by Hughes, Maya
“With the lights off.” Someone else chimed in with that charming little comment.
Ducking back inside the bathroom, I pushed my palm against the door, so it closed slowly, without a sound. That’s the last thing I needed—them knowing I’d heard them. It would only make it worse, and I didn’t need to hear the fake words of apology or how I’d misheard the comments. Stop being so sensitive. You’re overreacting. Don’t make a scene.
I stood in the bathroom with my garment bag surprise from hell and stared at myself in the mirror until I slammed my eyes shut, unwilling to spill any tears in front of them. Splashing water on my face, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Flushed, a little blotchy, and apparently only a good enough lay in the dark.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tightened my grip on the edge of the sink. Breathe through it. Don’t let their words chip away at you. Why was I even surprised? Why had I thought things would be different? And to have Berk have to witness it. Kill me now.
Checking outside to make sure they were gone, I bolted straight for the room and didn’t look back. Nothing mattered but getting out of there and trying to hold myself together. Sixty hours. Make it through the next two days and everything would be okay.
I nearly tackled one of the staff and asked about getting the key to my room. Shifting from foot to foot and checking over my shoulder like I was being inducted into the witness protection program, I rushed out of the lobby with my key in hand and an apology that my bags had been misplaced ringing in my ears. This wasn’t the airport. How were my bags ‘lost’ from the bottom of the bus to here? Probably something to do with my mom and sister not wanting me to find alternate clothing options for tonight. I could scream, if I weren’t already on the verge of crying.
The garden and greenhouse were where I usually went when I needed to think out here, but the hot mugginess outside was enough to deter me. The last thing I needed was a knockdown, drag out fight with the frizz if I wandered around outside, let alone in the greenhouse. Plus, my room was safer.
Creeping down the hall, I spotted my room number, or, should I say our room number. Eventually I’d emerge and find Berk, apologize profusely, but at least I’d maintain a little of my dignity. I hung up the garment bag on the bathroom door and flopped down on the bed. Damn, it was comfy. The people who my mom had gotten to take over the place had nothing if not impeccable taste. I tilted my head to the side.
There was a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket beside the mini bar. Freshly cut flowers in an arrangement sat on the low table in the seating area by the door.
I stared up at the ceiling. “Dad, I don’t know what to do. They’re all I have left—but I don’t know how much longer I can take it.” I talked to him like I had for so many years since he’d been gone. Wishing and praying it had all been a mistake and he was sitting in some hospital somewhere, maybe with amnesia, and one day he’d come back and whisk me away from all this. Somehow it hurt more that they were my own mom and sister, not some evil steps who wanted me out of the way.
It made that pain even worse. I was part of my mom and all she wanted to do was cut that part of herself out and throw the rest of me away. Throw my dad away. But I wanted the books first. I wanted the Peter Rabbit books she’d promised me. I needed them to remember those rainy days with my dad, curled up in his favorite window seat while he read them and did all the voices. I could go buy other copies from a store for the stories themselves, but these books were the ones he’d touched and drawn in. That mattered.
Pushing my glasses up, I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand. So many tears spilled over their words and digs at me.
I longed for those books. Those were happy family memories I couldn’t let go.
The door opened and I sat up and stared out the window.
“There you are. I came here first when you disappeared, but you weren’t here.” Berk closed the door behind him.
“I got a little side tracked.”
“Okay, should I check out this costume? I’ve been dying to see what’s inside.”
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” I blurted out.
“You bring me all the way out here and you want me to go.” The hint of hurt in his voice pressed the knife in deeper.
What the hell was I doing? Why had I let him come? I wanted to spend time with him, that’s why. My pathetic attempt to maybe force some bonding and have one person I knew who would be on my side this weekend.
Tilting my head to the side, I looked at him with what had to be red-ringed eyes. “Do you want to stay?”
“If you want me to. I promise I won’t embarrass you—much.” He smiled and ducked his head trying to catch my gaze.
“It’ll probably be the other way around.”
“You’ve never been to one of our parties. I’ve been known to bust out The Worm and The Robot on occasion.” He swung his garment bag down off his shoulder.
I chuckled. “Doesn’t sound too embarrassing.”
“I didn’t say I was good at them.” He crossed the room and threw his bag over the edge of a high-backed chair in the seating area.
If Laura or my mom saw that, they’d have a freaking cow. I stared at my own garment bag hung neatly off the bathroom door and I wanted to run up, grab it, and throw it on the floor. I hadn’t looked inside yet. The strength for that would take a few more minutes or hours to gather.
“What’s up, Julienne Fries?” The bed dipped as he sat beside me.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been around this group.”
“And it feels weird?”
“It’s weird hanging out with people I grew up around now that I’m in college. I’ve… changed.” More like gotten used to living my life on my own without the voices in the background constantly reminding me how I’d never stack up. “Is it weird for you, going home?”
In his letters he’d always kept our conversations to the present. The here and now, and never ventured too far into the past. I was okay with that. I didn’t want to be the same girl with the even sadder story.
“I don’t.”
“You don’t? As in you don’t go home?”
“No, I don’t have a home to go back to.” He tilted his head and corner of his mouth lifted, but it was a thin ghost of a half-smile.
“No family?”
A flicker of sadness rushed across his face. “I have a sister, but… that’s complicated. So, to come here and see a place your grandparents owned, that’s pretty cool.”
Here I was bitching about my shitty family when Berk barely had any family at all.
He hadn’t mentioned it much in our letters. I’d kept things to my sexy thoughts I was too scared to live out in the real world, and things like movies I liked because I didn’t exactly feel like delving into my past. It seemed he’d felt the same way. All the time I was worried about him knowing too much, but he hadn’t been delving into his past either. As much as our letters had changed over time, we’d both been keeping things from one another. “I didn’t know about your family.”
“How could you?” He lifted one shoulder. “And I didn’t say that to make you feel bad for me or anything.” His gaze danced around the room, finding every fresh flower and wallpaper design fascinating and ignoring my own.
“I don’t.” My small smile caught in the corner of his eye and the tension leaked out of his body second by second.
“Are we doing this thing?” He rubbed his hands together. “Going out there and showing your sister’s friends how the FU crew does it?” His tough guy voice made me laugh.
“Yeah, let’s do this.” I stared at the garment bag like I’d somehow be able to transform it into a pair of comfy sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt with my mind.
“Did you want to change first?” He lifted his chin toward the open bathroom door.
“Sure, might as well get it over with.” The laughter leaked out of my body with each step toward the garment bag. I threw a weak smile to Berk over
my shoulder and unhooked it from the door, disappearing inside the bathroom.
Taking a deep breath, I unzipped the bag. A moment of relief that it wasn’t a mini skirt was quickly replaced by horror. My eyes bulged at the neckline. Weren’t people back in the 20s prudes? What fresh hell was this?
Doing a few ‘you’ve got this’ mantras in my head, I took off my glasses and set them down on the counter. I hefted the dress off the hanger. The silky champagne underlay was covered by long strands of shiny material that added about ten pounds to the thing. I slipped the dress on. It was long sleeved, at least, only slightly pinching. It seemed Mom didn’t want me to totally embarrass her.
But the front. The neckline plunged way down, showing off the girls like I should be on stage in Vegas. With my arms raised over my head and fingers grazing the top of the back, I spun in circles for at least eight minutes trying to snag the zipper to pull it up. Turning toward the mirror, I stared at my reflection. Finally, using a bit of ingenuity and the shower stall handle, I contorted myself and grabbed the zipper, tugging it up.
Holy hell. My girls, the ones I usually kept well under wraps, were singing to the heavens. So much cleavage. The lacy fringe on the cups of my bra peeked out from the neckline. I looked like I should've been staked out on a stool at the fanciest hotel in Philly trying to drum up business from unsuspecting businessmen.
Shoving my glasses back onto my face, I stared at myself, every bit of me, in excruciating detail. The glasses weren’t time period appropriate, but Laura would have to deal.
Berk knocked on the door. “Do you need some help?”
“No,” I shouted way too loud. They’d probably heard me out by the stables. Collecting my clothes, I clutched them against my chest. My fingers shook as I undid the latch to the bathroom. He was going to laugh at how ridiculous I looked. I could picture it now, Berk rolling on the floor with tears of laughter in his eyes.
The door opened and I stepped back into the room with my clothes cradled in my arms.
I looked up at him and my eyes widened. Had they taken his measurements before we got here? His outfit looked fantastic.
He struggled with the buttons of the white vest. The material of his dress shirt bunched as he pushed at the buttons. The pants hugged his trim hips and stellar ass.
“I can get into my uniform in six minutes flat. These buttons are bullshit.”
Pinning my clothes to my chest with my chin, I knocked his hands away and slid them through the navy silk-lined arm holes. “So hard,” I teased.
“It’s not my fault.” He pulled the bottom of his vest down, straightening it.
I spun away, keeping my clothes tight against my chest, aware of how close he’d come to getting an eyeful of me, not that I’d have a choice unless I walked around with my clothes against my chest for the rest of the night.
“I’m going to make us a drink. Top shelf booze doesn’t deserve to be all alone at times like these.” He cradled the bottles, swaying them back and forth like a doting parent slash total lunatic. Bottles and glasses clinked together.
I crouched to pick up one of my dropped socks. Gathering everything, I turned to dump it onto the bed. Maybe things would be okay. He wasn’t freaking out and I wasn’t freaking out, so far so good. I could wear this outside of the room.
“Might as well start now.” I turned to him and our gazes collided.
He coughed into the glass he had up to his mouth. Wheezing and spraying his drink all over the place, his eyes got anime character wide before he barked out a, “Holy shit.”
11
Berk
If you were here with me now, I’d wrap my thighs around your face and let you eat me until I came on your tongue, screaming your name.
Holy shit! The soda water burned my lungs and I coughed, bent over at the waist. There was no saving this and playing it off cool. Water dribbled down onto my pristine white and insanely expensive shirt. At least I hadn’t opened one of the bottles of wine sitting on the mini-bar.
Jules stared at me, frozen in her crouch with some of her clothes bunched up in her hands like a deer in the middle of the road with a Mack truck barreling toward her.
I liked Jules. I’d always liked Jules. She’s funny and sometimes she lets a little bit of her potty mouth slip out between her unique personality of the next Martha Stewart and a cute anime character. She’s not flashy, except when it comes to everything that comes out of her oven.
I’d looked at her so many times and liked exactly what I saw. But I didn’t let my thoughts stray to her in any way other than as a friend too often, mainly because she’s Elle’s best friend and if I went near her with anything other than my friendzone lanyard hanging around my neck, Nix would’ve mailed my balls back to me and made me pay for the shipping.
She was wiped off the radar before I met her with a glare from Nix and a promise of retribution if I screwed up what he had with Elle in any way, shape, or form, but that’s not to say I didn’t appreciate Jules’ quiet beauty. The kind you found yourself sneaking a glance of when she smiled because it was so completely pure and unworried about being anything other than real.
Or the times I’d sit at her kitchen table and talk for hours about our favorite comic book movie. I’d chalked it up to the fact that I hadn’t spent much time around many women who didn’t want anything from me. Not status, or a false idea that I had cash to splash around, or any number of reasons. With Jules, I could just be and so could she. It gave me that warm feeling that drew me to her time and time again, but I knew going in it couldn’t go further.
I’d never really been just friends with a girl before, and I liked it.
She was kind and I’d never heard her talk shit about anyone or be anything other than awesome, which is why the fucking rack on her showcased with a plummeting, glittering ‘look at me sign’ that was that dress made me want to bite my knuckle and run around the room like a damn animal.
Who in the hell knew she was hiding all that under those clothes? I was five seconds away from going full wolf-whistle-in-a-nightclub cartoon parody over here. There were those movies where the girl with the glasses gets the makeover and all the sudden everyone looks at her differently. It was like that, except she was still wearing the glasses and was way hotter than any movie star because she was real and two strides away from me.
“Jesus, Jules.” I leaned in, trying to keep the need to lick her out of my voice. This was straight up not fair. She was sweet as hell and now I wanted a taste.
Her face paled. “I know,” she whispered and tried to tug the edges of her dress’s neckline together. She might as well have been trying to fill the Grand Canyon with a bucket. “It’s too small. I need to find Laura and tell her it’s not going to work.” Ducking her head, she tried to run away. “It looks terrible.”
I rushed after her and caught her elbow. My fingers wrapping around the soft fabric protecting her smooth skin from my touch, an electric spark licking its way up my arm.
“You don’t need to change.” I squeezed my lips together, so I didn’t bite my bottom one. “You caught me off guard. The dress looks great on you. I just never realized you were hiding those.” I nodded toward the cleavage Valhalla peeking out from under her hands.
She punched my arm. “You’re not exactly helping on the keep-Jules-from-feeling-self-conscious-and-wanting-to-run-away front.”
“If there’s anyone who should feel self-conscious, it’s all those other chicks who’ve got absolutely nothing on you in the breast department. KFC is going to burst in here and haul you away.”
She snort-laughed and shook her head in disapproval, but her eyes were no longer deer-in-headlights scared. “I just… I can’t wear this in public. Maybe at the venue for a bit, but…”
“If you’re still feeling weird about it, I’ve got something you can put on.” I crouched down and rummaged through my bag. It was never too far from me and always ready to go at a moment’s notice. Old habits, die hard, right? I pushed a
few things aside and spotted the light grey material. Tugging it out, I stood and handed it over to Jules.
“You carry a sweater in your bag?” Half statement, half question.
“You never know when you might need one.”
She took it from my hands with a grateful nod and slipped it on. A little warmth glowed in my chest. I liked having that for her and I sure as hell liked seeing her in it, even though she was hiding the best rack in three counties under it right now. I’d have to commit it to memory.
“You’re saving me from wearing a bathrobe over this getup.” Her smile flicked a different switch inside me. One that sent the blood rushing to another part of my anatomy it had no business rushing to as I imagined her in nothing but a robe. The fluffy fabric against her skin. A switch had been flicked and I didn’t know how to unflick it.
Then came the guilt. I hadn’t really checked anyone out since TLG and I started writing. Once the letters kept coming and I let her in on some of the fears and insecurities I was dealing with when it came to going pro, it had kind of felt like cheating, just like it did when I couldn’t keep my eyes off Jules.
What was I thinking? TLG didn’t want to talk to me anymore. She was done with me, whatever it was I’d thought we were building was an illusion. After all this time, I should be better prepared for people dipping out of my life like it’s nothing.
Mom. Gone. Dad. Locked up for a long time. Foster families who’d pushed me aside. At this point there was only one person in my life who’d always been there and she was flaky at best. No, I didn’t need to add anyone new to the Berk Sucks, Let’s Stay Far, Far Away Club. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t admire the view.
* * *
Jules led me through some of the dances and I tried my best not to crush her feet.
“You’re getting better.” She winced as I caught the tip of her toes.
“I’ll get you a drink to numb the pain.” Leaving Jules, I walked to the bar, passing by guys who eyed me when they saw their girlfriends’ and wives’ heads turn. It’s not my fault I’m half a head bigger and fifty pounds heavier than most guys here.