by Xavier Neal
“I don't know about good,” Carmen mumbles. She nods her head towards a parked red two door. “Especially with that sniffing around him like a fat kid and an apple pie.”
“Carmen!”
“Ava can't help herself from humpback whoring herself around when it comes to him,” she continues as if I hadn't said anything at all. “I really don't get why either.”
Instead of admitting that I don't as well, I grab my vibrating cellphone out of my bag.
Ry: What are you doing?
My heart stings. I wanna answer. I've answered randomly ever since we had the single slice of sweetness by the water fountain. It's hard not to.
The two of us get out of Carmen's latest toy her parents bought her and use the side gate to the basement where Blaze and his friends hang. It's gross. It's rarely clean, always smells like weed, cigarettes, and feet. They hang out down here day dreaming of rap star careers while dicking around recording their personal versions of radio hits, which typically include most of the original lyrics.
From the entry way, Ava, a girl with a large frame and an even larger attitude, is sitting in Blaze's lap. Jealousy should tear through me. I know this. Yet it doesn't. “Told ya.”
I fold my arms across my chest. “Looks like you’ve got something in your lap.”
“Hey!” Ava squeaks and flips her bright red hair. “Didn’t see you there, Presley. I was just looking over some lyrics Blaze wrote. They’re really good.”
“I’m sure everything’s good from that angle,” Carmen says flopping down on the broken couch next to the one Blaze is on. “Except for her.”
Ava sneers, but stands up as she says, “Well boys I’m going to go. Come on, Lindsey.”
Her second in command untangles herself from Nathan, Blaze's best friend, and heads towards the door. She gives Carmen a dirty look who immediately flashes her the middle finger. Another war I'm in the middle of. Apparently, Blaze and his talentless friends had groupies who don't appreciate us storming in on their territory. So on one front I'm the victim and on another the aggressor. I hate getting out of bed more and more every day.
“Deuces,” Nathan says in his pathetic excuse for a thuggish tone. He reminds me of Eminem with no talent, less hotness, and the struggle of a suburban kid whose mom works two jobs to make sure he can flash the latest hot shoes. He's a joke. They're all a joke. Hell, who am I to judge at this point? So am I.
Refusing to sit on the couch that is home to way too many sexual exploits, I pull up a fold out chair next to Blaze. “Why was she on your lap?”
“Just trying to read my bad handwriting,” his nervous fidget lets me know it’s not the first time something like that has happened. Again not surprised. “Jealous?”
I don't answer.
“Hey,” Nathan snaps. “Less talking. More writing. We’ve got to win that talent thing.”
“But we just got here,” Carmen snips, looking up from her cell phone. “Can’t he have a sec to hang with his girlfriend?”
“No. Play time is over. Get back to work,” Nathan demands as he picks up a slice of cold pizza and his ringing cell phone.
“So it's only play time with the Pillsbury Dough Girl?” Carmen smirks. “Interesting.”
My phone vibrates again.
Ry: Busy?
“I could squeeze in a little play time for you,” Blaze whispers as he looks up at me, his brown eyes shimmering with something that makes my stomach groan in disgust. “I've got rubbers. Nay Cray's 'rents aren't home...”
“Ugh,” I growl my annoyance. “Glad that that’s most important to you.”
It is. It has been from the minute he kissed me. Apparently some girls just spread their legs open after a kiss for him to have sex with them. Even knowing I was a virgin didn't slow him down from trying to get in bed with me. Most he's gotten is a little over the pants action and some terrible kisses with too much tongue. It would be easier to go further if my disgust for him didn't lead me to disgust for myself.
I check my vibrating phone again.
Ry: You can’t be that busy because I know you’ve checked all my messages.
Before I can put the phone away it vibrates again.
Ry: And you know I'm waiting by the phone for all of yours.
A deep sigh comes from me. God, how does he get into my head like that?
“Who keeps texting you?” Blaze asks with unhappiness.
“Her better boyfriend,” Carmen jokes.
She doesn't know anything is going on between Ryder and me. She'd have my head on a stick and parade around the courtyard. Not because she doesn't think we're a good fit together, but it's all about the people watching. With the way we've waged war, to find out the enemies were discussing anything other than ways to obliterate each other, would be cause for an overthrow of a metaphorical crown I never asked for.
Suddenly Nathan hangs up and jumps to his feet. “That girl Mo’ who’s been on my jock is down at the court and wants us to meet her there. She’s got some hot little friends. Tiny titties but big ol' booties. You guys down?”
James and Eli, or J Club and E.I. as we're supposed to call them, mumble their approvals.
Nathan tosses his head. “Blaze?”
Blaze glances at me to see the stern look on my face and swallows an emotion. “Sure. But not for the girls. I wanna play ball.”
“Yeah. Yeah,” Nathan brushes him off with a wink.
He opens his mouth to ask something when I shake my head. “Don't.”
“Hear me out.” To humor him I do. “Dinner?”
Knowing this routine, I ask, “Who's gonna pay? Me? Again? I'm tired of using all my tutoring money to afford our dates.”
“No I’ll pay. I’ll scrounge up some cash and-”
“You can’t,” Nathan buts in as he slides on his fake diamond watch he wears to impress chicks. “We’re going to record some tonight.”
Frustrated he stands and slides his hands in his pocket. “Tomorrow then?”
My phone vibrates and I check it.
Ry: Is your face doing that thing where you scrunch your nose to stop from smiling. I love it when you do that.
“Who is that?” Blaze snaps and reaches for my phone.
“Don't. Ever. Touch. My. Phone.” I harshly state and slide it in my back pocket. “And don't ask me that again. You have to earn the right for those answers.”
“But you're my girlfriend.”
“Maybe you should learn to act like it then.” I stand up. “What do you say, Carmen? Benny's Burgers?”
She hops up, “God yes. I can smoke on the patio and the bartender lets me drink for free.”
“Did Blaze treat you that way often?” Katherine asks, an intrigued look on her face.
“About 90 percent of the time. The other fraction, he was a completely different person. But like me, back then, it was all about what you were selling. The image you had created and the things you did to maintain it.”
“Life as an adult, isn't much different in that aspect. Quite often we create personas at work or in our social lives and then feed into them.” Her words whittle away the hope I had that I had grown out of doing those things. “It's human nature. However, where was the lie? Texting an ex-boyfriend isn't cheating.”
“No...it's not. But what I did that night was.”
My phone continues to vibrate across my bed lighting up with another text from Ryder. Caught up in the elation that comes from every word he types, I quickly check it.
Ry: I wanna see you.
I stare at the words I'm not sure I can resist.
Ry: I NEED to see you Pres.
Ry: Please.
My fingers twitch to touch the keys, but I fight against it.
Ry: I'm throwing myself at the mercy of the court your honor.
A giggle escapes me.
Ry: Please.
Reluctantly I reply.
Me: Where? You know I don't have a car. You try to pick me up and my brother might try to bash your face in.
The reference causes me to coo at the memory.
Ry: 10 minutes.
Me: Okay.
A mad rush of mixed emotions has me out of my bed and in my full length mirror. Jeans and a sweater. Nothing special. Should it be special? Is this special? The confusion causes me to grunt as I quickly brush my hair into a high pony tail.
On my way for the front door, my father who's on the couch beside my mother watching some cop show, stops me. “Where are you going now?”
Knowing the fury and disgust they would express if I even mentioned Ryder's name in the house, a lie flops out of my lips effortlessly. “Tutoring session. Last minute. She only lives a block over.”
My father nods and my mother who is wrapped up in a book can't even bother to lift her head. Why would there be a need? I don't lie to my parents any more than I lie to my friends. There had never been a need before this very moment. They've always been so understanding and Carmen while pushy has too. Something inside of me knows they'll eventually forgive this little lie, as long as it's the only one. Carmen will deal with it like she always does. A tornado of cuss words and a pack of smokes.
Once I'm on the street I turn the corner and head down the road towards the park at the end of it. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Going to meet him like I’m some love sick puppy dog…which I know I am no matter how much I wish I wasn't. It's hard when you know your soul mate needs you. When you know there's a chance they're hurting as much as you are and you're the only one who can fix it. How does anyone say no to that? I arrive in the empty park with guilt on my conscience. I shouldn't be here. I should be...studying for my math test or watching re-runs of FRIENDS, anything but standing here in this parking lot waiting for him.
Just as my feet decide to follow my brain instead of my heart, Ryder pulls up, parks, and gets out. My eyes don't waste a minute slaving themselves to their favorite addiction. His jeans are my favorite light wash pair that hug his hips in the way if he lifts his arms you can see his boxers, which he does to give me a peak of his v cut. My mouth presses together as he pulls down his Mr. Happy shirt, the shirt I bought him last year for his birthday. Is this some sort of white flag or a red one?
Not knowing whether I'm being attacked or seduced causes me to fold my arms across my chest as I approach him. “Nice shirt.”
Ryder smirks widely, leaning against his car door. “Thanks. This really hot chick I know gave it to me for my birthday last year.”
“Really hot huh?”
“Super.” Ryder's body seems to be summoning mine telepathically. Instead of keeping my distance like I know I should, I'm within touching distance. Yet we're not. New Age warfare at its finest. “I love the fuck out of this shirt.”
“Love it? Those are big words. You sure about that?”
“Fucking positive,” the words make my heart melt for a moment. I swallow the knot of grief rapidly growing. “I'm sorry, Pres.”
The words sound so sincere, but I know better. I know so much better than to just fall to my knees over them.
“I really am. I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t wake up one day and say I want to hurt the love of my life-”
“Love of your life?” my voice quivers, tears growing in my eyes. “I was-”
“Are actually, the love of my life. Yes. There’s just so much you didn’t know and I don’t know and I didn’t handle any of this right. I really and honestly didn’t mean to hurt you the way I did. And I don’t expect you to forgive me like it was nothing, but Presley I’d rather have you in my life as my friend than to have none of you at all.”
His words disgust me. “Friend? Everything we went through and you wanna be friends?” Trap. This is exactly what it is. Just another chance for him to look like the better person while the world watches.
“I-”
Regaining my coolness, I plant myself against the car door beside him. “I don't think that's a good idea, Ryder. Bambi would piddle herself and Blaze would never stop whining. Not to mention the rest of the school would riot.”
“They're already rioting.”
“It would be worse.”
He turns his body so it's facing me. “You really care what people think?”
In a whisper I declare, “I do now. Don't act like you don't.”
“I...I don't.”
“So dating the school slut is because you really enjoy her witty company?” When he looks away, I add, “Don't lie to me. I don't know what caused you to start giving a damn about other people and their opinions, but something did. And now you do. And sadly, now so do I. So no Ryder, we can't just be friends because you want to.”
“I don't wanna be friends,” he changes the nature of the conversation. “I want my girlfriend. I want the girl I went and got a tattoo for.”
Blindsided, I stumble out the word, “W-wh-what?”
Ryder turns around, and leans forward to allow me to lift his shirt up revealing a compass rose in the middle of his back. Instead of N S E W, the initials are P M R C.
Feeling sick to my stomach, I wrap an arm around my stomach and cover my mouth trying my best not to let my tears come. The thundering in the background acts as my warning that now's a good time to walk away. There's a small drizzle that lands on my shoulder that could easily be considered an extra push. My muffled voice whimpers, “You still got it.”
“Yeah.” Ryder puts his shirt back down as he turns back to face me. His body moves closer. His hips are nestled against mine. I need space. I can't breathe. I don't know that I wanna breathe. “I told you, I’ll always find my way back to you. We may be a little lost now, but we'll find our way back together. Whether we’re twenty or forty, I know we’ll end up together. We're soul mates, Pres. Nothing can change that.”
“Why?” I helplessly whimper. “Why are you doing this to me? You have a girlfriend! You have someone who you love-”
“Don't ever fucking say that.” He corrects me harshly. “I'll never love her. I've never thought about loving her. She's an easy lay.”
“And that's what it's about at the end of the day right, Ryder? Getting laid? Getting that itch scratched?” Sniffling, I shake my head. “Well screw you and Blaze both for that. I am more than what the hell is in my jeans.”
“Don't compare me to him. Ever.”
“Why not? You’re both selfish! Self centered! Everything is about you and I am just some sort of sick trophy in your worlds! Neither of you care about me and what you do to me. I'm nothing more than-” is the last of the rant that escapes out of my mouth before the rain lands on my head and his lips land on mine.
Instantly swept away in the high of his words, the frenzy of his tongue, and intensity of his touch, I surrender on a loud moan. Ryder aggressively slides his hands down my hips and then threw my belt loops to yank me closer to him with so much force what he fears is obvious. My tongue fights against his, desperate to prove I have more passion pumping through my blood than him. As the rain pours down on us it’s like we're being cleansed of our sins. Washing away the hate we’ve built up, the tension we’ve created, the bloody battlefield we’ve turned our lives into. It’s like the rain is our clean slate we’ve been dying for.
Katherine whimpers, “Holy shit...”
The kiss I swear is still lingering on my lip causes me to casually wipe away the feeling with my thumb. Remembering how much that kiss be smirched so many of the things I stood for to satisfy the one craving I couldn't figure out another way to mollify, helps fan down the flames that have licked themselves up my thighs heading for the apex between.
Katherine manages to put herself back together and leans back in her chair. “So you kissed another guy?”
“That was just the start,” I confess. “A very beautiful start to a Shakespearean style tragedy....”
Ryder
-“You wanted to protect me.”-
“Damn it!” Bambi screams at me. “It’s like you don’t care!”
“That’s because I don’t!” I yell back at her in her driveway. “I don’t care if you think I’m cheating on you because I know I’m not!”
I am. I very much so am and love every minute of it. Presley in small doses is better than any hit of any drug I've ever had.
“Then why did Keith say he saw you all up on Presley?”
“How the fuck should I know?” I open my car door. “You know, Bambi if you thought for one second more about us and less about her and how I may or may not be cheating on you with her, you’d realize you are what is killing this relationship, not her.”