The Goode Fight

by Seth King

“Which I like,” I tell him. “Your take-charge stuff, your aggressiveness. You use your strength to defend the weak.”

  He shakes his head. “I’m crazy.”

  “No, you’re deep and complicated, which is sexy. And I think everyone’s a little crazy in their own way- the key to life is hiding your crazy. And you do that as well as anyone.”

  He looks away, unconvinced. “I come on too strong. I’m too much to handle.”

  “Your compliments make me feel prettier than anyone has in my life,” I correct him. “And do you not remember when you met me, and then didn’t text me for days afterward? But enough of this. You’re going to understand how amazing you are soon enough, whether you like it or not. Just tell me the real story, Stellan. Tell me what happened with Caitlin.”

  Suddenly he picks up a rock and flings it off into the distance. A moment of loaded silence follows until it hits the stones on the bank and then skips into the lake, the ripples shattering the perfect sheet of glass that the surface had been seconds before. This is it, I think: our sink or swim moment. Based on what he is about to tell me, we are going to fall off the cliff one way or another; either descend into mad love or go our separate ways forever. But I don’t think I would be able to survive losing him. If he leaves, he can just go ahead and kill me, because I’d be dead anyway. My life wouldn’t be worth living without him, as horrifically pathetic as that sounds.

  “Okay,” he asks hesitantly as he turns to me, “you really want to know everything one day?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even if it terrifies you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even if it makes you run away, screaming and crying?”

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  Who are you, Stellan Goode? I think as I study his silhouette in the moonlight. Monster or human? Savior or destroyer? Is that moonlight going to reveal horns? Fangs? Transform you into a werewolf?

  In any case, it’s time to find out. This is the part of the horror movie where I stop running, turn around, and face my fate. The climax of the Stellan Goode show has come.

  “Okay then,” he says as my blood pounds in my ears, a strange mix of utter excitement and absolute dread shining in his eyes in the dim light. “Why don’t I just tell you now?”

  18

  Stellan Goode

  “We met when I was seventeen,” I begin as the sound of the evening crickets cranks up around us, ramping up the already-tense atmosphere, the frogs hiccupping wetly from the lake doing nothing to calm the terror inside me. We’re sitting on the blanket again, but this time she’s keeping her distance. But still, I realize I’ve never felt more liberated- Taylor finally knows the truth, and instead of abandoning me, she’s embracing me. What is wrong with her?

  “I was a junior, and she was just out of high school,” I continue. “She came up to me after a movie and asked me my name, and we were off, just like that. She was still pretty ‘together’ when we met, but she also had a dark side. She was a little ‘off’ sometimes. I tried to ignore it, though, because at the time I was just an awkward little teenager, and an older girl showing me attention was awesome, you know? Not only did she take my virginity, she introduced me to a whole new world – she liked to read all these kinky novels and had some pretty messed-up sexual tastes. Biting, slapping, choking, all that. But I loved it – the sex was a perfect outlet for my anger issues stemming from James’s death. At the same time I suspected her hobbies probably hinted at deeper issues, and turns out I was right – those issues came out as soon as her parents split up. The divorce got messy and all sorts of allegations came out, and she started going downhill fast. Vodka turned into pills which turned into coke which turned into God knows what else. But I could never bring myself to dump her, because to abandon her during the worst time of her life seemed…I don’t know, just shitty, you know?”

  She nodded, and I swallowed and continued. “So I stayed with her and tried to get her to kick the drugs, but nothing worked. She just kept getting worse and worse, and every time she got high she’d want to have a crazier sex session than the last. Her appetite was too much even for me to handle – she wanted sex at least twice a day, in all different crazy scenarios and positions. She said sex was the only thing that dulled the pain from her family’s problems, and so I did it. ‘Just choke me – they do it in the books,’ she’d say, and I’d listen. Which leads us to the day the bad thing happened.”

  Taylor gulps.

  “It was a really stormy night, just like in the movies – I think we were under a tornado watch or something – and I hadn’t seen her in a couple weeks because she’d been off doing drugs and staying at random peoples’ houses. She’d been texting me the whole time, begging me to meet her at these flop houses and have sex with her, and I was so mad at her I wouldn’t respond. But because of the long absence, I was the horniest I’d ever been – up until I met you, at least. So anyway, she showed up at my place out of the blue, completely strung-out, and I was so ready to have sex that I invited her up.”

  I pause as I realize I haven’t said this many words in one sitting in years. I study Taylor, and her face is strangely impassive. Is she simply taking it all in, or is she too scared to respond? Guess there’s only one way to find out.

  I clear my throat and continue, the freedom of being able to tell this to someone at long last making me speak even more quickly.

  “But the thing is, I hadn’t realized just how fucked up she really was at the time. She pulled out all the stops – she got out all my belts, the handcuffs she kept in the plastic box under my bed, she even pulled the laces off my boots for extra rope. All the while she was rambling in a crazy voice about how the garden gnomes in her yard were after her and all this other weird stuff, and I had no idea what to do. I said no, told her she was too messed up for all the crazy sex stuff and that we should just go to sleep, but she demanded it and threatened to tell her parents I was the one supplying her with all the drugs if I didn’t have sex with her. Which was ridiculous, but hey, at the time it freaked me out. She told me everything she wanted me to do to her – after all, she’s the one who taught me to be like this, to be bad. I tied her up, but she said it wasn’t going to be enough, and she made me get a sock. I told her it was stupid, but she begged, and told me how bad her family had been lately and how much she needed a release. So…I put it in her mouth and she ended up choking on it. You can guess what happened next. It was awful.”

  I close my mouth and inhale through my nose. After I find that I cannot look Taylor in the eye, I look up at the sky, unsure of how to even convey the horror of that night. I want to tell Taylor the other thing, the thing my parents had found out during the trial that had officially exonerated me, but I’m halfway afraid she’d think it was a lie I’d made up to make myself sound innocent. No matter what happened, I still shoulder a lot of the guilt, and nothing will ever change that.

  “Afterward,” I continue after Taylor doesn’t respond, “Caitlin’s parents were actually way more understanding than they should’ve been. One day I sat with them and told them the full story, and they told me they knew she was messed up and fully believed that she would tell me to do those things to her. They were actually surprised she’d even lived that long, and hadn’t overdosed or killed herself before then. The last thing they said before they told me they never wanted to see me again was that they wanted me to get over this, and that they hoped I would let myself love someone again one day.”

  “…Do you think that will happen?” she finally asks, and I can’t tell whether she sounds hopeful or terrified.

  It already is happening, and has been since the day I met you, I think.

  “I don’t know,” I say instead. “Anyway, things got bad in Nashville – my family is sort of prominent, and the media loved the spectacle of the trial – and one day I decided I was done. I moved to Durham where my cousin lived, swore myself to celibacy, started using my middle name, and hoped to escape all that. But as you can imagine, peo
ple just couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t date, and so they made up rumors about my religion and stuff. I kept good on my promise to myself not to date anyone for a while, but it was so lonely. I felt like I’d created a prison for myself, and I’d have to live in it the rest of my life. I hadn’t so much as gone out to ice cream with a girl in over a year…until you came along, that is.” I let out the longest, deepest breath of my life. “You know what? I was always terrified of someone finding out, but now I’m actually sort of…relieved, as crazy as that sounds.”

  I shake my body out a little and relax, but still, the most important thing of all needs to be addressed: whether Taylor is still scared of me. Whether she thinks I’m a murderer or not.

  “You’re awfully quiet. Wanna say something?” I ask her.

  “I need a moment,” she says, and so I nod and look away.

  “Are you scared?” I ask, and she just holds up her hand. After an endless stretch of time she finally clears her throat, turns to me, and says the following: “So. You had a hand in killing someone.”

  Oh no. My mind races to come up with a way to explain myself before she leaves for good. “Yes, I did, but I-”

  “And I forgive you,” she interrupts.

  “And then I- wait, what?”

  “Yes,” she says. “It’s bad, but I don’t think it’s as bad as you’ve made it seem, Stellan. This could’ve happened to anyone – lots of guys have the urge to get rough; it doesn’t mean they should be horrified of themselves because they made a mistake.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. Now that the freedom of sharing my secret is wearing off, I am left with the cold, hard truth that I am still bad news.

  “Stellan,” she continues, “just let go of the burden. It’s time. You know, my mom’s a really smart lady, and she’s always told me to ‘live forwards, but understand backwards.’ Take it as a lesson – just don’t lose control of yourself again, and you won’t…do anything bad as you move forward.”

  “It’s more than that, Taylor,” I tell her. “I’m still dangerous. I was good, but Caitlin made me bad. She changed me. Sometimes when I’m with you, I have very…dark cravings. I want to do things that are…unsafe. You told me that bad and good can coexist in the same person at the same time, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified of the bad in me. I want to be with you – more than I’ve ever wanted anything, actually – but I need to work on myself first. You could be hurt. Or worse. It would be a constant struggle. You turn me on too much for my own good. I could tie you up and strangle you on accident; ravage you too hard and bruise you; accidentally choke you while I’m on top of you. There are a million things that could happen. Every second that passes could be the second I slip up and kill you.”

  She rests her hand on mine. “No. I can deal with the fear. If you’re trying to get me to go off running and screaming, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

  I stare at her incredulously. “Taylor, I just told you I killed someone. How much harder could I try?”

  She simply shakes her head and scoots closer. I don’t know what to say to such reckless stupidity, and so I shake my head and look up at the sky again.

  “God,” she says. “It’s amazing that you’re still sitting here. I’m shocked that all of this hasn’t broken you.”

  “I am broken,” I sigh, and she turns to me.

  “We can be beautiful in the broken places, though.”

  I give up on trying to convince her of my inherent evilness and take a few seconds to admire her gorgeous face. I have a long time to figure out what to do about this, but since she’s sitting here now, I am going to enjoy her. The soft wind is blowing her hair a little, and the glow from the moon is like a halo on her head.

  “I’d like to think so. God, look at you, Taylor. You’re perfect – you look like an angel. A sinful little angel,” I add, “who likes to seduce guys who are trying to be good, but an angel nonetheless.”

  “And if I’m a sinful angel, then you’re a holy devil. A devil who is capable of doing the dirtiest things in the world to me, but who hides all that and acts like a perfect little church boy most of the time.”

  “Whatever you say.” I roll my eyes as she leans back again.

  “Will you tell me more about Caitlin one day?” she asks after a moment, her voice softer.

  “Sure,” I say. If there will even be a “one day,” and I don’t finally come to my senses and walk away from you and let you have a normal life.

  “How often do you still think about her?”

  “Every day.”

  “Are you still in love with her?”

  I take a deep breath. “No. I’m not sure I ever was, looking back on it. She saw a young, vulnerable boy still mourning the loss of his brother and took advantage of him. I think she had me whipped because of her…sex skills, or whatever, and I didn’t see how screwed-up the situation was until later.”

  “How old are you really, Stellan?”

  I can’t help but look away.

  “I turned twenty two.”

  “And when did you turn twenty two?”

  “Okay, fine. Two Julys ago,” I admit.

  “Well then,” she says, clearly trying to keep her cool. “So you’re twenty-three. I can deal with that. You always seemed older than me, anyway. Anything else I should know? Any secret children? Is your name on a government watch list or something? Do you have a wife somewhere you never told me about?”

  “That’s it, I swear. No more secrets.”

  “Ugh,” she groans as she shakes her head a minute later. “And all this time I sat here thinking you wouldn’t have sex with me because you were a Christian or a virgin or whatever. Seems the story has changed just a little.” She smiles over at me. “But…to be honest, the whole God thing was kind of hot.”

  “It was?”

  She bites her lip. “Let’s just say I hope you never take off that necklace.”

  “Why not?”

  She pauses, looks up, and smiles at the stars. “Because I like to look at it when I come.”

  Oh my God. To get off this subject before I pick her up and fuck her on the hood of my car, I get back to the lie issue. “Sorry about that, again. It was just easier to let everyone think I was celibate than for them to find out the real truth. You have to understand, it’s just not something I could let out.”

  “Okay. And one more thing- is all this why you had that weird reaction to me that first night, at Moderation? Because I looked like her?”

  “Yes, to be honest. It threw me off.”

  She frowns. “So that’s the only reason you’re attracted to me? Because I remind you of Caitlin?”

  “Hell no,” I tell her. “You’re gorgeous, Taylor. Phenomenal. Perfect. But it’s not a crime for a guy to have a specific type of girl that he likes. Or…never mind, bad word choice,” I laugh. “Anyway, yes, that may have been the first thing that caught my attention about you, but trust me, when I look at you, I see you. I see Taylor, not Caitlin.”

  “Good, then,” she breathes. “Wow, I’m glad you’re not mad at me after all this.”

  “What?”

  “I thought you’d be mad that I Googled you,” she says quietly.

  “You found out I killed someone, and you were worried about my reaction?” I look down at the gravel, sad again. “Can’t you see that I’ve got a war in my mind?”

  She reaches over and rests a hand on my leg. I want to pull away, but somehow I stay still. “Well, answer me this- have you hurt me yet?” she asks.

  “What?”

  “Have you hurt me, yes or no?”

  “Well, no, but-”

  “There are no buts. You’ve had more than enough opportunities to hurt me, and you haven’t. This bad side of you only comes out during hookups, and during every other time we’ve hung out, you’ve been sweet and perfect. Don’t you realize you’re what every girl wants? A guy who treats me like he loves me, and fucks me like he hates me?”

  I tu
rn my head. “The only reason I’ve never hurt you is because we haven’t had sex yet.”

  “No,” she says. “It’s not going to be easy, and you’re going to have to fight for it, but I want to be with you. I want you to make love to me. I trust you. And to demonstrate that trust, I’m going to do this.”

  Taylor stands up, and my mouth drops open at what she does next. Suddenly my heart starts to pound with the force of a jackhammer and my blood simmers to a boil as every muscle in my body ignites with red-hot fury.

  Oh, shit. She really shouldn’t have done that.

  “Fuck you soon, babe,” I say as stand and stare at the girl I love, the light in her eyes shifting from horny to horrified. “Actually, fuck you now.”

  The story of Stellan and Taylor is only just beginning

  Look for the sequel

  Coming soon