Read Room 212 Online

Authors: Kate Stewart

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary

Room 212 (2 page)

BOOK: Room 212
11.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“HEADS UP!” someone shouted a few feet away in my direction. I rose off the ground quickly to see what they were referring to and was immediately hit with what felt like a hammer directly in the mouth.

“Son of a bitch!” I roared, bringing my fingers to my lips and seeing red immediately. Tears sprang to my eyes. The pain was so intense that I couldn’t hold them back. My lips were throbbing horribly. I winced at the bright sun that invaded my senses from having my eyes closed for so long.

“Oh, God, I am so sorry!”

“What the hell man!”

“Your lips are bleeding pretty badly. I’m going to get some ice. I’ll be right back.”

I lifted my hand to shield my eyes from the sun and saw a guy jogging over to a cooler halfway across the length of the park. I immediately started searching for the weapon of destruction responsible for the throbbing in my face and saw a red Frisbee. A damn Frisbee can cause this much damage? I swiped my fingers across my lips and saw that they were still bleeding pretty profusely. What the hell? I picked the Frisbee up and studied it. It had the words Driver 1 scribbled on them. The guy was back, in my face now, and he carefully wiped away the blood before applying a make shift ice pack made of paper towel and ice on my lip.

“Get the hell away from me!”

“Whoa…I’m just trying to help. I’m really sorry my friends and I were trying to play around you and—“

“This park is huge! How hard can it be to avoid hitting someone with a damn Frisbee?”

“You were lying directly under one of the goals,” he said, pointing behind me to a metal chain basket that had the number six on it.

“What? Why a goal for a Frisbee?” I was keeping my head down, pressing it to the ice pack that was quickly melting into the paper towel.

“It’s called Frisbee golf. You know, instead of golf balls and putters we use Frisbees, and the goals replace the holes. Yeah, we were thinking of asking you to move, but figured we could work our way around you. Didn’t work out so well.”

“You think?” Well that explained why the word Driver was on the front of this one. It was definitely heavier than a regular Frisbee.

“Look, I’m really sorry… Uh, what’s your name?”

“Mad bitch with a busted lip.”

“Well, mad bitch with a busted lip, I’m Seth.”

“Well, Seth,” I said standing up quickly as I threw his ice bag to the ground and pulled my blanket into my arms, “thanks for the heads up, jackass. If you hadn’t of yelled it, my face wouldn’t be spewing red.”

“Another bad idea after the fact… Look, are you going to give me a break here?”

“Yesterday I would have, today no,” I glared at him. It was only then that I finally noticed the guy I was talking to was absolutely beautiful. He had short strawberry blond hair and deep green eyes. His t-shirt clung to his ripped chest and his soccer cut shorts looked strained around his thighs. He was tall and slim, but had an insanely muscular build. He seemed to tower over me as we stood facing each other. He had my height beaten by at least half a foot. Jesus. I soaked in his eyes and caught myself staring at his mouth. His lips turned up at the sides when he saw me finally notice him. He was smug. I hated smug. Chris was smug.

“Well, screw off then,” I snapped, dismissing him as I turned to walk toward my Honda.

“Oh, come on mad bitch with a busted lip, at least tell me your name.” I turned to see him amused with my behavior.

“Why, so you can brag to them that you hooked up with the hot girl whose lip you busted?” I said as I pointed my fingers at the group of guys giving us little girl waves and smirking. There were three of them and they seemed absolutely thrilled at the spectacle they were watching. I narrowed my eyes at them and pulled at my bikini top to make sure I was still covered.

“I never said you were hot,” he replied, a smile playing on his lips.

It was all I could do to keep from slapping him. I turned abruptly and started walking towards my car when I felt his hand stop me.

“Do not touch me!” I knew I had said it a little louder than I should have. This guy really didn’t deserve the wrath I was dishing out, and he seemed sincere in his attempt to make amends. But after the night I had and the morning now too, I was at the end of my rope.

“Sorry. Jesus, I was just going to ask for my driver back.”

Not realizing I still had it in my hand along with my blanket, I shoved it out in front of me for him to take. He approached me carefully and grabbed it quickly.

“Laura, I’m sorry. It’s just I had a bad night… Fuck it.” I walked off without further explanation. I owed him nothing and I could care less what he thought. I was now three hours and thirty minutes from my shift and I knew there was no way I was getting any sleep. Still, I had to try. Not bothering to leave the park, I climbed into my backseat and actually managed to doze off. I heard my pager go off, minutes I thought, after I had finally found my slumber.

I quickly realized that it was dark out.


I read the message: 911. It was the bar.

I got in the car and sped down the highway, sliding on my work tee and putting on what makeup I could around my swollen lips. I was almost two hours late and this was not going to be pretty. It took me ten minutes to get there and another ten to find parking. I walked in expecting to find my boss, Gary, pissed and ready to send me home.

“Laura, what the hell happened to you?”

“I was hit by a…Chris.” I was so going to pay for that lie.

“That little mutha—"‘

“I’m fine, really, I am. It took a long time to stop the bleeding, but I didn’t want to call in on you. It was really bad, but trust me, I have it under control and it’s over.”

“Sure, babe, whatever you need. I’ll have Callie take the late shift so you can go home early.”

“NO!” I screamed out of desperation. “No really, I’m fine. I want to work it.”

Shocked and almost looking annoyed at this point, probably from trying to be nice, he muttered, “Okay.”

“Thanks, Gary, and I am sorry for being late.” I walked quickly behind the bar and shoved my purse underneath and grabbed my tiny black apron. It was pointless to be a bartender with an apron, and I had explained that numerous times. But, if that’s what Gary wants, then that better be what Gary gets. He owned the bar, and didn’t have a problem micro-managing it down to the smallest detail, including where the damn straws went in the bar cubbies. It was nice to see a tender side of him for a change. As long as I did what I was supposed to and my drawer was never short, we had no problems. And I looked forward to the one hundred plus I made a night working at the Lemon. It was super easy to walk away with tired feet with that much cash in hand. Usually, I would take the hundred and stash it away for bills and spend the chump change on my drug of choice for the evening, but now I needed every spare dime I had to get my own place.

How quickly things could change, I thought, as I counted my till. Please let tonight be better than the last. My silent prayer was accompanied by a long sigh. I was resigned that this thing with Chris really was for the best. It still stung that he could cheat, but I was no angel, and being faithful to him had been a complete waste of my time. I had the long shift, meaning I was there until at least 2 A.M. That didn’t bother me, besides my lack of sleep, and I was actually beginning to get excited about the idea of having my freedom again. I mean sure the sex was good. He was never stingy with the drugs, even though he did way more than I would ever do. But other than that, Chris was useless to me. He did nothing for me and never went out his way to make me feel special. It was as if I was living with a friend that I screwed for two years. A shiver ran through me when I thought of how stupid I was to have stayed for so long. Well there’s my first lesson. I was twenty-one years old and not at all interested in a long-term anything anymore. Thanks for that, Chris.

“Two Foster’s, please.”

“Draft or can?” I asked without looking for the source of the voice who ordered.


I reached into the cooler and grabbed the last two glasses, and was immediately pissed. The glasses weren’t stocked from the previous shift and I was stuck, as usual, doing some other shithead’s work. I tilted the first glass into the draft and barked “six” at the guy who ordered them when I caught his eyes. His beautiful green eyes were studying me in amusement.




“How about ten, Laura?” He smiled.

I felt the beer sputtering from the tap and start to spill into the well. Damn this dude! I cut it off, instantly ignoring his light laughter, and grabbing the next glass. When I had both beers ready, I slammed them onto the bar and grabbed the ten, stuffing the entire thing into my tip jar.

“Six,” I proclaimed loudly. Leaning over the still open cooler, I glared into the ridiculous green eyes and whispered, “you owe me.” I raised my chin to give him a better view of my busted lip and realized I was only inches away from his mouth. I quickly sprang back on my heels and saw my nipples had hardened from standing over the cooler and were sticking through my bikini top and super thin work tee. I was embarrassed and I don’t get embarrassed. What the hell is it about this guy? His eyes drank in my lips and then my chest and settled back on mine.

“Ten more then, Laura.” He grabbed his beers and walked away, leaving me with an eyeful of amazing ass that was mostly covered by his long tee. I noticed his long flare cut jeans and Adidas and rolled my eyes—another club kid. What was he doing here? Did he follow me? No, no, when I woke up in the park it was completely deserted. This couldn’t be a coincidence. I saw a crowd gather at the front door and knew my brother Dave was responsible. He was becoming a big name in the club circuit and had a group of admirers. I found it a little weird, but it was becoming more and more of a trend that knowing the DJ was something to boast about. I asked Callie to cover me for two minutes and grabbed Dave by the arm as he walked by carrying in some of his equipment.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Not now, Laurs.”

“I know you’re busy, but look. Chris and I broke up and I slept on a fucking lawn today!”

He stopped immediately and set down his turntable on the stage. My parents wasted no time in between having their two Barbie babies. We grew up closer than average siblings due to being one month shy of the same age. We looked nothing alike. He had dark blond hair and blue eyes like my father. He stood at least 6’ 2” and towered over me. He had been a huge football star in high school, which was a blessing and a curse to me. No one ever screwed with Dave Sedgwick’s little sister and no one wanted to date her, either.

Those who were brave enough to knock on our front door were quickly greeted by Dave and my father. By senior year, I was forced to date guys from other high schools and had found out quickly that his reach went a lot further than just our campus walls. When Dave finally graduated, I was granted a little freedom. My father gave up within the first few months of my senior year and told me that I was old enough to figure it out for myself. I had nothing to do with the spineless guys who were too chicken shit to ask me out because of my brother. I was more interested in the older guys and had no romantic notions about anything school related. It was all so boring. I was known as a goody two-shoes by the time I left high school. It was laughable to say the least considering I had been deflowered a year before by a guy I had been seeing who went to college.

I never let anyone get very close to me in school. There were only a few girls I liked enough to call my friends and even they couldn’t understand where I was coming from when it came to dating. I was way more interested in what was going on outside of high school and had barely managed to escape with my diploma. Dave had a reputation for being a ladies man in our current circles, though he was in love with a DJ named Krista who was just as popular and sought after by club owners as he was. They had been dancing around getting together for years, both worried about ruining their friendship, neither really admitting they weren’t ready for the inevitable. They seemed to be okay with dating other people, for now, even though I knew it killed Dave to see her with other guys. I loved Krista and she would talk to me regularly about the situation. It was the only reason I knew about it. My brother was tight lipped about most things personal. Still, we were close. He had opened up to me about her once or twice, and I was completely blown away with the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about her. I knew my brother loved only a few things in this world, me and my parents, Krista, and his turntables, and on any occasion would fight to the death for any of them.

I saw worry and confusion cross his face as he studied me.

“What happened? Oh hell no, did he do that to your face?” I saw him look past my shoulder and narrow his eyes. I followed his attention and saw Chris standing in the doorway. Dave pushed past me and quickly headed in his direction.

He was fast, but I was faster.

“Dave, Chris did not do this.” I quickly jumped in front of him, attempting to block his path to the door. He wouldn’t look at me, though I was inches from his face, pleading with him. His eyes were fixed in a menacing stare on Chris. I spotted Seth at his table in the direction we were walking and grabbed his arm and dragged him away from his table to help me quickly explain. Dave, confused with my angle, finally stopped mid-stride.

BOOK: Room 212
11.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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