Labeled

by Jenni Linn

  "You have a date?" Vance booms.

  "What?" I look around. I didn't even hear his car pull up.

  "Well, that's my cue to leave." Tay starts packing up her things.

  "YOU!" I point to her.

  "Seeyoutomorrowbye!," she yells and runs out the door.

  "TAYLOR!" I scream.

  "What the hell!?" Vance yells.

  "What?" I ask, exasperated.

  "Who is this kid?"

  I sigh, "He's no one. I don't even know him."

  He looks at me like I'm crazy. "And you're going out with him?" His voice has risen dramatically.

  "No!" I yell. "I told him no for that very reason. Where the hell did you hear this at?"

  "Who is he?" He ignores my question.

  "Why? It doesn't matter."

  "I want to talk with him."

  "No, Vance. No!"

  "You like him!" He accuses me.

  "For real? What is wrong with you? I don't even know him."

  "I'll find out who he is."

  "Whatever. Is there something else you need to yell at me about? Or you just like being a crazy lunatic?”

  He huffs and walks out into the garage bay not saying another word to me. I pick up the phone and immediately dial Taylor.

  "I'm sorry," she blurts before I can even suck in a breath.

  "What. The. Hell." I grit out.

  "I told Wes, who must've told Vance…but I have a good reason."

  "And what reason would that be?"

  "I can't say."

  "Taylor!"

  "You'll just have to wait. Look I gotta go...love you!" The line goes dead before I can get a word in. What the hell just happened? I am so confused. "I need new friends and a new family," I mumble to myself.

  An hour later, I have finished all the shop details and start looking up parts I need to get my car fixed and back on the road. I figure I’ll probably have to work every day for the five or six months to fully pay off my bill. I put in my order and place it on the shops' account--a small perk. Thankfully, I won't have to pay for labor.

  My phone rings and I groan. I can only imagine who's calling me now. But when I see my big brother’s face on the screen, I answer it excitedly, "Victor!"

  "Hey, peanut!"

  "Really?"

  He laughs. "You'll always be my little peanut."

  "Oh my gosh!"

  "You love it. Anyways, what are you doing?"

  "Just finishing up at the shop--why? What's up?"

  "We found a place!"

  "You did!? That's great!"

  "It's amazing, V! I'll send you a picture after we get off."

  I'm sad at the reality of him leaving our small town and leaving us all behind to be a ‘hotshot’ accountant.

  "V? You there?" Victor questions in my silence.

  "Yeah. I'm here." My voice is melancholy.

  "You okay?"

  "Yeah...it’s just really setting in that you're leaving."

  "I'm not leaving. Don't think of it like that. It's not that far and you can come to visit anytime."

  "Yeah, okay," my response comes out harsher than I intend.

  "I promise."

  "Okay."

  "Let’s make plans for next weekend."

  "Okay, yeah!" My mood lifts dramatically. "I'm so excited!"

  "Awesome. Well, I gotta go call Mom."

  "You called me before Mom?" I ask, surprised.

  "Well, yeah, but don't let her know that!"

  My heart swells. "Cross my heart," I tell him.

  "Okay. Love you, peanut."

  "Love you too!"

  After we hang up, I send Chase a message about ordering my parts, and I let him know when they should be arriving. My phone dings not long after...but it’s not the response I’m expecting.

  McSwoony: I heard you have a date.

  Sliders

  It is five-thirty when I’m finally walking out to my truck. Work was long, and boring, and I’m trying not to think about it when my cell rings. I answer too fast.

  "What's up, dude?"

  "Meet me at Sliders," Vance says without a hello.

  "Alright...What's going on?" I ask as I approach my truck, pushing the unlock button.

  "Some douche bag asked out V today."

  I stop dead in my tracks, "What?" I’m taken completely by surprise! I mean, I’m not shocked that someone asked her out--she's gorgeous and vibrant--but shocked that someone dared to. I haven’t even thought about this happening. This is so not good.

  "Who?" I question.

  "I have no idea who. She won't tell me."

  "Did she say yes?" Please say ‘no’. Please say ‘no’. My thoughts are selfish.

  "She told me she didn't, but I don't believe her. I think she's lying to protect him." There's a beep on my phone, and I pull it away to look at the screen. I have a text message waiting.

  "So, what's your plan?" I ask, putting the phone back to my ear and picking up my pace.

  "I don't know. Just meet me at Sliders." He hangs up before I can even agree.

  Looks like I'm going to Sliders tonight. I hop in my truck and turn over the engine. Sitting idle, I check the message I just received. It's from V. Simply telling me she ordered her parts, and I can't help the surge of jealousy that takes over me. I send a response, toss my phone in the cup holder, and drive.

  Fifteen minutes later, I make my way into the bar. I have yet to check my phone; not sure I want to know V's answer, even if she told Vance that she wasn't going out on a date. I don't even know if she'd be honest with me considering I'm one of Vance's closest friends. Is she scared that I would rat her out? It isn't very crowded inside, so I immediately spot Vance's head at the bar. I roll my sleeves up to my elbows. Damn, it's hot in here. I can't tell if it's hot in the bar or if it's my blood boiling.

  I pat Vance on the back. "Hey man."

  Vance’s black hair is disheveled. He places the beer bottle in front of him. "Dude, this is stressing me out.”

  You and me both, man. "I'm sure it's nothing."

  The bartender--a guy this time--approaches us. "What can I get ya?" he asks, throwing a rag over his shoulder.

  "Just a Miller, on tap," I respond, and he moves away to pour my drink. I turn to Vance, "So how did you find this stuff out?"

  The bartender places the glass in front of me, "Thanks, man." He nods and moves down to the other side of the bar. I take a hefty swig.

  "I was with Wes and he got a text from Taylor. He said she seemed excited about it. "

  I can feel my body heat up, "V was excited?"

  Vance shrugs, "I think so."

  "She didn't say who it was?"

  "No,” He sighs and takes a swig of his beer, "I'm going to figure it out. V knows I will, and when I do... I’m going to break his legs, and then beat him with them."

  Damn. This is not good. Vance is damn near scary right now. I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and unlock it.

  Nic: Nooo. I was asked on a date, but I do not have a date.

  I exhale a long breath and glance over at Vance, who's peeling at the sticker on his bottle.

  Me: You turned him down?

  Nic: Yes.

  Me: Good.

  Nic: Why's that good?

  Me: Because it is. For you...and this guy. Your brother is freaking out.

  Nic: I can always change my mind. Vance is stupid. Let him freak out.

  Me: Who is this guy?

  Nic: Who's asking? You or my brother?

  I stare at the message before trying to write my response. I don't get too far because Vance leans into me, "Who are you texting?" I quickly push the power button to darken the screen, then put it in my pocket and clear my throat. "Just Nic."

  "Ah, the infamous Nic. When do I get to meet her?"

  "Uh. I don't know." I need to change the subject--and quick.

  "C'mon. Though, she may just take a good look at me and dump your ass."

  I laugh, "Your brother
said the same damn thing."

  "We Russos are studs."

  I shake my head at him. "I can't wait until a girl knocks you on your ass."

  "That'll be the day..." he mutters. "We have to find out who this punk is."

  I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I itch to look at it but refrain.

  "It's obvious that Taylor tells Wes everything...so why not wait to see what she tells him?"

  He looks at me for a beat, "That's the weird thing. She doesn't always tell him things. Actually,” He pauses and touches his chin, “She never does...because he doesn't care. He found it weird, and I think that's why he told me." I think about that for a minute. Taylor is one sneaky chick.

  "Man,” Vance puts his hand on my shoulder, "I'm so glad you got my back. We have to keep these grimy assholes away from girls like V." I look down to hide my face and cringe.

  Fuck.

  Intoxicating

  I hang out with Vance for another hour before leaving. We didn't drink much more so I knew we both were okay to drive. My feelings for Veronica are heavily weighing down on me; the happiness and thoughts of pursuing something with her have evaporated. Seeing Vance stressed out over some random guy asking out V...I can't even imagine what he'd do if he knew about how I felt. I can't do something like that to my friend--to a friend I consider a brother. I’d, more than likely, be creating a fall out to people who are like family. Even more than my own.

  Speaking of my family, the white Mercedes parked out front of the house indicates that my parents are home from their vacation. An involuntary groan slips past my lips. I do not want to deal with their shit, on top of the shit storm of feelings for someone I shouldn't even have feelings for. After parking my truck behind said Mercedes, I head inside, pausing in the foyer to listen for any sounds within the house. It remains quiet.

  "Hello?" I yell out.

  "In here," I hear my mother’s voice call from the back of the house. I walk straight down the hall, passing the staircase and into the large open kitchen. My mother looks up when she hears me enter, disregarding the stack of mail she’s sorting on the center island in front of her.

  "Chase, honey?"

  "Hey, Mom."

  A large floppy white hat sits upon her head, even though she's indoors where the sun can no longer reach her. She rushes towards me. A wide smile forms on her lips, exposing her white and perfectly straight teeth. Her reaction to seeing me seems genuinely happy. I’m surprised. The anger I've felt for the past two weeks has momentarily subsided. I allow her arms to wrap around me--not even caring that her hat is poking me in the neck--and pull me into a hug.

  "I am so sorry that we weren't here for your homecoming," She pulls away but keeps her hands on my arms, "It's so good to have you home."

  I bite my tongue, knowing it won't make a difference, and just smile. "It's good to be home. Where's Dad?" I ask.

  She backs away swiftly. The question seems to annoy her for some reason, and she goes back to her pile of mail. "He went to check in on everything at the office."

  "But you guys just got home," I say incredulously.

  "Yeah," she waves her hand. "You know how your father is."

  I grunt. "Yeah. Well, I'm going up to my room."

  My mother doesn't say another word. I watch her for a second, sorting through the mail before turning my back, and head towards the stairway. Skipping two steps at a time, I unbutton my shirt as I walk down the hall to my room. I rip it off my body, then toss it into the laundry basket just inside my closet. I pace my room until I settle on the edge of my bed--no longer thinking about the unexpected arrival of my parents--but the girl who takes up most of my thoughts anymore.

  The effect she has on me, the fact that I cannot stay away from her, and the primal urge to claim her. I'm experiencing feelings I've never felt before. I feel like a damn caveman right now; possessive and jealous. Shit. I just remembered I never responded to Veronica's messages. I pull my phone from my pocket and see that there are three unread messages.

  Nic: Helloo?

  Nic: Did you fall asleep on me?

  That makes me smile.

  Nic: Just let me know you’re okay. Please.

  Her last message hurts my heart. She's worried. I absently rub my hand across my chest. "Damn it," I whisper to myself. The last thing I want to do is cause her to worry. I send her a quick text letting her know I'm okay, and I'll see her in the morning. I toss my phone on the bed. My chest hurts no matter how much I rub it, so I stand up and stretch my coiled muscles. I rub the back of my neck and acknowledge that I need to let off some steam. My father has a make-shift gym in the basement that he occasionally uses and urges me to use as much as possible.

  The Army kept me in great shape, but I haven't worked out since coming home. Switching out my slacks for some sweats, I head down the two flights of stairs and into the furnished basement. The gym is situated in the far back so I have to pass through my father’s man cave--a typical room including a bar, a pool table, a poker table, a large leather couch, and massive TV hanging on the wall. One would think that this would be the place to hang out but my father would never let me have any friends down in his cave in fear that we would ruin something. Ironically, he's okay with me using his gym. Whatever.

  I make my way to the closed door and push it open. Immediately turning to the left, I open the cabinet that holds the surround sound receiver. The room is engulfed in hard rock music that’s coming from the speakers in every corner for the room, as soon as I push the power button. I use my foot to close the door and walk straight to the weight bench. The loud music is successfully wiping anything troubling from my mind. I check the weights on the bar before laying down on the bench. I go hard for about an hour but bench press less than my normal weight since I don't have a spotter. Safety first. I do one last set; exhaling as I push the bar up onto the rack and drop my arms. The burn I feel in my biceps and triceps is a welcoming feeling. I sit up and allow my breathing to slow, grabbing a nearby towel, and clean the sweat from my forehead. Powering off the receiver, I leave the room and snatch a bottle of water from the small fridge under my father's bar. I down half of its contents then make my way back upstairs; beaten and tired. My shower lasts five minutes. I'm in bed before I know it--so tired that I don't even think about anything else before letting my body drift to sleep.

  My alarm startles me from my deep slumber. I instantly reach out an arm to turn it off, wincing at the soreness. In the quiet room, I force my eyes to open and rub them with my fingers. I don't even recall falling asleep. It was probably the best I've slept in a long time. I stare up at the white ceiling before sitting up in my bed-- my hand hits something hard. My phone. I swipe it open, and there's another notification.

  Nic: Oh, okay. See you.

  Just reading her message...I know she feels dejected. The same pain I felt in my chest yesterday returns, but I don't bother to try and subdue it; nothing will help. I place my phone on the side table and stumble to my closet. My closet contains more button-up collared shirts and polos--all purchased by my mother. The thought alone makes me laugh. My mother buys my shirts. I sigh while pulling a shirt off its hanger, then remove a pair of slacks from another hanger. I know this is something I don't see myself doing for the rest of my life; I don't envision wearing polos and button-ups every day. I remember Veronica saying that she doesn't know what she wants to do, and she doesn't realize how much I can relate to that.

  At Twenty-one, I thought I'd have my life more figured out. The Army has given me amazing opportunities but I know that's not something I want to do forever, either. Once I'm finished dressing, I grab my phone off the nightstand and shove it into my pocket. Damn. I've been looking forward to spending these next few mornings with V, but now I'm dreading it--dreading knowing that I can't make this into the relationship I thought we could have. I must put a stop to this. I'm just not sure how.

  I drudge down the stairs and come to a stop at the presence of my father. I’m a couple feet
from the entrance of the kitchen. He's dressed perfectly in a suit; sipping his coffee while scanning the newspaper. I move further into the kitchen, grabbing a protein bar from the nearby cabinet.

  "Ah, Chase!" my Dad greets me.

  "Dad." It’s the best greeting I can muster.

  "I've heard you've done well while we were gone."

  "Yeah, well...I learned from the best."

  He beams at the compliment. "You'll do well once I retire."

  I stifle the laugh with a cough. "Yeah. I better get going."

  "Look at you!" he says with pride as I walk out of the kitchen. I pat myself to make sure my wallet, phone, and keys are all accounted for.

  The early morning air bites my skin as I stroll to my truck. I start it up and leave my driveway, heading in the direction of the Russo's home. My nerves begin to make me queasy. I force myself to take a couple of deep breaths as I turn into the driveway that meets a modest two-story home. I park in front of the door knowing she might be a few minutes because I'm a bit early. "This is for the best," I say to myself. "You know it's for the best."

  I see movement out of my peripheral vision and my head shoots towards the front of the house. My heart picks up at the sight of Veronica. She has another silver coffee mug in her hands...and that makes me unconsciously smile. Even though my messages were short and dismissing, she still made me coffee. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail high on her head, exposing her long neck, and making her features stand out. Her large hazel green eyes, slim nose, and plump lips.

  This is going to be harder than I thought. She opens the door and hops in. I immediately look forward, hoping she didn't see me looking at her.

  "Hey," her soft feminine voice is like music to my ears.

  "Hey," I say back, trying to stay neutral.

  She hands me the mug, and I place it in the center console. "Thanks."

  "Did my brother keep you out late?" she questions as she buckles her seat belt.

  "Not really," I say, simply and start to drive.

  "Oh."

  I feel so bad for being short with her. We were always friends before, but I don't know if I can ever go back to being just friends. The thought alone causes me physical pain. This is becoming a mess, and it's all on me.