On the Outside Looking In (Wrong Reasons)

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On the Outside Looking In (Wrong Reasons) Page 6

by Paul, JL


  He grinned as he pressed the power button and set the volume low. “My aunt manages them and needs me to check out an issue.”

  “An issue?” I asked as the light changed and I accelerated.

  “Yeah – a clogged sink or something in one of the apartments.”

  “Wait – are you, like, a…maintenance guy or something?” I asked.

  “Or something,” he said, gazing out the window. “The regular maintenance guys are at the other complex she manages on the other side of town. I just fill in when she needs it.”

  “Oh,” I said, turning left to skirt the downtown area. “So, let me get this straight – you work at the garage, at Rusty’s, and as a maintenance guy?”

  He snorted a laugh. “I only help out with the maintenance shit when Susie needs help.”

  “Susie?”

  “Susan,” he said with another lift of the shoulder. “My aunt.”

  Out of questions, I focused on traffic until the sign for the apartment complex came into view. I turned into the lot and waited for him to direct me.

  “Follow the road around that way,” he said, pointing. “The apartment is in the back.”

  I did as he asked and stopped in front of a building that housed at least six units. As the engine idled, I waited for him to get out so I could escape to my own apartment.

  “Come on,” he said as he unbuckled his belt.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ll need your help.”

  Stymied, I sat where I was as he opened his door. “I know nothing about plumbing.”

  “You don’t need to know anything,” he said, one leg out of the door.

  “What am I supposed to do – carry your toolbox?”

  Chuckling, he reached over to shut off the engine. “No. It’s a simple thing, actually. Just unclog a sink.”

  “Great,” I said, yanking my keys from his hand. “How do we get in?”

  He produced a set of keys from his jacket pocket as he climbed out of the car. With a sigh, I did the same, slamming the door.

  “Don’t you need tools?” I asked.

  He walked around the car, meeting me on the sidewalk, and lifted a brow. “Offering to carry my toolbox?”

  “Not at all, but how are you supposed to fix something without tools?”

  “Watch.”

  We entered the second floor apartment and were immediately assaulted with the smell – stale booze, lingering tobacco, and old pizza. Crinkling my nose, I walked through the living room strewn with beer cans, pizza boxes, and overflowing ashtrays. Posters of popular heavy metal bands and models in tiny bikinis were tacked to the beige walls. A matching set of battered recliners were situated in front of an entertainment center full of video gaming equipment.

  “Looks like someone had one hell of a Halloween party,” Evan said, laughing. “Bet it was fun.”

  I didn’t comment.

  The kitchen was smaller than the living room but equally as filthy. Dirty dishes lined the counters along with takeout containers containing scrapes of rotting chicken, hamburgers, and fries. The contents of the garbage can spilled to the floor in front of a rickety microwave cart.

  “How do people live like this?” I whispered.

  “They’re college students,” Evan said as he peered into a sink full of murky, stinky water. “They’re busy.”

  “I’m a busy college student but I still make time to pick up after myself,” I said.

  Evan picked up a bottle of cheap, department store drain opener and shook the bottle, smug smile on his lips. “Amateurs.”

  “Oh, and you’re a master plumber?”

  “No, but I know better than to use this shit,” he said. “Wait right here. I need to grab some stuff from the maintenance closet downstairs.”

  I nodded even though I didn’t want to remain in that nasty apartment any longer than necessary – and especially not by myself. For all I knew, the rats, mice, and roaches would be making an appearance – and I could not stand any of those creatures.

  Evan reappeared a few minutes later with a bucket and a large, gray bottle. He held it up, shaking it at me, like I knew what it was. I stood back and watched him bail the water out of the sink with a cup, dumping it into the bucket. When the bottom of the sink was visible, he poured the contents of the bottle into the drain slowly, and then stood back, screwing on the cap.

  “We just need to wait fifteen minutes and then flush it with hot tap water,” he explained.

  “Great,” I said, pulling my jacket tighter.

  “Ah, don’t let the mess bother you,” he said, setting the bottle on the counter. “This place isn’t as bad as some of the other places.”

  “I find that hard to believe,” I said.

  Laughing, he snatched a wobbly chair out from under an equally wobbly table and scooted it my way.

  “No thanks, I’m good,” I said.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Eerie silence hovered above us like an awkward bird, daring us to make conversation. I stood there, wondering why I was in a stranger’s nasty apartment with a guy I barely knew. How in the world had I gotten myself into such a situation? I imagined what Irelyn or Bailey would do if they were in my shoes. Irelyn, most likely, would think of something to talk about to put everyone at ease. Bailey would use her snark to make things interesting. Me, though, not so much. I was just boring. And I was tired of being boring.

  “Let me see if it’s working,” Evan finally said as he peered into the sink. He turned on the tap, his finger under the water, testing the temperature.

  I watched, more out of boredom than curiosity, and sure enough, the water ran down the drain without a pause.

  “Excellent,” he grinned as he lifted the bucket and slowly poured the water into the sink. “Problem solved.”

  “Great. Can we go now?”

  “Yep. Just let me put this stuff away,” he said as he gathered the bottle and the bucket, pausing to put on his coat. I followed him out of the apartment, to a closet on the ground floor where he stored his equipment before locking the door. “Let’s go.”

  Nodding, I pushed through the door as he removed a cellphone from his pocket. I caught snippets of his conversation as he got into the car.

  “Yep, it’s done,” he said, fastening his seat belt. “I’m on my way home so I can get ready for work at Rusty’s.”

  Starting the engine, I waited for him to end his call. There were several garages in town and I hadn’t a clue which one he worked at and lived above.

  “Okay, let’s go,” he said, tucking his phone into his pocket.

  “Where?”

  “Home,” he said, fiddling with the radio.

  “I don’t know where your home is located.”

  “Mel’s Garage on Eighth Street.”

  I left the parking lot and entered traffic. Evan toyed with the radio, pushing the preset buttons and snorting at my choices. Ignoring him, I hurried through town, desperate to get rid of him so I could get home.

  “Turn left here,” he said.

  I did as he asked even though Eighth Street was still a few blocks away. “Please tell me that we’re not running another errand. I’d like to get home.”

  “No more errands. I have to get to work, you know,” he said, hiding a grin. “This is a shortcut. Turn down this alley.”

  Driving slowly through the alley, I waited for him to tell me when to stop. I’d pretty much lost track of where I was.

  “See that blue building on the right?” he asked. “Pull up behind it.”

  I did and put the car in Park.

  He pointed at a staircase leading to a door in the back of the blue building. “That’s where I live. Cool, huh?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  Laughing, he leaned over the console to peck my cheek. “Thanks for the help. Maybe I’ll see you at Rusty’s tonight.”

  “I doubt it. It’s Wednesday and I have class tomorrow.”

  “It’s Ladies’ Night,” he protest
ed. “We run specials for the ladies.”

  Rolling my eyes, I glanced out the windshield. “I’m sure you do.”

  “No, it’s cool, really. Ladies get one free drink and eat off the menu at half-price.”

  “It’s not my thing,” I said.

  The lopsided grin fell off of his face as he withdrew. “All right. I’ll see you around.”

  Slipping out of the car, I watched as he jogged up the staircase and unlocked the door.

  “Damn him,” I groaned as I pulled away from the building and headed home.

  But I couldn’t relax. I sat in my favorite chair with my laptop, the volume on the television low, but couldn’t concentrate on a single thing. All that floated in my mind was the smile slipping off of Evan’s face.

  Groaning, I shut my laptop and set it on the low coffee table. Trying not to think about what I was preparing to do, I hurried to my bedroom and changed my sweatshirt for a deep blue sweater. Running a brush through my hair, I put on my coat and boots, grabbed my purse and phone, and headed out the door.

  I’d never been to Rusty’s for Ladies’ Night and wasn’t sure what to expect. It was still fairly early – only a little after seven – so I didn’t think it would be too crowded. From my experience, most coeds in the area didn’t hit the bars or clubs until around nine. How they managed to go out so late and get to class in the morning was beyond me.

  I parked in the lot, relieved to see it mostly empty, and rushed through the bitter wind to the door. The bar was about as empty as the lot – only a few older students sitting at the bar watching the sports channel. Two tables were occupied with couples, but that was it.

  Standing near the door, clutching my purse while shifting my weight from one foot to another, I contemplated whether I should sit at a table by myself, looking like an idiot, or amble up to the bar and listen to Evan razz me.

  Shaking the thoughts from my head, I crossed the room and slipped onto an empty stool. I had come because I’d felt bad about turning him down. I’d just grab something to eat and return home. I didn’t owe him anything.

  “Well, look who’s here.”

  The familiar voice chilled my blood and stiffened my spine. “I should have known that you’d be here on Ladies’ Night. Looking for your next victim?”

  Laughing, Owen Masters moved to the stool next to me. “You’re cute, Morgan. I miss you.”

  “You don’t miss me,” I said, staring at the light board behind the bar, advertising the specials. “You miss playing games with me and my friends.”

  “Friends?” he asked, twisting his stool so that his back rested against the bar. He clutched a short glass in his right hand, swirling it so that the ice clinked together.

  “Yes, friends.”

  Chuckling, he winked at me. “You don’t have friends, Morgan, remember? Irelyn and Bailey are not your friends.”

  “Yes, they are,” I said, wincing. I sounded like a first grader.

  “Whatever you say, sweet thing,” he said, reaching out to caress my cheek.

  I jerked my face away from his touch, repulsed by the mere sight of him.

  “Don’t touch her.”

  Owen turned toward the bar, his leering face a bit astonished. “McNew? What the fuck is your problem? You doing her now?”

  Skin flushed and brows dipped way low, Evan’s dark eyes focused solely on Owen.

  “It’s obvious to me that she doesn’t want you to touch her. So, leave her alone.”

  Owen’s face broke into a grin as he glanced at me. “Good luck to you, man. She’s an icy bitch. Virginal. Saving her shit for Spencer Kelly, like he’d give up that piece of ass, Jessica.”

  Heat rushed to my cheeks as I held my head up, not letting it fall. I would not let Owen know that he’d degraded me again.

  “You’re a shit, Masters,” Evan said, his fists resting on the bar, ready for action. “Why the hell are you hanging out here, anyway?”

  Laughing, Owen twisted to face Evan fully. “It’s Ladies’ Night, my man. I’m here for the ladies.”

  Evan shifted slightly to grab a glass and fill it with diet soda. He slid the glass in front of me, his eyes still on Owen.

  “Come on, McNew,” Owen said with a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. “We’ve been friends for a long time. Don’t let some…psycho whore… come between us.”

  “She’s not a whore,” Evan said, his eyes narrowing.

  Owen laughed as he set his glass on the bar. “I get it, man. You’re into her. All right. It’s cool.”

  Evan refilled Owen’s glass with vodka and a clear liquid. He placed it in front of Owen, refusing his payment. “Just leave Morgan alone.”

  “Sure, man,” Owen said, picking up his drink and moving to the opposite end of the bar.

  Releasing a breath, I lifted my soda and sipped it.

  “I take it you know Owen,” Evan said, moving in front of me and crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Unfortunately.”

  Nodding, he reached under the bar and snatched a laminated menu, dropping it to the bar. “He’s not as bad as he seems.”

  “He’s horrible,” I said as I lifted the menu with slightly trembling hands. I perused my choices even though my stomach rejected the thought of food.

  “I’ve known Owen for a long time,” Evan explained, his eyes shooting to the end of the bar where Owen sat, conversing with two women who’d just entered. “We used to hang out a lot until his mom fell into some cash and bought him a bar.”

  “Yes, I’ve been in his bar,” I said as I set the menu down.

  “Did you decide?”

  “A cup of the vegetable soup,” I said.

  “That’s all?” Evan asked.

  I nodded. Shrugging, Evan turned around to enter my order into a computer. When he turned back, he stared at my face, unnerving me.

  “So, did you know that he lost that bar?” Evan asked.

  “No,” I said, sipping my soda. “Can’t say that I care.”

  Snorting, Evan filled another glass with ice water. He took a drink as he glanced at Owen again. “Yeah, he’s a lousy businessman. Screwed up his taxes and sold dope and other drugs out of the back room. I don’t even want to tell you what went on in the little rooms upstairs.”

  I didn’t want to tell him that I already had a shrewd idea.

  “Anyway, we stopped hanging out so much once he started the bar,” Evan said. “He was always a jerk, but he’s gotten worse.”

  I continued to drink my soda. I didn’t want to talk about Owen Masters or my involvement with him.

  He leaned over the bar, invading my space. “Tell me that you didn’t date him.”

  My heart beat a quick rhythm. “I don’t want to talk about Owen. He makes me ill.”

  Evan continued to look into my eyes, even as a group of college guys settled onto the stools next to me.

  Giving up, Evan moved away to wait on his new customers. I took that moment to compose myself – get my emotions in check. It was certainly none of Evan McNew’s business if I did date Owen and I didn’t need to explain anything to him. But what if Owen decided to tell him about our short stint as a couple? Would he exaggerate? Would he outright lie?

  My eyes shot to Owen who was engaged in conversation with the girls near him. Maybe he’d become too preoccupied with the women and not talk to Evan about me.

  Evan placed a cup of soup in front of me, usual smile on his lips. I blew across the cup, relieved for the moment. Maybe I’d dodge this bullet.

  As I opened a package of crackers, I paused.

  Why did I even care?

  Chapter Seven

  Thursday evening, I sat behind the counter of Beans, Art History book open in front of me. A hard, cold rain fell outside the big windows, keeping most people holed up in their cozy homes. Every twenty minutes or so, a drenched customer would wander in for something warm to drink, but there was no mad rush for caffeine. I snatched the opportunity to do a little reading as I was caught u
p on coursework.

  I hadn’t spoken to Evan since my Ladies’ Night dinner at Rusty’s. I hadn’t seen him lurking about the campus nor had he come in for plain coffee. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about it. I worried that he’d had a nice long conversation with Owen, but I still couldn’t figure out why that concerned me. Anyone who knew Owen, knew what he was like. And it wasn’t as if I was dating Evan. I guess I just didn’t want my reputation smeared.

  “What reputation?” I murmured as I flipped the page. Sighing, I glanced at the clock. Only fifteen minutes until I could close. I hated working alone sometimes but as it was so slow, I’d sent Dante home early to study for an exam.

  Just as I got up to pour myself a cup of cocoa, my cellphone buzzed. I retrieved it from my bag under the counter and read Irelyn’s text.

  Come by Bailey’s tonight if you can.

  Wondering what it could be about, I shot off a quick reply, telling her I’d be there once I closed up shop.

  Anxious for a quiet evening with my friends, I began my end of night duties early. Once the clock hit closing time, I locked the doors, finished my chores, and headed straight for my car, not bothering to run upstairs to change or anything.

  When I reached Bailey’s place, not only was Irelyn’s car there, but Spencer’s, too. That more than likely meant that Jessica was there, taking my spot and gloating because she could hang off of Spencer’s arm and I couldn’t.

  “Morgan,” Collin said when he answered the door. “Cool. Glad you could make it.”

  “Thanks,” I said as I stepped inside, removing my coat and scarf. Collin took them, tossing them on an empty chair before taking me by the hand and leading me to the kitchen. Once again, the usual gang was there, gathered around the table. My heart leapt and fell at the sight of Spencer – and Jessica.

  “Hey,” I said, sitting in the chair Lucas indicated. “What’s going on?”

  Collin slipped into the seat next to Bailey and draped an arm around her shoulders.

  “Well,” Bailey said, hands wrapped around a mug of tea. “We just wanted to tell you something.”

  My heart picked up an extra beat. I sent up a silent prayer, hoping that we wouldn’t rehash all that had happened over the summer. No need to beat a dead horse.

 

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