Vince Taylor. “God,” I groaned, unable to stop myself. “That’s so fucking hot. It’s so not fair. The least he could do by looking the way he does is be named something horrible like Leslie Poofington or George Bush. God hates me.”
“It does sound very sexy,” Sandy agreed, laying his head back down on me, snuggling closer.
We stayed like that for a time, in the quiet, me rubbing his shoulders slowly, him humming softly to himself in that way he does when he’s content. Then something bugged me (as usual) and I had to ask. “Sandy?”
“Yes, baby doll?”
“How come you didn’t go talk to him?”
He turned his head, his chin on my chest, staring up at me with his pretty blue eyes. “Should I have?”
I thought for a moment and then shrugged.
He nodded. “I didn’t, because I knew that’d piss you off. And I don’t like it when you’re mad at me. Makes me feel all funny inside, and not in a good way. Ever since my parents… you know….” He sighed and looked away, biting his bottom lip.
I did know. His parents were killed in a car wreck when we were sixteen. I’ll never forget the look on his face when I was called into the principal’s office, the way he shook, his hand squeezing mine so hard that I had bruises for a week afterward. The look he’d given me was one of heartbreak, yes, but it was also of a boy who was completely lost. I promised myself right then and there (as I had over and over again for years) that I would always take care of him, for the rest of our days. And I liked to think I’d kept my promise, at least as best as I could.
“I know,” I said softly, rubbing his shoulder.
“There’s not so very many people I trust, and even fewer that I say I can trust completely,” he said. “But you’re number one, you always have been. And I push because I want everyone to see you as I do, this bright and shining star that would take their breath away. But I get scared one day I’m going to push too hard and you’ll leave me too. I don’t know where the line is and I don’t think I ever want to find out.”
“Hey,” I said, grabbing his chin, bringing his bright eyes to mine.
It’d be easy though, right? my dad had said.
Maybe. Maybe not.
I leaned forward and he sighed, and his lips brushed mine and…
… we both burst out laughing.
Definitely not.
“No spark,” he said as he giggled.
“None whatsoever.” I laughed. “It’s like incest.”
“If only, right?”
I nodded, brushing his hair out of his face. “No one’s gonna love me as much as you do.”
He stopped laughing then, suddenly serious. “You just wait,” he said quietly. “I promise. You’ll see.” He kissed the tip of my nose and sank back down onto my chest. “Besides, we’re both bottoms. What would we have done? Bumped boy pussies?”
I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Shut up and watch the movie.”
And he did exactly that, right where he belonged.
Vince Taylor.
I sighed like a forlorn school girl waiting on her sparkling vampire boyfriend.
Oh sweat balls.
MONDAYS suck.
“Mrs. Jackson,” I tried for the sixth time. “Mrs. Jackson.” I lowered the volume on my headset, waiting for Mrs. Jackson to finish.
“Do you know who I am?” she screamed into the phone. “Do you know who the fuck I am? You better do what I say!”
I bit back every single sarcastic remark I could have possibly said and took a deep breath. “Mrs. Jackson, this is the tenth time we’ve had this conversation. There is no coverage for your accident because you let your insurance policy lapse. When you don’t pay your insurance bill, you don’t have insurance.”
“Are you being condescending?” she shouted. “I know my rights. I am an American citizen.”
“I’m sure you are,” I said. “But I don’t know what that has to do with this conversation. You could be from Botswana and we’d still be having this conversation.”
“You better hope I never see you on the streets,” she growled. “Because if I did, I would cut you.”
Gee, another threat. “Mrs. Jackson,” I said, trying to keep the boredom out of my voice, “it seems I have to remind you again that these phone calls are monitored and we take threats very seriously.” Well, we didn’t, actually. I don’t think I know of anyone that has been murdered doing my job. Plus, she lived like three states away, so she would have had to take a bit of a road trip if she was going to really cut me.
“You gonna fix my car?” she snapped at me, ignoring me completely.