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Rebel(18)

By:Kim Linwood


Gavin drops into a deck chair and sets his drink on the table next to it. The sun set a while ago, and the only light is what streams out from our room, so from my angle he’s mostly hidden in darkness.

“You’re being unusually quiet. I haven’t heard a crude comment in minutes.” I sit in the chair across the table from him.

“I dunno. Thinking about this marriage shit.”

“If I’m not letting you fuck me, I’m sure as hell not letting you marry me.”

He laughs. “We’ll see about that. What about you?”

“What about me?” I have lots of feelings about the marriage, most of which I don’t intend to share with him.

“What do you think of this whole marriage thing? Your mom’s getting hitched to a multimillionaire, if not billionaire. I lost track of how much money he makes a long time ago. That’s got to be a little weird for a girl... um... in your situation.” He trails off.

Ouch, direct hit. “In my situation? And what situation is that exactly?” My eyes shoot daggers at his outline.

“Well, you know... I mean, I guess you’re not homeless exactly, but now you’re suddenly heading into super rich territory. What do you think you’ll get out of it?” He takes a sip. “College money? Fancy clothes? A car?”

That is so far beyond insulting, words almost fail me. “Screw you, Gavin. I can work for my own damn things, if that’s what you’re so worried about. I’ve got a free ride to Stanford.”

“Fuck, should’ve known. You’re smart and sexy. What are you going for?” His question sounds like an inmate’s. What are you in for?

“Pre-med. I even have a lot of the first year requirements done early.”

He laughs, a short bark. “No wonder you’re still a fucking virgin.”

I consider denying it, but what would be the point? I get up, taking my water and heading for the door when he stops me.

“Wait. I’m just saying, you’d had to have worked real hard for that. Me? I tried business, but dropped out after a few months. I didn’t have time for that shit.”

I stop in the door, insulted that he thinks education is ‘that shit’, and annoyed that he has enough money for it not to matter. “Am I supposed to be surprised that a thug like you never graduated college? Hell, I’m surprised you graduated high school.” The temperature’s dropping as the ship moves further from land, but nowhere near as fast as it does in the space between the two of us.

“Loosen up and enjoy it while you can is my advice. It’s not going to fucking last, anyway.” He huffs, looking back out over the water.

“What’s not going to last?”

“Their marriage. You think this is the first time?” He drains the last of the whiskey. “This is Dad’s fourth marriage, plus a couple of false starts that didn’t even get that far. He’s a hard man to live with, especially when you’re only marrying him for his money.”

I’m halfway in, but I storm back out to stand over him. “Are you calling my mom a gold digger?”

He shrugs. “Just saying, isn’t it awfully convenient? Her business isn’t doing well, right? Are you so goddamn sure?” In the dark, his pupils are black, his eyes rectangular slits under his thick, frowning eyebrows.

I turn away, my voice quieter. “Mom’s not like that.” Right? She grew up poor, working her way up. Meeting Dad and becoming a Navy wife certainly bought her a lot of security, but she’s always worked hard. But now that her business isn’t doing that well, would she? It all happened so fast.

“For what it’s worth, I believe you.” His voice is calmer.

“You do?” I talk to him over my shoulder, not looking.

“You’re the stubbornest and proudest girl I’ve met in my life, babe. That shit came from somewhere.” His chair scrapes on the deck as he gets up. “I’m getting another drink.”

“I don’t think stubbornest is a word.” I smile at his praise in spite of myself. Why do I even care about his approval?

“I don’t give a fuck.”

For a minute there he almost seemed reasonable. “Alright. Fine. So what are you working for, then?”

He looks at me curiously. “Working for? I don’t have to. I’ve already got it.”

“Seriously? There’s nothing you’re burning for? Nothing you want to do?” I give him a disbelieving look. “Just party all the time and be an asshole?”

“Sure. Why not? What choice do I have? Dad expects me to take over at some point, so I guess I will. Maybe I’ll just sell it all off when he’s gone. Live off the interest.” He shrugs.