The Other C-Word

by Schiller, MK

  I turned back to Stevie, shaking my head. “He’s crazy, but you have to love him.”

  “Yep, he’s your bestie, but he belongs to all of us now.” It was true. Dillon was family.

  “I can’t believe you’re getting married,” I exclaimed, clasping her hand.

  “I can’t believe you’re in a relationship. Maybe you’ll wear white sooner than you think?”

  My smiled disappeared. “Stevie, I told you Rick’s leaving.”

  “Hmm…and I recall telling you that things like video chat, email, snail mail, phones, text, busses, planes and trains actually exist. You don’t have to end it just because he leaves. If you think the long-distance thing will be too hard than you should have that conversation with him. I can tell he’s really into you, Mar.”

  “You know I can’t do that. Our relationship would never be normal. There’re so many logistics and complications.”

  “That’s only because you make it complicated.” Stevie punctuated her words with her famous eye roll. I swear she was going to go blind from that one day.

  I downed my Long Island. “Stop. We deal with my crazy all the time. Tonight is your night. Let’s just celebrate you and dance like we did when we were little.” I grabbed her arm, pulling her towards the dance floor. We made our way in the direction of our group, which was on the far side of the club, when a certain song came on that stopped both of us in our tracks.

  It wasn’t an inspiring song and maybe wasn’t even appropriate, but I thought it was one of the most danceable, especially for a girl. Stevie loved it too. I had no idea how My Darkest Days made Porn Star Dancing sound incredibly awesome, but it totally brought out the hidden porn star in all us girls. Stevie and I stared at each other, knowing what we had to do. Yep, we performed our best—somewhat slutty—dance moves. Sometimes a girl just has to be naughty.

  The club was crowded and we only had a small patch of space to ourselves, which was why it shocked me when a huge guy managed to wedge himself between us. He had to be at least seven foot, and he was as large as he was tall. He was bald and covered with tattoos and piercings. I imagined if Mr Clean had a crazy nephew, this dude would be it.

  He grabbed Stevie’s hips and grinded into her pelvis. What the hell! That man was being inappropriate with my sister, and she was betrothed to one of my best friends. I had no idea why the word betrothed came to mind, but that was my first thought. My second thought was to save her by jumping on his back. I chalked up this bit of wisdom to my friend, Mr Long Island. In actuality, this was an extremely stupid idea because me jumping on this giant’s back was the equivalent of Van Morrison jumping on my back minus the claws. He managed to shake me off easily, and I fell on my ass. I had no idea how the people got out of my way so fast, but I lay on the ground, flat on my butt staring up at the bald tattooed Goliath in front of me. He smiled, or rather sneered, at me, and held out his hand. He was bent over and at first, I thought he was trying to help me up. In my defence, I’d just fallen, it was loud, it was crowded, and Mr Long Island had hijacked my brain. It was in this mentally challenged state that I accepted his hand. Instead of helping me up though, he touched my boob and squeezed it…hard.

  That was it, my alter ego, ‘Tuff Gong’—one of Bob Marley’s nicknames too—emerged and took charge. The douchebag was standing over me, slightly bent at the knees. His ankles were next to my splayed legs. I used the best weapon in my arsenal that would yield the most pain at this angle, the six-inch, sharp, stilettos on my feet. I drove a heel into each of his ankles, propelling them deeper by bucking my hips. In retrospect, another very stupid idea because when a huge guy was peering over you, and you basically knocked his legs out from underneath him, there was only one place for him to go—he fell right on top of me. Luckily, he held his arms out, which prevented him from totally crushing me. I had to look like a sparkly flaying fish, flopping underneath his weight. I tried to breathe, but he was heavy, and the smell of his sweat intermingled with twenty kinds of alcohol he must have consumed did not help.

  I heard Stevie scream like she was the one in pain. I felt dizzy and tired, but then I was suddenly able to take a deep breath when he was miraculously lifted off me. I stood immediately, to avoid being further trampled. I was completely disoriented and confused, but I saw Adam holding one of Mr Clean’s nephew’s arms and Rick holding the other. I didn’t question what they were doing here or if this was even real. In that moment, I thought they were holding him back for me, as two dear friends would, so I could get my revenge. I did the only thing a girl like me could do. I punched Mr Clean’s nephew square in the nose. My fist hurt, my head hurt, but I smiled when I saw the small trickle of blood flow down his nose.

  He stared at me, blinking rapidly, trying to comprehend what had happened. Then he managed to glare at me, and when he spoke, his voice boomed over the loud music and frenzied dancing, “You fucking cunt!”

  Uh oh, he said the other C-word! The naughty one you never call a lady. I didn’t know if it was the energy, the special tea from Long Island or the intensity in the club, but it seemed like things started happening in slow motion. I didn’t see Rick or Adam. I just saw their fists as they crashed into the guy’s checks, one on each side. I’d never seen a guy punched in the jaw simultaneously from both sides of his face. They both had to do uppercuts, because the dude was crazy tall. His whole face reverberated from the impact, as if he was in a zero gravity zone. The trickle of blood I’d caused became a gush and flowed down rapidly, covering his mouth and lip ring. It looked like lava, flowing over the black rose tattoo on his neck—making it a bloody rose—and down his white shirt. The image would remain etched into my mind forever, regardless of my foggy state.

  We were the good guys, teaching this very bad guy a valuable lesson. You can’t grind against girls at a dance club, you can’t cop a feel with a random stranger and you certainly can’t call a lady the C-word and hope to get away with it. I know it’s not a typical girly thought, but I believe something bonds you when you beat up a bully as a group. In that moment, something bonded Rick, Adam and I. Even Stevie was part of it with her frantic screaming and cursing. I’m sure the opposite is true and if we were bad guys we’d bond too, much like the mafia or street gangs are bound together, but in this instance, even though it was an unfair fight, we were the good guys.

  Twenty minutes later, the good guys were walking towards the parking lot, a little less triumphant. I was happy to be outside and my head felt better. Rick’s strong arms around me helped. Adam and Stevie walked in front of us.

  “I can’t believe they kicked us out,” Stevie complained. The rest of our party was inside, most likely oblivious to the fact that we were not. The higher the cover charge, the more bouncers there were, and Club Cassbar had the highest cover charge in Chicago. They escorted us out very quickly and efficiently, without causing a scene.

  “I don’t even understand why you guys are here,” Stevie said, glaring at Adam. I knew she wasn’t really mad, she was just freaked out, and that was how Stevie acted when she was upset. She manifested all her fears into pissed off, venom, bitch mode.

  “Babe, we weren’t having any fun at the strip club. We wanted to come and hang out with you girls. I talked all my boys into coming here. I mean, those girls didn’t hold a candle to you.”

  Stevie instantly smiled. Wow, Adam definitely knew the right stuff to say. We approached the limos. Adam’s Hummer limo was right next to our more classic limo. I didn’t know why boys always had to go bigger. From Stevie’s descriptions, Adam didn’t need to compensate for anything. A fact I wish I didn’t know.

  “I’m sorry I ruined your night, baby,” Adam said, kissing my sister so tenderly it made my heart swoon.

  “You didn’t ruin it, I did. I punched the guy first,” I said, absorbing some of Stevie’s frustration.

  “You didn’t ruin it, Marley, that asshole did. Nice right-hook, by the way,” Rick said, taking my hand and kissing each of my knuckles.

&n
bsp; “Yeah, Rick’s right. He totally did. Are you okay, Marley?” Stevie asked me.

  “Hell yeah, Mr Clean’s nephew isn’t going to get one over on me,” I replied. They all stared at me in complete confusion. “Oh, that’s what I nicknamed him.”

  They all gaped at each other until the visual dawned on them, and they started nodding in agreement. “I can totally see it,” Adam concurred. “What did he do anyway?”

  “What do you mean? You didn’t see?” Stevie asked, inspecting Adam’s hand.

  “All we saw was him falling on Marley. We thought he was just drunk and fell, but after Marley punched him, I figured there might be more to the story.”

  Stevie cleared her throat and I wanted to scream at her not to tell them because this would only end badly, but Stevie didn’t hear my silent plea. When we were little girls, we’d spent a whole afternoon, intensely staring at each other, trying to form telepathic messages. It was a complete waste of a Saturday afternoon because she’d been oblivious to every mental command I had ever given her. “He grinded against me and Marley was trying to protect me. I think he squeezed Marley’s boob too. Did he, Marley?”

  I bit my lower lip, unsure of my response. I looked back and forth between Adam and Rick and if the climate weren’t so tense, it would almost be comical. It was dark, but I swear they both had the same vein throbbing in their neck and their faces were flushed with rage. They both even managed to unconsciously curl their fists. They were very alike in their mannerisms. I had thought for a moment that Rick had talked Adam into coming here because of his jealousy, but really, Adam was very similar. I could imagine them working in conjunction, convincing the rest of Adam’s buddies to leave the comforts of the strip club in favour of a dance club with an obscene cover charge.

  “Marley, answer the question,” Rick said quietly. His voice was tight and controlled, but it was easy to see his blood had reached a boiling point.

  I shrugged at him in response. Adam was having some similar non-verbal conversation with Stevie. Rick and Adam looked at each other—they didn’t even talk, they just nodded, before stalking back in the direction of the club.

  “Where are you going?” Stevie yelled after them.

  “He got kicked out too, he couldn’t have gotten far. We’re going to beat him up,” Adam announced, walking backwards so he could face Stevie. Adam did look more Superman than Clark Kent in that moment.

  “But you already did,” Stevie said, and I knew she was now sorry she’d admitted the truth. Not that she shouldn’t have, but it was a story best saved for a few months from now when the anger and alcohol weren’t playing out.

  Adam turned back. “We beat him up for calling Marley the C-word, but he has so much more coming. He needs to know he can’t grind against you or touch Marley’s boob.” Hearing Adam talk about my boob was weird.

  Stevie clutched my arm, giving me a look of sheer panic. “I can’t handle this. What if Adam ends up in jail, or worse, the hospital? How am I going to explain it to his mom?”

  I patted her arm. “I’ll handle it.”

  They were about twenty feet away when I whistled loudly. They both turned and looked at me with annoyed expressions. “Are you boys really going to go beat up that idiot?” I gestured to Stevie and myself. “Are you going to leave two girls who look as hot as we do out here in bar town on bar night? I mean who will protect us?” It was a busy night and groups of people were walking around.

  As if to cement my point, three frat-type guys stopped in front of Stevie and I. “We’ll keep you girls company,” one of them offered.

  I smiled sweetly at Rick and Adam, a little triumphantly. “See what I mean?”

  Adam and Rick exchanged glances before turning back to us. It was obvious their heads were spinning with dark thoughts. After a few more silent brooding looks between the two men, they directed their attention towards us. Rick’s eyes rolled over me then our surroundings. Adam had a similar non-verbal play with Stevie, before spinning back to gape at Rick. Adam held his hands out in resignation and Rick nodded in agreement. Our boys walked back to us. Geez, there were so many dramatic expressions being exchanged, I felt as though we were trapped in a Spanish soap opera!

  Stevie pressed her hand into mine and I knew we were both feeling the same relief. My relief was soon replaced by pure desire though when Rick stepped under a street light. Rick was extremely handsome, but tonight he looked like a walking Polo add. How had I not noticed his incredible hotness? He was wearing jeans that hugged his hips in the most pleasing manner and a black fitted crew neck shirt, which revealed the outline of his muscles. The colour of his shirt contrasted with his sharp, green eyes and his hair was the perfect blend of messy precision that some guys could get away with, but girls never could.

  Rick strutted straight over to me as if no one else was there and backed me against the limo, kissing me hard. His hot, minty breath mixed with the tangy taste of whisky and lemons made me even drunker. When he released me, he whispered in my ear, “You would tell me if you were really hurt, right?”

  “Yes, I promise,” I replied.

  “I can’t believe you punched him. Do you not realise how tiny you are? That guy could have hurt you. Hell, I question if Adam and I could even take him on together.”

  I laughed. “That’s why I was helping you.”

  “Oh, my silly, spunky, Garter Belt Girl, what am I going to do with you?”

  “I have some ideas,” I replied seductively. Rick cocked his eyebrows, but Stevie cleared her throat and we remembered where we were.

  I turned to Stevie, moving away from Rick, but holding his hand. “What do you want to do now, Stevie? This is your party. Do you want to ask everyone else to come out of the bar and go somewhere else? It’s still early.”

  She pressed her lips together in thinking mode. “No, the cover in that place is so ridiculous. Let them enjoy themselves.”

  “Well, we can’t exactly take the limos and leave them stranded,” Adam interjected.

  I snapped my fingers. “Stevie, you know what is only two blocks from here?”

  She only thought about it for a second before screaming out, “Ducksters!” I nodded excitedly and Adam groaned.

  “What’s Ducksters?” Rick asked.

  “It’s a total dive bar that Marley and Stevie used to go to,” Adam explained.

  “Come on,” I urged, “it will be like old times.”

  Stevie nodded anxiously. “Yeah, sounds like fun.” She pulled Adam along with her. I snaked my arm around Rick’s waist and we walked there. My heels started to hurt so Rick offered me a piggyback ride.

  “Marley, my feet don’t hurt at all. It’s because you’re not used to wearing heels,” Stevie chided. I knew she was really showing off.

  “It’s okay, I don’t mind. She’s light,” Rick interjected. I didn’t mind either. The truth was I could walk, but I liked being perched on his back with my arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. I think he liked me there too. I spent most of the time inhaling his delicious scent.

  “Are you coming down with a cold, sweetheart? You keep sniffling.” Rick asked the question in jest, because he knew exactly what I was doing. I was sniffing not sniffling.

  “No,” I replied simply.

  Ducksters bar was a small place, frequented by retired, factory workers. It wasn’t a swanky or happening atmosphere, but it had a few things going for it. They didn’t card, so Stevie and I had been going there since high school. Drinks were cheap. The old men were decent for the most part—they liked to flirt with young girls, but unlike Mr Clean’s nephew, they never touched. The bar also had the amenities of a pool table and a jukebox. What else could you want in a bar?

  You know that scene in Cheers when Norm walks in and everyone yells his name? That’s what it felt like when Stevie and I walked into Ducksters. We hadn’t been there in years, but the old men remembered our names, as if we were pseudo celebrities. Adam and Rick went to get us drinks while Stevie and I hea
ded straight for the jukebox. It was all eighties music, not because that was the preference, but because they’d never updated the songs from when the machine had originally been purchased. Stevie selected The Tide is High by Blondie. I immediately joined her and we started dancing. After all, that’s what this evening was about, and although Ducksters didn’t have a dance floor, all you needed was music. This was the perfect girl-dance kind of song. I spun Stevie around under my arm and we did the whole gyrating our butts and heads so our hair swayed around us. That’s when I felt a pair of strong, familiar hands plant themselves on my hips. Stevie had a similar pair on hers.

  Rick whispered in my ear, “As much as you’re turning me on right now, you’re also giving everyone a free show, and I really don’t like the looks you’re getting.” I surveyed the bar and sure enough, all the men were staring at us. Some were just looking amused, but others were actually leering illicitly. I decided Rick was right on this count. Adam must have said something similar to Stevie because we all walked to the table where the boys had set our drinks. Rick sat and pulled me into his lap. Adam did the same thing with Stevie. Stevie and I both looked at each other knowingly. We were both with cavemen. It was funny—I’d always thought Stevie and I were so different, but it was obvious we had very similar preferences in mates, because in that moment it all seemed too perfect. I was with my sister and the guy she loved, and the guy I loved.

  Wow! Did I just say…love?

  “How much have you had to drink, Marley?” Rick asked, sliding the beer mug away from me.

  “Rick, I’m not driving and I’m over twenty-one, you know,” I smirked at him, kissing his forehead.

  He pulled me in closer so his mouth was next to my ear. This bar was much quieter and I could hear him fine, but he whispered so no one else would hear, “Baby, I know that. You just turned me on like crazy and I want to make sure you don’t pass out on me. I don’t mind holding your hair all night if you need to throw up, but I’d much rather be holding other things.”