“Over-pack, did you? We’re only here for two weeks.”
“Go away, Chance.”
“Whatever you say, Cass.”
I watch as he walks away, jeans hugging his hard ass, and shirt sleeves folded up to his elbows. How the hell can anybody look so unbelievably good after an eight hour plane ride?
I grumble to myself. I can’t wait to get to the hotel. I need a bath.
*
I stare at the old man, at the way he thinks he looks casual and carefree, but really, he’s just pretending. He’s got his shirt unbuttoned, but I can tell that’s a new development. Is hair is a little messy, and he keeps raising his hand, as if he’s going to smooth it over, recreate a parting, but then stops himself.
He’s eyeballing me, too, with a straight back, and he thinks he’s looking down at me.
“What are you looking at, Kyle?” I ask him.
“You’ll call me ‘Sir’,” he says.
I just laugh.
“Sorry, Kyle, didn’t quite get that.”
He clears his throat, somehow manages to sit even straighter, and folds up his newspaper carefully and puts it over his knee. “You’ll call me ‘Sir’.”
I pretend to think about it. “Nah, no I won’t.”
“That’s how we’ve done it in my family for generations,” he says, but now his voice is shaking, and I can see he’s ready to blow a fuse.
What the fuck is wrong with this guy? He’ll have a heart attack if he keeps on like this.
“For fuck’s sake you old bastard, will you just take it easy?” I wink at him, and he seriously looks like he’s going to explode. I pull out my cigarette pack.
“You’ll not smoke in here, young man.”
I glance around, and my eyes settle on the marble ashtray in front of me. “Do you see any no smoking signs?”
“I’m telling you not to smoke.”
I laugh, and light my cigarette. “You don’t get to tell me jack shit.”
He’s panting now, struggling to breathe, and his face is this strange mix of purple and red. His nose looks like a prize strawberry.
“You alright, Kyle?” I ask, blowing smoke rings up into the air. “You seem a little stressed. Did you not manage to sleep on the plane?”
“I’m going to have a talk with your mother—”
“You fucking talk to my mother then, old man,” I say, standing up and stepping toward him. I can see he’s clearly intimidated, but I’m just walking past him, toward the hotel’s entrance.
“We’re going to get you sorted out, Chance,” he says at my back from his sofa in the lobby, but I ignore him.
That’s when I notice her. Cass. She’s standing by the elevators, and she’s looking at me, arms folded. Her eyes go from me to her father.
She looks… not angry. I can’t place it, but for some reason, it makes me feel like shit.
“Whatever,” I say, leaving the hotel, and stepping out into the cold morning air. It’s damp – it rained last night – and I can no longer tell the difference between my breath and my exhaled cigarette smoke.
“Why are you such a dick all the time?”
I turn around to see Cassie, and I shrug.
“Your dad was the dick.”
“He just asked you not to smoke. Why do you even do that? It’s a disgusting habit.”
“You like to judge people, don’t you, Cass?”
“Don’t try and turn this on me, Chance.”
I look her up and down. She’s wearing a sweater and jeans. My eyes linger on the swell of her breasts. I envision myself tearing her clothes off, and burying my face in between her legs.
“Hey, what makes you think I have to play nice with your father? He’s nobody to me.”
“He’s somebody to me!” she cries at me. Others walking by on the street look at us, but I don’t give a shit.
“Well, he’s nobody to me.”
“Is that all you’ve got up there in your thick skull, Chance? What’s good for you?”
I look at her hard in the eyes.
“Yes,” I say. “That’s all. You can’t change me, Cass. Don’t think you can. Besides, you wouldn’t be the first who tried.”
I see it, then. I see her face fall. I see that what I’ve said upsets her. I knew that it would, but somehow, I’m not prepared for the impact it’s going to have on me.
It… it feels like shit.
“Fuck you, Chance,” she says, and she slaps me. She actually, honest to God, slaps me. It’s a good slap, too, and it leaves my face stinging.
Her lips are trembling, and she’s angrier than I’ve ever seen her before. “I hate that I like you,” she says, and she turns around and storms back into the hotel.
I walk off into the street without looking back.
I flick my butt, and light up another cigarette.
*
chapter ten
A cliché.
That’s what I was today on my second day in London, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I may as well have had a camera strapped around my neck, and a cap with the flag of the United States on it, and a name badge that read ‘Cassie (Tourist)’.
My first step was the London Eye – it seemed like the right choice. I’d get to gaze over the relatively low cityscape of London for thirty minutes. There were so many places I wanted to see and one day simply wouldn’t be enough to do it all in. So by going up in the Eye, an enormous Ferris wheel, I’d get to see many of them, and make my first choices that way.
The eye was crowded, and I was surprised by the sheer number of Russian tourists. Several tour busses deposited tour groups, before picking them up again afterward and shuttling them somewhere else.
Of course, I wasn’t part of a tour. I had initially decided to walk around London on my own, but in the end Chance ended up coming with me. He didn’t actually apologize for being such an asshole, but he got as close as he ever has before, which must be like, some kind of milestone for him. The words ‘I’m sorry’ never left his mouth, but he did awkwardly try and be nice to me, and offer to join me today. It was obviously quite difficult for him.
I didn’t mind… oh, who am I kidding? It was definitely better than being alone.
To his credit, he did manage to curtail some of his irritating attitude today. He seemed as interested in exploring one of the greatest cities on Earth – or so they say – as I did.
The Eye itself was a little more boring than I had expected, but then again, these sorts of things are. We walked along the River Thames next, before crossing the Millennium Bridge and popping into St. Paul’s Cathedral. Now that was something. Outside the cathedral, tourists milled and were loud and, in some cases, badly behaved.
But once inside that all quickly evaporated, and instead people donned attitudes of hushed reverence. To my surprise, even Chance seemed quite enraptured by the grand and holy building, and spent some time wandering about on his own.
It never occurred to me that the boy might actually appreciate a bit of culture and history.
It was at this point that I decided to make my first day in London ‘museum day’, and so we went to the British Museum next, and after a quick sandwich and, groan, a cigarette for Chance, we bought tickets to a wildlife photography exhibition the museum was putting on, and saw some stunning photographs of animals from all over the world.
One, in particular, stood out in my mind. It was the silhouette of a koala yawning, and in the tiny gap of the creature’s mouth, another silhouetted animal could be seen; a kangaroo, standing on a ridge in the distance. It was a really gorgeous shot, and was pretty much the moment I added ‘see Australia’ to my bucket list.
Another cigarette later – yawn… I don’t know why he smokes – we went to the National Gallery to look at some art. I’m not particularly well-versed in paintings, and so it was all quite new for me, and Chance found that he liked the various paintings of shipwrecks, and ships on stormy seas.
That’s kind of a guy thing
to like, isn’t it?
And after that, well, we were tired and it was getting dark. He took me to a pub and bought me a pint of bitter, which was totally different than any kind of beer I’d tried before.
He was surprised to hear that I had tried beer before. Of course he was. He thinks he knows me, but he really doesn’t. He’s not the only one to ever sneak one of my Dad’s bottles from the fridge.
It was after that, though, that we actually ran into some trouble…
I sit back from my computer, and re-read what I’ve typed. I’m keeping a pseudo-diary during this trip because I think it’ll be interesting to re-read once I’m done with my degree at LSE, and see how my perspective has changed.
Chance thinks it’s stupid.
Of course he does. Sometimes I wonder if he has an introspective bone in his body.
But… he did get us out of one scary event tonight, and just remembering it threatens to spoil my mood, just like it almost seriously spoiled our day…
*
“I don’t like that kind of beer,” I say. It was quite heavy, seemed to have no bubbles, had too much creamy froth on the top, and wasn’t cold enough. “Actually, I don’t even really like beer. Why didn’t I get a cocktail or something?”
He doesn’t respond, and I hear the metal clink of his zippo.
“Do you have to smoke all the time?”
“Oh, fuck, Cass, would you just let up?”
“Would you?”
“I enjoy it.”
“What’s to enjoy? It’ll kill you.”
“I do a lot of things that can kill me.”
I roll my eyes. That’s the kind of idiotic answer I expect from him now. I am surprised, though, to realize that it doesn’t actually annoy me like it used to.
It’s dark now, and the whole city looks different. It’s always like that; you know your way around, roughly, during the day, but once the sun sets, suddenly you can’t remember if you walked down a particular street before.
“Are we going the right way?”
“Depends where we’re going.”
“Uh, to the hotel?”
“Then yes.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, turning around. I don’t really recognize anything, and even worse, it drizzled when we were having our drink, and so the cobbled-stone street was all shiny, further disorienting me.
“Surprised they didn’t ID us,” he says.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. The legal age is eighteen here.”
“I know,” he says. “Just surprised.”
I turn around again, brow bunched. I really don’t recognize this street. I see two guys walking a bit behind us, and they’ve got their hoods up.
“Where are we going, Chance?”
“To the hotel, Cass! It’s this way.”
“But I don’t remember walking up this street.”
“You were busy yapping away,” he says, and he grins at me.
“Shut up,” I say, slapping his arm. “I was not yapping.”
“You definitely were yapping, Cass.”
“What about?”
“Fucked if I know, I wasn’t listening.”
“You’re such an asshole, Chance.” But I can’t help but laugh. I turn around again, though, and see that the two guys are still there.
“I think they are following us.”
Chance turns, and one of them calls out.
“Got a light, mate?”
Chance stops, and I notice that he isn’t looking so carefree anymore. His face has gone hard, and he steps in front of me, and pulls out his zippo.
“Cheers.”
“No problem,” he says.
“American, are you? Tourists?”
I look at the man now smoking his cigarette, and his friend. They don’t look old – maybe not even older than us – but they look like they’re out for trouble.
“Yeah,” Chance says.
“Oh yeah? Jimmy here’s got a cousin in America, don’t you, Jimmy?”
“North Carolina,” he says, and he flashes a grin. “I fink.”
“So who’s this pretty girl, then?” the man smoking says, and he looks me up and down. He grins at me, flashes a set of teeth. “She your bird?”
I can feel my heartbeat starting to quicken. I’m a little afraid, and adrenaline is starting to course through my body. I want to get my phone from my bag, but realize I don’t know the emergency number here, anyway.
God, that is so stupid of me!
“You need a light too, Jimmy?” Chance asks, and his voice is icy.
“Yeah, I’ll take one.”
Chance sparks a flame, and cups it with his hand while Jimmy leans in with his cigarette.
“That’s a nice lighter,” he says, and he puts out his hand. “Give it here, yeah?”
Chance flicks the lighter shut, and holds it in between two fingers. “Don’t think so, boys.”
“Come on, mate, I just want to have a look.”
“Not interested,” Chance says.
That’s when the atmosphere changes noticeably. I can hear everybody breathing.
“Do I look like I give a fuck if you’re interested, yank?”
Chance steps forward, right in between me and the two guys. A car trundles by, the headlights wiping over us for a moment.
“Do I look like I give a fuck if you give a fuck?” Chance growls.
And the only thing I can think of is: fucking boys!
“You should, ’cause it’s two of us and only one of you, and you got yourself a girl here.” He winks at me, and I wrinkle my nose. I look around, but there is nobody else on the street, and all the shops have shut.
“Will you just leave us alone?” I say, tugging at Chance’s hand. “Come on, let’s go. Let’s not do this.”
I feel his hand close around mine, and he gives it a squeeze before he pushes me a step back.
“What do you say?” Chance says. “How about you two walk away.”
“How about you let us see that lighter?”
I groan, and say, “What is wrong with you two, it’s just a lighter!”
Jimmy’s face creases with irritation, and he says, “Oh, just put a sock in it, you fucking cunt.”
Chance moves, lightning fast, and I don’t even see it, I just hear it, a loud thump followed by a cry of pain. Jimmy hits the floor, clutching at his jaw, and Chance storms at the other one, angry strides and fists cocked. He’s light on his feet, dances around, ducks a punch and then throws his fist into the guy’s gut, doubling him over, winded and gasping.
It’s over in seconds. Chance grabs Jimmy by the hair, hoists his head up off the ground, and I see tears in his eyes and anguish on his face.
“Say sorry,” Chance snarls in his ear.
“Faurk orff.”
I watch as Chance slaps him hard, eliciting a high-pitched cry of pain.
“Say sorry!”
Jimmy wilts, hand at the side of his face. “Sahwry! Sahwry!”
“Your jaw’s broken, by the way. That’s why you can’t talk properly. You’re going to be eating through a fucking tube for months. Hope it was worth it, cunt.”
Chance grabs me by the arms and yanks me down the street, and we start walking fast.
“You broke his jaw?”
“Yeah,” he says, turning angry eyes on me. “What would you have done? Talked them down?”
“Hey, don’t take it out on me.”
He looks like he’s going to retort, fire something nasty back, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just rubs his knuckles once – they’re bruised – and then wraps an arm around me and pulls me with him as he walks quickly.
“We need to get back onto a busy street.”
“Why?”
“No doubt those shits have friends and phones.”
*
I’m angry as fuck. My hand hurts, and now I’m looking over my shoulder, and Cassie is busy asking me if I had to break the guy’s jaw.
It’s not like that was my intent. I
just fucking hit him.
And she doesn’t understand why I’m angry. Of course she doesn’t. She thinks it’s because they called her a name, but it’s not that. I couldn’t give two shits about name-calling.
But the strength of my anger surprises even me, and I know it’s because, fuck, I’ve got feelings for this girl. More than just feelings.
And just the thought of her being threatened, just the thought of her being hurt in some way…
I feel it in my bones… rage.
I want to protect her. I want to keep her safe. And that was a close call. Too fucking close. I should have noticed them following us, but I was too fucking wrapped up in her, focused on her, and the inevitable scolding she was going to give me about smoking.
Which reminds me. I pull a cigarette out of my pack and I light it. She looks at me like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t, and so I finish it quickly with big drags.
My heart is pumping crazy fast, and I would be lying if I said that a part of me didn’t enjoy that. But a bigger part of me really didn’t, because it wasn’t just me there.
Cassie was there, too.
The thought that I just protected my little sister makes me laugh. I think about saying it, but our family status seems to bug her more than it bugs me. It’s just a fucking technicality, I don’t see what the big deal is.
“Will he really have to eat through a straw for months?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” I say.
“You fight much? You took them down quick.”
“They were drunk and slow. Two-on-one is never a position you want to find yourself in. In a fight, I mean.”
I smirk at her, and it takes a second for the dots to connect.
“Don’t be so gross.” But she smiles, and the way she looks melts all my rage away. I don’t know how she does that, and I know she doesn’t mean to. I know it’s me, what I feel for her.
But still… it’s the first time a girl’s ever been able to do that to me. Make me feel better no matter what, just by simply smiling.
She also turns me on my simply smiling. I feel a stirring in my cock. This girl!
“Think our parents will be pissed we’re coming home so late?” she asks.
Chance Her Stepbrother Page 7