Gorgeous Bastard

by Stella Blaze

  I wanted to confess. Maybe if I confessed then they would know they’re fighting had just been my bad karma biting them in the butt, and not them falling out of love.

  Falling out of love…

  Just thinking that made me cry even harder. They couldn’t have just fallen out of love. It didn’t work like that, did it?

  ***

  On the day we packed up the U-Haul and were about to head off across the state to my grandmother’s house, I was alone in my newly bare room, packing up the very last box of my things.

  The room looked so strange with everything out of it. I didn’t even recognize it anymore.

  “I can’t believe you’re just leaving.” Joshua said. I could see him from the corner of my eye, leaning against my doorway.

  I sighed and continued to ignore him.

  He’d started it.

  The kiss had been both of us, but he’d started the whole flirting thing.

  “So you’re not going to talk to me?”

  No, I wasn’t. There wasn’t anything to say.

  We’d done something disgusting and wrong, and now we were paying for it, with interest.

  “Just like your mother,” he said, his voice rough with anger. “Just run away when things get tough.”

  I bit my lip. I wasn’t going to react. I was not going to speak to him.

  “This is all her fault anyways.”

  I spun around and glared at him. “How is this her fault?” It was our fault. We’re the guilty ones.

  Joshua’s mouth set to a hard line. “If she wasn’t such a slut, then maybe they’d still be together.”

  I slapped him.

  It happened so fast. One second I was just standing there, the next my hand flashed out and struck him as hard as I could.

  He stood there and stared at me, a cold menace in his faded green eyes, a red mark blossoming across his cheek.

  “You’re just like her.”

  I gritted my teeth and stared back at him, wanting to hurt him, to make him take it back.

  But I wasn’t a child any longer. I knew that in the real world you could never take things back.

  He could never take it back.

  We could never take it back.

  “Cali?” my mom called from downstairs. “It’s time for us to go.”

  I broke eye contact with Joshua and picked up my last box. I looked around the room, and then at my soon to be ex-stepbrother, and then swept past him and down the hall to the stairs.

  I stopped at the top of the stairs and wiped away the tears from my cheeks.

  I would not let mom or anyone see me crying.

  Never again.

  Chapter 3

  We stayed with my Grandmother for about three weeks. By then mom had lined up a job in Charlotte, and a house for us to rent. It wasn’t nearly as nice as the one we’d shared with Paul and Joshua, and the school wasn’t as good, but at least I no longer had anyone comparing me to my stepbrother on the basketball court.

  Mom and I had been on our own for a long time before Paul and Joshua came along. We fell back into that rhythm and routine fast enough.

  School, practice, hanging out with my new, small circle of friends—near exclusively my teammates on the basketball squad.

  I still texted my old friends, commented on their Facebook pages and Skyped too. But slowly those became fewer and farther between.

  Except for Paul.

  He was more than just my stepfather, he was my dad.

  My real father had died when I was too small to remember him, off fighting for our country in a far off land. A city called Kabul in Afghanistan.

  So Paul, even though he’d only come into my life a few years ago, had claimed that place in my life and heart.

  I called or texted him every day. He was never too busy to talk to me; always wanted to know how school and basketball were going.

  Mom didn’t mind… or at least she never complained that I was talking to him so much.

  I think she liked knowing how he was doing, and if I was talking to him in front of her, then she could eavesdrop and not have to ask me how he was doing.

  I knew she still loved him. She never asked about him, and never mentioned him… but she wasn’t dating anyone either.

  Even after the divorce was finalized.

  Time flew by, just the two of us. “The Winters Girls,” as mom called us.

  Paul would drive up every month or so and take me out for a father/daughter movie or dinner. He never told me we’d do something and then bailed on me.

  He was great that way.

  When I was accepted to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill on a full basketball scholarship, Paul was the first person I called. He’d been so proud.

  He was coming to my graduation party. He’d promised.

  I never asked about Joshua, but Paul always reported on his latest game, or that he’d found that he had a latent and impressive talent for computers.

  I just couldn’t see my jug-headed stepbrother… ex-stepbrother, in pocket protector-ville. I remembered him not being able to memorize the periodic table, and having to ask mom to check his spelling.

  And now he was excelling at computer programming?

  It just didn’t fit.

  But then again I hadn’t seen him in two years.

  I hadn’t expected to hear from him, was relieved about it too. Not after our last discussion, and the kiss…

  I still dreamt of that damn kiss.

  It haunted me, and though I took great pains to keep so busy I shouldn’t have been able to think about it, I thought about it every… single… day.

  But I also thought about how that one kiss had destroyed our family.

  Even if mom and dad never knew, it had been that kiss that turned everything upside down.

  Chapter 4

  I stood in front of the mirror, my hair still wet and my face without a stitch of makeup.

  But I had on the dress.

  I loved the dress.

  I’d saved up for three months—nearly every penny I was making at the daycare where I worked part time—to buy the dress.

  It was chocolate and caramel colored silk, with small mint green and red flowers embroidered here and there in the fabric. Spaghetti straps and a tailored, beaded bodice, finished off by a flowing skirt that came down to a few inches above my knees.

  I remember how pretty I felt the first time I’d tried it on. I’d put it on layaway that day and had paid for it in installments.

  I’m sure that if I’d asked my mom… or Paul, they would have bought it for me. But I wanted to get it for myself.

  It meant more that way.

  Just like my car. It was ancient (and not in the antique, collectable way, either) and looked like it had been salvaged from a junk yard, but it was mine, and I’d paid for it in cash.

  I had some strappy three inch heels that matched the chocolate and caramel of the dress perfectly. I’d practiced all week to make sure I could walk in them. I’d worn pumps before, but three inch heels were a big change from one inch pumps.

  I turned right and then left, loving how the dress swayed back and forth and how long and elegant my legs looked.

  I sat at my vanity and started to apply my makeup. Mom was going to be in here in a moment to help with my hair. And though she was great at styling my long, wavy honey blonde hair, I didn’t quite trust her with doing my makeup.

  I wanted to look good, but not as daringly made up as she sometimes made herself.

  I remember watching her put herself together for those first dates with Paul, before they fell in love and got married, and then still going all out to look great for him after they’d been together for a while.

  They should have been forever…

  A memory flickered in the back of my mind. How Joshua looked that day, glowing and glistening in the sun, standing so close to me. How his lips had felt against mine. The taste of him.

  How he’d smelled… how he’d always sm
elled—like the ocean. Clean and a little wild.

  Then I remembered how my hand had stung after I’d slapped him for calling my mom—our mom—a slut.

  And how my heart had hurt even more. More than it already had been hurting.

  My bedroom door opened and mom walked in.

  She was wearing a yellow dress that made her look like a little slice of heaven, and her red hair was pulled back in an elegant twist.

  That and she was glowing. Pride shone on her face as she came over, leaned down and hugged me around the neck.

  “My baby girl is graduating high school… how did that happen?”

  I just smiled. Truth be told, I don’t think I could have answered her. I was overwhelmed by all the thoughts in my head, and having her being so proud of me—and not knowing how truly terrible I was—was wearing on my heart and soul.

  If she’d ever found out about me, she’d never look at me like that again.

  Ever.

  I’d lose her, just like my father, just like Paul.

  Like Joshua?

  I gulped and pushed down my emotions. This was an important day, for me and for mom. I wouldn’t ruin it by allowing my emotions to run rampant.

  I’d kept them bottled up for the last two years, I could keep on doing it, for the party… forever…

  For mom I would do anything.

  ***

  Our house was packed with family, friends and some of my schoolmates. I’d posted an open invitation to all of my twenty-seven Facebook friends. (I know, am I a social butterfly or what?)

  Turned out I was far more popular than I’d thought. I’d randomly counted thirty-five schoolmates standing around, talking, laughing, and eating the yummy food my mom had spent all morning cooking.

  She was usually too busy to cook, but when she did it was mouthwateringly hip-check-people-out-of-the-way good.

  I smiled and waved and was hugged more times than I could count.

  And then I saw Paul—broad as a house and head and shoulders taller than most everyone else—duck down through the front door.

  I abandoned all pretenses and ran across the room, using my court skills to bob and weave through the veritable throng of people, until I slammed into Paul’s massive chest and hugged him as hard as I could.

  “Thank god you came,” I squealed with delight. “Thank you, thank you!”

  “Cali!” Paul said, laughing. “Are you sure it isn’t because I have your graduation present in my pocket?”

  I shook my head vigorously. “No, no. All I want is you, here.”

  He chuckled some more.

  I blinked, loosened my hold around his ribs and looked up at him.

  “Not that I’m against presents.”

  He smiled down at me. “Really? Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer I took it back and made a charitable donation to something like Save the Rainforest?”

  I raised an eyebrow—a move I’d worked for three months to perfect.

  “Who am I, Saint Cali? Gimme!”

  Paul made a show of reaching into the vest pocket of his sports jacket and pulling out an envelope… and then dangling it over my head, just out of reach.

  Sad, silly man…

  I jumped up and snatched it out of his hand before he even had time to gloat over his being so much taller than me.

  Ha!

  I ripped the end open and pulled out five hundred dollar bills.

  Money…

  I felt a pang of disappointment.

  You gave money when you didn’t know what to give someone…

  “You’ll need that,” he said, and then pulled another envelope from the back pocket of his blue jeans. “You know… spending money while you’re there.”

  I smiled as I took the second envelope and tore it open. “While I’m there? Where am I going?”

  Inside the envelope was a plane ticket to Phoenix, Arizona…

  Nice. It was first class. And I’d never even flown before.

  I felt another piece of paper behind it, so I flipped the plane ticket behind the other piece of paper…

  And about fell over.

  The other ticket was to a three day basketball clinic run by Tamika Catchings of the Phoenix Fever!

  Tamika Catchings… arguably the greatest player to play in the WNBA, ever.

  I went completely non-verbal for the next thirty seconds, gasping and making little squealing, puppy whine sounds.

  And then my brain reengaged and I started screaming, “Oh-my-god-oh-my-god-oh-my-god!”

  I threw myself on Paul again, hugging him as hard as I could.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

  He hugged me back, and he sighed.

  That sigh meant so much. It meant he missed me as much as I’d missed him.

  “You’re welcome. I booked you a room at the Marriot just down the street from where the camp will be held. I was told it’s where most of the other participants will be staying too, so you won’t be alone.”

  I let go of him… not really wanting to, and looked up at him, shaking my head. “You’re the best.”

  “Joshua found out about it for me. I was going to buy you tickets to Cancun… maybe Fiji.”

  Joshua…

  Joshua had thought to find a basketball camp run by my favorite player of all time.

  I loved Tamika more than LeBron… more than Kobe.

  And he’d remembered…

  I swallowed. My mouth was suddenly very dry.

  “I guess he couldn’t come,” I said.

  As if magicked out of thin air, Joshua materialized at his father’s side, taller, broader, and handsomer than ever.

  The blue polo shirt he wore only made his eyes look greener than usual.

  I felt every molecule in my body start to vibrate at the same time. My heart was pounding against my sternum and I gasped in spite of myself.

  Those eyes smoldered—a promise of naughty, reckless things to come.

  I ripped my gaze from him and bit my lip, trying to cause myself enough pain to keep me from staring at the man like I was… like I was…

  In love with him…

  Joshua laughed.

  My eyes shot to him and that smolder was gone. In its place was the leer of an arrogant, preening asshole.

  “Don’t worry, princess. I wouldn’t miss your little party for the world.” He walked toward me, and then past me, his shoulder brushing against my own. “Dad made me come.”

  Paul gave Joshua a bewildered look, but then smiled at me again.

  I felt cold all over, except for my face. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Part of me was ecstatic that Joshua was here. That part wanted to rush into his arms and kiss the ever-loving shit out of him.

  But part of me wanted to slap him again, even harder than the last time.

  Both parts of me, though, were hurt that he’d had to be forced to come see me.

  It had been two years.

  Not a text. Not a phone call or a birthday card… nothing.

  Except he’d picked out my gift—a gift I loved—for my dad to give me.

  I hugged myself and plastered my best fake smile on my face.

  I couldn’t let Paul or anyone else know the depth of my feelings for Joshua.

  As Paul told me about some of the great workshops and activities awaiting me at the basketball camp, I stole a glance at my stepbrother.

  He stood over by the front window, slouching against the windowsill, smiling like the big bad wolf at one of my teammates. Katie Boyd.

  His eyes slid over her from head to toe… and he licked his lips.

  And then his eyes slid over to me, and the heat that was there when he looked at Katie extinguished, leaving his eyes cold and hard.

  I almost looked away.

  I wanted to look away.

  Having him look at me like that just plain hurt…

  But I wouldn’t look away, I wouldn’t let him do this to me in my own house, at my goddamn graduation party.

&nb
sp; Not after he’d ignored me for two years.

  I glared back, and then felt my lips twitch into an unexpected grin.

  Whether Paul had forced him or not, Joshua had still come. He was twenty years old. If a twenty-year-old truly didn’t want to do something, they didn’t do it.

  Whatever he saw in my expression made his own smugness dim. He shook his head and then turned his attentions back onto Katie. He leaned in and whispered something into her ear, and she blushed and giggled.

  I interrupted Paul, taking him by the arm and pulling him toward the kitchen. Maybe some of mom’s lasagna and strawberry lemonade would wash the sour ashes out of my mouth.

  I hoped.

  Chapter 5

  Loren Rollins was gushing over how jealous she was that I’d gotten a full scholarship to Chapel Hill. I couldn’t imagine why. Her family was rich by any standard, and she was already heading off to Stanford, where she was promised a spot on the basketball team.

  Her mother and father had met while attending Stanford, so Loren was a legacy. She had even been invited to join her mother’s old sorority.

  Maybe she just wanted to have earned something. Maybe that was it.

  So I kept listening and trying not to look uncomfortable about it.

  I saw mom and Paul talking out in the kitchen. He’d practically eaten his weight in mom’s cooking, complimenting her on every new dish he tried.

  As if he’d never had her cooking. She’d cooked all the time when they were married.

  A girl I’d only spoken to once while in line for lunch flitted past with a piece of my mom’s strawberries and lime ice box cake, making my mouth water, and my mental calculator—which was now up to forty-seven classmates—wondered how many of my classmates had tagged along with someone I knew, and how many just crashed.

  It was an open invitation, sure. But I meant an open invitation for my Facebook friends.

  Just then I saw Joshua pulling Katie Boyd by the hand across the room toward the hallway with the master bathroom and mom and mine’s bedrooms.

  Katie looked tipsy, but not as if she wasn’t ready and willing to follow Joshua wherever it was he was taking her. Her face was flushed, and she had a dopey smile on her face.

  They disappeared into the hallway and I turned and headed for the kitchen.