Beneath Our Faults

by Charity Ferrell

  I closed the gap between the two of us and she smiled in victory. "Piper," I groaned out, sliding my hands down her waist and she pressed into me. My fingers tightened around her, picking her up in the air and carrying her through the room until I reached the door. She looked down at me surprised before I opened the door, setting her outside the room, still half naked.

  "Stay the fuck away from me," I hissed, slamming the door in her face and locking it just in case she had any other ideas. My lungs released a sharp breath and I heard a harsh "fuck you" from the other side of the door. Shaking my head, I turned out the light and dropped back down on the bed, rubbing the back of my neck in exhaustion.

  I STOOD at the end of my bed, staring down at the tiny slivers of fabric displayed in front of me. My favorite metallic green swimsuit was waiting for me to decide its fate; whether it got to accompany me or get thrown back into my dresser where it belonged. I picked up the suit, examining the two pieces before tossing it back onto my bed in frustration. Why was I so worked up about a damn bathing suit?

  Screw it.

  I snatched them and threw the suit into my bag before I had a chance to change my mind. Just because I brought it didn't mean I had to actually put it on.

  I looked up the weather on my phone and the forecast said it was going to be snowing the entire time we were going to be in Tennessee, which made me excited because we weren't getting anything in Atlanta. Shuffling into my closet, I grabbed my snow boots, shoved them in my bag and zipped it up. My phone chirped and I grabbed it.

  CORA: Leaving Lane's now enroute to your casa chicka

  ME: Sounds good. See you in a few.

  I picked up my bag, struggling as I dragged it off the bed. I really needed to hit the gym and get some muscles. The doorbell rang.and I looked out my doorway.

  "Keegantor is here!" Sophia's high-pitched voice sang from downstairs. I pulled my suitcase by the handle and it bumped each stair on my way down.

  Keegan stood in the entry way chuckling. "I figured I better come make sure you weren't going to try to bail on us," he said, grabbing my bag from me. "Jesus, is there a small child in this thing?"

  I laughed. "Yeah, I have my midget boyfriend in there I'm sneaking in with me."

  "Kinky, I like it."

  "What does kinky mean?" Sophia asked, stepping in between the two of us.

  "It means smiles," Keegan answered, looking very proud of his answer.

  "That's not true," I rushed out. "That's a bad word you're not allowed to say."

  "What the hell was wrong with my answer?" Keegan asked when we walked out the front door to Lane's Escalade.

  I turned around to look at him. "Smile? Was that the best you could come up with? Just wait until she tells my aunt that watching cartoons makes her kinky. Good answer then?"

  "Point proven," he agreed, stopping me and grabbing me around the waist before we reached the car. "You are going to have fun on this trip, even if I have to force it out of you."

  CORA COUGHED and downed the shot of tequila. "Blugh, it sucks we don't have blackmail on you, Daisy." The four of us were seated around the kitchen table, a bottle of tequila planted in the middle. A shot glass was filled to the rim with the dark liquid in front of each one of us, with the exception of the one Cora just drained.

  It was my first time playing the drinking game, Never Have I Ever, and never did I ever want to play it again. If you wanted to call someone out or worm your way into their deepest, darkest secrets, this was the game for you. I pointed over to her. "Or it sucks I don't have any blackmail on any of you. It's like three against one over here," I replied, the slur in my voice prevalent. "It's hard to play this game when you don't know people's weaknesses.”

  Lane grabbed Cora's shot glass, refilling it. "Your turn, baby," he said, setting the glass back on the table.

  "Thank you, Jesus," she moaned out, leaning her chin on her knuckle, thinking. "Never have I ever," she paused, "had a threesome." The words rushed out of her mouth so fast they sounded like one.

  Keegan let out a deep groan, winked at us and was not surprisingly the only person in the room who reached out for their glass. Of course, he's had a threesome. The boy probably participated in routine orgies at his house while I was next door sleeping.

  A tiny twinge of pain lurked into my thoughts of him touching them in ways he would never touch me. Keegan and I were just friends, I always told myself and everyone else. Sure, he did flirt with me from time to time, but he flirted with everyone that had a vagina. I was just his neighbor.

  I shook my head and fixated on him lifting the slender shot glass to his lips, tipping his head back and draining it like a pro. A bang erupted as he slammed his glass down on the wooden table and he started laughing.

  Everyone stared at him, clueless as to what was so funny. His torso tilted and he leaned back into his chair with his arms folded behind his neck. He eyed Cora before pointing his index finger at her. "That was a fucking test," he boomed, " a mother fucking test."

  Huh?

  Cora crossed her arms, giving him a stiff stare. "I honestly have no idea what the hell you and your drunkass are talking about," she snapped. Lane looked from his girlfriend to Keegan, wrinkling his nose while I waited for someone to tell me what I was missing.

  "Oh silly Cora, you wanted to make sure Lane was a good little boy during your little break up you two had, didn't you? Come on, that was obvious," Keegan snorted.

  "It's your turn, asshole," Cora snarled, sliding the tequila bottle over to him harshly.

  Keegan's turn never happened because Volcano Lane erupted. "You really think I would do that fucking shit, Cora?" he sprung to his feet, stumbling and showing us how drunk he actually was. "How many times have I told you that Piper is a stupid, lying whore that I would never touch?" His eyes were blazing fire staring down at her while she stiffened in the chair next to me.

  "Baby," she said, suddenly, closing her eyes and taking a calming breath. "We were playing a game and I was calling Keegan out," she assured, her smile tight in an attempt to calm him down.

  Lane grabbed the tequila bottle, bringing it to his lips and taking a giant swig. Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, he brought his arm back and heaved the bottle across the room. A loud crash and the sound of glass breaking vibrated through the room. "I've told you a million fucking times I never did shit with that fucking slut! A million! How many more times do I need to go over this same bullshit with you before you get it through that thick headed skull of yours, Cora? Huh? Do we need to break up again for you to realize that I would never do anything to hurt you!"

  Okay, someone needed to calm monster Lane down. I looked at Cora then Keegan, both of them sitting there like lumps on a log. I kicked Keegan under the table and his eyes snapped my way. "Do something," I mouthed. He shook his head, looking away and ignoring my request. Asshole.

  Lane's chest heaved in and out as sweat began to glisten around his hairline. The chair next to me slid against the marble floor and Cora stood next to him.

  "Hey" she whispered gently, grabbing his shaking hands. "Stop." I waited for her to say more, but that was it. She just stood there looking at him. Wow, don't ever let Cora attempt to talk someone off the ledge.

  "Fuck it.” Pulling her hands away from him like they were toxic, he broke away from her and stormed out of the room. Well, this trip had just done a complete one eighty. The room was restrained until a loud bang of the door slamming echoed from up the stairs.

  "What the hell," Cora groaned. “I'm going to go check on him and make sure his drunk-ass doesn't do anything stupid.” She gave a quick wave over her shoulder and darted up the stairs.

  "Why didn't you do anything?" I snapped, when Cora made it to Lane's bedroom and out of earshot.

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Not my circus, not my monkeys." He walked into the kitchen and opened a cabinet.

  "Vodka?" He asked, lifting his eyebrows and strolling back to the table. He screwed off the cap, f
illed his glass to the rim with liquor and smiled at me from across the table.

  The insides of my stomach flip-flopped at the mention of the word, like it remembered the last time I was in its presence. Fully aware I was going to regret it later, I grabbed the cold shot glass in front of me and drained the rest of the tequila. My eyes never left his face as understanding dawned and he gulped down his own shot.

  "Lane gets crazy when it comes to Cora," he said, pointing out the obvious and filling his shot glass again. "When they had their little break or whatever the fuck they called it, Piper spread a shit ton of rumors acting like a pissed off child because he blew her off. One of them had something to do with some bullshit rumor that he had a threesome with her and some cheerleader skank. Complete bullshit. Everyone knows that shit isn't true, including Cora. She's just drunk and letting the alcohol get to her head." His arm reached across the table and grabbed my glass. "That girl is his fucking Achilles heel."

  "Do you think they are going to be okay?" I asked, holding my arm out to grab the shot glass he filled back up. He sat down in Cora's abandoned chair.

  My inebriated head began to spin lightly at our close proximity. When I took the shot glass from him, the touch of our hands caused my body heat to rise.

  "They are going to be okay," he said, finally letting go of the glass so I could have it. "Those two shits are going to get married and have their two point five little hellions running around, causing chaos everywhere they go. It's scary to think I will be related to Cora someday," he shuddered.

  "It's scarier to think there will be little Lanes someday," I added. I swiftly took the shot glass and leaned across the table for the bottle.

  "Whoa there," Keegan chuckled, stopping me before my fun sized arms got to the bottle. "I think that might just be enough for you. I know from experience you don't handle alcohol that well. Plus, you don't want to feel like shit tomorrow."

  “Awe man," I whined, setting my head down on the table. "When did you become so concerned with the well-beings of the female population?"

  He frowned.

  "I am so so sorry!" said, before he was the next person to throw a bottle across the room. "I didn't mean it like that."

  "It's cool," he said. "You're right. I don't give two shits about the majority of the chicks I hook up with but I do care about a few.” He leaned in closer to my chair, brushing his hand against my cheek. "I care about my aunt and Cora," he told me gently, sweeping the bangs that were covering my eyes. "And I do care about you."

  His mouth twitched into a smile, shooting tingles through my entire body. "Okay," he said, drawing out the word slowly and breaking us from our staring game. "Hot tub or scary movie?"

  Hot tub! The words were on the tip of my tongue but they didn't pass go. Deep down, I knew it was a bad idea. A real bad idea. We were both clearly on our way to being drunk. Add being half-naked in steaming water in the mountains, and swim suits would be getting lost. Bad idea.

  He took my hand and nearly dragged me out of my seat, causing me to stumble straight into his hard chest. My fingers ached with the need to run over his soft skin again. He backed away slowly. Still keeping our hands interlaced, we walked into the giant living room.

  He stopped us when we made it to the black leather couch and I took that as my cue to sit down. He patted my leg, walking around the couch and opening up a large trunk to grab a furry blanket.

  "Here," he said, throwing the blanket over my crouched body. "I usually don't complain about this but you might want to snuggle up with more clothes next time we come here." Next time we come here?

  "Thanks," I mumbled, shivering and wrapping myself into a cocoon of warmth. He moved around the room, his plaid pajama pants hanging loosely around his waist, adding firewood to the fireplace. Colorful flames shot up when he threw the lit match in after them.

  "Alright babe, you've got a few options," he announced, opening up a cabinet. "Scream or Nightmare on Elm Street?"

  "Scream," I answered, rubbing my hands together.

  "It looks like we have just about every Scream in here that has ever been made," he revealed, skimming through the vast collection of DVDs stacked in the cabinet.

  "I choose the series," I explained, picking at the blanket. "Now you pick the movie."

  "How about we start with numero uno and see how many we can make it through before we go comatose?"

  "Sounds good to me.” My dad and I used to do that together but I could never make it past the third one of any series before falling asleep.

  "Be right back," he threw over his shoulder, disappearing back into the kitchen and coming back with an armful of food and water. "I have popcorn, candy and water so we won't be hung over slobs playing out in the snow tomorrow and drown."

  I chuckled. "Drown in the snow? You know you only drown if your lungs are filled up with water, right?

  "I never pay attention in health class," he shrugged, setting down the food on the table in front of us. "I'm always too distracted."

  I jerked my head back looking at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "You're in my health class, how can I pay attention?" The movie started before I had a chance to answer him. Only ten minutes had passed before I began to feel the nausea rumbling into my stomach. Shit! I couldn't puke. Reaching for the water bottle on the table, I chugged its entire contents. Don’t puke. Don't puke.

  "You've really had a threesome?" I asked, finally gaining the nerve to ask him the question that had been bugging me.

  "I have," he answered. "Does that bother you?" Hell yeah it bothered me. Should it bother me? Hell no.

  "It just seems a little…um advanced for someone in high school," I replied, leaning up to tuck my knees underneath me.

  "Baby, there's a lot of shit that happens that some would say is too advanced for high school." I wasn't exactly sure what he meant but the way he said it made me feel like what I had just said sounded childish.

  "I've only been with one person," I blurted, without thinking. Thank you alcohol for bringing out the honest and open Daisy. "So I really wouldn't know too much about being advanced," I told him, explaining my lack of experience.

  He eyed me warily. "And is that supposed to be a bad thing?"

  No," I drawled out. "I swear everyone, except for Gabby and I, are crazy sex fiends around our school."

  "You don't like sex?" He asked, his question catching me off guard.

  "I-I never said that," I stuttered, blinking.

  "So you do like sex.”

  "Ugh," I groaned, face diving into the blanket to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. "We are not having this conversation."

  "Sure looks like we are, sweetheart.”

  "Pay attention to the movie, this conversation is over.”

  "Oh babe, this conversation is just getting started," he argued, ignoring what I had just said. "I'm guessing it's the ex-boyfriend?”

  I nodded.

  "Was it just once?"

  My eyebrows drew together. "Why?"

  "I'm just curious on why you are so embarrassed talking about sex. It's a natural thing, ya know?" He smirked, leaning over and tapping his finger on my forehead.

  I was only eighteen; my sex life was just learning to crawl. "I'm not embarrassed about sex," I argued back. "I just don't do it with everyone like you do."

  "I don't have sex with everyone."

  "How many girls have you have sex with then?" I questioned.

  "You want the truth?" He asked, snagging a popcorn kernel and throwing it in his mouth.

  "No, I want you to lie," I snorted. "Duh, I want the truth."

  "Then your answer is fuck if I know," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

  "I'm not sure where "fuck if I know" is at on the numerical scale, but that's a pretty sad answer," I remarked. "I also think it further proves my point."

  "It's not like I keep a little black book of all the girls I've hooked up with.”

  "Maybe you should." I knew girls at
school who had lists of all the guys they had hooked up with so they could keep count.

  "Eh no, I don't kiss and tell," he explained. "What happens between the girl and I is our business.”

  "Rumor has it you've never even had a girlfriend before.”

  "Rumor is correct for once."

  "Out of all the ‘fuck if I know’ girls you've been with, you haven't wanted more with them?" I asked, playing with a strand of my hair. "Not even one?"

  "I didn't exactly believe in relationships?"

  "You didn't or you don't?"

  "I didn't. After careful consideration lately, I've been thinking you can't knock something before you try it."

  "So you changed your mind?” I asked, prying. "Why?"

  He exhaled a deep breath. "I've always thought love was some bullshit term people used to make themselves and other people feel better. I've lost count of how many times I had to pick my crying, drunken mom off the floor wailing about how some guy promised he loved her, but still left her. The funny part was that the next night, she would have a new guy in her bed. Love is both a weakness and a strength to people. When you tell someone you love them, you have created a weakness for yourself because that person knows how strongly you feel about them. When someone tells you they love you, you've just gained yourself strength because you now own those people. Just like all those men did with my mom."

  "That's just one situation. You can't base the whole concept of love on one person's experience with it."

  He scoffed. "Oh baby, I've seen more than one experience. If only you could be a fly on the wall in the locker room or at porn shoot. There are so many people who claim to be happily married there, actors, directors or even crew, yet they cheat on their "loved ones" all the damn time. I mean, look at you, obviously you've loved before and look how unhappy you are now."

  "My situation is different.”

  "Is it?”

  "Uh, yes." Okay, I was starting to get pissed.

  "You’re right, it is,” he said, catching on to my attitude change. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I only said it because people believe they are untouchable when they are in love, but they’re not. When you love someone, you usually set yourself up for disaster later.”