a hurry. Besides, I need something to bargain with.”
Her eyes narrow. I’m not sure if she’s suspicious or tired. “And you think he’ll negotiate for a pillow?”
I grin. I know he will.
University CamFlix Competition Submission
Entry Number: 75
Sebastian and Valentina
First Interview Continued, or also known as that fifteen minutes that I didn’t vomit in Sebastian’s lap
“So this war… Who started it?”
I fight a glare at Sebastian and smile sweetly at Tom. “Sebastian did.” I rub the jerk’s knee in faux affection. He’s sitting so close I feel claustrophobic. “At the time, I didn’t know that crashing my video was his subtle way of flirting.” I grin and revel in watching Sebastian’s smile fall into a frown. “It was so immature it was cute.”
I should have known he wouldn’t take that comment without adding a little payback.
“Oh, Tom,” Sebastian interrupts, pulling me to his chest, squeezing my hip in a silent threat. “Don’t let her fool you. Interrupting her video was a public service. No one should have been subjected—Ow!”
I smile at Tom, sliding my hand out of Sebastian’s shirt, where I’m sure I left a mark on his side. “What he means is that my videos haven’t always been about makeup.”
“Tsk. Tsk. Those rippled hills of ab muscles won’t save you, my little friend.”
I watch as the drop of water trails the length of Sebastian’s chest, dripping down to his belly button. “Ah shit, wrong turn. Now, you’ll die a slow death in those stupid yellow shorts of his.”
The drop of water absorbs into the fabric of his waistband and disappears from sight. “Farewell, my friend. Hell might be hard, tanned and smell like sunscreen and moonshine, but its demonic ruler is quite the dickhead.”
I’m over-caffeinated and
hangry as I watch the chair thief, through the window, slip a t-shirt over his head and fill a glass of water straight from the tap, pausing long enough to pop what looks to be painkillers. It appears our neighborhood hoebag had a rough night and an even rougher morning, considering he pretty much crawled to the kitchen.
A pot of coffee brews while he leans both hips against the counter, waiting while he smashes his temples between his palms. Poor baby. It’s hard staying pretty when you’re trashed and sleep deprived, but somehow, he manages, which is really a shame.
The last time I was hungover I looked like an actual troll, hissing at Aspen when she offered to wash the dirt and leaves out of my hair before I crawled into bed.
I frown at the window, at his perfectly coifed hair and celebrity housewife complexion. He might look like he’s put together on the outside but underneath those ugly shorts is a mess of a man with the personality of a house cat.
Sebastian’s hand drops slowly from his temple and hovers in the air. He’s staring directly at me when he lowers all his fingers but the middle one.
Good morning to you too, jerk.
Being the more mature one, I don’t return the juvenile gesture. I simply put down the binoculars and trade them out for the foreign gray pillow I commandeered last night. Sliding the window up, I hold Sebastian’s precious pillow and dangle it out the window like Michael Jackson did to his baby that one time.
Relax, I’m not really going to drop it. At least not while he still has my chair.
That perfect jawline of his falls in an instant, taking his rude hand gesture with it. I can feel a triumphant grin emerge, but then the bedroom door clicks behind me, startling me and sending the pillow out of my hand and clear across the room, where it lands gracefully in front of my roommate’s pink-painted toes.
“Were you just dangling Bash-hole’s pillow out the window?” Aspen’s knowing gaze volleys between the pillow at her feet and my crouched position by the window sill.
The situation looks bad.
I know this.
But really, how much can Aspen prove with just a brief look? Maybe I slept on the floor? Maybe I was looking for a sock. Maybe—I clear my throat and straighten my spine. “No, of course not. That would be a shitty thing to do.” I cock my head to the side, my eyes wide, feigning hurt. “How could you think such a thing, Asp? I simply dropped my contact and used the pillow as a cushion while I searched for it.”
Lying is not normally my default in stressful situations. I promise. Consider me the girl not taking the high road today. What can I say? Sebastian always brings out my worst qualities.
Aspen nods, her mouth curling into a grin. “I hate when that happens.” Dammit, she knows I’m lying. “Here,” she squats down for the pillow, “let me help you find it.”
“That’s okay.” I wave her off, then stand as she comes closer to the window where our hungover neighbor awaits. “Really, I got it. I’ll just grab a new pair.”
She ignores me and pushes forward to the window. It’s okay, though, I’m not panicked. The demon next door has probably gone to do the Devil’s bidding by now—fingers crossed—and Aspen won’t see anything when she looks out the window.
“Why is Bash-hole naked?” Her gasp pulls me from my thoughts in an instant. “And who gave him that hickey on his ass cheek?”
Two things go through my head in a matter of a millisecond.
One, did he finally change those awful shorts? Two, have women really resorted to sucking on ass cheeks now?
“What?” I try shoving her out of the way, but she stands firm.
“Is ass sucking a new thing?” Aspen continues, her feet planted on the floor. “I mean, I’ve never done it before, have you?”
I roll my eyes. “You’re distracting me. What do you really want?”
Clearly, I need something to do since I’ve resorted to getting my kicks out of knowing Sebastian slept terribly without his pillow last night.
Aspen turns her back to the window, blocking my view. “You’re supposed to be getting ready for the party. Have you been watching Bash-hole this whole time?”
Surely, she doesn’t need an answer. I think the evidence is clear. I’ve been watching the ever-loving shit out of our neighbor for hours. He didn’t get up until two, dammit. I couldn’t leave my room and miss him waking up with a stiff neck and a bad attitude. That would have ruined my whole day.
“Of course you have, why am I even asking?”
Told ya. She knew I was being ridiculous.
“Anyway,” she says on a breath, “I came to make sure you aren’t wearing a t-shirt to Bennett and Drew’s birthday party. I know how you don’t like to show off the girls.”
Okay, so let me explain. It’s not that I mind showing off my boobs or “the girls” as Aspen calls them, but I find that they attract the attention of the stupidest males. Frankly, I don’t have the time or the patience to try and talk to someone while they constantly stare at my tits.
“I plan to wear a swimsuit,” I tell her. “Drew already told me it was a water-themed party.” Technically, it’s slip and slide kickball themed, which is so ridiculous only Drew would think of it.
“Which swimsuit?” Aspen probes, still blocking the window and my view of Bash-hole.
I shrug. “I don’t know. The blue one maybe?”
Aspen’s mouth drops open. “The one that looks like athletic wear?”
My lips flatten in return. “It’s a sporty swim top and shorts. There is nothing wrong with it. Especially since I’ll have to run to play kickball.”
My girls aren’t huge, but they have some bounce to them. Forgive me for not wanting an epic nip slip wearing those triangle tops that are only held together with string.
Aspen glances down at my—you guessed it—flannel pajamas. “You can wear one of mine. I invited Vance to the party and I thought… you know…. You two could…” She does this stupid face where her eyes blink fast and her mouth opens on one side.
“If you mean we could have a seizure together then I’ll pass.”
She really does need to work on her facial expressions.
Her laugh is light and bubbly. “That’s not at all what I meant. I thought you guys could talk. You’ve been at Havemeyer for almost a year and you’ve yet to go on a date. You need to mingle, Vee. Let someone take you out for a change—actually watch a movie on something other than your iPad for goodness sakes. We have theaters, you know.”
Look at her projecting her single girl problems on me.
I take the opportunity and shove her to the side, chancing a glance out the window, where I find Sebastian’s kitchen empty. Sighing, I rake a hand through my hair. I was interested in someone at Havemeyer once, it just didn’t work out.
Turning, I face Aspen and grimace. “Fine. But only this once.”
“Yay!” Her stupid clap forces a smile from me. “Vance will be all growly when he sees you in the bikini I have picked out.”
I don’t kill her joy by falling face first onto the bed. Instead, I let her dash out of the room with the promise of letting her fix my hair.
When she’s out of sight, no longer all up in my business, I slide down the window until my butt hits the floor. Today is going to hell in a designer handbag. I mean, I knew it would be, considering I tossed and turned once I got home from seeking revenge on the neighbor. Without my horror movie and popcorn under the stars, I was left to my own devices, which were as follows:
A shower.
A popsicle.
A quick scroll through my old videos, which resulted in me watching the last clip that I shot with a body cam—the one that never aired.
I lost hours of sleep replaying the video, watching helplessly as my lips pressed against his. His blonde hair had tumbled over his eyes when he pulled back, staring at me in complete and utter shock. And then it all clicked. It was as if I could see him putting the pieces together as he swiped through the layers of makeup on my face. It was a gut punch that left me with
stupid girly tingles I’ve only ever felt around him.
I hate I was sucked into his vortex of charm. That stupid personality of his completely messed up my game. I would have aired that damn video if my guilt and feelings for him didn’t get in the way. But they did, and I lost a crap ton of sponsored ads because of it.
But I just couldn’t do it to him.
Sebastian might be a weasel, but he’s my weasel and, really, him knowing I beat him in our epic war of pranks is payment enough. At least it will be until I can’t make my car payment and end up begging my brother to wire me some money.
The K9 shelter I work for pays minimum wage, and honestly, that’s fine; I don’t do it for the money. Caring for retired service dogs who lost their handlers in battle is what gets me through the week. I would help out for free, but Mason, my dad’s Marine friend and owner of the facility, insists on paying me, so I don’t argue. I do need the money. My dad pays for a lot, but he insisted that his kids know the value of hard work. So my brother and I have always had a job. It’s a great escape from classes and social media. Which, obviously, I need since social media is what got me in this war with Sebastian in the first place.
“Vee!” Aspen shouts through the door. “How do you feel about a thong?”
“I feel like my butt is full from breakfast,” I return.
She chuckles. She knew my answer would be no. “Never hurts to try. One day, I’ll talk you into it.”
Please, she may own a thong, but she’d have to vacation alone in another country to wear it.
With a groan and Aspen’s retreating footsteps, I stand and walk over to the bed and flop down face first like I wanted to earlier. If Drew and Bennett weren’t my best friends and like brothers to me, I’d blow off their party and spend the evening googling how to crack a combination lock.