Wanted Always (Xander Barns) (11 page)

“You are so bad,” Francine hisses
uncontrollably. “Oh my God!”

Francine giggles loudly. “Your black
underwear are now zebra print, darling.”

“Why do you think I’m throwing them out? I
love it on me, not on my clothes,” Ruthie answers, then the sound of plastic
crinkling stops.

“Now that that’s been dealt with, how
about you help me find Donald? I’ve got something I need to tell him,” Ruthie
says sexily.

“Oh my God, you’re bringing the girls out
again?”

“He seemed rather fond of them before. Why
not bring them out more and watch him explode with desire? I can’t wait,”
Ruthie says. The sound of Francine giggling in disbelief and sheer joy dim out
as they leave the bathroom.

What the hell was that?

I feel violated.

I should sue…something! The images. The
words. Zebra print?!

I’ll never be the same again. I can never
go to the zoo again! No, I love the zoo.

Curses.

Congratulations, Mother; these are the
friends you’ve been blessed with, hormone-enraged divorcees looking for hookups
anywhere they can get it.

MILFs!

I peek through a gap in the stall to make
sure the coast is clear of those bumbling, drunken idiots. I do not want to run
into them accidently and have to explain about not actually hearing their
little conversation about cum and zebra print.

My phone rings as I exit the stall. I
check the caller I.D, and roll my eyes with exasperation.

It’s Xander.

Again?!

What now?

I bring the phone to my ear after
answering his call.

“What now?” I hiss through the receiver. I
stop in the middle of the passageway exiting the bathroom.

“Well, hello to you too,” Xander laughs
from wherever he is.

“Well, is there something you need, Xander?”
I ask him impatiently.

“Just wanted to know something,” he asks
timidly.

I slowly walk out of the passageway.

“Yes, and that is?”

“Do you think maybe you can run a little
before coming over, like in the parking lot?” he asks me, and it takes me a few
seconds before I kind of understand what he really wants.

Sweaty undies?

Nasty.

“You are…you are…Goodbye, Xander!” I hiss
disgusted and end the call.

I can’t believe him. It’s bad enough that
I have to leave my father’s birthday party early (even though I’m not having
that great of a time) going to him just so I can hand deliver my thong because
he wants it fresh.

I should tell him to go fuck himself, that
I don’t owe him shit, and that if he wants to, he can try and sue me, because
I’m not going to do shit for this joker. I went out with him last night (I
know, stupid!) and that should have been plenty in the favor category.

In fact, with the shit he pulled this
morning, he owes me! Owes me big! I charge out the passageway with my head
down; it’s as if I’m a bull with steam rushing out if my ears in angry madness.

I’m livid.

I also don’t look where I’m going and
charge head-first into someone standing right outside the bathroom entrance.

“Whoa!” I belt out as my head goes into
the hard frame of my victim. “I’m so sorry!”

I glance up as I rub the side of my head
where it hit, but I drop my hand when I see who it is I crashed into.

Ben.

Shit.

Now what?

“Why were you standing there? You scared
me!” I yell at him, stepping away from his embrace, and begin walking away. Ben
grabs my arm, stopping me.

I stare at his hand. “Take your hand off
of me.”

“No,” Ben says sternly.

“I won’t ask you again; take your
nasty-ass hands off me!”

“No, I won’t; who’s Xander?” Ben asks me
acidly.

I’ve never really seen him like this
before, a little jealous.

I should play it up, but I’m not really in
a game-playing mood right now. I’ve got a parking lot to go find and jog in.

Master’s request.

Damn Xander and his deep pockets! Why
couldn’t I get the debt thing off my conscience? I wish I could believe myself
when I say I really don’t owe him anything. But my beautiful dress, the shoes,
and the hair and makeup…that stuff costs a lot of money, clearly.

Back to Ben…someone I owed fucking nothing
to. Well, except for maybe a knee to the groin.

“Why do you want to know?” I reply amused.

“Who is he?” Ben asks sternly.

Does he think he means business when he
uses that tone with me? That it makes him more of a man??

Someone needs a reality check, clearly!

“None of your business,” I tell him as I
lean toward him, his hand still clasping onto my arm.

“You’re so full of it.” Ben shakes his
head. “So, it makes sense now. The new dress. The new look. The ride in the
SUV. Was it all from that guy, Xander?”

Yes! But it’s not like that.

I shouldn’t care that right now Ben is
making me feel like a whore, even though I told Mom and Gwen that I had a pimp
and he was responsible for the new outer me. But I don’t like hearing Ben imply
it.

The only person who can imply things here
is me. Not jerk-offs and bitches like Ben and our mothers.

Fuck them!

I lean closer to him, looking him dead in
the eyes.

“Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. Why the
fuck do you care anyway?” I whisper acidly.

“Stop playing with me,” Ben whispers back,
pulling me closer.

Wait! What?

I lean back.

“I’m not playing with you. You were set
free months ago, so run along. There’s nothing for you here,” I tell him
sternly. “Besides, don’t you have a date to get to?”

Shit, I thought I was on a roll. I really
shouldn’t have said that. Now he knows.

Knows that I read his email.

Ben smiles snidely. Like he knows shit
now.

Fuck!

“So, you have been reading my emails.”
Ben’s snide smile grows.

Shit!

“And you didn’t feel the need to respond
to them at all? That’s nice, real nice, Marisa.” Ben’s eyes narrow.

“I had nothing to say to you; and
honestly, it confused the shit out of me, wondering why you were taking your
princess-time to email me,” I inform him matter-of-factly. “I mean, didn’t you
have things to do? You know, like make out with some more short, skanky
redheads? I’m sure there’s bound to be more than just that one from Kyle’s party.
What do you think, at least five left in Ottawa alone that haven’t had the
privilege of kissing your precious cashmere lips yet?”

Ben’s face turns red.

Goal one for me!

“What did you just say?” he asks me
slowly.

“You heard me,” I whisper back.

“I didn’t cheat on you with multiple
women; how dare you! The girl at the party was a drunken mistake!” Ben growls.

“Not my problem anymore. What you did or
you didn’t do, go kiss, go fuck, just go and do whatever you want to do; just
leave me alone,” I hiss at him.

“Is that what you really want?”

“Made that clear five months ago. Guess
you didn’t hear me loud and clear back then when I moved to another city,” I
tell him.

“You’re full of shit! You know that,
right?” he says in disbelief.

“Among other things, but sure, add that to
the list. I know how you love adding every con about me to it, with
anticipation every time one came up. You were always so happy to see me crash
and burn in all things in my life!”

Ben lets go of my arm, finally, and steps
back with his eyes widening. “You’re crazy. Delusional!”

“That’s right, and proud of it!” I jerk my
chin up to him. “So step aside, princess-boy, and don’t let me catch you
anywhere near me ever again. You’ve got that disease still, I see; bet you
thought those red spots around your lips were just pimples. My opinion, the way
you’ve been acting lately, you best get that checked, like now.”

I take a deep breath.

“You have a problem, Marisa,” Ben
whispers, looking at me like I’m unstable.

Maybe I am. Wouldn’t have it in any other
way; I want him to think twice before speaking to me ever again.

The psycho ex-girlfriend.

“No – not just ‘a’ problem, correction, a
lot of problems. I’m a changed girl. That’s right, I twitch now, and blurt loud
obscenities when I get angry!”

Ben’s worried expression fades as
disbelief takes over.

“Oh, so this is you angry?” Ben states
amused.

I’m burning I’m so angry right now.

“No baby, this is not me angry. Trust me,
you’ll know when I scream your ear off in front of every one of those
fancy-pants ass-wipes back in there who think they’re hot shit. Then you’ll
know what humiliation really feels like, what feeling like shit is like! Golden
Boy!” I tell Ben in a low voice.

“Now, get out of my way.”

“No,” Ben says.

“I said, get out of my way!”

“No!”

“I will move you myself if I have to;
don’t play with me Ben.” I tell him sternly.

“Go ahead; let’s see you do your worst.”

I stay as quiet as does he. We are in a
quiet duel, seeing who will make the first move.

Fuck this shit!

I get my body ready to make the first move
and charge through him when I remind myself that I’m wearing a brand new dress,
and I don’t want to rip it. So I relax my stance back into its original
position.

“You know, you’re lucky I’m wearing a
dress that I love, or else I’d have tackled your ass right out of my way,” I
explain to him.

Ben takes a step closer, leaning in.
“Trust me, baby, I almost wish you weren’t wearing that dress either so you
would. God knows, I’ve been waiting,” he explains in a husky voice.

“What?” I mutter confused.

Where is he going with this?

“It’s too bad, different place, different
time—”—

“Stop saying things like that; you can’t
say things like that. I don’t like you anymore!” I interrupt.

“You’re lying,” Ben states.

“I’m not. I actually hate you!” I spit
out.

“You might, but that doesn’t mean you
don’t love me anymore.”

I can’t believe he just said that.

I can’t believe it.

I turn away.

“Stop talking to me,” I say, facing the
wall. I feel Ben come closer and breathe into my neck.

“You still love me,” he whispers.

“Stop talking,” I order weakly. He folds
his arms around my waist and tucks his face into my neck.

“I can see it in your eyes,” he murmurs.

“Stop,” I plead quietly.

“Baby, please. I never stopped loving
you,” Ben says.

“Stop, Ben. Don’t say stuff like that, you
can’t!”

“I’m dying without you, baby.”

“Ben…please don’t,” I plead as his arms
tighten around my waist.

“I fucking love you,” he says into my
neck.

“Stop!” I jerk my head away from his face.
“You don’t! You cheated; people who cheat, don’t know what love is.”

Don’t cry! Shit, I’m going to cry…my
makeup!

“I fucking love you,” he says again.

“You cheated!”

“I made a stupid mistake. I was too drunk;
we had that fight a few days before and I was at the party all by myself.
Everyone had their girls with them,” Ben explains, and I find my strength back
and yank myself out of his arms. But as I turn, he presses his body into mine
and I’m trapped against the wall.

Shit! And we are in a hallway that went to
the emergency exit of the building, so no one will come this way.

“So we’re back to that again, huh? It’s my
fault; everything is all my fault. My lips weren’t the ones on someone else’s!”

Ben moans, frustrated. “Back and forth,
this isn’t going anywhere.”

I look at him. “So don’t bother. Go back
to the party and leave me alone.”

Something in Ben’s eyes darken. He leans
back, letting me go, and turns abruptly, quickly walking away and leaving me
practically paralyzed against the wall.

About to burst into tears, this is not the
kind of reunion I had planned. I certainly didn’t plan for him to profess his
love for me.

I’m so confused, because I don’t know what
to do. Deep down inside me, I know I still love him. But things weren’t the
same. I head back into the bathroom to check how I look. When I get in front of
the mirror, I’m stunned. My appearance isn’t as traumatized as I thought. I
thought I had turned into a complete mess. But I look almost fine, practically normal.
A big difference to Ben’s face; he seemed tortured and angry.