Stepdork

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Stepdork Page 9

by Murphy, A. E.


  He doesn’t stop glaring at Cam until we’re far enough into the thick of the trees that Cam can’t see us either. We walk toward our campsite silently, using the mini flashlights we brought with us for this reason.

  “Is your hand okay?” I ask quietly after a few more minutes of silence. I was waiting for my heart to stop racing. I was waiting for him to say something.

  “My hand is fine,” he barks, still sounding angry but I don’t think it’s at me.

  “Thank you, for helping me,” I whisper, and he stops to look at me. Light from a nearby campfire of a different group of people illuminates his features.

  “Are you okay?”

  Am I?

  “I think so.” I force a smile. “I didn’t know you could fight.”

  He doesn’t reply to that, just shakes his head and then looks up at the sky. The stars are beautiful tonight.

  “How did you know where I was?” I ask softly, bringing his eyes back to me. “You looked busy when I left you.”

  His gaze darkens and I wonder if he’s going to answer. When he does, his words have my heart thundering in my throat again for an entirely different reason this time.

  “I followed you.”

  Gulp. “Why?”

  He turns away and takes my hand in his, an intimate yet comforting gesture. His words keep swinging back and forth in my mind but I don’t ask again to have him clarify. He was likely just being brotherly. We walk back to our campsite like this and he steals a bottle of Schnapps from my tent as I light the fire.

  I hope the others are okay at the party. I know they won’t split up like we have. Cella probably just assumes I’ve stayed with Cam or something.

  Fucking Cam.

  What a scumbag.

  “Want some?” Travis asks, holding the bottle out to me.

  I shake my head. “No, thank you.” The fire takes and the flames crackle and flicker in the center of the damp rocks.

  It’s completely silent here. We pitched in the perfect spot.

  Travis takes another swig of the drink. We don’t talk and the silence becomes awkward.

  “Have you had fun?” I question as Travis takes the foldable seat opposite me.

  He stares at me for the longest time. His eyes flickering with so many emotions. Confusion, hurt, anger…

  “What is it?” I ask, wondering why he’s so silent toward me now. “Is this because of Cam?”

  He shakes his head. “No. That wasn’t your fault.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  “No, of course not,” he snaps. “That was his fault. You did nothing wrong. Except maybe going into the woods with a stranger… but it is whatever.” He takes a lengthy pull of the bottle and then screws the lid back on. “I’m going to pee and then I’m going to sleep this night off.” He levels me with a stern look. “You don’t go anywhere alone. Understood?”

  “I don’t think he’s coming back, Travis.”

  “I don’t care.” When he stands, he sways a little making me laugh.

  “Lightweight.”

  A middle finger appears over his shoulder making me laugh even harder.

  I brush my teeth, braid my hair, and climb into my Winnie The Pooh onesie. Then I slip into my sleeping bag and check my phone. There’s not much of a signal out here but there’s enough of one for me to receive a message from Dad.

  Dad: Try not to break Travis, please. We’d like him back in one piece.

  Raven: Too late.

  Another message comes through, this one from Travis and it stops my beating heart.

  Travis: I’m sorry.

  Raven: For what?

  Travis: For not getting to know you sooner.

  He is definitely drunk. I think I like drunk Travis.

  Raven: Me too, Stepdork. <3

  “There’s a girl in our tent,” Preston hisses as I crawl into the small space, shoving Duncan’s legs out of the way so I can get close to Travis who is still sleeping.

  “You’re dreaming, Babyface,” I say softly and he blinks sleepily, turns over, and lets out a breath.

  What an idiot. I love him for it though. He’s the smartest moron I know.

  I prod Travis’ shoulder which is peeking out of the top of his sleeping bag. He’s on his back, his lips are parted, his hair has fallen off his face. I never noticed how handsome he was before but how could I? I can usually only ever see from his nose down.

  “Psst, Trav.” I prod him again but get no response. So of course, me being me, I wet my finger and stick it in his ear.

  “You didn’t just do that,” he grumbles, sounding tired and definitely grumpy.

  Giggling quietly, I wipe my finger on the shiny surface of his sleeping bag and look down at my wet-willied victim.

  His sleepy eyes peer at me with zero amusement.

  “Happy birthday,” I whisper, holding up a small, foil-wrapped gift.

  Smiling, he moves to sit up and tentatively holds the gift in his hands. “You got me a present?”

  “No, you’re dreaming.” Eye roll. “Open it!”

  He rips through the paper and reveals the box that contains, in my opinion, the sexiest-smelling aftershave in the entire world.

  He laughs, a pleasant sound that makes me feel good. “Are you trying to say I smell?”

  “Not at all.” I tap the plastic wrapping around the black and gold box. “I thought I’d help you get laid, and all women love a man that wears sexy-smelling aftershave.”

  “On point,” Duncan murmurs sleepily, his face is fully hidden by the sleeping bag hood.

  We ignore him.

  “But after seeing you with those girls last night I realize your game is strong enough without it. Regardless…” I rip open the plastic and pull out the car-shaped frosted glass bottle from within. “It’s always good to have a pheromone-laced aftershave in your pulling arsenal.”

  I spray it on his neck and use it as an excuse to get closer. Leaning forward, I touch my nose to the side of his throat and inhale slowly. Wow. It smells so good.

  “That does smell good,” I whisper, savoring the spicy, sweet scent that now clings to his skin.

  He shivers and I wonder if he’s cold. Before I can ask, he mutters, “Thank you. I love it.”

  “It smells like a CK ad in here,” Duncan groans but we ignore him again.

  “Good.” I kiss his bristled cheek. “I’ll make breakfast. Happy birthday, Travis.”

  “I knew I wasn’t dreaming,” I hear Preston say as I crawl out of the tent and zip it closed behind me.

  “I can’t believe you fell for that,” Duncan mumbles and I meet Molly and Bris around the campfire which is burning again.

  “Smells good though.”

  “Let me see that, Travis.”

  They saw me go in, so they don’t question me leaving.

  “Did he like it?” Molly asks.

  I nod. “Duh. I’ve got amazing taste.”

  When Travis exits less than five minutes later, Cella walks over to him and sniffs at his neck. He stiffens and gives me a look as though begging me to help him. Us girls find it hilarious and secretly I find it adorable too.

  “Yep, that really does smell great.” Cella walks back over to me and sits on Molly’s knee who doesn’t complain. We’re all close like that. She looks at me as I hand everybody their breakfast when Travis returns and the other two exit the tent. “What happened to you last night? Did you bump uglies with Cam?”

  “That preppy college guy with the dirty-blonde hair?” Bris asks and I should have known she’d have gotten to know basically every guy there.

  “No. We parted ways. I got tired.” It’s obviously a lie and because of it Travis’ eyes fly to mine as though he can’t believe I didn’t say anything.

  I shake my head discreetly, imploring him to keep it zipped. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to be a victim. What’s done is done.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” Duncan says around a mouthful of breakfast scramble. “Are there lefto
vers?”

  “In the pot,” I reply and stand now that I’ve finished my own. “One of you can handle cleanup. I’m going to get dressed.”

  “What are we doing today before we head back?” Cella asks nobody in particular and I leave them to decide as I make myself presentable.

  I got roped into going dress shopping with Shonda, and in all honesty, I’m really enjoying myself.

  I sit and drink coffee as her best friend and maid of honor helps her in and out of dresses behind a curtain in the store.

  She looks gorgeous in everything and her smile is infectious.

  Still, I check my phone every chance I get. I wouldn’t be a normal teenage girl if I didn’t.

  It has been three weeks since Stepdork’s birthday and to say we’ve been getting along would be an understatement. He’s likely the first person I want to hang out with these days. We are always doing homework, watching stupid YouTube videos on his pull-down screen, walking Preston’s dog while Preston was on vacation last week, going to the beach together to get ice cream.

  The more time I spend with him the more I like him and thus far it has been entirely platonic.

  So why do I light on fire whenever we sit next to each other on his bed? Why do I feel his heat shoot straight to my groin? Why do I make it a point to hug him every chance I get?

  I’d like to say it’s sisterly but I don’t think it is.

  Travis: Your dad is trying to teach me how to fish.

  Raven: But… you already know how to fish?? Didn’t Duncan’s dad teach the three of you last summer?

  Travis: I don’t have the heart to tell him he’s doing it all wrong.

  I laugh out loud, unable to stop myself and Shonda and Chloe both look at me expectantly.

  “Sorry. Not for adult eyes.”

  Shonda quirks a brow and Chloe snickers but they don’t say anything else.

  Raven: I’m laughing in the middle of a bridal store. Trade places?

  Travis: I wish you could trade places with your dad. His shorts don’t fit right. If my ass crack ever gets this hairy, make me wax it or something.

  Raven: What makes you think I’ll be looking at your ass?

  He doesn’t reply by the time Shonda has tried on three more dresses so I ask a different question.

  Raven: How goes it with you and Sierra?

  Still no reply. He must be busy.

  When we arrive home, exhausted after a long day of wedding planning, I’m particularly surprised to find Travis and my dad grilling some colorful-looking fish.

  I raise an eyebrow at Travis as he approaches me at the same time that my dad declares, “Look what we caught.”

  “Oh wow!” Shonda looks so impressed. She kisses my dad’s cheek and then her son’s.

  I, not being a gullible twit, head to the trash and find the plastic casing for the fish with the logo of the place they bought them from.

  I wave the evidence at my dad.

  “Hook, line, and sinker,” I say and Travis bursts out laughing.

  My dad looks mortified and Shonda, bless her heart, simply pats his cheek and whispers, “Next time, baby.”

  “I disown you,” Dad tells me which only makes Travis laugh harder. “Did you ladies have a good day today?”

  “I found my dress,” I say, looking at Shonda. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “My baby is going to look like an angel,” Dad announces and spins me around until I slap his shoulder to make him stop.

  As soon as he releases me he moves to Shonda and they start dancing around the grill to the music that is filtering through the open kitchen window and sliding door.

  I roll my eyes to Travis and nod for him to follow. We grab his new Dungeon Quest figures and take them out to the garden to paint them before dinner is served.

  What an end to a perfect week.

  * * *

  Travis and his merry band of dorks join us at lunch in school to get the latest gossip as told by Molly. The girl that sees all, hears all, but gets involved in none.

  I’m surprised when Travis stands after eating and joins Sierra at her table. He mentioned they were getting closer but not this close. I was wondering why his aftershave smelled extra-strong this morning. At least he likes it.

  I might throw it in the garbage when he’s not looking.

  “What’s that look for?” Cella asks me and it draws the attention of the others at the table.

  “Huh?” I try to play it cool and act like I wasn’t just scowling at the back of Sierra’s pretty, blonde head. “I was daydreaming.”

  “Uh-huh,” Cella mutters, sounding like she doesn’t believe me in the slightest.

  Of course, as soon as we leave the hall and ditch the others so she can smoke, she corners me about it. “Okay, what’s the deal with you and Stepdork?”

  “Huh?” I use the same dumb technique I used earlier.

  “You looked so jealous when he was talking to the science geek.”

  “She’s a math geek,” I correct and her lips quirk knowingly. Her look annoys me, it makes me feel defensive. “Nothing is going on! Honest. I just… she’s just not good enough for him. She’s too whiny.”

  “Too whiny?” Cella’s brown eyes narrow and her cocoa arms cross over her chest. “You’d tell me wouldn’t you? If you were digging him?”

  I think back to the kiss Travis and I shared that I never told her about, and guilt wrecks me. I want to tell her now, but I’m worried she wouldn’t understand. She’d think I like him and push me to do something about it but that would complicate everything.

  Travis will never like me like that. He sees me as a friend, a confidante, a buddy, a stepsister. Since that kiss he hasn’t made any obvious moves to show me he’s interested, and it would complicate shit anyway.

  Shonda and Dad would never leave us alone again. It would cause so much trouble at home.

  “I’ll tell you if anything changes,” I lie. If anything changes, I’ll never tell a soul.

  “You better, that’s too saucy to keep to yourself.”

  I roll my eyes and step back when she lights her cigarette by her car. “How’s your love life while we’re on topic?”

  “Nonexistent. I’m not doing the long-distance shit. I’m saving myself now for my college dream-guy.” Her eyes light up with excitement. “Have you put anymore thought into what the girls and I suggested?”

  We’ve all applied to NYC, the plan was to go together, live together, graduate together. But it’s such a long way from home. It’s on the other side of the country. That thought terrifies me.

  “I love the idea, I just wish it wasn’t so far away.”

  “Me too, that’s going to be tough. But it’s the only place that’s decent that has every course we all want to do.” She inhales a long pull of smoke and releases it through her nose like a dragon. “Any news on your major?”

  “Nope. Still thinking about it.”

  “Well, at least your GPA is up.”

  I smile. “Thanks to the dork squad.”

  “I’m so glad we’re friends with them. Preston helps me with my work any time I ask. Such good guys.”

  “Yeah, and they don’t expect blowjobs in return.”

  She laughs loudly. “I might give him one anyway, put him out of his misery before he goes to university.”

  “I don’t want to know if you do,” I say, raising my hands defensively.

  “I’d blow his mind.”

  “You’d blow something,” I mutter, and she finally finishes her cigarette. She stubs it on the ground and tosses the remains in the bin on our way back into school.

  “Come with me to the locker rooms?”

  “Why?” she asks, looking at the rose-gold smart watch on her wrist.

  “I need to take my clothes home to be cleaned.”

  She groans but follows me anyway.

  “If I follow you to smoke, you gotta follow me across campus.”

  She groans again but it’s lighthearted and fun.

>   We head that way, arm in arm, queens of the school, queens of our lives.

  Something that changes the second we enter the empty girls’ locker room and round the eight-foot-high lockers to reach my own.

  My brain doesn’t process it, not even as Cella screams.

  Feet. Legs. Hanging. Rope. Not rope. Cord.

  Cella screams, and screams, and screams, until my ears stop working along with the rest of me.

  I stare. I can’t move. I’m paralyzed to the spot.

  He’s shaking. He’s still alive.

  “HELP!” Cella screams, but I’m already grabbing his shaking legs and lifting. Taking the weight off the cord.

  I don’t remember moving.

  I want to vomit to erase his purple face from memory. I want to back out of this fucking locker room and never enter.

  He was hanging there, scraping at the cord with his fingers. A bench has been kicked over. He really meant to do it.

  He didn’t want anyone to find him. The girls’ locker room is always empty at this time.

  I was meant to find him.

  Why?

  Why me?

  I struggle to hold his weight by his waist but I don’t let go, not until the locker room is full of people and they’ve cut him down.

  “You did amazing,” I’m told by a teacher I recognize but can’t name.

  “So brave.”

  “Quick thinking.”

  “Amazing.”

  “A hero.”

  I’m hugged, patted, congratulated.

  Meanwhile, Brett, somebody I know and care about, is being taken away by paramedics on a stretcher.

  Time is blurring. I don’t know what’s going on anymore, or how long it has been since I stepped into the locker room.

  He tried to kill himself. He actually tried to kill himself. I didn’t even know he was depressed, or suffering. I see him all the time and I didn’t even notice.

  Dad comes to get me after the school counselor and the principal lock me in an office until he can get here.

 

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