by Vivian Lux
But I pushed the thought aside.
I was just starting to become crestfallen that Ingrid hadn't texted me back yet, when she appeared in the doorway, looking like a fashion show as usual.
Once again I felt lumpy in her presence. I'm a weird combination; not a true blend of my parents like Sarah and Mary, but more like an assembly. I have my father's Irish red hair, though now he was completely bald. I have my mother's deep brown eyes, my father's freckles, my mother's wide sensuous mouth and full lips, my father's broad's strong shoulders, and my mother's wide Italian hips. My face was adorned with my father's big ears and my mother's straight, Roman nose. It was like someone ripped their features out of photographs and reassembled them into me.
Ingrid's small, delicate, porcelain doll features unsettled me, as did her fashion designer's flair for the dramatic. I was dressed in a cable knit sweater so heavy it was making me sweat in the library's close heat. The prickle of sweat along my forehead made me worried that my hair was starting to frizz. The dryness of winter usually earned me some respite from my hair's wild mood swings, but today did not seem to be my day.
"Hey Delaney! You're here early."
"Couldn't stand being in my parents' house a minute longer," I admitted truthfully.
She laughed, a musical sound, exposing rows of perfectly pearly white teeth. "Living at home gettin' to you, huh?"
I rolled my eyes dramatically and she laughed harder. "Snowed in with my parents, oh God, perish the thought. I would be in jail for murder."
"My dad's a former cop, I'd be on death row."
She widened her eyes for a second then laughed all the harder. "Damn Delaney, what's gotten into you this morning? I never knew you were such a bad ass."
I cocked my head to the side. "Desperation?"
She nodded. "I read you loud and clear. What are you doing tonight?"
The prickles on my scalp had become actual droplets of sweat. I couldn't stand it any longer. "Hang on," I called, and boldly stood up and took off that damned sweater. Once in my camisole, I finally felt like I wasn't going to faint.
Ingrid looked at me wide-eyed, and I swear I saw her lick her lips slightly as her eyes raked over my chest. "Damn Lexi, where have you been hiding that body? You have got one hell of a rack."
I looked down at my deep, exposed cleavage and blushed. "Shit, sorry."
She widened her eyes. "Oh please, don't be, you remind me of my ex. Damn I miss those boobies."
My blush raged hotter. "Oh. You're a lesbian? I didn't know that."
"Nope!" She sang out, tossing her hair. "I'm bi." She grinned crookedly. "I like to fuck everybody, why bother with gender?"
I flashed to what my Catholic parents would say. They would sniff and try to be hip, but claim she was just confused. That made me angry for her, and suddenly I wanted to protect her. Even though she clearly didn't need protecting.
"Well, um, awesome!" I stammered. "Er, I'd love to go out tonight, I need a break."
She tapped her chin for a moment with a sky blue painted fingernail. "There're some friends I have from high school, they went to Temple, they're having a kegger tonight." She started nodding as the plans settled in her mind. "Yeah, that would work, it's supposed to be pretty chill, nothing wild." She arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "I'll break you in easy, Delaney."
"Temple?" I repeated. Shit. I tried to play it off cool, but the thought of going to Temple for a party made me nervous. All my life I've have heard about what a rough neighborhood Temple was in. My father's stories of students being held up at knife point, gunpoint, or even worse were a staple of our dining room table. He abjectly refused to let me go to school there, even though it was close to home, and a really decent school. The tour I had insisted we take even emphasized how the school kept students safe and separate from the surrounding neighborhoods, even that wasn't good enough to quell my father's fears. If my father knew I was going to a party at Temple, he would hit the roof.
I decided to lie.
I would bring my car, not drink too much and be home no later than ten. They wouldn't have any reason to get mad, I reassured myself. I'm nineteen. They need to realize that. Maybe the only way to help them do that is if I start acting like it.
My long hesitation didn't go unnoticed by Ingrid. She cocked her head and fixed her eyes on my still exposed chest. "Really, those are some spectacular tits, Lexi. You are doing a disservice to the world by keeping them hidden."
I started to laugh, louder that I meant to, but hysterical with the tension of knowing I was about to defy my family's wishes. Ingrid smiled back and tossed the rippling blonde hair that fell in a shimmering sheet about her shoulders. "Shit, what time is it?"
I looked down at my phone. "Shit is right, we'd better go."
I looked for a moment where my sweater lay in a heap on the table and made a quick decision. Stuffing it into my bag, I slipped my bare arms into my snow jacket, I followed her out of the library and out onto the concourse towards our class. The cold seeped right through my jacket, bringing goosebumps to my bare skin, and I wondered how I had ever thought it was warming up.
The day was even more dazzling now that the sun was higher in the sky, shining white in the sparkling snow. When we stepped into lecture hall my eyes took forever to adjust to the dimness. So I just kept following Ingrid blindly.
She led me to the back of the hall, where she and her minions sat, far away from the whiteboard. I could barely make out my professor's scrawl. Shooting a self-conscious look in her direction, I reached into my purse and pulled out my glasses. Ingrid looked at me sidelong and I shrugged.
I hated my glasses. And I hated sitting in the back of classrooms and having to wear them.
It felt weird, sitting back here. Like an out of body experience. The whole semester I sat in the front row, studiously taking notes and raising my hand. It was a rut, a habit, that felt too longstanding to break so late in the game. Looking down at the lecture hall from this vantage point gives me a different perspective. Everything seemed small. My professor was a beige blur below us. From way up here I could barely make out his face much less count the hairs on his ears like I normally did.
In spite of the looming exams, the whole class seemed in high spirits. After shouting at us several times to quiet down, Prof. Schwartz just opened his arms. "Who has questions for me?"
I looked down at my notebook. I actually had several, but sitting next to Ingrid made me self-conscious about asking them. So I sat back nervously, hoping that one of my fellow nerds would take the initiative.
But when they did, I felt guilty. Especially when one of my own questions was praised as being 'very astute.' Hearing my question in the mouth of the fat, sweaty guy in the second row made me jealous in a way I didn't quite understand. Something was changing inside of me. With deliberate slowness, I reached up to my face and removed the glasses that had plagued me my whole life. I leaned back, feigning comfort in the straight-backed chair, and shot a smile at Ingrid. Tonight, I was ready for some fun. Tonight I was ready to be a new kind of Lexi.
Chapter 15
Case
Crash was taking way too long in the shower, and Case was bored. The novelty of hanging out with his pussy-chasing brother was wearing off quickly. So when his phone vibrated loudly on the countertop, Case dove for it with relief.
"Yeah, Teach?"
The president's voice was so hoarse it was nearly inaudible. "Need you to make the rounds," he rasped.
Case nodded. The snowstorm had interrupted his usual route. The bartenders were going to complain about not having enough time to come up with the money, but business was business. "Got it," he replied.
Teach dissolved into a coughing fit that didn't sound like it was going to end any time soon, so Case hit the end button.
"Yo, Crash!"
There was a scrabbling sound from the bathroom, two loud bangs, and then a muffled, "Whaddya want?"
Case smirked. "Sorry to interrupt your alone t
ime, but I gotta run."
He heard a couple more bangs, then the squeak of the door hinge. Crash stood dripping in the doorway. "What about the party? Thought we were going to party tonight."
"Sorry man, club shit."
Crash shook his head, "Ah man, you work too damn hard. What the fuck is the point of being a bad ass biker if you still gotta punch the clock?"
Case laughed. "The point is to be a rich, bad ass biker."
Crash shook his head again. "Better you than me, man. At least I got the excuse of being half retarded."
"Don't talk about yourself like that, man. We all got skills. Stick with what you're good at."
"Getting girls?"
Case grinned. "Yeah, for some reason you're way better at that than I am." He extended his hand and gripped Crash's forearm. The shorter man nearly dropped his towel trying to return the handshake, and Case averted his eyes. "Thanks for showing me a good time last night man. I was in some sort of funk."
"Any time." Something in the way Crash said that made Case pause. Crash looked forlorn as he stood in the doorway of his shady ass bathroom, dripping water all over the peeling linoleum.
"Definitely," Case smiled. "You can get my ass laid any time. Lemme know what I missed."
He grabbed one last sip of the awful coffee before heading out into the blazing white world. From here, it was only a four-block walk to the first bar on his route. He hunched his shoulders against the cold, and started trudging.
It always took forever for him to get all the money. First he had to shoot the shit with the bartender. Then he would allow himself to be cajoled into a drink, Followed by a quick sweep of the bar to make sure his six foot four, leather clad presence was felt and noticed. Next came greetings with some of the old regulars who swung by to pay their respects to the biker who ran the joint. Then and only then did he finally feel it was okay to take the white envelope and stuff it into his jacket.
Then it was on to the next bar to repeat the same sequence.
He was four bars deep when the routine suddenly shifted. From the moment he walked into the Klassy Kavern, he could tell things were going to go differently.
The first thing he noticed was that change in the air; thick tension that greeted him the minute he walked in. Then it was the way Bruce, the regular bartender, wouldn't meet his eyes.
Case slid slowly onto a bar stool, and waited silently, staring at the back of Bruce's head. The minutes ticked by with Case waiting, unmoving, until the older man couldn't take it anymore. "Hey there, Case," he mumbled, his voice almost inaudible over the blare of the jukebox.
"Hey yourself, Bruce." Case knew that silence was the best way to go in these situations. Make them wait for you to start talking, and they inevitably started talking themselves.
And Bruce was no different. When he looked up into the mirror that lined the back wall and caught a glimpse of Case's bearded, black-leather clad form hulking, terrifying, at his bar, his silence lasted no longer than thirty seconds. "Listen, uh, Case." He turned, and Case could see he was struggling to keep his voice steady. "The storm kind of fucked things up for us. One of those idiot kitchen workers left the heat off in the back room, and we had a water pipe burst. So uh, had to pay to repair that and uh, shit, uh, now I'm short on your fee."
Case remained silent, watching as Bruce struggled with himself. "But, I don't want you to go thinking that your presence is unappreciated," the bartender stammered, holding up his hands. "Can I interest you in some other form of payment, maybe?"
Case grunted. "I'd prefer money."
Bruce looked up excitedly. "You say that, but what if I could promise you even more money in the future?"
"Sounds like bullshit."
"It ain't. Look, come with me a sec."
"Rather just get my money and leave."
"I promise you, it'll be worth your while."
Case sighed as he slid from his stool. It was a break in his routine. But he supposed it was worth at least seeing what the man was offering before he beat him down. He followed the man into the back room with his fists tense and ready.
Chapter 16
Lexi
Ingrid was barely even moving, picking her way so slowly down the poorly shoveled sidewalk that I kept having to pause and wait. That didn't help my increasing nervousness.
I should be studying, I told myself. I shouldn't be in this neighborhood. It was loud here, and in spite of the cold, there were still people milling about. Homeless people mixed with the hurrying college students. Steam rose from the vents in the street and I could smell the stink of the sewers permeating the area. The noise of the train on the elevated track above us startled me so badly I almost tripped. "Come on, Ingrid, why did you wear those shoes anyway?"
"The streets of Philadelphia are my runway," she announced loftily.
I rolled my eyes. She was walking more like a newborn baby foal than a fashion model. "You told me this was just going to be a little get together. Why did you need to be in runway mode?"
She tossed her head. "I'm always in runway mode," she announced, just as she pitched forward and caught herself on my arm with a dainty squeak.
"Those shoes...."
"Were worth every penny. Look at how amazing they are." She twisted her foot around in a circle.
"Very pretty," I muttered, but then I had to laugh. This was just so absurd. "Just hold on to me, please," I patted her arm. "My ugly boots have tread at least."
Both of us slowed down as we neared the party house. My heart hammered in my throat. "This does not look like a small get together, Ingrid."
It looked like something you'd see in the movies. People spilled out onto the snow-covered entryway of a three-story house that nestled snugly between two high rises of student housing. The front porch was packed full of people taking a smoke break and laughing loudly. "Did you take me to a frat party, Ingrid?"
I expected her to scoff at me but when I looked at her eyes I saw she was just as surprised as I was. "I don't know, my friend told me it was just a get-together."
"You mean you've never been here before?"
"Noooo...." She drew out the word in a hesitant sigh.
"So you were taking me to meet a group of people you don't even know?"
She paused for a second, worry flashing in her eyes before she shook her head and seemed to make up her mind. "Come on, Delaney," she grabbed me again. "This will be good for you."
I let myself be led, feeling increasingly silly as I saw the partygoers. Everyone seemed so much more sophisticated, so much more grown up, so much more fun than I ever could be. I felt like at any moment someone would come up to me and demand to know what I was doing here. "You are not a fun person, Alexandra Delaney. We know you're just an impostor. Get out."
I am a fun person, I told myself.
I tried to believe myself.
Ingrid led the way in through the front door, shamelessly throwing elbows to clear a path for us. This steamy heat of bodies pressing up against us felt good for a mere moment before I started to sweat.
"Where do you think I should throw our coats?" I shrieked into Ingrid's ear.
"Fuck if I know!" She bounced up and down to the music with a wild look in her eyes. "Stop worrying so much!" She scanned the room, bright eyes shining, and I tried to feel some of her excitement as I gazed across the sea of faces that I didn't know. She had nearly completed the entire circuit of the room when her whole body went stiff and her jaw dropped. "Holy shit!"
She was completely rigid, and staring as if she had seen a ghost, or some other mythological creature. I looked where she was looking.
Ahead of us the crowd had parted like the Red Sea, and all eyes were on a leather clad man, his jacket open to reveal a bare torso underneath, glistening with sweat and a patchwork of tattoos. He was holding a keg out in front of him, his face contorted with exertion. I was momentarily terrified until the crowd answered his roar with a deafening cheer as he lifted the keg high above his shorn he
ad.
"Crash is here," Ingrid breathed.
"Who is Crash?" I asked stupidly. It was pretty clear that this tornado in front of us could be no one else.
"He's an absolute legend. I've heard stories but I've never seen him myself." She licked her lips a little. "No one ever mentioned how sexy he was. Damn, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
Indeed I was. He looked like some sort of dangerous wild animal, frightening yet beautiful. His head was shaved nearly bald, exposing the ridges of his scalp that was crisscrossed with a network of fine white scars. Dark heavy eyebrows set off his intense blue eyes. He wasn't much taller than I was, but his compact power made him seem absolutely huge. He ripped his leather jacket off, and threw it to the floor, standing there with his glistening bare torso revealed for all to see. I suddenly wanted to lick my own lips. His rippling abs were unlike anything I had ever seen in real life. I lifted my hand slightly, then put it down, embarrassed at how much I wanted to reach out and run my hand along those ridges and valleys.
"Who is he?" I demanded.
Ingrid blinked several times then shook her head as if to dislodge a fantasy. "They say he is some sort of bad ass biker dude, and he is completely batshit insane. He like, lost half his brain in a bike accident, and now he can't feel pain or something."
We both watched him for several more moments, as he whooped wildly, gripping a whiskey bottle by the neck and dancing with the girls that surrounded him. I felt a twinge of jealousy out of nowhere. "Do you know where the drinks are?" I asked Ingrid.
She looked at me with a lopsided grin. "Now you're talking, Delaney." She grabbed my arm and hauled me through the crowd towards the back kitchen. "Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me!" she called sweetly, as she shoved people aside.
"Remind me never to get in your way," I muttered.
With one last push. Ingrid broke through the ring of bodies that blocked the way to the keg, and laughed in triumph. "Well I've had my workout for today!" she practically screamed, then turned to the bored looking frat type that stood watch over the keg. "Two please," she said. Sweetly.