Better (Too Good series)

by S. Walden

  “Stop calling him Mr. Connelly!” Avery screamed.

  Cadence blinked and reared back.

  “Huh?”

  “That’s the second time, Cadence! The second fucking time you’ve called your boyfriend by his last name! He’s not your teacher anymore! You’re dating him! You’re sleeping with him and living with him! You share a life with him! Just stop it!”

  Cadence was stunned, and then her surprise turned to suspicion. She narrowed her eyes.

  “Whose side are you on?” she asked warily. “Have you been talking to him?”

  Avery scratched the top of her head and let out a dramatic sigh.

  “I’m not taking anyone’s side on this. I think he should have told you a long time ago that he was married. You deserved to know. But you don’t deserve to be pissed off because he had a wife before you. He didn’t even know you then. And you’re punishing him because of it.”

  “Fuck. You.”

  “I’m right, Cadence. I see it. You’re not just hurt that he kept a secret. You’re hurt that he loved another woman and had to let her go unwillingly. Because you know that if nothing happened to her, you wouldn’t be with him. You’d mean nothing to him.”

  Cadence jumped up from the table. “Who the fuck do you think you are talking to me like that?”

  “I know I’m saying things you don’t wanna hear, but you need to hear them. You’re losing it. You’re making bad choices. You’re sabotaging the best thing that’s ever happened to you—”

  “Shut up!” Cadence screamed.

  “You can’t look at what if’s. You have to look at what actually is. He lost his wife. She’ll always be in his heart. You have to let him have that. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you to death because he does. But you can’t keep punishing him.”

  Cadence grabbed her bag and stormed off.

  “Cadence, wait!” Avery called.

  She whirled around and looked at her friend. They’d already attracted the attention of every student in the union, so she didn’t care what she said next.

  “Don’t you dare follow me. I mean it,” she hissed. “I’ll take you to the ground if you even fucking think about it.”

  Again, the angry girl. The alter ego. She was emerging from the recesses more frequently. Taking over without permission. Cadence didn’t talk to Avery that way. But her other self did. And right now, her other self was pissed.

  “I don’t wanna see you guys hurt anymore!” Avery cried.

  “Go talk to Mark about it!” Cadence spit. “You’re good at that. Talking to Mark about me behind my back!”

  She fled the student union before Avery could reply.

  “You have the sluttiest dresses,” Cadence said as she rifled through Carrie’s closet.

  “And?” her friend replied. “I only wear them to clubs. I’m not wearing them around campus.”

  “I can’t do this,” Cadence said. “I’ll look ridiculous in one of these.”

  “Whatever! You’ll look smokin’ hot. And I’m putting clip-in extensions in your hair, too. You’re gonna look like a Barbie doll when I’m finished.”

  Cadence giggled. Well, a Barbie doll sure beat the hell out of an American Girl doll.

  “Are we drinking before we get there?” Cadence asked. She pulled a black strapless dress out and held it up to her.

  “A little. But I’ve got fake IDs for us,” Carrie replied.

  “No way!”

  Carrie walked to her desk and pulled out a drawer. She held up two IDs.

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said. “And I got them for free.”

  “And I thought Avery was bad news,” Cadence mumbled.

  Avery. She hadn’t talk to her in a week, not after the student union episode. She did sneak a peek at Mark’s cell phone when he was in the shower the other night and discovered a text thread between him and Avery. It wasn’t long. She just told him where Cadence was on two occasions and he replied with a “thanks” both times.

  “Avery,” Carrie echoed. “That chick Michael and I met at lunch a while back?”

  Cadence nodded.

  “I don’t think she likes me very much,” Carrie said. She plugged in her curling iron and grabbed her makeup bag.

  “She thinks you’re a bad influence,” Cadence replied, plopping down on Carrie’s bed.

  “Nope. Get up. You’re sitting here where the curling iron will reach.” Carrie stood up and offered her desk chair to Cadence. “And I am a bad influence.”

  Cadence smiled. “It’s so ridiculous. Avery’s the one who sought me out last year to be ‘friends’—” She put “friends” in air quotes. “—just so that she could use me as a cover for sneaking around with her boyfriend.”

  “Oooo, this I gotta hear,” Carrie said, opening her makeup bag and grabbing a brush. She swirled it in mineral foundation and applied it to Cadence’s face like she was buffing scratches out of a car.

  “I went along with it because I wanted a reason to sneak out of my house, too. I told you all about my juvie stint and subsequent lockdown at home,” Cadence replied.

  “Oh, yeah. I remember.”

  “Anyway, we used each other as alibis. I admit I stopped feeling guilty about it after the first few times, so I’m not suggesting I’m a better person than her or anything. I’m not judging her. She can do whatever the hell she wants to do for all I care.”

  Carrie suppressed the urge to grin. Cadence was obviously pissed off, so she had a hard time taking her seriously. Mostly because Cadence was usually sweet, so this other girl appeared almost exaggerated—a caricature.

  “Anyway, she’s got some nerve saying you’re a bad influence. And I don’t even know where she’s getting that. So what that I go to parties with you? What’s the big deal?”

  Carrie swept blush on Cadence’s cheeks. “She’s just jealous. She doesn’t want you hanging out with another girl.”

  “Why? That’s stupid. I can have more than one friend.”

  “Not with some chicks you can’t. They get uber jealous. Sounds like Avery is one of them.”

  Cadence scowled.

  “Hey, don’t do that,” Carrie said, swiping shadow on her friend’s eyelids. “I’m totally doing this whole purple and shimmery gray thing with your eyes. It’s gonna look fantastic.”

  “If you say so,” Cadence replied. She preferred to do her own makeup, but Carrie insisted. She gave in, knowing she’d wash her face and redo her entire look if she looked like a clown or whore after Carrie was finished with her.

  “You’re Avery’s only friend,” Carrie went on, carefully tracing a black line over the edge of Cadence’s upper eyelid. “It’s natural she’d want you all to herself.”

  “So she talks shit about you to me? That’s supposed to make me wanna only hang out with her?” Cadence asked.

  “Hold up. What shit is she talking?” Carrie asked, the liner pencil poised in her hand below Cadence’s eye.

  “Well, she called you a yahoo and said you weren’t trustworthy.”

  “Fucking. Twat,” Carrie replied. “First off, I don’t even know what a yahoo is. Second, what does she know about me being trustworthy or not?”

  Cadence shrugged.

  “Whatever,” Carrie said dismissively. She went back to work on Cadence’s eyes. “You can hang out with whoever you want. And I’m not a horrible person.”

  “I don’t think you’re a horrible person,” Cadence replied.

  That was true. She thought Carrie was like any other normal college girl. She went to class like she was supposed to. She studied when she needed to. She partied when she had the opportunity.

  “Lots of hot guys hang out at this club we’re going to,” Carrie said. And the subject changed just like that—something Cadence really liked about Carrie. She didn’t seem to let too many things bother her. She got “fucking twat” out of the way and then was ready to move on from discussing anything that had to do with Avery. Cadence was more than fine with that. She was ready to part
y tonight.

  Carrie finished applying mascara and then stood back to examine her work.

  “Cadence, you could be a model,” she said after a moment.

  “Really?”

  “Look for yourself.”

  Cadence turned to the small mirror hanging over Carrie’s desk. She studied her eyes, the way they shimmered and popped. Carrie did one hell of a job on her, and she felt beautiful—perhaps for the first time in her life. She no longer felt like the girl next door. She felt like she’d graduated to the “beautiful people” category.

  “And now for the hair,” Carrie said, wiggling her eyebrows. “I’m warning you now. I’m from Texas.”

  “You’re from Texas?”

  “Don’t let the non-accent fool you. I wasn’t born there, but we moved to Texas when I was in middle school, and lemme tell you: I fell in love with everything big. Big eyes. Big hair. Big everything.”

  “Uh oh.”

  Carrie laughed. “Relax! I’m not gonna make you look ridiculous. I’m gonna make you look like a Texas beauty queen.”

  “Beauty queen, huh?” Cadence glimpsed herself in the mirror once more before adding, “Bring it.”

  An hour, a mega hot curling iron, and dozens of clip-in extensions later, Cadence stood in front of Carrie’s full-length mirror taking in her entire look. She decided on the black strapless mini dress to go along with the pink pumps she purchased on her shopping trip last year with Avery.

  Her hair. Good Lord, her hair! Curls cascaded down her back like a waterfall. Wispy curls framed her face. The clip-ins added so much volume and thickness that she was afraid she’d collapse under their weight.

  “I have big hair,” she said.

  Carrie laughed. “Girl, you have hair for days. And it’s fab.”

  “Can I really go out like this?” Cadence asked.

  “Oh my God. After all that work I did? Uh. Yeah.”

  Carrie stood with her hands on her hips sporting a blue sequins mini dress. She decided to go with straight hair tonight and flat-ironed it. Her hair was so long that it nearly reached her waist.

  “Just a couple of hot chicks ready to rock it,” Carrie said.

  She pulled out a bottle of rum from under her bed and filled two plastic cups a fourth of the way. She popped a bit of Coke in each and handed one to Cadence.

  “You’re a ball of nerves, I can tell,” Carrie said.

  Cadence took the drink. “I’m not one for attracting attention, and I’m afraid this hair will do it.”

  Carrie burst out laughing. “Relax. Attention can be good sometimes. And I think you need it right now. Well, that or a diversion. Maybe they’re one and the same.”

  Cadence nodded thoughtfully then sipped her drink.

  “I’m glad it’ll just be us two,” Carrie said after a moment. “Michael gets on my nerves sometimes.”

  Cadence walked back to the mirror to look at her dress. She was also happy Michael wasn’t joining them. Ever since that weird hand tracing incident, she avoided him as much as possible.

  “He’s annoying,” Carrie went on.

  “I thought he was your really good friend,” Cadence said, fingering the ruched fabric hugging her waist.

  “Yeah, he is, but then, that’s why he’s annoying,” Carried explained, watching her.

  Cadence chuckled. “You get close enough to a person, and it’s bound to happen.”

  “Ugh. Tell me about it. That’s why I’m always looking for new friends to hang with.”

  Cadence turned around and cocked her head. “So you’ll eventually find me annoying and dump me as a friend?”

  “Naturally,” Carrie replied, and the girls giggled. “Let’s make a rule to only see each other, like, once a week or something. Then maybe we’ll actually stay friends.”

  “Deal,” Cadence said and finished off her rum and Coke.

  “Another?”

  “No way. That’s the right amount for me,” Cadence replied. Already she felt the low-burning embers in her chest, warming her body and making her face flush.

  “That was like nothing,” Carrie argued.

  “Don’t pressure me.”

  Carrie grinned. “You’re such a good girl.”

  “No! No, I’m not,” Cadence said. She wasn’t good at all. She was a bitch. She hated her best friend at the moment. She hated her boyfriend and communicated with him as little as possible. She hated herself, her black heart and mind that conjured black images of hurting the ones she was supposed to love. She wanted to bury Mark under his lies. She wanted to bury Avery under her own anger and jealousy. She wasn’t growing older and wiser. She was moving backwards because of hurt she couldn’t rectify.

  “What are you thinking?” Carrie asked. She’d been watching her friend the whole time.

  “I’m thinking that I’m ready to dance,” Cadence replied.

  “Then let’s get to it.”

  The club was crowded with gorgeous people—women competing to be the most provocative on the dance floor. Men competing to get closest to them. Carrie and Cadence danced all night, attracting dance partners who weren’t shy about putting their hands on places they shouldn’t. Cadence never protested. She realized she liked the attention and wanted it to follow her to the bar for another free drink.

  The girls actually found a space at the end with two empty stools. They claimed them for the rest of the evening, chatting and laughing about Carrie’s failed dates and her inability to attract the right guys. The conversation eventually turned to Mark, and Cadence spilled her guts about his marriage. Carrie listened intently, ordering more drinks, consoling Cadence who looked like she was on the verge of tears.

  “Your boyfriend shouldn’t have kept that secret,” Carrie said softly. She leaned in and hugged Cadence. Then she kissed her lightly on the cheek. Then her lips steered to Cadence’s mouth, kissing her lightly there, too.

  Cadence reared back. She watched Carrie’s lips curl into a grin. And then Carrie reached over the bar for a lime wedge. The bartender didn’t stop her; he was curious to see what she planned to do with it. He didn’t think she meant to simply drop it in her cocktail.

  Cadence stared, fascinated as Carrie stuck out her tongue slightly and squeezed the lime. She swallowed and licked her lips, then repeated the process all over. A bit of juice dribbled down her chin the second time, and Cadence reached out automatically, tracing her thumb over the sticky trail, wiping it away. It seemed natural to lick the juice off her thumb, so she did, and she watched Carrie while she did it.

  Carrie smiled and leaned in, centimeters from Cadence’s face.

  “This won’t hurt a bit,” she cooed, and Cadence nodded.

  She pressed her tarty lips to Cadence’s. A gentle kiss. She was testing her out, seeing how far she could take it with a girl so innocent. She teased open Cadence’s mouth, and Cadence tasted the lime juice on her tongue—the most delicious and naughty kiss she’d ever had. They mingled their tongues, moaning softly into each other’s mouths as curious onlookers moved in closer. Cadence didn’t notice them. She was too busy trying to taste every bit of fruit on her friend’s lips. She couldn’t get enough.

  Carrie drew back and handed the lime wedge to Cadence.

  “You try.”

  Cadence stuck out her tongue and squeezed the last of the juice. It made her eyes water, and she swallowed fast, squeezing her eyes shut and puckering her lips. Carrie laughed, then trapped Cadence’s face in her hands. This time, Cadence made the first move. She opened her eyes and leaned in. She kissed her friend passionately, drawing her lower lip into her mouth and sucking gently. She thrust her tongue in Carrie’s mouth and shared the lime juice. She ran her tongue over Carrie’s perfectly straight teeth, then explored the inside of her lips—that soft, wet flesh.

  The girls put on quite the show, kissing and holding each other’s hands as men crowded the end of the bar to watch. They clapped and cheered, encouraging the girls to continue their make-out session, maybe take i
t a little further. One young man suggested they touch each other’s breasts, and Cadence laughed.

  “Get lost,” she said. “This isn’t about you.”

  Carrie nodded in agreement.

  They continued drinking into the early hours of the morning, gossiping and sharing stories and mingling their conversation with fruity kisses. It didn’t feel like cheating at all, Cadence realized, perhaps because she was kissing another girl. That made it different. Maybe not okay, but different. She didn’t want to think about if it was okay, though. She wanted to immerse herself in this alternate universe where everything was softer, more lyrical. Feminine tenderness, and she wanted to keep touching and tasting it.

  They stumbled out of the club and into a cab around 4 A.M. The last thing Cadence remembered was their elevator ride back to Carrie’s room. Everything after that was blank.

  ***

  Avery banged on the door.

  Cadence ripped it open and screamed, “Stop harassing me!”

  Avery pushed her aside and walked in. “Then answer me when I text you. When I call you.”

  “I don’t wanna talk to you right now,” Cadence said. “Leave.”

  “No.”

  “Fucking leave!”

  “No.” Avery tossed her purse on the club chair and sank down into the couch.

  “What do you want from me?” Cadence demanded.

  “My friend. I want my friend back.”

  Cadence averted her eyes.

  “Mark and I don’t talk about you behind your back, Cadence. I texted him a few times to tell him where you were. He’s worried about you. Don’t you think you’ve punished him enough?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “I know it’s not. I’m just trying to be a good friend to you. I see you hurting, and I wanna help.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  Avery rubbed her face. “Why are you so angry with me? What have I done?”

  How could Cadence tell her? That she was jealous and angry of Avery’s life. That Avery was growing up and she was growing down. That she felt Avery had the better version of what was supposed to be her life.

  Avery, because she was intuitive, already knew.

  “I don’t even like instrumental hip hop,” she said after a moment. “I think it blows. I just humor Dylan because it makes him happy. That’s all that is.”