by Shen, L. J.
They looked like Greek gods, if they came from Jersey Shore and carried extra pounds from an all-you-can-eat vacay on Olympus. It was all bullshit, anyway. Half those fuckers wouldn’t find Greece on the map if it were highlighted with five different Sharpies. I made my way to my first lecture, determined not to kill anyone today.
The weekend’s bad vibes still lingered on my mood.
I moseyed past Reign, his Sig Ep friends, Tess, the blonde deranged chick from Oklahoma—Melt-down-nie, as Reign had dubbed her after Saturday—and a few other girls. They were all hunched together, red-eyed, gossiping in the hallway. I was about to round the corner and get into Addams’ class when I heard Reign howling behind me.
“Yo, Toastie! Did you fall from Heaven? Because your face sure is fucked-up.”
The entire hall erupted in reverberating laughter.
I stopped walking, my hands curling into fists.
“Just kidding. Looking hot, baby girl!”
Another wave of laughter. Texas didn’t respond. It took everything in me not to turn around and look at her face.
Don’t fucking snap. She doesn’t want your pity.
“C’mon, now, Toast. I’m not just buttering you up. Sex with me will set you on fire.”
More laughter.
The flash of phone cameras as pictures were taken.
Snickers, cupped mouths, cell phones out.
Something inside of me snapped.
Sorry, Texas. No can do.
I turned around and charged toward him. He was still wearing his stupid toga and what looked like a crapped-on nest but was supposed to be a head wreath. His douchebag smile collapsed like a Jenga tower when he realized I was coming for his ass. I didn’t check where Texas was. If she was even around. I tackled Reign with my shoulder, slamming him against the wall, bunching his toga in my fist. The fabric fell apart, pooling at his ankles, leaving a strap of white cloth draped over his chest. He was standing in the hall wearing nothing but his boxers. I grabbed his throat and raised him until his feet no longer touched the floor. My jaw ticked so hard I thought my teeth were going to snap out of my mouth one by one.
“Jesus, man!” His yelp was muffled as my palm crushed his air pipe. He brought his hands up and tried prying my fingers away from his neck, his knuckles turning white.
“Itssaarrrjkk!” he spluttered, foaming from the mouth.
I bared my teeth with a feral snarl. I wanted to scare him to death. To make sure he knew the next time he took a jab at Texas, he would be in a world of hurt.
“Work on your material, funny guy.”
“She doesn’t even care!” His eyes were bugging out as I put more pressure on his throat. I felt the delicate bones in his neck snapping as I pressed harder into them.
“Well, I do,” I said quietly.
I could kill him. I knew that. I’d been aware of my ability to kill people for a while now. He wouldn’t even be the first person who’d ended up in a body bag because of me.
But that was a secret I wasn’t in a particular hurry to share with the world.
I got in his face. “I dare you to disrespect her again, Reign. I will break you into miniscule pieces then flush you down the toilet. A part of me half-wishes you’d be dumb enough to pick on her, just so I could finally end you.”
“Bro, you’re choking him,” someone murmured to my left.
“He is turning purple!” This came from my right.
“Quick, somebody do something!”
The cries bounced all around me but never slipped under my skin. I watched as he turned colors, as his flailing subsided under my hands, as the realization he might not walk out of this alive crossed his face.
A few pairs of hands pulled me by the back of my shirt. East, Grayson, and Bradley plastered me against the opposite wall, away from Reign. I shot East a murderous look and shoved him away, launching myself at Reign again.
East pushed me back harder. “You almost choked him to death. What’s wrong with you, man?” East panted, pinning me to the wall by my shoulders.
I threw a cool glance at Reign. He was slouched on the floor, gasping for air, and rubbing his neck, which was dark purple, a noose-like stain forming around his Adam’s apple.
The crowd around us thickened, the buzzing of murmurs filling my ears. Texas stood at the back, clutching the straps of her phoenix backpack.
She looked at me like I was a traitor.
I was fed up.
With her.
With my family.
With the world.
I spun on my heel, marching in the opposite direction. She wasn’t worth the trouble. I’d done as best as I could to help her out, but I was officially done. I couldn’t afford a friend like Grace Shaw, even if I was interested in her company.
Which, for the record, I wasn’t. Not anymore.
Too much drama. No, thank you.
I tramped my way into Addams’ class. A part of me was sure Texas was going to run after me. Thank me. Apologize for being unreasonable.
Beg and cower like everyone else did.
Seek my unattainable affections.
When I was at the door, I glanced up at the hallway, expecting to see her face again.
She was gone.
“Whatcha thinking?” Reign nudged my shoulder with his foot later that evening. He plopped beside me by the kidney-shaped pool, taking a drag from his joint, the smoke rushing out of his nostrils in two thick streams.
Guess it was his version of an apology for what had happened in the hallway this morning.
I took a pull of my beer, dangling my feet in the lukewarm water. One look at his neck and I knew I had to own up for my part of the shit show, too.
Yes, he was an asshole, but I’d also almost killed him today. For a girl who didn’t even want to be saved.
Damn you, Texas.
“I’m thinking I have really hairy toes,” I said honestly, staring at my narrow, long feet.
Reign’s shoulders trembled with laughter. He shook his head, kicking my foot with his in the water. “Whoa, man. You do.”
There was a beat of silence. I was still seeing red every time I thought about him picking on Texas. I wasn’t even sure why. She’d already established we weren’t friends, and I’d told myself I wouldn’t touch her.
It wasn’t the first time Reign was being a yeast-infected dick to other people, but it was definitely the most persistent he had been.
“I wish I could get away with being like you.” He drew circles in the water with his toes, which, I noticed, could use a trim, too. “You’re the strong, silent type. You don’t have to run your mouth to get noticed. I need to entertain. People expect me to talk shit.”
“If this is you making an excuse for today, you better turn around and walk away before I drown your ass.” I took another pull of my beer.
We were at a birthday pool party East had dragged me to. The birthday girl, who lived just outside Sheridan, had begged us to come, both on her face and to her party. Oil lord daddy. Parents out of town. It was a frat party on steroids. Everybody brought inflatable toys and danced poolside. Music blasted through a surround system that made the earth quake. There were ice bars and shot luges.
The birthday girl swaggered around in a pink and white bikini, high heels, and a Sweet Twenty-One sash. I’d come here to get rid of some of the stress with a quick lay, but as soon as my ass went past the iron-wrought gate, I realized I’d rather sit by the pool and glare at my hairy toes than pound into some nameless, faceless chick who’d whine about it later.
The cons outweighed the pros when it came to hooking up these days.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I did this to Goldilocks?” Reign asked.
When he gathered an answer wasn’t in the cards for him, he soldiered on.
“I did it because I knew you like Toastie. Hell, my dog knows you like Toastie, and he lives in Indiana. That’s why you went for Melanie, right? She basically looks like Toastie from behind.”
<
br /> If he called her Toastie one more time, I was going to hammer him so deep into the ground he was going to reappear in China.
“Long, blonde hair. Cute, round ass.” He counted their similarities on his fingers. “You’re pretty transparent, St. Claire. Guess I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine.”
I sipped my beer. He was high if he thought I liked Texas. She was unbearable, other than the few times she’d made me laugh.
East plopped down to my other side, plucking the joint from between Reign’s fingers.
“Are we having a heart-to-heart? Reign, are you finally coming out?” East beamed at Reign, who slapped the back of his head, laughing.
“I was just telling him I teased Toastie because he screwed Tess.”
“Seriously?” I raised my fists to his face. Reign cowered, hunching his back with a wince.
“Shit, sorry. Old habits die hard.”
“You’ll die easily if you keep this shit up.”
“Aw, I hate it when Mommy and Daddy fight.” East took a drag, passing it back to De La Salle. “Seriously, though. That Toastie nonsense was so third grade of you, Reign. Taunt her ass one more time and I’ll personally make sure Coach knows. He’ll dump your ass faster than a shit after a laxative party.”
“I already told West I’m done messing with her,” Reign sulked. “My bad, okay? I’m going through a rough patch here.”
“So, Westie knows you’re into Tess?”
“He does now. Thanks for the spoiler.” Reign rolled his eyes.
Was that what it was about? Fucking Tess Davis?
“You’re welcome to Tess.” I finished my drink just as a freshman leaned down toward us, her tits spilling over our faces through her Baywatch Red swimsuit, offering us a tray full of shots. East took three, distributing them between us.
“Nothing’s standing in your way. Other than your ugly-ass face and shit-for-brains,” I encouraged Reign in my own backwards way.
Reign shook his head.
“It’s not so simple now. I wish you wouldn’t have broken the bro code.”
We clinked glasses and downed the tequila shots. I didn’t remember Reign saying anything about wanting Tess, but I believed him, because I normally wasn’t paying much attention to anything anyone said. And for the record—Reign had screwed about sixty percent of the campus population this month alone, so declaring what he had for Tess was love was pretty much on par with this Melanie chick getting butthurt when she found out I hadn’t printed out our wedding invitations.
“Why’s that?” East asked Reign.
“She’s into his sorry ass now.” Reign jerked his chin my way.
“Well, my sorry ass is not into anyone, so that’s not gonna be an issue.”
“You wanna tell me you’re really not into Taco Truck Girl?” East poked at my rib. Someone cannonballed into the pool, splashing us. A girl. She tugged at our toes underwater playfully before slicing the surface, popping up like a slutty nymph. Reign splashed her back. In love, my ass. He wouldn’t know love if it gave him a golden shower and totaled his Alfa Romeo, hurling it off a bridge.
East and I were still locked in conversation.
“Her name’s Grace,” I said curtly, because somehow it was important for me that these bastards stop referring to her by her scar or her job. “And no, I don’t want her.”
Especially after she froze me out at the food truck during our last shift and snubbed me in front of the entire school when I’d stuck my neck out for her.
East considered this.
“It’s just that you haven’t been your want-to-die-now-someone-hand-me-the-gun self since …”
“Since?” I prompted.
“Since you met her.”
My best friend was such a pussy I wanted to shut him up with a can of Friskies. I chuckled throatily. That was a good one. Me. A changed man. Because of a girl.
“For the last time, I’ve no interest in Grace Shaw.”
“For real?”
More girls dove down to tickle our feet, trying to draw our attention. We ignored them.
“How many more times can I fucking say this?” I glowered at my best friend. “I can express it in a tribal dance, or Morse code, or maybe kicking your ass.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I ask her out, then?” East studied me carefully. I felt my jaw twitch. Out of all the chicks at Sher U, he wanted to fuck the one I was working with. I noticed Reign stopped splashing the girl in the pool, watching for my reaction.
I hitched a shoulder up. “Go ham. Don’t forget to put a rubber on it. She seems like the type to lock you into marriage with a baby.”
What did it matter? Texas wasn’t going to go out with him if he were the only man left on planet Earth. She was probably a virgin. She didn’t date, and she was wary of the football crew. Especially after Reign exhibited the manners of a fried chicken wing when it came down to her.
“So, let me get this straight.” Reign grinned, enjoying the discussion immensely. “You’d kill anyone who disrespects her, but you won’t date her?”
I plopped down into the pool, splashing water over my face.
“That’s a good boy. Want your cookie now?” I snarled.
“Seems legit,” Reign said sarcastically.
East joined me in the pool. I was done with discussing Grace Shaw. She’d hogged enough of my time, my life, my thoughts.
“So, Max says Appleton is talking mad shit about you.” East squinted under the sun. That was news to me. Then again, I hardly kept tabs on what people said.
“He would do this to my face, but then he wouldn’t have teeth to talk smack about me with.”
“I bet Max is gonna try to arrange a second fight.” Reign joined us, dipping inside the pool and coming out of the water, shaking his head like a dog. “Would you go for a rematch if it’s on the table?”
“No way,” East warned, flashing me a look.
“For the right price, I would kill Appleton, his meathead manager, and Max himself.”
Both my friends laughed.
I did, too.
What they didn’t know was I wasn’t even kidding.
Grace
They say when it rains, it pours.
In my case, my week had been a thunderstorm wrapped inside a tornado.
It ripped away everything in my life, and all I could do was watch it swirling in the wind as I fell into the deep, dark depths of my own personal catastrophe.
“Honey pie, I’m so sorry. I know it’s the worst timing possible for you, but please consider this my official resignation.” Marla sat me down at the end of the week.
I was running on fumes at this point. West and I hadn’t been talking at all during our shifts, Grams had gone on an odd hunger strike, still mad about the CT scan that never happened, and college life was a disaster of hushed whispers and sympathetic glances ever since West St. Claire had pretty much declared I was under his protection.
Everyone knew West and I weren’t chummy, so they conveniently deducted he was feeling sorry for Toastie, his newest colleague, and wanted to make sure she didn’t off herself.
He’s the one who hates life, I wanted to scream in their faces. He’s the one who wants to die. Not me. I just want to be left alone.
“You’re quittin’?” I blinked at Marla, trying to keep my tone neutral. Marla nodded, gathering my hands in her oily, swollen palms and bringing them to her lips.
“Retiring. Movin’ away. Pete found a great condo in Florida, just outside Miami. Real nice and fancy, and so cheap for what we’re getting. We’ll be close to Joanne, my daughter, and her little stinkers. It’s been a long time coming. I ain’t a kid anymore. I want to enjoy my grandchildren, and go on walks, and get fat with my husband.”
Nothing about what she said was news to me. Still, I was irrationally upset. Not with Marla, of course. I could hardly blame her for wanting to better her own situation. But with the world. I depended on Marla, who at this point became more
like family and less like an employee. She always put in extra hours and was on call twenty-four seven. Grams got along with her most of the time, and Marl never took any of her bullshit. Finding someone else was going to be a struggle. Marla was a Sheridan local, but not many people wanted to commute into my small town for work, and those who were willing to demanded to be financially compensated accordingly.
Even though I had some money put aside for medical bills for Grams, and her 401k payments kept us comfortable, I wasn’t exactly in tall cotton.
“Oh, Marla, that’s wonderful.” I stood up, swallowing down my panic, tugging her into a hug. I relished the small, bittersweet moment in her arms, feeling the pinch of pain behind my eyes. “You deserve it. You worked hard for so many years. I’m so happy for you and Pete.”
She reared her head back, patting my cheeks to make sure they were dry. I winced when she touched the scar tissue. It still felt raw. The skin was thinner than on my right, healthy side.
“Don’t worry, Gracie-Mae. I’m giving you a two-month notice. Plenty of time to find a replacement.”
I let out a breath. Two months was a good amount of time.
“Thanks. I’ll start searchin’ right away.”
“Although, you know where I stand in terms of what should happen next.” Her mouth twitched, like she was fighting back the words that wanted to tumble out of her mouth.
“I know. Especially with the hunger strike.” I bristled. Marla laughed.
“Yeah. ’Bout that. She’s been slipping cracklins into her room when she thinks I ain’t looking. And, well”—her laughter pitched higher—“I pretend not to look so she’ll eat.”
Shaking my head, I let out a relieved chuckle. “She’s impossible. What am I going to do with her?”
“Send her to her home!” Marla snorted. “She’ll thank you.”
Sensing a big, juicy moment, Grams crept into the kitchen in her calico housedress and bunny slippers.
“What’s all this fuss about?” She went straight for the utensil drawer, trying to yank it open. It didn’t budge. I’d installed magnets on every drawer that contained anything that could be used as a weapon earlier that week, the stuff you used when you had toddlers. I couldn’t take my chances. Not after the stove incident.