by Blair Holden
Chapter Seven: It’s Spoon Lifting, Not Grand Theft Auto!
“I’m not signing that.”
“It’s not like you actually have a choice—sign it.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“How do I know you’re not going to use my signature to, I don’t know, take away all my life savings?”
“Yes, because working at Rusty’s has made you quite the billionaire.” He rolls his eyes.
“I will let you know that I have a respectable amount in my bank account.”
“Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart, now just sign this.”
I shake my head vigorously and once again push the napkin toward Cole. We’ve been going at it for about twenty minutes and by this point I’m pretty sure that the waitresses are under the impression that they’re witnessing an illicit drug deal. It would be understandable, though, since it’s about 11 p.m. on a Saturday night with the two of us sitting in a corner booth arguing over a contract that sounds highly suspicious.
“Okay, okay how about this, if you sign this napkin I’ll join your Range Rover crusade. Your parents love me already so if I were to drop hints here and there, it could speed up the process.”
I lean forward on the table, suddenly very interested in this deal. “Would you really do that?”
“We can talk about how amazing I am some other day, Tessie, we’ve got a very important napkin waiting to be signed.” He grins and I give him my best withering stare.
I groan in defeat and slide the napkin toward me, sign my name with the borrowed Sharpie and then slide it back toward Cole, who’s looking so smug that I want to wash that expression right off his face.
With the acid our cleaner sometimes uses to clean the toilets.
“There, now was that so hard?”
I am this close to dumping my strawberry ice cream over his head but honestly, I could never do that to my precious, precious ice cream. It deserves so much better than to be wasted on a douche doodle like him.
Right, of course explanations are in order as one might get confused because of our conversation. Let’s rewind and go back to the party, even though that’s probably the last thing I ever want to do, but for the sake of storytelling it must be done. See, after my knight in shining armor or in this case, my fool riding his much-too-expensive Volvo, rescued me and after we had our little moment, things got awkward. It’s almost painful to remember him passing me tissue after tissue and me bawling like the weakling I am.
I haven’t told him though. I haven’t said a word about why I’d flooded his car faster than the Titanic and he hasn’t asked though I know he’s dying to. Maybe it’s the tapping foot or the fingers drumming consistently on the table but I just know that he wants me to spill my guts.
Maybe that’s why he’s brought me to Rocco’s twenty-four-hour diner, to bribe me with the one weakness I have left from my Fatty Tessie days, well, apart from KitKats. I’m currently on my third serving of the delectable ice cream and with the way I’m inhaling it, I have a feeling that I’ll soon be sharing, pouring my heart out to him just so he buys me more ice cream.
Now the contract, or rather the ratty napkin, that’s getting a little worse for wear because of us tugging at it endlessly, the napkin is meant to seal a deal between us. By signing it, I will be admitting that I lied about Cole being the reason I once broke my arm in middle school. The reason that actually happened was that I’d followed Jay to the skating rink, lovesick idiot that I was. Given my utter lack of coordination, things had not ended well but the silver lining was that I’d been able to pin the blame on Cole and one of his pranks—heck, Jay even helped corroborate it. Both sets of parents believed me as opposed to him and let’s just say he got in a lot of trouble. Now Cole’s trying to clear his name and even as we fight, I realize that he’s only trying to distract me and I’m relieved to know that it’s kind of working.
I shake my head as if physically trying to remove memories of the incident from my mind and spoon some more ice cream into my mouth since it’s the only thing that’s keeping me relatively close to sanity. The night obviously hasn’t gone according to plan and my first attempt at entering the party circuit led to me being assaulted in a bathroom. I shudder as I remember the vicious look Nicole gave me as she left; it was like she suddenly decided to experiment with cannibalism and I would be her first meal. I don’t know what I’ve done to make her hate me so vehemently. No one hates another person so much without a solid reason, and the Nicole I used to know never did anything without a motive.
I feel someone kick me beneath the table and I drop my spoon to the floor in surprise. I gape at Cole, who’s snickering in his seat. He doesn’t realize how serious this is! The staff at Rocco’s is horrible, especially the ones on the night shift. Most of them lock themselves up in the supply room and do God knows what in there until the morning shift. Now where would I get a new spoon from and how on earth would I finish my poor ice cream?
“What is wrong with you?” I growl as I get out of my seat and head toward the counter. Working at a rival diner I’ve learned a few things so I know the right places to look if I need extra cutlery. Usually they’d keep it in drawers near the cash register so that the limited number of workers wouldn’t have to run back and forth. I jump over the counter and sure enough the telltale chest of drawers is there; the only thing that could possible work against me now is if the drawer is . . .
Locked. The darn drawer is locked!
“Are you planning on robbing the place?” Cole sounds like he’s standing right behind me and sure enough as I twist my body slightly and crane my neck, he’s standing there smirking at me.
“I’m trying, Stone, to find myself a spoon so that I can eat my ice cream.” I pull the handles a couple of times but it’s useless. They’re locked and the manager has the key. From the way he’d been winking at our waitress, one could only guess what the two were up to.
“You’re really attached to that stuff, aren’t you?” He’s still standing there being completely useless and annoying. It’s because of him that I’m going to have to steal cutlery or possibly break into the supply room.
“It would be really nice of you if you stopped talking and try figuring out a way to help me.”
He snorts and pushes me aside with ease. Taking my place in front of the drawers he tells me, “Watch and learn, rookie.”
He takes out a screwdriver from his back pocket and in a move that is surprisingly normal to me he begins picking the lock.
“Of course I forgot, I’m hanging out with a delinquent,” I say dryly and he winks at me.
“Only for you, babe.”
“Gross! Don’t ever call me that again.”
He bursts out laughing at that point, the top drawer swinging open as he backs away, doubling over. I look at him like he’s finally become the lunatic that he’s been threatening to become since the day I met him. But all of a sudden the sound of his laughter begins to ring merrily in my ear and not shrilly; all of a sudden I just want to stand there and watch him laugh, my heart flip-flopping inside my chest.
“I was referring to the pig, shortcake.”
Well, this is uncomfortable.
After the criminal and I have stolen, no, borrowed the spoon, I finish my ice cream in peace and make a run for it. I can’t help but look over my shoulder fearing Betsy the waitress will come running after us and throw her lethal skates at us.
Oh snap out of it, Tessa, its spoon-lifting not grand theft auto!
We escape with great stealth, especially on my part, and Cole heads toward my house. I know he’s barely holding in laughter because of my actions, but I’m not a seasoned delinquent like him and even if it was a spoon, I did steal it. He’s turning me into a criminal too! I really need to stop letting him hang around me so much. In fact, when he drops me off I’m going to ask him to stop blackmailing me into spending time with him. I need to stand up for myself and show him that he can’t just walk all over me.
“Tessie?” he asks, breaking the spell of the thoughts I’m currently having, ones which consist of me chasing him out of my house with a gigantic baseball bat in my hand. He’s staring at the road ahead but with the way his knuckles are tightening around the steering wheel I can tell that his mind is somewhere else and he’s not exactly thinking positive thoughts.
“Yeah?” I ask a little hesitantly since I know where this conversation is going. I don’t know if I’m ready to answer his questions, especially since I’m already trying to block the memory of Hank and his filthy hands from my mind forever.
“Have you been hurt?”
His words hang in the air and at the same time it feels like they’re weighing me down, some kind of anchor dragging me down with it as it sinks. I ponder his question as we drive down the quiet road. I’m not hurt—well, not physically at least, but mentally it’s an entirely different ballgame. I’m terrified, feeling like every visible part of my skin is covered in filth and that any moment Hank could show up to finish what he started. Add to that the painful bump on my head acting as a constant reminder of what happened, I could honestly admit that yes, I’m hurt, even if it’s not visible.
“No.”
I never said I could honestly admit it to Cole, though.
We’re both quiet as my words hang in the air.
“If you hate me right now, I understand. I said that I’d take care of you and I failed. But please just . . . tell me what happened. You looked so hurt, so scared. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the look on your face. Whoever did that deserves the worst kind of hell.” He grits his teeth.
My lips start to wobble and I almost give in, almost. He’s right to assume that I’m angry at him. Of course he’s not Nicole and neither is he Hank but pinning this on him gives my anger an immediate outlet. I almost tell him about what happened but I know he has a history of violence so the probability of him going off the deep end is very high. I don’t need things to escalate and what I really should do is nip this thing in the bud while I’ve got the chance.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Maybe you talk about it and what I really . . .” He pushes and I groan.
“I just don’t want to.”
“Will you ever want to?”
“I’m not sure.” I wring my hands looking down at my lap.
He doesn’t push me again but the silence that falls is just as nerve-wracking. My heart starts to race and my stomach clenches uncomfortably as Cole drives down the road. The need to tell someone, especially Cole makes me taste bile because saying the necessary words make me want to throw up.
“I need some time,” I tell him and from the corner of my eye I see him flinch. It has to be bad enough that I can’t even talk about it and watching the realization hit him is painful.
“Right.” He swallows heavily. “Whenever you’re ready.’
The car comes to a stop outside my house and I rush out, greedily breathing in the fresh air like I’d just been underwater. Hoping to get as far away from Cole as possible before I end up saying too much, I rush inside and then curse inwardly when I realize that I’ve forgotten my house keys, again. I hear Cole come up behind me and I turn away from him as he unlocks the door and lets me go in first.
***
I can hear footsteps behind me as I walk into my living room; I’m still shaking just a little not knowing if it’s because of Cole’s proximity or the aftereffects of the party. I know it’s him, of course it’s him, and he’s turning out to be as opposed to giving me some space as a kangaroo is to its newborn.
“Tessie, wait—”
“No, okay, no. I’m done, I’m just done with everything. I told you I need some time and space and you still follow me in here. What do you want from me?” I cry out, facing him, and he clenches his jaw, his eyes ablaze with what I’m expecting to be fury but it’s not, it’s something else entirely.
“I just want to make sure you’re okay.” His voice is soft as he approaches me like I’m a wounded animal.
“Why? After everything you’ve ever put me through, do you honestly expect me to share my deepest darkest secrets with you? Was that your master plan, Cole, because if it was, then I have to say military school sure as hell destroyed you.”
He looks winded as though I’ve struck him and maybe that was what I intended, a verbal slap to the face. I’m lashing out, I need someone to take all my anger out on and he’s the nearest target.
“I’m the last person who’d ever want to hurt you. I know I’ve done some stupid things in the past but . . .” he struggles to find words, “I would never intentionally do anything now that could hurt you even a little.”
“How can you expect me to believe that? You think you can just waltz back into my life and try to, what, fix it? Have you ever thought about the fact that there’s a reason I don’t try to do something about it all? I don’t want to get myself involved in something I can’t handle!”
His face softens and he takes a few steps so that he’s now closer to where I’m breathing rather heavily. I’m still angry but I know now that it’s not him that my anger is directed toward.
“You’re strong, Tessie, you’re so strong and I know that more than anyone else.”
“Is it because I still haven’t kicked the bucket despite all your attempts?” I say dryly. It’s a desperate attempt to end our argument. I just don’t feel comfortable whenever things get confusing between us. It needs to be either black or white, he either needs to be relentlessly bullying me or ignoring me. I don’t like it when we lose sight of what the nature of our relationship is actually like.
“Oh please, I couldn’t hurt a fly. Beneath this hot, sexy, rugged exterior there’s a heart of gold.” Cole, I think, wants us to stop talking about feelings just as much as I do. We come to a silent acceptance to raise the white flag, for now.
“I think you meant stone, Stone.” I push past him and toward the refrigerator. Taking out a bottle of water I unscrew the cap and gulp greedily. Between all the crying and screaming one sure does get thirsty. Beside me, Cole takes a minute to cool down and I see him tapping away on his phone. I bet he’s taking care of all that needs to be taken care of because he’s good at that. And despite our argument, I’m glad he’s here because if I were alone, I’d probably be a crying heap on the floor.
***
“Aren’t your parents coming back?” Cole asks from inside my room while I’m changing into my pajamas in the bathroom.
“They’ve gone to see my grandparents so they’ll be away for the weekend,” I shout out as I start brushing my teeth. My mom’s dad was the mayor before my own father and now with the elections so close, my dad’s realized that he’s desperately in need of help. It’s kind of obvious that my mom was thrilled seeing her husband so readily begging for her help.
“What about Travis?”
“I don’t really know where he goes at night or what he does.”
“I’m not saying that I have the most normal family, especially with Jay for a brother, but don’t you think there’s something wrong with this picture?”
“Which part? The part about my absentee parents or my depressed brother?” I finally come out after having showered thoroughly, scrubbing every inch of my skin until it’s raw. I feel much better after having convinced myself that no traces of Hank remain on me and I almost feel normal again, almost normal but just not quite there.
“All of it, Tessie. What the hell happened in these three years?”
He’s watching me as I towel-dry my hair but it’s as if he knows that at the moment, anything that is remotely sexually suggestive would freak me out so he averts his gaze. I’ve intentionally gotten out my baggiest clothes for the night. The full-sleeved red shirt has a picture of Snoopy on it and the striped pajama bottoms are so long that I had to roll them three times to keep myself from tripping.
“All the bad stuff. My dad became mayor, my brother lost everything, and my b
est friend decided that I wasn’t good enough for her. In more recent news, you decided to come back.”
“Ah, your love for me just overwhelms me, Tessie.”
“Glad I could make your day.” Sarcasm drips from my voice as I settle on the little stool placed in front of my vanity table and face him.
“ Ah yes, you’re such a ray of sunshine, shortcake.” He places a hand over his heart. “What did I ever do to deserve a friend like you?”
“Friend? In your dreams maybe.” I don’t look at him and start brushing out my hair.
“At least you’re okay with me dreaming about you. I thought I was going to have to deal with a blanket-ban situation. Note to self, it’s okay to dream about Tessie.”
“Stop flirting with me, it’s nauseating!” The effect of my command is subdued by the huge yawn that I let out while I say this. All my muscles ache and my head feels like it weighs a ton, my eyes are drooping and I feel like if I get up from the little stool I’m sitting on I’ll just end up falling face-first on the floor.
“You’ve made your point, Sleepy, now come on get into bed.” Cole helps me up and guides me to bed. Because the events of the night have taken their toll on me, I don’t think twice about snuggling into bed and pulling the covers over me. It’s when I register that Cole’s still in my room looking a little uncomfortable that I lift my head from the pillow.
“You don’t happen to have a spare mattress I can crash on, do you?”
We have an entire spare room but I don’t think I want to tell him that.
“Why would you do that? You literally live five minutes away.”
“Look, I can’t leave you alone in this place, not after tonight.”
I open my mouth to correct him and tell him that I don’t need him to babysit me but he continues talking.
“I know you hate the idea, I get it but I’ve seen you looking over your shoulder every other minute since we left that damn party so I know you’re scared. It’ll give me some peace of mind if you’re not here by yourself.”
“If you really want to, you can crash in the living room,” I mutter under my breath and he exhales, as if relieved that I’m letting him stay. I close my eyes and pretend to sleep when I hear him walk away.