by Hotcheri
Even though I told CiCi that I wasn’t having a ‘crisis’, I lied, okay? I’d been up till late last night, reading up people’s aneurysm stories, just like I said. I didn’t wanna die, have a stroke or end up on life support but I had pretty good chances of going either way. The stories had spooked me so much that I woke up in a cold sweat twice in the middle of the night. And since I’m usually the heaviest sleeper ever, you see how scared I was.
And, judging by the look on my dad’s face, he didn’t give a damn about how I was doing. Why was I so surprised? Could be because I spent the afternoon with someone who actually cared about what I was going through. Every time I so much as coughed, CiCi looked anxious. I wasn’t gonna lie, I found that pretty cute. It had been a long time since anyone had shown concern for me.
“You’re still here, so I guess it hasn’t got you yet,” dad said, laughing at his own joke.
“Your powers of observation are truly outstanding,” I murmured. The prick wasn’t supposed to hear it, but I guess all that eavesdropping he did really sharpened his hearing.
“What?” he snarled, looking more like a bull dog than anything else.
Sighing, I got to my feet. “Nothing. Welcome back, padre. I’m going to my room.” I moved past him, feeling nauseous. I needed to lie down.
Dad spoke as I reached the door. “You forgot your tux,” he said coldly. “Go try it on. If it doesn’t fit, Hope will take it back and get you another one.”
Leaning my head against the oak door, I said, “Dad. I don’t know how clear I can make this. I’m not going to this or any other gala.” I turned around to face dad as I continued. He had a frown on his face, as usual. “I think galas are stupid and I’d rather be thrown in a pit with lions than spend hours in a room full of pervy old men and bored desperate housewives.”
Shaking the rolled up newspaper that was in his hand, dad glared at me. “Sometimes I wonder if you really are an Astor,” he said while I stared at him stonily. “Maybe that mother of yours had an affair with the pool boy.”
Typical. Every time dad wanted to get to me, he used my mom. Pretty weird, considering he had tried his hardest to eradicate everything in the house that reminded him of her when they got divorced.
“Keep hope alive,” I said, arching my eyebrows. “Unfortunately, we never had a pool boy because we don’t have a pool so you’re just gonna have to accept that I’m your son.” I put my hand on the door, ready to push it open. “So, if we’re done here...”
“Yes, unfortunately your mother didn’t start cheating on me until after you were born and the paternity tests prove that you are an Astor, so as part of your familial duty, I expect to see you at the gala in your tuxedo.” I opened my mouth to retort but he talked over me. “No ifs, ands, buts’ or maybe’s’.” He sneered at me. “Now you can leave. And change out of those stupid pajamas, you’re not 5 anymore.”
“I wonder if granddad ran your life like you’re trying to run mine?” I asked him conversationally, leaning against the door.
I was tired of being treated like a 3 year old by him. Even Faith got more leeway than I did these days. Sure, I went through a phase when my main goal was to piss dad off with everything I did. Sure, I got more DUI’s than I wanted to think about. Sure, I was once a selfish, fast living party boy. But Shane’s death made me re-evaluate my life and I decided that I didn’t much like myself. I still didn’t like myself much, but at least I was trying to change. Not that my dad noticed or cared.
“My father had no reason to run my life because I always behaved. Unlike you.” I rolled my eyes at the scornful look he tossed in my direction. “I’m pretty sure you’re trying to give me a heart attack.”
I scratched my chin. “Must not be trying hard enough.”
“I don’t see what else you could pull,” dad said, starting to pace up and down the living room, counting my misdemeanors off with his fingers. “We’ve been through the drugs, the drunk driving, the fights at school, the endless parties- way to cement your place in the screw-up hall of fame.” He stopped pacing and faced me, a triumphant glow in his eyes. “That’s all you’ll ever be, you know. My screw-up of a son.”
I shrugged, pretending that I didn’t care, but I did. All I had ever wanted was to be liked by my dad. Isn’t that all a kid ever wants, just to have a good relationship with his dad? But I never had the chance, because he never gave me a chance.
“The defective gene must come from your side of the family. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, you know,” I said cynically.
Dad’s top lip curled up. “If you keep up talking like that, I’ll make sure you never see a cent of your inheritance,” he said softly, jamming his hands into his jacket pockets. Probably so he wouldn’t snap and deck me. Smart man.
“Dad, I’ve got enough money in my trust fund to live on for the rest of my life,” I said wearily, my stomach churning. I felt like I was about to hurl. “And you know what; you’ve been talking about cutting me off for years! Maybe you should do it before one of us dies.”
Scowling at me, dad growled “Watch your mouth, young man.”
But I was just too riled up to care about the dangerous tone in his voice. My head hurt. I felt sick. I’d just witnessed a friend being chewed out by her own cousin. I didn’t feel good about anything! And I wasn’t about to let dad walk all over me. It was time for me to get something off my chest.
Shaking my head, I said “No, you’ve been having a problem with me since Shane died. Actually, you’ve had a problem with me my whole life, but since Shane died you’ve been a real dick about it. You got something you want to say to me, then go ahead and say it. If you don’t, quit nagging me!”
Dad stared at me for a long second, an inexpressive look on his face as my chest heaved with pent up rage.
Finally he said, “Find a suitable date for the gala. You’re going. And you’re wearing that tux.”
With that as his parting shot, he walked out of the living room, leaving no doubt as to who had won this round. I stared at the ceiling, my hands clenched into fists.
***
“I’m sorry; I don’t know what you’re bitching about.”
I looked up from my barely touched lunch, locking eyes with a vindictive looking Wendy.
“What?” I asked. I had just finished explaining the abbreviated version of my altercation with my dad and Wendy was showing no sympathy. Then again, what else did I expect from the ice queen herself?
She smirked, resting her head on Ahmed’s shoulder as he stuffed a handful of pretzels in his mouth. “We’re all being forced to go to this stupid gala, what makes you think you’re special enough not to go?”
The fact that I had a swelling in my brain that was currently making me see two Wendy’s?
But I couldn’t tell her that. She already thought I was being a baby by complaining about going to the gala. If she knew about the aneurysm, she’d probably label me a freak.
“Dude. I’m gonna have to wear horns at some point during that night,” Ahmed said in a glum tone, spraying crumbs on the table. “You’re lucky the most you’ll have to deal with is a stupid tux.”
I grinned. His cousin’s fashion show just got stranger and stranger as it approached.
“I wish I could see my sweetie in horns,” Wendy cooed, kissing Ahmed’s cheek.
“He combs his hair so they won’t show,” I joked, pushing spaghetti around in my plate.
Ahmed flipped me off. “Prick,” he grinned. He turned to Wendy, nuzzling her neck. “The only reason he knows about that is coz he’s my assistant.”
We all burst out laughing. It felt pretty good, just kicking back and not worrying about anything for the moment. Perfect way to spend Monday lunch.
In a cloud of perfume, Joanna was next to me, snaking an arm around my waist as she looked up at me. “What’s going on?” she asked curiously.
Making a face at me, Wendy replied, “Baby Luke here’s crying coz he’s being forced to go to the g
ala and he needs to find a date.”
Rolling her eyes, Joanna nodded. “Me too.” She rubbed her head on my shoulder, her hair feeling good against my cheek. “You should just take me, baby.”
I looked at her, a grin on my face. “Last time I checked, you had a boyfriend,” I said.
“Last time I checked, you didn’t care,” Joanna retorted.
Ahmed snorted with laughter. “Oh, snap!”
Tossing her head, Joanna said, “I don’t think Timothy would mind if you took me.”
I laughed. “Yeah, he wouldn’t mind coz he’d kill me!”
Being part of a love triangle was something I wasn’t up for.
Joanna leaned in closer to me, her lips brushing my ear. “I’ll make it worth your while,” she whispered breathily.
Playing along, I turned to look into her eyes. “Really?”
“If you two would stop breathing each other’s air for a sec, I need to ask you something, Joanna,” Wendy said, rapping on the table. “Where’d you get that top?”
The girls started chatting and I slouched in my chair. I had no intention of taking Joanna to the gala. What we had was an understanding- we could hook up in secret and absolutely nobody could know about it. Yet somehow the entire school knew, Joanna’s boyfriend included. I strongly suspected the only reason he hadn’t called me out yet was because Joanna asked him not to. I didn’t know why Joanna still wanted me when she’s been the one who dumped me but it was six months later and we were still hooking up. It wasn’t healthy though.
I looked up as Joanna and Wendy finished talking, a piercing laugh catching my attention. Ahmed jumped in his seat, staring around the canteen.
“Dammit, could Robyn possibly get any louder?” Wendy asked, clapping her hands to her ears. “She’s like a freaking hyena!”
“She’s so loud that...” Ahmed started, regaling them with a story about Robyn and her vocal range while I caught a glimpse of CiCi, carrying a tray and laughing at something Shazia said as she sat down.
She didn’t look hurt or in any pain and a weight rolled off my heart, to my surprise. I guess I didn’t know how worried I was that Nate had hurt her physically till now. Luckily, here she was, looking as pretty and fresh faced as always and I just couldn’t stop looking at her as she tossed her curly hair over her shoulder.
As if sensing my eyes on her, CiCi glanced up and our eyes met for the longest second. Her lips parted and she looked as pole axed as I felt as something passed through the air between us. Something intense that made my heart thud and had nothing to do with the nausea I was still enduring and everything to do with CiCi herself.
I blinked and the moment passed. CiCi’s lips curved upwards into a smile and she lifted her hand in a wave. Automatically, I waved back and Ahmed punched my shoulder.
“Dude, are you hitting that?” he leered.
I snorted. “What? Just coz I waved at her?” Shook my head. “Mind out of the gutter.”
Wendy wrinkled her nose in CiCi’s direction. “Wasn’t she mad at you coz you called her a skank?” she asked.
Joanna laughed, squeezing my arm. “You called her a skank?” she echoed.
I sighed. “Not my proudest moment,” I admitted. “We sorted it out, though.”
I wasn’t going to tell them how we sorted it out, though.
“And now you’re tight enough to wave at each other?” Ahmed asked curiously. Always trying to make a big deal out of nothing.
“It was just a tiny wave, no big deal,” I said, suddenly sounding defensive but not really knowing why.
“OMG. You know what you should do?”
We all looked at Wendy as her eyes shone with an idea.
“What?” I asked, dreading the answer. It was gonna be stupid and mean, I could tell.
“Awesome way to piss off daddy.” Wendy leaned in closer to me. “Invite Celsi to the gala.”
I raised my eyebrows, popping my knuckles. “Why would that piss off my dad?”
“Hello, she’s poor!” Wendy said it like I ought to have remembered this vital piece of information. She beamed. “You can pretend you’re in love with her, your dad would hate it!”
I didn’t even bother thinking about it. Not that pretending to be in love with CiCi would be hard, she had a certain something about her that I already liked. But Wendy’s suggestion was anything but nice and I didn’t even want to contemplate it.
Joanna nodded fervently. “Good idea! Your pops would flip over that.” She chuckled. “Or you could pull a Carrie on her.”
I stared at her, my eyes narrowed. “Pull a Carrie? Am I supposed to know what that means?” I asked, confused as I stole a pretzel from Ahmed’s plate.
Wendy giggled, her shoulders shaking. “You know, invite her to the gala and pour pigs blood all over her.”
“But you better make sure she doesn’t have supernatural powers before you do that, otherwise you’re screwed,” Ahmed put in, his face perfectly serious.
“That’s disgusting! Why would I want to do that?” I asked, looking incredulously around the table at my friends.
“For fun, duh!” Wendy rolled her eyes.
“He didn’t watch Carrie coz he was sleeping when I watched it, so he has no idea what we’re talking about.” Joanna patted my arm.
“I don’t have to watch it to know that you guys are evil.” I stood up, shaking my head. “I gotta go.”
“Go where?” Joanna looked up at me, sounding desperate. “We’re having a conversation here!”
I needed some fresh air. “I got some stuff to do,” I said vaguely, raising my hand in a salute. “Later, guys.”
As I left the canteen, I laughed to myself. Take CiCi to the gala? I wouldn’t wish that on my biggest enemy!
***
About an hour before school was out I found myself patrolling the hallways during study period. I was bored and I didn’t have anything to study for. I guess I could have called home for a ride but dad was staying at home today and I really didn’t feel like having it out with him today. I was still pretty drained from Saturday night’s back and forth. When dealing with him, you needed to be on top of your game, both physically and mentally. I definitely hadn’t been, thanks to watching Nate snap on CiCi.
At the thought of Nate, an idea popped into my head. I didn’t have to go home. Why couldn’t I just text CiCi, arrange a meet with her somewhere and ask her about her family life as casually as I could? Hell, I could even kill two birds with one stone and take her to Baskin Robbins for ice cream and also knock off another item off my list.
Marveling at my smart plan, I pulled out my cell phone and quickly texted CiCi, hoping her phone was on vibrate. ‘Hey CiCi, how you doing? You want to get ice cream at Baskin Robbins after school? We can meet in Central Park. Text me back if that sounds good.’
I hummed along to a song under my breath as I aimlessly walked down the hall, getting closer to the art department as I waited for CiCi’s answer. Finally it came and I felt a sudden eagerness as I read it.
‘Sounds great! About 3.45? Might be a bit late but I’ll be there for sure! See you then!’
Anticipation swept through me but I barely had time to think about why I was so stoked to be meeting with CiCi. As I passed an ordinary supply closet, a pair of hands grabbed the front of my t-shirt and pulled me in.
I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the light as I squinted at the person in front of me.
“Joanna?” It was her! She was glowering at me. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“Since when do you care?” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. I groaned. Great.
“You’re mad at me.”
Her eyes flashed. “Of course I’m mad at you, Luke! You shot me down in front of your friends! How was I supposed to feel, happy that you don’t want to take me to the gala?”
Everybody needed to back off about the stupid gala!
“Jo, we both know you weren’t serious about that.”
Or was s
he? Judging from the irate expression on her face, she had been serious about me taking her to the gala. But why?
“Yes I was.”
“Why do you wanna go with me?” I had to ask. I cocked my head, staring at her. “You have a boyfriend! Why don’t you just go with him?”
This was so 5th grade.
“I just don’t want to go with him,” Joanna said, sounding like a petulant child.
I shrugged. “If you go with me Timothy will kill me. You’re a babe but- I don’t wanna risk my life for you,” I joked, trying to make her laugh.
She scowled harder. “Very funny.”
I sighed. “Just go with the guy! You’ll have fun!” Running a hand through my hair, I bit my lip. “I don’t see what the problem is.”
“You’re the problem,” Joanna blurted out, a defiant look on her face.
“How?”
Joanna closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “He isn’t you! He’ll never be you and I hate that!”
I moved closer to her, running a finger down her cheek. “Jo, you dumped me,” I reminded her softly. She looked up at me.
“And I regret it,” she said, just as softly as she wrapped her arms around me, pressing her lips against mine.
As we went through the familiar motions, her hands fumbling with my belt, my hands tangled in her thick hair as I kissed her back, I suddenly wondered what it would be like to have CiCi in my arms. Holding her, touching her, making her moan softly just like Joanna was doing right now. My eyes flew open and I jerked back, pulling away from Joanna’s lips.
What.
The.
Fuck?
Why was I thinking about CiCi when I was with Joanna? Why was I thinking about CiCi in that way in the first place?
Joanna stared up at me, her eyes hooded sexily. “You wanna take my top off or should I?” she whispered.
“Jo, I gotta go,” I said, running a finger over my slightly swollen lips as I buckled up my belt.