by Elena Monroe
As soon as the door closed, all the rage, unwanted tears, and pain erupted. A guttural growl from my closed lips seeped from me, while my fists were so tight it almost hurt, but not as much as him. I pushed everything off the desk in one swoop, needing to damage anything I could. Breathing heavily, I yanked my phone from my jacket pocket and ripped the case off recklessly.
There it was.
Salvation.
Hope.
Courage.
The kind of fix I needed right now. All the things I lacked, all the hope, the salvation, the courage… everything ripped away from me in the last fifteen minutes I could now put back. It was as simple as pouring some powder into the crook of my hand, right between my thumb and pointer finger, and one big inhale.
That’s exactly what I did.
It was almost satisfying just to look at the powder sitting perfectly, teasingly, but there was no contact high. The only contact high I got was from Layla when I was between her legs.
I sucked it in quickly. I took a beat to inhale the serenity of being numb soon and exhaled the bullshit of my two enemies.
I had perfected not looking high while high; it was a talent that served no purpose beyond these moments here. I walked out of the room, touching my cheek where his heavy hand struck me, hoping the pink faded by now.
My eyes caught Layla’s worried expression, and all I was hoping for was that she wasn’t the coddling type. I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t bounce back like that.
Her absence created enough weakness for me to give into demons I kept at bay for a year. I told her I loved her, but that didn’t change who I was. I wasn’t the type to be coddled. I wasn’t going to share my wounds, like some fucking therapy session.
Her hands reached for my arm, squeezing, so I’d know she was there, but she remained silent and tried not to stare at me too long each time she looked up at me. We both knew the ridges in her brows were noticed.
My focus was on Caden’s eyes, which were laser focused on Aspen’s parents. I told Layla I’d be back; really, it was a lie. I knew this look, and it meant trouble. The protective part of me stomped all over my delicate feelings that were thankfully fading.
I looked at the time on my phone, as I leaned against the bar, wondering how much more time the adults in the room needed to kiss each other’s asses. They were passing Hunter around like a savior, when really he was the corruptor.
I turned to the focused Caden and asked, “The bartender cool about giving us drinks?”
Caden shot me a quick glance, not convinced he was even really seeing me. “I don’t know. Find out.”
Caden was saying less than five words, weird. He was a man of many words, not short, curt answers, and not statements like, “I don’t know”.
“What’s your issue? What’s up with the laser focus?”
He stopped pacing with his hands on his hips facing me finally. “Aspen is with Maddison in the stacks. I’m keeping both their parents in this area.”
It didn’t explain his intensity. “Okay, and…?”
Clearly annoyed with me, “You do realize if this goes sideways, we might get something worse than Jekyll and Hyde? He might be worse off.”
He was the only one thinking about this group and each person’s sanity. All of us were thinking of ourselves, contemplating when this nightmare function would be over.
Aspen couldn’t have had better timing in my absence of words. I wouldn’t have known what to say or be the right friend in that situation. He very well could have been crushed by her lack of motivation to forgive him, but that was between them. Whatever happened, we’d hoist him up like we had been.
He walked in front of Maddison without any hints for us to decipher, until we saw their fingers laced together. Caden breathed a labored exhale of relief when slapping his hand down on the bar, ordering a scotch neat.
We were all our true selves in this moment—exactly who we were meant to be.
A smile broke across Caden’s face, like a sudden forest fire, and I think we all could breathe in some relief. No one else had any other worries except Aspen’s tough year and his asking of Maddison’s forgiveness. I had Hunter and Richard to constantly worry about—always ready for the next obstacle. Now Richard was actively on his side. I don’t know what I expected… for him to side with me for once? I assumed dropping a strong word like rape would have pulled back the curtain on the faulty foundation of Hunter.
Caden’s hand hit my back, as he slid a second glass of scotch my way. I didn’t even wait for the cheers or his approving nod before throwing it back. That was one thing about drugs; alcohol was the perfect chaser.
It was clear Hunter being in the same room as Richard was too much. I was overdosing on anxiety instead of the normal substances this time.
I leaned into Caden, “Make sure she gets back to the dorms. I’m out.”
Caden slapped my hand, and his smile faded quickly, before his grip got tighter, not letting me walk away.
“You’re leaving? Dinner is about to start, bro.”
I held my tongue between my teeth, letting the sting distract me. “Both of them in the same room? I’m leaving before I lose it.”
“You really wanna leave her in a room with them?”
He had a point. I watched her greet Maddison, like the angel she was made out to be, and frankly, was, glossing over any involvement she had with the wreck.
Caden was the only one who knew the real Richard. Everyone knew we didn’t get along, but no one knew exactly why. Caden only knew because he witnessed what no one should have. One drunken night we brought girls back to my parent’s place, while they were on vacation, except they weren’t. I lost a week of time, being too high, and got the dates wrong. Richard put me in my place in front of the girls we were trying to impress. Caden saw by pure mistake, and later I was forced to talk about it.
I ordered another drink, just as Aspen’s mom announced we’d be moving upstairs to the makeshift dining hall. It looked like the perfect candlelight dinner in the perfect setting, with the perfect guests. Classic novels lining the rows of off limit books. No one could take them out, but you could be among them. There was no denying his mom’s taste was unmatched for creating ambiance.
I threw back the scotch, before I took Layla’s hand, hoping we could remain silent throughout the rest of the night.
I liked to stew in my misery without company.
It was wishful thinking, when she squeezed my hand, looking too innocent in her red dress with a plunging neckline, teasing her new confidence and sass to match.
I wanted to tease her new confidence the same way by dragging my lips down her exposed glowing skin, pushing the red silk up enough to display some matching panties I could push to the side to get what I really wanted, her, to be in the space I was welcomed—the warm, safe, tight comfort I knew was mine.
I found our names delicately written in cursive at one of the tables near my parents. Caden was close by, since his parents never attended any functions. The rest of the sinners were spread out evenly, in close proximity to their own parents.
Layla leaned into me before we sat down and asked, “Are you okay?”
There wasn’t much point in hiding how I felt from her. She saw through me.
Her sad eyes willed me to spill every feeling I had, and it took a lot of willpower to look away and nod a collected yes.
We both knew she knew me better than I ever I’d admit. She sat down anyways, carefully placing my hand she had held in her lap, just under the hem of the silk, touching her skin. She was distracting me, and it was working. Hunter sat down across from us, next to Caden, purposely. I rolled my eyes and turned my body to face Layla. I pushed my lips against her jaw. “Every time he pisses me off I’m gonna inch my way between these legs.”
She pressed her fingers to her own mouth, trying to not let a labored sigh or moan escape at my dirty game.
Caden looked at Hunter, but my attention was on Layla all over again. Her s
quirming body begged for him to piss me off and invite my touch.
“Don’t worry… he always pisses me off baby,” I whispered to her again, before leaving a kiss on her jawline, where my lips had been.
My father ignored his soup and salad to baby a glass of scotch instead—his drink of choice. “How do you know Hunter, from Florida?”
She swallowed hard, trying to focus as my hand brushed up her inner thigh. “Yes, sir, we went to school together, since pre-kindergarten.”
He didn’t deserve a “sir” or her politeness. This was her punishment too.
Hunter was never welcomed, but his constant ability to barrel his opinion into every conversation didn’t go unnoticed. “We weren’t close until senior year. She inspired the transfer from NYU.”
Hunter was smiling at her, but it was my fingers running along the wetness of her panties that made her smile back. Layla’s hand squeezed my own thigh as she bit her lip. She was trying to signal me she’d had enough, but I hadn’t. He still pissed me off.
My mother’s quiet, soft voice stole my attention and stopped my fingers from making Layla wetter. “Oliver, how is teaching going?” She sliced right through the bullshit and didn’t show one care for the stranger sitting with us.
My fingers couldn’t go on with my mom stealing the attention of the whole table. “Good, still mostly girls.”
“What are you reading?”
I leaned over almost automatically cutting the chicken on Layla’s plate, like she was incapable. I knew her hands would be shaky, and her senses all off balance from my teasing… and now the sudden lack of. I realized, as I cut her chicken, she wasn’t even given a proper knife—still being sheltered from all the sharp edges of the world.
“You’re favorite: Alice in Wonderland.”
My mom’s lips stretched into a full smile at my words. She loved books as much as I did. The library in our home was all her books that filled his office. She always said he wanted to keep parts of her close to him. I saw the truth for what it was; he took everything meaningful away, even her books to make it his space. No one was even allowed in his office. That’s why I would deal havoc there; it was like pissing all over his territory.
She looked up at Layla. “Have you read it Layla, as an adult?”
Her mumbled whisper about being able to cut her own food got cut short, as she looked up in the direction of my mom. “Yes, it’s not my favorite novel, but I can appreciate a theme of growing up and finding your identity.”
I turned to Layla, telling her softly so only she could hear, “It’s her favorite.”
I watched the brave parts of Layla emerge even more as she sat up straighter. “It’s your favorite? May I ask why?”
Richard’s arm was around my mother’s shoulders, like he granted her permission to talk. He controlled everything around him.
My mom was graceful, regardless. “We rarely fall in love as adults, because we see the true value of things more easily. The author didn’t want growing up to change her innocence, so he made it an adventure, a wonderful dream, and it captured her heart to be able to keep both—her innocence and ability to grow up.”
Layla smiled almost as big as my mom, and the whole table was captured by her summary of why she loved the book, and she said, “Well, now I know where he gets it.”
Even dessert concluded with Hunter not getting more than a sentence in edgewise. Everyone praised him for his donation, not for anything else, and I was committed to talking over him. Richard grabbed my arm, making my head jerk in his direction too quickly. “I enjoyed your company tonight, Oliver. Make a donation before you leave.”
He never granted me permission before. I was game for changes. Maybe he saw the same evil I did in Hunter, and this was his way of apologizing.
He handed me a blank check and pen from his blazer, watching me place the paper on the bar and contemplate how much before I asked, “How much did he donate?”
He felt like my father more in this moment than any previous. It was at the cost of his earlier punishment, without which, this moment wouldn’t be happening, and his disdain for me would only continue. His hand squeezed my shoulder in a gentle way I never knew his hands were capable of. He leaned down in my space and said, “That’s my boy. Some friendly competition.”
I wrote a solid, yet ridiculous, figure on the blank line, pleased with myself that it would beat out Hunter’s pay to play. I pushed the check between my fingers almost recklessly with the large sum. We looked at each other one more time silently, before I found Layla with Maddison, gabbing away. I wrapped my arms around her from behind entering a more comfortable circle.
Caden wasn’t tired or exhausted; he was full of energy that was hard to avoid. “Let’s get out of here and get a real drink. Our spot? Still early.”
Aspen looked at Maddison, silently questioning if she wanted to come too, just before Layla grasped both of her hands, “Oh my gosh, yes! Please come? Pretty please?”
She was enamored with Maddison—the new girl with no strings connecting her to me or a one sided friendship she shared with B. The same girl who pretty much knew magic because she vanished from our presence once Hunter transferred in, leaving Layla to depend on my friends. Hayley was never gonna give her a chance, so that was permanently off the table.
Aspen scribbled a check, quickly not wanting to waste another minute here. He pulled out a band of money, all crisp and unused, in a neat stack, handing it to Caden without hesitation.
I was hoping Layla’s mouth would stay quiet until we were alone. I whispered a quick “don’t” in her ear, just to cement my hope.
We all walked away like the hooligans we were, handing our donation checks to the girl at the door, who was holding a gold bowl and taking coat check tickets. We all pitied her position as he dropped our checks into the bowl. We were finally free, but she wasn’t…
Part of me would never be free or forgiven.
I felt like I could breathe once the cold air hit my face and instantly made my cheeks flush the type of pink from being cold instead my typical blushing pink.
Tonight, was a cluster of fucks. I took in information from all corners of the room, hoping to better understand it later in digestion.
Oliver’s hand was warm to the point of hot, and he seemed much more calm than when he saw Hunter arrive hours ago—suspiciously calm, actually… now that I was thinking of it. I watched him have two drinks, nothing more. Maybe two drinks and the combination of his fingers against my panties under the table acts like a Xanax for him?
Caden’s giant Cadillac beeped, as he waved us all to pile in, like a magician performing a magic trick, while hitting his key fob, unlocking the doors. Oliver never obliged direct orders, so I lingered until I had more clarity. Oliver fingered his keys, and the faint jingling was the exact answer I was looking for, shouting above his car, as it sat so low. “We’ll meet you there.”
I forced my gaze down, as a small smile appeared. I knew him as much as he knew me, and something about just that fact made me feel so much love, with a dash of importance.
I figured Aspen wouldn’t be driving, considering Maddison’s presence and their past. What little I knew about Aspen was drenched in his guilt—the same guilt that kept him waiting for her to come back to apologize, the same guilt stopping him from making the same mistake twice.
All night I noticed how timid and shy she was, even around him. It was hard to tell the difference between shy and proper; they were so close in mannerisms—the same mannerisms that kept the innocence label glued to my forehead. But I was evolving in a way that I never had before. I wasn’t holding half of myself back anymore. I had Oliver to thank that I didn’t have to apologize or examine my actions anymore. He made every part of me feel safe.
I was finally free.
And not entirely because of him, but he inspired it.
I looked around, but I didn’t spot Maddison or Aspen trailing behind us. Oliver’s eyes were boring into me, waiting for m
e to get in the car, regardless.
“Where are Aspen and Maddison?”
Oliver laughed, letting his head dip. He was always shocked if I cared about anyone outside of him. Only lifting his head to respond before he knew I’d just ask again, he said, “They’re the only ones who have to say goodbye to mommy and daddy. They’ll meet us there.”
That made sense to me, considering you could easily spot the differences in that library. Everyone was dressed to the nines, but their personalities soaked through anyways, covering nothing up. Caden, Hunter, and I all lacked the poise the other attendees had. We also lacked the obvious: parents. Aspen, Oliver, Maddison, and Hayley all moved comfortably in and out of conversations. They were born and bred into that world.
I was glad it was over. I always felt forced to carry the conversation, because I was simply too polite to allow an awkward silence to swallow us whole.
I watched Oliver stand outside his car, as the door was propped open by his body and his blazer slipped down his arms with a strong tug. The undershirt was white this time—a sheer white that let his tattoo-covered body shine through. I tucked my lips under, licking them inside my mouth, slowly watching him roll up his sleeves, exposing the ink consuming his hands and forearms. He even removed his belt with another strong tug as he tossed the missing pieces into the back seat.
I rubbed my knees together hoping to satisfy the ache he was creating without knowing it.
My eyes were still glued to him. He got comfortable and turned his key over, as a low roar poured from the engine. The vibration made me swallow what little moisture I had in my mouth. He was intoxicating, not toxic, and he knew it when he smiled slyly at me staring.
“You’re terrible…”
He laughed in a way only I knew. It was mine, and I cherished it.
“Me? What did I do?”
He knew; that smile was devious and all-telling.
“You know exactly what you did, mister.”
His hand clutched my thigh over my dress, eliciting a type of sigh mixed with a low moan—somewhere in-between the two. He squeezed my leg as his long fingers buried further between my legs. “The wait is my favorite part.”