Wanted Always (Xander Barns)

by Sarah Tork

  Xander: 8:45

  Be a nice kitty and give Uncle Xander a ring…he misses you.

  Ugh, gross. Note to self: make sure Xander never makes uncle references using himself ever again.

  Next perverted message.

  Xander: 8:50

  I’m not that perverted…I just like what I like…can’t you understand that? When are you going to get here? If I must be honest, the wait…it’s a bit torturous. Come over…soon.

  Xander: 9:01

  Answer your phone or else I’m going to call Daniels to come in and get you. I need to know when you’re coming over.

  And finally the last message.

  Xander: 9:14

  Baby, please…give me something. I was good to you...No?

  My eyes roll.

  Really? He’s starting to piss me off. All this trouble over a pair of undies.

  I text him back.

  Marisa: 9:20

  Bitch!

  WTF?! I can’t just leave my father’s fiftieth birthday party to come and give you the thong I’m wearing. I’ll be leaving within the next hour…but I won’t be coming over. I’ll give Daniels the thong in a plastic bag and I’ll go straight home. Do as you please with it. I don’t owe you shit after this.

  I send the message and let out a deep breath. Honestly, this guy, he’s going to literally drive me crazy; all this commotion for a used thong. I don’t even know what he’s going to do with it.

  Put it on and jerk off?

  Put it on his head and jerk off?

  Put it in his pocket and play with it while he goes out and mingles with people from his social standing.

  That’d be a laugh. I chuckle a little while imagining Xander playing with the thong in his pocket while in a deep discussion on politics or business. Wouldn’t they like to know what the golden boy is doing with his fingers? Wouldn’t they really like to know…like before shaking his hand?

  Reminder: wash hands if ever they should touch Xander’s again.

  My phone buzzes.

  That was fast.

  Xander: 9:22

  Normally I wouldn’t object to a simple delivery; sometimes I prefer it like that. But on this occasion…I’d say there’s nothing better than having ‘It’ as fresh as possible. There’s nothing I want more than to watch you glide that treasure off your temple of creation, right here, in front of me.

  Baby, it’s part of the deal, one that I will not back down from.

  So please…don’t make me miss out what I’ve been salivating for all day.

  I can’t wait to smell everything.

  Kisses and caresses

  I drop my hand with the phone down onto my thigh and lean my head back in frustration. I exhale the breath in my lungs that I want to desperately belt out.

  What the fuck is wrong with this guy? Why? I just got a pretty dress from him and he’s making me do this shit.

  Okay, it’s not that big of a deal, I remind myself. All I have to do is go there, yank off the thong, throw it at his face, and walk out. I’ll never have to see him again…but then again, he knows where I work.

  Shit. I might have to quit my job.

  Whatever. I was going to quit anyway; it’s not like the money is good.

  Okay.

  I text back.

  Marisa: 9:28

  You are so annoying. Fine! I’ll come, but I’m not staying for more than a few minutes. You get the thong and I’m outa there!

  Got it?

  He sends a text back with lightning speed.

  Xander: 9:29

  Baby…you made me so happy…see you within the hour.

  Shit! Now I’d have to come up with an excuse to leave within the hour. Mom won’t be too happy about that; I know the party’s not going to be over until around midnight.

  Whatever, I’m not scared of her; in fact, she deserves an early departure for the shit she tried to pull earlier. She needs to really learn a lesson.

  So fuck her. I will be leaving early. Dad, on the other hand, he’ll be upset. But, actually, I’m sure he’s drunk as a skunk or on his way there., So he probably won’t mind too much that his daughter, who he hasn’t seen for over five months, is leaving, and he doesn’t know when he’s going to see her again.

  It’s all okay.

  I hope.

  Shit. I’m a horrible daughter.

  I’ll have to come up with a plan to make it up to Dad.

  Oh, and his present!! The Canadian Tire gift card! He can totally go there tomorrow and buy things that’ll annoy Mom.

  Win/win?

  I think so!

  I’m laughing quietly to myself when I hear a barrage of heels walk loudly into the bathroom. It’s followed with drunken howling. I quickly shut off my laughter as they make their way inside.

  “Ruthie!” One of them screeches loudly as if she can’t believe something.

  “Shush! Don’t bring attention to us, Francine; it was an accident!” The other hisses back more quietly. Which isn’t saying much, because that first one practically screamed.

  Must be some of Mom’s friends; perhaps the alcohol and the Botox mixture didn’t go so well for them. It’s made them crazier.

  Ruthie and Francine…do I remember them? A memory flashes in an instant as images from last summer come to mind. Mom was having one of her summer parties, and one of her many divorced friends came over wearing a scantily short dress with her boobs popping out. No wait, there were two of them, and the dresses they were wearing were a size too small for them. They were out on the hunt, and Mom was taking them around introducing them to all the singles.

  Mom was a Madame in her own right that night. In fact, I should have expressed that thought with her that night in front of everyone. I’m sure she’d have loved the recognition.

  Really!

  It would have been a world-war that night if I had.

  Damn it…always getting the genius ideas after.

  “I know it was an accident, you dirty girl, but I can’t believe you! You just had sex with that sexy food attendant in the back room! That was on purpose…don’t you deny it!” The one named Francine exclaims wildly, as if she can’t believe it.

  OMG! My mouth drops. No way!

  The one named Ruthie squeals loudly.

  Hurray for her! She got some from one of the employees.

  “It was amazing; we did it in the broom closet and he came all over me. My vagina is still throbbing. Ohhh,” Ruthie purrs.

  Oh God…graphic images…no!

  “He came all over you? You’re still wearing your thing, right?” Francine asks in a slightly hushed tone.

  Uh-oh, ladies. The cat is out of the bag. Ruthie, you dirty slut, having unprotected sex with one of the waiters! How scandalous!

  “Of course I am. I had one put in after Marcus and I divorced,” Ruthie answers. “I do not need a pregnancy scare. I already have two little ones that I can’t stand to be around for too long; and thank God, they’re at their father’s for the entire month!”

  Fucking bitch!

  “That’s fab. We should totally go to Vegas next weekend!” Francine exclaims excitedly.

  Totally?

  “That’s an amazing idea! It’ll be so much fun. A spur of the moment trip, maybe some of the other girls would love to come as well,” Ruthie says happily.

  “Oh! I’m so excited, shopping, dancing, gambling, late night rendezvouses with gorgeous younger bachelors,” Francine slurs loudly.

  Stop yelling; people can hear you. Jesus, doesn’t she have kids too?

  Yes, I think she does.

  “Ugh, all this talk about sexy bachelors has me riled up all over again,” Ruthie says, then moans as her shoes click wildly over the floor. “I’ll just take this off…don’t need it now that I’ve decided to go catch Donald again!”

  “No, you’re going back for seconds?” Francine exclaims in disbelief.

  “Darling, I’m going back for thirds!” Ruthie purred. “Give me that empty Sears bag from
your purse.”

  I hear the sound of plastic crinkling.

  “He came all over them!” Francine screeches.

  What?! Disgusting! I shake it off. I have to shake it off.

  “Among other places, and I loved it!” Ruthie hisses like she’s extending her tongue in and out, and then makes lip-smacking noises.

  My eyes bulge.

  Shake it off…shake it off, Marisa.

  NO!

  “You are so bad,” Francine hisses uncontrollably. “Oh my God!”

  Francine giggles loudly. “Your black underwear are now zebra print, darling.”

  “Why do you think I’m throwing them out? I love it on me, not on my clothes,” Ruthie answers, then the sound of plastic crinkling stops.

  “Now that that’s been dealt with, how about you help me find Donald? I’ve got something I need to tell him,” Ruthie says sexily.

  “Oh my God, you’re bringing the girls out again?”

  “He seemed rather fond of them before. Why not bring them out more and watch him explode with desire? I can’t wait,” Ruthie says. The sound of Francine giggling in disbelief and sheer joy dim out as they leave the bathroom.

  What the hell was that?

  I feel violated.

  I should sue…something! The images. The words. Zebra print?!

  I’ll never be the same again. I can never go to the zoo again! No, I love the zoo.

  Curses.

  Congratulations, Mother; these are the friends you’ve been blessed with, hormone-enraged divorcees looking for hookups anywhere they can get it.

  MILFs!

  I peek through a gap in the stall to make sure the coast is clear of those bumbling, drunken idiots. I do not want to run into them accidently and have to explain about not actually hearing their little conversation about cum and zebra print.

  My phone rings as I exit the stall. I check the caller I.D, and roll my eyes with exasperation.

  It’s Xander.

  Again?!

  What now?

  I bring the phone to my ear after answering his call.

  “What now?” I hiss through the receiver. I stop in the middle of the passageway exiting the bathroom.

  “Well, hello to you too,” Xander laughs from wherever he is.

  “Well, is there something you need, Xander?” I ask him impatiently.

  “Just wanted to know something,” he asks timidly.

  I slowly walk out of the passageway.

  “Yes, and that is?”

  “Do you think maybe you can run a little before coming over, like in the parking lot?” he asks me, and it takes me a few seconds before I kind of understand what he really wants.

  Sweaty undies?

  Nasty.

  “You are…you are…Goodbye, Xander!” I hiss disgusted and end the call.

  I can’t believe him. It’s bad enough that I have to leave my father’s birthday party early (even though I’m not having that great of a time) going to him just so I can hand deliver my thong because he wants it fresh.

  I should tell him to go fuck himself, that I don’t owe him shit, and that if he wants to, he can try and sue me, because I’m not going to do shit for this joker. I went out with him last night (I know, stupid!) and that should have been plenty in the favor category.

  In fact, with the shit he pulled this morning, he owes me! Owes me big! I charge out the passageway with my head down; it’s as if I’m a bull with steam rushing out if my ears in angry madness.

  I’m livid.

  I also don’t look where I’m going and charge head-first into someone standing right outside the bathroom entrance.

  “Whoa!” I belt out as my head goes into the hard frame of my victim. “I’m so sorry!”

  I glance up as I rub the side of my head where it hit, but I drop my hand when I see who it is I crashed into.

  Ben.

  Shit.

  Now what?

  “Why were you standing there? You scared me!” I yell at him, stepping away from his embrace, and begin walking away. Ben grabs my arm, stopping me.

  I stare at his hand. “Take your hand off of me.”

  “No,” Ben says sternly.

  “I won’t ask you again; take your nasty-ass hands off me!”

  “No, I won’t; who’s Xander?” Ben asks me acidly.

  I’ve never really seen him like this before, a little jealous.

  I should play it up, but I’m not really in a game-playing mood right now. I’ve got a parking lot to go find and jog in.

  Master’s request.

  Damn Xander and his deep pockets! Why couldn’t I get the debt thing off my conscience? I wish I could believe myself when I say I really don’t owe him anything. But my beautiful dress, the shoes, and the hair and makeup…that stuff costs a lot of money, clearly.

  Back to Ben…someone I owed fucking nothing to. Well, except for maybe a knee to the groin.

  “Why do you want to know?” I reply amused.

  “Who is he?” Ben asks sternly.

  Does he think he means business when he uses that tone with me? That it makes him more of a man??

  Someone needs a reality check, clearly!

  “None of your business,” I tell him as I lean toward him, his hand still clasping onto my arm.

  “You’re so full of it.” Ben shakes his head. “So, it makes sense now. The new dress. The new look. The ride in the SUV. Was it all from that guy, Xander?”

  Yes! But it’s not like that.

  I shouldn’t care that right now Ben is making me feel like a whore, even though I told Mom and Gwen that I had a pimp and he was responsible for the new outer me. But I don’t like hearing Ben imply it.

  The only person who can imply things here is me. Not jerk-offs and bitches like Ben and our mothers.

  Fuck them!

  I lean closer to him, looking him dead in the eyes.

  “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. Why the fuck do you care anyway?” I whisper acidly.

  “Stop playing with me,” Ben whispers back, pulling me closer.

  Wait! What?

  I lean back.

  “I’m not playing with you. You were set free months ago, so run along. There’s nothing for you here,” I tell him sternly. “Besides, don’t you have a date to get to?”

  Shit, I thought I was on a roll. I really shouldn’t have said that. Now he knows.

  Knows that I read his email.

  Ben smiles snidely. Like he knows shit now.

  Fuck!

  “So, you have been reading my emails.” Ben’s snide smile grows.

  Shit!

  “And you didn’t feel the need to respond to them at all? That’s nice, real nice, Marisa.” Ben’s eyes narrow.

  “I had nothing to say to you; and honestly, it confused the shit out of me, wondering why you were taking your princess-time to email me,” I inform him matter-of-factly. “I mean, didn’t you have things to do? You know, like make out with some more short, skanky redheads? I’m sure there’s bound to be more than just that one from Kyle’s party. What do you think, at least five left in Ottawa alone that haven’t had the privilege of kissing your precious cashmere lips yet?”

  Ben’s face turns red.

  Goal one for me!

  “What did you just say?” he asks me slowly.

  “You heard me,” I whisper back.

  “I didn’t cheat on you with multiple women; how dare you! The girl at the party was a drunken mistake!” Ben growls.

  “Not my problem anymore. What you did or you didn’t do, go kiss, go fuck, just go and do whatever you want to do; just leave me alone,” I hiss at him.

  “Is that what you really want?”

  “Made that clear five months ago. Guess you didn’t hear me loud and clear back then when I moved to another city,” I tell him.

  “You’re full of shit! You know that, right?” he says in disbelief.

  “Among other things, but sure, add that to the list. I know how you love add
ing every con about me to it, with anticipation every time one came up. You were always so happy to see me crash and burn in all things in my life!”

  Ben lets go of my arm, finally, and steps back with his eyes widening. “You’re crazy. Delusional!”

  “That’s right, and proud of it!” I jerk my chin up to him. “So step aside, princess-boy, and don’t let me catch you anywhere near me ever again. You’ve got that disease still, I see; bet you thought those red spots around your lips were just pimples. My opinion, the way you’ve been acting lately, you best get that checked, like now.”

  I take a deep breath.

  “You have a problem, Marisa,” Ben whispers, looking at me like I’m unstable.

  Maybe I am. Wouldn’t have it in any other way; I want him to think twice before speaking to me ever again.

  The psycho ex-girlfriend.

  “No – not just ‘a’ problem, correction, a lot of problems. I’m a changed girl. That’s right, I twitch now, and blurt loud obscenities when I get angry!”

  Ben’s worried expression fades as disbelief takes over.

  “Oh, so this is you angry?” Ben states amused.

  I’m burning I’m so angry right now.

  “No baby, this is not me angry. Trust me, you’ll know when I scream your ear off in front of every one of those fancy-pants ass-wipes back in there who think they’re hot shit. Then you’ll know what humiliation really feels like, what feeling like shit is like! Golden Boy!” I tell Ben in a low voice.

  “Now, get out of my way.”

  “No,” Ben says.

  “I said, get out of my way!”

  “No!”

  “I will move you myself if I have to; don’t play with me Ben.” I tell him sternly.

  “Go ahead; let’s see you do your worst.”

  I stay as quiet as does he. We are in a quiet duel, seeing who will make the first move.

  Fuck this shit!

  I get my body ready to make the first move and charge through him when I remind myself that I’m wearing a brand new dress, and I don’t want to rip it. So I relax my stance back into its original position.

  “You know, you’re lucky I’m wearing a dress that I love, or else I’d have tackled your ass right out of my way,” I explain to him.

  Ben takes a step closer, leaning in. “Trust me, baby, I almost wish you weren’t wearing that dress either so you would. God knows, I’ve been waiting,” he explains in a husky voice.