Done Burger

by Camille Oster

  "It's sweet that your mom cares so much," I said.

  "Your mom lets you roam the streets, does she?" Riley said.

  "Don't start."

  "Or you'll what, nut me again?"

  I cast a wary look at Julian, who just closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  "You nutted him?" Mia said accusingly.

  "She just wanted to feel me up. Was a bit rough about it, that's all," Riley said, grinning.

  Mia's mouth looked like a sphincter, her eyes were blazing. Okay, I had just stumbled onto something. I sought out Ella, who rolled her eyes. With her eyes, she indicated Riley and Mia and out of sight poked her finger through the hole made by the thumb and forefinger of her other hand.

  They're fucking?! My eyes widened in disbelief. How had I not known this? What was he doing messing with me if he was fucking Mia? All those sexual references and suggestions. Alright, it had never been a blatant suggestion, just blatant innuendo. Yuck.

  "Historic," Ella said, twisting her head. "Love wine," she said brightly when everyone's attention went to her, to cover up the silent conversation between us. "Even crap wine like this." She took a swig of the bottle.

  I couldn't believe it, Riley and Mia, although according to Ella, it was something in the past. I'd had no idea. Also, judging from Mia's reaction, she wasn't so over it. She'd looked ready to kill me at the indication I'd gone anywhere near Riley's tackle, even with malicious intentions. This just got a whole lot weirder. No, strike that. There was nothing to be weird about. Riley was a douche and that was it. If Mia had the lack of judgement to get with that, that was her problem. If she got upset about it being over, that was her even bigger problem.

  I grabbed the bottle and brought it to my lips. Admittedly, it did taste better the more you had.

  * * *

  Chapter 11:

  * * *

  Ella kept getting texts on her phone and she would check them every time a little ping came through, her pretty features looking harsh when she read them.

  "Is that him, your boyfriend?"

  "He's pissed I'm staying."

  "And that isn't lame at all," I said sarcastically. I didn't know why she liked him. Actually, I did know. He had the right look, the right car and hung out with the right people. Ella was flattered, I supposed, at being the person he chose to be seen with.

  She took a swig of the bottle and texted back. It pinged again and the scene repeated. I turned my attention away. The boys were playing a hockey game with mops and I watched them for a while, wondering how it was possible to find fun in such stupid things. When had I stopped doing stuff like that? My thoughts crawled to Cherry and I wondered how she was doing in Reno. She didn't really know anyone there, so that would suck, but then things weren't all that great back here either. I missed her though, having that person I could talk to about anything. And then, again, I wondered what the hell I was going to do.

  "Did you go to college here?" I asked Julian.

  "I did."

  "What did you study?"

  "Art history."

  My mouth dropped open. That was the last thing I had expected him to say. "Really?"

  "Yes, really. Then why did I end up here, you ask?" he said with a smile.

  I didn't want to say, but yes, how the hell had he ended up here?

  "Turns out there isn't a great demand for art historians. In fact, it's the most useless subject you could study."

  "Then why did you do it?"

  "I thought it would make me sound cultured. Thought it would impress the girls, one in particular."

  "And did it?"

  "Oh yes," he said with a smile.

  "I suppose knowing art is being cultured," I said. Isn't that what cultured meant, liking old painting, opera and ballet. "I did ballet," I admitted. I was eight at the time and it had been the center of my life, the little tutu, all in pink—girls' stuff.

  Julian was looking at me, and I blushed wondering if my inference at doing ballet when I was a kid was on par with his life choices. "A deeply useful skill that I hope will serve you well," he said. There was an edge of sarcasm to his voice, but it wasn't derisive.

  "I have to be pretty drunk these days to bring on the pliés."

  "I will keep that in mind," he said, crossing his ankle over his knee.

  "My mother thinks I should study law."

  "Law," Julian said slowly. "Buried day to day in people trying to screw each other over. Good money if you can hack it."

  A familiar dread washed over me. Law; it sounded so boring, not to mention that they thrived on people's suffering. But everyone knew they got paid well. Cherry's uncle was a lawyer and he had the best house I'd ever seen in person. Still, it didn't stir an ounce of passion in me. I didn't have the ambition for finance, or the brains for dot com stuff. There was always nursing, like my mom, but I also saw the hours she worked and the stress she was under all the time. "Truthfully, I haven't got a clue what to study," I admitted. "I have to pick a major and I've got no idea."

  "It doesn't matter what you pick when you're a freshman."

  Yes, everyone said that, but it didn't help with the bigger issue, did it? "I know, but I'm supposed to have some idea of what I want to be."

  "Then just settle for being a better person."

  "You should write for Hallmark."

  He chuckled. "Can you imagine having to sit and churn out that guff every day?"

  "It would be great," I said. "There would be bunnies jumping down the hall, Disney princesses floating by and your life would have a soundtrack, like The Sound of Music or something. I would have an ivy covered swing in my office and the sun would shine every day."

  "How many of those cards do you think are thought up by someone who secretly dreams of murdering their mother in law?" Julian grinned. It crinkled the corner of his eyes.

  "Okay, that's just icky. Nice cards are from that good part of the world where they make all the good stuff, like chocolate, gift wrapping and confetti. I'm sure there is a town where they make all this stuff, where everyone is nice to each other and go all out for holidays."

  Julian was now looking at me like I'd lost it. "You mean where everything looks quaint and village-like?"

  "Exactly. Where everyone says good morning and good afternoon when they pass each other, have little dogs with them as they trudge through the snow."

  "Good luck finding a ticket there down at the bus station."

  "I just want to work somewhere nice," I said. "Ideally somewhere where there aren't bodies."

  "I have to go," Ella said. "Drama maximus is unfolding. I'll see you guys tomorrow." She stood up and disappeared into the back, her mouth looking tight and drawn. She was clearly unhappy, but got running when Brandon wanted it.

  I wanted to say something about her situation, but Julian certainly wasn't the right person to talk to. Saying that, he didn't seem to react at all with regards to Ella's squabbles with her new boyfriend. Maybe it was just a sex thing between them. Julian was certainly not acting all jealous about it.

  Riley sat down in Ella's chair and I immediately felt the tension of his presence. What joyous vileness was he going to spurt out now? "Trouble in paradise?" he asked.

  "Seriously, are you always a complete jerk?" I asked and Riley looked at me.

  "You're hurting my feelings," he said, looking hurt. "If I had any, I would definitely be hurt by now. Luckily, I struggle in that department. I'm sure there's some spectrum for it."

  "Psychotic," Julian said.

  "Or just emotionally stunted." Riley took the bottle from the table and took a swig before putting it back. It actually looked full and only just now did I realize there was more than one. "How many of those bottles did you get?" Crap, I had better stop drinking if I was going to drive home.

  "I can't remember," he said, but I didn't believe him. Just like him to slip more alcohol in.

  "Where's Mia?" I asked, not seeing her around. In a sense, I just wanted to point out th
at I knew.

  "I don't know," Riley said, looking around. "Might be in the bathroom, or she's gone."

  Obviously not clear enough. "I understand you're an item."

  "Me and Mia?" he said with surprise. "We might have hooked up a while back, but then Mia does like to make one feel welcome."

  What was that supposed to mean, I wondered, when I saw Julian looked away. That was right, Julian had apparently slept with all women here and that must include Mia. Was that before or after Riley? And things got a little more complicated.

  "Some would call this place downright incestuous," he said with a smile. Did Riley have issues with Julian? I thought I was picking up on something. Anywhere you dug, you found complications and resentments. And it seemed quiet; direct-speaking Julian was the ladies’ man in the group. That must really bug Riley, who sold himself as the perpetual party animal.

  Julian didn't say anything. As opposed to Riley, Julian didn't kiss and tell, even if everyone seemed to know.

  "I suppose a guy needs to entertain himself somehow in a place like this," Riley continued.

  "Especially when waiting for the medical examiners," Julian said dryly.

  "Life is short. And Wyatt is out," Riley said. I turned and saw Wyatt in the corner, his eyes closed and his head dropping.

  "Wyatt," Julian said loudly, "Go home."

  Wyatt looked lost for a moment, then stood. "Yeah, I better," he said, rubbing his eyes then stretching. "Falling asleep." We heard him go out through the back door, leaving just the three of us.

  "If this was one of those marathon things, it would be getting interesting now," Riley said.

  "You really like that strife between people, don't you?" I said. "You certainly like creating drama."

  "Ouch, princess. Not so hard."

  A loud knock came from the front glass.

  "They’re here," Julian said and stood up. He walked to the front holding his key ring. There were two men outside, next to a white van.

  "So this is how it all ends up," Riley said as we stood, still behind the counter. "Bit of an anticlimax, isn't it? Just carried away by two non-descript men in an innocuous white van."

  I felt cold and crossed my arms in front of me. Julian turned on all the lights in the restaurant and the two men pulling a yellow stretcher with them as they headed into the women’s bathroom. It was still really eerie in here and I almost felt a bit light-headed.

  "Don't you pass out of me, princess," Riley said.

  "I'm not going to pass out."

  "Yeah? ‘Cause you're looking a bit green."

  "Maybe because they're just about to drag a body out of the toilets."

  He put his arm around me and I was about to argue, but couldn't be bothered. It was actually nice to feel someone there—even if it was Riley. I turned into him when they appeared again. It was just so awful.

  The stretcher made this awful sound on the tiles as they took her out the front and quickly loaded her in the back of the van. Julian spoke with them outside for a moment before returning inside and locking the door again.

  When he approached, I shrugged Riley’s arm off me.

  "You two should go," Julian said. "I'll do a bit of cleaning before I go."

  "Okay," I said with relief. I wasn't sure I could go in there right now, and I was impressed that Julian would. Without dwelling on it more, I turned into the back to get my bag from the locker. It was four in the morning.

  "Give me a ride home," Riley said.

  "What?" I just wanted to go home. The last thing I wanted was to be Riley’s friggin chauffeur at the moment.

  "My car shat itself. Come on, it's fucking four in the morning. I'll get murdered out there."

  "Fine," I said with a defeated sigh. "Come on, then."

  * * *

  Chapter 12:

  * * *

  Something crunched under Riley's feet as he stepped into the passenger side and for a moment, I felt embarrassed how messy my car was, until I remembered it was Riley and I didn't give a damn what he thought.

  "Neat freak," he said accusingly.

  "You're welcome to walk."

  He closed the door and stared at her expectantly until I turned the ignition. The lights came on and I drove out of the parking lot. There were barely cars on the road. "Which way?"

  He pointed down the road and I followed his direction. It had been a long time since I'd been out this time of night. The silence continued and I was grateful. It felt uncomfortable having him there, because I never quite knew when he would turn on me, fling his accusations like I wasn't good enough for some reason.

  "Why are you always such a total dick?" I asked.

  "Habit, mostly."

  He kept pointing and I drove down a part of town I wasn't all that familiar with. Things turned decidedly residential before long and we stopped in front of a white, wooden house, two stories with a porch in front.

  I could feel his eyes on me in the dark and again I felt uncomfortable. I wasn't quite sure what he saw when he looked at me, but it was something he attacked more often than not.

  "Wanna come in?"

  My eyebrows rose with surprise. "No."

  He leaned closer. "Come on, you so want to see where I live."

  "I really don't."

  "It's not like you're going to sleep anytime soon," he warned. I paused, realizing he was right. It would be impossible for me to sleep. The night had been creepy and sad, and I felt both wired and freaked out. Or maybe he wanted me to come in because he wasn't anywhere near able to sleep either. But then really, did I want to hang out with Riley, with him flinging barbs at me the rest of the night. "I dare you," he said, stepping out of the car and walking up the driveway, turning half way up to wait for me.

  I sighed and put my forehead down on the top of the wheel. On the one hand, I didn't really want to hang out with Riley, on the other, I didn't really want to sit at home alone in the dark jumping at every noise in and outside the house. "Fine," I said to the silent inside of the car and opened the door. I'd stay for a minute, until I'd managed to relax a little, maybe to the point I could actually go to bed.

  With dragging steps I walked up the driveway behind him and he waited for me. This was definitely not something I'd expected to happen, going back to Riley's house. Sometimes the world just threw weird, random shit at you and this was definitely one of those times.

  Pulling a key ring out of his jeans, he unlocked the door. The lights were already on inside. The place was kind of sparse, but still lived in, like they had been there for a while, but hadn't quite made themselves completely at home. There were no pictures on the white walls, but plenty of magazines on the table next to the couch.

  Riley turned on more lights and then the TV. "Do you want anything?"

  "No," I said, crossing my arms in front of me. This was a super bad idea.

  "Take a seat," he said and left the room. The TV flared to life, some kind of reality show. There was dark pink nail polish on the table. Someone female lived here. I turned my head back and saw two types of shoes, an older woman's and Riley's sneakers and boots. Definitely guy shoes belonging to a younger guy, so no dad, it seemed.

  Riley returned with a bag of Doritos and threw himself down on the other couch.

  "Isn't your mom going to hear the TV?"

  "She takes sleeping pills so she doesn't hear anything."

  He flicked the TV channels, settling on some show I didn't know.

  "How long have you lived here?" I asked.

  "A couple of years. We were in another house before."

  Taking the opened bag of Doritos from Riley, I brought my legs up, starting to feel a little more relaxed. Relaxed might not be the right word, just a little less freaked. My thoughts turned to Matilda, who probably wasn't losing a minute of sleep. Perhaps she'd never thought of it again, just left and forgot about the girl in the bathroom. For a moment, I had to consider if Julian was actually right about her. There was definitely something not right. Th
e thought made me shudder a bit. I don't know how Julian managed to sleep at night knowing there was a true-life psychopath after his job.

  I was impressed by Julian though—how he'd handled this whole thing, so calm and collected, doing what had to be done.

  "How long have you worked at Coast?" I asked Riley.

  "Since junior year. On the weekends at first, but later taking the evening shift. I don't mind working evenings."

  "What do you do during the day?" I asked. Maybe he did something throughout the day like Wyatt did.

  "Hang out here, mostly. Do you want some pot?"

  I glared at him. "We just watched them carry off some girl who overdosed."

  "What does that have to do with pot?" Riley asked and pulled out a bong from down beside the couch. He pulled out a lighter and lit the burner. It bubbled and he inhaled, the pungent smoke filling the room. "Want some?"

  I shook my head. Feeling like I was, I didn't need anything interfering with my head. I hadn’t really smoked much since I’d broken up with my ex.

  "Does your mom let you smoke here?"

  "She is typically too busy to notice," he said and stood, walking over to the French doors and swinging them open. Returning, he lay down on the couch, his head on the armrest, looking back at me.

  "So princess, what are your plans for the summer?"

  "Don't start," I warned.

  "Don't start what?"

  "Your little inquisition whatever," I said, breaking a Dorito in half with my teeth.

  He shifted his head and ran his hand across his stomach, eyes dark and glassy as he looked at me. I wasn't surprised; I'd already figured him for a pothead. "So touchy. You're all prickles and spines."

  "I bet you find a lot of people are like that, and I suspect it is something you bring out of people. Is that what you do, go around pointing out everyone's flaws?"

  "Only the ones they won't acknowledge."

  "And what flaws am I not acknowledging? Go, I'm giving you a free shot."