O5—Junior
As the lights flickered on, I detangled myself from Duke, whose arms had somehow wrapped around me during the movie. “The Princess and the Frog was much better,” I stated, tossing the cover off of me and grabbing another candy bar.
He took the Snickers from my hand and opened it, taking a bit bite. “I disagree. I love guts, glory, and fast cars.”
“You forgot boobs. There were a lot of boobs in there, too,” I added, snatching the sole remaining Kit Kat from the huge pile and tearing into it.
“How could I ever forget the boobs?” he replied sarcastically. “You know, there are more to women than boobs.”
“Yeah, we have butt, too.”
He shot me a look, one that was slightly amused and slightly confused. “Are you always this sarcastic when you first wake up?”
“Usually I’m worse.” I grinned at him. “What can I say, Duke? You bring out the best in me.”
He rolled his eyes at me, turning over so that he was laying on his back. “If that’s the best, then I’d hate to see the worst, Junior.”
My smile grew, and I continued to munch on me Kit Kate. Duke wasn’t the Homeboy I thought he was. He had actually displayed characteristics other than being a play-boy that flirted his way to the top of everything. He was more than that great player with the competitive streak. Go figure. Duke was kind of, and I meant this in the slightest amount possible, growing on me. He wasn’t as bad as I thought he was. “Babe, if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure don’t deserve me at my best,” I quoted.
“Calm down, Marilyn Monroe.”
I giggled, tossing my paper into the bag filled with empty candies that we had accumulated. My stomach was very much full, and I was definitely on my way to a sugar high.
Duke started to say something, but his phone buzzed. He sighed, answered a text, and looked at me. “So, you wanna go to Liam’s party?”
With those eyes looking at me coupled with that full-lipped smile, I couldn’t say no.
*
“HOW WAS THE MOVIE?” Rena yelled over the loud music, grabbing my hands and spinning me around in a circle. For a minute, I thought she was drunk, but then I realized she just had a happy high.
“GREAT!” I yelled back, pulling her back into me. We were salsa-dancing to One Direction, and there were no cares in the world. “Would he say he’s in L-O-V-E, girl if it was me, then I would, I would!”
She threw her head back and laughed, and we both continued to take over the dance floor. This was more like us in private. Wild, out there, uncaring. That was the main reason she was best friend—because we both loved the same music, and neither of us cared about what other people thought.
Oh, and neither one of us could actually dance.
Rena was a Lifer—a best friend you held on to for life. We had even applied for the same college, except different majors. She wanted to be a CNA. I wanted to be a psychologist. We might not end up at the same college, but we were going to. School without my best friend? Nah, that wasn’t happening. And neither was a stupid boy named Duke going to take up all the thoughts in my mind so I couldn’t chill with my best friend.
Suddenly Chris appeared, standing behind Rena. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at him, but still danced with me. “One minute,” I saw her mouth.
He looked a bit confused at being dismissed. I laughed, letting go of her hands. “Enjoy yourself…. But not too much.” I winked.
Her face turned red, and she turned back to Chris.
I exited the mass of bodies surrounding me and headed into the kitchen. I found a closed bottle of water and took a sip. Liam’s house was huge, bigger than the Homeboys even, but he didn’t play good music. One Direction amongst this crowd wasn’t the way to gain popularity—a reason he would never be a Homeboy. The only reason people came was because he had good alcohol. Liam could never be a Homeboy—he had the arrogance, but not the confidence. See, Homeboys had a swagger. A swagger that said they were great for them, but they never said it out loud. Their voice, their word choice, their walk—everything about a Homeboy said just how amazing they were. They never had to out-right say it themselves. Liam, on the other hand, would tell anybody who would listen that he was the “best ever at this or this” and he “had insane amounts of money at his disposal” or he “fucked three bitches last night….at once.” Nobody really cared about that except the money-hungry Leftover girls the Homeboys had dismissed.
I unscrewed the water and took a long gulp. It was hot outside, and it was definitely hot inside. I was all but smothering in my sweatpants. I sat down my water bottle in front of me—Mama always warned me never to sit it somewhere I couldn’t see and then come back for it—and rolled up my pants legs.
Something hit me on the butt.
I sprung up, hand raised, to hit whichever drunken butt had decided it was okay to slap my ass. I turned into the smiling face of Liam. His spiky blonde hair looked a little messy, his face was spotted red, and he had a big, cheesy grin on his face. “Hey, Cori.” He was the only one who insisted on calling me my real name.
“Hey, Liam,” I snapped, grabbing my water bottle. “Is that how you great women these days, or am I just special?”
He looked me up and down, eying my shoes—Jordans that belonged to Duke that were about four inches too big. I had on six pairs of socks just to get them to fit semi-right. “Oh, you’re special. Those don’t look like your shoes,” he remarked casually.
“They’re not.” I crossed my arms, wondering what exactly he wanted. Liam and I rarely talked. Only when he wanted answers or help in calculus. Not because we were such great friends. I was instantly suspicious—and I felt a bit angry. First he slaps my butt, and then he tries to have a normal conversation? Who does that?
He nodded. “I figured. Duke’s?”
“I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
“You’re right. But, I see you’ve been getting closer with the Homeboys, you and Rena.” It was a statement, not a question. I didn’t answer him, wondering what he wanted. He continued. “You were wearing Duke’s jersey, you were seen talking to his parents…. Am I right?”
“Could be or couldn’t be. You weren’t at the game. You don’t know.” Liam never came to football games. All the gossip he received was from the Leftovers, so I knew nothing good could come from this conversation.
He smirked. “I have my ways, baby.”
I let the ‘baby’ slide. I was much more interested in his reasoning for talking to me. “Are you here to annoy me? Or do you want to know somethin’ important, Liam? Because I need to get back to my friends.”
“You mean the Homeboys.”
“Same difference.”
His smirk became more pronounced. “Word has it, Cori, the only reason Duke is keepin’ you so close is because you’re pregnant for him.”
My mouth dropped. Me? Pregnant for Duke? How could I, a virgin, be pregnant for Duke? One, I was upset people were having these thoughts that I slept around. And, two, I thought my standards were better than Duke of all people!
“Well, is it true?” he demanded. “It’s the only reason Duke would keep you around.”
I was well aware of the group of about eight people that had settled around in the kitchen “getting drinks.” One girl had beer from the keg overflowing onto her hands from watching me so hard. Instead, I waited until Duke reached the kitchen a second or two later and replied, breezily, “Yo, Duke, did you know I’m pregnant for you?”
He stopped in his tracks, looking confused. “Real talk? Why you didn’t tell me I hit that?”
I shrugged. “Hell, I didn’t even know.”
“Hm. That’s interesting. How in the hell does everybody else know that we had sex, but we don’t even recall having sex?”
I smiled at Liam. “And there’s your answer, Liam.”
Liam looked dumbfounded. “Then why the hell you chose her? She’s not overly pretty—“
“Thanks, asshole,” I interrupted, a little bit offended. I wasn’t overly pretty? What did that mean?
He went on, though, unbothered by my interruption. “She can’t keep up a good conversation, and she doesn’t have a sexy body—“
“Well, damn, Liam, lay on the compliments, why don’t you?”
Duke smiled at me, but he quickly dropped the smile for a menacing frown. “See, Liam, this is why you will never be a Homeboy. You don’t disrespect women like that. Now, if I catch you looking at Junior, I will beat the shit out of you, Liam. Got it?”
He nodded, white as a ghost.
“And another thing—who I choose, what I do, it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with you unless I specifically say your name. Let’s go, Junior, this party is lame as fuck.”
I trailed after him, battling a smile. Liam looked horrified as the majority of the people in the kitchen started to say, “yeah, it’s getting pretty lame. I’d rather be at home sleeping” and “who even plays One Direction at a party? They’re so, junior high.”
Duke grabbed my hand, pulling behind me as he parted the crowd. We left through Liam’s doors and by the parked cars, where Chris was leaning against Rena. She looked very, very giggly with her cheeks red. And he looked like he was in complete control. Good.
“Chris,” I called sweetly, attracting his attention, “if you so much as hurt my friend, I won’t hesitate to kill you. I’m actually legally diagnosed with a mental disorder, so I’ll spend two or three years in a psychiatric hospital, and then I’ll be out again.” My smile was as creepy as the look I gave him.
He coughed. “Got it.” He turned to duke. “You leavin’?”
Duke nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to take Junior home, and then get some sleep.”
They gave each other those bro nods, and Duke opened the car door for me. I got in and kicked off his shoes, shoving my feet back into my comfortable, nicely worn slippers.
“Do you really have a mental disorder?” He sounded worried as he pulled out the driveway.
I giggled. “Of course not. Then again, I am friends with you, so maybe somethin’ is wrong with me.” I buckled up, yawning. It was three in the morning, and I was tired. I just wanted to curl up in my bed and have sweet dreams. And, then, tomorrow, Rena and I would go eat somewhere for lunch and talk about our nights.
His lips turned down into a mock-frown. “You know, you’re starting to hurt my feelings, Junior. You talk like I’m such a bad person.”
“You are,” I replied on a yawn. “You just tore into Liam.”
“Because he dissed you. I don’t play that. Respect women if you don’t do anything else in your life.” He stopped at the stop sign to let some cars go, looking at me. “You’re pretty cute when you’re sleepy.”
“I’m always cute.”
He sighed. “Women these days can’t take a damn compliment. Just say ‘thank you’ and appreciate it.”
“Sorry.” I smirked at him. “Thank you and appreciate it, Duke.”
He chuckled as he took off. “You’re not what I expected. I would’ve thought you would be more reserved, more stuck-up. Less… funny.”
“You think I’m funny?”
“I think you’re a damn mess, Junior. That’s what I think.” He flashed me a playful grin, though. My heart did this funny little motion that made me think I was beginning to crush on Duke… or that I had gas. It was probably gas, honestly, from all those sweets. “I also think you’re pretty cute, too.”
I gave him a look he couldn’t see. “What do you mean by ‘pretty cute?’ Either I’m completely cute, or not cute at all, Duke.” I grinned. “Anywho, a woman of my status is deservin’ of a much, much better compliment than cute. Puppies are cute, babies are cute, flowers are—“
“Fine,” he interrupted, a smile tugging the corners of his mouth. “You’re beautiful, Junior. Is that okay with you?”
“Eh. It’s good for now. You’ll have to come up with a special compliment, though, Duke-ster.”
“Don’t ever call me that again.”
“Whatever you say, Dukey-boy.”
“Please. Stop.”
“That’s funny because most guys beg me to continue.”
He encountered a red light and was silent. I could see the smile battling to cross his features. It was such a cute look on his face—wolfish and playful all at the same time. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss his nose or pat his head. “You’re a virgin; I was under the impression guys didn’t beg you at all.”
I laughed. “Details. Gotta look at the big picture.”
“I’d rather look at boobs, honestly.” He winked and pulled off as the light turned green.
“Pig.”
“I’m only a man, sweetheart.”
I frowned. Sweetheart. That word sent equals amount of creeped-out and unease through me. It was completely unexplainable, but I hated being called that. “If you call me ‘sweetheart’ again, I’m not responsible for my actions. I hate it.” I gave a delicate shudder.
He gave me a quizzical look as he turned down my street. “Not gonna bother asking why. Instead, I’m going to go home and sleep on a special nickname just for you.”
Just for me? I would’ve squealed had any guy but Duke said that to me. Instead, I filed my excitement to the back of my head for another guy. Duke was just playing me. After whoever won or lost, there would be no more fun times like this.
The thought saddened me.
“That oughta be good,” I remarked as he pulled up into my front yard. “Later, Duke.”
His hand grabbed my shoulder, holding me down for a second. “This is where we kiss, Junior.”
A little thrill went through me. I played it off with a coy smile, though. “Actually, Duke, I don’t kiss on the first date.” I paused. “At least, not on the lips.” I reached over and kissed him on the cheek.
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll let you slide this time, beautiful.” He winked at me before pulling out his phone. “But you’re not leaving without me having your number.”
My face turned red while I typed out my number, acting nonchalant about the whole thing. But he was just doing this to get to me. It was a mind trick.
One that was working, too.
“Alright. Good night, Duke.”
He let me out, watching me. “Good night, Junior.”
He didn’t leave until I had closed the door to my house behind me.
*
I jogged my way back into my house just as Rena pulled up in her old, beat-up Honda Civic we had humorlessly named “Old Faithful.” It clunked itself into a stop in my driveway. I yanked out my earphones and squirted some water into my mouth in one, easy motion. I had been running in the mornings every weekend for the past three months. It was to get in shape, half-way, and the other half was because my parents told me I was too lazy to do it. Even after getting in late last night, I still managed to drag my tired self out of bed for nine to do my two mile run. I paused the music on my phone and it tucked it back into my pocket.
Duke hadn’t called yet, and I was getting slightly aggravated. But then I remembered The Game. Ignore them, and they’ll come flocking to you when you do give them attention. Well. He wasn’t about to get my attention for sure. Not a Homeboy like himself.
But, still, he could’ve shot me a “good night” text or a “hey, did you have fun last night” text.
Rena jumped out of her car and slammed the door. Old Faithful seemed to rattle.
I grinned. “One day, that girl is just gonna poof,” I made a small, exploding motion with my hands.
“God, I hope so,” she replied. “Where’s Daddy?”
Rena was born to a single, teenage mother. She didn’t know her father when she was little, and she didn’t know him now. Her mother worked hard to make sure whoever the guy was didn’t need to be in the picture. So when she attached to my daddy, I didn’t mind one single bit. And Daddy doted on kids. He loved her like he loved me. Plus, being an only child, I always wanted a big sister. So what if Rena was only four days older? She was still older. “Work.”
“Oh.” Her phone buzzed and her face little up as she glanced down at it. A little smile quirked the corners of her mouth, and she giggled. “Chris is hilarious!” She turned to go into the house and I followed. “We have to have a gossip fest!”
I nodded. “Oh we do. Over breakfast, perhaps?”
She grinned. “Only if we add bacon.”
“When don’t I?” I closed the door behind me and headed towards my bedroom. “Give me ten minutes.”
I heard the TV turn on the living room and I jumped in to the shower, washed the sweat off of me, and jumped right out. I threw on some blue jean shorts and a t-shirt before running back downstairs. Rena was already taking the food out, and the smell of bacon drifted towards my nose and made my stomach grumble. She whipped up eggs, and I heated the skillet. Toast popped out, and I scrambled us some eggs. She put cheese on the pieces of toast and flipped the bacon. There would be no gossiping until the food was done.
My phone pinged from its spot next to her. She looked over. “Duke is texting you?”
I kept my face calm although I wanted to grab my phone, text back in a hurry, and then throw myself down on my bed and squeal like a child. “Yeah,” I said nonchalantly, like he texted me all the time. Honestly, I wasn’t sure why I was getting all excited over it. It was just Duke. Nobody special.
She held the slice of cheese between her fingers, pausing. “Yeah?”
“Stop speakin’ in italics,” I joked, turning away from my phone.
She rolled her eyes before dropping the piece of cheese. “So, the hottest boy in the school—Chris excluded because I’m sort of biased—who also happens to be a Homeboy texts you, and the best you can come up with is yeah?”
I nodded. “No big deal. I mean, Chris texts you.”
“Yeah, but we don’t even like each other.” She took the eggs from me and dished them on the pieces of toast.
I just gave her a look before adding the bacon the sides. She carried our plates to my room as I cut off the stove and dumped our dirty dishes into the sink to clean after she left. I closed my door behind me to gossip just in case we woke Mama up. She had gotten home around six this morning after working a late shift at the hospital.
I crossed my legs on my bed, sitting in front of her. “So, you and Chris don’t like each other?”
She shook her head. “Noooo. We just have some hormone stuff going on. That’s all.” But her blush did nothing to concur with her words.
I snorted. “Yeah, and I’m in love with Duke,” I replied sarcastically.
“I don’ see why you wouldn’t be. He looks at you like you’re something to eat.” She took a bite out of her sandwich. “I mean, at the party, when he was holding your hand or whatever, and when you two were dancing, y’all looked like a real, true couple.”
I frowned. That wasn’t what I wanted.
“And,” she continued, “you met his parents. Parents are a big deal.”
Yeah, I knew that. And it puzzled me. I couldn’t figure out his motive for meeting his parents, but I knew it had something to do with winning. I just didn’t know what. “He knows about my dad,” I said, off-handedly. The subject still made me uncomfortable. My real dad had been in prison for the past ten years. When Mom was finishing getting her nursing’s license, my family was struggling to make ends meet. Dad got busted selling drugs. Now, I had Daddy, a man that had come into my life when I was seven and spoiled me endlessly. I visited my real dad every Sunday in October for the Angola Rodeo, and then I visited him every other month out of the year. Neither one of my parents—that is, my step-dad and my mom—wanted me to, but they both agreed that it would beneficial for me. I missed him. And I hadn’t lied when I said he was my rock—he was. He was the strongest man I knew.
Her eyes widened. She choked on the piece of bacon she had been in the middle of swallowing as she cried, “You told him?!”
I could see where she was coming from. It had taken me three years to tell her Daddy wasn’t my real dad. And I only told her once she found a picture of me and Dad when I was younger and realized there were two separate men. I hadn’t even meant to tell Duke, but it had kind of slipped out. Talking about Dad made me emotional. “Yes. I didn’t mean to, though.” I also hadn’t texted Duke back yet. I picked up my phone, and saw the number. The message read hey, this is Duke. I grinned. Hey, this is Junior, I texted back.
She tsked. “’I don’t like Duke’, she says, but that smile on your face is disagreeing some kind of ways fierce. I can’t believe you told Duke. What if he tells somebody?”
I wasn’t sure why, but I knew he wouldn’t tell. “I dunno. I’ll deal with it.”
“Hmph.”
I narrowed my eyes. That ‘hmph’ meant she wasn’t done talking, but she wouldn’t say anything more. “Got somethin’ to say, say it.”
She shrugged. “Nope. Not a single word. I’ll let you and Duke handle this… situation. You two will start off playing this game, but, I give it two months, tops, before you’re really in love with each other. If you’re not already.”
“You can’t fall in love in a week.”
“Honey, you can fall in love in six minutes.” She grabbed a piece of bacon off my plate. “So, tell me how this movie night went.”
I recounted the events to her, not leaving a specific detail out. I could still feel him touching me on my arm, or his shoulder against my shoulder as we watched The Princess and the Frog. Oh, and his little cry of outrage when Ray died.
“Did you kiss?”
“On the cheek.”
“Did he kiss you or—“
“I kissed him on the cheek.” I paused, wrinkling my brow. “But he asked for the kiss, if that means anything.”
“Hmph. Don’t like each other my left butt cheek.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Whatever. So, did you know I was pregnant for Duke, according to Liam and some rumors?”
She looked slightly surprised. “Wouldn’t surprise me with all that sexual tension going on between the two of you. You’re bound to let your emotions out some kind of way.”
Sex with Duke? No thank you. I didn’t need him to break my heart. Or, at least, try. He wasn’t about to get to me that way. “Sexual tension, that’s what you call it. We argue all the time.”
“Because you can’t go at it like wild rabbits. Duh.” She finished off her sandwich and placed the plate on my night stand before laying out.
I coughed, chewing into my sandwich as I tried to formulate a correct response. She just wasn’t understand that there was no way in this planet I wanted to “go at” Duke like a “wild rabbit.” I actually wanted to run far, far, far away from Duke before I could start to like him or something. That would be very, very bad, and not just because he would win but because I didn’t want to get caught up with a guy like him. This was a stupid idea from the beginning. Who played with a Homeboy? There was no way I could come out of this unscathed.
“Exactly like wild rabbits,” I muttered after I swallowed. I looked down at my phone and lifted it up. Duke. I unlocked it and read. So, I’ve been thinking of a nickname for you. Something only I can call you. My heart did this funny little thing, but I pushed it away. It was probably just the food struggling to go down. Really? Should I be scared? I texted back.
“What’d he say? Cori, I will beat you up if you don’t tell me!”
I sat my phone down, waving her comment away. “Nothin’. Just that he was thinking of a nickname for me, only something he could call me.” My voice was nonchalant, but my stomach was doing this weird twisty thing, and I just kind of wanted to pat it and be like, No, don’t do that, this is Duke, but I figured why fight it? It had been about three or four months since I had last been kissed, and even longer since I’d had an actual boyfriend. Of course I was bound to feel some type of way.
“Hmph.”
I laughed. “Do that again, and I’ll beat you up, Lorena.”
She grinned back at me.
“So, how are you and Chris doing? Released any of that emotion yet?” I could see by the smile that crossed her face, and the way her eyes lit up, that she had a crush on Chris, no matter what her words were. I didn’t feel all that bad about it. Chris was a Homeboy, and he was known for how he left girls in tears, but everybody had been commenting on Chris’s behavior with Rena. Even Duke had mentioned something about how Chris smiled more. So maybe he genuinely liked Rena. I hoped so. My threat was not empty. He had better not hurt my best friend.
She coughed, face red. “No. And we don’t plan on it.” Both of our phones buzzed. We gave each other looks and laughed. “Okay, we have one minute to answer it. Then, phones up.”
I snatched my phone from its position on the bed, unlocked it, and scanned through my messages with obvious delight. Nah, babe. I promise, it’ll be fitting ;) That wink face worried me to no extent. Nothing good ever came out of a wink face. If you say so. No smiley faces.
As our minute came to a close, we tossed our phones on the bean bag chair across my room. There. Now we could have a nice, undistracted girl-talk.
“Well,” Rena muttered, glancing at her phone regretfully, “that’s probably the hardest thing I’ve done in a week.”
I smirked. “That’s because Chris doesn’t let you do hard things.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Please. He’s just being nice. Anyway, that’s how I think it should be—guys should do things for girls out the kindness of their hearts. You’re just jealous Duke doesn’t carry your books.”
He had tried. But I had calmly stated to him that I could handle it myself. He did insist on holding my backpack, holding doors open for me, and getting my lunch food, though, and paying. He tried to wave it off as being “rich”, but I had just as much money as he did. Daddy was loaded. Dad wasn’t too bad off himself before he went to jail.
“Let’s not talk about that beast. I want to hear about Chris.”
I shifted on my bed until I was laying on my stomach next to her. I could hear our phones vibrating and pinging across the room, and I wanted to see what Duke had to say so badly, but I resisted the urge. This was Girl Time. Not Girl-with-Occasional-Boy-Interruption-Time.
Rena talked, pouring on about Chris. I listened intently, answered her questions, and laughed with her. I was jealous somewhat. Chris was in it because he liked her. Duke and I were… competitors. Did I really want to date Duke? No. But I did want a guy to truly like me. And now just a flirt buddy interested in “winning.”
After about an hour and a half of gossiping and giggling, my mom pushed open my door. She wore her scrubs, bags under her eyes, and a curious expression. “Um, ladies, there are four handsome men out there, requesting your presence.”
Although we both knew who it was, our eyes went to my window, where we saw Dante’s truck parked in the driveway.
Twin smiles crossed our faces.
Mom laughed. “I’m jealous of you two. Have fun, sweetie.” As we passed by her, she gave us kisses on the tops of our heads like she usually did. “Oh, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She gave us stern looks.
We laughed and went to go meet the boys.
Chapter Song: #GetItRight--Miley Cyrus