by Fields, MJ
“Sweet,” he says then ends the call.
“What’s the address there so I can message them?”
“I never said I wouldn’t drive you.”
“Savvy, you didn’t have to. No big deal. They got me.”
“I know you probably don’t believe this, but so do I, Patrick.” I pull over and throw his Jeep in park. “We both have a lot going on right now and—”
“I get that. Could you just get us back to the dorms so I can give them the address?”
“Patrick.”
“Savvy, it’s cool.”
“I don’t want you to think that I’m using you for—”
“Come on, Savvy; don’t, just let it go. I don’t need an in-my-face reminder of how fucking stupid the shit I’ve been doing is. Let this thing fade off, and leave me with some dignity.”
“That’s not even a little bit fair,” I tell him, fighting the breakdown that I feel coming on.
The phone rings, and he hits accept.
“What’s up, girl?”
“Hey, Tricks.”
“B, everything chill?” he asks.
“Yeah, we’ll be there in a couple minutes. Truth just got an invite from The Sound.”
“Tell her, fuck them. I found a bunch of chill people to hang with at the dorms.”
“You’re on speaker.” Brisa laughs. “She heard you.”
“Well, come on and get me. I messaged Uncle Cyrus and—”
“We know,” one of the girls—I think it’s Truth—tells him.
“Did I tell you when you come get me, I’m gonna call him and ask if he minds us going to an early breakfast so we have a couple hours more?” he asks, looking out the window and away from me.
“Sounds like fun, but Brisa is driving and—”
“You drunken tonight, T?” he says, and I realize he’s more fucked up than I thought.
“Clearly, you’re drunken more than me.” She laughs at his mistake.
“We’ll be there in a few, mmm’kay?” Brisa asks.
He looks at me. “Cool. Savvy and I’ll chill.”
“Cool,” they both say then hang up.
He’s no longer being short, or cold, or hurt. He’s pissed.
“Until we talk this through, would you—”
“Let. It. Go.”
“I don’t wanna let it go!”
He swings a very angry glare at me.
“I’m not like other girls you’ve—”
“I’m well fucking aware of that. You wanna know why, Savvy? Because no other girl would have me traipsing off to New York to get my very angry dick pierced, so that it and I had an understanding that we had months of healing before any playtime was gonna happen.”
“Wh-wh-what!” My mouth is unhinged, jaw on my lap. I have no idea what the hell that all means. I mean, I know what the piercing is.
“Wanted it done anyway,” he says as he texts someone. “Because yeah, I’m a teenager, who actually enjoyed a whole lot of sex. And BTW, so has everyone I’ve been with. Not one has questioned whether they liked dick after me.”
“You’re drunk, so shut up, Patrick.”
“Told you before, I’m a fucking catch. Four months, Savvy. Four months, and I was willing to wait four more, but this is some bullshit. You question my integrity when I walked out on that shit tonight. You get pissed because of Devina. I’d hand you my phone and tell you to tell her to back off your man, because she’s definitely coming at me hard. And hell, if you were actually my girl and not more like some twisted obsession that has me questioning what the fuck is wrong with me for waiting for this … this … fucking snowflake in July, rocking my confidence, you’d know damn well that you had nothing to worry about.”
“Yeah, well, this isn’t easy for me, you know.”
“And that fucks with me harder than the shit I just mentioned. You’re not the same girl with confidence by the ass loads, not when it comes to me, anyway. I see that fire; I’ll be damned if I’m the one to piss all over it. That, Savvy Sutton, is me respecting you. You’re welcome.
“So I’m calling it now, because, Savvy, this shit is getting out of hand, and I know even at this point, I can handle friends. I just hope that you can, too.”
I look in the mirror and see lights behind us.
Patrick looks back then at me. “You think you can get this back to the dorm for me?”
“Yeah,” is all I can say.
“See you around, Savvy.”
Chapter 19
"It took me quite a long time to develop a voice,
and now that I have it,
I am not going to be silent."
~ Madeleine Albright
Savvy
The first week after what felt like a breakup, the only thing that changed was he stopped coming to The Bean when I worked. At school, my morning still started with him and JT talking across me, about the shit happening with the Seashore app and Tobias and the others luring JT into an underground fight. My days, he still sits beside me in the classes that he had been sitting by me previously. However, there was just no knee nudges, and I didn’t catch him staring at me. He was even still coming in once in a while to help with the plates.
The second week was the same, it was also the week of the fight. The entire school was buzzing about it. I was reading more to escape it.
After work, I come back to the dorm, and Chloe is watching an old movie, Grease. She watches it on repeat, and by the time I have to go to work again, I realize what she was doing.
“Seriously, Chloe?”
“Sandy had to become a badass; you’ve always been one. You need to fix this shit.”
“I’m busy.”
“You have no idea what busy is until you decide to take on two men.”
“Okay, I’ve been tolerating this, been quiet and accepting, but I really think maybe you should choose.”
“They love me.” She shrugs, a look of contentment replacing the cornered kitten look she normally wears. “They both said so. And you know what didn’t happen after they both said it on separate occasions?”
What drunk Patrick said about her comes front and center in my mind. “No, but if it’s going to be graphic details or make me look at any of you differently, please save it.”
She smiles. “I didn’t run, Savvy. I didn’t wonder how they could when no one else has, and I didn’t look for another hookup immediately, in fear that, at some point soon, they’d realize I’m not good enough.”
“And that’s your norm?” I ask because, seriously, I don’t normally want details, but what she just said is kind of a big realization for her.
“I know you think that men are the only ones who are driven by sex, but some of us see it as the ultimate power move, too, so yeah, I do. I’m a ho,” she says then laughs.
Then I laugh, and we laugh together until we both practically cry.
“You’re no ho, Chloe; you just needed more love than one man could give you, to help you realize you’re worth it.”
“I know I don’t have to tell you this, but it’s still new. And, as much as it was a big fuck you to society, we all want to keep it on the downlow until we’re comfortable with it.”
I nod. “Of course.”
“And, Savvy, I’m telling you to go after him. He looks miserable, and you are miserable. Life’s too short, and you know that better than most.”
* * *
Chin up, tits out. That was the way I walked into homeroom on Monday, and no, I wasn’t the first there. I was the last.
When I sat between them, I looked at Justice first. “Congratulations.”
He narrows his eyes. “He tapped out.”
I shrug. “A win is a win, even if a fight is nothing more than two men trying to see who’s bigger.”
“The fuck you just say—”
I hold my hand up in front of his face, almost touching it, like he did mine that first day. “I’m entitled to my opinion, so suck it.”
Patrick leans over a
nd whispers, “You hang with Ziggy and Roach before school today?”
I glance over at him. He looks concerned. “Nope.”
“Huh,” is all he says.
I don’t leave the classroom as soon as the bell rings. I take my time.
Patrick and I are the last to leave. He stops and looks back at me, totally missing the fact I’m checking him out. Then he turns around in the doorway, nearly filling it, and looks down at me. “You sick again?”
I shake my head. “I feel fine.”
I grab his hand and place it on my head. “Do I feel hot?”
He narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.
I let go of his hand and duck under his arm, heading to Lit.
In Women Studies, I walk in, coffee in hand, and sit down.
He doesn’t look at me, just whisper-hisses, “Cut the shit.”
“What shit are you referring to? I’m just back to being me.” I turn and face him. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Why would I have a problem with that?”
“You seriously just hissed cut the shit to me.”
He nods. “Game on, Savvy.”
“Bring it, Tricks.”
“Consider it brought.”
The entire week, we dance around each other. If I said I didn’t like it, that would be a downright … truth.
In fact, I was so stressed that I was having a recurring dream that felt incredibly real, about Chloe and Patrick fucking at school, and me watching. If the universe was trying to tell me something, to abort mission, to stop the shit, I didn’t listen. I continued forcing myself to be in his face and not crawl into my comfort zone.
It felt fake. It was fake. It didn’t feel like us—the us I think I ruined.
But I persisted.
On Friday, I sent him a message, inviting him to Crystal Lake for a low-key party, because he told Roach and Ziggy that, although he was enjoying this game, he’d wait for an invite from me.
An hour later, I got sick of waiting, so I FaceTimed him.
He answered on three rings. “Sup, Savvy?”
“You don’t have to be a dick; you could respond to my message.”
“Yeah, well, I just paused porn to answer your call. Now who’s winning?”
I wait for him to laugh or smile or something.
“You got something to ask me, or are you just gonna sit there?”
“Whatever. Fuck you, then.”
“Definitely what every guy wants.” Then he hangs up on me.
* * *
“He’ll be here,” Chloe whispers.
“I don’t want him here. I want to get shitfaced, high, and not worry about anything but spending the weekend, that I took off, finding my center again.”
“Perfect idea.” Ziggy raises his red Solo cup, and I raise both of mine.
Little by little, a few more of Ziggy and Roach’s friends show up, and the small bonfire gets bigger.
As the sun begins to set, I’m so over it, and so wasted that I’m not even sure I’d recognize him if he did come.
Lies.
“I’m going to pee. Which way?”
Roach points to the trees. “Red scarfs. Follow the trail.”
Stumbling through the woods, having found no red scarfs, I just piss by a tree that could very possibly have poison oak on it. And I more than likely wipe with poison ivy.
Stomping and stumbling back, I follow the smoke.
Once on unrutted ground, I focus on the only red scarf-like material I’ve seen today. Roach is wearing a red bandanna. Asshole is either so stoned he thought his head was a tree, or he forgot to tie them on the trees to make markers. Either way, he’s my target, and anyone around him is collateral damage.
“What the fuck, assholes?” is all the warning they get when I charge toward them. And then I close my eyes and dive on them. “Nice directions, dickheads! I have bug bites on my ass and probably just wiped with poison ivy! Payback’s a bitch.”
When I stand up, Roach is laughing his ass off, and I kick some sand at him.
“Sleep light tonight. One eye open and shit.” Then I look for Chloe to give her hell. “What is wrong with all of—”
I clamp my mouth shut when I see him.
“Hey, Savannah.”
I don’t care how hot he looks; he asked for this version of me back, and he’s getting it.
I cross my arms and tap my bare foot that’s either numb because I’m drunk or because it’s getting cold. “How many times do I have to tell you my name’s Savvy?”
Everyone starts laughing.
“Why are you here?” I ask him then see his cousin, Truth. “And, you, please tell me you didn’t blast this party on that miserable fucking app. This is an asshole-free zone. Which, again, I ask the question”—I look back at Patrick—“why are you here?”
He sighs. “Come on, Savannah.”
I look at Truth. “Oh my God, was this one dropped on his head repeatedly on purpose? You can tell me the truth. I won’t turn his parents in. As a matter of fact, I don’t blame them.”
Patrick lunges at me, picks me up over his head, and I close my eyes because I’m going down and I’m sure I’m going down hard. But when he lays me on the ground, it’s softly.
“Has he always been such a giant child?” I ask Truth as I jump up to get away from him.
“He’s always been full of love, light, and a little fuck you.” She laughs sweetly.
“Who’s got the hooch?” Patrick asks.
I turn to find a drink, intent on drinking myself to oblivion, because this isn’t fun. This isn’t fun at all, but I asked for it.
I hear Truth whisper to him, “Am I driving?”
“Tent’s in the back, so—”
“What?” she snaps quietly.
“If you’re not having a good time, we jet. If you are, we stay.”
“My parents—”
He holds his arms up in the air. “Already got the okay.”
“ ’Cause he has a dick,” flies out of my mouth accidentally, but I have to keep going with it. “And … and he’s a white man. You’re all—”
“Shut it down, Pocahontas,” he interrupts me, a tight smile on his perfect lips.
I dive at him again, and he catches me and falls back hard. I land on top of him, again, and he laughs. It’s not sincere, and it’s embarrassing. I’m embarrassing, and I’m straddling him.
“See? You’re all the same.” I grab his neck and pretend to strangle him. “Indian with a dot, not a feather.”
He rolls me over easily and pins me to the ground. “Savannah, to me, you’re Pocahontas, because you’re a …” He looks at them all and mouths something.
Together, they say, “Savage.”
“You done?” he whispers his obvious annoyance so I’m the only one who hears him. Then he pops up and looks around. “Let’s hear some tunes?”
I walk away and try to get my shit straight, but I do so grabbing another drink, then going and sitting in a chair by the fire where a couple of Roach’s college friends are discussing politics. Although it’s not ever been my cause, I join in, and Truth sits next to me, listening while we bash everything corporate America stands for.
When I realize she’s gone, I feel bad. I feel like shit, actually. Then, as I walk up to her, I hear Patrick say, “Because she hates everything our family is about, and I’d never want to change a thing for her.”
I walk around the chair she’s sitting on to where he’s sitting on the ground. I think my intentions are to make peace, but I miss my mark and end up plopping right down on his lap.
“Savannah, what—” I put my hand over his mouth, and he finishes with a muffled, “—brings you here?”
“He’s afraid I’d change him is more accurate. That I’d have him joining the Peace Corps with me, and he’d end up wiping his million-dollar ass with leaves and drinking from red Solo cups.”
He laughs. “What would likely happen, Savannah—”
; I interrupt him, as I lean in to look for the green in his eyes. “You’re so annoying.”
“—is the second I was balls deep in you, you’d wave your white flag and surrender to my dic … tator ways.”
“In your dreams.” I lean in and give him a big kiss on the cheek, and when I realize what I’ve done, I hop up and nearly fall, but he grabs my hips and steadies me. I like it. I like it too much.
“Let’s play beer pong!”
Chapter 20
"Women must learn to play the game
as men do."
~ Eleanor Roosevelt
Patrick
I’m grilling meat, because not only is Savannah fucked up and needs to eat, but Truth is, too.
I brought her here to get away from all the Seashore crap she’s been dealing with. Mainly the fact that Harrison Reeves is going after her hard, so fucking hard that it’s confusing the shit out of her. And straight up, I watched the way she looked at Tobias Easton at the illegal as fuck boxing match they goaded JT into. She’s never looked at a guy like that. Never. And as much as I want to hate him, I don’t. He did a solid for Savvy, and he’s not like the other three shitheads who oversee that app that’s talked shit about my cousins.
But at least Truth’s making sense. Savvy either ends up with a spilt personality when she’s drunk or … yeah, that is the only fucking explanation that makes any sort of sense.
I had no idea she was a vegetarian, but drunk Savvy is, and she’s very adamant about it.
She told Truth I fucked Chloe at a cubicle at school, which wasn’t how that went down, and then the only thing during that entire conversation that was true, Truth didn’t know until now—my dick being pierced.
I mean, seriously?
What the fuck?
Looking around for them to shove tofu down Savannah’s throat and a damn burger in Truth’s mouth, I see them all snuggled up to each other, lying on the ground, looking at the stars.
When I get to them, I immediately see that Truth is fucking high as a kite.
Savvy looks at me, bottom lip popped out. “I think I broke her.”