by M. Sembera
Making a face at him, I gripped, “What? Where are Em and Jacks?”
“I had the driver take them to Roberts’ house,” he informed before scolding, “You need to grow up.”
Confused, I asked, “What is your problem?”
Narrowing his eyes at me, he snapped, “I don’t have time to baby sit your ass.”
Blurting, “Good, 'cause I don’t need you to,” I forced myself to sit up.
“So this is what you want to do with your life?” Hert questioned.
Almost tipping over as I stood, I steadied myself answering, “I’m not doing anything with my life, except maybe enjoying it.”
Suddenly furious, he yelled, “Weren’t you bad enough when you were getting your ass beat and now you’re running around like you have no law…” before I broke in assuring, “That’s because I don’t.”
Shaking his head at me Hert stood up.
“You need to listen to me,” reaching his hand out.
Quickly slapping his hand away, I shouted, “Why? So you can tell me how you think I should be? Why can’t you just like who I am?”
Shouting back, he argued, “I never said I didn’t like you.”
Making a face, I said, “Could have fooled me.”
Narrowing his eyes, he snapped, “You’re ridiculous.”
Throwing myself back onto the bed, I asked, “What are you still standing there for?”
Crossing his arms Hert made and angry noise before sitting down on the edge of the bed.
Still a little drunk and with my head swimming from arguing with Hert, I closed my eyes. So much for my birthday, eighteen was great for a few hours. Before falling asleep, I thought nothing was ever going to change for me and the few things that would change were things I wanted to stay the same.
Chapter 20
As graduation grew closer, the four of us spent less and less time together. Outside of school, I saw Hert about once a week, I still spent most of my weekends at Emerson’s and had dinner at Jackson’s twice a week, but it wasn’t the same as those first few months after the Roberts’ moved. Feeling our friendships slowly slipping away, I was more than happy when Emerson suggested we take a little trip after graduation. It would be our last chance to be together before Hert went full time at M.R. Industries and Jackson left for college. Because the reality of it was, the one thing I had waited my whole life for, was now something I dreaded. Jackson and his parents were visiting the college he was going to attend for the weekend and Emerson was locked into boyfriend/girlfriend activities leaving me with nothing to do. Deciding now was a good a time as any, to use my birthday present from Emerson and his parents to get a new dress for graduation, I drove to The Store.
I flipped through dresses on the rack, not really concentrating on what I was doing. For a while now, some stranger had been showing up everywhere I went, with the exception of Emerson’s and Jackson’s. The first time he asked me out, I was at The Store with Emerson. After that, if I went to The Bar to hang out with Jacks and help close it down for the night, he was waiting outside of it, if I stopped to get gas, he was there. I couldn’t go eat or even run to the corner store without hearing the same ‘You should go out with me’ from the persistent jerk. Frequently glancing over my shoulder, I half expected to see my little stalker. Then, a familiar voice came from behind that made me smile.
“That one’s ugly,” Hert said.
Quickly turning towards him, I laughed, “Well at least I don’t have to worry about us showing up to graduation wearing the same thing then.”
Raising his eyebrows, Hert replied, “Oh, ha-ha.”
Smiling wide at him, I asked, “What are you doing over here?”
“I’m off and I needed to get a few things,” he answered.
“In the girls department?” I teased.
Making a face, he fussed, “Shut up, I was over there and saw you,” as he pointed to the men’s side of the store.
Laughing, I said, “I know, did you find what you were looking for?”
Shrugging, he replied, “Not really.”
I admitted, “Me neither,” before asking, “You wanna go get something to eat? I’ve got three hundred dollars burning a hole in my pocket.”
After giving me a strange look, Hert said, “Sure, I’ll drive.”
As we turned to leave, I suggested, “Why don’t we walk? There’s a place to eat just down from here.”
With a light smile he agreed.
While we ate, I tried asking questions about Hert’s job. Other than him saying that he liked it, he really didn’t say anything else. It was nice, just being the two of us. When we left the little restaurant we headed back towards The Store. Then, walking down the street, I saw the stranger heading our way.
“Uhhh!” I complained, turning to walk the other way.
Hert asked, “What are you doing?”
Sighing, I explained, “That guy over there keeps asking me out. He shows up everywhere I go saying, ‘you should go out with me’.”
Scowling as he looked around, Hert questioned, “What guy?”
“Over there,” I replied, motioning in my stalker’s direction.
Hert looked furious, ordering, “You are not going out with him.”
I was instantly offended that he was forbidding me to do something and had to argue.
Before I spoke, I took a moment to stare at him as if he had lost his mind, “Did you just try and tell me what to do?”
“I wasn’t trying, I’m telling you!” he confirmed.
Nodding with a slight laugh, I informed, “Ok, let’s just see how well that works out for ya.”
Hert blurted, “Damn it Renni!” as I walked away.
Heading straight towards the stranger, I thought, Hert had some nerve ordering me around. Walking right up to him, I smiled. He didn’t smile back. Slightly confused at how someone so persistent could come off uninterested in the midst of getting what they had spent so much time perusing, I decided to make the offer.
“Do you still wanna take me out?” I asked.
Narrowing his eyes, he glanced at Hert before saying, “Yea.”
Nodding, I said, “Then, let’s go.”
Before we walked away, I took the opportunity to glance back at Hert and give him a little wave and a sarcastic smile.
Making our way past The Store I realized, I had no idea where I was going or even the name of this guy. In an effort to make a point with Hert, I neglected to put much thought into what I was actually doing.
Looking over at him, I said, “I’m Ren,” giving a light smile.
“I know,” he stated with a little ‘duh’ expression.
Feeling a bit irritated already, I questioned, “And you are?”
His tone softened as he replied, “Henley.”
“Okay Henley, where are we going?” I asked, trying to make light of how uncomfortable I felt.
Almost glaring at me, he questioned, “Ever been to The Diner?”
I shook my head. He nodded as we continued to walk and I assumed we were heading to The Diner.
Henley stepped into The Diner first, leaving me to open the door for myself then proceeded to sit down in a booth and wait for me to join him. Deciding this would not end in anything other than aggravation, I stopped at the side of the booth.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I snapped, “Yea, I’m going.”
For whatever reason, he appeared surprised I wasn’t excited about this date as he asked, “Why?”
Giving him a stupid look, I shared, “Um, because I don’t even know you and already I don’t like you.”
Then with a put out tone, Henley said, “Figures.”
Now I was mad.
Taking the seat across from him in the booth as not to make a scene, I lowered my voice and fussed, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Guess I’m not good enough for you,” he spouted right back.
Sitting straight up, I blurted, “What?” before lowering my voice again,
saying, “If this is how you’re going to treat me, then you’re right.”
For a moment, he sat there just staring at me. Glaring back at him, as I waited for the next idiotic thing to come out of his mouth, I noticed he was rather plain looking. Shaggy brown hair almost covered his brown eyes and in the back rested right above his shoulders. He was average height and thin but not unusually thin, just regular. It was possible I had seen him a thousand times and never remembered him until he actually spoke to me because there was nothing outstanding about him.
Shaking my head, I went against my better judgment and decided to give him another chance. Maybe he never expected me to say yes, let alone be the one to ask and he was nervous. After all, my close friends could have been intimidating for him.
Taking a slow breath, I said, “I don’t remember seeing you at school.”
“I don’t go to school,” he informed before asking, “How old are you?”
I was confused as I answered, “Eighteen, I’m a senior. How old are you?”
With a relieved expression, he replied, “Twenty, I didn’t go to school here.”
“So… do you have a job?” I asked.
Shrugging, he replied, “I own a shop.”
Thinking that was interesting, I asked, “What’s it called?”
Without expression, he answered, “Diavolo.”
“What’s your last name?” I quickly asked.
Giving me a strange look, he said, “Medero, why?”
Laughing a little, I explained, “You know that means devil or hell depending on how you use it right?”
Apparently, he didn’t find it so amusing.
Suddenly offended, he growled, “I know what it means and that’s why I named it that.”
Finding it hard to keep a straight face, I asked, “'Cause your shop is the devil?”
Insulted, he snapped, “No.”
Unable to help myself, I questioned, “What sorta things do you sell in hell?” with a little laugh.
Furious now, Henley insisted, “I get people what they need.”
Continuing to tease him, I asked, “So you’re the devil?” before laughing so hard I couldn’t catch my breath.
Henley promptly stood up, gave me a hateful glare then turned and left me sitting in The Diner.
Ordinarily, I would have been upset that someone walked off on me like that, however, the whole diavolo hell thing was so funny to me, it kind of cheered me up.
Two days later, I came home from school and found Henley sitting at the kitchen table with my father. Shocked beyond belief, I stood frozen as my father gave me a dead stare while Henley wore a wicked grin on his face.
“You don’t mind if I take Ren off your hands do you, Deangelo?” Henley asked, never breaking eye contact with me.
Stunned to hear the way he addressed my father, I actually gasped when my father replied, “If that’s what you want.”
I had to admit, I was in awe of him.
Henley stood up before giving a slow blink and asking, “How about it?”
I glanced toward my father as he got up and walked to his room.
At a loss for words, I shook my head, asking, “You know my father?”
Without answering, he bit the corner of his lip offering, “I’ll drive.”
Thinking to myself, ‘who is this guy?’ I nodded and followed him out of my house and into his car.
As the shock of having Henley speak to my father as if he was the one in control started to wear off, I realized, again, I didn’t know where we were going.
“Are we going to The Diner?” I asked.
“My house,” he replied.
I couldn’t help asking, “For what?”
Giving me another suggestive smile, Henley said, “I want to make up for last time.”
“What do you mean?” I questioned, knowing he was referring to The Diner but unsure what his plans were.
“That’s up to you,” he shared before saying, “You’re the one I’m making it up to.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I said, “Okay,” before asking, “If you’re trying to make something up to me then why don’t I get to decide where we go?”
“Honestly?” he asked. As I nodded he replied, “I know you’re eighteen. I still don’t want to take out a high schooler.”
Smiling, I saw his point and at the same time, it occurred to me, he was a grown up. With a slight curiosity and a hint of excitement, I quietly rode to his house with him.
We pulled up past a little gate before he stopped the car. He still didn’t open my door for me but waited on the driver side until I made my way around the car and over to him. Making our way down the path that led to his front door, I wondered what brought on his change in behavior. Henley unlocked his front door then opened it. Noticing right away, how clean the inside was, it looked like a brand new house. However, I knew by the way the outside looked, that wasn’t the case.
“My your tidy,” I commented.
With a serious expression, Henley stated, “I don’t like mess.”
I started to worry that between his mood swings and obvious obsessive cleanliness, maybe he had some sort of disorder.
“So do you live here by yourself?” I asked, trying to get a handle on him.
“Yes,” he replied before saying, “Sit.”
I sat down on his couch and watched him walk out of the room. When he returned, he had a different shirt on. He sat down, uncomfortably close to me.
Turning his head to face me, Henley stated, “These are your options. I can make you dinner, I can give you a present or …” stopping when I started to laugh.
“What?” he snapped before I said, “My options? Really, are you serious?”
Giving me a rather nasty look, he gritted his teeth.
Raising my eyebrows, I questioned, “Are you alright?”
Without answering me, Henley leaned so close I could feel his breath on my lips as he offered, “Or I can take you home.”
Scooting back before I jumped up and started shouting, I could not believe what an ass he was.
“What the hell did you ask me out for, if you obviously don’t want to see me?” I yelled before adding, “Take me home then.”
I was so furious with him, I walked outside without waiting for him to lead the way. Getting the feeling I was being played with, I was so angry my chest started to hurt. The longer I waited outside for him to take me home, the madder I got. It made no sense, I didn’t even like him. Somehow, Henley managed to provoke an insecure feeling in me that only my father and a few times Hert had. By the time he finally made it out of the door, I was wiping my eyes trying to keep tears from falling.
Stepping outside, he stared at me. With an indescribable expression on his face Henley pulled my hands from my face and pressed his lips against mine. Appearing as surprised as I was at the feeling, he grabbed hold of me, really kissing me this time. It was so intense, I started to feel frantic. Far from gentle, he pulled me back into the house. Shoving me onto the couch, I should have cared and it should have bothered me, instead, the way he handled me intensified the way his kiss felt. It almost felt like a fight. Every pull and tug was matched by a more forceful kiss, until my shirt was off and I was pulling so hard against his, it started to tear.
“Is this what you want?” he questioned, pressing hard against me.
Shaking my head, I heaved out a “No,” through heavy breath.
Without moving away, Henley asked, “Are you with anyone?”
“No,” I assured before saying, “But…I just met you.”
Leaning in, he kissed me before saying, “You should be with me.”
Trying to gather my senses, I said, “You might be the devil.”
Sinister in expression, he suggested, “Don’t put your shirt back on,” as he got up.
Stretching out on the couch, I watched him walk to the back room.
Henley returned, carrying a shirt in his hand and wearing yet another one. I couldn’t quite
put my finger on it but there was something about him. He was really rude but at the same time he had these charming moments that made me want him. He handed me the extra shirt he was carrying before picking my shirt up off of the floor and folding it, setting it on the coffee table. Then leaning over me, he took my shoes off, placing them side by side next to his underneath the table. Moving my legs off of the couch, Henley sat down before pulling me onto his lap.
“Can I keep you?” he asked, brushing his lips against my neck.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I replied, “I’m not a stray dog.”
With an irritated sigh, he glanced at the clock saying, “Time to go home.”
Taking a deep breath, I was confused. Didn’t he just ask me to stay and now he was shooing me off? Slowly getting to my feet, I handed him back his shirt. He took it then leaned forward and kissed me right above my belly button and all the way up to my chin as he slid his hands up my sides. Holding my arms up high as he stood, he looked down at me. Taking the shirt, he slipped my arms into the holes and then pulled it all the way onto me.
Leaning down, he grabbed my shoes and handed them to me before saying, “Now you have to come back.”
This man was so confusing, I started to wonder if maybe Henley just didn’t know how to express himself.
When a week had gone by, with no word from Henley, I started to get a used feeling. Preoccupied through dinner with the Thomas’s, even Jackson’s smile couldn’t fully cheer me up. I had tried explaining to Emerson but all he said was it was probably in my best interest not to see Henley again. Pulling up at my house, I saw a different car in my father’s parking spot. Determined to ignore him, I crossed my arms and walked right past Henley as he stood in my driveway.
“Your father’s not home,” he informed as I reached the door.
Turning back, I took a few steps towards him, saying, “What are you doing here?”
“I came to pick you up,” he assured.
Making a face at him, I snapped, “Oh, Really!”
With a slow nod he stepped closer and handed me a rose, saying, “Yes.”
Infuriated at his assumption, I fussed, “I haven’t heard from you at all since I was at your house. You think you can just show up whenever you want?”