Wrong Place, Right Time

Home > Other > Wrong Place, Right Time > Page 5
Wrong Place, Right Time Page 5

by Mallory Lopez


  8

  –– Amelia ––

  I can't believe he said yes. At least something decent is going to come out of this mega-disaster. If I think about the accident too much I'll start crying again. It was the scariest thing that's ever happened to me. Not to mention my poor car. I have no idea what I'm going to do without it. I need it to get to work and I need it for when I go back to Portland for school in the fall. I feel my eyes begin to pool and my nose start to tingle like I'm about to sneeze. I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes.

  "What's wrong? I thought you were thrilled at the idea of dating me," he cheekily comments. "No, the idea of fake dating me," he quickly corrects.

  I look up and tell him, "No, I'm thrilled at the idea of getting back at my parents and being free to date anybody I want without them being so judgmental."

  "Right, because I'm such a terrible person," he responds flatly.

  "I never said that. You're just not the type of person my parents want their daughter to date because they’re so conservative. Not to mention judgmental and prying."

  "Great. I can't wait to meet to them," he sarcastically counters. "Can we just discuss the terms of this little agreement that is, for the record, a terrible idea."

  "It's not a terrible idea. We just need a backstory. Let me think for a second." My brain is all muddied and my entire body is starting to feel even fuzzier than it was before. My eyes start to get heavy all of a sudden.

  "Hey! Wake up! We have to figure this out before–"

  His voice fades out and everything disappears.

  9

  –– Todd ––

  Unbelievable. Not two seconds after she passes the hell out, her parents show up. They rushed in here, her mother sobbing, like Amelia was about to die. The nurse followed them in and gave them the run-down of her injuries, explaining that since the adrenaline was starting to wear off, Amelia was in more pain than when she first arrived. The nurse had given her more medicine, which explains why she fell asleep.

  Now, nearly an hour later, they're still sitting here and I have yet to say anything to them. In fact, they've barely looked at me. It makes sense, they probably have no idea what happened or that it involved me. I rest my eyes for a few minutes and I hear a woman’s moan from beside me. The sound makes my dick twitch and I'm about to let out a moan to match hers but I quickly open my eyes and remember where I am and that the moan was from Amelia. I look over at her and her eyes flicker open. Here we go.

  "Sweetie? Amelia? Can you hear us?" Her mom asks like she's been comatose for days.

  Amelia groggily responds, "Mmhm. Hi."

  "Honey, what happened?" Her dad asks.

  "Um...I need water," she manages to crackle out. Her mom jumps up to fill a cup on a tray nearby. If it was my mom, she would've just yelled something like, "Get it yourself! You're not crippled!" Then again, my mom wouldn't have even been around to snap at me like that. Amelia’s mom holds the cup up to Amelia’s lips and she carefully takes a sip.

  "Is that okay now?" Her mom asks and Amelia nods.

  "Um, I just got in an accident. I, um, wasn't paying close attention and it was dark and, um, there was a glare and I thought something jumped out so I swerved and lost control and hit the tree."

  It's not a very convincing story but her parents eat it up anyway.

  "Oh, honey, thank the Lord you're okay. God was with you. He saved you," her mom tells her while her dad nods.

  "Um, yeah. Thankfully Todd was there, too. He helped get me out of the car and called the ambulance and everything." She looks over at me and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to smile and wave or just look solemn. I mix the two and force a humble grin that probably makes me look like an idiot. Her parents look back at me with their mouths hanging open.

  "Him?" Her mom points at me. "He's with you?"

  Her dad looks at me with a rage I'm used to seeing on my dad which means it can't be good.

  "This kid?" Her dad asks in a not-so-subtle Boston accent, which makes my blood pressure rise. This could be way more than I asked for. Or didn't ask for. Way more than I thought I would be pressured into.

  "Uh, yeah, uh, hi Mister..." I pause and panic when I realize that I don't know Amelia's last name. Shit. "Uh..."

  "I'm sorry!" Amelia pipes up. "Todd this is my father McCormick Baldwin and my mother, Christine Baldwin. Mom, Dad, this is Todd Bartlett."

  I give them a quaint nod and short wave. "I would come over and shake your hand, but I'm pretty sore."

  "Yeah, sure, kid. Don't worry about it," her dad tells me in his intimidating accent. "So, uh," he scratches his chin, "why were you with my daughter and why didn't I know about it?"

  My jaw nearly drops on the floor, I have no idea what to say. Something tells me that nothing I could say would make him any less upset than he already is.

  "Are you going to tell me, kid? Or are you just going to sit there and stare?"

  "Um..."

  "Dad!" Amelia quickly responds when I don't. "He's..." Oh, here we go...the big reveal. "He's...my b-boyfriend."

  I swear to God everything freezes and a chill radiating from Mr. Boston himself fills the room. If I thought he was upset before, I was wrong. He's mad now. He stands and points at me.

  Oh shit.

  "You're dating my daughter?" He asks, and it took me a second to understand that daughtuh must mean daughter in Bostonian. "You're her boyfriend? You're her boyfriend, huh?"

  I don't even try to hide my panic. I just nod shortly.

  "Dad, it's okay," Amelia says, trying to calm him down.

  "No, it's not. You were with this kid and you got distracted and crashed. No. You're not seeing this kid anymore." He’s looking at Amelia but shaking his finger "no" in my direction.

  "Come on, Dad, he's my boyfriend and he saved me. It wasn't his fault. I wouldn't have been able to reach my phone to call 911 or even get out of the car if it wasn't for him," she reasons. You can tell he has a little soft spot for her as he relaxes very subtly as she continues to talk. She looks at me with sparkling eyes and a small smile. I find myself grinning back at her and not being able to look away from her playful eyes.

  "No. I don't like it," he says firmly with his hands on his hips. We break eye contact and I shake my head. That second Vicodin that I talked the nurse into giving me must really be kicking in. Both of us being drugged up is the only reason we had that chick flick moment. We hate each other. There’s no other possible explanation.

  The nurse walks in at the perfect time. I love it when they do that. She flips quickly through a clipboard of papers. "Okay, Amelia, all of your paperwork is in order. The doctor has given you two prescriptions: one to help with the pain, and one for a cream for the airbag burn. You can get changed out of that gown, get your discharge papers from the nurse outside at the counter, and then you are free to go!"

  We all take a sigh of relief. Then Amelia looks up at the nurse. "What about him?" She looks in my direction.

  "Oh, Todd has been good to go for a couple of hours now, but he insisted on staying," she announces and then winks at me. Her dad gives me the stink eye. I feel my face heat up briefly. I was really hoping Amelia would never know I stayed with her willingly, and not because I had to. It’s not like I could’ve just abandoned her here anyway. I’m not a monster.

  "Well, thank you, Todd. That was very kind of you," Mrs. Baldwin tells me, tight lipped like she's forcing it out of herself. "This is a family matter now, though, so we'll be leaving. Amelia, dear, get dressed in the bathroom. We’re going to get a head start on the paperwork. We’ll meet you in the lobby.” She looks to Todd and adds, “God bless."

  Amelia is already standing, still in her two hospital gowns, and I feel my lips curl into a grin, remembering her sweet, sexy ass when she walked from the bathroom. Her parents make their way toward the door but Amelia stops them.

  "Wait, we have to take Todd. He needs a ride home."

  Her dad huffs loudly and stalks out the door, s
haking his head and mumbling. Her mom very quietly groans. She looks at Amelia like she's a kid asking for candy at the grocery store.

  "He has broken ribs, we can't just leave him here. Not to mention it's super late. The Catholic thing would be to give him a ride and help him since he helped me." Her mom rolls her eyes and nods her head as she walks out the door to join Mr. Baldwin. Amelia then looks at me standing in my hospital gown.

  Since we’re alone, I decide to rip off my gown leaving me only in my black boxer briefs. The look on Amelia's face is priceless.

  10

  –– Amelia ––

  Oh. My. God. I turn around for one second and the next thing I know, Todd Bartlett is standing there in nothing but his underwear. I'm certain my jaw is on the floor, but I've honestly never seen this naked of a man standing this close to me. After I take in the perfect outlines of his abs before the v-shape of his hips draws my eyes down into an area that I stare at for only a second before I look back up at his face. How does a creature so beautiful exist? He's like freaking Hercules. I have no words.

  His stupid cocky grin reappears for the first time in hours, and I snap back to reality. I roll my eyes, shake my head, and turn to go get changed in the privacy of the bathroom. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reciprocated show.

  11

  –– Todd ––

  "Get dressed. My parents might come back in." She glances to the door, then back over at me. "Isn't your torso supposed to be wrapped like mine?"

  "Yeah, I took it off. It felt too tight," I explain.

  "It's supposed to feel like that! Ask the nurse to redo it!" She huffs. It's actually kind of cute that she cares.

  "She gave me a couple to take home so I'll just do it myself later," I tell her. I grab my shirt from the nearby chair, and as I whip it over my head I groan loudly. "It hurts. I need help." I lower the shirt back down, but it’s stuck with one arm in it and my head sticking out. She nods her head and starts to shyly inch toward me as I carefully walk to her. She grabs the extra wrap that's sitting on my bed. "Amelia, you don't have to do that. I told you–"

  "Shut up" she quips.

  Arguing with her at this point is worthless. I'm still coming down from the drugs, and I just want to get out of this place and get home so I can sleep in peace. I've had enough judgmental stares for one night.

  She hesitates, and it's obvious that she doesn't want to get too close to me. I can see her hand trembling, as she untangles the wrap. I feel a smile creeping into the corners of my mouth, but I fight it back. In my drugged-up state, her self-consciousness is pretty damn adorable. And a little bit sexy, if I'm being honest. She reaches her arms around me and winces.

  "Sweet Cheeks, if you're going to do that without hurting yourself you need to be closer to me. It looks like you're giving me an ‘ass out’ hug." I take a half step toward her so our chests are practically touching. She says nothing, but nods her head and turns a light shade of pink. I grin. I lift my arms as much as I can before it starts to hurt. She wraps her arms around me once more, only this time I can feel that her breath is uneven. Every time she moves the wrap around my chest I can feel her warm, jagged breath hit my neck, right in the crook of my collar bone.

  My eyelids get heavy, and her warm breath takes me to a place where she's on top of me, riding me like she was born to be mine. I can picture it so clearly: her tits bouncing up and down, her long brown hair tickling my chest, the look on her face as she arches her back to push herself deeper on my–

  "Todd, wake up!" I feel the rough tug of my head being pushed through the neck of my t-shirt. I open my eyes to find Amelia's brown eyes looking back at me, brimming with anger. She's angry all right, but I don't know why. She seems to always be angry at me. Angry and blushing. I feel a throbbing ache and I look down.

  "Oh shit." There's a good size tent in my boxer briefs. "Um...if it makes you feel any better I was imagining your pus–"

  "Todd! Shut up!" She whacks my stomach, and I let out a near scream. I lean back on the bed, I swear to God, about to puke.

  "Oh my gosh! Oh, Todd, I'm so sorry! It was an accident, I swear!" I feel her small hand on my back as I brace myself on the bed.

  "Don't touch me," I warn her. If hitting me wasn’t a boner killer, I don’t know what is. She removes her hand immediately. "Leave me alone. You hear me? I just want you to go away." My voice is hard, but my back is still turned away from her.

  "Todd, I'm s-so sorry," her voice cracks. "You were being a perv, and it was just a gut reaction. I didn't mean to hurt you like that." I can tell before even turning around that she is about to cry. I sigh and slowly turn to face her, and sure enough, those big, brown eyes are all welled up.

  "Well, you did and you can go now. This ‘perv’––I snark, pointing at myself––can figure out how to get home on his own. We had an accident. My ribs are cracked, I’m in pain, and right now I don't want to see you or your judgmental fucking family for a long, long time. So, Sweet Cheeks, for the last time, get out."

  Her bottom lip trembles, a sob escapes her mouth, and tears start to stream down her cheeks. In this moment, I know for a fact that my heart is made of stone, because I don't feel a goddamn thing. I’m certainly not apologetic for making her cry. At least, that’s what I’ve managed to convince myself.

  I groan, and release Becky's hair after a monumental blow job. It's been a whole week, and I’m still in too much pain to have sex. Becky pouts, getting up off her knees.

  "Are you sure you’re not up for sex? It's been too long," she complains. "I could be on top,” she purrs. “I’ll even do all the work…”

  Truthfully, I'm getting bored with her. Her car was good to go a few days ago, and I'm not really sure why she's still hanging around. I'm afraid to ask, because I don't have a good feeling about it.

  "Nah, it hurts too much. Too much pressure." I stand up to walk to the bathroom of that familiar room in The Oregonian that she is still occupying.

  She lets out an offended gasp. "Ugh, are you calling me fat?"

  "No," I yell quickly, then turn the shower on so I don't have to continue the conversation. Luckily, she doesn't follow me in.

  I soak my head under the soothing hot water. My hair is getting longer than I usually like it, but I've been too lazy to get it cut. As a matter of fact, since the accident I've been pretty worthless. I haven't worked on my car at all, I haven't put in extra hours when Roger at the shop asks me to, and I haven't had sex with Becky (or anyone else). All I've done is work the bare minimum of hours at work, let Becky blow me, and then go home and drink until I pass out.

  I could blame it on the fact that, even though I’m healing, my body still aches, but that’s not really why I feel shitty. I hate admitting I was wrong, but it's the only explanation I can think of as to why I feel so depressed and...just shitty. I've never felt shitty over a girl no matter how heartbroken I left her. I'm not proud of it; it's just a fact.

  I haven't seen or talked to Amelia in a week. Every time I think about her, I feel like the scummiest human alive. I tried for days to convince myself that I didn’t care about what an asshole I was to her at the hospital but the guilt just kept coming back. I wonder if she's okay. I wonder if she's back to work yet. I wonder what she told her parents about me, and why I've disappeared. I wonder if she hates me. For every one thing I wonder about Amelia, I take a shot of whiskey. For every thirty minutes I spend thinking how much I deserved to be hit by her, I drink a beer. My guilt about Amelia has become a drinking game. And I play the game. Every. Single. Night.

  "Baby, what's taking so long? I was thinking we could go get dinner." Becky yells through the bathroom door.

  I shake my head out of the fog of my thoughts. When it comes to Amelia, all of my thoughts are foggy and confusing. I get out of the shower, and as I dry myself off I change the subject, pretending I hadn’t heard her suggestion. "Hey, how's your car running?"

  "Oh!" She comes bubbling through the bathroom door. Yea
h, bubbling. Everywhere she goes, she's bubbling. "It's perfect!"

  "Good, good. When were you thinking of ditching this place?" I ask casually while throwing my jeans on. I've been wanting to ask her that for the last few days, but I didn't want to get hit by a woman twice in a week.

  "Aw, are you trying to get rid of me already?" She coos. She wraps her arms around me from behind. I tense up hoping she doesn't squeeze. She doesn't. Her hands lower down into my pants, and she seductively grabs me. I let out a hiss when she licks under my ear. "You're getting hard for me, I just grunt and close my eyes. I don't open them until my pants are off, and I blow my load all over the bathroom sink. She then says, "I've decided to stay with my auntie for a while. She actually lives here in town and says I can stay as long as I want. Isn’t that crazy? I haven’t been here since I was a kid. I didn’t even remember this is where she lived! It works out perfectly.”

  I run out of there as if my pants were on fire.

  I can't ride my bike so I've been bumming rides, taking the bus, but mostly just walking everywhere. It takes forever––Cayden Springs isn't a city meant for walking. Hiking and biking maybe, but not for practical walking. I could've asked Becky for a ride. In fact, she offered but I declined. I don't want her to see where I live, because it's a shithole, and I also don't want her to drop by unannounced. I may hate the place, and it may be a total dump, but dammit, my home is sacred.

  By the time I get home it's dusk, and I know it's time to drink because the thoughts about Amelia are starting to rise up.

  I hear Al's roaring laugh right before I enter through the screen door. At least he's in a good mood, and not in a drunken rage. Yet.

 

‹ Prev