Falling for a Bentley

by Adriana Law

  “I guess we can start by going over the questionnaire,” he suggests.

  “Okay.” Pen to paper I ask, “What is your full name?”

  “Jonah Tucker Stevens. Yours?”

  “Victoria Rose Anderson.”

  “Victoria Rose….” He tries it out, writing it on his sheet.

  “It sounds better when you say it,” I admit, slipping the strands of hair that have fallen into my face behind an ear. “Next question. Who do you live with?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” He answers with a smirk. I point at the questions on the questionnaire. He shows me his palms and grins. “Okay. I live with my mom.”

  “What about your father?” slips out. A wave of heat washes over me when I remember what Jonah’s mother said at the restaurant about his father leaving after he was born. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He shrugs a shoulder. “I’ve had a long time to get used to it.”

  The pen in my hand stills, my eyes coming up to meet his.

  “What about you?” he asks.

  “I live with my mother and father, of course.”

  “Any brothers or sisters?”

  “Nope. I’m an only child.”

  A corner of his mouth lifts. “I can tell.”

  I nudge his leg with my foot. “Hey, watch it. What about you? Any brothers and sisters?”

  “Do you see any?” He starts tapping the end of his pen on his binder, those deep brown eyes of his focus on me. “You said you were thinking about your grandma the other day in class. Is she your mom’s mother or dad’s mother?”

  “My mother’s.”

  “Does she live with ya’ll? Is she as feisty as your mother?”

  “No. She died when I was seven.”

  It’s quiet for a few moments and then his fingers brush my arm leaving goosebumps behind. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… shit, it was a joke. I had no idea. I’m taking it you and your grandma were close?”

  “Very.”

  “What was she like?” he pauses. “What’s wrong? You’re looking at me all weird…”

  “Nobody has ever tried to get me to talk about her. Everybody is always trying to get me to not talk about her… especially my mother.”

  “Maybe your mother is still hurting.”

  A laugh escapes. “I don’t think anything ever hurts my mother. She’s the most unsympathetic person I know. I don’t think she has any feelings about anything.”

  He shakes his head. “Really? I didn’t get that. She seemed a little too emotional. Intense. You can’t hate someone as passionately as she hates me and not know how to feel.”

  “She doesn’t hate you… she dislikes you.”

  He chuckles. “Glad you cleared that up. Seriously, you should give her a break. You might have lost your grandma, but don’t forget she also lost her mother.”

  “How did this turn into being all about me?”

  “I don’t know… seems to be your favorite subject.” He’s grinning when he says it, the most adorable grin I’ve ever seen, and I can’t resist smiling too. One of his hands slides over the comforter, covering my hand on the mattress his fingers mingling with mine. Heat spreads throughout my body. It’s a small gesture, but it’s a start.

  I clear my throat, “Next question. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

  He gives it some thought. “Hmm, I guess I see myself publishing my first book. It will be a huge success, of course. I’ll travel and sign autographs. Your turn. Where do you see yourself in five years?”

  “I see myself married. Kids would be nice.”

  “That’s it? Your only goal is to get hitched to some guy?”

  “Yes. I mean of course I want other stuff but mainly I want what my parents have. Separate they’re a mess, together they make sense. Everything else will be easier if I have someone to share it with, you know, to make decisions with as a pair. ”

  My eyes travel up to his face, certain I’ll see signs that he is on the verge of laughing, instead he seems to be deep in thought. He scratches his jaw. “That’s pretty cool. I’m all for true love but I’d like to accomplish a few things before I’m strapped down to a wife.”

  Not the response I was expecting.

  “Do you see yourself married to Colton?” he asks, his gaze slamming into mine.

  “That’s not on the questionnaire,” comes out strangle by my laughter. No. I don’t see myself marrying Colton.

  “I know. This seemed like the perfect time to point out that your boyfriend is a douchebag. I’ve never understood why you’re with him.”

  I read the next question. “If you were granted one wish what would it be?” He cocks a brow. I wave the paper. “It’s on there. Number four. Look if you don’t believe me.”

  His head tilts back, his eye’s shifting up at the ceiling. “If I had one wish, what would it be… let’s see.” I can see the movement of his tongue along the inside of his cheek while he is thinking, then his gaze settles on my face. I swallow hard as he comes closer. Warm breath hits the curve of my neck, but his lips never touch my skin. “Hmm, I’m still thinking…” He brushes my hair back off a shoulder, exposing the side of my neck. “One wish? That’s all I get?”

  I nod, because honestly, my mouth is so dry I doubt I’d be able to talk even if I tried.

  “I wish you were no longer dating Colton Bentley.” He drops back to where he was sitting leaving my insides twisted in knots. There is silence, a long stretched out moment where neither of us says anything but then he clears his throat.

  “Your turn,” he says. “What do you wish?”

  “You wouldn’t wish for something more substantial?” I ask. “Like the end of world hunger or world peace?”

  “Watching you with some other guy is pretty substantial to me. It’s my wish. I get to decide how I want to use it.” His gaze flickers to my bad leg, but then his gaze is quickly onto something else. No one ever wants to me to catch them staring. He says, “You can use your wish to end world hunger if you want to … or for something else.”

  “I wish—” I start, my gaze going to my bummed leg.

  His cell phone goes crazy with one text message after another interrupting where I was headed.

  Sighing he checks his phone. “Oh no,” he grumbles.

  “Is something wrong?”

  He clenches his teeth. “Have you ever wanted to shake someone hard until they wake up?”

  “Sure.” I laugh, thinking of my mother. “All the time.”

  “Will you be upset if we call it a night?” He closes his binder and stands up, frowning. “I’m sorry, Tori.”

  I do the same, sliding on my shoes and gathering my things. “Don’t be,” I smile, reassuring him that it’s okay. “We can finish it another night.”

  I spend the rest of the evening in the basement, carving. Until around 9:50 p.m. when I notice two missed calls from Keria.

  S.O.S

  Victoria

  I grip the doorknob tight. The brass is cold in my sweaty palm. My heart beats wildly in my chest threatening to leap up into my throat. On the other side of this door is Keria’s bedroom. Behind me an eerie silence stretches out, engulfing the small, four room duplex I just passed through only minutes earlier. Empty beer bottles are lined up on the glass coffee table in front of the dusty blue and mauve plaid couch. Beside the bottles is a crumbled McDonald’s bag, two unfolded wrappers, one still containing a partially eaten 99cent cheeseburger, ketchup smeared over canary yellow. There’s a dusty mirror and a straw. Nearby a television is on flickers of blue and white light pulsing in the dark, but there is no sound.

  Coming through I’d held my nose to avoid smelling the stomach-turning stench of the two litter boxes in a corner of the room. I don’t think my aunt ever bothers with changing either of them. Ammonia is the first smell you notice as soon as you enter the house. But there is something else in the air ... something hopeless. Everything in this duplex screams the people who live here have given
up, defeated by a harsh life.

  When no one answered my persistent tapping on the front door, I considered leaving, but Keria asked me to come. No begged was the more appropriate word. She’d called and left a message saying she needed me. Without hesitating I’d quickly pulled a gray Hoodie on over my tank top, ignored that the hoodie looked ridiculous with my pink and white polka dot pajama bottoms, slid into a pair of flip flops and rushed out to my car without telling my parents where I was headed at 2:30 a.m. Keria’s voice mail sounded urgent: her slurred speech, her sobbing, and her unspoken plea for help. It all left me with an uneasy feeling as if I could sense she’s finally reached her breaking point. I try not to look around too much and pity her life.

  Taking a deep breath, hand on the knob, I cast one final glance down at the used-to-be-beige carpet with its many cigarette burns; unsure what shape I’ll find my best friend in once I turn this knob.

  “Keria?” I call, carefully turning the door knob. The door gives way with a groan, swinging open on its paint gunked hinges. My entire body turns to stone. Air rushes from my lungs as if someone has buried their fist in my stomach, weeks of what I thought possible no longer an option. My reality is forever changed, defined by this moment. And all I can think is … why?

  I see the movement under the covers and it sickens me—flashes of flesh, sculpted muscles along Jonah’s back tensing and then relaxing, her long fingers curling, gripping those muscles. My mind trips over everything leading up to this moment. I should have been prepared. I should have seen it coming. This is my fault. I told her to go after what she wanted. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I can’t speak. I can’t think. I can’t react.

  A few feet away my best friend gasps when her gaze connects with mine.

  “I-I’m sorry,” I stutter. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Shit, Tori, can’t you knock!” I hear her murmur into Jonah’s shoulder.

  As he is getting off of her, my cousin stretches over the side of the bed, gathers her discarded top, showing the length of her naked spine, each vertebrae revealed as the sheet slides down to puddle around her waist making this all real.

  “Tori….” Jonah says as he slides from under the covers. “I swear. If you’ll give me a minute I’ll explain.” He stands beside the bed, naked, an image I soon won’t forget. He quickly tugs up a pair of jeans, not even taking the time to fasten them before he takes two steps toward me, barefoot and shirtless. My gaze darts from him to my best friend, from my best friend back to him, processing what I’ve walked in on.

  I feel like such an idiot. Everything I thought I wanted has changed and now I’m more confused than I’ve ever been. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it.

  Shoving her hands into the sleeves of her shirt, my cousin’s confused gaze meets mine dead on. She looks like hell: black mascara smudged, blonde hair tangled, blue-gray eyes rimmed with red from crying.

  “Tori, please ...” he takes a few unsure steps in my direction.

  “What the hell …” I hear Keria mutter, somewhere off behind him.

  Jonah takes another step toward me.

  “I’m fine. It’s okay. Just pretend I wasn’t here,” I say, backing up into the narrow hallway until my shoulder blades bump the wall announcing I can’t go any further. I turn and take off for the front door, ignoring the trembling in my leg, getting the hell out of there the only thought in my head. Footsteps trail me, quick and steady: past the ugly plaid couch, out the front door, down the wood steps. As soon as my feet hit grass I whirl around leveling him with every ounce of the hatred I feel welling up inside me. Light’s come on in the house next-door and I lower my voice fully aware all the slamming doors are causing a scene.

  “I’m serious! Go back inside,” I jab a finger in his direction. “I am fine! We’re working on an assignment together, that’s all.”

  I have no reason to be angry. I know that. I feel more humiliated than anything else. I want to crawl into a deep dark hole and never come out. I want to erase the years of disappointment.

  Jonah exhales a shaky breath, his face a little paler than usual. Good. I hope he feels like shit. I’ll never believe what another guy says. I’ll never trust another guy. First Colton’s flirting with Keria. Now this.

  “You do care,” he says. “It’s written all over your face, Tori.”

  “I. Do. Not. Care. You kiss like a dog, Jonah. Remember? ” I aim a finger at my chest. “That was me who said that in case you’ve forgotten. If I want a dog I’ll go to the dog pound.”

  Guys are all lying bastards. Perfect example—the guy standing in front of me seeming truly confused.

  “You’re being mean,” he says.

  I can’t resist laughing. Although it’s a weird laugh that kind of makes me sound borderline nuts. “No. I’m being honest.”

  “I’m not using her, Tori. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t.”

  He comes to stand right in front of me and reaches a hand toward my cheek.

  I cringe, my gaze snapping to his. “Don’t—”

  He retracts the hand, rubbing his short buzzed blonde hair instead, his facial features more relaxed than they’ve been in weeks.

  “Honesty will set you free,” I mumble under my breath.

  He tilts his head and studies me. “What?”

  “Forget it.”

  “Tori, you wouldn’t still be standing here if you didn’t care. I feel like you think I led you on. That I made you think we were more than friends and I believe I did. This is my fault. You and me… it’s what I wanted … what I thought I wanted for a long time. I shouldn’t have … Keria and I … ” he pauses, confusion marring his brows like he can’t believe what happened either. He swallows hard. “I felt sorry for her. Things kind of got out hand from there.”

  My eyes narrow. “Kind of?”

  He goes on. “What I’m trying to say is it was unexpected. I didn’t plan on this happening. I didn’t plan on her happening. I don’t know, maybe I have been lying to myself all along and there has always been feelings there. It’s hard to be around Keria and not care, you know?”

  Yeah. I know exactly how she sucks you in. She’s family. To hell with him. To hell with her. I sure don’t want to hear how they were drawn to each other. How they need each other. How they’re ‘meant to be’. And how I should think about Keria’s situation, her shitty past and feel sorry for her because of it.

  He exhales a breath and reaches out again, slipping his fingers in mine, holding them loosely like yesterday in his room. Yesterday when he implied he wanted me to break up with Colton. Yesterday when I’d believe there could be more. Yesterday when everything had been different and was starting to make sense. Only this time him holding my hand doesn’t hold the same meaning.

  Not even close.

  I know it and so does he. He’s letting me down gently, letting go of what-could-have-been for what is. Those brown eyes I’ve been fascinated with for weeks lock with mine, holding sadness and regret. His voice is like water crashing over battered rocks, “I really did like you. I was being honest about that. I’ve liked you ever since you started dating Bentley. I hated having to watch you with him everyday. It was torture, but then the party happened. The kiss. Then you said what you did about it.” I cringe realizing I actually barked at him. “ I figured you weren’t interested.” Jonah’s hand drops back to his side. Shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, his shoulders drop in defeat as he says, “She is annoying. I can’t stand how she acts like she’s better than everyone else … but it’s all an act, you know that better than anyone.” He focuses on a spot on a ground, the same spot that keeps drawing his attention. “Keria is the most insecure girl I know. The girl has major issues that grate on my nerves” He shakes his head. His gaze lifts to mine. “Keria doesn’t have anyone … except you.”

  “And you.”

  “Please, don’t let this—” he cast a glance over his shoulder where K
eria is emerging through the screen door. Her lips are pressed into a glim line. Her hands are clenched by her sides. Luckily she put all her clothes back on: slutty skirt and a tank top showing off her pushed up cleavage.

  I laugh under my breath. “She’s becoming her mother more every day.”

  “Don’t let this come between your friendship,” Jonah begs. “She’s your cousin.”

  Keria moves to the steps. I focus on her pink toe nails as she lingers on the bottom step and then my eyes lift to hers. Hers are wild and full hurt. She charges at me and I tense, my stomach plunging. Jonah intercepts, encasing her upper body from behind with his arms. She stuggles, trying to break his hold on her.

  “Stop! Stop it, Keria! It’s not her fault!” He breathes in her ear, his arms tightening as she tries to buck him off her. “If you want to blame someone, blame me!”

  There is nothing inside me but this building anger.

  Keria screams, “I can’t believe you! You knew I liked him! I confided in you and you were talking to him behind my back this entire time you lying bitch! You can’t ever be happy with what you have, can you? You’re a horrible friend! Hell, you’re a horrible person!” Jonah drags her screaming toward the house. She has no choice but to stumble along with him. Her eyes never leave mine though. “You deserve Colton!”

  My head snaps back at her declaration. I deserve Colton. What’s that supposed to mean?

  Keria doesn’t stop. “You should have done us all a favor and stayed in your basement whittling your damn STUPIDASS birds! I’m ashamed to call you family.”

  There’s only so much a person can take, before they’ve had enough.

  “It’s not whittling you manipulative slut!” I return. My gaze slides to Jonah. “All I can say is good luck. You’re going to need it.”

  Rip it off Fast

  Colton

  Bang, bang, bang, bang comes from downstairs, loud, non-stop knocking. I force open an eye, the other buried in my pillow. I reach for my cell laying on top the pillow thrown on the opposite side of the bed. My body doesn’t want to do what I’m telling it. It wants to sleep. I glance at the time. What now? Doesn’t anyone understand Saturday mornings are for sleeping?