“I fucking missed you,” Scarlett says between moans, “Fuck me.”
When I watch women enjoy me fucking them, I like to think it’s a painting. Each woman I paint with my brush. The strokes are either slow or rough. I either take my time applying the paint, creating a clear picture like Van Gogh or I could just attack it like Jackson Pollock. No clear picture—only paint dropped, poured, or thrown onto the canvas creating something wild and intoxicating. Pollock is usually my favorite. People thought his work was rushed. I personally think it was unsubtle and well cultivated. He saw the picture beneath the drips of paint. Just like I see the art of Scarlett.
7
JULIET
“Well, looky here,” Jordana says. I turn around in my chair and see Scarlett with her hair down in a white men’s dress shirt—I’m assuming Hugo’s white shirt—and light blue flannel bottoms—Hugo’s—on. Hugo’s right behind her with bed hair, a white tank, and a similar looking pair of light blue flannel bottoms. Scarlett has this bright annoying smile plastered on her annoyingly gorgeous face.
I haven’t been jealous of someone since I was maybe, what? Fourteen? Fifteen? This is not cool. This isn’t even bloody normal. I’ve only been in this fucking country for two days and yet already I fancy someone to a point of offbeat feelings.
They join us for breakfast, both of them taking a seat across from Cody, August, and me.
“I see we have not trailed far from raging waters,” Ms. Eleanor says before rising up from her seat. “I must depart now. Enjoy the day, my lovelies.”
“Does anyone ever get what she means?” Cody asks after she leaves.
Some of them say no or shake their heads.
“I get the raging water part,” I say boldly. “It can be a violent desire or passion or just pure fury.”
I look at Scarlett who is still smiling, probably impressed with my boldness, while Hugo isn’t of course. At least he doesn’t have his sunglasses on. His lips may not show, but his eyes certainly do.
“And of course with water there is always drowning,” I finish.
Scarlett sighs, still smiling but equally bothered by my comment and sips her mimosa. “So, Juliet,” she addresses me, sitting back. “How are you enjoying Manhattan so far?” She deliberately places her hand on the back of Hugo’s neck, waiting for my answer.
“I’m no stranger to New York, but yes it’s fine.”
She nods, still smirking, still her hand on Hugo’s neck. She’s marking her territory and not just with Hugo but with everyone at this table. Probably the whole damn city.
“I was told after you graduated you went traveling?” I say.
“Yes.”
“Sounds wonderful. Traveling all over. Finding the love of your life. He is the love of your life, right? Or are you participating in the usual blue ruin of marriages?”
I’m very bad right now, but oh well.
Scarlett’s smile only broadens. “Hugo was right… you are a nuisance.”
“I know, my mum always says that it would make it difficult to find me a proper gentlemen to marry as if we’re in 1760.” Even though Hugo is complaining about me to Scarlett I think it says a lot that he’s mentioning me at all.
“Mothers always want what is best for their daughters. My mother taught me that to survive in this world a woman must use what she has.”
“And that’s what you do?”
“Yes, it is.” She leans in, folding her arms over the table. Everyone gets really quiet and I can see that I am about to receive today’s lesson from Mama lion. “I understand life has been good for you. Your parents are all about tradition, probably your mother more than your father who has an open mind and can’t always say no to daddy’s girl. But for some of us here at this table, we have received a different type of parental guidance. We do what we know and what we know is that it’s perfectly normal to have affairs. My fiancé comes from a family like yours so no he wouldn’t be able to accept my certain extracurricular activities, which is why God gave us free will… meaning the choice to keep secrets. Although you take pleasure in questioning others, I do trust that you know how to keep secrets.”
“Of course,” I say calmly and we continue with our stare down. I have to admit; her fiery grey eyes give me chills. Her warning for me to basically keep my mouth shut about her indiscretions.
I’ve known people like Scarlett before. Girls who are careless people who want what they want and don’t care whom they hurt to get it. Cunts. That’s what they are, true cunts. I was one of them.
“I have to go,” Scarlett says, standing up. She looks down at Hugo. “Escort me out.”
HUGO
“Who the fuck does she thinks she is?” Scarlett snaps once we get into the foyer.
“Obviously a brave girl,” I say amused.
“You think this is funny?” she asks sharply.
I roll my eyes. “Scarlett, don’t be sensitive.”
“I am not being sensitive. I am only stating a problem and that is the bitch with the accent.”
“She won’t be a problem.”
“She likes you.”
“I’m aware.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know? You have a new housemate who is practically serving herself on a silver tray. You could easily break her.”
“I would love to break her. Two days of being here, she’s already getting on my nerves, but she’s…” I trail off.
“She’s what?”
“Strange. Quirky, witty, not a dumb ass. Let’s not act like the usual women I go for fit in those selective categories.”
“You know what? I don’t have time for this,” she says putting on her sunglasses. “Get your shit together and have a good day.” She grabs the back of my neck and pulls me down for one last kiss. It’s hard, still carrying the frustration Juliet laid upon her. She walks out and closes the door behind her.
“Women,” I mumble to myself.
“Trouble in paradise?” Of course she’s here. I turn around and see a gloating Juliet standing a few feet behind me.
“What is your deal?” I step towards her. “You don’t know us and yet you judge us.”
“I can’t help that your girlfriend is a self-centered bitch.”
“Self-centered bitch is correct, girlfriend no.”
“Oh yeah I forgot, you don’t do romance or anything remotely nice or normal.”
“Why do you have a problem with my choices in life?”
“I don’t,” she lies.
“Oh, you don’t?” I step closer. “Are you sure about that?”
She takes a few steps back the closer I get. She keeps going until she is between the wall and me.
She observes the situation and whispers, “Well, this surely is throwing me off my game.”
It amazes me that she has no problem admitting when she is uncomfortable which sort of makes me uncomfortable. “You don’t want this game, Juliet. I advise you on it.”
“I thought you liked games.”
“My sins are my sins, Juliet. Know your place and stay out of my business and Scarlett’s too,” I warn her and for a moment my gaze drops to her lips. I wonder what it would be like to kiss her right here and now. I bet her lips are soft. I also bet she’s a biter. I like that. I feel her breath quickening along with mine. There’s that unsettling feeling again. I step back as she watches me. I turn around, walking away.
“Hugo,” I like the way my name sounds coming from her mouth. I turn around. “Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.
“Oscar Wilde.” I say, knowing the origin of the quote.
She smiles to herself. “I have a thing for quotes.”
“Me too.” Then it hits me. “In fact,” I walk back over to her, “why don’t we develop a game out of our mutual admiration for words of wisdom?”
She narrows her eyes at me, not sure. But she has already crossed this
barrier and I’m pretty sure this red riding is stubborn enough to not run away from the big bad wolf.
“What do you propose?” she asks.
“A game for the summer to pass time. If a person gives a quote and the other doesn’t know who originated it, the winner gets to do whatever they want to that person.”
Her brow arches. “You’re implying something sexual.”
“If you want. I’ll even let you give a few rules now if you have concerns.”
“No sex,” she says adamantly. “The winner can do something…” She trails off looking at my body, licking her lips and smiling. “Sexual, but intercourse is not one of them.”
“Fine then,” I agree easily. “The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he has confidence in what is behind him.”
No way she knows that one.
“G.K. Chesterton and let me guess what’s behind you is the ability to stay in a perpetual brooding?”
“Funny,” I deadpan, but I must admit I’m impressed.
“Sometimes you have to pick the gun up to put the gun down.”
Now my brow arches. “You know Malcolm X?”
“Like I said, you’d be amazed… I really loved the film too. That Denzel is superb in everything he plays in, don’t you think?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Oh and by the way, the G.K. Chesterton quote, he didn’t say he had confidence; he said it’s because he loves what is behind him.” She just smiles to herself and walks away.
Fuck me.
JORDANA
I am loving the change in dynamics. Juliet being here is certainly altering our intricate universe. I like her. I don’t like a lot of people, but I like her. Hugo needs someone to challenge him. I care for the cold bastard. He and I have always been close and even though he’s a jackass, he has always looked out for me even if he uses a dumb excuse for doing it. Like the time Scarlett tasked me in seducing the wife of the husband her mother was having an affair with. Don’t ask me why, Scarlett rarely explains why she wants to ruin someone. I was all for it because the wife was hot. Seducing her was easy—it was the not developing feelings for her that was a problem. The woman was a complete saint and it was not a cover. All her philanthropy was out of heart. The only sinning she committed was, well, adultery, but all in all a good person. I wasn’t planning on outing her indiscretions, but that Scarlett she just couldn’t wait. I felt bad and even though she went back to her husband, the damage I had caused bothered me. Hugo saw that. He told me to get over myself. Showed no affection, but then a week later I received a visit from my mother. It was a surprise and a good day. Went to the Met, a poetry reading, and she even took me to a gay nightclub. Yeah, my mom is cool like that. It was what I needed that night and when asking my mom what made her come from her cabin in Blue Ridge where she isolates and writes, she said Poppy called her. Poppy doesn’t do things like that. Not because she doesn’t care, she just doesn’t think about shit. She also can’t keep a secret. So Poppy told me Hugo came to her and more ordered her than requested. He said to call Jordana’s mom and tell her she needs her.
That’s why I don’t care about Hugo’s behavior. He’s an arsehole. That’s not an act. He is definitely an arsehole, but he’s an arsehole that can be… what’s the word? Reclaimed. When I say reclaimed, I mean he can be an someone who has a purpose. Reformed into an arsehole that can truly admit that, although he is an bastard… he is also a person. A person with feelings, cares, hates, and loves. I get it when trying to reclaim someone who portrays themselves as something they’re entirely not.
“Where are you taking that plate of food?” Cody asks me, staring at my plate of waffles and eggs and bacon.
“To my room, you mind?”
He shrugs, not putting any more thought into it. I head to my room where my guest is waiting for me.
I always have to refrain myself from smiling when I look at her. Scarlett taught me to never show them we care. I guess Hugo isn’t the only one who needs to be reclaimed.
“Hi,” I say to Margaret who is naked in my bed, holding onto the pillow where I had laid my head last night. She missed me. I know she did even if she doesn’t.
“Hey,” she softly says. The corners of her lips turn up. “What’s that?”
“I brought you breakfast.” I set the plate in front of her and get back into bed in my silk black robe.
“Thank you,” she says, her brow scrunched up as she stares at the plate. She’s shocked at my gesture.
“I’m not a total bitch, MJ.”
She sighs and looks at me with guilt. “No… you’re not. That’s my thing. Again, I’m so sorry I showed up like that and said those rude things to you.”
“It’s alright. You made up for it last night.” I comb my fingers through her light brown hair. Her hair feels so smooth and soft and it always smells of mango and strawberry. Her hazel green eyes peer up at me as she feeds herself eggs. Every time she looks at me, my breath gets taken away. See cheesy shit like that is what happens when you have feelings.
“I should get ready to go.” She says after eating everything, setting the plate off to the side. “My father has this thing he wants me to go to.” She stares down at her lap.
“You mean he wants you to make an appearance with your boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” She frowns, but doesn’t look at me.
“Oh, just like you’re not into girls?”
She smacks her lips and shakes her head. “This is just… a thing.”
“A thing,” I let out a huff. “Oh, don’t be so stereotypical.”
“Paul and I are just good friends who used to date and you and I-”
“Are just fucking,” I say to her straight, no emotion, no care in the world… at least I think. I’m not as good as Hugo. I never can seem to mirror myself when it comes to her. I just hope that I’m being badass, not wearing my emotions on my sleeve.
She seems hurt by my finishing statement, though. She looks at me, her eyes showing concern and disbelief. “Do you really not have any emotion?”
“Do you really not accidentally call me sometimes and hang up?” Her eyes still. I smirk, leaning in and press my lips against hers. Wasting no time deepening it, tasting everything she has to offer, which is not a lot. All she offers me is moments. A brief period of pleasure and even romance.
Now the moments over. She stops the kiss and gets out of my bed, throwing back on the sweats she came over in. I feel the loss. It’s always there when she leaves.
I’ll see you around,” I say as she throws her hood over her head and opens my door. She looks back at me and her eyes say it all. She’s just not strong enough to let what’s in them out.
Stay. Choose me. Stay. It’s okay. Choose me. Stay.
Those are the words that are on the tip of my tongue. Always. But I never let them fall out of my mouth. So, I guess you can say neither of us is strong. She leaves and I can finally breathe. I hate feelings.
“You know she’s not very bright when it comes to being discrete when leaving out.” Juliet laughs a little, leaning on my doorframe.
“I think she knows everyone here is aware. I think oddly she trusts they won’t say anything.” I light up a cigarette.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Is that what we’re doing? Being besties and talking about our unrequited romances,” I rudely say to her.
“I don’t have one of those and being a bitch is not going to make me go away.” She hops on my bed and crosses her legs in front of me.
“You do have that. That’s quite clear, especially with this morning.”
“I was only testing her.”
“I think you were testing yourself.” I exhale the smoke, my eyes narrowed on hers. She averts them. “So tell me. What is it about you that makes you want to save Hugo from Scarlett’s clutches?”
“Oh, please.” She rolls her eyes. “I hardly know the bastard.”
“Okay, how about t
his. I tell you the truth about me and you tell me the truth about you.”
She smirks, “Okay.”
I think, no… I know I’m doing this because I have been dying to confess and Juliet is the perfect candidate for a therapist. My last one cost too fucking much and she didn’t help one bit.
“I…” I hold up my finger. “If you mutter this to anyone, I will have to kill you.”
She holds up her hands in agreement. I take one last deep breath.
“I… am in love with Margaret Jacobs.”
Her eyes squint. “I thought you didn’t do love?”
“That bullshit is only Hugo and Scarlett. I truly believe in love. I saw it with my parents and no matter how many affairs they both had, it was as if when they are around each other, you could truly feel the depths of that love. My mom forgave my dad for all his indiscretions because she loved him and he loved her. They fool around because they just can’t get enough of each other. They insult each other profusely, but it’s as if they are better now than when they were married. Same amount of fights but it’s easy for them to make up now. But yes I do love her. I figured it out the second time we hooked up.” My face scrunches up. “I watched her sleep like an idiot. I was so disgusted with myself. I mean Margaret Jacobs—of all the bi-curious debutantes, I had to fall for the most uptight, shallow, self-centered, and morbidly insecure one.”
“Um, I think that’s the demographic for most debutantes.”
“Hmph, point taken.” We both laugh.
“Why don’t you just tell her that?” Juliet insists and I look at her like she’s grown two heads.
“Are you serious? And let my heart get broken? No.” I shake my head and ash out the cigarette in the gold ashtray on my nightstand. “Margaret will always do what daddy wants and I don’t have time for it. I will not give her the satisfaction of making a complete fool of myself over her.”
“But you will reduce to letting her make a complete fool out of herself over you?”
I shrug. “We hurt the ones we love before they get to hurt us first.”
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