by Kristi Ayers
Chapter 8
Max
I rushed to hide the underwear that Douglas piled on his bed like a snow-capped mountain. Thankfully, they were all clean; he just had a bad habit of never putting anything away like a civilized person. Most of his dresser drawers were full of video games rather than clothes. Just as I hid the last assaulting item of his belongings, I heard the door click open.
She stood by Douglas, looking shy and nervous and wearing an outfit fit for someone that planned to jog on a chilly afternoon. She was stunning. Her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, accentuating her face and hazel eyes. I could stare for the rest of eternity into those eyes and never get distracted.
Douglas cleared his throat, strolling into our room. “You two kids have fun and I will,” he looked past me, “try to find what you did with my wardrobe.”
“If that’s what you call your wardrobe, then I’m moving out,” I quipped. He chuckled, knowing full well what I had to put away, and ushered me out the door. I looked down at Holland. “Hi.”
“Hi.” She smiled up at me.
“We need to stop by Adam’s for a second. I didn’t grab everything I needed earlier.” And that was because Adam was being a prick. Specifically, about Holland, and I wasn’t thrilled to go back there so soon. Not after I vehemently threatened him.
~*~
The minute I’d walked into the house that morning, Adam’s smug smile told me he knew I’d just seen Holland leave from there. He felt he had one up on me, and that alone made me bristle. I planned to leave it well alone until he kept spouting misleading comments. All lies. He didn’t know Holland already cleared things up.
“Damn, I’m tired today.” He faked a dramatic yawn and arm stretch. “Long night.”
I ignored him and searched for my skateboard.
“Yeah, so Holland stayed with me last night.” He was casting out a hook now. I wasn’t going to bite. Just need to find my skateboard and leave. “You know, she’ll have to stay over here more often. Any girl who doesn’t snore is gold.”
My breath hitched. The unwanted visual of the two of them snuggled up to each other was like a cut to my psyche. He saw me pause in the search for my damned skateboard that should have been in plain sight. Between my inability to find it and Adam’s taunting, I was losing my cool. I just wanted out of there.
“I’ll never forget the way she looked at me when she first woke up, that sleepy want in her eyes…” He slid into my line of vision, a Cheshire-grin on his face.
“She doesn’t want you.” It slipped right out of my mouth before I could determine that he’d take it as a challenge.
“Oh no? She looked rather intrigued when I admitted my attraction for her in high school. Something well past childish puppy love.”
I was pretty sure my heart stopped. How was I supposed to compete with history? I pushed aside some boxes to find my skateboard and strode meaningfully to the front door, equally irked from his comment and the fact that my board was carelessly covered with boxes as if I didn’t ride it every free minute I had.
“Maybe she’d let Bex join sometime…”
That was it. He had crossed the line and I’d had enough. He wasn’t going to insult Holland by assuming she was into threesomes. I knew Holland thought more of herself than that. I turned abruptly and spat, “Your filthy hands better not touch her.”
He crossed his arms and stood tall, a fervent look on his face. “I’d never deny her anything she wanted.”
I got into his face. “You hurt her, and you’ll regret it.” My face felt hot, my fist itching to punch something. Him. I wanted to punch him, but he was my friend who had a lot of mental baggage he’d never asked for, and it felt wrong. An angry spark lit in his eyes and he pushed me. It was with an extraordinary amount of restraint that I took a step back, and another, my eyes hard on his.
He followed me, slowly, tauntingly. “It’s all her decision. All. Hers.”
I slammed the door in his face, completely forgetting my plans to grab two skateboards instead of just the one.
~*~
Holland and I stepped onto Adam’s porch and I immediately checked to see if my board was where I’d left it. The moment I slammed the door earlier today was when I realized my mistake of only grabbing one board, so in a fit of anger, I threw it into a bush beside his porch. I debated even returning for any of it. I was so close to chucking the idea and just taking her on a typical dinner and movie date. But something told me the end-result would be worth the trouble.
My hope was that Adam would be out somewhere when I came back. My disillusioned mind assumed we could be in, out, and on our way, but his voice greeted us, as did his blatant lack of clothing.
“Ah, Holland, come in. Did you manage to catch up on any sleep today?” He stood in his boxer-briefs, a famous name sewed in white on the elastic, blaring opposite the black fabric. He had a drink in one hand, and from the sway of his gait as he approached us, it wasn’t his first one.
Holland was stunned into mute embarrassment. She looked at him wide-eyed for a few seconds before glancing away, obviously uncomfortable.
I looked at Adam. He was staring at Holland and I couldn’t say I blamed him. She was wearing black yoga pants, an off-white long-sleeve shirt, and tennis shoes. His eyebrow twitched—it seemed he liked what he was seeing as his eyes roved over her flat stomach, small hips, and slowly rose to her breasts, where he lingered.
I touched Holland’s elbow. “I just need to grab one thing.”
“Can I make you a drink, Holland?” He’d finally met her eyes and held them.
She shook her head. “Twelve thirty is too early for me.”
“There you go again with those time restraints. Nothing is too early.”
I noticed he was looking at me when he said that last part. It was equivalent to bluffing a perfect hand of cards, confident he was going to win. Regrettably, I had no idea what cards he held when it came to Holland.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Holland. Then I met Adam’s gaze. “It will just take a second.”
“I think I’ll just wait outside,” she said as she started to turn.
“No-no-no.” Adam approached her. “You can sit on my couch. The same one you liked last night.” He pulled her by the hand to the living room. It killed me to leave her alone with him, but at least I could hear them talking. My ears homed in on their voices as I dug in a closet for my old skateboard.
“Um, Adam? It’s like fifty degrees outside. Why don’t you have clothes on?”
He chuckled. “Do I make you nervous, Holland?”
“Well, it’s just—”
“Isn’t it fascinating how the last three years chewed us up and spit us out here?” he mused. “Holland, it’s okay to look at me. There. That’s better. Those eyes haunted me long after I moved away. I’d wanted you so bad.”
I tore the closet up in such a rush, it looked like an explosive hit it, but I finally found my old board. I had to get back out there fast because I couldn’t take much more of Adam’s warped seduction, not to mention how uncomfortable Holland must have been. “Okay,” I announced, “we’re all set. Let’s go.” I walked into the sun-lit living room to see Adam gazing into a very frozen Holland’s eyes. He had maneuvered himself close enough to kiss her and probably would have tried if I hadn’t appeared.
She blinked and looked grateful I was quick with my task. “Okay, let’s go.” She didn’t even care to know what I had in my hand, the reason for our visit. She walked to the door, appearing rattled and dazed. Adam leaned back on the couch, chuckling softly.
Outside, I grabbed the other board, but it wasn’t until we were quite a few yards away before she asked the reason why we had to stop by Adam’s in the first place, still a little bit inside her own head.
“For these.” I held up the boards.
Her brows furrowed after a few disconnected blinks. And then she was back with me. “Skateboarding? Where at?”
“At a nearby skate park.” I swa
llowed, suddenly apprehensive about the whole thing until she smiled, and an excited twinkle glistened in her eyes.
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to ride one. This is fantastic!”
I finally exhaled with relief that today wasn’t going to be a bust.
We caught a bus to the park. She looked out the window at everything passing by, seeming much like a typical tourist, but my eyes were looking only at her because nothing outside matched her allure. Sitting so close to her, I could smell the intoxicating scent that was uniquely Holland, a mix of honey and vanilla with a hint of flowers.
The park wasn’t too crowded, and the people that were there appeared to be the regulars. They seemed to stay on the difficult jumps, leaving me space to teach Holland on a flat surface. We’d only have to worry about a rogue roller-blader.
“So,” she smiled up at me, “are you going to give me a demo like those guys?” She pointed at a few that were going up ramps and standing on one hand before riding back down.
I didn’t want to appear like a show-off, so I dropped both boards where we were, chuckling a little. “Maybe later. I want to have you find your balance on one first. I brought you here to have fun, not to be a spectator.” I gave her a wink and held my hand out to help her onto the board. She was shaky and gripped my hand like her life depended on it. “Just relax. Bend your knees some. There, that’s good. Now push with one foot.” Her hand squeezed mine again, hard. “I’ve got you,” I told her softly. She rode for a few wobbly yards, me following closely, before she looked over at me and lost all concentration, tipping like a domino. My hands quickly grasped her waist, stabilizing her before she had a chance to fall and knock out any teeth.
A blush crept across her cheeks. “Thanks. That would have been horrible if I’d bit the dirt.”
“Concrete. And biting it would have hurt like hell.” She absorbed that visual and shivered. “But I’d never let that happen.” Her blush grew deeper. I realized my hands were still on her waist, so I removed them.
I jogged over to retrieve my board and joined her again. “Okay, I’ll let you watch me now. Notice where I bend and what I do with my arms to keep balance.” I pushed off and demonstrated. She watched closely with a mix of wonderment and critical study, and I found I loved having her eyes on me.
I did a kickflip, slid down a railing, and took it over to get some air on one of the ramps, nothing too crazy, before I rolled back over to her, my eyes never leaving her face. “Okay, you ready to do all that?” I winked to show that I was only teasing.
“Um, yeah. Be sure to record my jumps for YouTube.”
I chuckled and then helped her back on the board. We spent another hour practicing, and I had to admit, she was a quick learner. Aside from jumps, she could ride the hell out of the board for it being her first time. I was impressed.
“Now, are you ready for the next part of the day?”
Her eyes widened. “What are we doing? I may not be dressed for it.”
I laughed, knowing if she “wasn’t dressed for it,” then I certainly wasn’t either, but like that mattered. Spending time together was what mattered. “You’re absolutely fine. Come on.”
I took her to a casual diner on the boardwalk for an early dinner. I didn’t want to miss twilight along the boardwalk because the atmosphere was epic. People came alive as lights glowed amber, signaling the time to let loose. The sound of undulating water from the ocean was nothing short of hypnotic.
“I’m happy you brought me to this diner. The food is phenomenal. You don’t find this much flavor in chain restaurants,” Holland commented as she dug into her turkey, apple, and brie open-faced sandwich. I agreed. That was certainly a fact that kept me on the lookout for places that offered authentic, secret hundred-year-old recipes that looked like artwork but tasted like heaven.
When we finished our meals, I led her out on the boardwalk. Destination: sandy beach with mesmerizing ocean waves, the perfect place to just sit and talk. Thankfully, it wasn’t too chilly just yet. The sky was just starting to darken, sending streaks of purple and grey that met against fading salmon hues from the west.
“So our other gig is tonight at a frat party. Do you happen to own a costume?”
“A costume?” Her brow furrowed. “Why would I need one for a party?”
I pulled on a paper bat dangling from a storefront. “Hint number one.” I then pointed to a jack o’ lantern sitting in a window, its face aflame with faux candlesticks. “Hint number two.”
“Okay, so Halloween is coming up in a few days. I get that part.”
“You, my friend, are going to a costume party. That is, if you want to.”
“Oh!” It finally clicked for her. “I went to a community college before coming here. No one had parties—that I knew of. The last time I got to dress up was for a middle school dance.”
“Well, I guess we’ll need to come up with something for you to wear. We’re on at ten, so we’ve got plenty of time.” I led her off the boardwalk and onto the sand. She watched everything around her, drinking it in with a sweet curve of her lips and slow, relaxed stride. I veered us toward the water, inhaling the crisp salty scent and wishing it had been warm enough to put our feet in the water. A few people wrapped in blankets relaxed in lounge chairs reading books. A few feet from the lapping water, Holland stiffened beside me, a pained look battling in her eyes, or rather behind them in her mind’s eye.
I stopped. “What’s wrong?”
She swallowed. Then she glanced out at the ocean but quickly drove her eyes right back to the beach, down to her feet. “I… Sorry, I just need a moment.” She looked up at one of the bonfires in the distance, her eyes beginning to moisten. “My sister. It’s still hard—” She inhaled a deep breath before continuing. “She drowned in the ocean. With her fiancé. Their boat capsized.” She was close to breaking down.
“You don’t have to say any more. Come on.” I led her away, my hand on the small of her back and my heart ripping at the tragedy she had to have faced. I had the urge, so I went with it, and slid my hand into hers, hoping I wasn’t pushing her. When we got to the storefronts, I led her into a gag gift store. It had costumes and funny, unique gifts; the absolute perfect distraction I could offer. Inside, I reluctantly let go of her hand so she could browse, but the warmth left behind made such an imprint on my soul. She was beautiful. Illuminating. Just watching her eyes sparkle at the different costumes was something I could watch all night.
“What about this one?” She held up one with a slightly creepy broken doll theme.
“Try it on.” I smiled and nodded my head toward the dressing rooms.
She paused for a second, thoughtfully regarding it, then said, “Okay.”
“You have to show me, you know that, right?” I teased.
She halted, inspecting the picture on it. It had what was supposed to be a creepy melancholic doll, but the busty woman squashed that look with one of haughty sex appeal. “Maybe another would be better…” She started to hang it back up, but I put my hand on it.
“You don’t have to show me. I already know it’d look great on you.” She looked relieved to not have to model it solely in front of me. “Let me buy it for you since I invited you last minute to a party that requires costumes.”
“Ha! No. I will get it, silly.”
I let her complete her purchase but felt bad about springing a party on her last minute. In my defense, I assumed most girls had costumes crammed in their closets. My sisters all had at least three each.
Chapter 9
Holland
Violet stood behind me in our room, chewing painfully on her lip as I applied my “broken porcelain doll” makeup. I painted my face white and drew a black fissure down my forehead and cheek. Done and ready!
“For heaven’s sake, let me put fake lashes on you. Yours are nice, but you need bigger eyes to be a doll.”
I sighed and faced her, handing over my life. She beamed and got right to work. She also redid my shado
w and lined my eyes, creating a smoky look. The fake lashes did give me what I’d been lacking, and soon I was the epitome of a real doll, only living, breathing, and slightly nervous. “I haven’t been to a party in forever. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”
“You know I have that other frat party to go to because Eli will be there.” She saw the disappointment on my face. “But I’ll try to stop by if I can.”
“I’ll be there with Adam, Max, and Douglas. I’ll be fine.” I sighed, remembering the friction between Adam and Max. “There’s tension between them and I think it’s because of me.”
“Well, yeah. They both want you.”
That seemed like an emerging reality at this point.
I met Max and Douglas downstairs at the entrance of the building, or I thought those were the correct two guys. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure as I walked up to Iron Man and Captain Jack Sparrow. When “Jack” smiled at me, I knew I had found the right pair of friends.
“Wow, guys, you went all out.” Iron Man (Douglas) was the typical red body suit with a mask, nothing that took a long time to put together. But Max had the full pirate costume, red bandana, long dreadlocked and beaded hair, and smoky eye makeup. He wore four rings and a shredded wristband, and above that were white cuffs to the low-cut, airy shirt he had on under his pirate jacket. Even the goatee looked like he grew it himself within a matter of two hours.
What he didn’t know was I’d been in complete fictional love with Captain Jack for years. I owned all the movies, and at one point, posters adorned all four of my walls. My knees went weak just looking at him, and I momentarily forgot how to form words. What are words?
Apparently, he was in awe too, his eyes taking in my costume and coming back up to lock with mine. “You look amazing,” he breathed.
I got lost in his smoky sapphire eyes. “Thank you.”
“Okay, kids, we need to go if we’re going to be there on time.” Douglas picked up his bass and small amp. Had he been practicing in his dorm room? Max did the same with a guitar I’d not seen before, causing me to become curious.