by Jamie Knight
I got out my phone and dialed the number.
"You don't have to go," I said, as the the phone rang.
"Yes, I do."
"Hey, Sarah? Yeah, another special assignment for you."
"Special assignment?" Kora asked.
"Our code for a job that doesn't involve me being in the car."
"Oh," Kora said, almost sounding disappointed.
"She'll be here in five minutes," I said.
"Great," Kora said, walking unsteadily towards the door.
I followed her to the main doors, just so she didn't get lost on the way.
"Do you need -"
"No, thank you," Kora said quickly, heading out into the night, carrying her shoes, still somewhat unsteady.
I watched as Sarah helped Kora into the back of the limo, not leaving the doorway until the limo had gone.
Closing the door, I went back to the parlour.
I could still smell her.
I saw the butt plug and lube on the floor. I picked them up and returned them to their proper place.
Then I went back down to the parlor and started looking through my record collection. Lou Reed. Perfect. Setting the needle to "Perfect Day," I went to the mini-bar and poured myself a double shot of vodka.
Chapter Fourteen - Kora
The Art of the Bean had been our favorite hangout when we were younger. Kristen would get whatever fancy sounding coffee she had heard about recently. I usually just stuck to hot chocolate with whipped cream.
It was pretty easy to have simple tastes when that was all you could afford. Kristen always offered to pay, of course, and I had always politely refused.
Kristen was already at our favorite table when I arrived, sipping a frothy looking something out of a mug that more looked like a small bowl with a handle. Across from her was a mug of hot chocolate and whipped cream.
"You remembered," I said, sitting down on the hot chocolate side of the table.
"Of course I did; I always remember the important things," she said.
"So, not your bank balance," I said.
"Never," she said.
I took a sip of the hot chocolate, which was ridiculously good. Even better than I had remembered.
"You've got -"
"What?" I asked.
Kristen reached out an wiped a bit of whipped cream off of my nose with her thumb.
"Oh," I said, blushing.
"It's okay," Kristen said, "I don't think anyone saw."
"Unlike your tearful reunion with Mr. Cuddles," I said, it coming out meaner than I meant.
"I still can't believe he found it. I really thought it was gone. Lost in a move to college when I was eighteen. I cried for about a week."
"Must have meant a lot to you."
"M-my mom gave it to me," Kristen said.
"Oh," I said, feeling like a jerk.
Their mom had died when Kristen was in her last year of high school. Logan had been away at college and was mostly estranged from their dad, so he hadn't been paying attention to messages and hadn’t heard until after the fact. It was Kristen sitting by their mom's bed as she slipped away.
I had heard from a mutual friend, the Parker siblings and I having drifted apart by that point.
"How are things going with you and Logan?" she asked, changing the subject.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, come on. I saw you two sneaking away at my party. I know my brother and I know you. You didn't what to disturb anyone at my party with your crazy fucking. Which I appreciate, by the way."
"Oh," I said, the warmth returning to my cheeks.
"It's okay, babe, I don't mean to pry or anything."
"It's complicated," I said.
"Ah," Kristen said, with a sly wink.
"No not like that. Not like fuck buddies. Honesty, I think fuck buddies would have a more stable and healthy relationship."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, at least they would know where they stood. With Logan and me, it's all really complex and weird. More hate/love than love/hate. On my end anyway. I have no idea what's going on in that head of his."
"You and me both," Kristen agreed.
"We both seem down to fuck. Almost desperate for it, if I'm honest. Can hardly keep out hands off each other."
"So I noticed."
Ugh. It was always weird talking to her about her brother. I guess that was one of the downfalls of dating your best friend’s brother.
"But then I remember what happened before and it all falls apart. I just start waiting for him to be a jerk again and push me away, so I basically get out before I'm thrown out. I really don't think I could stand that again. Not from him. I-I love him too much. Does that make any sense?"
"In an odd sort of way," Kristen said.
"Exactly, it is all odd. My feelings don't seem to know what to do so I end up wanting to punch him and fuck him, to stay forever and to get away all at the same time."
"You could try S&M. That might help with the first part."
"Did you really just say that?" I asked.
"Sure, why not? Lots of people try it now. I'm not really into it myself but can see how someone else might be. To each their own, right?"
"Right. Though to be honest, and I really hope this isn't, you know, TMI, but I kind of did that without directly telling him I wanted to. I-I told him to hurt me."
"In those exact words?" Kristen asked.
"Yes."
"You literally said 'hurt me'?"
"Yes."
"But he didn't."
"No, he flatly refused. Said he would never hurt me on purpose."
"Yeah, that sounds like my brother," Kristen said, "even when he was deflowering every virgin who said yes, he was still gentle about it and did his best not to hurt them. This is what some of the girls actually told me. Enough that I believed it. I actually got brave and asked him why he did it. A weird question to ask your brother, but I had to know. Was it just a pleasure thing?"
"What did he say?" I asked.
"Something like 'sweet fancy Moses!' He was never really comfortable talking about sex, especially to me. I pressed him though and he said that he wanted to do it before anyone else did, to make sure their first time was good and the girls weren't hurt."
"Really?"
"I'm guessing it was partly a pleasure thing too but yeah and I believed it."
"Has he always had intimacy issues?" I asked.
"I really don't think that's fair."
"Not fair? He threw me out of his room while I was blowing him."
"Yeah, I know," Kristen said, cringing at the memory.
"So, why did you want us together now? You know our past as well as anyone. What exactly has changed to make you think Logan and I could ever work? I mean, you did try to warn me at the time and the whole reason I'd stopped Logan up on the mountain was that I thought you wouldn't approve! I loved you, Kristen, and didn't want you to be mad at me. I also knew you had my best interests at heart and that if you said he was bad for me, I should listen to my best friend. When he threw me out of his room during his college break, I just figured you were right. It feels wrong for you to want us to get together now."
"I-I guess I just feel guilty about ruining things with him when we were teens. I felt like I was standing in the way of your happiness and I want you both to be happy. I was trying to to make up for it,” she said, as if trying to choose her words carefully.
"You didn't ruin anything. Logan and I both made our own choices."
"Which you might not have, were it not for me," she said, and I couldn't really argue.
"I guess," I said, not wanting to make her feel worse than she already did.
"I know it is selfish of me, but I would still like to stay in your life if possible. I understand it isn't meant to be with you and Logan and I won't push it anymore. After I ran into you again as a fluke, I just felt like it was fate’s way of telling
me I should try to rectify things between not only you and me, but also between you and Logan…”
“But that’s not your problem,” I told her. “Don’t worry about that.”
“I feel like it is my problem,” she mumbled, but didn’t elaborate.
“Listen, Logan always says you worry about everyone else’s happiness but your own. This is a good time to stop that. I’m fine. It’s not your issue to fix.”
“Okay. So we can stay friends, though?”
"I think I can handle that," I joked.
"I'm glad, I really do, you know love you."
"I know and besides, there seems to be some kind of cosmic, magnetic force pushing Logan and me together now, so we really don't need you for that."
"Oh, good, that's a lot of pressure off of me," Kristen said.
It sounded like a joke, but the look on her face looked serious. So I couldn't tell if she was joking or not.
All I could do was hope that Logan and I could work out things between us on our own and that it wouldn’t affect things between Kristen and me. But from past experience, I knew that one of these relationships often affected the other.
Chapter Fifteen - Kora
I didn't really have the money, but I bought a dress anyway. It just seemed like too good of an opportunity to pass up. Frilly and bright pink, it was the ugliest vintage prom dress I could find.
I had gotten a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach when the invitation to the high school reunion had arrived. All embossed and official.
High school hadn't really been the best time in my life. Or, at least the good was mixed in with a whole lot of bad and I didn't think I really needed a reminder of those days. Seeing my old friends and how successful they were now.
Then I realized that there was no reason to take it seriously. I had always figured that it was impossible for something to hurt you if you could laugh at it. So I decided to treat it like the joke it was. Pretending I actually gave a shit.
The whole thing was just as garish as I had feared. The school gym was decked out like every prom and high school reunion set for every cheesy movie ever made. Right down to the huge glass punch bowl, invariably spiked, and clusters of balloons.
It was an effort not to laugh out loud. I tried my best to keep it contained.
"Pretty ridiculous, right?"
I turned and hugged Kristen. She had a similar idea to the one I went with and was wearing the same sort of outfit she had had when we were in school. Both of us seemed to be going for a motif of absurd nostalgia. Hers a bit more literal and personal than mine.
No one got our little joke, acting surprised that Kristen would dress that way when she had the job that she did, and reacting with tight lipped amusement at my own fashion statement. Which also served as a statement of rebellion. How ironic that they were laughing at me for looking like I was stuck in the past when the only reason most of them had come was to gloat about how far they had come since then.
Neither Kristen nor I had brought dates, deciding it was something only we could really understand. So, on the occasions we actually got the nerve to go out onto the dance floor, neither of us being terribly rhythmically gifted, me being more clumsy and her ganglyness not doing Kristen any favors, we danced together during the slow songs.
It was a sight that caused some raised eyebrows and suggestive elbowing from many of the alleged men in attendance, most of them not having matured one iota since graduation.
"Do you think we should kiss? You know, really sell it?" Kristen joked.
"Nah, they might have a heart attack," I said.
"Good point," she agreed, "punch?"
"I don't think there's any reason to resort to violence," I said, pretending not to have understood what she meant.
"Come on," she said, leading me off the dance floor toward the well stocked refreshment table.
"Yep, the punch is definitely spiked," Kristen said, taking another sip.
"Is that why you are on your fifth cup?" I asked.
"I needed to be sure,the scientific method and all that."
"Right," I said, rolling my eyes.
"Want some?" she asked, pouring out another cup.
"No thanks, I'm good," I said.
"Suit yourself," she said with a shrug, before downing the entire cup of punch in one go.
"I would be interested in a pastel. If you have any with you," I said.
"How do you know about that?"
"I got talking to your lovely Hippie friend at your party. She told me all about them."
"Ah, Lavender, she can be quite - interesting."
"Lavender?" I asked, not sure I heard her right.
"Lavender Moon," Kristen said, taking another swig of punch.
"I'm guessing that’s not her given name," I said.
"Oh, it is."
"It is?"
"Yeah, saw her driver’s license and everything because I didn’t believe it either at first. She's like a third generation Wiccan or something. They all have names like that. Her dad is something like Wolf Birch and her mom is Raven Sage."
"Cool."
"I think I still have some," Kristen said, finishing off her eight glass of punch.
She looked through her clutch-like pocketbook and sure enough, she had a small metal tin about half full of pastels in there. Checking to see if anyone was looking, she popped open the container and let me take two out before getting them back into her pocket.
I popped them both in my mouth at the same time. Lavender was right: they were chewy, like gummy bears and they didn't taste too bad either. I was just being taken over with an abiding sense of calm when my phone rang.
"Hello," I said, turning away from Kristen, who was in the process of pouring yet another glass of punch.
"Hey princess," Logan said from the other end.
"Hi," I said, unsure how to respond.
"How's the reunion?"
"Like watching paint dry. Kristen is the most interesting person here. I have resorted to drugs. Well, kind of."
"Kind of drugs?"
"Yeah."
"What kind of drugs, specifically?"
"Some health food thing," I said, vaguely, since I still didn’t know, myself.
"Oh, yeah, those. Get them from Kristen and her hippie friend?"
"Yeah," I said, guessing that Ms. Moon had tried to sell him on them before, too.
"Would you like to come over after?"
"To your place?"
"Yeah, we can listen to records or something."
"Sure," I said.
"Great, call me when you want me to send a limo around."
"Sarah or Timothy?" I asked, meaning the driver.
"Whichever you want," he said.
I definitely wanted Sarah. She had taken good care of me both times she had to drive me home and honestly didn't seem to pass any judgement. The closet thing to a prying question she asked was if I wanted to see a doctor after my first sex adventure at Logan's place. I must have looked a lot worse than I felt.
Kristen and I danced to some cheesy music that was popular when we graduated. We did our best to make small talk with our old classmates, but it proved difficult.
Then the reunion finally started winding down and I helped Kristen into an Uber; she been far too drunk to drive.
After I helped her into the back seat, she gave me a big hug and said, “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”
“Hopefully not for another five years, at least,” I joked.
“Love you. Have a nood gight.”
“Love you too, drunkie,” I told her, shutting the door and waving my thanks to her skeptical-looking Uber driver.
When the car was out of sight, I got my phone out of my coat and hit redial.
"Sarah," I said, when Logan picked up.
As the limo maneuvered up the road, my mind raced, tying to figure out just what the hell I was doing. Not that it re
ally mattered. It was already far too late. I had made my decision and would have to live with it.
"Do you know the way?" Sarah asked, as I got out.
"I think so," I said.
“Okay, have a good night.”
Sarah closed the back door and drove off as I started up the stairs. My shoes were flats so I didn't have nearly the same trouble scaling the mini mountain of marble. Grandpa Logan must have been really compensating for something.
Going mostly on pretty vague memory, I found my way to the parlor. Logan was sitting on the couch, wearing a mostly deconstructed version of his signature suit, a timber of vodka in his hand.
Morrissey was on the stereo, crooning about how he is human and needs to be loved.
"Hey, sweetheart," he said, not turning to face me.
I froze in the doorway, not sure what to do.
"It's okay," he said, patting the seat next to him.
Cautiously, I went over and sat down next to him. The fine leather was creaking under me.
"Sorry for my appearance; I was at the club with the boys. Figured I would drink something decent."
That certainly explained the 'sweetheart' stuff; Logan was clearly as hammered as a nail.
"Oh, no, that just won't do,” he said, looking over at me and seeing my dress.
"Oh, right, I was a bit of a joke," I said.
"I get it," Logan said, without a trace of humor, "but take it off, please. I’m in the mood to see you with nothing on."
"Okay," I said, slipping off the dress and placing it on the couch beside me.
If it were anyone else, I would have told them where to go and what to do when he got there, but Logan had been so polite about it and seemed genuinely desperate to see me naked.
All of a sudden, I started to feel a bit intimidated. I told myself that it wasn't that big of a deal, really. I still had my underwear on, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen me naked before.
"Thank you," he said, seeming genuinely relieved.
He put a hand on the inside of my bare thigh, inches away from my silk-clad pussy. My breath caught in my throat and I thought he was going to fuck me right then and there. Push me down, yank off my panties and pound my little pussy until I screamed. I trebled with desire at the very thought.