by Zoey Long
“Thanks,” she says, looking back at me to flash me a smile.
We stand next to each other as the doors close. I reach next to her and press the button to go to the sixth floor. She smiles. Doesn’t move. I guess we’re going to the same floor.
“Hey,” she says, turning to look at me.
“Hi, good morning,” I answer.
“Good morning. You’re Derrick, right?” she says. Bigger smile.
That’s a surprise. I really don’t think I’ve ever seen this girl before.
“Y…yes. I’m sorry, do I know you?” I ask, trying not to sound rude.
If this were a year ago, I’d be wracking my brain right now. Diligently going through my mental rolodex, trying to remember if I’ve had sex with this girl before or not. Did we meet at a club one night, get hammered and fuck in a bathroom? Or did I take her back to my apartment and fuck her there? Maybe I did take her back to my apartment and ask her to get on the floor of my bedroom on her hands and knees before I started to slam her relentlessly from behind, wrapping that gorgeous, long, thick hair twice or even three times around my fist and pulling? Totally possible. Did she scream and come all over the place, sweat rolling down her back, and did she give me her number the next morning and ask me to call her, but I never called her again? Do I even remember her name? No, probably not. At least I know I don’t have to worry that that’s the case anymore.
“Nope, you don’t,” she says, laughing a little. “We’ve just been in the same class for the last month.”
“Oh. Sorry,” I say to her again. “Hi.”
It’s a lecture. How does she know who I am specifically? There’s, like, one hundred people in this class.
We both get off on the sixth floor, I let her get out before me and I open the door to the lecture hall. We both head in. Guess she’s late too.
“I’m Andy,” she says quietly. “And I sit over there.”
She points to the seat directly across from mine. This hot chick has been sitting across from me twice a week for the last month, directly in my eye line, and I never noticed her once. Huh, imagine that.
“Oh. Nice to meet you, Andy.” I shake her hand.
She flashes me a huge smile and squeezes my palm. Nice smile. Then she takes a seat and starts whispering to her friend. It’s another girl; she has curly hair piled on top of her head and thick-rimmed hipster glasses. Haven’t seen that girl before either. They’re whispering still. The curly-haired girl keeps looking over at me, nodding and whispering again. Or maybe I’m just paranoid.
I take my seat and immediately check my watch. I’m thinking about when I can leave to meet Madison for lunch. I miss her.
Chapter 3: Madison
When I left the library this morning I felt crazed. I kept looking all around me like a hawk. I kept thinking Noel might be hiding somewhere, waiting for the exact right moment to come out and make a scene. I didn’t see him anywhere. Just some familiar faces and smiles, mostly strangers. Now I’m sitting in Derrick’s and my silly hipster cafe, our special place, sipping a carrot-ginger juice. Derrick is going to make so much fun of me when he shows up. I’m sure of it, but it was all I thought I could keep down right now. Just sip through the straw and try not to look over your shoulder every thirty seconds like a crazy person. Sip. Sip.
“Seriously?”
Derrick walks in, comes over to me and immediately points down at my drink, giving me that classic smirk that still sends my senses reeling. In the good way. I blush and laugh.
“It’s all I could stomach right now, Derrick.”
Derrick picks up my glass, sniffs it and recoils.
“Ugh. I couldn’t stomach that even if I was feeling great. That’s disgusting. What is that?”
“For someone who works out as much as you do, you’re not very familiar with common vegetable juice combinations,” I tease.
“I’d prefer to keep it that way, thank you very much. I love vegetables. Just not through a straw.”
He winks at me.
“It’s carrot-ginger, if you’re still wondering. Want to try it?”
Derrick sits down next to me and takes my hand.
“Nope,” he says, smiling.
I snatch my hand back, a reflex. Derrick rolls his eyes and puts his hands in his lap. Lets out a sigh of frustration.
“We’re not back here again, are we?” he asks me.
I lower my voice to a whisper.
“Back where? Give me a break, Derrick. Not three hours ago, the only person who is single-mindedly invested in blowing our cover saw you with your head between my legs.”
His eyes light up because I mentioned sex.
“I’m serious,” I say. “You know I love you. You know I love fucking you.”
“Do you love fucking him? Really? Because I could have sworn you loved fucking me too.”
Noel appears behind me. He must have come out of the restroom. Or been hiding here since he saw us this morning. That freak.
Derrick stands up to defend me. It’s almost comical how he towers over Noel’s skinny frame. People in the cafe are looking over at us over their shoulders, from behind their lattes and laptop screens. We must go to school with more than half of the people in here.
“What did I tell you about keeping your mouth shut, Noel?” Derrick booms.
“Hey, man, you don’t scare me. You won’t hit me. Not here. Not where everyone can see you. Now, Madison, tell me again, how much do you love fucking him? Your brother? He is your brother, right? The same guy I saw fucking you—”
Derrick punches Noel square in the jaw, sending him reeling backward. He falls onto the hardwood floor. I know he was holding back, but Noel didn’t expect it and lost his footing. Derrick tries to help Noel back up.
“Don’t touch me, you son of a bitch,” Noel yells, spitting blood.
The barista, wearing a charcoal T-shirt with a cartoon dinosaur on it, comes out from behind the distressed wooden counter.
“I’m going to have to ask all three of you to leave,” he says. Noel stands up on his own, holding his face. There’s a crowd of people around us. Everyone in the cafe is staring.
“You’re going to be so sorry you did that, rich boy.” Noel scowls.
Derrick gets close to Noel’s face. “Which is it, Noel? Am I a sister-fucker or a rich boy?” he says, in a low whisper. “Be honest: which do you hate me for more? I think you’re mad I stole your girl. That’s what I think.”
I think Noel might throw a punch of his own, but he doesn’t. He just stares at Derrick, stone-faced.
My face colors, and my eyes wander to the countless faces in the cafe, all staring at the three of us. Some I’ve seen around campus; others I don’t recognize, but I’m sure they’re students. Their eyes are narrowed. How many of them will be spreading rumors all around campus the minute they leave this place?
“Derrick, let’s get out of here,” I say to him.
“Please.” I urge him to go, taking his hand and tugging on it.
“Yeah, go off with your stepbrother. That’s a great idea, Madison. I should have known you were going to do this. You couldn’t stop talking about this asshole from the moment we met. I must be a real idiot.”
Derrick shakes his head and puts his arm around me and we walk out of the cafe. We walk for about a block when I feel the anger start to rise up in my throat. There’s still a lot of people around us. I don’t want to do it here. Once we turn the corner onto a side street, though, I turn to face him.
“I can’t believe you hit him,” I say bluntly, shaking my head.
Derrick stops and looks at me, confused.
“I just…I can’t believe you punched him like that.”
“Babe, what the hell was I supposed to do?” he asks me.
“I don’t know. You didn’t have to lay him out on the ground in front of everyone. Do you know how many people will be talking about that tomorrow? Are probably talking ab
out it right now as we speak? You punched him to the floor; I’m surprised he didn’t get knocked out cold.”
“Madison, there’s only so many times I can be insulted before—”
“Before you resort to violence? That’s good to know.”
My hands are on my hips and my heart is pounding. I’ve never seen Derrick hit anyone outside of the ring before. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone get punched like that, period. I’m overwhelmed by how it happened, by how many people saw Derrick defend me, saw Noel hit the ground bleeding. Derrick looks at me wide-eyed and steps back. He moves to defend himself.
“That’s not fair. I don’t throw punches lightly. He’s been doing his best to press my buttons for a long time now. You know that. He’s done everything he can think of to set us both off. Did you hear what he was saying? No one has the right to say that to you. To us.”
With that, my eyes well up with tears.
“Did you see how many people were watching?” I ask him. “We can’t go back there. You know we can’t.”
“I did see, yes. Honestly, who cares what a bunch of people say?”
“I do!” I yell.
“They have the power to make our lives hell. To make our school life hell, for it to get back to our parents. What the hell would we do then? A lot has happened in just one day, Derrick. Give me a break. How the fuck are you so calm?”
A couple walks past us, arm in arm. They try not to make eye contact, slipping between Derrick and me where we’re standing on the sidewalk. I look down, try to hide the fact that I’m crying.
Derrick steps toward me, puts his hand on my cheek. It’s wet with tears.
“You can’t… you can’t even do that right now,” I whisper. “You can’t touch me like that here. In public. We can’t be a couple.”
Derrick looks into my eyes, holding my gaze.
“We are a couple. Whether you like it or not, that’s what we are. Do you want to stop seeing each other? Honestly, I don’t think either of us could stop seeing each other if we tried. What do you think?”
“I did try!” I say, laughing through my tears.
“I tried not to focus on you, not to fall for you. And that’s when I started seeing Noel.”
We both laugh. We start laughing almost uncontrollably. My chest is shaking with laughter.
“We see how well that went,” Derrick jokes.
I take a deep breath.
“Oh, man,” I say, smiling. “What a mess.”
Derrick takes my hand and holds it. We swing our arms back and forth, playfully. We’re both smiling now, in spite of the mess we’re in.
I know I don’t want to stop seeing him. That I can’t control my desire for him, my care for him. He’s the first thing I think of when I wake up, the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep. I dream of his hands all over me—in daydreams, in my night dreams, it doesn’t matter. This morning I couldn’t get to him fast enough.
“So I’ll see you at home?” He winks.
“Yeah. See you at home.”
I move in close to him, look up into his eyes and stand on my tiptoes. I let my lips find his, let him kiss me back on this little side street in downtown Manhattan, close my eyes and imagine for one moment that we’re a regular couple. That this is simply the guy I love, that I’m his girlfriend and no one can say anything about it. The heat of his mouth warms my lips, I press my mouth into his, open it and taste him. He pulls me in close to his body, and before I know it, we’re kissing hard against a brick wall. His hands are cupping my face, moving back through my hair. My eyes are closed tight, the sunlight warming my skin, the air blowing warm with a hint of crispness all around me. The world smells new and exciting at this time of year, like things are possible. And for this one blissful moment, I don’t care who sees us.
“So is it true?” Derrick whispers.
“Is what true?”
“That you couldn’t stop talking about me from the moment you met Noel.”
I roll my eyes with a smile.
“You know it is.”
My palm finds the back of his neck and I pull him into me hard, pressing my lips on his, sending us back into a deep, passionate kiss.
Chapter 4: Derrick
“Hey, man.”
A guy I know from class stops me as I head to the train home. Steve’s a good guy, a big partier. Always inviting me to these loft parties in Brooklyn, but I couldn’t be less interested. Each one is supposedly more awesome than the last. Sure it is. Right. He wanted to know more about my MMA fighting a few weeks ago, so I got him a guest pass to the studio. He works out on his own, he says, mostly running.
“Hey, Steve. What’s up?”
“Not much. You headed to the gym?”
“Not today. Heading home.”
“Cool, cool. I’m heading your way, I think.” He smiles at me, smirks, even.
“Listen, Derrick, this weekend I’m hosting a party. It’s called Omega, if you’re interested. I can send you an invite.”
“Mm hmm. Thanks. Not sure what I’m doing this weekend yet, though. Probably won’t be around,”
I say. What I mean is I’ll be in Madison and that’s way better than any party in Williamsburg.
He laughs.
“You really should come to one of my parties. You’d like it. Hot girls, good booze. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”
I can have hot girls and good booze at my house anytime I want, without a cover or annoying people I don’t want to spend time with. He doesn’t need to know that, though.
Steve follows me down into the subway station. I can hear the noise of the train arriving as we advance down the stairs. We both rush. I get to the bottom of the stairs first, hold the door open for him as he sprints through it.
“So, tell me. How have you been?” Steve asks.
“How’s your hand?”
Oh, Jesus.
“What?”
“I heard about what happened today. You punched Noel Prejean. Square in the fucking jaw. Heard it from like four people today already. Not that he probably didn’t deserve it. That guy is awful. But you laid his ass out right in the middle of Parker’s Cafe. I wasn’t there, but I heard he was spewing some crazy shit. He probably deserved it, man.”
“Yeah, I know what I did, Steve. Why are you bringing it up now?”
“Sorry, it’s just… was he saying that you’re fucking Madison Dale? No disrespect, but she’s your stepsister, isn’t she? That’s ridiculous, man. Where’d he even come up with that? You guys hang out a lot, so what?”
He pauses.
“You know what though? No disrespect, like I said, but, I absolutely would get it if you were fucking her. No offense. She’s hot. Perfect shape, curves in all the right places if you don’t mind my saying so. I don’t know what she was doing with that loser Noel anyway. She was with him, right? That’s why he’s so upset? He doesn’t deserve a hot-as-fuck chick like that. And you live with her? Oh, man. Showers and everything.”
Steve looks off into the distance, like he’s envisioning the exact curve of Madison’s firm ass.
“Steve, can you shut the fuck up right now?” I snap at him.
“Huh? Oh. Sorry. Listen, I’m really sorry, man. She’s your sister. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t have any sisters, but if I did, I’d lay out anyone who—”
“She’s not my sister.”
“Aha. Dude, if you are fucking her, you can tell me.”
I grab the subway pole so I don’t punch out two guys today.
“Dude, are you?”
His eyes are lit up. He thinks I’m going to confide in him. Fat chance. I don’t say anything. I’m too pissed to move.
“Never mind. Don’t answer that. Not my business. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall in that cafe, though.”
He laughs.
“I wonder what set him off. I can’t imagine living with her
or even sitting next to her like you were and not checking her out. Seriously, no judgment if you did. I totally get it.”
The train comes to a stop and the son of a bitch is getting off. Thank God.
“I’ll catch you later. I’ll send you that invite.” He smiles and winks at me. I cannot tell Madison about this. She will just freak out all over again. I can handle all of these fuckers. Maybe I will hit the gym. Maybe that’s exactly what I need.
I rush by the check-in desk, take the stairs two at a time to the locker room. Once I’m in my gear, I am so pumped to fight that I don’t care who they throw at me.
“Have you ever thought about doing this professionally?” one of the instructors asks me when the fight is over and I’m done annihilating my opponent, as usual. I’m dripping with sweat, and the usual gaggle of girls is standing around to watch the fight. The other guy shook my hand and left limping. I wipe my face with a towel and take a long swig of water.
“What do you mean, fight for money?”
“Nah, not necessarily that. Your technique is spot-on. Have you ever thought about becoming an instructor? You still have a lot to learn—everyone can always learn more, but I think you’d be a great resource for new fighters.”
I’ve never had the desire to teach. But I am finishing up my degree. Having my own studio, run the way I want it run, is an interesting idea.
“I’m a pretty new fighter,” I tell him.
“I know, but you’re dedicated. I see you in here almost every day. You should give some thought to doing something with this. You’re talented. It’s rare that I see a fighter like you come along.”