by S. L. Siwik
“You don’t want to do this,” he said sympathetically. “You’ll regret it in the morning. This isn’t you.”
I glared back at Ben. “I want to see this so called proof.”
“You know you’re welcomed by my apartment any time,” he replied coolly, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Then let’s go tonight,” I replied. At this point, I was out for blood.
Ben shook his head. “No can do, sweetie. See that girl over there?” I followed his pointed finger to a blonde wearing half a top and skirt along with knee high ‘fuck me’ boots. “That’s where I’ll be tonight.”
I glared back at him as he smirked. “It had to be a blonde, didn’t it?” I sneered.
He seemed taken off guard. “Would you rather me fuck a brunette tonight?” He frowned, his head tilting sideways. “You’re raw tonight. What’s up?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I caught Ryan screwing some girl tonight in our bed, and he’s supposedly sleeping with another one. My pride is wounded, my heart is broken, and I feel completely lost. My friend has video tape of this, but he’s too busy conquering all the sluts in New York tonight to show it to me.” I pointed my finger into his chest repeatedly. “And while you’re busy screwing Miss I’ve-got-daddy-issues tonight, you better think up a damn good reason why after two years I’ll just be seeing these pictures and videos now.”
“I don’t need to think about it, I already know why,” he replied, completely unaffected by my temper, his gaze never faltering. “And if you wanted me to think about you while fucking other girls, you could have just said so.” He smirked, enjoying his impending victory.
I blinked while what he said registered, “Wait. No, I didn’t mean-” I groaned in exasperation as I blushed.
“Alright,” I conceded, “You won that round.” I was too flustered to say anything else.
He smiled widely as he patted me on the back. “Better luck next time.”
“Come on,” Brian’s hand rubbed my shoulder. “Let’s go dance.”
“You know I can’t dance. I’ll just step on your toes repeatedly.”
“That’s alright. Dance with me anyway.” He flashed his winning smile, and all the anger left me. I walked away with Brian into the middle of the club, feeling my friends’ eyes still on me, no doubt to make fun of me later on.
We danced a few songs, and I couldn’t help but enjoy myself. Brian was graceful, if that could be said about a man. Watching him run, it was like poetry in motion. He had been born to do it. I didn’t know if it was because of his height or because of his natural build, but everything physical always appeared effortless for him. While I was busy tripping over my own two feet, he looked like a gazelle, every movement fluid and beautiful.
After torturing Brian’s feet thoroughly, I danced with George, Ben, and Max. Of the guys, Max was the best dancer. He was incredibly quick on his feet; I could barely keep up with him as he spun me dizzy. Brian and Max both figured out ways to incorporate ‘ignite our passion’ into conversation, and George was forced to buy two more rounds. We listened to the band that Ben purposefully came to hear, The Screaming Hammerheads. Despite the stupid name, they were incredible. I could easily see them becoming the next ‘big thing’. The choruses were catchy, the lyrics were soulful, and the front man walked around shirtless with an eight pack on his stomach. I stared at him stupidly for a while, unable to form coherent thoughts. His jeans hung low on his hips and for a while when he jumped around, I waited with bated breath to see if his pants fell down.
“You alright there, Annie?” Ben asked. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Do you need me to get you a pan to catch the slobber?”
Without my eyes ever leaving Mr. Tall, Tan, and Tempting, I replied, “I don’t know what that area on a man is called- that V on his lower abs, but it never fails to render me speechless.”
I heard a loud, bellowing laugh next to me, but I refused to take my eyes off of the gorgeous singer. He jumped up and down while strumming his guitar, and I prayed silently that his pants met the stage floor. Was he a boxers or briefs guy? I couldn’t tell.
“You don’t want him. I’ve talked to the guy a few times. He’s a total dick to girls,” Ben said.
“Who said anything about dating him? I just want to make eye love to him for a while longer,” I replied. I followed him as he moved back by the drummer. I craned my neck to see. Where was he going? I sighed in relief as he walked back towards the microphone.
“You are shameless!” Ben shouted, laughing.
“Shh! I’m busy right now. Why don’t you plan out what bullshit you’re going to tell Miss I’m-wearing-half-a-skirt?”
“What are you talking about? She’s wearing a full skirt.”
I was about to protest when Brian, on my other side, leaned over and asked, “They’re really good, right?”
I nodded in agreement before my eyes went back to following the singer across the stage. The drummer played a solo, the crowd screamed as the band shouted, “We’re The Screaming Hammerheads! Thank you for coming out tonight! Our tour schedule can be found at the back of the club along with merchandise for purchase. Thanks for the support!” Ooh, I needed to get my hands on one of those tour schedules immediately. I clapped before putting my fingers in my mouth and whistling loudly. The sound rose above all other cheers and the singer bowed in my direction.
As the band walked off stage to greet its groupies, I walked back towards the merchandise stand.
“Where are you going, Annie?” Brian asked.
I pointed to the merchandise table and heard Ben say, “Annie here eye fucked the singer the entire time, and now she needs his schedule to stalk him.”
I turned around, glaring at Ben. “So, I eye fuck…or whatever you call it - sexy, half-naked men from time to time when I’ve been drinking all night long. You have sex with any dirty girl with low self-esteem and no standards. I’ve never stopped you from getting with any girl; I’ve never messed up your…” I waved my hands around trying to think of the right word, which was difficult with the amount of alcohol in my blood. “seduction games. I don’t judge you.”
He smirked at me. “Actually, I think it’s rather cute that you fantasize about boys on a stage…like my twelve-year-old sister.”
I groaned out loud. He didn’t just call me that word.
“I officially hate you. And for the record, just so you know, the next time you call me cute, I’ll….” My fists clenched in rage.
“You’ll what?” His eyes taunted me.
“I’ll punch you in the balls,” I replied.
His smile widened. “You wouldn’t.”
I looked him squarely in the eye. “Try me. But, when you’re pissing blood for a week, you can’t blame me, because you’ve been warned.” I pointed to the rest of our friends. “And they all heard me say it.”
“I think she means it,” Brian said smugly. When I glanced at him, I was shocked to find him smiling savagely.
I turned around snagging a tour schedule, and picked up the band’s CD. I asked the man behind the booth what the cost was and took the appropriate money out of my wallet to pay him. It was becoming difficult to see straight though, and I held the bill up twice to check the currency.
“What was the name of the band playing when I came in?” I asked Ben.
He smiled at my question. “The Wailing Wanderers. So, you liked them?”
I nodded my head, and then asked the man for their CD. He found it at the end of the table, and I handed him money. I stuffed the CDs and tour schedule in my purse, turning to find George and Ben eyeing up the women in the place. Brian and Max were chatting about something, but I couldn’t tell what. There was a strange roaring in my ears all of a sudden. I walked over to them, my feet suddenly feeling very heavy.
“So, are you going to sleep over tonight?” Brian enquired, curiosity in his eyes.
“Would you mind?” I asked.
I’d rather Ryan feel the emptiness of the apartm
ent, remind him of what he was missing out on.
“Not at all. You and I haven’t had a sleepover since college.”
“Sleepover? You mean where either you or I passed out in each other’s dorm rooms after cramming all night long for some exam?” I asked, smirking.
“Right well,” There was an awkward pause. “This will be like that, but a lot more fun.”
I smiled. “I’m in.” I wrapped my arm around his shoulder. “One good thing about me and Ryan being on the outs is that you and I can spend more time together,” I said, affectionately.
He smiled brightly. “I know.”
“Hey guys, come over here,” I called out to Ben and George, “Before you start your hunt, let’s get a group picture.”
“I want a copy of this,” Brian and George said at the same time.
“I’ll send one to all of you. “ I took my small digital camera out, and saw a nearby girl with a triple X tattooed across her hand, meaning that she was an extreme straight edge. She’d obviously be sober enough to take the shot of us.
“Excuse me.” I tapped her shoulder politely. She glared up at me with disgust, likely because I reeked of booze. “Would you mind taking a photo of me and my friends?” I pointed back to the guys standing there.
She let out a long sigh, but relented. “Alright.” I handed the camera to her, walking back towards the guys as we all posed for the pictures. After she snapped a few, I thanked her, and took my camera back.
As I walked back towards the group, I saw a guy tap George on the shoulder. “Hey! Are you that guy from that T.V. show?” The guy blinked slowly, clearly in an alcoholic stupor. “You look like that guy from that show.”
“No, I’m not him. I am the guy that fucked your girl last night, though…” George replied darkly. “And made her beg for more.”
I rolled my eyes. Here we go again. We never knew what we would get when George drank. Sometimes he was the sweetest, nicest guy you’d ever met. Sometimes he was a raging asshole. It was night and day, and once he started drinking, there was no way to predict if Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde would show up afterwards.
“Ben, Brian, grab George!”
“Why you piece of-” The guy ran towards George to punch him.
“Hey!” I shouted, holding my hands up in the air. “He didn’t sleep with your girlfriend. He doesn’t know you. He’s mouthing off, because…” I had to think of something quick, which was even harder to do because everything just felt so heavy. “he just caught his girlfriend sleeping with…his best friend.”
My words stopped the guy in his tracks. The guy glanced at George.
“Is that true?”
I glared at George, my eyes promising violence if he didn’t agree. I didn’t want to come up with bond money to bail him out of jail. But, more importantly, he’d lose his job if he was arrested. George stared into my eyes, mouth clenched, while Brian and Ben both held onto one of his arms. He nodded his head.
“Sorry man,” the guy said sympathetically. “Must be difficult being on a T.V. show and having your girl screw around on you. Better luck next time.” The man walked off, while George still murderously glared at me.
“You can thank me tomorrow when you step into your office, because you still have your job,” I replied. Some of the anger left his body upon hearing my words.
Ben and Brian let go of his arms, and Brian walked over to me, his eyes signaling that he wanted to leave. I nodded, and then kissed Max, Ben, and George on the cheek before walking out of the club with Brian.
**
I was more drunk than I thought, because I remembered very little about how we arrived home. I vaguely remembered a subway and a train being involved, but I was fuzzy on the details. I did somewhat remember trying to talk people on the train into starting a band with me, though, telling some guy he seemed like a natural drummer. But, it was only fragments of memory. The only thing I really remembered much of was Brian’s smile.
I woke up hung-over, but well rested. Looking around, I realized that I was in Brian’s bedroom, and when I glanced down, I sighed in relief that I was still fully clothed. Turning my head, I smiled even in my aching state. The view was just spectacular. Waves were crashing onto the jetty below. I heard the sound of seagulls squawking outside, swooping down to catch fish. The sky was a bright blue, not a cloud in the sky. Views like this were rare at the mouth of N.Y.C. and came with hefty price tags.
Looking down at the charcoal-gray colored, silk sheets, I realized that I had never been in Brian’s bed before. That was something we never did- venture into each other’s bedrooms. Our friendship had always been platonic, and we had both always stayed firmly in those boundaries. Well, except the night we met…
I looked around the room feeling as though I had entered forbidden territory. There was a large wooden dresser the same color mahogany as all the custom made furniture in Brian’s parents’ home. The top of the dresser was filled with sports trophies.
“Show off,” I muttered under my breath, before glancing around the room at the mounted television and charcoal-gray curtains matching the bedding. The whole room felt very masculine, and I was immediately given the sense that I was in a bachelor pad. On the wall above the bed was a picture of Babe Ruth hitting a baseball. Two other pictures were in the room. One was the movie poster from Swingers, Brian’s favorite movie. The second took me by surprise. It was a digital photo frame, and every picture that flashed before my eyes was of Brian and me spanning the nearly five years that we had known each other. In shock, I stepped out of the bed, walking over to the picture frame right outside his master bathroom. I covered my mouth, tears trickling down my face. I had forgotten about many of those memories. The picture flashed of us dressing up for Halloween our second year as Bonnie and Clyde- the two of us posed with our backs to each other guns drawn. The picture changed to the trip to his parents’ house when we went fishing in their boat-Brian held up a three foot fish smugly, I held up a seven inch fish and glared at him jealously. The pictures kept flashing- homecoming games, late night diner outings, bar crawls. There were a few pictures with Ryan, Brian, and me from my birthday outings. My arms were around both of them and Ryan glanced sideways at Brian. Sadness filled my heart at the picture. It seemed like a lifetime ago that the picture happened, not just a year ago. A different perspective made just a day feel like a year, though.
The door opened, and I turned towards Brian. He had a glass in hand, and his eyes quickly glanced from the photo frame to me.
“Here,” he said, holding out the drink. “Drink it.” Without questioning, I did as he asked, drinking the brownish colored liquid. Part of me hoped that it was brandy or bourbon. Nothing beat a little ‘hair of the dog.’ As the drink slid down my throat, the taste, my fuzzy brain recognized, was disgusting. Swallowing, I began coughing. From the corner of my eye, I caught his smirk. “It’s for hang-overs. Disgusting, but effective.” I swallowed the rest, while he folded his arms wearing a black t-shirt and grey basketball shorts, leaning against the wall.
“So, you ready?” he asked.
“Yeah, let’s do it. Skinny Annie, here I come!” I still wanted to lose the weight to win back Ryan.
He chuckled loudly. “You’re in no condition to go running. We’ll start on Monday. But, I’m forewarning you, you’re going to hate me. But when we’re done, you’re going to love me,” he said.
“Whatever you need to do,” I said, “Just make me skinny.”
He walked out of the room, and I followed not mentioning the picture frame. I looked at the couch and saw a blanket and pillow.
“Brian, you should have put me on the couch. I’m a guest at your place.”