Flaw (The Flaw Series)

by Ryan Ringbloom

  The girls are chatting away when I return to the kitchen. Mindy, the girl I brought home, is the typical blonde, pretty girl with a banging body. The type I tend to gravitate towards. Glancing from Mindy over to Becca it’s hard not to notice a major difference between the two girls. Becca is a pretty pop of color. You have to be blind to miss her. Mindy is just another run of the mill, ordinary girl while Becca is a stand out. There isn’t one thing ordinary about Becca. You could line her up next to a hundred girls and she’d easily be the one who stood out. She turns and winks at me from in front of the stove before turning her attention back to the griddle to flip a pancake. Damn. I swallow. Make that a million girls.

  “So Joe,” Becca says loudly from her place at the stove. “Mindy was telling me how you guys met last night. Such a sweet story. I have a good feeling about you guys. Sounds to me like it might be a match made in heaven.”

  I sit down on the stool next to Mindy and Becca places a plate of pancakes down in front of me. Mindy slides the syrup over to me and rubs my leg under the counter. I gotta get out of here. I’ve never done a morning after before. Last night’s smeared make-up and stale scent is not appealing. “You live far from here?” I ask.

  “Not that far.” Mindy leans in and I back up. I catch the smile Becca tries to hide.

  “After you’re done eating I’ll call you a cab.” I need to shovel these pancakes in and get this girl on her way.

  Becca clears her throat and raises an eyebrow.

  “Or I’ll drive you to your house,” I say, looking over at Becca for approval.

  “Okay,” Mindy’s face lights up. “Maybe later we can go get dinner or something.”

  “Yeah, not sure about later, but definitely soon.” I nod my head as if I’m actually into the idea of ever seeing this girl again.

  “You should give her your number. That way she can call you or text you and you guys can set up that dinner for real soon.” Becca leans on the counter, resting her head on her hands, grinning away at me.

  Mindy takes her phone out and places her finger over the screen, waiting for my number. I don’t hesitate in giving her my standard fake number and she types it into her phone.

  “Send him a text,” Becca says. “Make sure you entered it in right.”

  My eyes dart over to Becca and she meets my glare. How the hell did she know the number I gave was fake? Did she just assume it? Mindy types a message into her phone, hits send, and waits for me to receive it.

  “My phone is in my room, I’ll be right back.” God damn, Becca. What the hell is she trying to prove here? I retrieve my phone that obviously does not have a text from Mindy on it and walk back into the kitchen.

  “Did you get it?” Mindy bubbles.

  “Yup.” I look down at the phone and smirk, pretending to read.

  “Read it out loud. What does it say?” Becca encourages.

  “I think I’ll keep this just between us.” I glance over at Mindy, who flashes me a devilish grin. I was right to presume that would be an acceptable response.

  Mindy excuses herself to visit the bathroom and the second she’s out of sight I let into Becca. “What the hell are you doing to me?” I ask in a harsh whisper. “You’re killing me here.”

  “Sorry Joe.” She laughs loudly at my alias. “I just don’t like seeing girls get treated like garbage. Guys like you who think they can just lie and toss girls aside like they’re nothing, well, I think they’re assholes. And it looks like you’re an asshole. Why is that?”

  “Okay, first of all I never told her my name was Joe. And secondly, I’m not an asshole.” Two lies. I am an asshole. I can’t think of one of other female who I’ve ever come in contact with, aside from my mother, who hasn’t referred to me as an asshole at one time or another. But I don’t want Becca saying it or thinking it about me.

  “Oh, so you’re gonna call her?”

  I grit my teeth together and let out an angry breath. “I might.”

  “Fine, I’m sorry. You’re not an asshole. Mindy’s lucky to have met a great guy like you.” She raises her shoulders as if to say “whatever,” and walks off, knocking lightly on Aidan’s door before stepping inside and closing the door to his room behind her.

  I bang my fist on the counter. Girls have said much worse to me and yet I’ve never been phased in the slightest. I usually don’t even flinch with stuff like this. I can’t believe how much I let her get under my skin just now.

  The door to Aidan’s room stays closed. I’m not sure if I’m angrier at the girl who just called me out or more jealous of the guy on the other side of that door.

  Aidan

  Becca marches around my room in a small tirade against some girl Josh banged last night. I try defending the guy but that only gets her more riled up. She finally calms down and climbs into my bed next me, burrowing under the covers.

  “The only reason I care is because it’s just so wrong to treat a girl that way. I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t had a boyfriend in a while, not since Patrick. Is that the way guys are treating girls now? It’s disgusting. It’s wrong.” She’s really wound up. Her arm flings around my chest and she wraps her leg over mine. “Isn’t it wrong to just lead someone on if you have no intention of ever being with that person?”

  I take a sharp intake of breath through my nose and hold it. Girls, relationships, hook-ups, those are things in my past. Things that were taken away from me.

  “Aidan.” Becca sits up, her voice softens to a sad whisper. “Is that what you think I’m doing with you?”

  “No,” I answer honestly. “Becca, I’ve never thought for one minute that we’re anything more than friends. I’ve never had any unrealistic expectations for us.”

  “I’ve thought about it, Aidan. Trust me. I’ve wondered many times what it would be like to kiss you.” She places her face down next to mine. “I’ve just never been sure if it was the right move for us.”

  I don’t say anything. Her lips are lined up to mine, close without touching. I’m not sure what she’s going to do. I’m relaxed. Comfortable with her closeness. She brings her lips to the base of my scar. The soft kiss she gives flutters over the jagged line carved into my skin. After a few seconds the kiss ends and she cradles her head back down under my arm so it lies by my side. I’m not disappointed to have ended things there. I’ve always understood where we stand. And I’d rather have her like this than not have her at all.

  “Do you want to go have some pancakes?” she asks after a long period of us just lying there in silence.

  “Yeah, I’m starving,” I say. She puts her arms around me and hugs tight. I know she’s wondering if it’s weird. I want to assure her it’s not. “Becca, I’m happy with the way things are with us. Everything with us always has been and always will be just fine.”

  There’s one more squeeze and a quick smile from her before she hops up from my bed, raring to go. “Okay, let’s go. Josh’s mom left a bag of chocolate chips in the freezer so you’re getting chocolate chip pancakes,” she says, beaming, bouncing from the room with me close behind.

  “Becca, you can’t just go taking his stuff. That’s his, leave it alone. Regular pancakes are fine.” I don’t need Josh getting all pissy with us over missing food. I gotta live with this guy.

  “I made pancakes for his date this morning. I think he can spare a few lousy chocolate chips.” Becca frowns, taking the bag of chocolate chips from the freezer, ignoring my request to leave them alone.

  “Weren’t you just yammering not an hour ago that you invited her and he didn’t? Can you please not provoke this guy? You can’t go pissing him off. With the three of us living so close it might make things uncomfortable for us.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She blows off what I’m saying and pours an enormous amount of chocolate chips into the batter she’s preparing.

  A few bites into my second pancake, Josh returns back to the apartment. He nods a “morning” in my direction then turns his gaze immediately onto Becca.

>   “Hey Josh, your date get home alright?” She grins over at him.

  “Just fine, Becks. Thank you for making us breakfast this morning. It was very kind of you.” They hold each other’s stare as Becca continues washing up the breakfast dishes and Josh takes out a carton of milk from the fridge. I can actually feel the tension coming off of them as they move past each other in the small kitchen area. Josh finishes up the carton of milk and goes to chuck it. His body skims up against Becca’s to squeeze past her to get to the garbage can and she does little to pull herself in to give him room enough to pass. Their bodies slide into each other and they both mumble a little apology, Josh once again using the nickname ‘Becks.’

  My heart sinks, realizing what is playing out in front of me. Her getting so angry before makes more sense now. I can see what’s going on between them even more than they can yet. There’s a mutual attraction building there. It’s too early to tell if it’s anything more than that, but whatever it is brewing does not bode well for the three of us.

  Chapter Five

  Josh

  Even though Aidan’s at work, Becca is still here. I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all. She’s parked in my chair and I’m sprawled across the couch with one eye on the TV, the other eye on the iPad that’s propped up on my lap.

  “What are you doing on that thing?” Becca asks over her shoulder.

  “Nothing really. Just looking stuff up.”

  “Oh, can I see it?” She holds her hand out to me. I close out of the screen I’m on and get up from the couch to hand it to her.

  “Hmm,” she says once I sit back down. Her fingers dance over the screen. “This is interesting.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m looking up your history, seeing what kind of stuff you look up on here.” She laughs, raising her eyebrows. “Wow, dirty. You’re one sick pervert.”

  I’m up on my feet, darting across the room, seizing the iPad back from her. Oh shit. I’m terrified as I glance down at the screen to see what disgusting sites she busted me looking up. It could be just about anything. Please God, don’t let it be the porn site with the pierced, tattooed girls.

  An APP is opened, a zombie game. That’s all.

  She’s hysterical. “Ew, I was kidding, but what sick shit are you looking up? Obviously stuff you don’t want me to see.” Her eyes are lit up and she tries to stifle her laughter by cupping her hand over her glossy lips.

  I tuck the iPad in between the couch cushions, hiding it from her. Later I gotta figure out a way to erase the history. Right after I check out that site one more time.

  “Sometimes I may stumble on some interesting things,” I say, trying to recover casually.

  “On the internet we all stumble on some interesting things, right?” She turns around and gives me one of her flirty winks. My stomach tightens. Who is this girl? I can’t get over the way she just says whatever she wants. Did she just kind of admit to being an internet pervert? Holy fuck. I would chop off my left arm to know what interesting things she’s looking up herself.

  Becca tugs on the zipper of her hoodie, zipping and unzipping it absently, the trail of stars coming in and out of view. Her boobs are definitely real. “Did Aidan do your tattoos?” I ask, wondering if there are any others I just can’t see.

  “Nope, none of them.”

  “You have more than just those stars?”

  “Maybe,” she purrs, arching her eyebrows up and I swear my chest plunges forward just like some animated cartoon characters would. I stare back over at the TV in a daze.

  I could be in my room but instead I spend the next hour watching celebrities dance. Not only am I watching, but I’m being instructed to give each couple a score following their dance. And I’m discussing this shit, saying things like, “wow, that old guy is pretty good” and “you’re right, that’s not fair to the others if they have a background in dancing.” After the show is over, I’m actually using my cell phone to call in and vote for the couple Becca “totally thinks deserves to win.”

  “Are you hungry?” I ask, once we’ve used up our allotted votes. I’m sure she is. She always is. She’s constantly munching. I’m pretty sure she’s the thief who’s been eating all my chocolate chips. “We can order or, ya know, go out somewhere if you want.”

  “Go out? Like… ” She stops, her eyes scanning the floor. “Just out to eat?”

  “Yeah, just to eat. I wasn’t asking you on a date or anything.” I take a sharp breath. That came out rude. Not my intention at all. It’s just I don’t do dates.

  Her eyes lose a little bit of their light and she swivels her head back towards the TV. “No, I’m good. I ate before.”

  Dammit. Why did I feel the need to say it like that? Why does being a dickhead come so easy to me? Of course she didn’t think I was asking her on a date. She’s with Aidan. Get a grip and fix this.

  “Well, I’m ordering and I’m just gonna order you something whether you’re hungry or not.” Yup, that fixed it. Now I look like an even bigger dick.

  She scrunches up her nose, the little diamond stud sending a sparkle my way. Her eyes warm as she rolls them towards the ceiling. “Josh, why do you have to make things so difficult?”

  I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t know, ‘cause I really like it when things are easy.”

  “I’m sure you do.” She lifts her eyebrows, glancing over at me insinuatingly.

  Easy life, easy girls, those things make me happy. Well…content. I don’t know that easy girls really make me happy.

  Becca turns her whole body in the chair so that she’s facing me. “Sometimes when you have to work a little harder at something, you find you appreciate it more.”

  I meet her gray eyes. Gray. I know they’re gray. I’ve known they’re gray since the first time I met her. Too pale to be considered blue, too beautiful not to notice. My lips squeeze together in a frown. So what? I know what color her eyes are. That doesn’t mean anything. I lower my head down away from her intense gaze and reach for the menu on the coffee table. “I’m gonna go order,” I mumble, getting up from the couch.

  “Okay. Can you make sure you tell them I want brown rice with mine?”

  “Brown rice. Got it.” I call the order in from the kitchen. “Can you repeat it back,” I say to the man taking the order. Because I don’t want to get this wrong. I’ve got to make sure I don’t fuck this up.

  Aidan

  I rub antibacterial ointment onto the fresh skull I created on a biker’s thick arm and pull my head back to admire my work. “You ready to check this thing out?”

  The guy looks down and then gets up from the chair, stretching out his back before walking over to the mirror. “Whoa, dude, this is awesome.” He admires the new ink, moving around to see it from different angles. “It’s killer. How do you even learn to do something like this?”

  I tip my head at him modestly. Tattooing was something I always wanted to do. Growing up I was constantly losing myself sketching up the different ideas I had jumping around in my head. On my eighteenth birthday I got my first tattoo, a dagger in a heart that I drew up myself. The artist who did my tattoo liked it. It was one of those ‘right place at the right time’ moments. I started working there doing small jobs, building experience. When I moved here the guy was good enough to give me a recommendation. And, well, here I am.

  “Aidan.” Frank, the owner of the shop, walks over and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Before you head out we got a few girls coming in. Twenty first birthday celebration. They all want tattoos.” He laughs. “I told them we’d only tattoo ‘em if they were sober when they got here. You mind staying? I’m sure it’ll just be a bunch of bullshit butterflies on shoulders.”

  “I’ll stay but you know as well as I do what’s gonna happen.” I don’t tattoo girls. They don’t want me to. I scare them. One look at me and they’ll wait two hours for Frank or one of the other guys to tattoo them rather than have my mangled face staring down at them. I do
n’t let it bother me. Anymore.

  A short while later, a white limo pulls up outside and four giggling girls bounce excitedly into the shop.

  Frank was right, they all want butterflies. I was also right, they’ll wait.

  I’m packing my stuff up for the night when a fifth girl enters the shop, the bell above the door announcing her entrance. A gust of wind behind her circles her long brown hair in a gentle swirl around her. She’s not silly and giggling like her friends. She has more of a calm demeanor. Serious. Her amber eyes survey the little shop until they land on me. Our eyes lock for a moment before I twist away, breaking the stare. I reach for my sunglasses and slip them on. Freak show’s over.

  One of her friend’s runs over, whispering something in her ear all the while staring in my direction. Not hard to guess she’s explaining my being turned down to tattoo them. Even though I’m sure an explanation isn’t exactly needed.

  The last of my stuff is cleaned and put away. I grab my keys and yell out a goodnight to Frank on my way out.

  “Hey.” A light touch grazes my shoulder. “Are you available to do my tattoo?”

  The dark haired beauty waits thoughtfully for me to answer. She wants to show me she’s the nice one of the group. Feels bad and wants to make me feel good.

  “Sorry, I’m on my way out. One of the other guys will help you.” I nod my head towards the other end of the shop and breeze past her.

  “I didn’t ask for one of the other guys. I asked if you’re available.” A bold, collected statement. She stops me dead in my tracks. My heart drops down to my feet and races back up, thumping away in my chest.

  “I thought you weren’t getting a tattoo?” One of her friends shrieks over with a shocked expression.

  “I changed my mind,” she answers, looking directly at me. “I want to get one right here.” Her hand lowers down, pressing into her hip.

  Looking down where she’s pointing causes an involuntary shiver to run through me. I know I couldn’t hold a needle straight right now even if I wanted to. The sexy jeans hugging her curves are causing me to sweat. One look at the exposed skin of her hip and I’d be lost for sure.