by Ward, Kira
“Yeah, and so did I. I don’t know what her problem is though… She told me to leave her alone, so fuck it.”
“Daddy, come play with me!” I could hear Travis whining in the background.
“Go take care of the big man. Don’t worry about me and Amanda, alright?”
“Alright Caleb. Stay safe tonight, alright? Don’t drink and drive.”
“Alright bro,” I said, clicking my phone off.
I shook my head as I pushed my way through the bathroom door and back out to the club. It had been years, but Amanda obviously hadn’t grown up a bit since high school. Using her for sex? Naked pics? I couldn’t make sense of it.
“Sorry about that,” I said to Sam as made it back to the table. I lifted my glass, cheers’d her and Melanie and took a sip. I had started to feel a lot better about my situation, but the call from Mason made my mind muddy again. I just couldn’t quit thinking about how, once again, Amanda let me down.
I lifted my phone up as I continued to drink and moved my legs from side to side, trying to get back into a dancing mood. I clicked on my photos, and scrolled up and down looking through my albums. There was nothing but a few selfies, pics of cars, car parts, Travis, Layla, and Mason. Definitely no naked pics.
I’m not sure what compelled me to look at my messages tab, but when I did, my brow furrowed and my ears burned. I had no unread messages, but right below my message from Yosef was a message from Sunny and a timestamp right around the time that Amanda walked out on me that morning.
When I clicked the message, I wanted to die.
“Holy fuck,” I mumbled. I sat my glass on the table and I turned slowly, probably looking like a ghost as Sam slammed forward into me and began thrusting her crotch against my leg.
“Come on, let’s dance,” she squealed. Behind me, I could feel Melanie’s hands once again going to work, brushing against me lightly.
I held my arms up and gently pushed and pulled away from them. “I’m sorry,” I said.
Sam grabbed my hand as I moved away. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Her eyes looked like a lost puppy dog’s.
“I’m sorry,” I said again and shook my head apologetically. “I have to go.”
Chapter 22
Caleb
My engine cried as I screamed down the highway.
“Fuck!” I slammed my fist against the steering wheel. It all made sense now. Amanda hadn’t lost her mind but had somehow seen the text message that Sunny sent me. It was a little irritating that Amanda looked at my phone, but in truth, the whole thing was all my fault.
I got piss drunk when I hung out with Sunny.
I gave her my number.
And I was the one who lied to Amanda about who Sunny was.
I couldn’t blame Sunny either. She had no idea that I was sleeping with Amanda. No, I dug my own grave this time.
My tires squealed as I pulled into the parking lot of the building where Layla and Mason lived. I parked and ran up the stairs until I was at their door. I knocked three times, so hard that the walls of the building rattled.
After a few seconds, Mason came to the door. “Caleb? What the hell are you knocking so hard for?” He scanned me up and down. “Didn’t you just tell me 15 minutes ago that you were at a club?”
“Is Amanda here?” I asked breathlessly.
“Whoa, whoa…” Mason shook his head. “What’s going on?”
“Just let me speak to Amanda. Please.”
Mason huffed. “Alright, I’ll see if she’ll come to talk… Stay out here. I don’t want to freak Travis out if you two start bickering.” He closed the door and went back inside of the apartment.
“I don’t want to talk to him,” Amanda’s voice bounced through the door.
“Just give him a minute. He looks pretty frazzled out there,” Mason said. “Tell him to leave if that’s what you want.”
“Fine, I’ll speak, but…” She didn’t finish whatever it was she was about to say.
A moment later, the door pushed open and Amanda stepped outside with her arms crossed. She was barefoot, wearing a pair of fitted, cotton leggings and a long-sleeved, fitted tee. “Yeah?” she asked. She looked down at the ground, causing a strand of her hair to fall forward, which she immediately pushed back.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Amanda nodded, clearly not interested.
“I just now saw the photo that Sunny sent. I had no idea that’s what triggered you.”
“Triggered me? Is that all that you think happened?” She smiled and squeezed her lips tightly. “You told me I was the only one.”
“You were the only one.” I shook my head. “I mean, you are the only one. That photo—”
“That photo was proof that you were just fucking around with me.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay, look. Sunny wasn’t a fan. She’s just some girl I met at a club.”
“So that should make me feel better?”
“Let me finish. I met her one time—the night before Mason and Layla’s wedding. We got drunk and went back to my hotel but we didn’t have sex. Maybe we would have, but I was drunk and passed out. Apparently she took pictures that I didn’t know about.”
“And then she just winds up at the gas station?”
“It was random. She saw me and found out I was back in town. She asked for my number is all.”
“And you gave it to her?!”
I took a deep breath and exhaled hard. “Look, Amanda. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings”
“But it’s okay to hurt mine?”
“Of course, I didn’t want to hurt you. I had no intention of ever calling her or seeing her again. And to be fair, it was before we decided that we were going to be together. I never imagined that it would blow up in my face like this.”
Amanda bit her bottom lip and shook her head, looking everywhere but at me. “Okay…” she whispered. “So you only hung out with her once?”
“Only once,” I said. “I swear. I’m sorry I lied about her being a fan. I should have told you the truth from the very beginning. Can you please forgive me?”
“How many others are there?”
“None.” I crossed my arms in front of my body. “None.”
She nodded and let out a light sigh. “Alright, Caleb. I can forgive you.”
“You can?” I smiled and stepped forward to grab her hands, but she quickly dodged me.
“But you still lied to me,” she said softly.
“So does that mean—”
“It means that I’m going to go back in the house and getting ready for bed.” Her eyes raised from the floor and up to mine. “And you should go now.”
“But—”
Amanda reached for the door and pushed it open. “Goodnight, Caleb,” she whispered before she slipped away and turned the latch to lock it.
Gutted is the only way I could describe how I felt at that moment. She was the only girl who had ever made me feel the way that she did, and I lost her again. And this time, it was totally my fault.
Chapter 23
Amanda
“I don’t like the idea of this,” Layla said as she stood behind me, braiding my hair. “Caleb is my brother in law. It’ll really bother him if he sees you going out with Hector.”
“That’s exactly what I want,” I said with a snarl. “He hurt me.”
“You told me that it was just a photo and that he and that girl didn’t even have sex.”
“That’s what he said, Layla. How can I know he wasn’t lying about that too? I mean, the girl was freaking naked in his bed.”
“I guess so.” Layla sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “And he’s always been a bit of a playboy, but—”
“No buts. I’m going to go out with Hector. And besides, it’s just a date.”
My phone buzzed, and I lifted it to look at the screen.
“Will you please fucking stop!” I yelled at my phone and huffed loudly.
“What is it? Rick again?”
&n
bsp; “He just won’t fucking stop. It’s like the 10th text today. Thank god I’m not in The OC anymore… I’d have to look over my shoulder everywhere I go.”
“What about your work? How’s it going?”
“I’ve got a couple shoots lined up this weekend, and I got paid well on my last shoot. I think I’ll be out of your apartment early next week if that’s okay with you.”
“You can stay as long as you want, Amanda. Travis loves playing with you.”
“Thanks babe, but you’ve done so much for me already. I need to get out and get my own place.”
“All set,” Layla said and took a step away.
I turned my head to check out my fresh French braid in the mirror. “Not my usual style, but I like it.”
“Looks good on you.”
My phone buzzed again. This time it was Hector.
“He’s waiting outside for me. I better go.”
“Okay.” Layla gave me a tight hug. “Give me a call if he turns out to be a creep or something. I’ll send Mason to kick his ass.”
I smiled and lifted my arm, flexing a pathetic bicep. “Does it look like Queen Amanda needs any help?”
“Oh please… Queen Amanda?” Layla rolled her eyes. “Get the hell out of here, bitch.”
I grabbed my purse off the counter and took one last look at the pink skort and sleeveless tee that I was wearing. I looked nice, but I was careful not to come off looking too sexy. There was no chance I’d be having any more car sex with any guys anytime soon. I needed a break.
Besides, I was only going out with Hector to get back at Caleb. Hector was cute, no doubt, and maybe he would be a great guy, but even if he was, I wanted to take things very, very slowly. Ultra-casual.
I walked past the living room where Mason and Travis were watching some show on television. The hosts on the program were rebuilding old cars with all kinds of updated, fancy features. Whatever it was, Travis understood it more than I ever would.
I leaned over and gave Travis a kiss on his head. “See you later, big guy.”
“Be careful out there,” Mason advised.
I smiled and nodded as I walked out the door.
Hector was waiting for me in the parking lot as I pranced down the stairs, leaning with his arms crossed against his gorgeous, blue R8. “Well, don’t you look great,” he said as I approached.
“Thanks,” I said with a smile. He grabbed at one of my hands and kissed the top lightly just as he did the day when we first met. When he leaned over, I could see the dark, long hairs poking out of his fitted white shirt, a stark contrast to the jet-black slacks and leather boots. “You look nice.”
“Thank you, my love,” Hector said.
My love? He certainly was a bit over the top with the sweet talk, but in a way I sort of liked it—I had never met a guy who went out of his way to be so suave.
Hector turned and opened the door to the R8 and I slid inside. It smelled new in there, and the seats and dash were covered with smooth black and blue leather. It was very futuristic the way the inside of the car sloped and the various buttons and gadgets reminded me more of a spaceship than a sports car.
Hector jumped into the driver’s side and started the engine.
“Your car is nice,” I said.
“Thank you. It was very expensive.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled. “So… dinner first?”
I smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m starving.”
Hector drove us a good 30 minutes until we arrived to a restaurant named “Ricardo’s”. It had a dimly lit parking lot and valets who were wearing full-on suits. Even before we exited the car, I was feeling underdressed.
Hector handed his keys to the valet when we got out, and he grabbed my hand and walked us to the front door. “One of the nicest restaurants in Miami. I think you’ll really like this.”
When we passed through the entrance, I felt even more uncomfortable. The tables were covered with white cloths, each one of them having a single candle and a rose. Waiters were bouncing between guests, carrying silver platters with wine. It reminded me of the kind of places that Rick always insisted on going.
“Wow, looks expensive,” I said. “But I’m just a cheap date, you know? You could have taken me out for tacos and fries”
Hector laughed. “You’re joking right? Come on, you’ll love it.”
I wasn’t joking. Tacos would have been amazing right then, even the shitty tacos that they had in Miami. Or a burger. Or Outback. Super-formal places weren’t exactly my taste.
“Garcia,” Hector said to the host. The host nodded and escorted us to a table sitting right by the window.
I had to admit that the atmosphere was quite romantic, but the smell of seafood was lingering in the air, and it immediately made me feel nauseous. “Whoooo,” I huffed when we sat down and waved my hand in front of my nose a couple times.
“What’s wrong? Your face is a little red.”
“Just a little bit of a strange smell,” I replied.
“Oysters,” Hector explained. “The oysters they have here are amazing. All of the seafood here is great.”
Our waiter placed our menus in our laps, already open, and when I glanced down, I was thankful that they had food other than seafood. Fish, seaweed, or anything else from the ocean sounded dreadful. I usually liked seafood, but I was definitely not feeling it that day.
I scanned the menu and settled on a bowl of spaghetti and a glass of honey-lemon tea, to which Hector frowned.
“No wine?” he asked.
“Wine doesn’t sound all that good to me right now.” Like fish, the idea of drinking alcohol kind of made me queasy too.
Hector turned to the waiter and ordered a bottle of red wine for himself and some oysters with caviar.
Blech.
The waiter scurried off with our orders, and Hector leaned in on our table. “So what made you give me a call? I thought you’d at least play hard to get for a couple days before I’d hear from you.”
I shrugged. “I figured why not?” I lied. “I’m new to Miami and I’m single. You seem like a nice guy.”
Hector bobbed his head up and down. “And you’re friends with the California racers?”
“Yeah, Caleb and I went to school together. Layla—the girl with the baby who’s married to Mason—is my best friend.”
“So I already know why the others came out here, but what about you?”
“To work.”
“Oh, I haven’t even asked you yet. What do you do for work?”
“I’m a model.”
Hector’s brow furrowed and he sat back in his seat crossing his arms. “That’s interesting,” he said.
“What?”
“I figure there are more modeling opportunities out in LA than there are here in Miami. You’re from LA right?”
“The OC… close enough. And I had a little bit of an issue in LA that made work out here a lot easier for me to get.”
Hector shrugged. “Well good for me,” he said. “Hopefully you’ll stick around a while.”
The waiter brought the wine and tea and we continued chatting as we waited for our food. Hector seemed like a decent enough guy, making an effort to crack jokes and make me laugh, but for the most part the conversation seemed rather stale. It wasn’t nearly as natural as it felt when I was with Caleb.
Eventually, our food arrived, and I was slightly shocked when they sat my spaghetti down on the table. I was expecting a large plate filled with swirling pasta topped with marinara sauce and parmesan, but instead I got small portion of pasta with some strange, white sauce drizzled on top. Around the edges of the plate were tiny clam shells.
“Ummm…” I said to the waiter, pointing to the sauce. “What is this?”
“It’s our special house white sauce,” the waiter replied.
When the waiter left, I leaned in and sniffed the spaghetti. Whatever that sauce was, I would’ve certainly preferred any of the cheap stuff in boxes at the grocery store. It smelled foul.
>
“Let’s dig in,” Hector exclaimed as he looked down at his plate full of oysters and caviar.
I picked up my fork, swirled the spaghetti around and then lifted a small bite to my mouth. As soon as it made contact with my tongue, I knew that the sauce was terrible. It was strong and pungent, having more of a salad dressing taste than anything—I hated salad dressing. Still, I managed to chew and swallow.
“How is it?” Hector asked and lifted one of the oysters to his mouth and dumped the meat and juices down his throat.
“It’s okay,” I lied. It was horrible.
I twirled my fork around the spaghetti again and watched as Hector dumped another slimy oyster down his throat. I could smell the oysters from my seat, and even the clams circling my spaghetti was overpowering. The thought of him eating those slimy, raw morsels of meat was really turning my stomach. I wasn’t sure why… I had eaten all sorts of seafood before, but imagining the food experience that he was having right then was for some reason making me ill.
Why couldn’t he have just taken me to some fast food joint?
I tried to shove some spaghetti in my mouth from the edge of the bowl, some that wasn’t as saturated in sauce as the center, while Hector dumped another oyster in his mouth. Right when he sucked it down, I watched as his throat flexed and he licked his lips after it went down.
Suddenly I wasn’t really that hungry.
My stomach made a churning noise, and right when I was about to put the food into my mouth, I sat my fork down and grabbed at my waist. It growled loudly.
“What’s wrong? Hector asked.
I held up a hand and closed my eyes as I gripped on to my stomach. “I’m okay. Just feel a little weird.”
“Are you sure? You look kind of sick.”
Behind me, I could hear patrons throwing oysters down their throat just the same as Rick. Someone was sucking on something… Maybe ribs or fish bones. Sauce was splashing against soft food. All my senses were amplified.
Another rumble in my stomach.
“Sorry,” I whined. I stood up from the table and frantically looked for the bathroom sign, and once I saw it, I started to run. My mouth was getting salty and my stomach felt like it was going to explode.