I’ve been living with Mandy for the last two years. We met during our first year of college and sort of hit it off, but something feels like it’s missing between us, because I don’t have that whole choirs are singing feeling of being madly in love. I find myself getting exacerbated with her and her incessant planning. There have been many days where I’ve tuned out entire conversations, because I swear she just loves to hear herself talk. She has early classes this week, so she’s been up and gone long before I need to be. It irritates her that I don’t drop my entire life and follow her around like some sappy lovesick teenager, and in turn her expectations piss me off. Is it wrong of me to say that I’ve been really enjoying these stolen moments of solitude?
I think about how I got myself into this situation as I adjust the water temperature to the shower, shaking my head in disappointment. I step under the hot spray, grabbing my all in one shampoo/body wash. I’ve been using this since high school and still love it. It cuts shower time down and that’s important to me. At one point Mandy had four different hair products for me to use in the shower. It took her some time to understand that I’m a guy and I don’t need three different shampoos. All it did was piss me off. I soap up my heavily muscled body and let my mind wander.
My current issues with Mandy have me thinking about my mom and dad and the situation they had thrust me into as a child, whether I wanted it or not. When everything was finally revealed to me, I was devastated. All the years of lies and half-truths had a major impact on me, affecting how I trust others. I had been beaten down myself, of sorts. Lies of omission are lies in my book and I still grit my teeth when I think of it.
I had turned nine that summer, the summer my entire world spun on its axis. Mom and Dad sat me down to tell me that I had a half-brother. Dad had cheated on mom and it resulted in a boy my age, although, that’s not how they told it. It was something more along the lines of a mistake. Still, he was conceived and born while my parents were married. In fact, we’re only weeks apart. I couldn’t understand how Dad could do that to Mom, and to me. My innocence couldn’t understand why Mom wasn’t angrier at that time. I still don’t understand it. Cheating is a hard limit for me, resulting in no second chances. Even at the age of nine I understood betrayal and shame.
Dad hadn’t been aware that his indiscretion resulted in a child, and from what I remember he was pretty fucking angry it had been kept from him. My Dad may be a cheater, but he is a good dad, and to find out he had a son somewhere without a father devastated him. I, though, wasn’t ready for a brother, half or not. My plan was to hate him; after all, it was his mother who had interested Dad. Apparently, he didn’t want to like me either, but we were forced to figure it out, because I was informed that he would be spending summers with us from that day forward.
I still remember it like it was yesterday. “Say hello to your brother, Sawyer,” Dad said while nudging me towards Mark. I was sullen and angry, my arms crossed over my chest. I even let out an angry little puff of air and rolled my eyes.
“Hello, Mark.” I stared at his face while keeping a stony expression on mine. There was no way in hell that I was going to like him. He mirrored my stance and expression, clearly not any happier about the situation than I was. Our faces and bodies were mirror images to one another, right down to the color of our deep green eyes.
“Hello, Sawyer,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I want the two of you to go on and play and give each other a chance,” Dad said when he could tell we were both angry. I know Dad meant well with the whole situation, but I wasn’t sure that either one of us was going to give in. Mom had even sat me down the night before and tried to get me to see things from Mark’s perspective, like how he hadn’t even known he had a dad or a brother, and I only had to adjust to learning about Mark. She asked if I could put myself in his shoes and imagine how nervous he might be to not only meet a dad he knew nothing of, but a brother as well. I remember how Mom nodded at me as if to nudge me towards him. I did as she asked, trying to put myself in his shoes and to feel how hard it must have been for him. I remember staring at the boy who had the same green eyes as me and Dad, and sighing loudly, dropping my arms from across my chest, hoping that I wasn’t going to regret it.
“C’mon,” I said. “I built a really cool tree fort out back.” I watched his face as he thought about it for a moment and then he gave me a little nod and dropped his arms from his chest too, and off we went. That initial meeting was awkward and rough for both of us, but it wasn’t long and we were thick as thieves. He spent every summer with us until his mother died when he turned eighteen. Once that occurred it was like he cut himself off from the rest of us, and no amount of pushing him helped.
He changed and I don’t like the man he is becoming. It’s hard for me to watch, because he is losing himself and he can’t see it. Dad and I talk about it a lot, and we both agreed that he would have to hit rock bottom before he would be willing to take any help. I’m just not sure if I can be there to help him pick up the pieces when it happens. Like I said, he’s becoming someone I don’t like.
I shake the memories off and pull myself out of my head as the last bit of soap circles down the drain. There is nothing better than a ten-minute shower to get the day started. I hurry to dry off and toss my damp towel into the laundry hamper along with my dirty clothes. I’m a bit of a freak that likes order, so I don’t leave anything lying around. Too bad Mandy doesn’t feel the same way, because she’s a slob and it irritates the hell out of me that I’m constantly picking up after her. She thinks everyone is supposed to do everything for her.
I blow out a sigh as I pull on my boxer briefs, a pair of jeans, and a black concert t-shirt, sliding my feet into my black army boots. I ride a motorcycle, so I’m always dressed like this, ready for a ride any time. There is nothing better than being on the open road, sitting on the back of my bike. I know a lot people say that, but it’s true. Mandy hates the bike, so I take any opportunity I can to ride it. Plus, now I think I like to ride it just because it pisses her off so much. I’ve never met a person before who is jealous over an object. I shake my head as I grab up my book bag and the keys hanging on a hook by the door, heading to my parking spot out back.
I’ve got a Harley Fatboy and I love it. It’s black with chrome detailing and I added the leather saddlebags so I could throw my school shit in there. I smile to myself when I turn the key and the throaty, familiar rumble of a Harley muffler sounds in my ears. It’s a comforting sound to me, evoking good memories. I throw my leg over and kick up the stand, not wasting a moment before pulling out of my parking spot and into traffic. The ride to school isn’t long, only about ten minutes with traffic. I always arrive early enough to get a good seat in the classroom. My first class is with Professor Bates, the ever-dreaded statistics class. I almost groan at the thought of the two-hour class; definitely not the way I’d like to start my Monday. I slide off my bike and adjust myself, before reaching into the saddlebags for my backpack and throw it across my back, inserting my arms under the straps. I begin the long walk from commuter parking across campus toward my class, greeting people as I go.
“Hey, Sawyer!” I hear shouted from behind me, “Wait up.” I turn in the direction of the voice and see Carly Parks, but keep walking. This girl will not stop bothering me. We went out on one date a little over two years ago. I thought she was hot and went down on her, and since she’s been back for more. She’s determined to break up my relationship with Mandy and goes out of her way to see me or touch me whenever she can. She really makes me cringe. Her voice is like fingernails scraping down a chalkboard. I can’t stand her. She’s clingy and breathless and uses a baby voice. Fuck, and she couldn’t catch a clue if you smacked her in the face with it.
“Fuck me,” I mutter under my breath. She’s already caught up to me before I realize it and is tugging on the sleeve of my t-shirt. I look at her, then at her hand, and she finally catches on, immediately letting go of me.
&nbs
p; “Oh gosh,” she says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch your shirt.” Fuck, she’s batting her damn eyelashes at me. I want to laugh. Does that shit actually work on other guys? If so, then we’re suckers. I pick up my pace, hoping my long strides will discourage her, but nope, she puts an extra little pep into her prancing steps and keeps up with me.
“You never answered my text,” she whines. “About the picture I sent you. Aren’t you upset with her?” I look at her, the confusion evident on my face. What the fuck is she talking about? I don’t recall a picture, and why would I be angry, and at who?
“Listen, Carly,” I say while running my hand through my hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t get a text from you.” I stop walking and watch while she fumbles around in her bag and pulls out her cell phone, holding it out for me to see.
“Here,” she says in her grating baby voice. “It’s the first picture you pull up.” She’s almost giddy about whatever it is she’s going to show me. I’m wary as I open her photos and the photo that appears is Mandy with another man. I can’t tell who it is as the picture is mostly of the back of his head. She’s smiling and leaning forward and it appears as if their mouths are almost touching, but it’s difficult to say from the angle of this photo. I don’t want to assume anything. It could just be her out with someone from class and this is Carly’s sick way of seeing if she can get a chance with me. I keep my face passive and show no expression. Carly would eat that shit up in a second and pounce on me like fresh meat if she thought for one second that she has a shot at me. I am not giving her the satisfaction.
“So…. what are you going to do?” Why does she fucking think this is her business?
“None of your business,” I tell her, my voice firm. I begin to walk again, anything to get away from her. My mind is whirling. I’ve definitely got questions for Mandy, but I’m not going to automatically assume anything bad. That would be unfair of me and I’m nothing but fair. I’m not the jealous type, never have been, but I can’t say that this doesn’t surprise me with the way she’s been acting. Either way, I think a conversation between us is long overdue. I’m lost in thought, still walking to class robotically, when I hear my name being called, but this time by a different voice.
“Hey, Man. Hold up.” My buddy Dylan calls out. I look up. I’ve never been happier to see someone in my entire life. I turn to Carly and try again to let her down, this time with a bit more finesse.
“Carly, thanks for showing me the picture. I’m not sure if you think this gives you a shot with me, but it doesn’t. We had our shot and it just wasn’t working for me.” I watch her face carefully and see that I’ve halted the waterworks. She has tried that before. I let my breath out in a quiet whoosh. I’ve dodged a bullet. I stop walking so Dylan can catch up and wave off Carly.
Dylan and I have been good friends since middle school. He stuck with me through all of the bullying and he’s still with me now that we can look back and laugh at everything. I’m not the scrawny little punk I once was.
“Hey, Fucker,” he says to me. “What did she want?” He laughs at me while slapping me on the back of the head.
“Fuck off, Douche.” I kid. “Just attempt number 205 of Carly trying to get Sawyer’s dick.” He laughs at me, bending over double and holding his stomach.
“Where do you find these chicks? You must have some sort of magic cock in your pants, because they keep coming back for more.” He shifts his backpack onto his back and shakes his head side to side. I know I can tell him anything and he’ll have my back, every time.
“She thinks Mandy’s cheating.” I watch his face as he takes the information in. Just like that he goes from kidding around to serious.
“Fuck, I wouldn’t be surprised,” he says. “I’ve always said she’s like a snake in the grass, just waiting on her opportunity to strike.”
I pull out my phone, having forwarded myself a copy from Carly’s phone, and show him the photo. He’s a good friend, and even though he never liked her he’ll support me in whatever I decide to do.
“I need to talk to her about this. You know how I feel about shit like that.” If I find out it’s true then that will be that, no second chances.
“Whatever you need,” he says. “You’ve got my support. Besides, maybe this is your opportunity to change the situation before it becomes something you will really regret.” I look at him with a question in my eyes, my brows furrowed.
“What do you mean?” I stop walking and give him my full attention, as I’m now curious as to what he’s got to say.
“Well, think of it this way. If you’re already having problems with her in a dating relationship, could you imagine marrying her and having kids, along with dealing with everyday shit? If it’s true and she will cheat on you now, think of what she’s capable of after she has access to your money. Shit like that changes people. I know you may not be thinking marriage right now, but we are close to graduating. All of that is the next step. Will she be by your side and be a lifelong committed partner to you or will she always try to take you down like a shipwreck in a storm? Does she support you and your dreams or is it always about her? All I’m saying is…if she isn’t worth marrying, she isn’t worth dating, not anymore. We aren’t freshmen anymore.”
Fuck, he’s right.
“You’re giving me lots to think about, Man. Thanks.”
I appreciate him and his friendship. I know he’s got my best interests at heart. I slap him on the back. “Let’s get to class before we flunk out senior year.” We’re now outside our class and I mentally prepare myself for two long hours of numbers, trying to let go of the bullshit.
Dylan and I head into class. It’s filling up quickly. We plan to open our own business when we graduate. Both of us are taking double majors, one in Business Administration and the other in Accounting. We’re both carrying a 4.0 grade point average.
We walk to the back of the class, which is held in an auditorium style classroom since it’s a large class, about 150 students, and that’s just for this time slot. It isn’t long before the professor arrives and my mind is on nothing but numbers and statistics. There is comfort in numbers and organization, the “keep it simple” mentality. The class today seems longer than usual, likely because I can’t stop thinking about my upcoming conversation with Mandy. Our schedules won’t align for another two days and while this issue is important, the extra time will let me think things through fully. Essentially, we’ll be like two ships passing in the night with her leaving early in the morning and getting home late at night, on top of my odd schedule, but I truly feel this time is needed before I make a drastic life changing decision, whatever that may be. Two years vested in someone is a long time. I want to be able to mull this over in my mind to figure out the best way to address what’s been going on between us, regardless of whether she is cheating or not. If I’m honest with myself I’m using the cheating as an excuse to do what it is I want to do, which is leave her. What’s even worse is that I’m hoping it’s true.
I let out a sigh and am startled from my thoughts when I see Dylan standing beside me, his backpack thrown over his shoulders, and he’s looking at me with a question on his face.
“Earth to Sawyer. Are you with me? It’s time for our next class.”
“Oh shit, my mind’s been wandering.” I quickly grab up my items and throw them in my backpack as we walk out of class together. Our next class is a special Marketing course. We took Marketing at the freshman level, but this course is focusing primarily on promotions. Don’t ask me why it’s needed. I’m just following the curriculum to graduate. There isn’t an exam in this course, but we are required to come up with a full Marketing plan including promotions which will account for half of our total grade.
Dylan really has a knack for this and I think he’s in the wrong major, but he always tells me there is time if he wants to keep studying. Dylan comes from a very well off family and can afford to go to college as a “professional st
udent” if he wants to. I’m not complaining. My family is wealthy; however, we’re just not in the same financial class as Dylan’s family. They’re in a whole other stratosphere from us.
The day is long and I feel like I’m dragging along. My feet feel like they are carrying around lead boots. It feels like it’s never going to end today. In every class I’ve been staring at my phone for the time while everything the professor says goes in one ear and out the other, not sticking in the process. I’m so distracted that I didn’t even eat my lunch, which is very unusual for me, but I managed to drag my ass through the entire day. I’m exhausted by the big workload, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Freedom from studying is in the not too distant future. I just need to hang in there. I truly am thankful that I don’t have to worry about a part-time job along with my studies. I swear I don’t know how some students do it. I’d imagine a lot of caffeine and sleepless nights are part of a daily routine.
Dylan and I walk to the parking lot together, stopping when we reach my motorcycle. He is heading to his place to get ready for some hot date he has tonight.
“Good luck tonight with Anna,” I say with a chuckle, winking as he flips me off. Anna has a reputation as being quite the little firecracker in the sack. Dylan is far from wanting to settle down and he proves it each time he proudly shows another girl his frat room. “Thanks again for today.”
“Hey, Man, I told you before you don’t have to fucking thank me. I’m your friend and I’ve got your back. Remember that.” I watch as he throws his stuff into the back of his truck.
“Don’t spend too much time at the library,” he says teasingly. “Maybe it’s time you got your dick sucked for once. You need to loosen up once in a while.” I shake my head at him and let out a laugh. Dylan is one of those people that doesn’t have to study. Unfortunately, I’m not one of those people, and if I don’t put in the hard work my grades suffer. Of course he would laugh at me and call bullshit. If I don’t try I’m a B student, but I’m not happy with average, so for now it’s long study dates with the library and school books.
Accepting Cherry Page 6