Chasing McCree

by J. C. Isabella

  When he had immersed himself in a phone call, I rolled my eyes and headed for the stairs. He said he was going to take away my credit card, but didn’t ask for it. For such a smart guy he had a hell of a time paying attention. If I was feeling really spiteful, I could go buy something expensive, like jewelry. But that would be childish.

  Walking up the stairs killed my knees. It was like I could feel the scabs ripping open. Halfway to my room I spotted my mother. I tried to hide my shock. Her lips were three times their usual size. She looked like a duck.

  “Briar, I’ve been looking all over for you.” She air kissed me and dug her flawlessly manicured nails into my arm, pulling me back down the stairs. “We’re going to be late for our appointment at the spa. I’ve had it booked for two months, and here you are waltzing in like you have all the time in the world. But don’t worry, I had your dress delivered, and ordered the proper lingerie to accompany it. You had nothing suitable in your closet. Raphael signed for them this afternoon.”

  I stared at the back of her head her dumbly until I remembered it was Saturday.

  Prom.

  How could I have forgotten prom?

  “Did you tell Alex to get a corsage to match your dress? It’s such a pretty shade of blue. Anything other than white will clash with it.”

  She was waiting for me to say something and I was still playing the mute.

  “I think I might skip prom this year, mom.”

  Her head whipped around, followed by her body. I got a whiff of heavy perfume, then a close look at her lips. They were massive from injections. She’d probably gone to another one of her friend’s Botox parties.

  “How can you say that? You’ve been looking forward to it ever since you and Alex started going out.” I’d have my senior prom. It’s not like junior prom was that important.

  “I dumped Alex. It’s over, and I’m not going.” I tried to go back up the stairs but she kept those claws in me.

  “Oh, no. I did not spend six hundred dollars on a dress and book you a limo to have you back out.” She shook her finger at me. The finger on her favorite hand. It was her favorite because of the two-carat diamond weighing down her ring finger. An early birthday present to herself, from herself.

  Her birthday was in November.

  “Do you know what everyone will say Monday when I go to the children’s charity luncheon, Briar?” she asked. It was no use digging in my heels. I’d get yelled at for ruining a rug or something. “They will say I raised an ungrateful child. And poor Alex. How will I face his mother? The Walkers are one of the most influential families in the city, and you dump their son? No. No, you are going to go to prom and fix this.”

  “I don’t see how my dating Alex affects you!”

  “It affects your father, and I’m married to your father. That’s how it affects me. Alex’s uncle is on Dartmouth’s Medical Board of Overseers. A most prestigious position. Your father’s connections to Alex’s family could give him the boost he needs to be considered for a position at the school.”

  “I don’t think my dating him is going to have any influence on whether Dartmouth likes dad.” I should feel used. Really, I should. But this kind of stuff was classic for my mother. I could only inwardly laugh at her antics as she shoved me out the front door, barefoot.

  “Aren’t you going to feel guilty if it could have made a difference?”

  “No.” I found myself strapped in the front seat of her Mercedes, and stared glumly out the window. I missed the sounds of the truck engine, squeaky seats and Chase humming with the radio. “Dad’s not going to get noticed by Dartmouth just because he knows someone. It’s based on whether he’s the right person for the program. I have no control over anything by dating Alex.”

  She let out a little harrumph and sped for the spa. I was whisked away by Raphael, the cliché gay stylist every rich woman needs, to be polished and primped to within an inch of my life.

  My mother left me alone, thank god, to get her mud wrap. I could color her gone for the rest of the day, just like my father. It’s a wonder they never forgot about me, left me somewhere when I was little. Then again, it might have happened if it weren’t for the nanny. She watched out for me until I was old enough to watch myself. Then mom fired her when she and my dad had an affair.

  So I’d basically been on my own for the last five years of my life. Living in a perfect pink bubble and managed by my dictating, self-absorbed parents.

  There were times I wondered if they remembered they had a daughter. I could have acted out. Drugs, drinking, sneaking around…they’d never have noticed. I’m not sure I’d want them to notice me anyway. Every once and a while my parents would get into a big fight that would last for a couple days, then they’d stop speaking to each other. Then they’d tolerate each other, using me as the person to relay messages between them, and finally they’d make up to keep up appearances. A divorce would be too scandalous. People might find out about their affairs.

  Mostly I steered clear of them.

  The only place I could be myself was at Grandmas. I couldn’t be myself around my friends. They were like younger versions of their parents, who were just like my parents.

  If it hadn’t been for Grandma and Grandpa, I would have turned out just like them.

  Sometimes I wondered if I’d been adopted. It would explain a hell of a lot.

  One thing was for sure though, once I turned eighteen, I’d be moving out. I’m biding my time until then, but after last night, I don’t think I’d be pretending anymore. Not going to be the dutiful daughter with the perfect smile, or the cheerleader who hung out with the popular crowd.

  Nope, things were going to change, whether I was ready for it or not.

  And all because of a cowboy.

  “So, what do we want to do with the hair?” Raphael examined my wet curls after he washed them.

  “I was thinking it could be natural.”

  “Natural. Like, nothing at all? Don’t you want me to straighten your frizz?”

  “No, and it’s only frizzy because we haven’t formed the curls yet.” I smiled, remembering how Chase seemed to like my hair curly. “Maybe pin a few pieces up, and leave the rest.”

  “Ah, soft and romantic.” He sighed, glancing at a picture hanging on the wall of his boyfriend Will.

  “Er, sure.”

  When it came time for makeup, I talked him into another natural, soft and romantic type look. No heavy crap caked on. I skipped lipstick and went for pink gloss.

  When Raphael finished, I stood in front of the mirror, shocked.

  This was the best I’d ever looked. I wasn’t hiding behind shadows and liners and fake lashes. Didn’t look like I was thirty years old. For once I felt like myself. Or at least, the person I should be.

  That is, until Raphael helped me into the dress Rachel had been adamant I buy.

  It was strapless, backless, peacock blue. The top held up by double-sided body tape. The hem of the skintight dress grazed the tops of my thighs. If I bent over, even a little, my butt would be on display.

  I wasn’t even sure how I’d get in a car. If I pulled the dress down to cover the bottom, my boobs spilled out of the top. And since I couldn’t wear a bra because it was backless, I risked flashing people.

  I glanced at Raphael who stood behind me, eyes wide in the full-length mirror.

  “Oh, honey.” He tapped his nails on the counter. “You look…nice.”

  “I look like a slut.” I wanted to cry. What a time to start examining your life.

  He patted my shoulder. “What’s up with you? All of a sudden, you’re bucking the system.”

  “I got drunk and had an epiphany.”

  “Shit, this is serious.” He gasped. “Last time that happened to me, I woke up gay.”

  Wow. “So what should I do? I don’t feel good dressed like this. Come to think of it, I never liked this dress.”

  He smoothed the front of this black vest. “Your father will remove my liver with a f
ork if I let you leave looking like that.”

  Resigned, and happily I might add, I peeled off the dress and donned a fluffy robe. Raphael took the monstrosity out of the room, and was gone for about fifteen minutes. I sat at his booth, eating candy almonds and spinning around in the styling chair until I got dizzy, wondering how I would go to the dance now. I would never hear the end of it from my mother if I didn’t. At times like this, I wondered if I could just move in with my grandmother.

  “Here we go,” Raphael slipped back into the room and presented a wispy pink dress and black flats. “I think this will be more your speed.”

  “Where did you get them?”

  “My friend Shelly has a vintage boutique three blocks away. I put in an emergency call.”

  The dress fit and it didn’t come across slutty. Best of all, it matched my natural look. Light, silky material floated at my knees, helping to hide the scrapes, a thick black ribbon tide at my waist, and the black flats replaced killer silver heels.

  Instead of feeling cheap, I felt beautiful and classy, like I was being myself for the first time.

  Raphael dabbed his eyes with a tissue as I was leaving. “I should go into the fairy godmother business.”

  The driver my mother hired dropped me off at the school gym. Everyone was already inside. Music the DJ played pulsed the floor. I stood on the far side of the room watching my classmates kick off their shoes and lose themselves to the rhythm. I spotted Rachel and Nathan off to one side grinding into each other. She was wearing a similar version of the dress I’d originally bought. The bottom of it had ridden up to reveal black lace panties. But no one seemed to notice or care. Not even the teachers, who were busy ignoring all the students groping each other on the dance floor.

  I slipped my way through the crowd and into the girl’s locker room. My purse was in my locker. I grabbed my cell phone and wallet out of it, putting them in the little black bag that went with my dress. To kill time, so I didn’t have to go back out into the gym, I pretended to use the restroom. Then I checked for messages on my phone. I had too many to count. They were all from Rachel and Alex. Half of them were apologies, and the other half called me oversensitive. I needed to loosen up and stop worrying so much. I deleted every message and text. But then I came across one from someone else. It was from Chase. He’d called my phone so that I’d have his number. I smiled and saved it in my contacts; thankful I had someone who wasn’t judging me like my so-called friends.

  After twenty minutes hiding in the girl’s locker room I forced myself to go back out into the gym. It was time for me to go. I couldn’t stand on the sidelines watching everyone dance. That would only draw attention.

  “Hey, Briar!” Beth tottered over in a pair of platform heels, wearing a silver dress that looked too tight to breathe in.“Oh my god. I am having so much fun!”

  “Great.” Super great…she was already drunk!

  “You look different.” Beth motioned to my dress. “It’s almost…sweet.”

  From the inflection in her voice, I didn’t take that as a compliment. “I felt over exposed in the dress I bought with Rachel. This is a lot prettier. Besides, it’s vintage.”

  She sniffed. “Oh, I guess vintage isn’t so bad. Chanel?”

  “Actually, I don’t know who it’s by.”

  Beth waved to someone behind me, and then met my eyes, with pity. “Everyone has an off night.”

  “I guess…” what was I supposed to say, that I really didn’t care about the stupid dance? Yeah, that would win me some major points.

  She gave me another pathetically pitying look before leaving, making an excuse about needing to say hi to someone super important.

  I headed for the door, not making eye contact with anyone else. This was it. I’d officially screwed my social life. It was finished. Poof. Out from the popular crowd. I might as well change schools.

  “Briar, wait.”

  I turned back to see Alex slipping out of the sea of writhing bodies. He ran toward me. I knew I had to face him sooner or later. Might as well get it over with now. My cute dress seemed pretty repellant, and I was on a roll after sending Beth running. Hopefully Alex followed her example.

  “When did you get here?”

  I shrugged. “Not long ago.”

  He jerked his tie off and shoved it in his pants pocket. I had to give him credit. He cleaned up nice and was good looking in his own right. But looks were deceiving.

  “Do you want to dance?” he asked as a slow song came on.

  “Actually, I’m going home.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. Briar, I never mean to hurt you. Dance with me, please, that’s all I’m asking. I just want to talk.”

  I sighed, knowing that if I danced with him my mother would find out. She’d leave me alone, for a little while. “Fine, one dance. That’s all the time you have, and then I’m leaving.”

  He led me to the dance floor. I rested my hands on his shoulders, keeping a good amount of space between us.

  “Say what you have to say Alex.”

  “Like I said, I’m sorry.” His hands settled at my waist. “It’s just that I get these urges, and I have to remember to control them.”

  Did he think I was going to fall for this? “Okay.”

  “But I’m going to work on it. If I knew when you would be ready, then it would be easier to wait.” His hands slipped a little lower and I raised my eyebrows.

  “Ready?”

  “Yeah, I’ll wait. I can ignore my needs for a while.”

  “Alex, I can’t give you a specific time. I’m not ready now, and I don’t know when I will be. When I am ready though, I can promise you one thing.”

  “What’s that?” he locked his arms around me and swooped in for a kiss.

  I grimaced, shoving him back. “I promise I won’t be ready for you.”

  “Damn it, Briar.” He jerked me closer. “Our parents expect this.”

  I balked at him. “What?”

  “After high school we’re going to announce our engagement.”

  This was more than just about Dartmouth hiring my dad. This was about a merger. The Walkers and the Thompsons. It would be front-page society, just like my mom wanted. We would be family, and then my dad would get his shot at the big time position he craved.

  “I’m not marrying you. We’re too young, for one. And I can’t stand you.”

  “Sorry, our parents have an agreement.” He laughed, trying to kiss me again.

  Just to emphasize how serious I was, I kneed him in the crotch and ran out of the gym.

  Chapter 6

  “W-why do boys have to be such je-jerks?” I sobbed, blowing my nose in a wad of paper towels I’d snagged from the girls bathroom under the stadium bleachers.

  “Oh, Briar baby. Not all men are jerks.” Grandma said. I’d called her as soon as I was in the clear and no one would hear me talking. The safest place was the football stadium. No one came out here to do anything, except get high. And the druggies were slinking in the shadows, far enough away that I wouldn’t be noticed. “Some are bastards that should be castrated and sent to hell, but not all. I married your grandfather because he was one of the decent ones.”

  I sniffed. “I kneed Alex in the crotch in front of the wh-whole school!”

  She sighed. “And I once laughed so hard I peed my pants at a Yankees game. Life goes on. I am proud of you for giving the little shit what he deserved.”

  “Thanks. You always know what to say to make me feel better.” I sucked in a breath, wiping my eyes. “I can’t believe my parents would do that to me.”

  “Ha, I can.” She clicked her teeth together, “I think you should let me take care of talking to your father. I’ll give the little shit a piece of my mind.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Can I stay with you until this blows over?”

  “Of course! My door is always open, you know that. Now why don’t you stop your bawling and go have some fun? It’s not even ten yet.”<
br />
  I groaned. “I’ll go home.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t have any friends, not after what I just did.”

  “Not even that nice cowboy?”

  I laughed. “Chase?”

  “Sure, you seemed to get along fine together. I’ll bet my bottom teeth that he’s nothing like Alex. He’s one of the good ones. The kind of boy who wont grab your ass unless you ask him to.”

  “I really like him, but I can’t call him.” I wanted to. Chase was just nice to be around. I didn’t feel like I had to impress him or that he was judging me. “He’s going to think I’m a needy crybaby.”

  “Honey, you just described half the women in America. Give him a call, what have you got to lose? Nothing. But you could gain a friend. Maybe even a boyfriend.” Before she hung up she made kissy sounds and told me to start the night over and have fun.

  That was easier said than done.

  It took me ten minutes to actually work up the nerve to call him.

  Chase answered on the forth ring and put me on speakerphone. “Hello?”

  Here goes nothing. “Hi, Chase. Uh, it’s me, Briar.”

  There was a whizzing sound, and then he came back. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “Oh, nothing.” It was time to think strategically, and play dumb. Something I learned from Grandma. “So…I don’t see you anywhere. I was going to ask you if you wanted to dance or maybe grab something to eat.”

  “Uh, where are you?”

  “Prom.”

  Another whizzing sound. “I didn’t go. Are you having fun?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Those friends of yours being jackasses?”

  “Yeah,” I smiled.

  “Just ignore them. They’ll get bored and leave you alone.” Another whizzing sound.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shooting apples off a fence.”

  “With what?”

  “A crossbow.”

  Right, of course he was.

  “Briar, darlin’, what is it that you called to ask me? It wasn’t to dance.”

  Darlin’? I smiled. I couldn’t help liking the way that sounded.