by Anthology
genres, Isabelle is drawn to romance novels as they provide an escape from daily life. Through her complex cast of characters, Isabelle creates a sanctuary for readers to dive into for a break from reality.
When she is not writing, Isabelle works as an advocate for persons with disabilities in Washington, DC. Her two yellow labs are her writing partners, although they frequently sleep on the job.
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CHICKS, MAN
J.D. Hollyfield
1
KIPLEY AND STACEY’S WEDDING DAY
Levi
“Dude, look at all those chicks, man. It’s like a flock of fucking flamingos just begging for some action.” Chase, my best friend and a fellow groomsman, points out, refusing to take his eyes off the group of giggling bridesmaids, huddled in the corner of the church. I pull on the bowtie that’s strangling me and bring my eyes to the ridiculous number of bridesmaids Stacey, Kipley’s bride, chose to stand up.
“Who the fuck didn’t Stacey ask to stand up, Jesus.” Ben groans trying to count the small colony of girls, all puffed out in Pepto Bismol pink.
I give up on my tie and scrape my hands down my face. “Dude, I have no idea. I was less worried about the headcount and more like, what the hell was Kip thinking when he allowed his bride to pick pink?” I hate pink. All guys hate pink. Dammit! I go at it again, tugging at my damn bowtie. I swear, either my neck grew a solid inch in circumference or Stacey ordered all our shit a size smaller.
Seven months ago, our best friend since grade school, Kipley Matthews, took the plunge and asked his girl to marry him. Despite the huge debate Chase put up, that by tying himself down by a chick, would ruin our bro-power, he asked. And she said yes.
The four of us all grew up in the same neighborhood in small town, USA. All same in age. Kipley was always the smartest. Stuck to the books all through high school, while Chase stuck to chasing girls and getting the lower classman to help him cheat. Ben and I stuck mostly to football and the occasional double dates Chase would force us to go on, since he always had a new girl, and she always had a friend. Fifteen years later and we’re all standing in Jameson Catholic church, waiting on our boy to walk down the aisle.
“Dude with that lineup of chicks, there’s no way we can’t pull an old-school seven minutes in heaven. Just look at all those tits. It’s like an endless amount of nipple suction. I mean ten girls, really?” Chase grabs for his dick and I punch him, shaking my head. I take another peak at Stacey’s absurd lineup. Stacey was two years younger. Top of her class and very popular. I’m actually shocked she only has ten standing up. I notice a few faces from high school. Kendall Brice, a former cheerleader, now married with kids. Kristen Miller, girl voted most likely to end up at a strip club, and Rebecca Fritz, the world’s biggest bitch. And I don’t say that because I’m a jerk or down on chicks, but she has been, and always will be, a bitch.
I’m going down the line, a few more girls I don’t recognize, when I almost pass over Hannah, Kip’s younger sister. I probably would have if I didn’t catch Rebecca hip bump her into the table. Like I said, a bitch.
I glower at Rebecca, as I take in Hannah. Still a tiny little thing, she catches herself before tripping over her, too long, pink puff of a disaster, dress. I’m still watching her as she brushes her over curled, chestnut hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. I move my gaze away from her frustrated doe eyes, her plump pouty lips, and take a shameful peak at her chest. Her tits sure have made their appearance since we were all kids. I shock myself when my dick twitches thinking about little ole Hannah Matthews. I close my eyes, raking my hands back down my face. What the hell has gotten into me?
“Dude, Kristen still looks like a fucken’ stripper. I bet she’d meet me in the closet for seven minutes. Ride me like she used to in high school.” I smack Chase, because we’re in a damn church and god forbid Kip or Stacey’s families overhear our conversation.
“What, man? You know you’re thinking the same thing. Weddings are meant for people to get laid. And it’s happening. Just like old times. Who you targeting? Didn’t you used to have a thing for Kendall? I bet she would suck you off…”
This time I punch him in the side. “Dude, she’s fucking married with two kids. Seriously, grow up.” I huff in frustration. The last thing on my mind is getting laid. Not since, Teresa, my now ex broke up with me, after finding someone to take my place.
Ben steps forward placing his hand on my shoulder, “Man, don’t even think about that cheating ex of yours. She didn’t deserve you.” She most definitely didn’t. All that bull crap about women wanting a nice guy, and when they get one, they take advantage. I offer Ben an appreciative nod, knowing he understands. Unlike Chase, who knows nothing about having a relationship outside of Tinder or for longer than twenty-four hours, Ben is like me. I was able to turn to him when shit hit the fan. I caught Teresa with another guy, in our bed. I almost let her convince me what she did was a mistake and that she loved me. But then I wised up and kicked her cheating ass out.
“Okay, fine. Geez, don’t need to be a pussy about it. Might as well go for little Hannah Banana Matthews. Plain as she used to be, but man, did she grow some tits.” Chase starts laughing, and my frustration builds. I’m not sure why I care. I never cared before when he poked fun at Kip’s little sister. “Oh what? Have I upset you? Did you want to hit little Matthews?” Both Ben and Chase are gaping at me, and I have no idea why it takes me this long to respond. God no, I don’t want to do anything with Hannah Matthews. The little runt with braces, who used to bug the shit out of us when we were kids, always hanging around, being an annoying little brat. I pull my eyes away from my friends and make the mistake of landing them back on Hannah.
She’s standing behind the group of girls, trying to squeeze into a photo. Rebecca is making it impossible, and Stacey is too far away to assist. I glower once again at Rebecca.
“Dude, you are looking at little Hannah Matthews. That’s bad man. We need to get you laid tonight, bro.” Before I can turn and retaliate, Agnes, Kip’s grandmother walks up,
“It’s time, boys.”
2
THE RECEPTION
Hannah
“Oh. Em. Gee. Because we’re chicks, man. How else are we going to get their attention? It’s clearly obvious they’re into at least one of us. Look at Chase Steinberg? Remember that guy? Huge slut in high school, but holy hell could he fuck.” Kristen, one of Stacey’s close girlfriends spurts out at another girl, whose name I don’t remember.
I gasp at her blunt words, tossing my hair out of my face to get a look at Chase, one of my brother’s best friends. I hadn’t seen any of these guys in years. Probably since they all left for college. By the time they all graduated, it was my turn to test out College USA and our paths never crossed again. Chase looks the same. That typical playboy image, his sandy hair whisked back. He looks more toned since high school, with those eyes that still scream he will screw anything with a heartbeat.
I recognize Ben, one of Kipley’s nicer friends. Still buff, in that athletic sort of way. Chestnut hair in a short crewcut and eyes you can get lost in. There are a few I don’t know. College friends, I assume. When my eyes land on Levi Dent my breath stalls. Levi Dent. Class of 2002, former football legend. And it wasn’t because he was the number one pick for Notre Dame. Or he won the title for First League Division three years in a row. It was because, on top of being the best athletic star to ever attend Breckinridge high school, he was also the nicest. The town sweetheart.
Levi Dent always had a girlfriend. He never slept around, unlike the rest of Kipley’s friends, and he never spoke an ill word to me. He may have never spoken a word to me period, but it was better than the names and poking fun that the rest of his friends used to do. Hannah Banana Matthews. The stupid nickname th
at Chase Steinberg bestowed on me when I was young. The stupid name that stuck with me all through high school. Thankfully, by the time I left for college, I lost the braces, grew some curves, kind of, and lost most of my baby face. Mostly.
I stop trying to eavesdrop on the girls’ conversation and go to sit down at the head of the table. Stacey, thankfully, reserved me a spot next to her. I lay my purse down and squat just in time for the chair to be stolen from underneath me.
“What in the…” I turn to see Rebecca, the devil witch, behind me.
“I don’t think so, honey. Your seat is all the way at the end. I get to sit next to my girl.” I want to tell her she’s wrong. Because even the name tag on the table says this is my seat. I want to turn to her and take my tiny palm and smack her fat, fake lips right off her ugly, over-botoxed face, but when I turn around, I chicken out.
Because I am just like what they call me. Timid little Hannah.
“Sure, you can sit here,” I reply, trying to be kind and grab my purse. I turn to Stacey, to tell her I am moving, but she is talking to a relative and I don’t want to disturb her. I barely take two steps before Rebecca is replacing the chair and sitting. Her chair must have caught the bottom of my dress because, as I walk away, I hear a loud rip; the bottom of my dress tearing up the back.
I’ve been hiding in the bathroom since the dress incident. Instead of helping me, Rebecca made a scene, laughing and pointing. Before I broke down in tears, Stacey grabbed me and helped me out of the banquet hall and into the bathroom. Thankfully, there was an emergency kit and she helped pin the dress enough that it would hold up for the remainder of the reception. She insisted on staying with me, but I told her to go enjoy her party. I would be fine.
But fine was far from what I was. I was angry. I was embarrassed. I was hurt. How can someone be so cruel to another?
Easy.
I try not to remember much of high school. The teasing and all the making fun people did. I wasn’t pretty. I didn’t have boobs and I was light years away from being on anyone’s popularity radar. If you didn’t get my hint, I was on no one’s radar.
I actually take that back. I was. I was Kipley Matthews’ little sister. But, if it were life or death, and someone was asked what my name was, they would reply confidently that it was Kipley Matthews’ sister. Awesome, right?
Not.
But, eventually, I went to college, which turned out to be the best thing that happened to me. Everyone finds themselves in college, as did I. I found a new style, boobs, Sephora, and friends. I actually found a few boyfriends and, believe it or not, lost my virginity. Can’t say it was anything great, since my boyfriend at that time was drunk; thirty seconds into it, he finished and passed out. But I got the experience and finally got to say I wasn’t a virgin anymore.
I’m just so angry at the way Rebecca was treating me. I wasn’t that measly little girl who let people pick on her, like in high school. I grew a backbone, somewhat, and I wasn’t going to take shit from these mean girls who thought it was okay to just push me to the side. I wipe the tears off my cheeks just as the bathroom doors open and a flock of giggling girls walk in.
“Oh my god, did you see the way they were practically licking their lips! They want us. I am so in.” Rebecca.
“I say you take Chase up on his offer. Why the hell not? To get laid by Levi Dent, man, can you even imagine? It’s like getting your wish finally granted from 2002!” That’s Kristen. My ears perk at the mention of Levi’s name. As quietly as possible I lift my feet on top of the seat so they don’t see me.
“I’m totally doing it. I’ll meet Levi in any closet for an old-school game of seven minutes in heaven any day,” Rebecca says. I can hear her smacking her lips. With the tiny slit in the stall door, I can see them all standing in the mirror adjusting their hair and makeup. My curiosity is in full affect. Seven minutes in heaven? With Levi?
“Okay, so tell me exactly what he said? I was too busy giving Ben the ‘let’s fuck’ eye.” Kristen says, smearing tacky red lipstick on her lips.
Rebecca primps her hair, smacking her lips some more and says, “Chase said that Levi is feeling down and needs to get laid. Apparently, his girl cheated on him. Simply asked me if I was up for the challenge. If so, meet him in the supply closet, three doors down from the left in twenty minutes. He would be waiting for me and bam. I take Levi Dent on the ride of his life.” She giggles, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. I’m disgusted at how his friend can just set him up like that. Levi is not like that. He’s kind and friendly. Polite and actually has manners, unlike everyone else Kipley associates himself with.
“Wow girl. So jelly. I’ve always heard rumors about Levi. He’s just as good in bed as he is at football.” All the girls moan at that statement. I silently do so myself. I’ve always had a secret crush on Levi. Okay, a huge crush. He’s just the perfect guy. Dark hair, the greenest eyes, muscles on top of muscles. It wasn’t just his looks, though. It was all of him. I was just as guilty of having those fantasies and wishes where I found myself in bed with Levi Dent. The blushing cheeks I couldn’t hide for the life of me whenever he came over, because I was always fantasizing about him doing something extremely naughty to me.
I bite on my hand to stop myself from giving myself away. I hear the shutting of purse clasps and the door to the bathroom open.
“Well, don’t worry girls, I’ll be the first to report. When I meet him in the supply closet, in exactly twenty minutes, I’ll make sure to snap a pic of his prize winning cock for you.” The flock of giggles exit where they came in from and the bathroom once again becomes silent.
I drop my feet then adjust my stupid hair that mom insisted I get curled. I open the door and take a good look at myself. “God, no wonder why people make fun of me. I look like god damn Curly Sue.” I groan pulling on my hair. I run my fingers through the trestle of curls to help loosen the mess. I grab some pins from the emergency basket and fix my hair, along with my makeup, since I ruined it with my tears.
Once I finish cleaning myself up, I arch my shoulders and take a good look at myself in the mirror. This insane plan started forming in my insane head before Rebecca and her mean squad left the bathroom.
One of us would be getting our wish granted tonight.
And I would be doing Levi a favor.
Kind of.
3
TRICKED
Levi
I trip into the bar, just as Kip grabs my bicep. “Whoa, you good man? You’ve been drinking a little heavy tonight,” Kip says, looking worried. He shouldn’t be. I haven’t felt this loose in ages. After Teresa left me, I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. I was even suffering at work. I just needed to find an outlet to release all the pent up anger I’d been harboring. I thought I loved her. God, was I wrong. That wasn’t love. It was desperation.
“Dude, I’m fine. Just enjoying myself.” I slap my hand on the bar to steady myself and empty the rest of my gin and tonic. I look around in hopes of spotting someone who will take my mind off my ex. Mid-sweep of the room, my eyes land on little Hannah Matthews scurrying across the dance floor like a girl on a mission. I wonder what she’s up to. Her cheeks are flushed, as they always are, her full chest bouncing up and down. I bet she has nice nipples, I think to myself. The perfect sized breasts. I bet, when a man makes her come, she squeals that little timid sound she would always make when she was younger and got excited. What in the fuck am I doing?
I swipe my hands over my face, trying to snap out of it. God, I must need to get laid if I’m standing here wondering how good little Hannah Banana Matthews would squeeze my dick if I made her come. I turn to the bartender to request a refill, when a large set of hands land on my shoulder.
“Dude, I got a surprise for you,” Chase says behind me. I turn to see him smiling like a fucking idiot. Which is never a good thing.
“No thanks, whatever it is,” I reply, turning back to the bar.
“No way, dude. You’ll want this surprise. Trust m
e.” I turn back. His eyes gleam with trouble. I don’t even want to know what he’s set me up for. Just as I’m about to decline again, Ben walks up.
“Yo, change of plans.” We all look at Ben, me more curiously.
“Change of what plans?” I ask, my eyes narrowing on my two best friends, who look guilty as fuck.
“Bro, you are going to thank us. We just set you up with a hot chick, man. She’s not going to ask you to hold hands, meet her parents, or snuggle. She’s going to fuck you, like you need, and then she’s going to leave. No attachments. Just a place to get your dick wet.” Chase finishes with a smile.
I want to object instantly. Because I am not that guy. I’m not a person who can just have sex with a girl. I appreciate those hand holding moments, the closeness of a good snuggle, the scent of a woman who you want to have in your arms. God, I am a fucking pussy.
“Just say yes, man. This chick? She’s going to make all your problems disappear.” Ben looks like he is about to burst out laughing. “Chicks, man. Think about how much your sad, lonely dick wants to be inside one…” Chase pokes at me.
And fuck, he is right. My dick does want to be in someone.
“Do it, do it,” both Chase and Ben begin to chant. Kipley is laughing, until Stacey walks over and everyone shuts up.
“Hello, boys, what seems to be so funny?” She smiles wrapping her dainty arms around Kip.
Chase steps forward and says, “Oh nothing, just trying to fix up Levi here with a nice girl.” Stacey’s warm smile spreads across her face.
“That’s sweet. Anyone would be grateful to have you, Levi.” Her kindness sobers me some. It’s that kindness, my own kindness that got me into this position. God, with every single girlfriend I have ever had. “Well, hope you boys don’t mind. I’m going to steal my husband for a quick dance.” Kip bends down, sweeping his wife off her feet and we all watch as he carries her to the center of the dance floor.