We get back to Heather’s apartment in record time. I must have been speeding. Heather crawls out and rubs her butt against the outside of the backseat window for Colleen’s amusement. Both girls burst into giggles. I coax Colleen out of her seat after promising her that I’ll let her rub my stomach for good luck. She’s so weird.
“You’re my pretty boy!” Colleen shouts making me take a step back. Heather sides up to her and they link arms.
“He is pretty!” Heather yells, grinning. I shake my head and do my best to wrangle them into the building and up the stairs. I can’t believe Chief Frasier is making me deal with her. She’s his daughter, shouldn’t this be his responsibility? Chief Frasier’s words play in my head again and again. She’s your girl, Bradley. Always has been.
I wish.
Not even two minutes after I get the drunken duo into the apartment do they start begging for food. I look through Heather’s cupboards, going so far as to offer to make them omelets. But they don’t want any of it. Heather mentions Taco Bell. I groan. Taco Bell gives them both gas. I definitely won’t be getting laid if I feed Heather that crap. But she begs and pleads and I feel my resolve weaken. And then, to seal the nail in the coffin, Colleen pouts and says “please.”
So I leave them there on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms and cheering me on as their hero. It’s ridiculous and yet so fucking normal. Back in middle school girls started to notice me. My voice was changing and I shot up above six feet by eighth grade. Every girl that I had tried to befriend had somehow become close friends with Colleen, too. Not that I opposed her possessiveness, but being so close to having her was torture. She continued to wedge herself between me and any of the chicks who were interested in me right up until I met Heather. And now I realize that she did it again. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.
Heather and I have been together for about thirteen months now, according to Colleen. She’s counting, it seems. Having been friends with her first, Colleen would constantly talk Heather up to me. I ignored her, but then, I met Heather. Standing just a few inches taller than Colleen, with her skin slightly darker and her green eyes dulled in comparison; Heather still intrigued me. She and Colleen share these inside jokes and secrets and neither one will let me in. I don’t know which one I’m more jealous of.
I hit the steering wheel in frustration. The line at Taco Bell is just ridiculous. This whole situation is ridiculous, but this line is pissing me off. I count to one hundred and calm myself. Once I relax, the line moves smoothly and I order a variety of food. If I’m not getting laid at least I can eat well.
On the drive back, I roll down my window because fast food always causes a stink in enclosed spaces. The fresh air soothes my frazzled nerves. I’m not looking forward to having to put them to bed after they make themselves sick on processed cheese and meat mix. I circle the block and find a spot around the corner from the building entrance and trudge up to Heather’s apartment with the bag of stink.
Everything is silent inside so I try to be as quiet as I can, hoping they’ve fallen asleep. I set the Taco Bell bag on the kitchen counter and creep toward Heather’s bedroom at the end of the hall. The door is opened part way and all of the lights are off in the apartment, but I hear heavy breathing. When I look through the door, my entire world feels as though it ends.
Colleen is sprawled out on Heather’s bed on her back. Her breasts are unclothed and on display, bouncing before me. I’m momentarily frozen by their unexpected presence in my line of sight. She moans loudly, her eyes closed tight. I let my eyes travel down her body only to find Heather naked on the bed, with her hands exploring all of Colleen’s naked flesh.
My stomach lurches into my throat. I can barely breathe. Colleen is always between me and everyone else. Always. She’s always there, taunting me with what I can’t have. I want to be the one with my hands on her. I want to be the one making her clench around me, making her moan. I want it to be my hands, running up and down her soft flesh, worshiping her body.
Heather stretches up and pinches Colleen’s nipple, making her moan louder. I’m disgusted by the display before me, but I can’t move. Heather moves up further, blocking my view of Colleen’s face. I can’t see their faces, but they’re kissing. The betrayal is indescribable. I’m upset with Heather, but I’m livid with Colleen. She denies me at every turn but freely gives herself to Heather. I never saw this coming.
All the rage within me flies out in a moment that I can’t take back. I throw my fist into the door. And again. And again. It splinters beneath my hand and soon, there’s nothing but bits of wood dangling from atop the gaping hole I’ve thrown my fist through. In the moonlight from the window I can see the blood on the door, on my fist and arm, and dripping to the carpet.