by Monica James
Lucky breaks into a big sprint and does a circle of the parking lot, the wind catching in his wet fur. Then he comes back, charging toward us, stopping a few feet away, and begins a big shake down, drenching both Tristan and I.
I squeal like a girl while Tristan laughs loudly.
Lucky takes off again, running like the wind, his big, pink tongue hanging out the side of his mouth goofily.
I’m standing frozen, with one eye closed and mouth open, dripping wet. Tristan is still laughing and decides I’m not wet enough as he squirts me in the chest with the hose. The spray of water is cold and I screech in shock, turning my back on him, which he takes as an invitation to spray me further.
“Ahh! No fair!” I shriek, running away from him, which is pointless, as the range on this thing is like a freakin’ fireman’s hose.
Lucky joins in, bouncing up and down, barking happily as I run around the parking lot, squealing like an idiot.
“Tristan, stop!” I yelp with my hands out in front of me, and my body twisted at an odd angle to shield myself from the spray.
He’s laughing hysterically and finally stops, happy with his handiwork.
I look like a drowned rat with my long hair plastered to my cheeks as I trudge over to him, my Chucks swishing with each step I take. I try and appear mad, but as I get closer to Tristan’s bright eyes, I can’t help the smile that spreads from cheek to cheek.
“You’re lucky I needed a shower,” I joke, gathering my hair in my now clean hands and wringing out my soaked locks.
“Sorry, it was just too perfect an opportunity.” He laughs deeply, looking at my saturated state.
“Oh yeah?” I say, pursing my lips, eyeing the hose hanging loosely in his hands.
“Yeah,” he replies, totally unaware that I’m about to beat him at his own game.
I make a mad reach for the hose and easily snatch it out of his grip. Tristan’s eyes widen, and before he has a chance to speak, I direct the hose at him and hit him square in the face. He splutters, closing his eyes, but I don’t stop. I instead aim a little lower and run backward, while spraying him in the chest.
“Oh, you’re so paying for that,” he chuckles while flicking back his hair, rubbing the water from his eyes.
“You have to catch me first,” I mock, turning the hose off, standing my ground.
I can’t help but admire the way Tristan’s white t-shirt highlights his upper torso, emphasizing his hard chest and sharp collarbones as he stalks toward me.
Wow, he is pretty amazing. But I feel wrong looking at him that way and avert my eyes while turning the hose back on, spraying him some more to distract myself from ogling him inappropriately.
“Paige!” he laughs, turning his head away, but he continues pursuing me.
Suddenly, the water dies off, and I turn to see that Hank has turned off the tap, with a big ol’ cheeky grin on his face.
“Traitor!” I yell at him, giggling.
Tristan quickens his pace and before I know it, he has me wrapped in his strong arms and is lifting me off the ground.
“Put me down!” I yelp, swatting him on the back, and I wrap my legs around his waist because I’m about to fall face first.
But he only does the opposite and shifts me further up his body. With no other choice, I wrap my arms around his neck to gain my balance. We are eye level, our chests rising and falling quickly, still pumped with adrenalin. Suddenly, the position I’m in becomes a little awkward and I begin to wriggle free, as I feel like I’m doing something wrong, being in his arms this way. Thankfully he lets me go, but I don’t fail to see the heat in his eyes.
“You play dirty,” he says with a smirk.
I return his smile, but realize things are about to get complicated.
Chapter 22
Pandora’s Box
The next week I quickly fall into the routine of going to work, going to the gym, and hanging out with Tristan. I don’t know how it happened, but I don’t question it because I really enjoy his company.
Of course, Quinn has been nonexistent all week, and whenever I ask Tristan casually where he is, I get the same response of, “I dunno.”
Lucky has been staying with Tristan, as we’ve been booked up at the motel, which is awesome. I have a feeling Hank is in some financial trouble, as I walked in on him having a heated argument with someone on the phone, and I could tell it was about him owing money. When I asked him if everything was okay, he brushed it off as nothing, but I know better. Hank is no liar, and it’s written all over his face that something is up. I really want to help in any way I can, but it’s kind of hard helping when you don’t know what’s wrong.
Tabitha, Tristan, and I finally made it to the movies and watched Clerks. I made sure Tabitha sat between Tristan and me because I know he likes me. And I like him, too, but as a friend, nothing more. I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship, as it’s really important to me, so I hope he gets the subtle hints I’ve been dropping that I’m not looking for anything more.
Tristan and Tabitha are the first true friends I have ever had, and I find myself sometimes slipping up, and forgetting that I’m on the run for shooting my dad. That’s what they do; they make me feel so normal that I almost forget that I’m not.
I came here for a reason: to work, stay to myself, and leave when the time is right. But the more time I spend here, the harder it is for me to picture myself anywhere but here, surrounded by people who are actually my friends. I haven’t even thought about my mom in over a week, which scares me, because I can’t allow myself to get too attached, because Hank, Tabitha, and Tristan know Paige, not Mia. The question is, if they knew Mia, would they like her? After everything she has done, would they still want to be her friend?
The thing that scares me the most is, I think that they would.
***
“Do you think he’ll like it?” Tabitha asks, holding up a t-shirt with a Superman logo.
I nod. “Definitely. He’s a total nerd and he can live out his superhero dreams wearing that,” I smile when Tabitha rolls her eyes.
“You’re so right,” she replies, tucking it under her arm while we walk toward the register.
It’s Friday night and its Tristan’s birthday tomorrow, so Tabitha and I are cramming in some last minute shopping. I had to wait until I got paid, as money is running a little low, and to be honest, I haven’t saved anything. I thought I would be beside myself, but I’m not. The things I have spent my money on has been money well spent. I know I’ll be staying in South Boston longer than planned, and I’m okay with that. I think the hard part will be leaving.
Once Tabitha pays for the t-shirt, we decide to visit the food court because we’re famished.
“I think I’m going to order a salad,” she says, eyeing the menu while biting her lip.
I give her a small smile as I know she’s going to stick to her whole, ‘I’m getting skinny by summer’ plan. I think Tabitha is perfect just the way she is, and I don’t see her ‘muffin top’ or ‘thunder thighs’ as she calls them. All I see is a person who lights up the world just by being herself.
“You have whatever you like. You know we’ll just burn it off at the gym when hitting Brad, sorry, I mean the bag.” I chuckle at the intentional slip, as we’ve been calling the punching bag Brad to give Tabitha the inspiration to bash the shit out of it.
It’s worked.
“What are you going to have?” she asks, with her back turned to me while perusing the menu up on the board.
“Yeah, Red. What do you want?” a voice whispers in my ear.
My whole body becomes taut and I hold in my breath as Quinn is pressed up against my back. I can feel his warm breath tickling my throat, and I can’t stop the goose pimples that spread across my arms, which I fold around my waist nervously.
“Paige?” Tabitha questions when I don’t answer her, but I can’t.
I feel like my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and swallowing is slowly becoming an iss
ue.
She turns and her eyes widen when she sees Quinn standing behind me. Her eyebrows rise into her hairline, obviously confused as to why I’m basically piggybacking Quinn.
“Um, hi, Quinn,” Tabitha says, looking at me instead of him.
“Hi, Abi,” he replies and God damn him, he’s so close to me, I can feel the heat radiating off his body.
“What are you doing?” she asks, pursing her lips.
She extends her hand to me as I seem to have forgotten how to move. Thankfully, she spins me around to face Quinn as I slip my hand into hers. But I wish my back was still turned, because my memories of him have not paid him justice.
He’s wearing ripped blue jeans, navy Chucks, and a faded The Cure t-shirt. His hair is sitting messily, slipping over one emerald eye, while the other is making it more than obvious that he’s currently checking me out.
“I’m here to get my bratty brother a birthday present,” he replies, still eyeing me like I am a big, juicy steak.
“Ah-ha,” Tabitha says, totally unbelieving.
As Quinn brushes his long bangs out of his eyes, I notice his knuckles are red and scabbed.
“What happened?” I ask, looking down at his hands.
Quinn shrugs and toys with his lip ring playfully.
“Where have you been?” I ask, trying not to sound too miserable.
“Here and there,” he replies vaguely.
His evasive response pisses me off.
Does he not remember what happened between us on the sofa? Did it mean nothing to him? Looking at the tall, dark, and perfect in front of me, I know that the answer is probably no. I’m sure Quinn is not short of female attention, and I’m yesterday’s news.
The thought doesn’t sting as much as it pisses me off, and the wall that I’ve built up around me suddenly erects back up.
“Well, how about you go back over there and leave us alone?” I say with a bite of venom behind my words.
Tabitha gasps, and Quinn’s mouth turns up into a small smile.
What the hell is wrong with him? That was meant to be an insult, not amusing.
I turn my back on him and pretend to busy myself with the menu, and not how I’m shaking in rage because of the feelings he evokes in me.
Tabitha gives my arm a supportive squeeze while I exhale in anger.
“Red, don’t be mad at me,” he whispers against my ear as he presses into me. “I told you, it’s for the best.”
I’m about to spin around and give him an earful, but he adds softly, “You think it’s easy for me to stay away from you, especially after the other night? You’re all I can think about, all I can smell… all I can taste.”
An intake of air gets caught in my throat and I think I’m about to choke. Tabitha is watching our exchange with wide eyes, but I can’t pull away.
“You deserve to be happy, and you’ll get that with Tristan. With me, you’ll only end up getting hurt.”
I freeze as soon as he mentions Tristan. This the first time he has openly confessed the reason why he’s staying away is because of him.
“How do you know? You won’t even try,” I whisper, and I know he can hear the desperation in my voice.
“Because, Red, being with you would possess every single inch of me, and you’re not ready for that.”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” I whisper.
“No,” he replies, kissing the shell of my ear. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
I have no idea what he means, but I hear an ominous message behind his words.
He gives me one final kiss on my neck, just below my ear, which sends an inferno from head to toe as I feel his lip ring dig into my skin, and then, he’s gone.
I take a deep breath and a tsunami of emotions roll over me.
“Paige, are you okay? Here, sit,” Tabitha says, linking her arm through mine and plonking my comatose ass into a seat.
“What was that?” she asks, her eyes wide, looking over my shoulder to where Quinn went.
I shake my head, biting my lip.
“Has something happened between you guys?”
I know by something, she means sex.
“No, nothing like that,” I reply, finally finding my voice.
“Then what?” she asks, reaching out over the table and rubbing her thumb over my hand comfortingly.
“We, I dunno… fooled around a little,” I reply, shrugging uncomfortably.
Tabitha’s mouth opens wide. “When?” she asks.
“The night I got Lucky.”
“Oh my God, you got lucky?!” she shouts, misunderstanding me.
I let out a small chuckle as she has no volume control when excited. “No, not lucky, lucky. I mean Lucky, my dog.”
Tabitha nods, her mouth forming into an O, and she gives me her full attention.
“I crashed there that night, stayed on the couch. Quinn came downstairs and said it was best if we stayed away from each other.”
“From what I just saw, that definitely does not classify as staying away from each other,” Tabitha says, eyes wide.
“I don’t know what to think. We haven’t even kissed, this is ridiculous.” I sigh, covering my face with my hands.
Tabitha reaches for my hands and removes them from my face.
“Honey, what just went on between you two was explosive. I have a feeling the tables would have had to be cleared if you guys had kissed. You obviously have some kind of connection, I mean sheesh, I felt like I was intruding on a private moment.” She gives me a small smile before she continues. “I don’t think you guys can actually stay away from each other. It’ll only be a matter of time before you both succumb to something that is inevitable.”
Is there any truth to what Tabitha is saying?
Deep down, I know that there is.
***
Tossing the Tim Burton collection of DVDs I purchased for Tristan’s birthday gift onto my bed, I’m grateful I purchased them before bumping into Quinn.
I pace the room because I can’t sit still. I feel edgy, but most of all, I’m confused. I’m so confused by everything Quinn-related. The way he touches me is not the action of someone who wants to stay away from me. I know for certain he’s doing this chivalrous act for Tristan’s benefit, but it’s not Tristan I want. I knew from the first moment I laid eyes on Quinn that he was going to be trouble, I just didn’t know how much.
I flop onto the bed and sink into the spongy mattress, raising my eyes to the ceiling angrily. This is why I never got involved with anyone back home. I had enough crap to deal with, and didn’t need relationship woes to add to the shit pile. But now that I’ve opened up Pandora’s box with Quinn, I can’t shut it back up. And I don’t want to. I want to experience all the hype that comes with a relationship, and I only want to do so with Quinn.
Turning to look at the nightstand to see what the time is, my eyes fall on a one hundred dollar note, instead of the digital clock. I sit up quickly and brush my fallen hair out of my eyes. I snatch the note off the table, wondering where it came from. I certainly haven’t left it here. And it didn’t appear out of thin air.
Turning it over, I notice it is smeared with a spot of blood. I cock my head to side, deep in thought, fingering the corner of the note.
Then I remember Quinn’s knuckles. Could it be? Did he pay Jimmy a visit and get my hundred dollars back? I recall how mad he got when I mentioned I paid Jimmy for Lucky, but I never thought he would go get it back for me. I never expected him to.
This is a total mindfuck.
Falling back onto the bed and squeezing my eyes shut, I hope to fall into a dreamless slumber where a pair of emerald eyes won’t be the main attraction in my dreams again tonight.
Chapter 23
Fool
“Are you sure this dress looks okay?” Tabitha asks, standing in front of me shyly in a blue babydoll dress.
Lying on my bed and sucking on a raspberry licorice swirl while swinging my legs in the air, I m
ull over her outfit.
“You look awesome,” I reply, swallowing down the sugary candy.
It’s funny that I have no qualms about her being here. When I told her I was staying at Night Cats, she just smiled and asked if it would be okay to hang out here, rather than her place. I knew it had to do with her mother, and quite frankly, I prefer it here where we both can be ourselves.
“You think? I don’t look overdressed, or… fat?” she asks, blushing at her comment.
I throw the end of my licorice at her and sit up.
“Stop that. You look fucking amazing. I’m sure Tristan will think the same.”
Tabitha blushes, as she bashfully confessed she’s sweet on him, but she’s adamant she doesn’t stand a chance against me. She knows I’m not into him that way, but said Tristan will never look at her the way he looks at me, which freaks me out. I don’t want him to be looking at me other than as a friend.
“Let’s go,” I say, rolling off the bed.
“Wait!” Tabitha shouts, running over to me.
She pulls out a wand of lip gloss and paints my lips with a fine coat.
“Better. Now you’re all ready to pucker up for Quinn,” she smiles, nudging me in the ribs playfully.
“Quit it.” I chuckle, swiping her hands away.
But deep down, I am a little excited to see Quinn. I need to ask him if he did indeed leave the money I found last night, and if he did, then why.
“Uh-oh,” Tabitha says playfully.
“What?” I ask, my gaze snapping to hers.
“You’ve got the Quinn Look,” she replies, her eyes lighting up.
“The what now?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“The Quinn Look,” she repeats. “It kinda looks something like this.”
And she places both hands over her heart, tilting her head to the side with a faraway look plastered all over her face, while fluttering her eyelashes.
“Oh, I do not!” I retort, slapping her on the arm playfully.
Tabitha chuckles while I cock my eyebrow at her jokingly.