by Valentina F.
"You're good. Mark and Ryan will be here in a few. Do you want to wait and sing something else when they get here?"
"Wow! Yes! Of course, I do!" she squeals.
"How old are you?" I ask, killing time with idle conversation.
"Almost nineteen. I'm in my freshman year of English Lit."
"You want something to drink?"
"Just water, thanks."
She's polite, very pretty, she dresses simply, and has a beautiful voice, just what we were looking for.
I bump into Ryan as I'm leaving the room and signal for him to follow me. "She's good, I got her to sing that Beyoncé song and she hit all the notes. Now I'll get her to sing something else."
He nods and takes a beer from the refrigerator. "She hot?" he asks, like he's asking if I'm hungry.
"Definitely." I smile, already a little annoyed.
"Tits?"
"You done?" I snap in irritation, opening the beer he just passed me. Should I give one to Sarah? Nah, better not. She's only eighteen.
"Man, you need to fuck, you’re unbearable like this!"
"Sure! I want this girl to sing with us, so maybe not..."
"Her, some other girl, what does it matter? Get back in the saddle and move on."
As if it were that easy. I'm walking out of the kitchen when the idiot starts talking again. "She's going back to Italy for Christmas next week. Jessica told me she's still in touch with her boyfriend..."
"She's not my girl." I shrug, trying not to let him see that his words are killing me. "She can do what she wants."
"You're always such a jerk! If you want her, go get her, otherwise, get her out of your head for once and for all. You look like a beat up dog."
I punch the wall so hard I immediately feel guilty. These outbursts of mine are getting more frequent and harder to control. "Fuck it, Ryan! Will you all leave me alone? I can't get her back and I can't get her out of my head. We've hardly spoken since her birthday two weeks ago, she's avoiding me like the plague, and fucking the first girl that comes along is not going to help. Is that clear?" I'm so angry, I'm foaming at the mouth.
It's not like with Maddy. I'm not mad with Cat and climbing into bed with the first girl I meet won't help me forget about her.
"Now, please, come and meet Sarah and stop tormenting me. Your girlfriend is bad enough, without you joining in."
I storm out of the kitchen, a beer in one hand and a bottle of water for Sarah in the other. When I get to the tiny studio, she's sitting in front of Ryan’s keyboard playing a simple melody.
She stops when she hears me enter. "Sorry, I just can't resist a keyboard."
"No problem." I smile "Here." I hand her the water and her smile widens even more.
Ryan walks in, introduces himself and they chat, but I'm not listening, my attention is once more focused on the scene outside the window; Blondie still lying blissfully in the sun.
Move on!
It's not that I haven't tried, but I know it's not going to be easy.
I don't want to forget her, I want to hold her.
Mark joins us and we get Sarah to sing the two songs we tried before. Both he and Ryan are enthusiastic and we tell her we'll get back to her in a couple of days.
Mark stands way too close to her and a couple of times I have to shoot him a warning glare. I'd stake my balls on his trying to get her into bed before Christmas and the idea infuriates me. Blondie gets up from the sun-lounger and gathers her things together. It's incredible how my body reacts to her every move without ever losing sight of her. She slips her feet into her flip-flops and goes back into the house.
"We're playing at the Blue Rock tonight. You could come and watch. Our friends will be there and you can stay with them." It's like Mark's the big bad wolf and she's the little lamb about to be gobbled up.
"I know, I come see you every week."
"Perfect, I'll see you there around nine."
"What do you think?" I ask, one second after closing the front door behind me.
"She's definitely hot. Jessica will give me hell."
I wince in irritation. "I want to know what you think of her voice, not her tits!" I point out.
"Her voice is lovely...and so are her tits! That any better?" Ryan teases.
"You know Jessica's my best friend, right? If I catch you fooling around with Sarah, I'll kick your ass!"
"I'm just saying that if she records that song with us then she'll have to come to the five concerts on our Battle of the Bands tour and Jessica will give me hell...because her tits are truly magnificent!"
He bursts out laughing and my asshole brother joins in, doubled over in hysterics. Why do I even bother talking with these two idiots? And they're nothing compared to Kris. When he sets eyes on her, he'll go crazy.
"Shit, guys. She's only eighteen! Can't you control yourselves?"
"Said his majesty after they cut his balls off!" Ryan jokes and I flip him the middle finger, right in the face.
40
"Please, Cat. Come with me!" Erika implores, holding my hands and jumping up and down in front of me. "Thomas is bringing Paul and it's going to be really embarrassing if it's just the three of us."
I roll my eyes. "Last time I saw Paul, he came on to me and, to piss Ben off, I let him think he had a chance. If I come with you tonight, it will look like a foursome and God knows, the last thing I need right now is to complicate my life even more."
"You're young, free, and single, why don’t you want to mingle?"
Is she for real...and am I really single?
"Single?" I exclaim.
"You mean you're still seeing Leo?" She puts her hands on her hips, her face stern.
"Not really, even if I haven't actually told him yet." I shrug and stand up and take a popsicle from the freezer.
"So what's the problem?"
"You know what the problem is. My head's someplace else." As if it wasn't as clear as day.
"I know, girl, but I hate seeing you so sad all the time."
I close my eyes, trying to hold back stinging tears. "He doesn't want anything to do with me and I miss him. I can't help it. I'm not ready to jump back into the dating pool, okay?"
She hugs me from behind and plants a kiss on my cheek. "I know, but I promise, it won't be a date, just a night out with friends, nothing more."
"Yes, but at the Eagles Bay, where the guys are playing tonight. I've been trying to avoid Ben for two weeks and I haven't seen them play since my birthday. I can't bear the idea of seeing him sing, you know what it does to me..." I smile at her, feeling a little more lucid.
"Pretty please. You're leaving in a week and I won't see you for fifteen whole days." She pulls a sweet little face that, damn her, wins me over immediately.
"Okay, okay, but I'm coming in my own car. And tonight will be a disaster and you're going to have to put up with my tears without complaining!" I warn, pointing my finger at her.
She crosses her heart. "I solemnly swear to let you cry on my shoulder and I’ll never mention, even once, that Ben's a jerk and to forget about him because you deserve so much better."
"You don't really think that," I whisper. Ben's not a jerk and he is 'better'. There aren't many guys like him and she knows it.
"No, no, I don't, but you're my friend so I have to say that. I'll insult him...I'll even slap him if it makes you feel better." She hugs me again and I really appreciate her loyalty.
"What time are we leaving?"
"We're meeting at the bar at seven-thirty, that way we can get something to eat before the concert."
I nod and go to my room.
It’s become an almost unconditional reflex; the first thing I do when I enter my room is look over at Ben's. It's more difficult during the day because of the thick screens and the reflection of the sun that partially obscures my view. Not too much, however. I still managed to get front row tickets for the Ben-And-Maddy-Show. But in the evenings, when his light is on and the curtains are open and he's all alone,
that's when things get interesting.
Yet another girl comes out of his house. At least this one, unlike the others, is dressed. I should hate him. I should feel so humiliated it prevents my heart and brain from feeling so bad. I was a complete idiot. For two weeks I've hardly eaten, barely studied, and wallowed in sad songs and he's out there, shamelessly bedding an army of gorgeous girls. How the hell can he be so superficial? Most of all, how the hell can I be such a masochistic fool?
I examine my reflection for thirty minutes, trying to relax my face and perfect my plastic smile. Backstreet Boys' “Incomplete” plays softly from the speakers of my docking station. If Mark walks in right now, the least he’ll do is confiscate my phone and speakers. He can't stand my 'girlie' music anymore. I can't help it if my heart's been broken into a thousand pieces and romantic songs comfort me a little. Perhaps I've gone too far this time. I'm ready to slit my wrists at any moment.
I'm wearing the tiny denim miniskirt I promised I'd never wear again, a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up, and my favorite Prada boots which make me feel good. I'm going to need them tonight. I've covered the dark smudges under my eyes with concealer so they aren't so obvious and I topped up my tan enough to at least look healthy. It doesn't matter if you're falling to pieces inside, the most important thing is how you look, as my grandmother always says.
When we leave the house, everyone takes their own car. I've no intention of getting stuck with them all evening. I'll leave as soon as they finish playing, before Ben can come over to our table and start flirting with whichever sluts are there, ready to hand themselves to him on a silver platter without him even having to ask. It's pathetic, I can't stand watching them any longer.
The club is already full and we have to fight our way to the bar where Thomas and Paul have saved us a seat. Luckily Ron's not here to keep an eye on us, and when Paul hands me a beer, I grab it gratefully, sipping it ecstatically, as if it were the elixir of happiness.
"I haven't seen you around. How are things?" Paul is his usual, kind, chatty self.
"Good. I've got so much work to do and next week I'm going back to Italy for Christmas." Without knowing what’s inside it, I take a bite out of a mini-wrap and my stomach immediately begins to burn; it's as spicy as hell. I swallow down half my beer, hoping it will take the taste away but it only gets worse. "What the hell have I just eaten?"
The look on my face makes all three of them laugh.
"You must be eating Thomas's spicy mini burrito." Paul laughs, passing me his glass of water. Sure, let's keep on swapping germs like it's totally normal.
"Thanks." I hand the glass back and, playing safe, pop a couple of fries in my mouth.
"Are you glad you're going back to Italy? I mean, are you happy to see your boyfriend again?"
I swallow an hysterical laugh. I can't control it or hide the ironic expression on my face. "I'm glad to be going home, but I'm going to break up with my boyfriend and, to be honest, I'm not looking forward to seeing him at all." His smile widens and I start talking again before he can say anything else. "I met someone when I came to Orlando and I've fallen head over heels and, even if things with him can't work, I have to break up with my boyfriend." I shrug and grab my beer again.
"Why can't it work with this guy?" He leans against the bar and looks at me, amused.
"Because..." From the corner of my eye I see Ben walking in and my heart stops. "…because let’s say, he’s more Mr. Wrong than Mr. Right."
Ben's wearing his favorite jeans, ripped at the knees, and a tight white t-shirt. His tousled hair is held back with a thin, black band. He's been wearing his hair longer than usual and, he looks even more gorgeous, if that were possible. His green eyes are shining and the sulky look on his face makes him sexier than ever. Every time I see him pouting like that, I want to throw myself at him and kiss him, just to see him smile.
"Does he know how you feel?" he asks, the exact moment in which Ben arrives to greet Thomas and Erika. Paul doesn't see him because he's standing behind him, but Ben can see us, and the beer clutched in my hands.
"He knows how I feel, but he doesn't care," I say, staring up at Ben, who scowls in response. I look back at Paul and smile. "But it doesn't matter. Like I said, we're just not compatible."
Paul notices a movement behind him and turns around, coming face-to-face with Ben. The bastard is with a girl and I never even noticed. She's petite and beautiful, with long brown, curly hair. It's the same girl I saw leaving his place this afternoon and if he's brought her along tonight it means he's screwing her and wants to take it further because, up to now, he's always turned up alone.
"Hi, man." Paul stands up and gives him a pat on the shoulder, which makes me smirk. Ben hates being touched and can't stand it when people he doesn't even know do it.
"Hi," he replies distractedly. The dark-haired girl he brought with him moves in closer to avoid being crushed by the people pushing past.
"Hi, I'm Paul and this is Cat..." He holds his hand out and introduces himself to the brunette. I don't want to meet her, I don't want to introduce myself and I don't give a shit about her name.
"Hi, Sarah." Her voice is so sugary-sweet it turns my stomach. She shakes hands with Paul then turns all her attention on me, holding out her dainty little hand. I want to flip her the middle finger, but I hold back.
"Hi, nice to meet you."
"You're the Italian girl from the Economics course, right?" she asks.
I nod and sip my beer.
"You and my brother have a couple of classes together. He's had a crush on you since you got here, but he doesn’t even try to get near you because of Mark. He talks about you all the time, Cat, this and Cat, that...when I tell him you were here with a guy he'll die of jealousy." She laughs and I feel my cheeks catch fire. What? "Ethan Fuentes...tall, dark, plays on the college football team?"
I know exactly who he is and it's not true that he doesn’t try to get near me, I find him sitting next to me every lesson. He's the same age as me but it's like he's only going through puberty now. He'd be cute if it weren't for the acne and pimples that make my skin crawl.
"Yeah, I know him. He's cool." No, he isn't. He's childish and silly. How he got into college is a mystery to me.
Sarah leans confidentially into Ben and I want to rip her shiny hair from her head, one at a time. I already hate her. Is that what Ben wants? Someone shallow and superficial?
The sweet sounds of Within Temptation fill the room and I immediately recognize “Forgiven”. It's one of my favorite songs. There's a girl singing on stage and she has the voice of an angel. I hadn't been paying much attention to the music till now, but it always happens when Ben’s in front of me. I know it sounds banal, but when he's there, the rest of the world disappears.
"Let's go!" She snaps to attention at the sound of Ben's voice. Obviously, pretty little Sarah doesn't know how big-headed and arrogant he is. She'll find out soon enough.
Ben and I make eye contact for a couple of seconds without saying anything. He gazes at me intensely, as if he's challenging me to look away first, but I don't. We've tried to pretend everything is okay and behave like adults but there's nothing left between us now, no friendship left to rebuild. We've been too cruel to each other to put the past behind us.
His stare makes me lose my balance, both physical and mental. All I can see in his eyes is resentment and each time they meet mine, it's like a slap in the face.
"See you later." Sarah winks and my...Ben...drags her away.
"You two don't get along too well, do you?" Paul asks, ordering another two beers. I don't even pretend to protest.
I smile and let out an enormous sigh. "Ben and I...we're not compatible," I confess in a whisper and he immediately understands.
"Ouch! So he's the mystery man who captured the heart of the beautiful Italian girl who drives all the guys at UCF wild?"
I laugh out loud. "What does that mean?"
"Come on, don't pretend you don't know
how popular you are on campus. Just the fact you hang out with the Carter boys makes you some kind of star. All the guys want you and you...what on earth do you see in that guy? He thinks he's so hard, he thinks he's some kind of God. You know, Cat? I had you down as a little more sophisticated." He tells me exactly how he feels in no uncertain terms. Kindly, politely, with a smile on his face, but I can still hear the disappointment in his voice.
"Trust me, he's a lot nicer than he lets on. Anyway, I already told you, it can't work between us, so I just have to find a way to get over him. As for all the guys at college falling at my feet, it's all bullshit, but I appreciate the attempt to cheer me up."
Paul laughs and crosses his legs. "Cute, smart, and naive!" He hands me the beer and clinks his bottle of Corona against it.
"I'm driving tonight, so this is the last one," I warn him.
"I promise."
I don't want to be with the others so I'm happy when we decide to stay chatting at the bar instead of going to our usual table. Paul is a pleasant distraction and just being with him makes me feel better. He's funny and a world-class gossip, which makes him even more fun.
The guys walk on stage and Mark gets the crowd going, though he doesn't need to. They're the most popular band in college and attract huge crowds every weekend, at both Eagles Bay and the Blue Rock. I move my stool back for a better view but regret it immediately. I don't want to hear them or see them or cheer them on. It hurts too much.
"Hey, I'm going home now, I'm a little tired."
Paul smiles and nods. "I'll come with you. Can you give me a ride over to the dorm? It's just a couple of blocks away."
He stands up and waves his credit card at one of the waiters.
"How much is the bill?" I ask, digging in my purse for my wallet. As soon as I recognize the opening bars of “I Don't Care” by Apocalyptica, however I drop it.
I can’t believe it! Not again!
That damn song. Cursing, I pick up my wallet and, though I can't help myself, turn toward the stage. The asshole is watching me with that sly smile that breaks my heart, over and over again.