Field-Tripped

by Nicole Archer

  I retched and coughed.

  Patrick stood. “I need a minute,” he said, and stormed out of the restaurant.

  Her roommate’s phone rang. “Yo! I can’t hear you. Let me go outside.”

  All of a sudden it was just the Scarlet Letter and I.

  “Who was it?” My voice cracked like a prepubescent boy.

  She didn’t look up from her menu. “Huh?”

  I grabbed it out of her hands and flung it aside. “Who did you fuck last night?”

  She lifted her chin. “What do you care? You don’t want anything to do with me.”

  I replied through clenched teeth, “I can’t have anything to do with you, because your brother won’t let me.”

  She shrugged and picked up her roommate’s menu. “Well, then, that’s too bad.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “It wasn’t exactly paradise, but I’m sure it will get better with practice.”

  I threw the menu on the other table. “With practice!”

  “Well, yeah. Where are you going?”

  Somewhere far away from you. I grabbed my skateboard and blasted outside, cruising down Pearl Street at Mach 10 speed, not caring one bit if I slammed into a pole.

  And then I saw it. The only thing that could take away my pain. A tattoo parlor.

  During the five hours of stabbing pain, I took a long, hard look at my friendship with Charlie’s brother.

  All my firsts were with him. First porn viewing. First time getting drunk. First backpacking adventure. First time snowboarding. In fact, he was the one who got me into racing.

  And Patrick’s family was more important than my own. They were my support system. They went to all my races. They celebrated my birthdays like I was their kid. My own mother was too busy cheating on my dad, and my dad was too busy working.

  I loved Patrick. I loved his parents. And I loved Charlie. Why couldn’t I have all of them?

  For years, Patrick told me I was too slutty for her. I should have told him I was slutty because of her. Because he wouldn’t let me be with her.

  I tried to find someone else. Someone as challenging as her. And it didn’t work. And then she went and fucked someone else.

  The tattoo artist was a burly biker dude, or I’d have cried right there with the needle in my arm.

  If my best friend couldn’t accept that I was in love with his sister, then I’d just have to go behind his back.

  Eventually, he’d come to terms with it. Especially when he saw how much I loved her. And one day, maybe during the holidays, we’d all sit around the table and laugh at how stupid this was.

  Once the tattoo was done, I rushed to Charlie’s dorm and threw a rock at her window. It crashed through the glass. “Charlie!”

  Her head popped into view. “What the hell!”

  “Let me in!”

  The buzzer sounded at the main entrance, and I took the stairs two at a time up to her room.

  She was standing in the doorway, looking furious. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  “Is your roommate here?”

  “No. Why?”

  I pushed past her and entered her dorm. Then I grabbed her by the waist and folded her into my arms. “You are mine. Do you hear me? Mine.”

  She licked her lips and nodded.

  I clutched the back of her neck and gave her a greedy kiss that was both rough and sweet.

  She melted in my arms like snow on warm ground.

  I pressed my forehead against hers. “It should have been me.”

  Her hands gripped my biceps, and I jerked back out of her grip.

  Her brows lowered. “Did I hurt you?”

  I unzipped my hoodie and showed her my arm.

  She moved in for a closer look. “You got a tattoo? Of feathers?”

  “Chicken feathers. For you.”

  Her arm swung in front of her stomach, and she bent over and guffawed.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “Oh, Elliott.” She caressed my face. “You adorable man. You defaced your beautiful body for me, with”—she snorted and doubled over again—“chicken feathers! When you’re old and withered, you are so going to regret this.”

  “Not as much as I regret letting another man steal your virginity.”

  Her laughter faded. “I wish I could grow it back for you. I didn’t think you wanted me.”

  I shook my head and yanked her pigtail. “I’ve always wanted you.”

  “What about Patrick?”

  “Screw him.”

  “Really?”

  “No. We’ll have to keep this a secret. For now.”

  She sighed. “Okay, but not for long. I don’t like lying to my family.”

  “I have to go to training. Don’t make plans this weekend.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m going to show you what paradise is.”

  Her roommate kicked open the door right then, and unloaded a case of Mountain Dew on the floor. “Dudes! I’m cracked out on caffeine. Anyone want to run a marathon?”

  I zipped up my hoodie. “Walk me to the door, Chicken.”

  “When are you going to stop calling me that?”

  “Never.”

  The door slammed shut then opened again.

  “Next time, Loser,” she shouted down the hallway, “don’t make me wait. Also, you owe me for that window.”

  Later, I found out she’d made up the entire story to get me into bed. I’ve never been so happy to have a woman lie to me.

  Eli’s Mixtape: The Romantics, “What I Like About You”

  SINCE ORION’S pagoda melted into a pile of nothing over lunch, the only thing of theirs left to topple was the dick hut.

  In less than ten minutes, we lob the head off of it. We follow that up with an endless amount of shit giving.

  The defeat is huge. We’re tied.

  While we’re hugging it out and high-fiving each other, our enemies bolt into the woods with red flags Velcroed to their waists.

  “Game’s not over, team,” Skip says, like a general at war.

  “What’s the plan?” asks Sabrina. “Should we chase after them?”

  “Personally, I’m gonna smoke a fatty.” Skip waves a hand. “But chase away, if that’s what you want.”

  “Make sure to flash your boobs,” Sam tells Sabrina with a poker face.

  Preeti looks horrified. “That religious woman will call the police.”

  “Not a good idea,” Avery says, grabbing Skip’s joint and taking a toke.

  “Adams! I’m shocked,” he says, not sounding the slightest bit shocked.

  “Get over it.” She takes a hit and blows smoke in his face. “My kid’s asleep. I’m having fun. Might as well smoke a doob.”

  “I have a bong in my room.”

  I groan. “Are we going to stand here and get high? Or are we going to beat these clowns?” I can’t wait to see Charlie’s face when we win. Revenge will be so delicious.

  Skip pinches the end of the joint, stuffs it back in his pocket, then wanders off in the opposite direction.

  “Useless,” I mutter. “Guess it’s up to us, guys.”

  No one moves.

  “Fischer?”

  “I’m in,” he says.

  Together, we head into the woods like a medieval huntsman. My first target? Alan. And after I take him down, I’m taking Charlie. And I’m not talking about her flags.

  With Sam by my side, we crouch to examine footprints like we’re Cheyenne scouts. It’s ludicrous, and we laugh the whole way.

  Sam caws like a bird then throws a two-finger signal behind a tree.

  I leap up like a rabbit and take Alan by surprise.

  The tool chuckles and raises his hand. “Got me, man.”

  Damn right I did. Now go away.

  Off to the side, a set of dog prints meander deep into the forest. I stuff the flags in my pocket and motion to Sam. With a few far-fetched military signals, I more or less tell him it’s time to split up.
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  Somehow he understands me and breaks left.

  The footprints end at the bottom of tree, where the four beasts lay protectively around the trunk.

  I look up, and WHAM! Charlie jumps out of the tree, lands on top of me, and rips off my flags.

  The wind is knocked out of me, and while I’m still trying to catch a breath, she straddles my chest and grins like an evil elf.

  “How’d you climb up there with your shoulder?”

  “Never-you-mind.”

  “You could have broken something.”

  “Hmpf. You’re the one grunting like an old man.”

  I flip her over on her back. While she squirms underneath me, I tear my flags from her hands then grab hers and stuff them down my pants.

  One of her dogs toddles over and sniffs me. “I’m not hurting her, boy.” I wiggle my brows. “Yet.”

  She thrashes under me. “Get off!”

  I yank my gloves off with my teeth, unzip her jacket and shove my hands under her sweater. Her nipples pucker delightfully. “Ah, warm and toasty under there.”

  She tears at my zipper. “Gimme those flags.”

  I sit up and put my knees on either side of her chest. “Take ‘em. And while you’re there…” More brow wiggles ensue.

  Her body stills. “What are you doing?”

  “Pinching your nipples.”

  “I know that! But what are you doing? Why do you keep doing this?”

  “Pinching your nipples?”

  Her lips clamp together as if she’s fighting not to enjoy it.

  I unzip my pants the whole way. “Time to claim my prize,” I joke. “Open up, Chicken.”

  Never in a million years did I think she’d grab my cock and swallow me whole.

  “Whoa. Yeah. Okay. Do it.”

  Her teeth gently scrape my head while her tongue swirls and sucks down my length. She moans, closes her eyes, and savors my cock like it’s the most wonderful thing in the world.

  It is.

  Her warm fingers curl around my balls and tug. The cold outside and the heat inside her mouth—it’s so painfully good.

  I reach back, unzip her snow pants, and bury my cold fingers in her hot, slick warmth.

  Again she moans.

  I’m in the midst of getting a backwoods BJ by a beautiful woman. Time for some dirty talk. “Suck it,” I coax. “Suck it hard. You look so good sucking my cock.” I pump a few times then concentrate on her needs, because rubbing her clit turns me on as much as her lips on my dick.

  It’s building rather quickly. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold off,” I say.

  She looks up at me. I need you, I want you, I miss you, I’m hungry for you, she says with her eyes.

  Translation not necessary—I’m telling her the same things.

  I tilt my head back and stop breathing.

  Grunting and panting, I tense, jerk my base, and shoot a hot load down her throat. Cum pulses out of me at an alarming rate. “Drink my dick, beautiful,” I tell her. “That’s it.”

  A drop dribbles out of the side of her lip. I capture it with my pussy-drenched finger and let her suck it off.

  “That was incredible. I should win more often.”

  She kisses my tip and gives me sultry kitty side-eye. “You’ve gotten dirty in your old age.”

  “I’ve always been dirty.” I zip up my pants.

  Deep and hard, I kiss her, tasting myself on her tongue.

  But it doesn’t feel like a kiss. It feels much worse. I’m falling for her again.

  A stick cracks, and her littlest dog barks.

  I roll off of her.

  The sound of bickering nears. Joy and Wang appear and freeze in their tracks.

  Charlie stumbles to her feet and brushes the snow off her clothes. “Hey, guys.”

  They tilt their heads in the same direction.

  “What are you doing?” Joy asks.

  I yank a flag from my pants. “I’m fucking your boss.”

  Charlie gasps then chuckles. “He’s kidding.”

  While they’re gaping, I tear off Joy and Wang’s flags and saunter off.

  “Not cool!” Wang blusters.

  “Street rulz, bitch.” I laugh like a madman all the way back to the lodge.

  No, really, I’m going crazy. This adventure, Charlie, this stupid fresh mountain air, the fun—I’m losing my ever-loving mind.

  I need to meditate.

  My team is milling around the fort when I arrive. I hold six flags over my head. “Lookie what I got.”

  Sabrina sprints over and jumps in my arms. I briefly consider dropping her on her ass. Instead, I loosen my grip and lower her to her feet.

  Her smile unfolds into a disappointed frown.

  Sam holds up six more flags.

  Jerry whips two more over his head like a lasso.

  Avery throws another two flags in the air and lets them float to the ground.

  “We won?” I ask. “For real?” I mean I feel like a winner after that backwoods BJ, but I didn’t expect to actually win the game.

  “Fischer’s military training paid off,” Skip says. “Our brilliant developer camouflaged himself with a white trash bag and ambushed them.” He lets out one “Ha!”

  I fist-bump Sam. “Way to go, dude.”

  Avery giggles obscenely.

  Skip throws a glance over his shoulder and then shows us his contraband phone. “Got it all on video. I’m going to post it on the company blog.”

  “Hell, yeah!” Jerry tries to fist bump my boss.

  Skip gives him a blank stare in return.

  “So we’re tied with Orion?” I ask.

  “Here’s to beating Orion’s arse!” Preeti staggers over with a cup of cider in her hand. “We now have a good chance of winning the business.”

  “The intern is wasted,” Skip informs me.

  “Highly intoxifuckcated,” she says.

  I laugh and give her a hug.

  Then, like a little league team that just won a pennant, we lift our boss on our shoulders and carry him to the lodge, shouting, “Shimura! Shimura!”

  Is it too soon to admit this is the best goddamned business trip ever?

  TWENTY-ONE

  Charlie Is Tired of Waiting

  December 2003

  IF ONE MORE OF Elliott’s playthings asks me if I’m his sister, I’m going to go postal.

  Why does he keep this up? I know he doesn’t want to be with any of these girls. I talked to Weiner about it. He says Elliott needs to man up and ask me out. But until that happens, he’s going to give him eternal shit.

  I feel sorry for those girls. I feel sorry for me.

  Stupid loser.

  Later that week

  Today was a sad day. Sir Farts A Lot passed away. Elliott dug a hole in the frozen ground in our backyard. It took him two hours, but he said he wanted to make sure the hole was deep enough. He lined it with his favorite blanket and set him in. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so sad. How can people bear to lose their loved ones, when I can barely deal with losing my old dog?

  RIP boy.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Charlie Has A Fit

  Eli’s Mixtape: Marian Hill, “Down”

  LOOK AT HIM, smirking while he eats. Smug, sexy bastard.

  These dinners with him are better than the latest fad diet. I don’t think I’ve eaten a full plate of food in days.

  He’s the one I want to eat up. He’s like a potent aphrodisiac. All he has to do is sit there, and I want him.

  And why? Why, after all that happened, would I still want that jerk?

  Stanley and Wang strike up a conversation with him about his racing days.

  If only I could disappear into thin air.

  “So if you hadn’t blown out your knee,” Wang asks, “you would have been one of the first snowboarders in the Olympics?”

  Elliott stirs his food around in his plate. “Yep.”

  “Sucks, man,” Stanley says. “All that training for n
othing.”

  “You must have been devastated,” Avery adds.

  “Nah. Not really.”

  “Unbelievable,” I mutter. Guess he’s blocked out that little memory too. The truth is he didn’t get out of bed for a week.

  All eyes land on me.

  Alan clears his throat. “Do you guys know each other?”

  “Never met the guy,” I say without looking up from my plate. He’s not the one I fell in love with years ago. Not that cold bastard across from me. I shovel salad into my mouth and crunch down hard.

  Burt, seated at the head of the table, chimes in. “I’m pretty sure Beaver Beard was crying like a baby.”

  Eli tips his beer to Burt and gives him a tight smile. “And how would you know?”

  Art lays his hand over Burt’s to shut him up.

  “What?” Burt asks innocently.

  “Let’s not insult the guests.”

  “Nah, I like it,” says Elliott. “It’s a compliment. I earned that title. Can I get it embroidered on the back of a T-shirt?”

  “You should,” Sabrina says. “Best ride of my life.”

  Would anyone mind if I barfed right here? I rest my chin in my hand. “Oh, do tell, Sabrina,” I say sarcastically, then realize too late she doesn’t understand sarcasm.

  “I used to call him magic mouth, didn’t I, Eli?”

  Eli pinches the bridge of his nose.

  Sam tosses his napkin on his plate. “I’m out.”

  “I second that,” Skip says.

  Jerry folds his hand across his chest. “I’m in.”

  “This is inappropriate dinner conversation.” Christine gets up from her chair mumbling a verse from the Bible about sodomy and wine.

  Sabrina winces. “Guess I let the cat out of the backpack, didn’t I?”

  “We’re all ears, Sabrina,” I say.

  Elliott shifts in his seat. “No, we’re not.”

  Rather than detail the “incredible head” he gives her, Sabrina pours out their relationship problems. “He wouldn’t even introduce me to his roommate. Told me he wanted to keep things a secret.” She finger quotes secret.

  I cross one leg over the other and sit back. “Funny, I dated someone like that. Dated him for a year in secret. He refused to tell anyone, even my family.”