by Key, Liana
"Love at first sight?" Her revelation surprised me. "Why didn't you say?"
"You might have thought I was crazy," she said, still laughing.
The side gate opened, and we both turned and looked. Cassian was standing there, dressed in tennis gear.
"Hey," he said, acknowledging both of us. "Magdala, we're leaving in half an hour."
"I better go," she said to me and she reached up to kiss me again. "Thanks for coming," she said.
"Have a great night," I said, wishing I could stay with her. She joined Cassian and I gave them a wave as I got into my car, my heart filled with this indescribable emotion at the knowledge that she loved me as much as I loved her. And the fact that she had unabashedly declared she'd loved me from the beginning blew my mind, fucking blew my brains out. Magdala Strauss was surely, most definitely had to be the love of my life.
Chapter 2
MAGDALA
Nathan wants to take me to a party. It's a big deal, everyone whose anyone will be there. He picks me up when he finishes work, takes me to his place, where he says Tom will pick us up later. I'm dressed in a short blue halter neck dress and fairly high heels, but ones I can walk in. I've curled my hair, I want to look hot. I ask if I'm dressed appropriately, I don't know the dress code for West parties, but he takes one look at me and says, "Perfect."
His mother is at work and his Dad is watching tv, so he tells me to wait in his room while he has a quick shower. I sit on the bed, just on my phone, when the door opens and his brother walks in. You can tell it's his brother, though this is the first time I've actually seen him as a person, not a shape in a bed.
"Hi," I say, just making sure he knows I'm there.
"Hi." Even his voice is similar to Nathan's. He's skinnier though, ganglier and his hair is lighter, almost blonde. He doesn't look at me, starts rummaging in some drawers for clothes, opens the closet, rummages in there.
The door barges open, Nathan's whistling, but I don't recognize the tune. His hair is wet, he has a striped towel around his neck, just wearing boxer briefs.
"Ben!" he exclaims and shakes his wet head near him.
"Get dressed would ya," Ben replies in a voice of disgust.
Nathan elbows him, pushes him out of the way, comes and sits next to me before Ben gets a chance to react. "This is Magdala," Nathan says. Ben raises his eyebrows at me, but looks away when Nathan kisses my forehead. Then he kisses my lips.
"Give it a rest," Ben says, holding a bunch of clothes and going to the door. "You coming home tonight?"
"Yeah," Nathan answers, as if it's a given.
"Well, try not to cause a frigging earthquake," he says as he scoots for the door. Nathan picks up his shoe and throws it at him as the door slams, both of them laughing. The door opens a crack and Ben signals the finger. Nathan throws another shoe at him, calls, "Fuck off."
"Do you two always fight?" I ask.
"Always," he grins. "Did I tell you how beautiful you are?"
He uses the towel to dry his hair a bit, drops it on the floor, pushes me back onto the bed, lifts my dress, pulls my panties down to my knees.
"He won't come back in, will he?" I ask.
Nathan shakes his head. He pulls down his boxers, just to his knees. "I won't ruin the dress will I? Should I take it off?"
I shake my head. It's a knit fabric, doesn't crease. I like that he asks. He kisses me. Lips, face, neck. He reaches for his phone, which is by the pillow, rings Tom.
"What time you coming by?" He keeps touching me, says, "Okay." Tosses the phone aside.
"There's no rush," he says, pushing his underwear off, kneels on the floor, his tongue tantalizing me, every nerve ending on high alert, nerve endings I never knew existed. I bite my lip, trying not to squeal, to moan, grip hold of the Ferrari cover, then his neck, his hair.
"Easy," he coos, "don't fucking pull my hair out." He laughs, comes up. He's ready, enters me, hard, sweat on his forehead, eyes glazed, panting. His mouth goes peculiar, turns downwards, his tongue pokes out when he's come, then he breaks into this sexy grin. The look of love. I smile.
He doesn't pull out of me, says, "This feels messy. Move with me." And it dawns on me that he didn't use a condom. He pulls me up, we shuffle a few steps together towards the box of tissues which is on the desk. I'm holding around his waist, laughing, he extends an arm, snatches at a couple of tissues, gently eases out of me, tissues at the ready. Passes me a few too. I wipe myself, and hand them back to him. He laughs, aims towards the waste paper basket and shoots them in. I frown. “Mom will empty it tomorrow.”
He holds my hand, pulls me into the kitchen where the oval dining table is set. Ben comes through from the lounge, says, "About time." Nathan pulls out a chair for me and I sit down. He goes to Ben, punches his arm and says, "What have we got?"
"Mac and cheese."
"You'll love Mom's Mac and cheese," Nathan says to me, "it's the best."
His Dad comes in from the lounge. "Hello Magdala," he says.
"Hello Mr Stratton," I say, demurely, but I'm anything but. Just ten minutes ago my dress was up around my neck and my underwear were down around my ankles, and I feel embarrassed because they both must know, Ben and his father, what we were doing in there, while they were out here waiting for dinner. I can tell Nathan doesn't give a shit though, he looks smug, content. Ben pours me a glass of water, but I don't make eye contact. Nathan puts a plate in front of me. He stands behind me, strokes my hair, then kisses the top of my head. His father and brother are watching. Then he puts his own plate on the table. He does everything with such carefree ease, sits down, and kisses my cheek. I've come to expect it, all his adulation and attention, his constant touch, but his father and brother I notice are still watching him, like they're enthralled by his behavior.
"Salt and pepper, Ben," Nathan says, and it's like they snap out of it, and Ben sits across from me and his father takes his plate into the lounge. Nathan and Ben talk about the party, who's going, what's happening.
"You drinking?" Ben asks him.
"No I'm working tomorrow," Nathan says. "You?"
"Working too," he says. I'm pretty sure Ben works in fast food, he's the same age as me.
"Do you work Magdala?" Ben asks me.
Nathan answers for me, "She doesn't have time to work. She plays the piano."
Ben looks up at me.
"Like plays it properly," Nathan explains, "practices hours a day, exams and stuff."
"Oh," Ben says. "Like in a band?"
I shake my head, "Classical stuff," I say, "it's pretty boring."
"And she surfs," Nathan says.
"Cool," Ben replies. I just smile. I don't need to talk when I'm with Nathan. I kind of love the way he talks for me. He sounds so proud. He makes me sound more interesting than I really am.
I never considered myself to be exceptional in any way. In a way I've always felt like I was an extension of Cassian and Jakey and Raff, because we'd always hung out together. It was only when starting at Briarwood that I branched out on my own, was forced to, and even then I'd found it hard to make good friends because I'd never hung out with girls before. Cash and Jakey seemed to accept that I tagged onto them wherever they went, and they always looked out for me.
Dating Stacey Portman had, in a way, been my coming out, had been my first taste of independence, my escape from the fold. And when it failed I had just slotted right back in with the boys, as if nothing had happened, as if I hadn't just experienced my first heartbreak. Dad was pragmatic in that way too. His attitude was to just get on with things. Stacey cheated on you? You don't fucking need him then, just move on, there's someone better out there for you. Dad didn't really tolerate moping and self pity, obviously something in his past had hardened him up, but he never really talked about his life growing up. Mind you, he'd watched Cassian's Mom die and then moved on with my mother within months, so it's like he followed his own advice.
Sitting in Nathan's kitchen, eating dinner with his brother felt
nice, it felt comfortable. His whole house was probably only the size of our ground floor, but that didn't bother me. The neighborhood he lived in didn't bother me. What mattered was that he loved me, wanted me, and he didn't seem impressed that I went to a private school or lived in Beverly or that my car was worth more than both of his parents' cars put together. In fact he'd been more impressed by the fact that Rocky the family dog had come and sniffed me and then sat down next to me, apparently giving his approval. That, in Nathan's words, meant I was a keeper, Rocky was a fussy dog.
NATHAN
I'm excited to take Magdala to the party because I want all my friends to meet her. I know they'll wonder what she sees in me, why a hot Beverly babe is even remotely interested in someone like me. I'm not the best looking of our Team, as we call ourselves, Tom is. He's your typical blue eyed, blonde Californian and he dresses better than the rest of us. By that I mean more expensive. Luke, like me, is kind of rough around the edges, and Dane has been goth since freshman. He has dyed black hair, multiple piercings and wears long black coats and Doc Martins, but still hangs with us because he says the goths are boring and melancholic. We're standing around in the backyard and Magdala finishes her beer even before I do, citing the heat and humidity have made her thirsty. It has been unseasonably warm this week. After she finishes her second one, she says her head is all spinny, and she starts talking too much and laughs at everything anybody says. I can see the boys are amused by her.
"We should go for a swim," she says, "it's so hot."
"There's no pool," I say, thinking that maybe the alcohol has made her heat up. Dane has now given her a vodka pre-mix.
"Shall we fuck then?" she asks, taking hold of my arm and looking up at me, her eyes glazed in the beginning stages of drunkenness. "Come on, Nathan, shall we?"
The boys start laughing, and this makes Magdala laugh too, she revels in it.
"Maybe later," I tell her and she pouts at me.
Some guys are throwing a football around the yard, Magdala wants to join in. Surprisingly she has a good arm on her and I imagine if she wasn't drunk she'd be able to catch too. She's chuckling away, chasing guys for tackles, it's all good fun, until she trips and falls. Her legs splay open, her panties visible, but she's still laughing. I quickly help her up before anyone can stare for too long, because believe me, they are.
"You okay?" I ask.
She grins sheepishly. "I might have a bit of dirt on my knees," she says, inspecting her legs.
"They're fine," I say, brushing at them. She wraps her arms around me.
"I love you Nathan," she says.
"I know you do," I say, and I can't help but smile.
She goes and finds the bathroom and I wait outside.
"I can't fucking believe how much she's into you," Dane says. He's now smoking a cigarette. "You did good there, Nate." He slaps my back.
I laugh. "She's the best."
"She's hot as fucking hell!" Luke says. Someone tosses him a basketball and he throws it back and we end up in a game of three aside. I see Magdala come out and join back in the football game and I can see Tom, Stevie and Kara playing so I don't worry about her, I can see she's having fun. We boys have worked up a sweat and someone turns on a hose and we end up in a water fight, which sounds juvenile but it really is hot as hell. I don't realize how much time has passed until Kara comes up to me, tugs at my damp shirt and says, "Some guy's here for Magdala."
I follow her around to the front of the house and Magdala is sitting on the driveway, the football game still happening on the front lawn. Jakey, her cousin is standing over her, I wonder where he's come from and why. I see him take hold of her hand and pull her up, so I run towards her, and immediately drape my arm over her shoulder.
"Hey, what's going on?" I ask frantically. Jakey glares at me, the look in his eyes shows that he doesn't like me, well that he fucking hates me.
"What the fuck's happening here?" he growls.
"Look," Magdala says, in the innocent voice of one who is drunk and has no idea what is going on, "my dress got ripped when I got tackled." And she holds up the hem of it, revealing a long tear, holds it right up to my face so that her panties are exposed. I quickly force it down, but she holds it up again, examining the damage. "This is my favorite dress," she says as I smooth it down and I mumble, "I'll get it fixed for you."
"Why is she so fucking drunk?" Again Jakey delivers me a stare, "and where the fuck were you?"
"Jakey did you bring me another dress?" she asks, "I asked you to bring me another dress."
"I'm fucking taking you home Magdala," he says and looks at me. "This is fucking ridiculous, she's as drunk as fuck and you let her play around and you're nowhere to be seen. Any fucking thing could've happened to her."
"Nathan was playing basketball," Magdala slurs as she reaches out to Jakey's shoulder. "He was playing basketball and I was playing football. I'm good at football Jakey, I can throw it from one end of the garden all the way..."
"Where are your fucking shoes Magdala?" he interrupts, as he hooks his arm in hers.
"Where are my fucking shoes Nathan?" she repeats. I have no idea where her fucking shoes are.
"Hey, it's all right," I say, coming in front of Jakey, "we'll take Magdala home. My friend Tom is going to take us."
"I'm not fucking leaving her here, in this fucking neighborhood," Jakey says, his voice hostile and condescending, "with this fucking scum."
I should feel insulted, but more than anything I just don't want Magdala to leave. Stevie and Kara are suddenly by my side. Kara has Magdala's shoes and she hands them to Magdala.
"Look Jakey, I got my shoes," she says. "Shall I put them on?"
"Just fucking walk Magdala," he commands and he leads her to his car, a white BMW, which is definitely out of place in this part of town. There's a girl sitting in the front seat. Jakey opens the back door for Magdala and directs, "Get in."
"Are you coming Nathan?" Magdala asks.
"No, he fucking isn't," Jakey says, again just glaring at me. "Buckle up."
"Hey really," I say in desperation, "we'll take Magdala home later." Though I know he's not listening to me. He slams Magdala's door shut.
"Hey," he says, and his voice is low, threatening, "don't fuck with me. You fucking hurt Magdala and I'll come after you."
I don't know what to say, have no reply, as if I'd ever hurt Magdala, would never consider it.
"You need to learn how to treat a girl properly, you fucking white trash," he seethes, opening his door and getting in, again leaving me speechless, with no response at all. Magdala opens her door and calls, "Kiss me Nathan."
I bend down and touch her chin. "Hey I'm sorry, I wanted to take you home," I whisper.
"Jakey's going to get me a new dress," she says and I can't help but laugh, because I know she is wasted. Jakey has turned around and is watching. "I love you," I say.
"I love you Nathan Stratton," she says and I kiss her and Jakey starts up the car, and I barely get to close her door before he drives off.
MAGDALA
I'm having dinner at Jakey's house, Aunt Kate is making a seafood paella, which is probably my favorite food. Jakey and I are sitting out by the pool, but neither of us are swimming.
"So what's with Nathan?" he asks nonchalantly, after just giving me a play by play on the Clippers game last night, as if I was interested in it.
I give a shrug. "Love him," I say flippantly.
"What? Like you loved Stacey Portman?" he sneers.
I give him a face. "Yeah, well," I say indignantly, "may have made an...error in judgment with that one."
"Error in judgment?" Jakey laughs, "that sounds about right!"
"Nathan is different," I declare.
He pauses, picks up his can of drink from the ground and says in a low voice, "He's white trash Magdala." I narrow my eyes at him, feel upset, pout at him. "What do you see in him?" Jakey asks, his tone less severe, he knows he's hurt me. I don't reply for a second, try
ing to think of a careful answer. Jakey is supposed to be my best friend, he's supposed to be supportive, caring, not tearing my boyfriend to shreds.
I've considered Jakey to be my best friend since I was seven and he was eight. That was the year that both our parents were having relationship and financial issues. Dad, Cassian and I moved in with Grandad Chris on the ranch because Dad was studying at that time, only working part time and couldn't always have a sitter to watch us. Aunt Kate had just broken up with Jakey and Raff's father, so they moved to the ranch as well. We all ended up staying there for eighteen months. In that time the four of us all hung out, but it was Jakey and I who became the closest. I was the one who started called him Jakey when I was just little. His name's Jacob, but it was shortened to Jake, then, the story goes that as a three year old I called him Jakey, and it stuck.
Jakey's kind of reckless, a little rebellious, in contrast to Cassian who is strong, constant, reliable, sensible, just as an older brother should be. We never did anything bad, but Jakey liked to push boundaries, live on the edge, make a little mischief when we lived at the ranch and I could always be relied on to be his co-conspirator. Raff, who is the same age as me, was always shyer, quieter, he liked computers and books, rather than sports and horses.
"You wouldn't understand," I say with a wave of my hand and a shake of my head. Because what does he know about relationships? He's never had one last more than a handful of dates.
"He got you fucking drunk Magdala," he says. "Anything could have happened."
"Well it didn't," I reply defensively, "and he didn't get me drunk. I made my own decision to drink."
"Well it wasn't your smartest move," he says. "Did you tell Trey?"
I shake my head. Luckily for me the next day Dad had taken Damon and Dominique to the ranch so I never saw him until the evening, by which time I'd slept off my hangover.
"I don't fucking trust him," Jakey says, "why do you even like him?"