Your Favorite Girl (YFG Series)

by Steph Sweeney

  The closet door stood wide open and I could see the head of the bed and the shower room entrance, where Clifton stood completely naked, soaking wet, steam whirling from his hairy, splotchy skin.

  "Where ye at, Kate? Time for Clifton, baby. Patton said ain't nobody to touch the new girl, but he didn't say nothin' 'bout yooou."

  He was getting closer, and yet my fear had diminished. Patton had given me immunity to Clifton, if Clifton possessed the will power to obey orders.

  Kate was staring me down, fuming. I started to worry her snorting would give us away.

  As soon as I reached out to touch her arm, she whispered, "He lets them fuck me every way you can imagine and I can't even get him to kiss me. What makes you so special?"

  "I . . . don't know."

  I wasn't convinced Patton thought I was special, more so that Kate's unrealistic expectations made her paranoid and jealous. I've gone through that before. I think every girl has. But just because Patton had no interest in Kate didn't mean he would waste a thought on me.

  The crack between the boxes darkened, and I could hear Clifton's labored breathing just on the other side.

  "Come on out, Kate, or else I'm gonna piss on all your stuff."

  Kate gritted her teeth and shook her head.

  "Last chance!"

  ─The Showcase Hall─

  WE MANAGED to stay hidden until three in the morning, when Clifton finally gave up on flogging himself and slumped back into the corridor from which he had emerged.

  When we were certain the room was clear, Kate crept out first to hunt down a second can of pepper spray, and then together we tiptoed through the damp, echoing hall into the shower room.

  I welcomed the warmth of the room, but the thick steam made searching for Clifton more terrifying.

  Luckily, he was nowhere to be found. We swept every room twice, and Kate even swam around in the Jacuzzi pool to make sure he wasn't hiding there.

  "I think we're safe to go to sleep," she said, wringing her hair as she stepped out of the water.

  "What if he comes back?"

  "He never does. Not that you'd have to worry."

  She'd been acting distant since learning that Patton had forbidden anyone to touch me, and it carried over into the morning, when we awoke holding each other. The moment she opened her eyes, she jerked away from me and got out of bed.

  "Are you mad at me about something?"

  "No. About what?"

  That was how the morning went. She hardly spoke unless I asked a question, and her answers were short and snappy.

  We spent the first half hour cleaning up all the places where Clifton had urinated.

  "How often does this happen?"

  "This was the first time."

  "We have to find where he gets in."

  "I know."

  After cleanup, we both showered and Kate dialed three numbers on the phone and ordered breakfast. Thirty minutes later, a guy no older than eighteen wheeled in a cart steaming with bacon, sausage, ham, eggs, hash browns, and pancakes on the top rack; fruit, biscuits, English muffins, syrup, cheese, jelly, and assorted condiments on the middle rack. Enough to feed at least ten people.

  The boy was cute and he seemed nice enough. It was obvious to me how excited he was to be working for this company, jittery at the prospect of getting to see a tit.

  It didn't help that Kate basically petted him like a puppy until he was gone, even brushing his crotch a couple of times in a way that could be construed as accidental.

  She sent him away aroused and I could tell she knew what she was doing when she wheeled the cart to the sofa with a huge grin on her face. She seemed, for the moment, freed from anger.

  We ate, and Kate told me about her daily torture of Pete.

  "He wants me so bad."

  "Have you done anything?"

  "No!"

  "Why not?"

  "Because," she said slowly, "I don't want Patton to think I'm a slut. His brothers . . . I have no choice about that. That's just the way it is. Not even Patton can control that." She glanced at me, then turned away. "I think he's just waiting for things to settle down."

  "What do you mean?"

  Her eyes widened dramatically as she pivoted back towards me. "Oh, there's so much going on right now with the company. A lot of stuff. It's a crazy time."

  "What kind of stuff is going on?"

  "Well." She paused, looking embarrassed. "I don't really know the details, but you can just tell by the way they act. It's like everybody's in a big fucking hurry all of a sudden. It's been like this for weeks."

  "So something big is happening."

  "Hopefully something good."

  What exactly was happening, Kate clearly had no idea. I'd taken her for someone more involved with the operations. She really was just a slave--no more important than Pete or any other employee. But did the other employees receive the same amenities? Kate would probably find the question offensive, so I would have to find out another way.

  It took me a moment to process what she'd just said. "You mean good for the company? Or good for us?"

  Kate shrugged. "Are those mutually exclusive?"

  This time my eyes widened. I spoke with a gasp: "I would think so! What are you talking about?"

  "Something good for us is what I mean," she said. "Us, first and foremost." Her voice and eyes were distant.

  I decided to change the subject back to Pete. I didn't like the way Kate acted when we talked about Patton. Like her blood went cold, her motives vindictive.

  "He worked in the jewelry store, just like most of us," she said of Pete.

  "How do all these people just leave their friends and families?"

  "It's easy. People believe anything. My parents think I'm studying rare stone appraising in Canada."

  "And you never see them."

  "No. When I say I can never leave, I mean I can never leave. For now. When I marry Patton, things will be different. I'll travel all over the world."

  "Your parents just accept that they'll never see you again."

  She shot me a cold glare. "Who says I'll never see them again? This is only temporary. Why can't you understand that? I'll get promoted soon, and I'll be a decision maker around here. Brian says so, and he told me Patton says so too."

  I nodded and smiled, all a girl can do when the stench of bullshit becomes too potent to waft away with a few words. Kate was out of her mind. I hadn't even seen her and Brian together and I already knew what was going on. Brian was courting Kate--if not fucking her regularly--and to ensure sexual conquest he was telling her anything she wanted to hear.

  In my nervousness, I wound up eating too much. I wanted to curl up on the couch and go back to sleep, but suddenly Kate turned into a bundle of energy. She rushed me to the kitchen table, where we smoked a bowl, and then she rushed me to the closet to change. Nothing to wear but dresses and lingerie, of course, and I was not in the mood for either of those.

  "I want some jeans and a t-shirt."

  Kate flapped her finger at the phone. "Dial 111, and tell Pete I said make it snappy. We're going to the Showcase Hall and then I have to work."

  Pete was very quick. I don't think a minute passed before he knocked on the door. I answered to find him standing there with several pairs of jeans folded over one arm and a pile of t-shirts over the other.

  "I know girls' sizes depend on the brand sometimes," he said, "so I brought a bunch."

  I opened the door wide and invited him in. "Just put them on the bed, if you don't mind."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  He was eager, in a hurry. That post-high school graduation excitement that begins to taper off as you age. Bouncing around through life like a pinball looking for things to eat, drink, smoke, and penetrate.

  He set the clothes down carefully, keeping them straight and neat, and then stood there like a soldier awaiting orders.

  "Thank you."

  "Not a problem, ma'am."

  "Melissa."

&nb
sp; "Yes ma'am."

  "No, I mean call me Melissa."

  "You should wear black, Melissa," he said with confidence that quickly waned. "With, you know, your dark hair. And your eyes. Auburn stands out against black. I'm not gay or anything. I've just had a lot of practice with this stuff." He pointed awkwardly at Kate and swallowed. "Mostly because of her."

  One thing I've never understood about guys is why they blush and get embarrassed when alone with more than one girl.

  "I knew you weren't gay," I said.

  "He's a virgin though," Kate interjected from across the room, her words muffled. She'd returned to the serving cart and was halfway through a banana.

  Now Pete was clearly embarrassed.

  "I've had a blow job," he nearly yelled at Kate. Then he turned to me and, quieter, repeated, "I've had a blow job."

  "Me too," Kate said. "I've had a ton. I've given a ton. Pete, let me see your cock and maybe I'll suck it."

  "I'm not falling for that again," Pete said.

  "If you don't show it to me right now, I'll never suck it. Ever."

  "Kate! That's not fair!" Suddenly Pete was twelve years old--or at least his voice was. His virginity showed like a boner in sweatpants.

  "What's your job, Pete?" Kate demanded.

  Pete sighed and recited, "To deliver any item ordered by an employee that does not fall on the exclusion list."

  "Is your dick on the exclusion list?"

  "No."

  "Then whip it out before I call Sean."

  "You know what? Fine!"

  Pete dropped his pants and boxers in one angry maneuver and then crossed his arms, looking up and away. He looked like he might start crying.

  When I looked down I understood why.

  Pete's penis was just a tiny head maybe the width of a tampon applicator. It looked withdrawn, not long enough to hang, just a knob on a tree trunk. It was hard to imagine that thing functioning sexually. It was just a little stub. How could it penetrate anything? If he was lucky it might harden to two solid inches.

  The poor kid. Now he was crying.

  This was a side of Kate I hadn't seen. Her capacity for meanness continued to surprise me. It seemed to have no end. My initial impression of her--that of a kind, warm-hearted young adult caught in the web of evil men--was all wrong. What she was doing to Pete was cruel, and the fact that she herself suffered similar torture at the hands of Patton's brothers did not excuse her.

  I wanted to defy her, and there was only one thing I could think to do.

  "Pete, have you ever seen the Showcase Hall?"

  Pete shook his head vigorously. "Can I pull my pants up now?"

  I glared at Kate and she shrugged.

  "Yeah, go ahead," I said. I waited for him to button them. "So you've never seen the Favorite Girls?"

  "No ma'am. I'm not allowed to leave this floor. I serve the staff."

  "Well I'm part of the staff now, and we're about to head down there so I can buy myself a new girl. I want you to come with us and help me pick."

  "No," Kate said.

  "Did I ask you?!"

  My harshness startled her. "He's not allowed, Melissa. Staff are only permitted access to the floor they work on and the floor they live on. Unfortunately for Pete, both of those places are here, Level C."

  "He's coming with us."

  "No," she said, "he's not."

  I crossed the room and stood over her, whispering so Pete couldn't hear me. "Let him come, and I'll help you with Patton."

  She hesitated to speak, shook her head. "I don't need any help."

  "Couldn't hurt though, right? I could find out things for you."

  "Like what?"

  "I don't know. What he likes. What he says about you."

  "And you'd do that."

  "Yes."

  "You don't want him for yourself?"

  "No." That wasn't a lie. At the time, in my eyes, Patton was no better than the rest of them.

  Kate dropped the banana peel she was playing with and stood. "Okay, but I can't promise it's going to work. We have to go through Brian first, then Bob, then Sean's guards--maybe Sean himself. It depends on who's down there today." She paused, contemplating. "I can handle Brian easy. Probably Bob, too, but if Sean's there anything could happen."

  "Let's hope he's not."

  "If he is, and he gets pissed, you have to take responsibility, and you still have to help me with Patton. No matter what."

  "I can work with that," I said.

  "Okay, awesome!" she said, her voice suddenly as perky as her breasts. She turned to Pete. "Come on, pimple dick, prepare for the best day of your life."

  Out in the hallway and into the lobby, everything still looked new and strange to me. I still hadn't gotten a good look around.

  This morning, the sprawling lobby was lit with a grid of recessed ceiling fixtures--hundreds of them. Across the pool-sized hot tub--similar in design to the one in Kate's shower room--were rows of pool tables and, farther back, a lounge area with computers along the wall.

  The room was silent and empty. Even the pool jets were off, the steamy water surface a perfect mirror image of the ceiling and its grid of lights.

  "Where is everyone?"

  "Working," Kate said.

  "I figured they'd be coming and going."

  We stopped to wait for the elevator, where Pete spoke up for the first time. "Most employees are escorted to their work floors," he said. "Like prisoners, sort of."

  "Prisoners," Kate said. "You stole that from me. I say that all the time."

  He ignored her. "Kate's one of the only exceptions. She roams free."

  "That's not true! I do too get escorted!"

  "By Brian. Not by Sean's guards. Brian doesn't even escort you. He just follows you around."

  "I swear to God, Pete, if you don't shut your mouth . . ."

  The elevator dinged, and everyone stopped talking. By now I welcomed the silence, despite the high tension in the elevator. When it stopped, I could hear the bustle of people on the other side of the door and couldn't wait to get out, no matter who they were.

  "Welcome to Level B," Kate said as the doors retracted.

  Another lobby, this one gray and industrial, two rows of cold steel benches running the length of the room. Seated on the benches were a dozen college-age men and women, all dressed in lab coats with lunch sacks in their laps. They chatted amongst themselves, waiting for the double doors to swing open on the far wall.

  "Hi, Kate," said a red-headed kid with freckles and a hideous plaid collar shirt. His flapping hand and ear-to-ear grin were in competition for emphasis.

  "Jesus," Kate mumbled. Then she smiled and said, "Hi Murphy! How's the research coming?"

  "We're on to application now. Brian didn't tell you?"

  "He never tells me anything."

  As I passed, Murphy looked up at me and extended a hand. It was cold and clammy to the touch. And sticky. He probably masturbated six times a day--not that he had much choice. Pete probably did the same.

  Kate, too.

  "Hi, I'm Murphy," said Murphy.

  "I'm Melissa."

  Several heads turned in my direction.

  "You're the Melissa?" asked a girl to the left of Murphy. She had thin brown hair and thick-framed glasses. Cute in a pale, nerdy, sharp-hip-bones, tiny-tits kind of way. This whole room looked like a depository for unwanted virgins.

  "Just Melissa," I replied, "as far as I know."

  "The one Brian's been talking about," Nerd Girl said.

  "I . . . suppose?"

  "What's he been saying, Judy?" Kate asked from the double doors, where she and Pete waited. Everyone stopped talking. They all turned to her.

  "Nothing important," Judy said. She turned around and planted her nose back into whatever book she was reading.

  "What kind of research are you guys doing?" I asked Murphy.

  He started to answer, but Kate interrupted. "I want to know what Brian's been saying about Melissa," she d
emanded.

  No one spoke. I caught eyes with Murphy, and in them I saw fear.

  "Judy!"

  "It doesn't matter, Kate," I said, approaching her. "We've got shit to do."

  Kate sighed and shook her head. As she typed in the security code to release the door, she called back, "You guys can all blame Judy when you're in confinement for the next week."

  A chorus of groans tapered off to the distinct sound of someone crying.

  It was Judy, surrounded on all sides by dirty looks.

  The double doors led to a wide hallway with a shiny white tile floor and cinderblock walls. Somewhere on this floor was where I'd been strapped to the table. The doors were labeled with words like GENETICS, PHARMACOGENOMICS, and BIOCHEMISTRY, while others were more mundane: STORAGE, RESTROOMS, CAFETERIA.

  We came to a junction, where a reception desk sat unoccupied, and Kate led us to the left, down a smaller, hardwood hallway. Here the doors stood open. Small offices, also empty. At the end, we entered a door labeled BRIAN'S OFFICE.

  It wasn't just an office. It was Brian's home, similar in style to Kate's room, only much larger and clearly decorated by a scientist. In the center of the room was what looked like a well but on closer inspection I found it was the housing for a pendulum, a barrel-sized bob hanging at equilibrium at least ten feet down.

  A large gyroscope on a platform, shining under display lights. Shelves of creepy organisms suspended in formaldehyde, some of them possibly human. He even had his own small greenhouse, where I assumed he propagated Kate's weed. I was drawn to the golden light of the high pressure sodium bulbs inside, but before I could approach it Kate pushed me through another door.

  "He must be in the shower," she said. "We need to hurry."

  "I thought you said you could handle him."

  "I can, but why bother if we can avoid him altogether?"

  Pete was already waiting in the empty room, standing in the doorway of another elevator.

  "This is the only way to the Showcase Hall," Kate said as we rode. "Brian bitches about it all the time. He doesn't like Sean or his guards, and they're in and out of here constantly. They pick on him." She sounded please with this fact.

  "What did you mean back there when you said confinement?"