by Kata Čuić
“We have another problem.” I elbow Rosie in the side as I catch sight of the last person I ever expected to see again at fight night. I gesture with my chin in Hayleigh’s direction. “What is she doing here? I always made sure she never got an invite.”
“I made sure she did.” Rosie smiles. “You know that old saying, ‘keep your friends close but your enemies closer?’ Well, now you know her for what she is, and we need to keep our advantage for as long as possible. The more opportunity she has to see you with Jason, the better our chances.”
“She can’t see you and me together,” I hiss.
“I know. Your job at the fights from now on is to stick to Jason like glue. I’ll be in the background, watching and waiting.” She turns to abandon me.
I grab her before she disappears into the sweaty bodies surrounding us. “Watching and waiting for what?”
“For any sign that this house of cards is ready to collapse.”
She’s quickly swallowed up by the crowd, which pulses with energy. More bets than ever have been placed on Jason’s opponent for tonight. It seems Kieran’s gamble on Halloween has paid off to renew interest. The action hasn’t yet begun. Jason’s gaze finds mine in the crowd, and he winks. The gesture seems out of character for him, and definitely not what I need. He averts his eyes suddenly, an obvious expression of disgust crossing his features. His apparent revulsion doesn’t bring me the relief it should.
“This isn’t my typical scene, but I must admit I’m fascinated with the phenomenon. Phi Kappa has done well for themselves, garnering notoriety on campus.” The sound of Hayleigh’s voice sets my skin on fire.
Jason’s disgust wasn’t directed at me at all.
I have to physically restrain myself from violence until I catch Rosie’s gaze several feet away. She plasters an obviously fake smile on her face, reminding me to play my part.
“I’m glad to see you here, regardless. What made you decide to watch the carnage tonight?”
She sighs. It sounds almost dejected. “I can’t understand why anyone cheers for that barbarian. All the women on campus are captivated with him. Even some of our sisters. It makes no sense.”
If there was any question she’s talking about Jason, she answers it with her stare. Knowing what I know now, it’s obvious by the way her glassy eyes caress his body that she’s remembering her carnal knowledge of him.
I clench my fists. Hopefully, the noise of the crowd drowns out my tight voice. “If you think so little of that barbarian, then why did you suggest I hook up with him to make Sigma house look better? I thought guys like him would only use and abuse me?”
Sheer rage churns in my stomach, imagining her as the sole reason Jason refused my affections.
“You’re a big girl, Emma. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. It wouldn’t be a crime to use him to ditch your V-card, then go on to med school without that burden. And if it keeps SST ahead of the pack because every woman on campus would be jealous of you, then all the more reason to give into your baser instincts.”
She wouldn’t enjoy it so much if I gave in to the urge to mimic each punch Jason lands on his opponent. I never understood bloodlust until now, but every cell in my body burns with the desire to make her feel the pain she’s inflicted on someone else.
A shudder wracks my body. I’m turning into Kieran.
I clear my throat and pray to a God my science-loving mind doesn’t necessarily believe in for strength. “Actually, Hayleigh, we’re already together. We’ve been circling each other for a while now, and once you gave me your blessing, I saw no reason to deny our attraction any longer.”
She tears her gaze from Jason to fix me with wide eyes. “As in, together-together? You’re not just using him for sex?”
A hint of shame creeps up my spine, knowing we’re not so different as I would like to believe. “Not just for sex, but I have to say, he’s a very generous lover.”
“Good for you.” She tries to sell it but falls woefully short. It only makes me want to claw her eyes out even more.
The ability to fantasize suddenly feels like a card I can play to my advantage. “He is good for me. We’re already discussing him moving to Boston in the fall. He’s kicking around the idea of applying for grad school. There are so many great programs in the area for literature. If anyone could rock the tall, dark, and slightly terrifying professor with elbow patches on his sport coat, it’s Jason.”
“I wasn’t aware he was a lit major.” The way she runs her finger over her bottom lip as she watches Jason take a few hits makes my blood boil. She has no right to imagine what his skin feels like under her mouth or the way he tastes on her tongue.
“He’s always had a love affair with books. Probably because they’re not as disappointing as people.” I can’t help getting in that subtle jab. My mind keeps spinning better and more fantastic scenarios with which to make her jealous as easily as breathing. “He knows he can trust me, though. That I’d never betray him or hurt him. I love being the woman he uses for his pleasure. There’s something so perfect about the way we fit together. Like we fill pieces of each other we never knew were missing before.”
“You seem genuinely happy,” she murmurs. The sincerity in her tone catches me off guard. “I suppose that makes sense. You’re not the type to care much for appearances.”
My heart pounds in my chest. It feels like I’m losing the upper hand all of a sudden. “I would never do anything to disgrace SST, but you’re right. I try not to judge anyone by appearance. Jason may not look the part but underneath what you see is the best man I’ve ever known.”
He’s not the villain you made him believe he is.
“You’re a lucky woman, Emma. It must be nice to go after what you want without regard to what anyone else will think of you.”
Something about her words and the way she says them gives me pause. I shake it off. She’s the evil wench who convinced Jason he was worth less than nothing. He’s pushed people, including me, away for years because of what she did to him. There’s no room in my bitter heart for compassion toward her. She doesn’t deserve it.
Jason is declared the winner after a much closer fight than usual. He parts his way through the crowd, all but stumbling back to the tutoring room. A trail of women follows in his wake.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to go fight off the competition and take care of him.”
She nods, staring in the direction he went. “Go get your man.”
Oh, I plan to. I’ll do everything in my power to undo all the damage she’s done and to keep him from anyone else’s clutches.
Truth: All’s fair in love and war.
“What took you so long?”
He shrugs, an uncharacteristically sheepish expression settling on his scabbed and bruised face. “I wanted to take a shower first, but it’s currently occupied. At least I was able to get in my room for clothes since they weren’t in there.” He holds up the crumpled balls of cotton like evidence. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”
I physically shake away the images piling up in my brain of Rosie and a friend soaping each other up. “Of course, you can. Don’t you think you should set some ground rules if you’re going to share your apartment for the rest of the year, though? You’re obviously sore and tired. It’s not fair for you to be unable to go home and relax after the fights. If Rosie wants to hook up, she can go to their places once in a while.”
He frowns as if I’ve just suggested she whore herself on a street corner. “Most of the women she’s with aren’t out. They don’t want to be seen with her. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think it’s great for Ro’s self-esteem, but if she’s getting something she wants out of it, then I’m not going to make problems for her.”
Some of what I spewed to Hayleigh is the absolute truth. Underneath his gruff exterior, Jason Gould has a heart of well…gold. He rarely lets anyone see it, though, thanks to her.
I tilt my head to study him as a hint of suspicion pecks at
my brain. “I know you’re not a fan of daydreams or jerking off with Rosie in your space, but why don’t you stay when she has someone there? As much of a horndog as you are, I’d think you’d enjoy listening to their moans. They might even invite you to join in.”
He laughs, then immediately groans in regret over the obvious pain it causes. “The first and only time that happened is exactly what made me decide to not be there when she brings someone to the apartment. You should’ve seen the look on Ro’s face. Any question I had that she might be bi was erased. The idea of a dick being involved in her fun time turned her absolutely green.”
I gesture toward the bathroom, unease creeping up my spine. He makes it sound as though if Rosie had been okay with his involvement, he would have happily agreed to that threesome. “Go take a hot shower. I’ll check you over when you’re done.”
He sighs in relief at the end of my interrogation and trudges away, every step heavier than the last.
The moment the door shuts behind him, followed by the soft snick of the lock turning, I grab for my phone. She picks up on the first ring. “Is something wrong? Is he really hurt this time?”
“How was your shower?”
There’s a pregnant pause on the other end of the line. “Fine. Why?”
“I’m surprised you’re done already, that’s all. Have you moved the party to the bedroom?”
“I have no idea what–” Rosie sighs. “Fine. You caught me. I’ll admit it.”
I throw my fist in the air in triumph. “I knew it! Is this another way you’re trying to play matchmaker? You purposely make him feel uncomfortable in his own apartment, knowing he’ll come sleep in mine? I have some bad news for you. Nothing has ever happened on the nights he stays here.”
“Yet.” The smile in her response annoys me to no end.
“Jason and I have an agreement. Our pretend relationship doesn’t exist behind closed doors. Anything we fake, we do it for others, not for ourselves.”
“Please. You two barely looked at each other after the fight. No one at that party thought you were together. That just means you need more practice. Alone.” Her last word drips with insinuation.
“Mmhmm. Just like you need more practice with the ladies. Have you had an actual hook up or has this all been for show? Jason told me about the first time a woman came over and invited him to join you. Was she even gay?”
“I might have persuaded her to play along,” she hedges. “For Jason’s sake.”
While it doesn’t surprise me she’s avoiding my question, I’m shocked Jason hasn’t seen through her ruse. He’s usually more observant than that. He’s the man who watches without engaging, after all. “And how did you think that was going to work, exactly? If you promised Jason to one of the hopeful girls at the party, he would have noticed something was wrong when she was only interested in him and ignored your presence in the ménage a trois.”
There’s a rustling in the background like she’s getting comfortable in his bed. “I wasn’t worried. I knew it would never go that far. He might be afraid of you, but he’s never been interested in anyone else, either. He’s had women throwing themselves at his feet ever since the fights began and never once taken them up on their offers.”
“You know better than I do the reasons for that,” I grumble.
“True. I also know if you offered, he wouldn’t decline.”
“If this is some misguided attempt to make me curious about your prediction, I have more bad news for you…” I trail off as the shower stops running in the bathroom. The time for this conversation to be private is rapidly coming to an end. “I have to go. Jason’s done with his shower and I need to check him out.” I internally cringe and slap my forehead at my Freudian slip to the soundtrack of Rosie’s cackles. “Check him over. I’m going to check him over for injuries.”
“You should just tell him a blowie will make him feel all better. Doctor’s orders.” Her words are punctuated between gasps of air through her hysterical laughter.
Nothing about this situation is funny, but Rosie’s words remind me of the night he suggested the same treatment. Which makes me wonder if he’s known about her duplicity the entire time and simply gone along with it because he’s too afraid to openly ask for what he wants. By the time I hang up on Rosie with more force than necessary, my entire body shakes with frustration. I might not be falling for her tricks, but the end result is still the same. All I ever do any more is second-guess myself and question the motives of everyone around me.
I’m tired of it, and I’m so close to breaking. If I can make it three more weeks until Thanksgiving, I’ll be surrounded by unconditional love and a blissfully long weekend of escape.
Jason is already sprawled out on the mattress when I trudge into the bedroom with a hazy light at the end of the tunnel as my goal. He’s shirtless and his hair is still damp. His eyes are closed, and his chest rises in even, steady breaths. A cursory visual examination reveals fresh bruises along his jaw and ribs. No bleeding anywhere, and he doesn’t seem to be in any pain.
As quietly as possible, I creep to the dresser for pajamas, intent on escaping the tension in the room only I feel. Damn Rosie and her stupid games. With the couch and sleep beckoning, I pause at the doorway to shut off the light.
“You’re not going to examine me closer?”
The sound of his raspy voice piles more anxiety onto my shoulders. “You seem fine. I was just going to let you sleep. Good night.”
“What’s wrong?” The mattress creaks with his movement. I don’t have to turn around to know he’s sitting up.
“Nothing’s wrong. You deserve a good night’s sleep in an actual bed by yourself for a change. I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.”
“We’ve shared your bed enough for me to know you’re lying.” His voice is suddenly at my back. “If you met someone at the party tonight and feel uncomfortable with this arrangement, I can take the couch.”
Oh, sure. He buys Rosie’s act but can detect my little white lie so easily. My laughter sounds slightly hysterical even to my own ears. “I can’t meet anyone new at parties when we’re supposed to be together, but apparently we need to step up our game of faking it. Rosie said we weren’t believable at all.”
“Okay. What do you want me to do differently next time? You and Kieran were never joined at the hip at parties, so I went along with that. I figure you’re not the type of woman who wants to be smothered. Was I wrong?”
The incredulity warming my veins must surely bleed onto my face when I spin to face him. “Seriously? Number one, he’s not the best barometer for how to behave like you’re in a normal relationship because he was clearly only using me as a distraction from his own heartbreak. Number two, all the times I showed up at your door after those instances, you said we never talked. Why do you want to have a heart-to-heart now? I thought you didn’t do those?”
He blinks like his half-asleep brain is having trouble translating my word vomit. “I wasn’t suggesting an all-night conversation about the blackest recesses of our souls. I asked how I could do better next time. Who pissed in your Jungle Juice tonight?”
My shoulders deflate under his hard stare. He’s right. I’m overreacting and jumping on his case, blindly believing Rosie’s assumptions about him to be true when he’s never given me any indication to justify her crazy schemes. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just tired and cranky. Get some rest. You have to be up in a few hours for work.”
After making a quick stop in the bathroom to change and brush my teeth, I head to the couch with the intent of watching infomercials to drown out my brain’s wild fantasizing. The latest and greatest weight loss pills might be less than healthy but picking apart all the logical reasons they would never work prevents me from musing about anything else. Late-night mindless television has become my weird way to unwind until I pass out from sheer exhaustion. It might prove to be a useful tool to get me through medical school, actually. There will be no time for daydreams over
those four years.
I make myself comfortable with the throw pillow under my head and the afghan over my shoulders. Just as I reach for the remote on the coffee table, Jason lifts my feet and places them on his lap as he settles into the other side of the couch.
I stare at him. He stares back. This goes on until I can’t take the questions barreling through my skull any longer.
“What are you doing?”
“Waiting.”
“For what?”
“You to break.”
I purse my lips, trying to hold it in, but it’s no use. “What makes you think I’ll break? I can be good at not talking when I want to. You said we used to stare at each other for hours.”
He shrugs. “Maybe you didn’t know what to say those times. That doesn’t mean you’re not dying to talk my ear off now.”
“I’m really not.” To prove my point, I turn on the television and flip through the channels until settling on something about matcha tea powder—the newest miracle in weight loss. The hosts sprinkle the substance into a thick green smoothie, then make a big show about how great it tastes.
The glasses look like they contain baby shit. You couldn’t pay me to drink that stuff.
“What are you watching?” Jason gapes at the TV.
I gesture with the remote at what is obviously on the screen.
He frowns. “I was just kidding about dragging you to the gym, so you wouldn’t get fat. You know that, right? You don’t need a weight loss supplement.”
“I know.” My diet hasn’t included Danishes in two months, so gym time is no longer necessary, in my humble opinion. Besides, helping keep the fights and the reveals under control takes up my precious free time between classes, studying, and Panhell commitments.
The program changes to the latest and greatest in exercise equipment. My eyelids grow heavier as the tension bleeds from my muscles.
“You’re really not going to talk to me anymore?” Jason’s quiet voice startles me.