Under the Influence

by L. B. Simmons

  She holds my gaze and her eyes begin to glisten before she quietly states, “Of course you don’t, and that’s why I love you.” After a deep intake of air, she wipes the outer corner of her eye then smiles widely before adding, “Plus, I already paid for it while you were comatose, hooker.”

  I shake my head, but grin as I hold the dress in front of me for better inspection. The top of the dress is a blue acetate bodice covered in navy Chantilly lace, joined with the solid navy satin sheath bottom by a black velvet banded waistline. The v-neckline and v-back are connected at the shoulders with three black velvet bands that match the ones lining my waist. It’s exquisite. And it’s also retro 1950’s.

  Therefore, it’s absolutely perfect.

  My smile widens as I meet Cassie’s eyes.

  “I know,” she states with confidence. “You don’t have to tell me.” She glances down at my feet. “And I have the perfect heels to go with it.” Resolute, she nods her head and drapes her arm over my shoulder.

  “Now let’s go make you Ms. Monroe.”

  Five hours later, I’m still staring at the dress, but this time it’s in the reflection of my mirror. My nerves are at an all-time high and although I’m about to go on my first date ever, I’m still hung up on the last words Dalton wrote this morning.

  A loud clap next to my ear jars me from my musing. Cassie glares at me over my shoulder in the mirror. Scandalously clad in what has to be the shortest black mini-dress I’ve ever seen, she warns sternly, “Stop thinking.” Her dark six-inch stiletto heel taps the floor.

  My eyes widen, proclaiming my innocence. “What? I’m just looking at the dress.”

  Cassie shakes her head. “No, you’re thinking about something. I don’t like it.” She fluffs her loose curls around her shoulders and smacks her lips at her reflection before bringing her eyes back to me. “That Jase Williams will be here in twenty minutes. We need to get our game faces on and right now, you look like you’ve just lost your best friend. Which I know is not the case because I’m standing right here.”

  I give her another patented fake smile in return and she narrows her eyes. “Something’s going on. What happened?”

  The corners of my mouth descend and I swallow deeply. “Nothing, really. It’s just, well, it’s…” I force myself to gather my composure before continuing. “Dalton pretty much made it abundantly clear that his feelings do not stem past friendship. This morning, I told him about my date and his only response was to,” I pause to add finger quotes, “‘let me get back to my beauty sleep’. Nothing else. I mean, that pretty much solidifies the fact that he doesn’t feel the same way I do, right?”

  Cassie holds my eyes in the mirror briefly, then breaks into laughter. “Have I taught you nothing?” she inquires. When I don’t respond, she quickly schools her features and adds, “No, I suppose I haven’t.”

  Placing her hands on my shoulders, she smiles and her dimples deepen as she chuckles lightly. “He’s pissed. Trust me.”

  When I begin to shake my head, she presses her fingers into my shoulders. “Let’s not focus on Dalton right now. Instead, let’s focus on the fact that you are about to go on a date with that Jase Williams. If Dalton wants to play games, he can do so while you are getting a proper dating education by moi.”

  I snicker sarcastically. As much as I love Cassie, something tells me I should definitely steer clear of her dating advice. Case in point, her busted-ass plan. Or maybe it’s the number of meaningless sexual encounters she’s had within the last month alone.

  Either way.

  At my laughter, she uses her hold on my shoulders to whip my body around as she forces me to face her. “Look. You are absolutely gorgeous. You have the perfect dress, the perfect shoes, your hair is perfectly tousled and your make-up is perfectly applied. Let’s not waste all of this perfection worrying about Dalton. Let’s use it to our advantage because I know you don’t believe me, but you need to trust me. This plan will work.”

  My mind wanders, pondering her words, and guilt begins to set in. “Don’t you think this is wrong, though? I mean, going on a date with one person just to snag someone else’s attention?”

  Cassie’s lips pucker in thought. “No, I don’t think so.” She lowers her hands to place them on her hips. “That Jase Williams has his own motives I think. When he started showing interest in you, I asked around a bit and I happened upon some very interesting information.”

  My head jerks back in surprise. “What information?”

  She pauses briefly before answering. “Well, it seems that he and Dalton have history. I’m not sure what happened, but there is definitely no love lost between the two of them. I personally believe, while he’s genuinely interested in you, his motivation also lies in giving Dalton a big ‘fuck you’ since everyone within a twenty mile radius knows there will be hell to pay when it comes to dating you. It makes sense since he’s the only one to step up to the plate.”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “So, I wouldn’t feel too guilty. I would just look at it as the opportunity to go out with that Jase Williams and to have fun on an actual date. Stop worrying about all of the underlying circumstances and just go with it.”

  I watch as she grins widely and my guilt is replaced by sudden apprehension. “You don’t think he will try to pressure me, do you? To like, have sex?” My throat constricts just thinking about the possibility. I mean, I’ve kissed boys before, but that’s about it. That was also pre-Dalton Greer, so it’s been a while to say the least.

  Her lips curve into a sympathetic smile before she pulls me into an embrace. Squeezing me tightly, she states, “That is exactly why I’m not going to leave your side tonight. Don’t you worry your pretty little inexperienced head. I am officially on guard-duty and will throat-punch him if he attempts anything other than a friendly handshake.”

  So that’s why she insisted on a double date. It all makes sense now. My throat clogs with unshed tears and I’m forced to swallow them back down. “Thank you, Cass.”

  She squeezes once more in response. Just as I release her, the door to my bedroom opens and my mother enters, donning black yoga pants and a Pink Floyd tank top.

  My Pink Floyd tank top.

  I narrow my eyes and she smiles back at me innocently before taking in my appearance. Her gaze moves along my face, down the length of my dress, and land on the Mary-Jane heels covering my feet. The smile slowly disappears and as she makes her way back up to my face, her chin begins to tremble.

  “Oh, honey. You look…gosh.” She reaches up to wipe the corner of her eye. “Jim would have been so proud to see his little girl transformed into such a beautiful young woman.”

  At the mention of Jim, the tears I tried so hard to squash spring in my eyes. Her husband, my father, James William Locke III, passed away when I was eight-years-old from a sudden heart attack. He was only thirty-two.

  I wish I’d had more time with him because I know he loved me, and that kind of love doesn’t come along often. In times like these, I’m really sad I missed out on it.

  After another swipe along her cheek, she takes the few steps necessary to close the distance between us and folds her arms around my neck, enveloping me in my second embrace of the night. Cassie smiles warmly at me over Mom’s shoulder, only to glance toward my door when the doorbell rings. Her eyes are wide with excitement when she looks back at me and her lips form an enthusiastic grin.

  “Let the games commence.”

  Mom releases me to eye Cassie, but I distract her with a quick kiss on the cheek before announcing, “We’ll be back by ten. Don’t worry.”

  I step away from her and snag my purse off the chair in front of my desk while Cassie jets to my mother to give her a quick hug before exiting my room. Mom follows in her footsteps, but turns and stops in the doorway, twisting back to face me.

  “Do you have your phone?”

  I nod.

  “And it’s on?”

  Internally, I roll my eyes. Outwardly, I smile and ans
wer, “Yes, ma’am.”

  She watches me for a couple more seconds before her face breaks into a satisfied grin. “Good girl. I’ve stocked the freezer with ice cream just for tonight. When you get home, we’ll grab a couple of bowls and you can tell me all about your date.”

  I smile as past ice-cream-filled moments with Mom flood my mind. She winks before finally leaving me alone in my room. Inhaling deeply, I take a step only to turn again and face the mirror for a final once over.

  Hair? Tousled.

  Make-up? Smokey.

  Dress? Extremely fitted.

  Heels? Scary high.

  I smooth my hands over my fluttering stomach in an effort to calm my nerves. As voices from the living room begin to filter into the air around me, I find myself no longer looking at my reflection in the mirror but at the window across the room. Disappointment threatens as I begin to think about Dalton, his whereabouts, and his indifference to my plans this evening. I shake my head in frustration.

  I know he’s lonely.

  I know because I’ve been there.

  I know the need to feel as though you must push everyone around you away in order to keep your secrets safe.

  I know how tiring it can be to always remain on guard, watching, waiting for the monsters from your youth to make their reappearance.

  I guess I just wish he knew that he’s not alone.

  I feel his heartbreak.

  I understand his actions.

  I harbor the same anger.

  The truth is, regardless of the secrets that he keeps, no matter how hard he pushes, I will always remain connected to him in a way that few people can understand.

  But that’s as far as I can allow it to go.

  I need to banish this ridiculous idea that we will ever be more than friends. Which means vetoing this already floundering plan of Cassie’s and just going out with that Jase Williams to go out with that Jase Williams, and for no other reason.

  Laughter from the other room disrupts my thoughts, and I break my stare from the window.

  Closing my eyes, I take another deep breath, then focus on my reflection once again. Determination sets in as I give myself a final internal once over.

  Any and all romantic notions about Dalton Greer?

  Releasing the breath, I give myself a stern look and dip my head in resolve.

  Gone.

  DOUBLE DATE.

  Reading those two words sliced open a gaping wound that I didn’t even realize existed. Panic seized my insides with the realization that she would be with someone else tonight. Her contagious laughter, the sincerity of her smile, the innocence in her eyes …

  All the things I love about her, she will be sharing with someone else. Tonight.

  Bitter anger laces itself around my grief.

  She’s mine.

  For hours, I tried everything I could think of to mute the chanting of those two words in my head. To quiet them with the admission that she needs someone else, someone who knows how to love in the way she deserves, someone far better than me. To silence them with my reality, my lies, my chosen path. But nothing would censor the hum of fury as it continued its whispering, seething as it denied my efforts.

  She’s mine.

  All day long they taunted me.

  Finally I gave up the fight, jumped in my car, and drove until I landed three houses down from hers. I lied to myself the entire way as I mentally repeated that this reconnaissance was nothing more than checking out the situation to make sure she’s safe. Nothing more.

  But being this close to her, I’m suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to sling her over my shoulder, to steal her away and keep her all to myself. And although I do have faith in my ability to keep that desire in check, as I see four people pour out of her front door only to take up residence on her porch, our fucking porch, I find my temper will be far more difficult to contain.

  As my eyes fall onto one of the parties in question, fury begins to flare. “Tha Fuck?”

  The fingers curled around my steering wheel clench by their own volition and I squint my eyes, trying to peer through the darkness as the night sky serves its purpose in concealing my car.

  Cassie, Spencer, Jonathon Hawkins, and a blond guy who I pray isn’t who I think it is, stand together as they continue speaking with Ms. Locke who has also made her way outside.

  My eyes dislodge from the blond guy and fall to Spencer. Once they land on her, I’m unable to focus on anything else. The humming magically ceases and the anger squanders because, in this moment, there is just her.

  I watch the wide smile illuminate her face, almost as bright as the light above her head that highlights her long blonde hair. My gaze drops and I continue to watch as she nervously runs the palms of her hands along the dress hugging her body. I find myself staring at her muscular legs, accented by a pair of high heels, longer than I know I should. I didn’t even know she owned shoes like that. She should wear them more often. But as images of those long legs wrapped around my waist slam into my mind, I quickly amend that thought.

  Shifting in my seat, I watch as she turns her attention and laughs at something blondie must have said, forcing me to refocus on the mission at hand. Leaning to the side, I reach for my glove compartment and lift the handle, grabbing the binoculars that reside inside before slamming it shut. Just as I’m upright, a hand slams against my passenger side window.

  I roll my eyes and shake my head as I straighten back into my seat.

  This is exactly why I’m in charge of our surveillance activities. It’s pretty hard to be stealth when you’ve just pulled up right behind the person you’re trying to scare with your fucking brights on.

  I hit the unlock button before lifting the binoculars into my line of sight to seek out the person of interest. The extremely short fuse of my rage lights once again when I spot him.

  Motherfucker.

  “Got the tacos.” Rat slides into the seat next to me, instigating a warm gust of seasoned ground beef and fresh fried shells upon his entry. “We can’t surveille without Mama Rosa’s. It just wouldn’t be right.”

  I fight the urge to knock him upside the head with a dictionary and keep my focus on the activity in front of me. Rat wordlessly opens the bag and begins rummaging through it as though he hasn’t eaten in four days.

  “Rat,” I whisper, my already non-existent patience waning. “Please, brother.”

  A snicker sounds from the right before I hear foil unwrapping followed by a loud crunch. With his mouth completely full, Rat responds, “They aren’t going to hear us all the way over here, dumbshit.”

  I inhale deeply. “I know. But I need to concentrate, and in order to concentrate, I need you to stop fucking chewing at a decibel that makes my head want to explode.”

  Another laugh followed by a massive swallow. “Decimal? That doesn’t even make sense.”

  Peeling the binoculars away from my eyes, I glare at him and watch as his eyes widen.

  “What?”

  I give no response other than shaking my head before glancing back to Spencer’s porch just in time to watch her lean in and give her mother a hug.

  The binoculars are torn from my hand and I release them willingly. I’ve already gotten the information I need to know. The idea of watching any more already makes my stomach turn, so I’m pretty positive experiencing it at 10X magnification wouldn’t end well.

  For me or my leather upholstery.

  “Double-date,” Rat announces from behind the binoculars, then lifts his free hand to shove the remainder of the taco into his mouth. “Who’s with who?”

  “I’m not sure. Neither one of them have come close enough for me to tell. Cassie’s blocking either of them from getting within three feet of Spencer.”

  Right on cue, Cassie steps in front of Spencer as Motherfucker extends his hand in her direction.

  Good girl, Cass.

  But the relief quickly dissipates as I watch Spencer step right around Cassie and hesitantly slide her hand into
his, leaving Cassie’s mouth to drop open and mine to slam shut. My teeth grind together as I yank the binoculars away from Rat and zoom in right on her face. Spencer’s lips form a tight, feigned smile as she’s led to the BMW coupe parked on the street.

  My hands tighten their grip.

  Something’s going on.

  I don’t know what it is, but I know Spencer, and that look on her face tells me she’s extremely nervous.

  Dipping the binoculars, I readjust the focus. My eyes hone in on their interlaced fingers and remain there until he finally releases his hold only to place his hand on the small of her back to guide her toward the car.

  Motherfucker is touching her.

  Uninvited.

  My jaw tightens like a vise and flames lick the inside of my chest. I force myself to breathe in deeply before asking, “You remember when we busted up Chaz Caldwell’s party last year?”

  “That kid that distributed 50k worth of ‘Caid’s blaze and never paid for it?” Rat laughs. “Yeah, I remember that stupid motherfucker and his party. Everyone was wrecked, man. We did them a favor that night.”

  “Well,” I jerk my chin in the direction of the BMW. “The blond one next to Spencer? That’s Jase Williams. He was there that night, as were most of the kids from my school.”

  Cassie and Jonathon climb into the back seat and I slide my keys into the ignition, my eyes never leaving the car. Fury rises, but it remains contained with the placating promise that I will be releasing it from its confines soon.

  “While I was looking through the rooms for Chaz, I caught him in one of them with a fucking freshman who was putting up one hell of a fight while he was forcing his hands down her pants. One scream from her was all I needed. He missed school for two weeks.”

  After shutting Spencer inside the BMW, Jase rounds the car and deposits himself in the driver’s seat. “She’s not safe with him, especially if this is some form of retribution against me.”

  The lights from the BMW filter into my car, and Rat and I squat in our seats until the car finally passes us going in the opposite direction. When obscured again by darkness, Rat chucks the tacos onto the floorboard and presses himself into sitting position. “Well, what the fuck are we waiting for then?”