LOL #3 Romantic Comedy Anthology

by Anthology

  The slopes would be closing in a half-hour, and the night-skiers would flock to the bar the same way they had each evening. Not that I knew who hung out here after nine; I’d been in bed by then, every night since we’d arrived.

  “We need to make the best of it. I think Sid’s gonna propose,” Zoey said.

  I couldn’t wait to see Sid’s reaction when Mom rejected him. I knew there was no way she was ready for that kind of commitment. The ex-Mrs. Blakely usually didn’t last as long as she had with Sid. She switched her boyfriends like underwear. But Mom liked to go commando, so that was not a good example either.

  “Don’t you think I wish I was back home?” she asked. “At least you’re single and can hook up with anyone you want.”

  How did a one week relationship make her not single, and more importantly, so blind? It’d been nine days since Zoey met her current boyfriend, and she was acting like they were in a committed union. My sister was flying somewhere up on cloud nine with all the other romantics.

  “Even if he’s gonna propose, why with us here?” I growled. “It’s not like I don’t have anything better to do.” I wanted to slap her silly, so she would wake up and see that Mom was a good example of what happened to couples, but Zoey had blinders over her eyes. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe being unaware of the trouble relationships would ultimately cause was better than accusing men of every human failure possible.

  How could I make my sister understand the merits of being a med-school student when she chose to study dance? She’d spent as many hours stretching and twirling as I had spent with my nose in the books. Though she had reached a level of flexibility I’d never be able to accomplish, it was definitely not brain surgery. Not that I was studying the human mind, but becoming an ER doctor came with sacrificing countless social hours.

  “You can put your nose back in your books on Tuesday, Jules. In the meantime, try to enjoy. Mom says it’s getting serious with Sid. Will you show some support for once?”

  Sure, throw me under the guilt bus. As if it was my fault that every dweeb Mom dated crushed her.

  I looked over to where she sat on Sid’s lap playing tonsil hockey.

  “That’s wrong on so many levels,” I muttered, my urge to break them up returning. So far, they had withstood my attempts. After each, I’d felt remorse for about two seconds, and then Sid would look at another woman in a way I knew mom would not appreciate. I knew he would cheat eventually, and I didn’t want mom hurt again. “He’s going to break her heart.”

  “Let it be. After what she’s been through with Dad, she deserves to have fun.”

  As if on my sister’s cue, the happy couple got up from their seat, and hand-in-hand, left the lounge. Sid adjusted his zipper over the strain in his pants as they headed for their room.

  “So do you, Zoey. Why tie yourself down?” I asked.

  “I can have fun without Mike here.” She took a longer sip of her drink as if trying to make a point.

  “Fun my ass.” I chuckled. “You barely know him and act like you’re married.”

  If I knew my sister as well as I thought I did, it would only take a cute smile, a couple of dimples, and two minutes of flirting with the right guy, and she would move on to her next victim. She was another perfect example of why I did not date.

  “Oh, Jules. One day you’ll meet someone worthy of your time and effort.”

  “Yeah, and that will be about the same time as never.”

  “I gotta go to the bathroom and maybe take a dip in the pool. I’ll see you in the morning?”

  Yup, that was Zoey’s code for “I’m bored and need to find someone more interesting.”

  Whatever.

  As I took the first sip of my cocoa, the lounge doors swung open. Pushing each other playfully, three men rushed in like a bunch of adolescents, still wearing their snowboarding suits. At least they were easy on the eyes, and somewhat looked familiar. Zoey should have stayed. The tallest one threw his gloves to the shorter one who made his way across the lounge as if he was going for a football pass.

  I ducked as the glove whizzed right over my head.

  The one who still wore his goggles, removed his gloves, and got ready for his turn to pass.

  I recognized his distinct skull and crossbones jacket as the one I had seen yesterday on the jerk who’d cut me off on the slopes. He was the same ass-wipe who’d decided to write his name in the snow outside my window last night—and hadn’t even done a good job at it.

  He went back for his pass, aiming his mitt toward his buddy. Unfortunately his throw landed right in my mug.

  My hot chocolate turned into a brown stain on my brand new sweater. “Are you nuts?” I screamed. And then the heat of the steaming liquid hit me. “Shit!” I shot off the chair as if a fire had started underneath me. The burn was slow at first, but when it soaked through to my skin, I wished for a tub filled with ice. Focused on the front door, I ran through the lounge and out the door where the cold air slammed into me.

  “Are you okay?” a male voice said from behind me.

  “It’s hot!” The searing heat was all I could think about until the stranger yanked my white sweater over my head. It stuck on my earrings halfway through, and then I couldn’t see anything. “You’re gonna rip my earlobes off!”

  The man swore under his breath and continued manhandling my sweater and me.

  Could anything else go wrong tonight? As I was about to start crying from the pain, something cold touched the top of my cleavage, and for the first time since the cocoa spilled, I breathed out in relief.

  “I can’t see anything,” I said, trying to get the sweater off an earring.

  “Yes, I know. I’m so sorry about this. Hold on. Let me help you.”

  His voice was soothing and familiar, but I couldn’t place it. He rubbed snow over my cleavage and where it melted on my skin, it dripped down the valley between my boobs.

  Fumbling with my other earring, he finally freed it and gently removed the sweater from my head.

  I recognized his bright blue jacket and wanted to roll my eyes, but his dark-hazel eyes distracted me.

  “Sorry, Sweets,” he said, meeting my gaze for the first time. He squinted and cocked his head to the side. “Jules?” he asked.

  “Scar?” And that fast, all the hate I had for him, and all the obscenities I’d wanted to yell at him, vanished.

  Chapter 2

  “Oh my God, is that really you?” He opened his arms wide and leaned into me for a bear hug. Scar had never been a hand-shaker.

  The strong smell of him—a blend of burning wood and cigarettes, masked with expensive cologne—was the same one I remembered. Inhaling was a mistake. It brought so many memories; I wasn’t sure how to decipher what was happening. After I had moved out of the city, I’d thought about Scar more often than I should have, wondering where he was, what he was doing with his life, but I’d never expected him to turn into this gorgeous man, or be sitting in front of me.

  “Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing here?”

  It had been more than five years since I’d seen my high school “weed buddy”. While my mother was getting a divorce, I chose not to feel her burden and smoked pot during the last year. I’d met Scar underneath the bleachers, two weeks into my senior year. It was the best year of my high school life.

  “Family vacation,” he said.

  “Were those your brothers inside?” I asked.

  “Yeah, we’re sort of trying to reconnect? You?”

  “Forced to be here with my mom and boyfriend number one hundred.”

  “So, not much has changed?” He chuckled.

  “It’s changed. Now, instead of her watching dad cheat, she’s making up for all the lost years.”

  Fresh snow fell from above. It was already dark outside. The dancing flakes illuminated the hills, and for the first time since my arrival two days ago, I noticed how beautiful the resort was. As the night breeze swept by, I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly hy
per aware I was sitting on the porch in my jeans and bra. Chills covered my skin.

  “Here,” Scar removed his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. “Wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

  “Thank you.” The shivers over my arms slowly turned into sparks of flames as Scar rested his gaze on my soaked bra.

  “I’m sorry about the sweater, Jules. I really didn’t mean to. Although I can’t say I’m not happy I did.”

  He had a funny look in his eyes that made me feel a lot like the eighteen-year-old girl I had been the last time I’d seen him. I began to wonder whether it was the warm jacket or the sudden rush of blood through my veins heating me up from the inside out. I wasn’t cold for the first time in days.

  “You still swearing off relationships?” I asked, partly out of curiosity, and partly because I was desperate to know the answer.

  “Yup. Nothing’s changed there. What about you?”

  “Same old.”

  We stared at each other in silence for a long moment. A comfortably uncomfortable minute passed way too fast.

  One of his brothers’ interrupted us. “Is she okay?” he asked.

  The genes in the Wagner family were one of a kind and there was no way not to peg these two as siblings. How had I not recognized them inside?

  “Her name is Jules and …” He looked at me.

  I nodded my answer.

  “She’ll be fine.”

  His brother retreated into the lodge without another word.

  “Is there anything I can do, Jules? Maybe I should have another look.” Scar gently tugged at the zipper of his jacket.

  “Right, and maybe I should tattoo “stupid” on my forehead.”

  “You know I’m not like that.”

  “And you know that I know exactly how you are.”

  While neither of us believed in relationships, our friendship had been solid. In high school, we’d had a natural selection theory that said humans were prone to cheating to procreate. Only a few anomalies remained faithful—anomalies that were more difficult to find than a winning lottery ticket. To prove a point, Scar perfected the art of breaking couples apart and taught me everything I knew. I could recognize a cheater a mile away and I instigated many separations to prevent possible future heartbreaks. Mom gave me plenty of practice with her string of loser boyfriends. Better to find out her boyfriend cheated before they got married, than after, I thought.

  “Come on, let’s get you inside.” Scar zipped his jacket all the way up to my neck and then picked my sweater off the porch. Leading me back inside, he wrapped his hand around mine as we walked past his brothers.

  The silence between us was awkward until we disappeared out of view in the upstairs hallway. I wanted to think of him as the same friend I met under the bleachers, but it wasn’t easy. Scar had definitely grown into his body. There was something edgy and raw about him now. I adored the scar on his upper lip and the one over his brow. These were new and made him unique. The others I’d seen on his body a few years back were from what Scar called “accidentally falling downstairs”, though I never believed those stories he’d told. His black turtleneck hugged his bulked arms and firm chest, outlining every muscle. Scar fit those clothes as if he were about to star in a photo shoot. He was as hot as I’d often imagined he would be.

  He pulled his fingers through his snowboarding, rumpled hair. There was sexy stubble covering his jaw.

  The heat returned to my body in waves as we walked to my room, and the sound of the lock echoed in my ears as I opened the door. Why was I so nervous around him? We’d both changed. We were much older and more mature (well, at least I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt). Hopefully, we could act like adults.

  “Are you busy tomorrow, Jules?”

  “Not really. We’re leaving this weekend. I have to go back to school.”

  “Are you still thinking of becoming a doctor?”

  “Almost there. A couple more years, and yeah, I’ll be a doctor.”

  “Really going for that dream, aren’t you?” He leaned against the doorframe to my room.

  Images of me pulling him by the collar into my room flashed in my mind, but I shook them off. “I guess. And you?”

  “I just passed the bar exam.”

  An uncontrollable laugh burst out before I could stop it.

  “Really, Jules? Is it that hard to believe?” He crossed his arms over his chest. The position made his shoulders look much wider.

  “A little. I never pictured you as a lawyer.”

  “Father insisted.”

  “I see. So it’s a dream job for you then, isn’t it?” I regretted the rude sarcasm in my voice as soon as the words left my mouth.

  “Whatever, Jules. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

  I grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. “Wait, Scar. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out the way it sounded.”

  “What way did you mean it?”

  “Well, I remember you as … you know.” I put my fingers to my lips and mimicked taking a puff from a joint. “Not that I was any better.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “I’m still not sure how you got a full scholarship, though you could have passed based on looks alone. So, how did you get into med school?”

  “You’re so funny.” I gave him a dirty look, but the low blow was definitely deserved. “I think the weed fixed my brain.” I grinned.

  We laughed, and suddenly it was like old times—us, together, joking, completely oblivious to the world outside. I forgot how good it felt to have a friend like him. I’d never been good at making friends with men, simply because I didn’t trust them. They always found a way to break me. It was in their nature—just as it had been in Dad’s when he’d broken mom. But I’d changed—now I was the one who broke them. Yet Scar was different than all the other men I’d known. He was a friend who eased my pain. He’d listened when I needed a shoulder to cry on and had never hurt me. Maybe male friends were different than “boyfriends”. Perhaps we could rekindle the friendship we once had?

  “Do you want to come in?” I asked.

  He hesitated for a second before stepping over the threshold. “Sure, thanks. Do you mind if I order room service? I’m starving.”

  I locked the door. “Go ahead. I need to shower the cocoa off anyway. Give me ten minutes?”

  “Sure.”

  I couldn’t shower fast enough. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting from this reunion, but it felt more right than anything I had done in the past five years—with the exception of going to medical school. There was something about Scar that made me want to live, and laugh, and have hope in a future. I pushed warm and fuzzy thoughts out of my mind. There was no way I would be the victim of another breakup. All relationships are doomed from the start, I reminded myself. I knew statistics didn’t lie, but the moment I heard Scar’s sexy chuckle at something on TV, I forgot every single one of them.

  I pulled on a pair of sweats and then joined him as room service arrived. We popped a bottle of wine open, and he told me about his new job at his father’s law firm. It didn’t take long to figure out he hated working there. In fact, he was doing everything he could to fail, including whistle blowing about some of his father’s illegal operations.

  “You should be proud of yourself,” I said.

  “I guess I sort of am. I wanted to be like my half-brothers. You know, a real Wagner. I wanted to prove my father’s infidelity didn’t change who I was.”

  “Of course not. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”

  “But I do. Beth, my stepmother, will never forgive him. I’m a constant reminder of his mistake. Being a lawyer, like her other boys … it was the only way I could think of to get closer.”

  “Scar, I’m sure Beth doesn’t blame you for what your father did. I remember her as a loving mother.”

  I’d met Scar’s mom on a couple of occasions. Once when I went to his house to help him with his last biology assignment in high school, and another time at school,
when she’d dropped off a book he’d forgotten.

  “I’m not saying she’s not. But she’s not my birth-mother.

  “Your father hasn’t told you about her yet?”

  “Nope.” Scar twisted in his seat.

  I guessed he still wasn’t comfortable talking about it. Being the only child of five who was the product of an affair had always been a tough subject for him.

  Time flew by, the bottle of wine emptied, and we opened another one.

  My stomach grumbled, and I regretted having so many chicken nuggets. I excused myself and then rushed to the bathroom and flicked on the fan switch. Grateful the television was turned up, I tried to concentrate on my business. The noises coming out of my body were the last ones I’d want anyone to hear. Desperate to stay quiet, I squeezed my thighs and bit my lip, but the extra spicy sauce I had dipped the nuggets in was causing a revolution inside me. I expected my ass to explode with the runnies, but it decided to produce something that reminded me of a chocolate bar, which I guessed was much better.

  “Gross,” I mumbled to myself when I was finished. I sprayed air freshener and flushed the toilet. The porcelain made a funny noise, and I held the flush handle for a bit longer. The choking sounds were not promising and I pushed on the handle over and over. “No, not today,” I said.

  The water rose higher and higher.

  Scar knocked on the door. “Are you okay, in there? I sort of need to use the bathroom.”

  Normally, I would have laughed at an awkward situation, but there was nothing funny about watching my crap rise to the top like a float in a flood, while the man I had invited into my room was waiting to use the washroom.

  “Just a sec,” I said as the water spilled over the edge. Oh, God! This isn’t happening to me. Could anything else go wrong tonight?

  “Jules, what’s the matter?” The concern in his voice was sweet, but did nothing to ease the level of embarrassment I felt.

  “Scar? I think you may want to use another bathroom. This one’s plugged.”