by Bry Foster
“I’m meeting him.” He says as he pulls away from the school and onto the main road.
“We’ll see.”
“I mean it. Today. Now.” He says as we coast along the road. My mouth drops open, my worst fears are coming to life. I feel like I’m watching my own life as a scary movie and I am the girl who trips and falls by the chainsaws.
“Uhm, no you’re not.”
“Yes I am. And if you really want to argue about it I’ll let you fight it out with Corisande.” Get up and run, scary movie girl! Don’t scoot backwards on your butt, this never works!
Slap in the face much? “Oh really. What, you let your grandmother handle your fights now?” His fingers fist the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.
“Not at all. There are plenty of things I will argue with you about until I’m blue in the face. This isn’t one of them because I know I’m right. You know I’m right. It’s why you’re losing it now.” He’s revving up the chainsaw!
“Oh, you’re so sure that you’re right about forcing me to introduce you to my father?!” I exclaim bordering hysteria.
“Do you hear yourself? Do you know how crazy you sound right now? God forbid your fiancé ask to meet the person half responsible for your life. You’re being unreasonably childish at the moment.” Cash declares as we near my house. My heart speeds up and I swipe my sweaty palms onto my uniform skirt. He is making sense. One side of my brain reasons while the other side shouts, Don’t go in the dark, abandoned house! Run for the car, scary movie girl!
“Are you calling me stupid?” I screech and he winces.
“I would never call you that and I know what you’re doing.” His jaw clenches again making it more profound. He’s angry. I switch tactics.
“You can’t just intrude on my life like this Cash. It’s not like this relationship is even real!” I exclaim loudly as we are pulling to a stop. It feels like the entire argument has been a straining rubber band and that last remark snapped it. Cash’s eyes harden.
“Is that how you really feel?” He asks in a calm voice. I’m not sure if it’s the calm before the storm or if he really is this indifferent. Either way I force myself to nod. If he wants to run off, let him. He probably didn’t want this anyway.
“Isn’t that how we both feel?” We stare at each other. Each of us breathing hard from getting so worked up in such a small area. Eventually he nods.
“Sure.” I never thought that such an impassive word could hurt so much. “See you later, Khloe.”
“Cash I-“ He shakes his head. My heart sinks passed my knees. I nod after a while and grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder as I push open the door. I climb out and Cash makes a U turn before heading back in the direction he came. For a few minutes, I just stand in the same spot asking myself so many questions. Why am I such an idiot? What did I do? Is he coming back?
I barely get any sleep that night and the next day, things only get worse.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I wake up to the notification sound on my cellphone and then I hear my father growling angrily before a string of curse words come out of his mouth. I tossed and turned all night last night awakening and then putting my phone to sleep as I tried to decide whether or not to call Cash. When I finally fell asleep, I was cuddling my phone and the sun was coming up.
It takes a second for me to realize there is a conversation happening. My room door is closed but, the walls are so thin that I can hear most of what my dad is saying. A much more calm, soothing, baritone voice follows my father’s enraged one and my eyes nearly pop up out of my head as I rush to jump out of my bed and open my bedroom door. Liz, Cash, and Corisande stand just outside our front door.
To the shabby apartment I share with my alcoholic father.
I nearly pass out on the spot. I look around and see that there are a few beer cans lying around but the place is as clean as I could get it otherwise.
Everyone turns to face me and I look down at myself. I’m wearing basketball shorts and a camisole but no bra. I cross my arms over my chest as I walk in further. Not willing to leave them alone. My bare feet meet the scratchy old carpet and I try to focus on that feeling to keep from going numb.
“What’s going on?” I ask. Liz answers before anyone else.
“I’ve been calling you for the past hour and a half. We have our trip today.” Her voice is shaky. She knows how hard this is for me.
“Yes, and I wanted to see your family.” Corisande says, I cringe. So much for softening the blow.
“You all need to get the hell out of my house!” My father yells.
“Dad-“ I start, he whips around and points his vodka bottle at me. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy, his lips are chapped and I can smell him from here. My cheeks heat as tears come to my eyes. I can’t believe this is happening to me. Even if the ground opened up and swallowed me, this chagrin I feel wouldn’t fade.
“You know better than to wake me up, and these uppity son of a-“
“Dad, it’s ok, I’ll get dressed and be out of here.”
“Are you not going to introduce us? Has your father not met Cashel?” I stop mid-turn at the sound of Corisande’s voice. My shoulders tense so hard that I probably look like a frightened cat to the bystanders.
“I don’t need to know who you are.” My father says roughly. “I just need you the hell out of my house.”
“I beg to differ.” Cash says as he steps toward my father. He puts a hand out as though he can’t see that my father is clearly unhappy with his presence. “Hello Mr. Hudson, I’m Cashel Castille, Khloe’s fiancé.” My stomach is twisted in so many knots I don’t think I can keep the contents of it down if I speak.
Baby Jesus, please, take me now!
“Fiancé? What the hell does that mean?” Anger and confusion twist my father’s face making him look even more terrifying. “You think you’re marrying my daughter?” My dad slaps Cash’s hand away and I step forward and grab my father’s shoulder, pulling him towards me a little and away from the people standing at the door of my rundown apartment.
“You haven’t mentioned it?” Liz says and I stare at her, hopefully she understands that with my eyes I am promising death. Liz returns one that says she will kill me too, for putting her in this awkward situation. Everyone’s a critic.
“I never had time.” I dupe. I glance at Corisande who has an indecipherable expression lining her face. Cash doesn’t look put out or bothered at all by my father’s actions and I wonder if that is because he’s had time to prepare himself since our conversation yesterday, and maybe his grandmother too.
“I don’t know what kind of game this is you’re playing, but I don’t like it. Matter of fact. Don’t be here when I get back.” He pauses, looking at everyone, even me, before downing the contents of his bottle and then going in search of another one. When he doesn’t find one he grabs a coat and walks out of the door leaving me with three very unsure visitors. The most awkward silence in the history of my life is occupied by Cash and Corisande looking around my apartment and then at me. Liz never takes her eyes off of me. She has been here before and knows what to expect. My best friend is probably also aware of the major breakdown I am about to have. I bite my trembling lip to keep from looking like an overcome toddler.
Pointing to my room I clear my throat. “I’m just going to go get dressed. Sorry about all this.” I say thickly.
“Khloe, I can help-“ Liz starts but I shake my head. She looks a little hurt at my refusal but she covers it well. With bleary eyes I walk to my room and start rummaging through my dresser. Soon after, I hear the door open and then close. I turn around expecting to see Liz but instead find that Cash is standing with his back to my bedroom door. It’s not until I look up at his face that I feel tears have slipped from my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. Little drops of sadness that express the turmoil I feel on the inside to the one person I hoped would never see this side of me.
A sob catches in my throat and I throw my hand
over my mouth before sitting down on my bed, tucking my chin to my chest, folding my knees up and crying. Cash comes and sits in front of me. He throws his arms around me and captures me in an embrace that feels so comforting. It’s more comfort than I’ve ever gotten from a guy. It makes me cry harder and then I feel horribly embarrassed. I calm myself enough after awhile to talk without sobbing, but I keep my head down as I say, “I guess the plan is going well…”
Cash’s arms tighten around me. “Stop it. We all have screwed up family members.” I feel him cringe. “No offense.”
“None taken.” I whisper. “He was so rude to you. And your grandmother! I don’t know if this is a victory for us or not but it certainly doesn’t feel like one. She’s probably more than willing to call all of this off now right?” I could’ve been fine with the plan ending here without the mortifying dilemma I’m suffering through now. I think I am about to have a panic attack. “I’m sorry about our fight.” I whisper before looking away from him. Cash was right, had I dealt with my father before, we could have avoided this ordeal and I would not be sitting here with proverbial egg on my face.
Cash was right about something and I admitted to that. If that’s not growth, then I don’t know what is.
“Hey.” Cash says, he grasps my chin between his thumb and the curve of his index finger, tilting my head up. We’re sitting in an odd yet comfortable position. His legs are bent, encompassing mine between his as we face each other, huddled close together. I look up and my eyes meet his. His eyes are more green than I have ever seen them before. They are like emerald gems encapsulated in his irises. My breath catches as he leans in to me and my heart thumps wildly in my chest even as he stops just an inch away from my face. I look into his eyes, then down at his lips before letting my emotions take over and I lean in to him slightly, letting our lips meet.
A ragged breath leaves me and I hear his sharp inhale. I bring a shaking hand up and grip the hair at the nape of his neck. Curling my fingers in the thick, sable strands. The hand on my chin opens and he angles my face. His other warm, gently calloused hand lands on my thigh and my heart starts thumping even more arbitrarily. His hand moves slipping passed my throat and he holds my neck, some strands of hair getting lost in his haste to secure me to him. He coaxes my lips open with his before his tongue slips across my lips and I open up to him.
We quickly become a flurry of movement, just trying to get closer to each other. I pull away first, gasping for air and Cash takes the opportunity to trail kisses across my jaw, up to the place behind my ear and then down my throat. His heated palm that now rests on my hip squeezes tightly and I exhale heavily again as all of the sensations that are racing through me. I need to get off of him. I’m a mess, I just woke up, I’m not wearing a bra and I am suddenly aware that I feel him beneath me. A knock comes to our door and Liz peaks her head in. She looks as surprised as I am dazed and whispers to us, “Guys, we kind of need to go.”
Cash nods in acknowledgment because I can’t do anything but try to get my lungs to catch up with the ragged breaths quickly coming and going. Liz closes the door and Cash and I stare at each other, both of our chests heaving. His lips are deliciously swollen and his face is flushed. If he looks this disheveled I can’t imagine how I look, I may not want to.
“I accept. I knew you’d be a wild one, Beauté.” Cash whispers to me. He stands, with me still in his lap. He leans down a little and I place my feet on the ground. He steps back, still holding my hips as my weak knees nearly give out on me.
“What do you mean?” I ask in a breathy voice I’ll regret as soon as he is out of my presence.
Instead of answering me he smiles and leans in giving me a chaste kiss on the lips. My heart kick starts like it’s vamping up for another round; however, I don’t think my body can take any more of this excitement.
When he pulls away he gives me a blinding smile that I swear causes black dots to pop up here and there in my peripheral vision. Then he states, “I like seeing you this worked up because of me.” Cash’s gaze sweeps over me and stays on my chest. I look down to see that my headlights are very much on. I cross my arms over my chest and I shake my head at his cheeky comment.
“We shouldn’t have done that.” I whisper. His smile drops.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we shouldn’t have done that. We’re blurring the lines here.” He rolls his eyes.
“Why do you keep—just admit that you like me. It won’t kill you. I swear it.”
“I do like you. Which is why we shouldn’t be doing this. What if it ruins our friendship?”
“So you admit we are friends? Because for the better part of a year you have done little to confirm that on my end.” I glare at him.
“We’re friends. Why else would I have agreed to this arrangement?”
“To wait for a moment of weakness and use me for my body?”
“Get out.” He huffs in annoyance as he stands up.
“I’ll leave, but it doesn’t change anything. No matter what that big brain in your pretty little head is telling you.” He leaves me with that thought and I get dressed scolding myself for that moment of weakness. Which is exactly what that was. Because I can’t have these authentic feelings towards someone I have despised for so long. It would be more practical to have fallen for any of the scholarly types at the academy. Which is probably why it hasn’t happened.
I am not sure if I am the only one who notices how odd it was to see a black Rolls Royce parked outside of the beat-down back drop of Casa Vega’s complex however, no one else mentions it. The ride to the private air strip is long and strange. Something in my room happened with Cash, and I am still trying to figure out what it was. Liz keeps trying to make conversation with me but all I can think about is Cash and how he handled my father without looking at me or my dad like we were the ‘bottom feeders’ she who once again shall not be named, accused us of being.
That kiss is still reverberating through my body and everything in me wants to turn back and throw myself into Cash’s arms like we are in a Lifetime movie. The day I admit that to him is the day my dad snaps out of his addiction and becomes an actual parent. I would make that trade any day.
Ultimately, we arrive and are boarded into a private plane that is sleek, elegant, and far more fancy than anything I’ve ever seen in person before. The inside is coated in cream colored leather. Some seats are like booths, facing each other. Others face a TV on either wall. My mind is so distracted that I don’t even have time to mentally prepare for the flight that we are getting on. I did not mention to Corisande or any of the three bodyguards that are traveling with us that I’ve never been on a plane before. I buckle in as instructed by the peppy flight attendant and Liz clasps my hand as they let us know that we are about to take flight.
“I need a bag.” I whisper to her, trying to keep the butterflies erupting in my stomach from coming out of my mouth. Liz flags down the flight attendant who promptly comes over.
“What can I help you with, dear?” She asks with a bright, friendly smile on her face.
“Do you have a spare trash can or a bag? I don’t think my friend is going to survive lift off without it.” Liz whispers to the woman, trying not to embarrass me in front of the other passengers but I doubt anything could make me feel more concerned about something other than not vomiting on myself in this moment.
“Sure thing honey.” She comes back with a small plastic bag and when we take off I immediately lean over and hurl into it. My stomach churns and my ears pop. The plane shakes as we shoot up at an angle and the noises accompanying it are not very comforting. I think I hate flying. Liz rubs my back until I am finished and the plane has leveled out in the sky. I unbuckle myself and stand up, ready to maneuver myself around Liz so I can go to the in-flight lavatory when a burly dark skinned body guard comes over to me and says, “Ms. Castille would like you to know that Ms. Le Roux will be meeting us in New York.” I throw a hand over my mouth and run like hel
l to the lavatory.
After possibly the worst experience I will ever endure in my life, we arrive safely in New York City. Unlike in Louisiana, the sun is not shining, it is cloudy and small drops of rain sprinkle here and there in unpredictable intervals. Winter is pretty much over for us in the south, so I am quite surprised that spring in New York consists of so much rain and snow showers.
More bodyguards and cars are on the JFK tarmac when we land. One man is standing beside the back door of a blacked out vehicle. He opens it when we come down the small steps. I’m still trying to learn to breathe around the smog in the air when a slight, elegant woman gracefully steps out of the car, the driver holding one of her hands. He reaches back in to help someone else out while the woman steps toward us. She and Corisande kiss each other’s cheeks and then Corisande introduces us.
“Lena dear, this is our Cashel’s fiancé, Khloe Hudson and her best friend, Lizbeth Turner. Ladies, this is Lena Le Roux and Clara Castille.”
Cash’s mother is a lot less like Cash and Delano and a lot more like Corisande. Even startled she glares at me with piercing brown eyes. Ms. Le Roux looks over my simple jeans and sweater and then up to my unruly hair. Her nose is slightly in the air and even though I really don’t want to, I tip my head to her in respect. She could possibly my mother in law in the near future. God help me. I don’t particularly want her to hate me. In fact, I am strangely overcome with the need for her to like me. I really wish I’d had more time to prepare to meet her. Lena brushes silky blonde hair away from her face before saying, “Fiancé? What a pleasant surprise. I always love finding out news about my family from the media instead of from the source.” By her inflection, I can tell that she doesn’t mean it and she doesn’t reach for my hand.
“I’m sorry. I thought Cashel had already spoken to you about it.” Instead of responding to that, she says, “It is nice to finally meet one of Cashel’s girlfriends. Clara and I have been dying to do so. My little Cashel always has had a sense of humor that rivals even his fathers’.” Lena continues and I ignore the dig of her demoting me to girlfriend because I mean, come on, at this point I’m not even that—and shift my gaze from her to Clara. So she is Cash’s brother Theo’s wife? Lovely.