Troublemaker

by Kayley Loring

  And I’m going to make this beautiful bubble really dirty.

  I add a few sext ideas to my list and flip the notebook over as soon as I hear a knock at the door.

  “Emilia, dear? Are you still in there?”

  “Yeah, Mom. I’m just making notes. For school stuff. What’s up?”

  She fiddles with the doorknob. “Did you lock the door?”

  “Oh, is it locked?”

  “Emilia, open the door please so I don’t have to yell.”

  I slide my notebook under the pillow and straighten myself up before unlocking the door. As if my mother would somehow be able to know just from looking at me in my knitted Christmas sweater that I was composing dirty text messages to my secret boyfriend.

  I open the door to face my mother, who is wearing the same sweater, perfectly set medium waves in her hair, green velvet track pants with red reindeer slippers, and an apron that says Keep calm and have another glass of wine. She is drying her hands on a dishtowel when she frowns at me and leans in to whisper, “Brush your hair, Emilia. Brent is downstairs.”

  “What? Now?”

  “Yes. He just came over.”

  “Well, I don’t want to see him. Tell him to go away.”

  “I will do no such thing.”

  “He didn’t even text me to ask if he could come over. How does he even know I’m here?”

  “I told him.”

  “When?”

  “When I ran into him at Albertsons last week.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t know if he’d come by or not. Maybe you should change out of that sweater.”

  “Mom. I don’t want to see him. Why did you invite him in? Why would you do that?”

  “He brought a gift basket! I can’t turn him away. He’s not a vampire, Emilia. He’s your ex-boyfriend. He’s still single, and he wants to see you. Don’t make Dad wait down there with him, now. You know he’s not good at small talk.”

  “Well, neither am I.”

  “Then talk to him about important things.”

  I pull off my sweater and find a blouse to put on. “Mom. I’m not getting back together with Brent. Ever.”

  “Okay, honey,” she says. Because she’s heard it before.

  “I’m serious.”

  She nods and leaves the doorway. “I’ll make us all hot toddies!”

  “No! Do not make him a hot toddy!”

  Ugh. This is exactly the opposite of how I wanted my night to go. I get my phone from the charger and find a text from Alex. Just a “how’s it going up there” text, but it makes me happy again for one second, nonetheless. I send him a quick response, telling him I’ll be in touch with him later, and go downstairs. With my phone. Because in a way, it feels like I’m bringing Alex with me in my back pocket. But with each step I take, I feel my blood running a little colder.

  My mom was wrong. Brent is a vampire. He’s a time-sucking vampire, and I’m not going to let him suck more than ten minutes from my life tonight.

  I find him sitting on the sofa in the living room, talking to my dad about budget analysis. I know my dad asked him about his job, because that’s what he does, but my dad’s eyes are glazing over and he stands up as soon as he sees me.

  “There she is!” my dad exclaims. “I’ll go help your mother in the kitchen. Great to see you, Brent.”

  “You too, sir.” Brent stands up, watching me.

  I stop where I am, at the edge of the living room. He’s wearing the cardigan I gave him last Christmas. I guess it’s sweet of him, but I can’t believe I was twenty-six and dating a guy that I would buy cardigans for as Christmas presents. Literally anything I’d give Alex would be more interesting than that, because he’s interesting. Because I’m so much more interested in him.

  I feel almost nothing as I stand here staring at Brent. Which is depressing because it’s not right to stand in a room with a beautifully decorated Christmas tree and a person that you used to live with and to feel almost nothing. “Hello, Brent” is all I have to say.

  He doesn’t even say hello. He just crosses the room to hug me.

  “Did you see Atticus?” is what I want to know as I pat his back and then step away from him.

  “Is he here?”

  “Of course he’s here.”

  “Nobody mentioned it. Where is he?”

  “He’s probably in the kitchen. Never mind.” The fact that Atticus didn’t come out to greet him tells me so much. “So. Happy holidays.”

  “You look well. You look different. Nice, though.”

  Wow. I can’t believe I was ever even remotely attracted to this person.

  “You should have let me know that you wanted to come over.”

  “Your mother invited me to drop by. I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Surprise!” I cross my arms in front of my chest. “I’m actually in the middle of something.”

  He crosses his arms, mimicking me. “On Christmas night?”

  “Yes.”

  “How are things in LA?”

  “Things in LA are amazing, actually. Better than I’d ever imagined it could be.” Now I’m feeling things. “I didn’t know I could be so happy.” I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye and sniffle.

  I can tell immediately, from the look on his face, that Brent is misreading the tear and the sniffle.

  “Em,” he says, reaching for my arm.

  I shrug away from him.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been calling. I wasn’t sure how to deal with this.”

  “This has been dealt with. Why are you here?”

  “I wanted to tell you that I’ll be in Pasadena early next year, for a conference.”

  “Oh yeah? How exciting for Pasadena.”

  “I’d like to take you out for dinner when I’m there.”

  “I’ll be busy.”

  “You don’t even know what days I’ll be there yet.”

  “I’m always busy with schoolwork, Brent. Have you forgotten?”

  “I’ll be there on the weekend. You aren’t always busy with schoolwork on the weekend.”

  “I’m busy with other things on the weekend. Listen, it was nice to see you, Brent. Thank you for bringing my parents a gift basket, but I have to get back to something.” I start to walk away.

  “I’m also going to be meeting with someone in Pasadena about a job, Emilia,” he says, like he’s telling me that he just won a million dollars and he’s offering to give me half.

  I whip back around. “Why? Why would you do that?”

  “It’s a really good job. I thought you’d be a little happier to hear this.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  Brent appears to be genuinely confused right now. “You always wanted me to move to LA with you. Now I’m actually considering it. What is wrong with you tonight?”

  I step closer to him and lower my voice so my parents don’t hear this, but I make sure he can hear me. “I thought I wanted you to move to LA with me when we were a couple. Because I wanted to move there. Because that’s what couples do. But I am so soooooo glad you didn’t. We are not a couple anymore. I no longer care if you move there or not. I hope you have a nice life, I really do, but I am no longer a part of it. Fuck you, Brent. I don’t have anything else to say to you, but I’ve always wanted to say that to your face. So thanks for the opportunity. I’d like you to leave.”

  I go back upstairs. To my laptop. To my notes. To reach out to a man who deserves to be reached out to. A man who deserves everything. My time and my heart and my dirty texts and maybe even a sexy man-cardigan if there is such a thing.

  28

  Alex

  “Give me your kings, Mr. Ryder Vega,” my dad says, leaning across the table menacingly toward my son. With his deep, serious voice, you would think he was interrogating a drug lord—or at least playing a higher stakes card game.

  “I don’t have any! Go fish!” Ryder is delighted. He loves my dad and isn’t the least bit int
imidated by him like I was at his age.

  Antonio Vega grunts and swipes at the deck of cards in the middle of the dining table, frowning at Ryder, but there’s a twinkle in his eye. “This is not how we played cards in Spain when I was a child. When I was a child, we played Hombre. A game for men. Not this little boy go fishing. ‘Yo soy el hombre!’ we say. ‘I am the man!” He pats his chest.

  “Yo soy el hombre!” Ryder yells out. “Were you better at that than you are at Go Fish?”

  My dad sneers at him. “Take your turn, Mr. Smartypants.”

  My mother comes in from the kitchen, in her Eat it or leave it. I’m not cooking anything else apron. Which is hilarious because Sylvia Vega literally will not rest until everyone in her house is well-fed and happy. She pushes a lock of blonde hair from her pretty, round face. “Anyone want more hot cocoa, my loves? I found the good marshmallows.”

  “Yes please!” Ryder jumps up and then looks at me, trying to imitate my dad. “Give me all of your nines, Alex Vega.”

  “Go fish.”

  “What?!”

  “Let me help you in the kitchen, Mom. Play my hand.”

  “Oh no, you boys play. I’ve got my system, and you’ll just mess it up.” She winks at me. “Hot cocoa yes or no?”

  “No thank you.”

  “Yes, hot cocoa,” my dad says, turning his head to watch her go. “Get back in here and sit on my lap, woman.”

  She giggles and waves him off.

  I love how my parents are with each other. Thirty-five years of marriage, and they’re still crazy about each other in the best ways. I wanted what they had so much, but I got the wrong kind of crazy the first time around.

  And speaking of… My phone vibrates, and I know before I flip it over that it’s not Emilia, it’s Nova. She’s FaceTiming us after not being around for our calls for the past two days. She had presents delivered to Ryder, but he was a little upset that she didn’t respond to the emails I sent to her with pictures of the gifts that are waiting for her—whenever she actually gets back.

  “Is it Mom?”

  “Yeah.” I accept the video call. “Hey. We’re at my parents’ house.”

  “Hi!” she says. She looks wide awake and slightly manic. “Hi everyone! I’m soooo sorry I couldn’t call sooner—it’s been crazy the past few days.”

  I glance over at my dad, who is staring down at his cards, frowning. He was never a fan of my ex, but he doesn’t voice his opinion about her around Ryder.

  “Mom! Merry Christmas!” Ryder grabs the phone from me. “Did you see the emails Dad sent you?”

  “Hey, baby boy! I love you, I love you, I love you! Hold the phone still so I can see your face—I miss you so much.”

  Ryder takes my phone into another room, leaving me with my dad and Bing Crosby on the stereo. We both put our cards facedown on the table and lean back in our chairs. I know what’s coming.

  “He’s a good boy,” my dad says eventually.

  “Yes. He’s happy.”

  “Él seria mucho mas feliz con una mejor mujer en su vida.”

  It’s killing me that I can’t tell him about the better woman in Ryder’s life. In our lives.

  “Por supuesto, estoy trabajando en eso.” I’m working on it.

  “¿Oh sí? ¿Cuán duro estás trabajando en eso?”

  I laugh at his innuendo. How hard am I working on it?

  “I’m open for business. No quiero que Ryder sepa nada aún.” I don’t want Ryder to know yet, I tell him.

  He nods, understanding. “You seem happier too.”

  “You do seem happy, honey.” My mom comes in with two mugs of hot cocoa and places them on the table before sitting on my dad’s lap. She frowns at me. “I can hear them talking on the phone,” she says in a hushed voice. “She sounds…excited. And vague.”

  “Uh-oh. That’s never a good combination.”

  “You know what is a good combination?” my dad asks, arms around my mother’s waist and squeezing. “A nice lady who’s a good girl in every room of the house except the bedroom.”

  My mother blushes and slaps my dad on the arm. “I have no idea who he’s talking about,” she says to me.

  I know a good girl just like that…

  Ryder walks back in with the phone. His shoulders are slumping a little, but he doesn’t look upset. “Mom says ‘Merry Christmas’ to everyone. She had to go to a photo shoot.”

  “You have a good talk with her, buddy?”

  “Yeah. She’s busy. I think there was someone in her room, so she couldn’t talk a lot. Hey—you didn’t peek at my cards, did you?!”

  “The Man doesn’t have to cheat to win,” my dad says.

  “Well, maybe you should try cheating, because you never win at this game,” Ryder quips. He takes his seat and passes the phone back to me, whispering, “There’s a text message for you. From Miss Stiles.”

  Shit. I need to change her name in my contacts.

  “I didn’t read it,” he says in a way that tells me he’ll be a badass poker player once he grows out of Go Fish.

  “Oh yeah? Probably following up about the holiday show.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I hold my phone under the table and casually change “Emilia Stiles” to “ES” in my contacts. Although Ryder will still figure it out. Not that I don’t trust him to keep a secret.

  “It’s your turn, Dad.”

  “Do you have any aces?” I ask my father.

  He frowns at me and hands over the ace of spades.

  “Gracias. How about a two?”

  “Go fish yourself.”

  While my dad and son take their rounds, I glance down at my phone and read Emilia’s text.

  ES: Let me know when everyone else is asleep and you’re alone in a room with some privacy. We’re going to have a text conversation. And then we are both going to delete the entire conversation from our phones once we’re done.

  ME: I’m on board with this. Give me about an hour.

  ME: Just tell me now if there will be pictures involved. I can have Ryder draw something real quick before he goes to bed.

  ES: Not funny, Vega.

  ES: And no dicks.

  ES: No pics.

  ES: Stupid phone.

  ME: How many cups of mulled wine have you had tonight?

  ES: One hour, Mr. Vega. It’s a date.

  “That’s your last hot cocoa for the night, pal,” I tell Ryder. “Bed in half an hour.”

  “What?! But it’s Christmas.”

  “Exactly. You stayed up late last night.”

  “No fair.”

  You think that’s not fair? Try playing cards with your family when you could be sexting with a beautiful woman.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ALEX: Family in bed. Door closed. It’s on.

  EMILIA: My clothes aren’t.

  EMILIA: They aren’t on.

  EMILIA: I’m naked.

  ALEX: Jumping right in, huh? I like it.

  EMILIA: Okay I lied. I’m not naked yet.

  ALEX: It’s okay to lie a little while sexting, Miss Stiles.

  EMILIA: I am lying. Down. On the bed.

  EMILIA: Is this hot? Am I doing this right?

  ALEX: Yeah, you look really hot when you’re lying down. I like it when you lie in bed and touch yourself.

  EMILIA: Like this? When I unbutton my blouse and stick my hand inside my bra and massage my boob? I mean my tit? While I reach down into my panties with my other hand?

  ALEX: Yeah, like that. I’m already so hard.

  EMILIA: Are you really or are you lying a little?

  ALEX: I really am and I’m about to take off my pants.

  EMILIA: Which pants are you wearing?

  ALEX: Jeans.

  EMILIA: Your ripped jeans?

  ALEX: Black. Not ripped.

  EMILIA: I wish I could unzip them and get my hand in there.

  ALEX: Me too. What’s going on in those panties?

  EMIL
IA: They’re soaking wet, Alex. I’m wet all the time, to be honest. I’ve never been so turned on in my life. Just thinking about you. It’s like I wasn’t fully operational until I met you. And now all my lady parts are functioning at full power.

  EMILIA: Wait! Not lady parts. My nipples and clit. My cunt. Wait not that.

  ALEX: You can say cunt. I fucking love your pretty cunt, Emilia.

  EMILIA: Pussy. Oh God.

  ALEX: Your pussy is beautiful and delicious. I crave it all the time.

  EMILIA: I can’t!

  EMILIA: I miss your cock.

  ALEX: My cock misses you. What are you gonna do to it when you’re back?

  EMILIA: Ew I’m not saying that Franklin that’s gross!

  ALEX: Um…

  EMILIA: Oh shit.

  ALEX: Please tell me you aren’t three-way sexting with me and your roommate.

  EMILIA:

  EMILIA: I’m so sorry Alex. I suck at this. I was asking Franklin for tits.

  EMILIA: Tips! Shit! I was asking him for tips on what to write because I’m too dorky to do this. I’m sorry. I wanted to do something sexy for you.