Playing Stacy

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Playing Stacy Page 6

by Jenn Hype


  Carrie just smiled over her coffee mug and she looked so smug I almost knocked it out of her hands. “Why would I say any of that when you obviously know all of it already? Besides, I don’t feel that way.”

  I stared at her in surprise for a minute, trying to figure out if she was screwing with me. Carrie didn’t play games, she was a straight shooter, but that response was so out of character for her I thought maybe she’d had a personality transplant.

  “You don’t feel that way? What the fuck does that mean? Of course you feel that way. That’s the same shit you say to me every time I get myself into trouble or wake up in some random’s bed and have to walk outside to figure out where I am so you can come get me. And now I tell you that I’m losing my shit over some dick head cop I don’t even know, and you decide for the first time in your life to not feed me the same bullshit crap you have practically every day since we met?”

  Carrie just shrugged and took another sip of her coffee. “I don’t know what to tell you, Stacy. You’re an adult and can make your own decisions. I’m done butting in since for one, it’s really not my place, and two, it never does any good anyway. But yeah, I don’t think all of that necessarily applies in this situation.”

  “Okay, we’ll come back to that epiphany of you not wanting to harp on my life choices later, but for now let’s skip right to the part where you said my current situation is different somehow.”

  “It’s just different this time, Stace.”

  “What the hell does that mean, Care? The one time I actually want you to tell me what to do and you decide it’s time for me to leave the nest and find my wings? That’s bullshit. You love telling people what to do. This is your chance to do it without me getting pissed and threatening to throat punch you. So come on, lay it on me.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Carrie let out an exasperated sigh and scrunched her eyebrows together, staring into her coffee mug like she was trying to see if the meaning to life was hidden in her cup.

  “You’re going to get mad.”

  “No I won’t, I just told you I wouldn’t get pissed.”

  “Okay, but…”

  “Oh my God, seriously, spit it out Carrie.”

  “You like this guy, Stacy.”

  Okay…that was not what I thought she was going to say. I held up one finger, indicating for her to hold on a moment, while I stared at the ground and took deep breaths, reminding myself that I just promised only two seconds ago that I would not throat punch her. When I finally calmed down and looked back up at her, I gave her a nod, indicating for her to continue.

  “I’ve known you forever, Stacy. I know you better than I know myself. You’ve never gotten this worked up over a guy. Ever. In my honest opinion? I think you like that he doesn’t put up with your bullshit. I think you like that he doesn’t just fall for your hot body and over the top flirting like every other guy. It sounds like he’s actually a pretty decent guy, and I think you’re just trying to find ways to convince yourself that he’s an asshole so that you can just hate him. You want to hate him because you really don’t want to like him. But I think it’s too late, because I think you already like him, and that scares you. And instead of being real with him and putting yourself out there, you’ve villainized him and turned him into the enemy. This ridiculous bet you made with this Joe guy, claiming you only want to get even - it’s just an excuse for you to get closer to him without putting your heart on the line. I don’t think you actually want to hurt him. I think you’re just afraid he’s going to hurt you.”

  I didn’t even know how to respond. I just stared at her with my mouth gaping open, struggling to find the words I needed to argue and tell her she was wrong. I wanted to throw things and cause a scene. I wanted to shout at her and tell her how off base and ridiculous that little speech was.

  But I didn’t. I just sat there trying to understand why I was so angry. Angry at Chad, angry at her, angry at myself. So instead of yelling and taking out my frustrations on her and the random strangers in the coffee shop with us, I closed my eyes and fought back the tears that had started to well up. I felt so out of control, and it was terrifying not knowing how to fix it. But mostly I was terrified that she was right.

  Chapter 8

  Chad

  I only stuck around about another hour after Stacy bailed from Joe’s party. I kept finding myself looking for her and feeling disappointed when I couldn’t find her. I knew I should be angry at her for cock blocking me, but as much as I could probably use a good lay, it wasn’t really what I wanted. I didn’t sleep around a ton, nothing like Joe who had a different girl in his bed almost every night, but I didn’t have trouble finding someone for a night if the mood struck me.

  Problem was, since the night I met Stacy, I hadn’t wanted to sleep with anyone. Every time I thought about sex, Stacy railroaded my thoughts. It was like she had taken over my brain. Even when I would jerk off in the shower I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering to thoughts of her. Her body, her taste, her smell. I tried just distracting myself from thinking about sex entirely, but it didn’t keep me from thinking about her.

  So three days after Joe’s party, I found myself at the gym taking out all my frustrations on the punching bag. Someone walked up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder, and it startled me, causing me to turn around quickly and take a swing at them.

  “Shit!” Joe yelled as he took an uppercut to the jaw.

  “Shit! I’m sorry man. You snuck up on me and it was instinct, I was in the zone. Shit. I’ll go get you some ice.”

  The front desk gave me an ice pack and I made my way back over to Joe, who had taken a seat on a bench off to the side. I expected him to be pissed and was about to offer to let him take a swing at me to even the score, but as I handed him the ice pack he started cracking up. Like, seriously losing his shit laughing. Everyone in the gym turned to stare at us.

  “What the fuck is your problem? Everyone is looking at us. What did I miss that’s so funny?”

  “You didn’t miss. You have pretty good aim, actually,” Joe said gesturing to his chin.

  “I’m sorry man, seriously. I’ll give you one free shot,” I said as I opened my arms in gesture.

  “Shut up, I’m not going to hit you. You’re the one with all the pent up anger, not me. If taking one to the jaw will snap you out of whatever shit storm that’s happening in your head right now then I’d gladly take another.” Joe rotated his jaw and popped his neck, trying to stretch out after the jolt of getting punched.

  “There’s nothing going on with me, I’m just working out.”

  “Stop with the bullshit, I know you better than that. You only beat on that bag when something’s really weighing on you. I’m here if you want to talk about it, but I’m not going to keep offering up my face. Although, it might give me more of an edge to have my face busted up. Make the girls think I’m a badass.”

  “Well if you think it will help you get laid then I’d be happy to punch you in your face any time. Just say the word.”

  “Screw you, I don’t need help getting laid. I think you’re the one who needs help. Is that what all the frustration you’re taking out on the bag is from? You need some pussy? There’s probably at least two chicks at my house right now. You can head over and take your pick. Or take both, whatever.”

  “I don’t need to get laid, and even if I did, I wouldn’t settle for your sloppy seconds.”

  “Well good luck finding a woman in a 20-mile radius who I haven’t been with.”

  “You’re disgusting. One day your dick is going to rot and fall off.”

  “Don’t say shit like that! That’s not even funny.”

  I laughed as I walked towards the locker room, shaking my head at Joe’s perpetual horniness. As I stood under the steaming hot water of the shower, I had to admit to myself that he was right. I didn’t usually feel the need to let out any aggression unless something was really bothering me. The problem was forcing mysel
f to admit what was causing my anger to begin with.

  I hated feeling angry. After seeing my father beat the shit out of my mom for so many years I began to hate the emotion. So despite all the times when my temper would flare or I would start to get pissed off, I always found a way to tamp it down. I wasn’t sure how long my dad had been beating my mom, but I first witnessed it when I was ten. He only took it out on me when I tried to intervene. I would have thrown myself in front of him every time to protect my mom, even when I was little, but she had begged me and made me promise over and over not to do it again. I hated agreeing to it, but the fear in her eyes when he hit her wasn’t nearly as bad as the fear I saw in them when she watched him hitting me.

  Keeping my anger in check wasn’t easy, and was something I battled with daily. I refused to turn into my father and I lived in constant fear that one day I would snap and lose control like he did. I didn’t know what caused him to beat her. He wasn’t a drunk so he couldn’t use that as an excuse. Maybe if I knew his reasons I wouldn’t be so afraid of becoming him, but since I refused to talk to him I would probably never know.

  I’d learned to detach myself from people and most situations that had the potential to make me angry, and while it had been a lonely life, I hadn’t hurt anyone. For the most part I could see everything and everyone from a very objective standpoint, and could prevent myself from getting emotionally invested. Until Stacy, that is.

  Never in my life had someone gotten to me like her. It wasn’t that her actions made me angry, it was my inability to control my attraction to her. She was a wild card, unpredictable, and that made her risky. Her smart mouth would be a constant source of trouble for her and I didn’t need anyone coming in to my life and muddying things up. I’d worked hard to keep myself and my life stable, and there was no way that Stacy’s involvement in any capacity wouldn’t rock the boat.

  She had been trying to push my buttons and get a rise out of me since the very moment I first saw her, which was red flag number one. Then her ostentatious flirting and bickering were red flag number two. Her following me out into the alley when I was trying to gain my composure, only to realize how little control I had when I was around her, was red flag number three. Then to round things out to red flag number four, she had acted like a jealous girlfriend at Joe’s party and scared off a potential date.

  Four red flags. Four. With any other woman if there was even one then I’d drop them like a bad habit. So what the fuck was wrong with me that I couldn’t get this crazy chick out of my head?

  After I got dressed and got my crap packed up, I walked out of the locker room and spotted Joe a few feet away, talking up a couple of girls whose workout clothes were so small they may as well have been jogging in their bathing suits. When he spotted me I saw him gesture to the girls to wait and then jog over to me.

  “Hey man, you heading out?”

  “Well I’m not going to hang out at the gym all damn day.” Joe ignored my sarcasm, as usual. Nothing I said ever fazed him.

  “Well, hey these girls were telling me about this new bar that has a live band playing that is supposed to be pretty good and they invited me to go, but they want me to bring someone else since there are two of them.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks, man.” I patted him on the back and started to walk away, but he ran up to me and stopped me again. He wasn’t going to let this go, I could already tell.

  “Come on, Chad, they’re hot. And you could use a night out. It’s a low key type of deal, it’s not some huge club or anything. At least show up and then if you aren’t interested in one of them, I’ll charm my way into getting them both to come home with me.” Joe winked at me then turned and winked back at the girls. His cockiness knew no bounds. And honestly, I had no doubt he’d be able to convince them both to go home with him.

  I really wasn’t in the mood to go out, but Joe had been putting up with my shit for weeks now, so I figured I owed him. Plus, I wouldn’t mind a distraction if it would help get Stacy off my mind. I reluctantly agreed and Joe said he’d text me directions, and told me to meet him there at eight.

  I watched him run back to the girls and they both looked over at me, openly appraising me, most likely deciding if I met their standards to be joining them for the night. They both grinned at me, and Joe turned around to give me a thumbs up. Dumb ass.

  Chapter 9

  Stacy

  My conversation with Carrie had been eating at me since I had gotten home. I kept trying to tell myself that she was way off, but the more I thought about it the more I worried she might be pretty close to nailing the issue on the head.

  After a long, hot shower and several pain killers, my legs finally stopped aching. It took a couple days for me to not need the assistance of pain meds to be able to walk, but I had to admit, the running felt good. If I did it regularly, it probably wouldn’t have been so awful.

  Adalyn walked in right as I was putting a movie in and sitting down on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn.

  “Who is this random whore in my apartment? Should I call the cops? Oh wait...is that you Addy? It’s been so long I forgot what you looked like. Do you even still live here?”

  “Shut up, Stacy. I’m sorry I’ve been gone so much for work. You should be happy that I love my job so much. I owe you for helping me get it.”

  “Yep, you do. So sit your ass down and spend the day with me veg’ing out on the couch watching movies.”

  “Deal. Just let me go change real quick.”

  Six hours, five energy drinks, several bathroom breaks and three bags of popcorn later we finished the third movie in our marathon.

  “Don’t test my gangsta. I will cut a bitch up.”

  “Do you even hear yourself right now Stacy? What are you even talking about?” Adalyn asked, shaking her head at me. I was too hyped up to say anything, so I just hopped around from foot to foot, punching the air like a boxer on crack. I was fired up and ready to test my bitch slapping skills.

  “I’ve never seen someone constantly try to instigate violence like you do. What would you do if someone ever actually challenged you? Have you ever even been in a fight?”

  “Yes, I’ve been in tons of fights. Okay, yeah, I was only like eight years old, but that doesn’t matter. Adrenaline would kick in and I’d beat a bitch. I’ve got spunk.”

  “Every time we watch this movie this happens. I am never watching Fight Club with you again. There will never be a female fight club, so give up on that dream right now. And if you don’t sit your ass down and stop bouncing all over the living room then I’m going to lose my mind. You’ve already knocked over a lamp and spilled my drink.”

  “Geez, Adalyn, freaking chill,” I said, plopping down onto a pillow on the floor, a little winded from my impromptu workout. “You’ve always been jealous of my bad assery.”

  Ignoring her eye roll, I got out my phone.

  “Who are you calling? Is it Chad?” She asked wiggling her eyebrows up and down.

  “I’m not calling anyone, bitch, I’m texting. Don’t act like you know me.” I’d spent the day getting Adalyn caught up on the past few weeks and everything that had happened with Chad. She started to lecture me, but once I told her what Carrie said to me, she shut up and nodded her head and said “Good for her. It’s exactly what I would have said.”

  “Stacy, I wish I didn’t know you so well. I also wish you would leave that poor man alone.”

  “That ‘poor man’ is an asshole and deserves everything he gets. But regardless, he’s not who I’m texting. I’m texting Joe.”

  “Oh, tell him I said hello,” she said in a perky, sing-song voice. She’d met him a couple times briefly, and like the majority of the female population, she was instantly smitten by his charm.

  “Tell him yourself, bitch. I don’t have time to pass on your messages like some secretary. An evil plot is afoot and I need to finalize some deets,” I told her giddily, my fingers tapping away on my phone.

  Adalyn groaned
and threw her head back pretending to be exasperated, but I knew she secretly loved my shenanigans. “I hate your evil plans. They always backfire and I end up having to bail your ass out of trouble.”

  “Calm your tits, Addy. This evil plan is foolproof. Joe is going to help me with Operation Take Down Officer Pissy Pants.”

  “Not only are you planning something evil, but you also gave it a name and found a co-conspirator? Wow, Stacy, I’m impressed. You are taking crazy bitch to a whole new level.”

  She didn’t mean it as a compliment, but I took it as one anyway.

  I was all worked up from watching Fight Club and since I couldn’t actually kick anyone’s ass, I had finally decided how to handle Chad. I needed to follow through with my original plan. He had seriously been an asshole to me and even if him not putting up with my shit was a bit of a turn on, he didn’t deserve me. That meant putting the plan to get even with his sorry ass back into action.

  Truthfully, Joe hadn’t seemed too on board with the whole teaching Chad a lesson thing lately. Ever since that drunken night at his house when we jokingly made a bet, any time I brought it up he acted uncomfortable and changed the subject, but I was persistent.

  Hey, you know what Chad is up to tonight?

  Yes, but I don’t think I should tell you…

  WTF? Why???

  He’s been especially difficult to put up with since you guys kissed and I think seeing you will make it worse…

  Screw you! You knew the plan when we started this. Did you think he was going to be all rainbows and sunshine? You can’t back out on me now.

  Seriously? Still sticking to the whole ‘this is just a part of my evil plan’ thing? Fine...but if he asks then you better not tell him I told you where we were going to be or else.

  “Alright, put on something cute, we’re going out,” I told Adalyn as I hopped to my feet and headed towards my room.

  “Ughhhhh…. why?”

 

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