Twisted Proposal

by M. V. Miles

  “Please,” he said holding out his hand.

  “No. I don’t want to give any false impressions.” I started to walk toward the house.

  “You’re really starting to piss me off!”

  “That’s nice.” I didn’t care if he was angry.

  We walked through the main house to the pool house in back, where the place was packed with people. Where did they all park?

  Everyone greeted Jackson as if they all knew him as we moved through the crowd to a den where only a handful of other people were gathered, including Lexus and Brett, who came in through another door.

  “What’s she doing here?” demanded a girl with long wavy dark brown hair, clearly waiting for Jackson. She was wearing a similar dress to Lexus, but in all black.

  “Chill out, Carli. She’s with me. Everyone, this is Brett and his date, Lexus,” Jackson said, pulling me closer to him.

  “Of course she is,” the girl sneered, then realized I was there.

  “And who might you be?” she directed at me.

  “This is Addison,” Jackson answered for me.

  “You mean the newest student at Briarwood?” choked an Asian girl, looking up from a coffee table, where she was snorting a line of coke.

  “I guess nothing’s a secret,” I stated.

  “No, it’s not. Hold please.” Carli handed me her drink and locked onto Jackson’s arm, leading him away. “Jackson, may I speak to you for a minute?”

  “Be right back. Maybe you can entertain yourself by talking trash about me with your little Kevin friend,” he said over his shoulder as he left with her. Everyone in the room made a booing noise, and I felt my face flush. How did he know about Kevin? Did he have my phone tapped or something?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Instead of following him to demand answers, I meandered toward the liquor cabinet and made myself a glass of whiskey. I couldn’t believe he was spying on me. I turned around, and Brett motioned for me to join him and Lexus on a couch near a fireplace.

  “Don’t worry about that. Jackson just gets jealous easy,” he said.

  “You think?” I muttered.

  “How did you manage to get the top one per cent in math? I’ve taken it three years in a row!” the Asian girl in front of me asked. Her sleek black hair was perfectly cut to accentuate her almond eyes that were a deep chocolate brown. Before I could answer, she sneezed and ran to the bathroom.

  “So, you’re with Jackson now?” asked a mixed-race guy with a ‘fro of blonde hair. He sat to my right in an oversized arm chair, stroking the shoulders of some girl plopped on his lap. His eyes were barely open. I’m sure he was stoned out of his mind.

  “I’m not with anyone,” I clarified.

  My phone vibrated, and I excused myself to get some air. I stepped out onto a balcony and slid opened my phone to read a text message from Lexus: Back off loser. He’s mine!

  When I spun around to find her, she was laughing and having a good time with Brett. I snapped my phone shut. I was so over this party and so over Lexus. “Does anyone know where the bathroom is?” I asked when I came back inside.

  “Of course,” the guy with the blond ‘fro said. He kicked the girl off his lap and rose awkwardly from his chair.

  I followed him out the door, sure he was up to something.

  “So you’re Jackson’s new toy?” the guy asked.

  “I told you. I'm not with anyone, least of all Jackson. And I’m no one’s toy.”

  We didn’t go back downstairs; instead he led me down a hall and stopped in front of a door.

  “The bathroom.” He leaned up against the opposite wall.

  “You’re waiting for me?”

  “Of course.” Something didn’t seem right, but I ignored my intuition and opened the door to find Jackson and Carli making out in a very compromising position. I cleared my throat and hit the door with my hand.

  Startled, Jackson separated from Carli.

  “Oh don’t let me stop you. Please carry on.” I slammed the door behind me as I stomped out. The blonde afro dude keeled over cackling as I retreated.

  Damn Jackson! The least he could do was wait till I was shit-faced drunk somewhere. I pulled out my phone to call Kevin, then realized that Jackson had bought me the phone. When I returned to the bathroom, Jackson and Carli were fixing their clothes.

  “Just so you know he bought me a phone, which I’m returning.” I said and hurled it at his head. Something behind them shattered, but I wasn’t sticking around to see what it was. It took me less than three minutes to make it back to the front driveway. I paused and swore. Now what? It was too far to walk all the way home

  A valet attendant smoking a cigarette nodded at me. "Need something?" he asked.

  "I lost my phone. Could I borrow yours to make a quick call?"

  Kevin picked up on the second ring. Good thing I had a knack for remembering numbers.

  “Where you at?” I asked, turning my head away so the valet couldn't eavesdrop.

  “The park. Why?”

  “Do you think you could do me a huge favor and come by and pick me up? I’m on…” I looked around for a street sign but didn’t see one. I tapped the valet’s arm. “What’s this address?”

  “Six-six-six Van Buren Drive,” the guy said.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I wish I was,” he said, laughing.

  I gave Kevin the address, and he said he'd be right there. "Thanks," I said, handing the phone back to the valet.

  He chucked his cigarette into the bushes. "No prob." Just then, his phone rang. "Sorry, duty calls." He jogged off toward one of the parked cars.

  I was walking down the long driveway to the street when the valet cruised past me. He honked, waved, and drove on. At the base of the driveway, it was dark, quiet. I could barely hear the music wafting from the back of house. The entire time I waited there for Kevin no one came to check on me, not even Jackson.

  Kevin pulled up half an hour later. “What happened?” he inquired when I got in.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay, wanna go to a party with me then? T’s nothing fancy like this, you know there won’t be any celebrates.” He started the car, but we didn’t go anywhere.

  Glaring over at him, “Dude, you don’t have to a dick, I’m really not in the mood.”

  “I’m sorry” His eyes softened. “. So what now?”

  A house party sounded like the perfect end to this shitty night. “Party, what are you waiting for?”

  Thankfully, he was in a talkative mood, and by the time we arrived, I was feeling better. As soon as we walked in, I realized I was way overdressed for this crowd. Kevin convinced the host into letting me borrow some clothes.

  I shed the dress and slipped on a pair of boy shorts that I had to tie twice to keep from falling down and a black wife beater that showed my bra, but I didn’t care. When I returned to this party, I was greeted like an old friend. I liked these people right away. They weren’t worried about the brand name on your purse or clothes, just your character.

  There were a few guys’ playing cards in the back and another guy manning a table full of alcohol. I grabbed a bottle of blueberry-flavored vodka and took a rather large gulp. It tasted like crap, but I didn’t care. Jackson could drop dead as far as I was concerned.

  “Whoa girl, what you trying to do, get fucked up?” asked a black guy with a pick in his ‘fro.

  “Definitely something like that.” I made myself a Hurricane, then found Kevin playing poker at one of the tables. “Do you mind if I join the game?” I asked, as I pulled up a chair.

  ***

  By the end of the night I had won three joints, a few pills, and fifteen bucks, and I was drunk off my ass. Kevin practically carried me to his dad’s car after I changed back into the dress. I gave him everything I won as payment for taking me to a kick-ass party. I can’t even imagine what my night would have been like if I would have stayed at Jackson. My smile was plast
ered permanently on my face as we drove home. I had had such a good time.

  The sun was coming up, as we pulled up to the hill leading down to my house. I’m sure the gatekeeper had called Stuart informing him of my return. Sighing loudly I lingered in the car.

  Kevin parked at the curb. “You gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks,” I said, and we pounded fists. I watched him leave and walked down the hill barefoot. Shit, where were my shoes? When I reached the bottom, I stopped short. Jackson was waiting by his BMW. He wore shades to hide his eyes.

  “You are the last person want to see,” I tried to brush past him, but he blocked my path. “Get out of my way, Jackson.”

  “Are you cheating on me?”

  I laughed and stepped back. “Whoa, we are so not dating. And if my memory serves me correctly, you’re the one who was caught fucking some bitch at the party you invited me to,”

  He conceded nodding, “Your right, we aren’t dating yet, but I want to.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, I think last night ruined that.” I wasn’t going to wait around for him to move. Pretty sure the back door was open, I marched around the side of the house.

  Jackson followed. “Wait, will you stop?”

  I spun around, surprising him. “What?”

  “What are you wearing?”

  “The dress your stepmother insisted I wear. What does it look like, moron?”

  “Where’s the shoes?”

  “I don’t know. At some dude’s house. I’ll have Kevin pick it up and drop them off if you’re that concerned about it.”

  “You left a pair of four-hundred dollar shoes at a stranger’s house?”

  “Oh don’t act surprised. I’m sure you do it all of the time with as much as you party.”

  “No, actually-,”

  “Whatever, I don’t care Jackson.” I said cutting him off stomping up the decks stairs and faced him, he seemed weak staring up at me. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t insisted on dragging me to that party! And don’t even get me started your spying on my phone? I didn’t even know you could do that.”

  “If you'd just let me explain, it’s a huge misunderstanding.”

  I continued across the deck, “Jackson, you took me to a party and ditched me, spouting some jealous shit about Kevin. And just so you know, we are just friends, real friends.” Pausing before I reached the door I spun around almost colliding with his chest. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. We, you and I, aren’t dating.” I pushed him away from me and tried the door, locked, great.

  “I’m sorry, so sorry about that,” he dropped to his knees. He looked ridiculous.

  “Get up. You’re making a fool out of yourself.” When he didn’t move, I nudged him with my foot.

  “Please forgive me.”

  “Jackson, get up.” He didn’t move. So I left him and started around the far side of the house, vaguely remembering a set of French doors off the formal living room. I was tired, and my stomach didn’t feel so hot.

  “Hey, I’m talking to you,” he said, as he ran to catch up with me.

  “I don’t care,” I replied in a sing-song voice. I just wanted to go to bed and nurse my hangover.

  “Addison, stop.”

  I walked up to the side door, spotting Stuart reading a paper. Smacking the glass to get his attention, he merely glanced at me leaving the room. Fucker.

  I started back around the front, but Jackson caught my free arm and slammed me into the side of the house knocking the breath out of me.

  “Please listen to me.” There was a crazed look in his yellow-green eyes.

  “What?”

  He stroked the side of my face, and I hit his hand away. He was starting to freak me out. I tried to move. He hit the wall beside my head, cracking the siding and causing me to jump.

  “Don’t. Be still and listen to me.”

  No way was I sticking around for this, quickly regretting coming home. The moment he released me, I took off running, but I didn’t get far before he tackled me and pinned me to the ground with my hands above my head.

  “Let me go, Jackson, or I’ll scream.” I could feel the alcohol churning in my stomach.

  “You scream and I’ll rip your fucking throat out,” he said calmly.

  I believed him. “Fine. I won’t scream, but please get off me. I’m gonna be sick.” After he let me up, I threw up a few times. Then he handed me a handkerchief so I could wipe my mouth.

  “Now, as I was saying, I am planning on telling you the truth. Isn’t that what you want to know about my father and yours?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, but we have to spend the day together. And you have to be nice to me. Not that fake nice either. And when the day is over, I’ll tell you everything.”

  It sounded too good to be true, but what other choice did I have? I wanted to know what was going on. “Okay. That’s fine.”

  “Fine. Let’s go out for breakfast first.”

  Food sounded awful. “I need to shower and change.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Whatever.” Numb from fatigue and a growing hangover, I walked through the front door which was now unlocked. Go figure. Stuart was standing in the foyer with a cup of coffee. Had he seen anything?

  Part of me wanted to yell at him for ignoring me, but I saw the expression on his face change when Jackson joined me.

  “I’m going to change and then hang out with Jackson. Is that okay with you father?” Please do something.

  “Of course.” He nodded and left for kitchen. Figures. We continued up to my room, passing Lexi in the hallway looking just as shitfaced as me.

  “I’ll pick out your outfit,” Jackson said as we walked into my room.

  I staggered into my bathroom and vomited again. Seconds later, Jackson appeared at my side. Without a word, he held my hair back while I gripped the toilet and retched. Why didn’t learn not to not to mix alcohol with beer?

  I kicked him out before I crawled into the shower. When I came out, there was a pile of clothes on the counter.

  He had picked out another dress, a blue one and a pair of sandals. Nowhere was I wearing that. Instead of putting the clothes on I went into Lexi’s room and found a pair of gray sweatpants and a stupid tee shirt with cats on it. I returned to the bathroom and brushed my teeth and headed to my room.

  “What are you wearing?”

  “What I want, now are we going or what?”

  He sat back down, “I’m not going anywhere with you dressed like that.”

  “Fine, you’re such a baby.” I returned to the bathroom and put the stupid dress on. This has better be worth it.

  Minutes later, we were speeding down the road.

  Breakfast turned out to be at a quiet bistro near the ocean over four hours away. It was slightly chilly, but he didn’t seem to mind.

  “Eat,” he ordered, after a plate of scrambled eggs and fruit was placed in front of me.

  “I’m not hungry. Do you not remember me getting sick a few hours ago?”

  “Which is why you need nutrients,” He pushed a large glass of water toward me. "And drink some of this. It will help."

  Sighing, “This isn’t my first hangover Jackson. I’ve been trashed before.” I picked up a strawberry and bit into it to appease him, but then managed to eat most of my food. I guess I was hungry.

  We spent the rest of the day at an art museum, where Jackson revealed that his dead mother’s photographs were on display there. He had to show me all of her pictures and tell me the story behind them. Not that I wasn’t interested--she was an amazing photographer--but it was not the way I would have chosen to nurse a hangover. Sleep, yes sleep would be nice.

  “What was your favorite photo?” he asked when we were back in his car.

  “The one of you and her on the beach. There’s sadness in her eyes that I’ve seen in your eyes. You miss her, don’t you?”

  “Every day,” he said and
turned up his music really loud.

  I never expected him to feel anything. He turned it off a few minutes later.

  “My father killed her for having an affair.” He said the words so softly that I had to lean in to hear him.

  I nodded. There was no way I heard him correctly. I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I kept my mouth shut. Now was not the time to say the wrong thing.

  We stopped for dinner at a Polynesian restaurant, and he ordered for us. I ate close to everything on my plate.

  “Are you bulimic?” he asked when the plates were removed.

  “No, why would you ask that?”

  “You should be, it doesn’t take a lot to get fat and we don’t want that to happen, do we?” He picked up a knife and began cleaning it with his napkin and the light caught his eyes making them seem to glow.

  He was a bonafide psycho, I was sure of it. It was time for me to exit. I excused myself to use the restroom and borrowed some woman’s cell phone and called home.

  “Hello?” Stuart asked, sounding very professional.

  “Dad?”

  “Addison? Where are you?”

  “I can’t believe you would do this to me. You know he’s like cuckoo crazy right? He’s taken me to like some weird art museum and,” I put my head to my head, which throbbed. “Can’t you come and get me or something? I…he’s starting to freak me out.”

  “Addison, come on, it can’t be that bad.”

  “I’m sure you saw him tackle me in the front lawn today. What’s to say he won’t kill me or something?”

  “Enough, Addison. I’ll see you when you get home.” He hung up. I stared at the phone for a few seconds before handing the phone back. I returned to my seat in a daze. He didn’t care what happened to me.

  “What’s going on, Jackson?”

  “Not now,” he replied, signing for the check.

  We were at the car, when it dawned on me I could run, I didn’t know where I was, but that never stopped me before. I paused just as I opened the door and slammed it shut. I wasn’t going anywhere until he told me the truth, which wasn’t going to happen. He’d lured me here under false pretenses. Turning around, I wondered if that woman would let me call for a cab.