by Karina Halle
“What kind of tired?” I asked. Perry had fair skin that usually rebelled when she didn’t get enough sleep. Yeah, yeah, I’m a creeper who noticed those things. I didn’t say she still wasn’t gorgeous when she was tired. It made her look more vulnerable than ever, and that, combined with her delicious tits that were just ripe for squeezing were a fucking lethal combination.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I caught her coming back from a run, so maybe it was just that. Or perhaps it was the fact that she wanted to throw my arse to the curb. It was hard to tell.”
Regardless, I made her tell me everything all over again, going over every word she said. Perhaps, if Rebecca repeated it enough, it would be like talking to Perry herself.
It wasn’t, but in some sick way, it was close. Hearing this gave me a sense of closure that I didn’t have before, relief that she, as tired as she might have been, was okay. She was alive and out there in the world, living her life, working a new job. She’d moved on, and as much as that stung the shit out of me worse than any wasp could, I was somewhat happy for her.
Of course, being happy for her made me feel more miserable for me. Call me a selfish dickmonkey, but it’s hard to be happy for someone when you can’t share their happiness with them. I wanted to be there with her as she lived her life, watching for those rare smiles on her face.
I was grumbling about that to myself as I pulled my coat around me and braved the cold, crossing underneath the monorail tracks to the store. I tied Fat Rabbit outside and went inside, searching the aisle for the cheapest bottle of wine. I was unemployed now and wasn’t about to waste a drop of expensive shit on Dean and Seb, not when they’d probably be puking it up later anyway.
It was just a small convenience store, and while the douchester hipbag guy behind the counter—Paul I think his name was—dealt with a customer at the jugs of beer-to-go (who knew it would be so popular?), I waited at the register, watching a lady with interest.
I’d seen her a few times before…in fact, lately I think she’d been in the store every time I was there. She wore all black, with a furry velvet hat that looked vaguely Russian. I’d never seen her face; she would just walk from the counter, down the aisle to the end, like she was part zombie. You know the way really old people walk when they’re too stubborn for scooters or a cane? That kind of walk. Slow, deliberate, and shaking slightly. I’d never seen her look at anything on the shelves or buy anything. She just did that ultra-slow walk of hers.
“Ready to go?” Douchester Hipbag said to me. I straightened up off the counter and pushed the bottle of wine toward him.
“Sure am.”
“Still not smoking?” he asked as he rang it up.
“Still not,” I told him and turned my attention back to the woman. I nodded in her direction. “Hey, what’s the deal with the Walking Dead reject over there?”
He frowned and looked past me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” I said, watching her do her death dance. “What’s her deal? I always see her here, just…acting like a zombie.”
Paul gave me a funny look and popped the wine into a paper bag. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, Dex.”
I looked at the lady and back at him. “Uh, you can’t see that lady there?”
He shook his head. “I think quitting smoking might have done something to your brain.”
It wasn’t quitting smoking that did something to my brain. Oh fucknuts. There was no lady, was there?
I quickly handed him the five dollars and snatched my wine up off the counter. I eyed her form differently now, the jerky way her limbs moved, the fact that I always saw her in the same place, doing the same actions. She wasn’t a zombie, but she was in fact dead.
I got myself out of the store, feeling the heebie jeebies crawling up and down my skin, and Fat Rabbit and I practically ran across the road to my apartment. Even though the lady wasn’t a threat (not yet anyway), I was scared shitless. I wasn’t used to seeing them alone, and I suddenly needed Perry’s embrace and comfort more than anything in the world.
Fortunately, it didn’t take long for Dean and Seb to show up. Unfortunately, I’d drunk the bottle of wine already. They never even had a chance.
“You’re getting a nice head start, aren’t you?” Dean said as he placed a six-pack of beer in the fridge. I guess he figured he’d need to bring his own.
“Well, I just saw a ghost, so I’m feeling a bit…uh, on edge.”
Seb and Dean exchanged a look. Dean frowned, his eyes cautious underneath his glasses. Seb just laughed and tucked his long hair behind his ears.
“Awesome,” he said, cracking open a beer. “You saw a ghost, that’s rad.”
Seb was always kind of a stoner. Swap kind of for totally. I had a feeling he was a cast member on That ‘70s Show at one point but he got fired or something and now just lived his life stuck in that world. I mean, it’s an off the wall theory, but I see ghosts, so what the fuck do I know?
“Yeah, Seb. A ghost. And it’s not awesome. It’s scary as shit.”
“Right on.”
I shook my head and wished I had more wine. “Beer me,” I said, holding out my hand. Dean sighed and tore a beer off the rings, handing it to me.
They pulled up the barstools and we tried to talk about a chick, Clarissa, that Seb was attempting to bang, but the conversation kept coming back to ghosts. As if ghosts were more interesting than sex. Nothing was more interesting than sex.
“So, like, I totally thought Perry was like ghost whisperer,” Seb said, rocking back and forth on the stool, “and you were just the camera guy. I didn’t know you saw ghosts too, dude.”
I twisted the metal ring around and round until it snapped off the can.
“Normally I don’t. I’m…” I shot them both a quick glance. They were watching me intently. “I’m off my medication. I was put away in a mental institute back in college because I saw ghosts. They thought I was crazy. They put me on meds—robbing me of my real life while they were at it—and I stopped seeing them. I haven’t taken any pills since December.”
Both of them grew silent. Seb looked confused and Dean’s face hadn’t changed. He still watched me carefully, judging my sanity, or if perhaps I was a big fat liar. I didn’t blame him. I hoped he’d still be my running buddy, but if he wanted to hang out with saner people, I definitely wasn’t the right fit for him.
“But you’re not crazy,” Seb offered slowly, as if reading my mind. “Just because you see ghosts doesn’t mean you’re crazy.”
I shot him a smile. “Doesn’t it? That’s never what the doctors said.”
He took a long yet thoughtful sip of his beer. “I think doctors don’t know shit. I bet if you see ghosts, it’s not because you’re mental. You’re just different, Dex. And that’s okay.”
This was getting borderline heartwarming. Must put a stop to it.
“Anyway, that’s neither here nor there,” I said, raising my beer in the air. “Forget ghosts, let’s say thanks for sex and get Seb here laid tonight.”
We rammed our beer cans together, foam spilling over the sides.
“Just Seb?” Dean asked, wiping beer off his can.
“I thought you and your new lady friend were exclusive,” I told him.
“Naw, we are. I meant you. You’re not getting any tail?”
I snorted at his choice of words. “Tail. No, I’m not.”
Seb slammed his drink down and wiped his mouth. “Why not? Dude, you’re single. Maybe Clarissa has a hot sister or something. Or maybe one of the bartenders she works with will dig you.”
“I really hope you’re talking about female bartenders, Sea Bass,” I warned him. “I know I’ve been spending a lot of time sweating with Dean here, but…”
“So that’s it?” Dean asked. “You’re just going to spend your life pining after her?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Dean, if I’m not mistaken, you’re the one who said I should build a temple for her or something.”
“That was then. I thought maybe you’d have gone after her. Isn’t this why you’re…what was it again…becoming a better man?”
It was. But just because I wasn’t going to her now, didn’t mean it was off the table.
“When was the last time you got laid?” Seb asked.
I didn’t have to think. I’d been jerking off to it ever since. “With Perry. After the Christmas party.”
His jaw dropped. “Oh man, you so need to get some action tonight. Hell, you can have Clarissa if you want.”
“Oh, like you’re doing me a favor by passing up the chick you haven’t even fucked yet.”
“Fine. Offer is off the table now. Your loss.”
“I don’t need anyone’s help getting laid. I never have.” I didn’t mean to brag but…okay, yes, I totally meant to brag. I pulled back the sleeve of my t-shirt. “And look at these guns.” I eyed Dean. “Don’t you dare show off yours, cuz that’s not fair. But seriously, with these guns and my face and my dick, women are completely powerless.”
Dean sat back and crossed his arms. “Maybe not all women.”
“Perry hasn’t been invited to the brand new gun show yet,” I told him, as if there was a chance in hell that she’d see me now. “When she does, all will be forgiven.”
“I see,” Dean mused. “So, before that happens, whenever that happens, are you going to get busy with some fine ladies tonight or keep sitting here talking about your guns?”
I pushed back my stool and stood up. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“As your running coach, it’s my job to challenge you.”
“Hey now, we’re running partners.”
“You guys sound really gay,” Seb spoke up.
We both glared at him in unison. He threw up his hands. “What, I’m not judging. I’d be happy if you were gay—I’d get more action that way.”
I rolled my eyes and pointed my beer at Dean. “You want me to get some tonight? Challenge accepted.”
He grinned in response before chugging the rest of his beer.
Seb looked between us with a dumb smile on his face. “So are you getting some men or women tonight, Dex?”
This was going to be a long night.
***
A few hours later, we ended up drunk as skunks at this really divey metal bar called The Funhouse. The band playing was loud as fuck, pure metal, and the bartender was Clarissa, the fairly hot chick that Seb was pining over. I say fairly hot since black lipstick and bleached hair wasn’t really my thing, but he seemed to be head over heels for her. Clarissa, on the other hand, had a range of suitors to deal with, all hanging around the bar.
We ended up doing the same for a bit, hiding from the noise of the venue’s shitty PA system. While Clarissa didn’t have a sister or a bartending buddy, she did have some friends who were there to see the terrible band. Seb was doing his best to get in good with them so he could then score in good with her. Men were so fucking predictable. The women ate it up though, as Seb played his harmless stoner card. I suppose all you had to do was wear a puppy dog face and women would do anything to help you.
Well, it didn’t work that way with me. I never had to work very hard for women, which was both a blessing and a curse. Mainly a blessing, since I never complained about having too many chicks to fuck. Still, I did feel a bit off balance as I watched Seb do his thing. I had been with Jenn for so long that I’d forgotten what it was like to be single again. With Perry, everything was easy and effortless. It wasn’t a matter of a girl wanting to suck my dick, but a matter of me wanting to suck hers. I mean, her proverbial one. Man, Seb had done a number on me.
There hadn’t been anyone in the bar who remotely caught my eye until I went to the ATM to get more money out. The damn machine was taking forever and had the nerve to charge me a four dollar transaction fee. I was ready to throttle the thing until I turned around and saw an interesting face looking back at me.
She was tall, maybe my height (damn my height!), with long, wavy red hair and matching lipstick. Her eyes were glazed like she’d just been fucked and fucked good, and her lips were held in a half snarl, as if she was about to blow cigarette smoke in my face.
“Sorry,” I apologized. I didn’t know why I apologized since I hadn’t run into her or anything, but then I found my eyes focusing on her amazing rack that pulled her thin white tank top tight across her chest. Her nipples had made themselves known, speaking to me, whispering “bite me.”
I rarely got caught with my eyes where they shouldn’t be so I quickly averted my eyes back to hers. It was hard to tell in the bar, but they could have been a dark blue. They were nasty looking, like she was going to eat me alive and enjoy every crunch. I liked that.
I liked it a lot. I had a boner in two second flat and was hard as fuck, straining against my pants. Part of me wanted to feel embarrassed, the other part wanted to rub it up and down on her while I rejoiced that I had finally gotten a hard-on over someone other than Perry. I finally found a woman’s proverbial dick to suck.
I needed a better saying.
“Are you with the band?” the woman asked in a low, husky voice. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. She had a nice pink tongue that probably matched the rest of her nice pink bits.
I smirked at her. “These fucks? No.”
She smiled back, totally bitchy, totally hot. “Well, I am. I guess I’m one of these fucks, too.”
Oh mama. I loved the way her lips looked when she said fuck. I loved the way her eyes looked when she said it, too. She wanted some of this, and judging by the heat I was packing in my pants, I couldn’t blame her.
“What were you saying about fucking?” I asked, taking a step toward her. I wasn’t normally so forward, but I obviously didn’t have any blood left in my head.
She grinned and touched my shirt. “I asked because you have an eyebrow ring and a shirt that looks like it used to fit you in the ‘90s. I didn’t say anything about fucking, but now that the card is on the table, maybe you can prove to be more manly than you look.”
I grinned right back at her, my eyes drifting over her shoulder and toward the bathroom door. Nailing someone in the bathroom of a grungy metal bar was probably one of the grossest, dirtiest things you could do. But I felt like bathing in dirt after being so clean for the last month.
“Can I buy you a drink?” I asked her, remembering my manners before I got carried away.
She put her hand on my chest and slid it down until it reached the waistband of my boxer briefs. I don’t know why I was worried about being dirty when I’d only last a couple of minutes, tops.
“I’m good,” she said slowly. “But you go get yourself one. I’ll just be in the women’s washroom, right over there.”
Message was received loud and clear. I watched her sashay her tight little jean-clad ass over to the washroom and disappear inside. I had maybe two minutes before I would join her and suddenly I was nervous as fuck.
I went over to the bar and got Clarissa’s attention long enough to order a shot of bourbon. After I put it back and tried to gather up my courage, which had somehow disappeared along with the blood in my brain, Dean appeared beside me.
“Saw you talking to that hot piece of ass,” he commented, leaning forward on his elbows.
“I guess you could call it talking,” I said, wishing I had another shot. I raised my hand for Clarissa and waited. “It was more like ‘let’s fuck,’ but not said as vaguely as that.”
“You know, I always thought you had a type,” he mused.
“What do you mean?” I asked as Clarissa filled up my shot glass again and down the hatch it went. What the hell was wrong with me? Even my erection was deflating, like I was losing all my nerve, like I was all talk and no show.
“Oh, the bitchy look. Like Jenn, like the redhead. Gorgeous and all that, but mean. You know, you can tell when a girl ain’t got no heart. And you like that. That’s why I was so surprised that you fell in love with Perry.”
I fell in love with Perry. I was in love with Perry.
“She was so sweet and cute and somewhat innocent. Not the girl who would screw you in a shithole. Not a girl who would ever hurt you on purpose. You know, she was nice. And well, you don’t like nice, Dex. You like bitches. You like to be treated like shit for some god damn reason, and I don’t know why. You don’t deserve it. But maybe you think you do.”
“Dean,” I said slowly, pushing my shot glass away from me. “Have you been listening to a lot of self-help tapes lately?”
“I’m just saying, man. It’s interesting. I feel like I’m finally cracking the Foray code.”
Time was ticking away. The redhead was still in the bathroom, probably waiting for the last chick to leave so she could barricade the door, avoiding the puddles of vomit and piss in her platform shoes. Was that really what I wanted? Now that I was called to act upon it, my dick argued against it. It didn’t give a fuck and I meant that literally. I wanted the easy bitch because it was safe and familiar. And let’s face it, I was horny as hell.
But that wasn’t me anymore. I’d seen the light. I wanted the girl who embodied it. I wanted to deserve her, to be the man she needed. And I’d do whatever I could to be that man.
I sighed and slapped a few bills on the table. I smacked Dean on the arm. “I’m going home, buddy.”
I pushed past him, waving at Seb as I went, who was still stuck in a conversation with one of Clarissa’s friends.
“Does that mean I can have her?” Dean called out jovially from behind me.
“She’s probably still in there,” I answered back and walked out into the cold night. I was going home alone, and for the first time in a long time, that was completely okay with me. I, too, had a code to crack.
CHAPTER FIVE
With my life wrapped up in running, working out, and making myself extremely fuckable in Perry’s eyes, a couple of weeks had flown by before I saw Rebecca again. She finally flagged me down and invited me out for pizza. I hated to be one of those guys who turned his nose up at the Italian pie, so I dragged my ass out the door, promising myself I’d do an extra session at the gym afterward.