by D. C. Renee
“Apparently, she doesn’t mind when people listen to her play because she’s that good and people come to listen. But that’s about the only area she’s confident in.” At least that much was true.
“Don’t worry, guys, I got this. I’ll have her talking up a storm in no time. Just, Kim, an opening line, please?”
I really didn’t have a good one. “Compliment her music, but maybe do it in a subtle way. Like, I don’t know, tell her that the emotions she brought out in it mirror your own.”
“Hey, that’s some good shit.” Travis nodded.
“Atta boy!” I said before sending him off.
“Oh, no! Worse! Much worse than last time.”
“Really?” I turned to Brent to see him shaking his head vehemently.
“Really,” he stated.
“I hate you guys!”
“You love us,” they both practically said in unison.
And then we went to listen to Abbi play the violin. And damn was she good. My opening line for Travis wasn’t even a joke. She played some classical piece that was vaguely familiar to me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. And it was amazing. It was up and down, and high and low, hard hitting, yet not. And she made it look effortless like it was nothing. If I could play like that, then I would walk around the school as if I was the shit. Yes, I tended to even think in 90s slang, not just speak it.
We waited patiently and when she was done, no one approached but Travis. I swore he walked slowly, hesitantly even, but whatever got him to her. We heard him say his line, and he delivered it so smoothly. It made me proud. But she didn’t even look at him. Burn.
She went about getting her things while Travis tried to tell her how great she was and the entire time she just kept ignoring him. He tried and tried, and she wouldn’t budge as if he wasn’t even there. I could see his frustration and that was when he started getting all sexual innuendo on her. Oh, God, no!
“If you want to practice some more, I have a really nice piece of equipment you can practice on.” That was so bad I couldn’t hold in my laughter and neither could Brent. And then there were more and that kept us going.
“Are you playing the violin or are you playing hard to get? Because I can work with hard.”
“Maybe you can make some sweet, sweet music with me.”
“We can record you playing and use it as background music for when I make you sing.”
Oh, the cheesiness wouldn’t stop, and I could practically see steam coming out of Travis’ ears. Poor, poor girl having to endure him. But damn, this was hilarious. Not necessarily the Travis being shot down part but the horrible pick-up lines. Who knew he was such a cheeseball? Smooth Travis was currently a dud.
And then the unexpected happened. Little Miss Meek apparently wasn’t so meek. She burst out laughing. She laughed so hard she was doubling over. If I weren't so shocked, then I would have fallen over myself. Travis stood dazed, and Brent grabbed my hand. What the hell was happening?
“Oh my God, you suck,” she finally spoke. She had such a soft voice; I could barely hear her.
“Uh, thanks?” Travis answered.
“No, I mean you really suck. This is why I took a vow of silence, but I couldn’t hold it any longer. I needed you to stop. My ears were starting to bleed.”
“Vow of silence, huh?”
“Oh, God,” she said as she still laughed. Well, looky there, she thought his lines were just as horrendous as we did.
“Come on, really? ‘Want to play my violin? You can stroke my keys anytime you want.’ Seriously, how the hell do you get girls?”
“Wait, what?” Travis asked, but even he was smiling. At least he knew his lines sucked.
“I know who you are. I know all about you. It was guys like you who had me keeping my mouth shut. I couldn’t handle listening to them speak, so I figured if I didn’t answer back, they’d leave me alone. It kind of transcended into other people after a while, too. Come on, you’ve heard me play. I’m one of a kind. I’m no match for any of you losers. I have to come to this school because my parents thought it would be good for me to mingle with the common folk. But I am so much better than any of you. I am going to be something special. I ignore you because you’re beneath me. I don’t even want to acknowledge you. And you proved my point Mr. ‘I’ll give you a violin right here.’ Now, go. Shoo. Get out of my breathing space. You’re contaminating it.”
Well, hot damn, little Miss Quiet apparently had no issues at all. At least not with herself. She was clearly damaged, though, and a little too high up on her pedestal.
And this was all fun and games when Travis was being an idiot, but no one talked to my friend that way. No one, not Miss High-And-No-Right-To-Be-Mighty. No one!
So before Travis could even respond, I stepped up to the plate. “Abbi, is it?”
“Oh great, another worshiper. Come, give me the ‘your music is so great speech.’”
“You know what, your music is great. It’s just such a shame it’s attached to such an undeserving, ungrateful bitch.”
Her head snapped back as if I had slapped her. Maybe I had. Maybe no one had talked to her like that before. Well, if she thought I was done, she had another thing coming. “That’s right, you are a pretentious bitch. And I think the reason you don’t speak to people is because once you open your mouth, they realize what a waste of space and talent you are and want nothing to do with you. You put on your little ‘airs’ because you know no one wants to be around you if they know the real you. This way, you actually get to hang around real people instead of your imaginary friends. You think Travis is contaminating the air you breathe? Oh, honey, you aren’t even high enough to breathe his air. You’re a tiny speck, a little peasant. He’s one of the best people you have ever had the pleasure of setting your eyes on, let alone being able to say you actually had the opportunity of speaking with him. I’d rather suck in his air if he were poison to me than even be anywhere near you. You’re a rotten human being. You’re scum. The only thing beneath us here is you and your lack of class. Grow up, get a life, and stop pretending you’re something you’re not. You’re not famous. You’re not a prima donna. You’re not even special. Come on, guys. Let’s leave before we catch whatever bitch bug crawled up her fucked-up ass.” It might not have been the classiest speech or even the best, but I was riled up and I was on a rambling roll. And like I said, no one spoke to my friends that way. Fuck her. I stormed away.
chapter sixteen
I barely registered Brent and Travis calling after me as I made my way across campus.
“Kim, damn, where are this speed and energy when we work out?” Travis laughed as they caught up to me.
“Ugh! Who does she think she is?” I ranted as Brent still held onto my arm after stopping me midstride.
“Just some stuck-up bitch,” Travis retorted.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Brent added.
“Are you serious?” I asked them. “Trav, how are you not pissed? That stupid idiot just totally bashed you.”
“Yeah, and then you bashed her. Quite nicely, I might add. Thanks for defending my honor.” He tried to smirk, but it ended up more like a smile, one that reached his eyes, and my anger quickly deflated.
“I can’t believe you aren’t pissed.”
“Why would I be? She doesn’t matter to me. She caught me off guard at first, and then I was just shocked. So she doesn’t think I’m hot shit? Big deal. There are plenty of others who do.”
“I just couldn’t stand by and watch her talk shit to you as if you were nothing. You are far from nothing. You are funny, and kind, and easygoing. Sure, you have some man whore ways about you, but fuck, you are in college, you’re young, and you are supposed to be that way. Doesn’t mean she or any other girl has to like it, but they can’t hold it against you. You’re great. You’re a wonderful friend to a girl, by the way, and an amazing guy. I just can’t believe she couldn’t see that and had the audacity to act as if she owns the world and you
are just a speck in her realm. She was lucky that you even gave her the time of day,” I huffed.
I stood there panting as if I had run a few miles. Er, maybe a mile, considering it was me, of course. And the next thing I knew, I was enveloped in a big, strong, warm hug. I was startled for only a moment before I realized Travis had wrapped his arms around me. He was holding me tight like if he let me go, I might disappear. My hands were at my sides, and I was kind of in shock. Sure, Travis had touched me but never like this. It was in a flirting way or a gentlemanly way, or even when he tried to get my attention or help me work out. But this was the first hug I got from him, at least that I could remember.
I took a moment to breathe him in; he smelled like a hint of spice mixed with something woodsy. He squeezed me a little tighter, and I felt awkward with my hands at my side, so I lifted them tentatively before I hugged him back.
“Thank you,” he whispered into my hair.
“For what?” For defending him to some evil witch? It was not as if he really needed it or cared; it looked like I was the one who was fuming from the ordeal more than either of the guys were.
“Just being you.” He said it so quietly that I had to strain to hear. I didn’t understand it, but I really didn’t have a response. I was dorky and opinionated, and loud, and clumsy, and a bunch of other things I didn’t think were all that, but if it floated Travis’ boat, who was I to complain?
He finally pulled away, and I felt cold suddenly. It was as if his touch was keeping me warm all along, and now that he was gone, so was the comfortable bubble I was in. He mumbled something under his breath, and if I were delusional, I would have thought he said something along the lines of me being the best. Well, duh! Glad he finally got it. Tee hee. I crack myself up. But I knew he hadn’t said that. It didn’t matter anyways, Brent cleared his throat, and the moment was broken regardless, even if it was just a moment in my head.
“I don’t know how you have survived college thus far without us.” Brent spoke first, clearly trying to break up whatever tension was just created since his words sounded slightly forced.
“What do you mean?” I added in my usual “all is peachy keen” voice since I didn’t want any more weird moments.
“Going all alpha on that chick makes me wonder how you haven’t had some bitch fights along the way. Wait, come to think of it, that might not be a bad idea. You and another girl, fighting dirty, shirts come off, clothes come off, add in some Jell-O. Yeah, I could picture that. Maybe we should step aside.” Brent laughed and Travis joined in.
“Now, that would be worth seeing Kim all pissed off.” Travis laughed, too.
“Any chance you feel like starting a fight now?”
“Yeah, with your face,” I joked back.
“Hey, now, what did my face ever do to you?”
Besides making my insides quiver when I look at you too closely? Oh, not much. “It hurts to look at your face.” I laughed. Because it’s too pretty, I added in my mind.
“Damn, girl’s on a roll.” Travis laughed.
“You can’t get me riled up and not expect some payback. Shit, have you checked out these guns?” I added, holding up my toothpick arms and attempting to display some muscle by holding the back of my arm with my other hand.
The guys were practically on the floor laughing.
I joined in. Somehow, they’d made a shitty moment into something fun and playful and they still managed to laugh at me. They were seriously the best. And they wondered why I would defend either of them against some wicked witch of the west?
“You are becoming two of my best friends. I love hanging out with you and spending time with you. You both look out for me and I know if shit ever hit the fan, you would be there for me in a heartbeat. Heck, you turn down chicks to hang out with me. If that doesn’t deserve my loyalty and me standing up for you, then I don’t know what does.”
“We know, Kim. We know,” Brent replied.
“And that’s why we lo-care about you and why we want to be there if shit hits the fan.” The tiny little slip of Travis’ didn’t go unnoticed. But I knew he thought it was probably weird to proclaim love for a girl, even if it was just platonic. He had probably never said the words to anyone other than family before. It was actually kind of funny thinking about him trying to say it to a girl for the first time. I imagined him stuttering, “I lo … I low … I … I … I la-ov … dammit, I love … you, I love you.” Ha, that would so be Travis.
“And that’s why I love you both.” I put on my big girl panties and said the words. I meant it as friends, but something about saying it out loud to both guys made my heart flutter for a moment. I just brushed it off and pulled them both into a hug. “Group hug,” I announced.
After a few seconds, Brent and Travis pulled away. “Uh, Kim, can I stop touching Brent now? He’s nice and all, but not really my type.” He laughed.
“Yeah, yeah, wiseass. I’m sure you’re not his type, either.”
“Psshhh, I’m everyone’s type.”
“No, man, really, you ain’t mine,” Brent added, smiling.
“Are you saying if you were into guys, you wouldn’t be into me?”
“Nope, your player ways would scare me away,” Brent added cleverly.
“Well, you couldn’t get this body even if you tried,” Travis scoffed. Yeah, he scoffed.
“Ah! You guys are giving me a headache. Let’s grab a bite to eat.” I pulled both their arms as we went to get sandwiches while they argued about who would want who if they were gay. And they thought I was entertaining? Better than cable TV, these two. Much better.
chapter seventeen
The next day, Travis convinced me that I needed to work out again. Seriously, why did I let these guys talk me into this shit? We were losing the bet thanks to Brent’s charm, and I was about to lose my dignity thanks to Travis’ smile. Oh, and did I mention that Travis still didn’t know we were setting him up with those fake Abbys? Brent promised just one more. I argued with him, especially after the last fiasco, but he just argued right back that we needed to end on a better note than that. So, after about a whole two minutes of me asserting myself and him deflecting every point I made, I caved. It was a hard fought battle, but clearly, he was the better man. Two minutes, folks! It had taken two minutes before I gave in. I’m pathetic.
And don’t even get me started on how quickly Travis got me to agree to work out with him. I think it went something like this: Travis asked me if I wanted to work out, I snorted, gracefully. He said it would be fun. I said, sure, for him. He took off his shirt and said he’d stay shirtless if I came with him. I didn’t think I formed a coherent thought as I nodded vigorously and salivated. Stupid abs. Stupid, stupid abs.
We had already walked three miles on the treadmill. Okay, I walked like a grandma, and Travis ran like ten miles in the time it took me to finish my three.
“So time to do some weights,” Travis announced.
“You mean I’m not done?” I panted.
“How are you having a hard time breathing? You walked! Three miles!” He raised his voice in shock. I didn’t have the energy to giggle in response.
“Yeah, well, being this out of shape isn’t easy. It takes skill and practice. You try wanting to die after walking a mile and then come talk to me.”
Travis just laughed and shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
“You. Just you.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m a riot.”
“You are. The things you say. The things you do. There is no one out there like you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied wryly.
“You should. It was totally meant to be one.”
“Oh, pssh, whatever. Let’s go do some butt blasts. I didn’t get to do that when I first came to the gym because I was too busy falling on my butt in front of you instead. Does that count as a butt blast?”
“Not sure.” He chuckled. “But I would love to work out your butt,” he a
dded.
“I’m sure you would, you perv, but I wouldn’t mind tightening my glutes. Is that what people say? God, I need to learn gym lingo.”
“So let’s go butt blast.”
“Don’t sound so happy.” He smirked in response.
“So you know what that machine does?” he asked as we approached.
“Uh, not quite.”
“Well, there are different kinds, but the one here has you sort of balancing with your butt facing partially up and then you have to kick a weight back with your leg. In other words, it’s flex, unflex, flex, unflex the entire time. And I get to watch. How can I not sound happy?”
“Ah, has poor wittle Travy wahvy not been getting any lately? And now he needs to see me flex to get his jollies?”
“If you only knew,” he muttered.
“All right fine, you can watch my butt. Damn, that sounded wrong, and maybe a little right.” I winked for effect.
“And you say I’m the flirt.”
“I never said I wasn’t. I just said I don’t act on it. You, on the other hand, get laid the minute you open your mouth.”
“I haven’t gotten you into bed,” he retorted.
“That’s because we’re friends. And you wouldn’t want me in bed even if we weren’t.”
“And why is that?” he asked, his eyebrows raising toward his hair.
“I’m not your type.”
“You’re a girl.”
“Oh God, do you really have such low standards? Any girl will do?”
“No, but a beautiful girl who is fun to be with, easygoing and not clingy, and can handle me? That’s my type. And I say you fall into all those categories.”
“Oh, you charmer, you,” I cooed and batted my eyelashes.
“And who says I don’t want to sleep with you just because you’re my friend?”
“Because you don’t do relationships and now that we’re friends, you wouldn’t just use me and toss me, would you? Oh, crap, you would, wouldn’t you?” I backpedaled.
“No, no. I wouldn’t, but that doesn’t mean I don’t find you attractive and want to take advantage of you sometimes, or rather, all the time. But I would never use you. You’re right. You’re my friend and I care about you. Probably more than I should,” he mumbled the last bit. “I wouldn’t be able to toss you even if I tried. I like being with you. You’re one of my best friends, and that’s saying something since Brent is the other and I’ve known him for most of my life. But I feel comfortable with you. I feel good around you. I can be myself without the whiplash most girls cause. It’s like hanging with one of the guys but better. You are much more appealing to the eyes.”