by Tara Ahmed
“He said you’re below him?”
My jaw dropped.
“Yes! That’s exactly what he said. How did you know—“
“I’ve lived with him long enough to know how he is,” Richard replied. “Don’t let it get to you. He’s an ass most of the time, but he doesn’t mean it. Whenever he feels like he’s getting too close to someone, he pushes them away. He says the worst thing he could think of to say to them, to try to get them to back away. But why would he want you to back away?—
“We were arguing,” I lied. “But…thanks for the explanation. It makes sense now.
Um…I’m late for class, I think. Thanks for the brunch!”
Before he could object, I took out five bucks from my black purse, placing it on the table, and rushing out the door. He was asking too many questions, and if I kept sitting there, he would probably figure out that something odd was going on between me and James.
I could not concentrate.
It was my last class of the day, as Professor Bukowsky had all of us pretend we were animals, interacting with each other in a farm. I had gotten goat, so as I wandered around the stage, knocking into my fellow classmates, I really did feel like a goat. I extended my arms over my head, creating horns with my fingers attached to either side of my skull, as another student ran past me, clucking like a chicken.
“Hoot!” said Stacy, bumping me. “I read on OK Magazine that you and James moved in together!”
Some guy, immersed in the role of a duck, wiggled past me, as I turned towards her, pointing my goat horns at her.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I whispered.
She pouted, her glossy pink lips- shining.
Her silky blond locks were tied in a messy bun that threatened to trail over her spaghetti strapped shoulders.
“Don’t be a bore,” she hissed. “How was it?”
I scoffed, not believing what she was asking me, in class of all places!
Mr. Bukowsky, who was standing on a chair at the end of the stage, peered his head over the classroom farm he’d created, before narrowing his gaze at me.
“Ms. Web and Ms. Kendrick!” he snapped. “If you two would like, you may leave class, and discuss on and on whatever it is you’re so immersed in—“
“Hoot!” said Stacy, flapping her arms at the side. “Professor, you can’t call her ‘Ms.’, because she isn’t a Ms.…she’s a Mrs.! Mrs. Bellevue to be exact—“
I bumped an elbow against her side, hoping she would just shut up. The entire class of animals had stopped moving, staring at me with judgment filled over their eyes.
“I’m sorry, Professor,” I said. “I won’t disrupt the class again.”
“It’s alright,” he replied. “And what are the rest of you just standing there for? This is an exam!”
Exam?
“Be the soul of your chosen animal!” he continued. “Don’t just act it out…feel it out! That includes you Charles. You’re a dolphin…not a goldfish!”
We all sighed, as the animal exam continued. I glared at Stacy the majority of the time, attempting to ram into her with my goat horns, but she merely giggled.
Ugh. I really needed some normal friends.
I ate lunch at the back of a local diner near my school- a mystery novel laying open before me, as I entered another world. It was the latest book by my favorite novelist, Alice Himes. As I reached the second to last chapter, where the butler is about to poison the snooty owner of the Victorian mansion, a hand tapped my shoulder.
I turned to the side, my brows raised, as Professor Bukowsky towered over me.
“May I join you?” he asked.
I nodded. “Sure.”
He took the seat opposite me, placing the blue tray before him. A plastic bowl of mushroom soup rested on his plate, as he scooped a spoon within the soup, slurping it quietly. A water bottle stood beside the soup, as he opened it, taking a large gulp.
“Is that the new Alice Himes novel?” he asked, glancing at my open book.
“Yeah,” I said. “Do you read her books—“
He looked taken aback.
“I would never,” he said. “She’s over rated, if you ask me. A terrible writer—“
I glared. “Professor…forgive me for sounding rude…but you’re clearly misunderstanding her genius—“
He scoffed. “Genius? Hardly!”
For the next half hour, we debated on the literary credentials of Alice Himes. When the half hour ended, I told him I’d give him my book after I finished it, and if he still didn’t like it, then he was either insane, or had terrible taste.
“See you tomorrow, Professor,” I said.
He smiled. “Have a safe trip home.”
As I turned, standing from the chair, my ankle wrapped against the bottom leg of the seat, and in a heap, I tripped. I would have landed on the floor, had Professor Bukowsky not caught me, his hands curled over my waist, holding me up. I was in a dipping position, as he blinked slowly at me, staring in a way that made me uneasy. I looked away, clearing my throat, and he did the same. I stood, giving him an awkward smile- repeating my farewell.
I was above ground on the train, when my phone rang- April’s picture flashing over my small black screen.
“Hey, stranger,” I said. “You didn’t call me in a while—“
“Ok, forget that!” April snapped. “Did you see what’s trending on YouTube right now?”
She sounded erratic, as I gripped my hand tighter around the pole, looking out at the scenery from the wide window. The train wasn’t packed, but I enjoyed standing rather than sitting, for it gave me the chance to stare out at the passing scenery.
“I didn’t,” I said. “I’m on the train—“
“Well, basically, there’s a video of you and some bald, creepy looking old guy, and people are commenting on it saying what a cheating whore you are—“
“What are you talking about? I wasn’t with any…wait…oh, no.”
Could someone have taken a video of me and Professor Bukowsky while we were having lunch? But…that’s disgusting! That’s sick! That’s—
“It’s insane!” April cut through my thoughts. “There’s even a part where you fell, and he caught you, and the asshole who caught it on camera, edited it, saying you tripped on purpose. Dorothy, this is serious. It’s gotten over ten thousand likes and it’s only been an hour since the douche uploaded it—“
“Ten thousand!” I repeated. “You know what, April? I don’t care about it. I did nothing wrong, so I have nothing to be ashamed of. If people want to make something up, then that’s their problem—“
“But this isn’t about you anymore,” April said. “It’s about your marriage! What if James sees it?”
My grip over the metal pole tightened, as the white clouds outside the window, swiftly passed. I stared passed the rooftops of apartments, and noticed people walking down the streets- appearing like ants.
“He doesn’t give a damn about me, April,” I said. “He thinks I’m below him—“
“Who cares what he thinks,” she snapped. “But you’ve got to clear this video mess up with him when you get home! Even if he doesn’t care about you, he still cares about his reputation. He wouldn’t want people thinking he married a cheater.”
The train came to my stop, as I pressed the phone against my ear, walking out. It was crowded as usual, as I made my way past the maze of people, and walked down the wide steps.
“James can think whatever he wants,” I said. “He doesn’t care about me…so I won’t care about him—“
“You two had your first fight?” she asked.
“No,” I said, walking down the steps. “Not exactly—“
Another call beeped over my phone, as James’s name flashed on the screen. I stared at it for a moment, before deciding what I had to do.
“I’ll call you later, April,” I said. “I’m getting a call right now. Bye. Remember to feed Plunky. And tell Judy I said hi—“
We hung up, as I picked up the second call.
“What the hell, Dorothy,” James snapped.
He was livid, as venom dripped from his tongue, piercing my ears.
“Why, hello to you too,” I said.
“You had no other guys to cheat on me with?” he snapped. “No one else? You had to go find some middle aged, bald guy to screw?—“
“Don’t talk to me like that!” I snapped. “You’re misunderstanding—“
“I’m understanding everything just fine,” he said. “Get home. Now! We need to talk.”
I scoffed. “No.”
“What did you just say?” He spoke slowly, as though challenging me to disobey him.
I glared through the phone, walking past the subway, as the bright rays burned through my neck. As I headed down the street, I held back the urge to throw my phone against the ground, watching it shatter to a million little pieces.
“I said no, you egotistical, arrogant, maniac!”
I hung up the phone before he could object, thrusting it against my purse.
When I reached home, I stood before the door, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. Anger and nerves rushed through me at once, making my head throb just slightly, as I slipped a key into the door knob, twisting it open.
When I entered, I noticed James sitting by the window, his legs spread before him on the smooth, wooden floor. His cold eyes watched my movement, like a lion following its prey, as I closed the door, feeling my heart thump.
“Take a seat, Princess,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. “It’s going to be a long night.”
Chapter Thirteen
My footsteps echoed along the walls of the vast, empty, living room, as I made my way towards him. I walked towards the window, sitting on the other side- staring, for a moment, on the four feet of space that separated us. Evening light streamed through the tall, curtain less window, casting an orange glow over the deep brown wood.
I stared ahead, my gaze focused on the white door, as my hands clenched and unclenched against my lap. My heart thumped like small droplets of rain over stained glass, as I leaned back against the wall- wanting the night to end.
“We have nothing to discuss,” I said.
He laughed. “Are you sure about that? You put me in such a fucking awkward situation, and you say there’s nothing to discuss? That’s rich, that’s real—“
I snapped my head to the side, glaring at him.
“I didn’t put you in any situation! If you can’t trust me, that’s not my problem—“
“People like you don’t deserve trust.” He said this casually, as though making small talk.
I stood, my chest heaving, as I held back the incredible urge to stomp on his crisp black Armani shoes. There was a sly grin across his full lips, as his brow rose- staring at me as though I were a clown, sent for his amusement.
“What do you mean, people like me?” I snapped.
He shrugged, running a hand through his soft brown locks. His Adams apple rose and fell, as his golden eyes locked on mine, before staring past me, as though deciding I wasn’t even worth looking at.
“People who marry for money.” The words left his tongue slowly- each syllable cutting through my veins, as the sentence lingered in the air, like a cold silence.
The exhale of my breath was the only sound that passed between us, as he turned his focus on me- his eyes, expressionless.
“You know why I married you,” I said, my voice trembling. “It wasn’t for money! It wasn’t…it wasn’t at all for that—“
He stood, placing both hands within the pockets of his black trousers. His head tilted at the side- a cruel smile spread across his lips.
“It was precisely for that,” he insisted. “The shelter was just an excuse—“
“That’s not true! The shelter was the only reason I would marry an asshole like you!”
He took a step towards me, and I watched his approach, not trusting his next move. His poker face was spot on, but mine, was breaking, and crumbling, for tears threatened to drip past my lids. It took all that I had in me to not cry, because crying would make me an even bigger fool. My insides were trembling like an autumn leaf, but I would not cry. I could not cry.
My mouth went dry, as he took another few steps towards me, so that we were only a foot apart.
“If I’m such an asshole, then why did you kiss me?” There was an amused tremor to his voice.
I willed my gaze not to drop, but the more he stared at me with hard, unfamiliar eyes, the more I wanted to crawl into a corner and hide. But hiding was for cowards, and though I was a fool, I was not a coward.
“Because I wanted to,” I said, breathing deeply. “I don’t know…I felt something…I can’t explain it, but I just went with what I felt, and acted without thinking, and for that, I apologize. Not to you, but to myself. You weren’t worth it.”
For a second, pain struck his eyes, but he diverted his gaze to the ground, as if stopping to rearrange his mask. He stood tall, staring at me with anger clouded over his features- his jaw clenched.
“Let me tell you something, Princess,” he snapped, losing his cool façade. “You may have married me on the basis that I’d get that shit hole of a shelter saved, but it’s also something else—“
“The only shit hole in this room, is you!” I yelled, turning around so I could leave before I did something to him that I would only regret later on.
As I turned, his arm circled over my elbow, whipping me around, so that I hit his chest. My heart thumped wildly, as I tried to shake away from his touch, but he held me firm- his hands gripping both my arms in a tight lock. My eyes widened, as I stared at him- wide eyed, like a deer caught at gun point.
“Let go, or else I’ll—“
James’s arms wrapped firmly around me, locking me in place with a fierce hug, as he began walking us backwards. He was fast, his legs striding back, his arms tightening over my back, till we hit the cold, hard wall.
“Or else you’ll what?” His legs were pressed against mine, so that even if I wanted to, I could not kick him where it hurts.
“You’re an animal!” I snapped, glaring at him.
He scoffed. “That I am—“
“What the hell do you want from me?” I shouted. “It was just a video that some weirdo made! After a month, no one’s going to care about it! The world does not revolve around you, so no one gives a damn about that video! It affects you in no way, shape, or form—“
He pressed me tighter against him, and I gasped, as his brown eyes, raged in fury. The scent of cool mint withered across my cheek, as he stared at me with murder glinting over his orbs. I shivered, not liking the furious way he was staring at me, for it sent a wintry chill down the valley of my spine.
“It does fucking affect me!” James’s voice boomed against the walls of the living room, and I shook, surprised at how angry he was. “You aren’t meeting that man again. That’s final.”
I glared. “He’s my professor! You’re still misunderstanding everything! You only care about your stupid reputation—“
“Listen here, and listen well,” he whispered, his head dipping towards me till our lips were millimeters apart. “I don’t give a fuck about who sees that video. My reputation is and always has been, a mess, so that small, meaningless video won’t be able to do anything to me. In fact, it’ll add publicity. I should be thanking you for adding attention to us. But, I…I don’t know why…it’s just…it’s bothering the hell out of me just thinking about that dickhead touching you! You were sitting there, laughing with him, and smiling that pretty smile at him, and it’s driving me nuts just thinking about it. And to add icing to the cake…you fell into his arms, and he held you. It’s like you were in love with him and not…nothing.”
I had stopped struggling, as he spoke, letting that cold mask crumble off with every sentence he uttered. He looked almost afraid, as though worried he was losing something…losing me. I was at a loss for words, and for the first
time in my life, someone had managed to surprise me. I could read through people in a way that others read through text, but James was proving that he had more layers than I originally thought.
I didn’t think he liked me, but there was something he was afraid of. Almost like a fear of abandonment.
I thought about his mother, and how he’d gotten so mad when I asked about her. Had she left him and his dad? Of course, I would not assume what had happened to him, but I had a burning desire to ask.
James’s arms loosened around me, as he sighed, staring at me with eyes filled with a distant longing.
“He’s my teacher, James.” I spoke softly, my eyes never leaving his. “But…I don’t understand…I’m really confused. You don’t want me touching you…yet you hate anyone else touching me. How does that make sense—“
He backed up, flinging his arms away, as fear clouded over his gaze. He was not prepared for that question, and since he’d dropped his guard, I could tell he didn’t know how to re-adjust that cold façade.
“Shut up! Just shut up!” He snapped. “You’re…you’re trying to confuse me. That’s what you’re doing. This marriage, this stupid ass fake marriage is just a game. And you’re trying to turn this game into reality, and I’ll never let that happen. You were supposed to be a pawn…not a queen—“
I took a few steps towards him, hoping to calm him down for he looked terribly disturbed. He couldn’t meet my gaze, as he stared at the ground, backing up till he hit the kitchen counter.
“Just tell me what’s wrong.” I spoke slowly. “I can help—“
He slammed his fist against the smooth, marble counter- his white shirt, wrinkled against his chest. When scarlet blood trickled down his thumb, trailing down the counter, I ran towards him. He extended an arm towards me, shaking his head- his eyes narrowed, warning me not to near.
“You’re bleeding!” I said. “Let me help—“
He laughed- his eyes beginning to glisten with water. My heart ached for him, for he was in a self-deprecating pain, and I wondered how long he had lived with such a chip. Did he talk to his family about this? Did Richard know?