Straddling The Edge

by Julie Prestsater

  Speak of the cheating devil. I’m not a foot away from my car before I hear his voice.

  “Summer, babe. Wait up!”

  I keep walking. Maybe he’ll take the hint. We have fifteen minutes to get to our assigned duties and I don’t want to be late, or show up flustered by his stupidity.

  “Babe, don’t be like that.” He catches my wrist in his hand and turns me around.

  “Don’t be like what, Chase?”

  The slimeball has the nerve to rub circles on the back of my hand with his thumb.

  I glance down at the connection and raise a questioning brow at him. “Get your hand off me. And don’t ever touch me again.”

  “But …” he starts to protest.

  “But nothing, Chase. I don’t even want to talk to you much less hold your hand. Just go away.” I turn to walk away and he follows at my side.

  “Where were you last night?” He has some nerve. I don’t answer him. “Summer, I called you several times and you didn’t answer. I drove by your place and your car wasn’t there. Where were you?”

  “That’s none of your damn business. I don’t see why it is so hard for you to understand that.” My pace quickens but he keeps up. Damn him.

  Without warning, he grabs my shoulder and turns me to him, stopping us both in our tracks. “Are you seeing someone already?”

  It takes me a second to realize what he’s asking me after being manhandled by the prick. “What? No.” But then an image of Sexy Guy flashes in my mind and I can feel my cheeks get hot. “Chase, I swear. If you don’t knock it off, I’ll file a complaint. Then, I’ll go to the police and get a restraining order.” The hard press of his fingers digging into my shoulder eases up. I’d already instinctively pulled my cell phone from my pocket. And if I had to, I was about to use those self-defense moves Sandra Bullock performed on Benjamin Bratt in Miss Congeniality.

  “I can’t believe you’re already screwing someone. Has it even been a month?” He steps away from me, with a look of disgust on his face. Join the effing club, buddy. It’s the same look I’ve been giving him since I found out about his other woman. He starts to walk away but then turns back, shaking his head. “What a whore.”

  Whore? Oh my. I have to fight every part of my body that wants to take off my boot and chuck it at the back of his head. In moments like these, I can totally see how some women go Lorena Bobbit on their men. He’s a total ass and is asking for it. How did I not see this sooner? I should be grateful he was unfaithful or I may have stayed with the bastard longer.

  I swear … I’m a douche magnet. I have the distinct talent of attracting dickhead men who don’t give a crap about me. I’m the in between woman. The one who they pass the time with until someone better comes along.

  You’d think I’d have kept my guard up, especially after last time. Did you really think I was going to stay with you? Marry you? You’re kidding right? You don’t even wear makeup. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you style your hair. Honey, you’ve got an awesome body but no one would ever know that with the way you dress. It was fun while it lasted but I was always looking for someone who was more of a woman. Jeff was my college douchebag and while it’s been five years, I can recall his last words to me like the latest top Billboard hit.

  I dated that one for over two years before I found out he’d been cheating on me for six months. Seeing him in action did wonders for my self-esteem. He was strolling out in the open on campus, without a care in the world, holding another girl’s hand. When I saw them, walking straight toward me, I stopped. My feet couldn’t have moved if I tried.

  He said, “Hey, Summer. Have a good class. I’ll see you back at the apartment.” And then he kept on moseying along, still hand in hand with his other girlfriend.

  I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know what to say or what to do. I think I just stood there, speechless and motionless for several minutes before I hightailed it back to my place, ditching class in the process.

  And that’s when he told me it was over. That I was just someone to keep him busy. Oh wait. First, he suggested that we still be together even though he was seeing someone else. Apparently, the other girl didn’t mind. But I did. I wasn’t about to be sleeping with someone who was obviously screwing another person on the side. Not knowingly, at least.

  When I shared the news with my mom, she wasn’t surprised. My mom has always been my biggest cheerleader but she said it couldn’t hurt to put on some blush and wear a better bra.

  At the time, I came to believe my lack of success with men came down to my lack of girliness. I was in dire need of a makeover, apparently.

  So that’s when I went from wearing Adidas hoodies, Gazelles, and jeans, with my hair in a braid or ponytail to wearing fitted pencil skirts, Miracle bras, expensive high-heels, styled hair and about twenty different brand name makeup products.

  But, the transformation didn’t work. Not on Chase, anyway.

  Maybe I’m destined to be an old maid. Maybe I should join the nunnery. When I turned thirteen, my dad started saying he was going to send me to one. He was joking, of course, but it doesn’t sound like such a bad idea after all.

  The graduation ceremony seems to fly by. It’s time for the faculty to stand in a long receiving line for the students to pass after they get their diplomas. While I stick to shaking their hands and bidding them farewell with the generic, “Congratulations” and “Best of luck to you” one of my colleagues, a quirky ceramics teacher takes a humorous approach.

  My ears perk up to her greetings, not sure if I’m really catching what she’s saying or if my mind is playing tricks on me.

  But sure enough, I hear her say, “Don’t forget to wear condoms,” to a kid with multiple face piercings and an 8-inch Mohawk. He takes my hand next and I shrug, a silly grin plastered to my face. To another young man, she says, “Dude, chicks don’t dig guys who can’t finish the job, so lay off the ganja.” Huh? But then she raises her pointed index finger in the air and lets out a dramatic whistle as her finger slowly falls. I get what she means when he stands in front of me smelling like a bong.

  “What the hell?” I glance at her in between graduates.

  “Just passing on little nuggets of wisdom.” If that’s what she wants to call it, then so be it. At least, it’s free entertainment for me. Something to make me laugh while I’m being smothered with germs. By the end of the night I’m going to need to dump my hands in bleach. “Wow, check out this one.” She gestures to a girl with cheetah print patent leather hooker heels and makeup painted on like a Bratz doll. “Hey, honey. Don’t wear those shoes to your first job interview and tone down the eye shadow a notch too.” The young woman nods like a bobble head with a fake smile.

  “She might need them for the kind of job she’s looking for,” I add, when the girl is out of ear shot.

  Thankfully, we have the chance to congratulate some of our college goers. I have quite a few who got in places with stiff competition like Berkeley and Stanford, Cornell and NYU. Some people think that just because I teach at a low-income school with a high minority population, we don’t have students who go on to four-year colleges. Well that’s just a bunch of B.S. We have plenty of students who continue their education and go on to do amazing things.

  In between telling these kids how proud we are, my partner reminds them about Planned Parenthood.

  “Hey, I don’t discriminate. Just because she’s going to an all girls’ college doesn’t mean she’s not gonna get any. In fact, she’ll probably get more than the girls who go to San Diego State.”

  I laugh out loud at that one. She’s probably right.

  By the night’s end, my hands feel dirty, my mouth hurts from smiling, the balls of my feet sting, and I’m freezing my tush off.

  The fireworks go off and caps fly in the air after the turning of the tassels. Tears threaten to spill over the edge of my eyelids. I’ve done enough crying in the last few months to last a lifetime, but this milestone in the lives of my students is
pretty darn special.

  “Ms. McG.” I hear my name called from behind me. I turn around and through the crowd I see my aide, Josh. “Ms. McG, I did it. I’m a big boy now.” The silly kid makes me smile. I’ll be shocked if he ever grows up. He’ll be forty still making fart jokes and giggling when someone mentions boobs.

  “Congratulations, Josh.” He opens his arms and I give the big dork a hug. “I’m really proud of you. Please let me know when I can come and see you play.” The kid is an amazing baseball player and could’ve been drafted to the big leagues straight out of high school but he chose to go to college first.

  “Of course. When I play for the Angels, I’ll send you tickets and you can sit right behind the dugout.”

  I raise my brow at him. He knows I’m a Dodger fan. “For you, I might even wear red.”

  He laughs and gives me a quick hug again. “I gotta go. Thanks for everything.”

  And he’s gone, just as quickly as he came.

  “So is that who you’re seeing? Boning your student, Summer?”

  Oh my. My shoulders get tense just hearing his voice. My head feels like a woodpecker is tapping on it with every syllable that comes out of his mouth.

  “Chase, don’t go there. That’s not even something you should joke about.” Like earlier, I hardly make eye contact with him and try walking away.

  And again, he takes hold of my shoulder, spinning me around toward him. We’re surrounded by graduates, parents, younger children, and other staff members. I glance in all directions wondering how I can get out of his grasp without making a scene.

  Leaning closer, trying hard not to touch my body to his, through gritted teeth I softly say, “Take. Your. Hand. Off. Me. Now!”

  His eyes narrow. His nostrils flare.

  For the first time in my life, I’m actually afraid of him.

  “You heard her, dickface. Get the fuck off.”

  Now that’s a voice I never thought I’d be grateful to hear.

  Chase jerks his head toward Melissa Gelson. “Stay out of it, Mel. It’s none of your fucking business.”

  “It’s my business now that you’re talking to my wife that way, asshole.” Tyler steps in front of Melissa and Chase removes his hand from my shoulder, backing off. Tyler closes the distance between them. “Are you okay, Summer?” He doesn’t look my way, just keeps his eyes on Chase.

  “I’m fine. Thank you.”

  Chase makes a pft sound, shakes his head and stalks off like a child having a tantrum. With all the celebrating going on around us, it doesn’t look like anyone else noticed the confrontation.

  I exhale a deep breath, trying to relax my nerves. “Thanks again,” I tell them, rubbing the sensitive spot on my shoulder.

  Chapter 3

  Melissa

  “Trouble in paradise?” I ask, raising a brow. Summer doesn’t look herself. Not at all. If I didn’t dislike her so much, I might feel sorry for her. Her hair is a bit of a mess and her makeup is a little smudged. She actually appears normal for once. Not like she just walked off the pages of an effing magazine.

  “I’m too tired to battle with you, Mel.” She hangs her head, inhaling and exhaling a long slow breath. “Thanks again, but I gotta go. Have a good night.”

  I glance up at Ty and he puts his palms to the sky with a shrug. His lips are pulled down into a frown and I know what he’s thinking. The same thing I am. Something is totally wrong here.

  “Hey, Summer. I’m just messing around. You’re obviously not all right. If there’s anything we can do, please let us know. No strings,” I cross my heart, “I promise.”

  Another winded sigh drags down her shoulders. “Chase and I broke up. He cheated on me. And now, he’s being a douche.”

  I try hard not to let a knowing grin spread across my face, but I guess I’m no actress.

  “I know, I know,” she says. “I deserve it.”

  “No, no. I wasn’t thinking that at all,” I lie. But I quickly recover with the truth, “You’re lucky. Chase is a Grade A dick and you should be counting your blessings you got rid of the asshole sooner rather than later.”

  She nods, a faint smile pulling up on the corner of her mouth. “Thanks.”

  “Hey, what are you doing right now?” I can’t believe I’m about to ask this. “Come out with me and Shel. The guys are going home to take care of the babies and we’re going out for drinks. Kind of an end of the year tradition.”

  Her eyes brighten, and I’m actually surprised. I never thought she’d be happy to socialize with us. We’ve tried it a few times in the past and it hasn’t always gone well. Mostly because she bugs the shit out of me, but I’m not that much of a bitch not to recognize a broken hearted woman in need. Isn’t there like a female list of commandments? Thou shall get a fellow girl wasted when her fuckhead boyfriend cheats on her, even if she isn’t your friend. Something like that must be carved in stone somewhere. At times like these, us chicks need to stand together and fight the evils of all things Chase Marino.

  My husband flashes a look of shock and I dig my elbow in his side.

  “I’m not taking no for an answer. You’re coming.” Linking my arm with hers, I pull her through the crowd and out to the parking lot. Tyler follows behind us. I glance back at him and he shakes his head with a chuckle. I eyeball him, giving him my knock it off look. In our heads, I know we’re both saying “what the hell just happened". But seriously, the girl looked like someone just ran over her puppy and I couldn’t just leave her looking all lost in a sea of people.

  Plus, I’m nosy. If I’m being honest, I’m not just doing this girl thing out of the kindness of my heart. I want to know the details. What the hell did Chase do this time? Or better yet, who?

  Ty opens the back seat passenger door for Summer and waits for her to slide in before closing it.

  “Wow,” she says. “Chase never opened the door for me.”

  “See. Further proof of his assholeness.” Am I the only one who saw what a dick he was from the first time I met him? He always rubbed me the wrong way. His ego was always way too big for his fat head. Most women just see his good looks and drop their panties, but I don’t care how gorgeous his brown eyes are or that he has hair like Patrick Dempsey. None of that ever appealed to me because he’s just so damn arrogant. The wrong kind of cocky can make a good looking man butt ugly.

  Now, my hot mother effer of a husband is a little bit cocky. And even a little bit arrogant. He’s an artist, so it’s natural for him. But he wears it like a sexy sheen of sweat across his naked body. It looks fucking good on him. My gaze meets his as he’s just about to close my door, and my heart melts just like it does every time he looks at me with such intensity. He winks and my body trembles for him. Just a little stare and he has my thighs twitching. Damn this man. We’ve been married for almost a year, we have our six-month old Mia, and the honeymoon is not even close to being over.

  It’s just a short ride to our house so I take out my cell and text Shelly.

  Start sayin ur goodbyes to Noah now. I dont have all nite to wait. Bringing a surprise. See ya in a few.

  Not even a minute later, my phone chimes.

  Surprise?

  I don’t respond because we’re at my house already and I want to run in and give my little princess a kiss before it’s momma’s night out.

  “Be right back, Summer.”

  I jump out of the car and sprint up the steps to my front door. My mom is already there with my baby girl in her arms. I sprinkle kisses all over her, give my mom a quick peck on her cheek, tell them both I love them and run back out to the car.

  Summer is now sitting in the front seat, and Ty is standing on the driver’s side, holding the door open for me.

  “Have fun tonight,” he says, when I step in front of him and curl my arms around his sides.

  Looking up at him, I smile. “I will.”

  “Be careful. If you decide you want to have one too many drinks, call me. I don’t mind going to get you. You dese
rve to have a good time.” He bends down so our faces line up. “I love you.”

  And then our lips are pressed together. The warm touch of his mouth on mine sends crazy tingles zipping up and down my body. When he adds tongue, slipping his into my mouth and tangling it with my own, I lean into him so I can feel the hard press of his muscular chest. I grip his hips first and then slide my palms down to grab a handful of tight ass. He moans against my lips and I have to tear away from his kiss before I never make it out of my driveway. His arms circle my waist and back for a tight squeeze as he trails kisses down my neck.

  “I love you,” he whispers against my ear.

  “I love you too.”

  I would have paid top dollar to get a picture of Shelly’s face when she spotted Summer in the front seat of my car. In fact, I wish she was the one doing the surprising because I wonder what my expression would’ve looked like.

  Summer taps on the controls to put the window down. “Hi, Shelly. I can sit in the back seat if you want shotgun.”

  Totally amused, Shel tells her not to move.

  “Just get in,” I hike my thumb toward the back, “We’ll explain on the way.”

  We’re not even a block away when Shel finally speaks up. “So what’s happening, ladies?” Which is her nice way of saying what the fuck is going on here?

  “You want to tell her or should I?” I ask Summer.

  “Well, that bastard of an ex of yours, Shelly,” she pauses, and Shelly leans in closer, poking her head between the two front seats, “is now my bastard of an ex too.”

  “Uh oh. Sounds like it didn’t end well.” Shel arches her brow at me and then turns back to Summer.