by Bella Jewel
“Missy is a ho.”
He winks at me. “Good for me then.”
“You’re a piglet. Come on, Rai, I don’t wanna walk! You can poke Missy anytime.”
He snorts. “Down, tiger. I have business to take care of.”
I huff and jump off his truck, turning just in time to see Missy approaching. She’s the prettiest girl in school, so of course she’s in love with Rainer, considering he’s the best-looking guy in school. At least to everyone else but me, anyway. Okay, that’s kind of a lie; I can admit he’s good looking. Horribly so. Damn him. The older and more popular he gets, the more I feel like an ugly little boy next to him.
I’m no Missy.
Is her hair even real? I don’t think so. It looks fake blonde, like the yellow type, but it’s long and flowy. It’s her body and her face that get men. She’s got big knockers, which are most certainly fake. I heard a rumor that her parents paid for them. She’s all ass and tits. Her face is pouty, with big lips and giant brown eyes. She’s like a doe-eyed little dear, when really she’s as loose as a horny dog.
“Better get walking, Nerdy Turdy.” She smirks at me as she steps up to Rainer’s truck. “It’s going to rain.”
“Best you jump in then, Spastic Plastic. I wouldn’t want you to melt.”
Rainer snorts from the truck and her lips pout as she glowers at me. She swings the door open and I blow Rainer a dramatic kiss. He winks at me, and I turn before I can witness him suck-facing with Missy. Walking home it is. Fine by me. I probably need the exercise after the eight doughnuts I had today. Damn their doughy goodness.
I start down the main street, backpack slung over my shoulder. I’m wearing my chucks today, thank God, because there’s no way I could walk this far in anything else. My jeans are the oldest pair I have, and the shirt is one I stole from Rainer when he grew out of it. He’s got mega muscles now, the giant stud. My hair is shorter than I would like, but hey, who’s complaining? It’s low-maintenance.
I, unlike Missy, have real blond hair.
“Yo, Ems.”
I turn and see one of my close friends, Kenny, running towards me. He’s got his backpack over his shoulders and it bounces with every step. His long blond hair is flying around the in wind, and he keeps pushing his glasses up on his nose because they’re sliding down. He’s adorably gross.
“What’s up, K-dog?”
He stops when he reaches me, drops his hands to his knees, and starts panting.
“Dude, you need to get fit, seriously. You just ran, what, five meters?”
“Bite me, Em,” he grunts, straightening. “What the hell are you making me run for? Where’s Rainer?”
“Getting STDs with Missy.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Fucking gross.”
I snort. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly. I’m walking home, so if you wanna join you better stop that panting.”
“Dammit, you have my phone. Otherwise I wouldn’t be enduring this hell.”
I hook my arm through his. “Don’t be a hater. How was school?”
He shrugs, studying the side of my face with his light green eyes. “Are you wearing makeup?”
“No,” I snap, rubbing at my eye.
I am wearing mascara, but I couldn’t apply it properly, so I only put it on one eye. It wasn’t my finest moment. I don’t even know why I’m wearing it. I guess . . . well, there’s this guy . . . God who am I kidding? Most of the guys think I’m a dude.
“You so are,” he teases. “Who are you trying to impress?”
“I put it on one eye. It was an experiment.”
He shoves me with his shoulder. “Spill, Ems.”
I sigh. “Fine. I might have a crush.”
He whoops loudly. “There’s hope for you yet.”
“Eat me, dickhead.”
“Don’t be so mean.” He grins. “Now spill. Who are you checking out?”
I can tell Kenny anything. He’s been my friend all through high school. Not the kind of friend Rainer is, but close.
“It’s Jack.”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “No shit?”
“Yeah, but he’ll never notice me.”
He stops and swings me around with long, bony fingers. “Why not? You’re pretty.”
I blink. “Did you just call me pretty?”
He shrugs. “You are. So what?”
“I look like a man.”
He grunts. “Because you want to. If you wore a dress, and didn’t act like a tomboy, you’d look like a very pretty girl. Prettier than Missy.”
“Now you’re just being mean.”
He chuckles and throws his arms around my shoulders, walking beside me again.
“So, tell me about Jack. Have you spoken to him?”
“No,” I mumble. “I don’t even think he knows I exist.”
“Then make him know you exist!”
“That’s not possible.”
“It is. Wear something sexy.”
I scoff. “I don’t own anything sexy.”
He tilts his head back to the sky and rolls his eyes. “Then find something. Come on, if you want him to notice you, then you have to make the effort. Do you want to die a virgin?”
“Shut it, douche. You’re more likely to die a virgin than me.”
He grunts. “Probably.”
“Anyway, let’s not talk about it. Jack will never notice me—end of story.”
“If you say so,” he sings.
Bloody Kenny.
~*~*~*~
My window slides up and a booted foot comes through, followed by another, followed by Rainer’s big body. I’m on my bed, eating popcorn and watching Top Gun. I glance over and see Rainer turn and slide the window shut. Then he kicks off his boots and throws himself onto my bed. His hand goes out and takes some popcorn, and he fluffs some pillows behind his head and settles in.
“If you’re wet, or dirty, or sex stained, I’ll kick your ass, Rainer Torrence.”
He glances at me from the corner of his eye. “Sex stained?”
“Yeah, from slut-face. I mean, Missy.”
He grins at me. “Are you jealous, Emy?”
“Am I jealous for not having a bank of STDs?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, right. I get you.”
“Why are you here? I thought you’d be riding the pony all night long.”
He laughs, tossing a piece of popcorn at me. “I’m not the cuddling type.”
“So you only have one round in you? I’m sad for you, Rai.”
He wraps an arm around my neck, putting me in a headlock. “I’ve got plenty of rounds, smart-ass.”
“You smell. Let me go!”
“Nah,” he says, rubbing his underarm near my face.
“Rainer, I’ll break your dick off. Let me go!”
He lets me go with a chuckle and yawns, leaning back into my pillows.
“Your bed is better than mine,” he murmurs.
“You’re not sleeping here again. You snore.”
“Can’t make me leave,” he says, wiggling down into the sheets.
“I can, and I will. I’ll use force, and scissors.”
He raises a brow. “I don’t even want to know.”
“No, you don’t. Go home and torture someone else.”
“You love it when I’m here, Emy. Admit it.”
I grunt.
We fall silent and both of us focus on the TV. I glance over at him about ten minutes into our silence and decide to ask him a question, knowing he’ll give it to me straight. There’s not a lot I don’t tell Rainer.
“Hey, Rai?”
He looks over to me. “Yeah?”
“Do you think I’m pretty?”
He blinks at me. “Say what?”
Dammit, I didn’t say that right.
“I mean . . . do you think I’m pretty enough to ever get a date?”
He studies my face, and when he realizes I’m serious, he answers. “I don’t really see you like that, kid, but yeah, if I’m to ans
wer honestly then yeah, you’re pretty.”
“Pretty enough to get a date . . .”
“Yeah, for sure. Why?”
I look away and shrug. “No reason.”
“Oh come on, you gotta tell me now. Are you crushing on someone?”
I laugh. “No one says that anymore, dude.”
“Spill, Emalie.”
“Ohhh, using my full name. Shit just got real.”
He reaches over and puts his arm around my neck again. “I’ll use force.”
“All right, yeesh. I . . . I might want to ask Jack on a date.”
He’s silent, for way too long.
“Did you hear me?”
“Jack the Sack?”
I burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that’s so mean.”
“Hey, you call Missy Spastic Plastic.”
“You’re right.” I giggle. “But Jack isn’t a sack.”
“He’s a fucking dick.”
“So are you, and I like you.”
He flexes his arm around my neck gently. “I’m a good dick. He’s the bad kind.”
“How so?”
“He’s a user.”
“Meaning?” I prompt.
“He just likes to charm and fuck.”
“And that’s bad because . . .?”
He lets me go and stares at me, horrified. “Because you don’t fuck, Emy.”
“Why not?” I snap, crossing my arms. “I’m a girl, I’m seventeen—I should be able to fuck if I want.”
His eyes widen. “No. Just no.”
That kind of hurts, and my back instantly goes up.
“What, because I’m not fake and plastic like Missy, means I can’t be interested in popping my damned cherry?”
“Yeah, fuckin’ exactly,” he snaps. “Because you’re not fake, you deserve better than men like Jack.”
“Oh, you mean like a nerd, who probably refers to his dick as penis, who says things like ‘I’m going to penetrate you now’?”
His lip twitches. “No, but . . .”
“Agh!” I cry, climbing out of the bed. “You’re pissing me off, Rainer. Can you go?”
“No,” he says, getting out of the bed too. “I’m not leaving because you’re having a hissy. I’m just telling the truth. Men like Jack don’t go with girls like you.”
“Then who does go with a girl like me?”
He shrugs. “I dunno . . . Kenny?”
“Are you fucking serious?” I screech. “So in other words, you don’t really think I’m pretty. You’re just trying to make me feel good.”
“He’s a good guy.”
“He stutters when he talks, if he’s nervous. He has oily hair. What the hell, Rainer?”
“Okay, maybe not Kenny, but . . .”
“Just stop,” I cry, throwing up my hands. “You’re digging a big fucking hole for yourself.”
He blinks at me. “Did you just swear at me?”
“Yes, yes I did.”
“Ouch, kid.”
“Look,” I say, turning and catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, “I’m tired. Can you go?”
Rainer walks up behind me, and in the mirror I can see what it is he sees. Alone, I might be pretty, but with someone as striking as Rainer behind me, I’m simply average.
That hurts.
More than I could have ever imagined.
CHAPTER THREE
NOW – MALI
Hurt constricts my chest as I sit on my bed, staring at the wall. I don’t even know if Mimi is okay—I just ran out of the bar like a scolded puppy. I can’t believe Rainer didn’t remember me. How could he look at my face and not see the girl I was? We were best friends; we spent all our time together. God, we’ve been through so much. I’d never forget his face in a million years.
“Mali?”
The sound of Mimi’s voice travels through the house, and I pull my knees closer to my chest. I don’t know how to explain what went down tonight, or tell her why I left her alone. I don’t even know if I can form the words. My best friend growing up just looked straight through me.
“Hey.”
I look up and see her standing at the door, eyes narrowed.
“Ah, hey.”
“You left; I was worried. Are you okay?”
She rushes over and sits on the side of my bed, studying my face.
“Not really,” I whisper, looking at my hands.
“Did everything go badly with Rainer?”
“It didn’t even have that chance,” I murmur. “He didn’t recognize me.”
She’s silent for a moment. “Oh, Mali . . .”
“He just looked straight through me, as if he’d never seen me before.”
She wraps an arm around my shoulder, and shifts in beside me. “Maybe he was busy and barely took you in.”
“He looked right into my face, and studied me.”
“Maybe you’ve changed a lot.”
“I would never forget his face, Mimi. Never. How could he forget mine?”
She squeezes me closer. “You said there’s been a big change in you. Maybe you really are so different he didn’t recognize you.”
“Maybe,” I mutter.
“Show me a picture of you when you knew him, and we’ll decide. I’ll be able to tell you if it’s a massive difference, and then we can figure out where to go from here.”
“Okay.” I sigh, climbing out of the bed and jerking open a desk drawer. I ruffle through it until I find an old picture of Rainer and I.
I take it over and hand it to her. She snatches it from my hand and studies it, her eyes going wide. “That’s you?” she squeaks.
“Yes.”
“Holy shit, are you serious?”
“What?” I say, climbing back into the bed and looking at the picture.
Rainer looks so much younger in it, more than I realized until I saw him tonight. He’s a man now—he still has a boyish-look in this picture. He’s grinning, his arm slung around my shoulders. I’m wearing my usual jeans, baggy top and chucks, and my blond hair is in a pixie cut. I’m also wearing glasses.
“No, seriously . . .”
“What, Mimi?”
She turns to me. “Honey, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that girl looks nothing like you.”
“It does so!” I protest.
“Ah, no, no it doesn’t.”
“Yes. Look at my eyes.”
“It’s hard to see your eyes; they’re covered by massive glasses. What were you thinking? Those things are awful.”
“They were stylish.”
“Maybe for a gorilla.”
I snort. “But still, look at my face. It’s me.”
“No, you’re chubbier there.”
“I was not chubby!”
She laughs. “Not massively so, but you’re really slender now. There you have more booty and curves.”
“Okay, but still.”
“Your hair is blond.”
“Yes, and . . .”
“It’s short and blond. It’s now long, brown and completely different.”
“I know,” I protest. “But Rainer could be wearing an orange wig and glasses and I’d still recognize him.”
“Truly, would you?” she says with raised brows.
“Yes, I would. I’d know those eyes anywhere.”
She reaches over, taking my hand. “I hate to say this, I really do, but do you think maybe you paid more attention to those things because you loved him?”
Her words hit me like a slap to the face. “You mean because he didn’t love me, that he didn’t pay that much attention?”
She smiles sadly.
She has a point.
“He still stared at me. Hell, he fucked me, for God’s sake.”
“Yes, and I get that, but take it from me, you look one hundred percent different now. I wouldn’t recognize you if the old you walked in.”
“Okay, but—”
“Look, you don’t know what’s happened in his life in the last ten
or more years. Anything could have gone down, and for all you know he had amnesia and doesn’t remember anything.”
I raise my brows. “Seriously?”
She shrugs. “You never know.”
“So what do you think I should do?”
“Maybe go back . . . try again. Talk to him. Tell him who you are.”
“I don’t . . . I just don’t know that I can take it if he doesn’t remember . . .”
She purses her lips. “Then just go and hang out at the bar one night, talk to him, see how you feel after it. Make the choice if you want to tell him after you speak with him . . .”
“So I just pretend he’s a stranger?”
She shrugs. “It can’t hurt; just see how it feels, see how he is with you. There’s no rule that says you need to jump in and bring up the past. You’ve gone ten years without him, honey,” says, standing and patting my shoulder. “What’s another few days?”
She’s right.
Maybe slowly is the best way to go about it.
~*~*~*~
There’s a solid chance I’m going to vomit.
I’m at the bar again, it’s a Saturday night, and for the last week I’ve thought about nothing but Rainer and how I’m going to play this out. I decided I’d go in alone, and see if I could make conversation with him. Maybe he’ll give me some indication that he remembers—hell, maybe I can ask him about his past and he’ll mention my name . . .
Anything to let me know he wants to remember Emalie.
Tonight I just put on a basic dress. It’s pretty, but not sexy. I’m so full of nerves that getting ready was a mad rush. I left my hair down from work at the coffee shop this morning, and just ran a brush through it. I left my makeup as it was.
My stomach twists as I scan the bar, wondering if I’ve made the wrong choice. God, what if he’s not even here?
“Can I get you a drink?”
I look over to the beautiful blonde standing at the bar, watching me with raised brows. It’s not crazy in here tonight, like it was the other night, which mightn’t be a great thing. The mass of people could have been a great distraction. Instead, I find myself nervously biting my nails and wondering when Rainer is going to walk in.
“Sure,” I answer the girl tapping her fingers impatiently at me. “Tequila, straight.”
She raises her brows, but gets me the shot. I take it, hissing as the liquid burns my throat. It has to ease my nerves. The flood of warmth that washes through my body does calm it down a little, but not nearly enough.