Wrecked (15 page)

His eyes
lit up. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome.”

I giggled.

“But
really, Lorrie. I think you should enter that competition. Submit your
portfolio. Worst that can happen is you don’t win. But you’ll kick yourself if
you didn’t at least try.”

Feeling a
little excited by Hunter’s encouragement, I looked at the sketch again and
found myself having a greater appreciation for it. “Alright, fine. I’ll have to
do some more pieces but I’ll enter the competition.”

He
grinned. “Sweet. You going to give me a portion of your winnings? Don’t forget
I was the one who convinced you and brought you the flyer. Consider it the
manager’s cut.”

“How about
if I win, I’ll cheer for you at one of your fights?”

His grin
became wider. “My very own cheerleader? Even better. I could use the support
during my fights.”

“I think
you get plenty already.”

“You can
never have enough support from ‘friends’.”

“True
that.”

He offered
his coffee cup out for a toast. “To Snorrie and Gunther. May their friendship
be filled with miscommunication and drama.”

“—Or not.”
I smirked and met his latte with my black coffee.

Hunter
stayed with me in the cafe until we finished our drinks. Then we parted ways to
go to our classes.

CURIOSITY

I went out
Saturday and picked up some art supplies at the school bookstore. Watercolors,
pastels, and some charcoal to go along with the pencils I already had. I was
thinking about mixing media by coloring in some of my pencil or charcoal
drawings with the paints or pastels. It would take some experimentation, but
maybe the results would be portfolio-worthy.

I spent the next  few days messing around with coloring in
sketches.
Thursday
came, and I went dutifully to Econ in the morning,
then killed some time before my drawing class at one. By the time I got back to
my dorm, it was about three. I sprawled out in my bed and started coloring in
some sketches I had done between classes in the coffee shop. I was considering
whether to use pastels or watercolors on a sketch of a steaming mug of tea when
my phone started vibrating on my nightstand. Startled, I got up and picked up
my phone.

“Hey Hunter,” I said brightly.

“Hey Lorrie, are you busy?” There was a combination of loud music and
men’s voices yelling in the background, so I could barely hear him. I put my
hand over my other ear to concentrate on what he was saying.

“I was just working on my portfolio,” I said. “Why? What’s up?”

“Oh cool, you’ll have to show me what you have when it’s ready. Anyway,
I was wondering if you could come down to the gym to help me out with
something.”

He was being vague and I couldn’t tell why. “What is it?” I asked.

Someone yelled in the background wherever Hunter was, which I was
guessing was his gym. “It’s a surprise. Can you come?”

“A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

“A good one, I promise. If you’re too busy it’s okay, but I’d really
appreciate it if you came by.”

I thought about it. Tomorrow was Friday and that was pretty much the
start of the weekend since I didn’t have any classes other than swimming, and
it wasn’t like I was in some super groove on my art. I could spare an hour or
two to find out what Hunter’s surprise was.

“Okay, I’ll come by.”

“Great! The gym’s called Bigg’s. I think it’s like a ten or fifteen
minute walk from your dorm.”

“I’ll figure it out. Should I just walk in?”

“Yeah there’s a woman at the front desk. Just ask for me and I’ll be
right there.”

“Okay, see you in a few.”

“Thanks so much. See you soon.”

He hung up. I opened the maps app on my phone and typed in Bigg’s Gym.
Hunter was right: my phone said it would take twelve minutes to walk there. I
put on my coat and headed out, curious what he had in store for me.

I had to look at my phone to make
sure I was at the right address. The place had darkened windows and no sign I
could see. The address above the door matched the one I’d punched into my
phone, but this building seemed deserted and the sidewalk was strangely empty.

What is this sketchy place? Should I call him?
It would be embarrassing if this was the
right address and I didn’t just walk through the door. I cupped my hands above
my eyes to block out any other light and pressed my face against the glass of
the door. The glass wasn’t just tinted black: it was actually covered.
Very
sketch.

I stepped
back and was considering trying the door when it popped open and caught me
flush in the face. My hands shot up to my nose and over my eyes as I stepped
back, praying I wasn’t bleeding.

“Oh my
god, I’m so sorry!” a woman’s voice said.

My nose
was throbbing, but I didn’t feel any blood, so I lowered my hands. “It’s okay,”
I said. “Not your fault.” She looked to be in her mid forties and had brightly
dyed bottle-blonde hair.

“I heard
you outside,” she said, eyeing my face. “Are you here to meet someone?”

I rubbed
my nose gingerly, but the pain was already going away. “Is this Bigg’s Gym?”

Her eyes
brightened. “It is. Are you here to see Hunter?”

How had
she guessed? “Yes, actually.”

She smiled
wide. “Oh, good! Come in, I’ll go and get him.”

I stepped
inside after her and took a seat in what seemed like a waiting area. There was
a desk and a computer where I presumed the receptionist—the women who had hit
me in the face with the door—did her work. On the wall behind the desk was a
sign that read “Bigg’s Gym: Get Bigggg!!!” in red block letters in front of a
cartoonishly muscled guy that would make even Popeye the Sailor Man say “Damn,
that’s ridiculous!” To the right of the sign was a large black curtain, behind
which I heard the sounds of loud music and leather hitting leather. Old black
and white pictures of fighters littered the beige walls around the waiting
room. Every picture had the same pose: a shirtless guy with big muscles stood
with his right hand in a fist just under his chin and a scowl on his face. I
looked for a picture of Hunter, but didn’t see one.

Hunter
came through the curtain a moment later, followed by the receptionist. They
both wore big smiles. He was shirtless and breathing hard, wearing the same
small gloves he had worn when I saw him fight at The Bearded Squirrel. When he
exhaled, the hard lines of his six pack popped. The way he was sweating made
the muscles in his shoulders and chest even more defined as they glistened
under the harsh gym light.

Seeing
Hunter half-naked, my heart felt like it was bouncing back and forth between my
stomach and my throat. “You look happy with yourself,” I said, my voice high.

He nodded
and gestured over his shoulder with his head. “Come on, you’re going to love
this. Thanks for letting her in, Kristy.”

Kristy
beamed. “My pleasure Hunter.” She took her seat at the desk and watched us as
we walked into the gym.

I got up
and followed him past the curtain. Punching bags were against the wall to my
right, and there were several guys practicing wrestling moves on foam mats. In
the back was a ring where two guys wearing red foam helmets were sparring with
one another.

“Come on
over here,” Hunter said as he led the way through the gym. He gestured to the
corner of the gym. “Alright, just back there in the corner. There’s Gary,
actually.”

Gary was
standing over a large cardboard box and grinning like an idiot. We locked eyes
as I approached and he gestured me over before pointing to the box.

“Ok,
Lorrie,” Hunter said. “This is what I needed you for.”

I peered
down into the box and gasped. There were at least six kittens squirming inside,
all in different shades of brown with white patches. They were all cuddled up
with each other, some awake, some sleeping, and looked as soft as a cloud. I
was unwittingly reminded of the black cat that had scared me and made me fall
into Lake Teewee. That was when I met Hunter for the first time.

Despite my
unluckiness with cats, I broke out in a big smile and squealed at the sight of
the cute little creatures. So
this
was why everyone was grinning like an
idiot. Now that I knew, I couldn’t blame them.

“Kittens!
Where did these come from?” I said excitedly.

Gary
looked at Hunter, who shrugged. “I was on my jog before coming here and they
were just sitting along the side of the road in that box. They had a blanket,
but it’s really cold outside and I was worried they’d freeze to death before
anyone found them, so I picked up the box and brought them here.”

An MMA
fighter with tattoos on half his upper body who had such a soft heart he
rescued a box of kittens—Hunter was an odd one, I had to give him that.

“Thing
is,” Hunter said. “Now I don’t know what to do with them.”

“What do
you mean?”

“I’ve
never had a pet before, to be honest. Growing up there’s no way my parents were
responsible enough for that. Do you know anything about cats?”

My heart
sank. “Not really, no. I didn’t have any pets growing up either.”

Hunter’s
face fell. “You see imaginary cats but never had one yourself? Odd.”

“Imaginary
cats?” Gary asked.

I looked at
Gary then glared at Hunter. He was going to let the cat out of the bag—so to
speak—about my lake swim.

“Nah, I’m
joking,” Hunter said quickly. “It’s nothing. I just thought Lorrie had a bit of
cat lady in her, that’s all.”

I put my
hands on my hips. “Apparently it’s less than you thought.”

“I mean,
how hard could it be?” Gary said. “You feed them and change their litter box,
right?”

“Do you
want them?” Hunter asked.

“I told
you man, I can’t have pets at the frat house. Plus I wouldn’t trust these cute
little things around those guys. They’re pretty irresponsible,” Gary said.

“I can’t
have them in the dorms,” I said. Even if I was allowed to have them, I wouldn’t
want to care for cats with my suitemates. Things were awkward enough with Kate
and Petra.

“Okay,
fine. I’ll take them,” Hunter said. “But we need to get food and stuff for them
because I don’t have anything at my place. Where do I get those?”

“I think
there’s a pet store next to the GUESS at the mall,” Gary said.

Hunter and
I looked at Gary quizzically. We’d been to the mall that one time when we
discovered the theater was closed but it was a big mall and we almost got lost
even finding the theater.

“How much
time do you spend at the mall?” Hunter asked.

Gary
looked between the two of us. “What? I’ve got to look fly for the ladies!”

All three
of us laughed.

“Lorrie,
want to come with me to the mall?” Hunter asked. “There’s a bus stop like two
minutes away. I’m pretty sure that line goes to the mall.”

“It does,”
Gary said quickly.

Hunter
chuckled. “Okay. Want to come?” he asked me.

Homework
could wait when there were kittens that needed care. “Sure, I’ll come.” I said.

“Great.”
He turned to Gary. “You can hang out with the kittens for a couple hours,
right?”

Gary
nodded. “You bet.”

“Okay,” he
said, turning to me. “Let’s go.”

We arrived at the mall about
a half hour later. Hunter had showered and changed into jeans and a hoodie, his
usual nondescript attire. He never failed to look good in anything I’d seen him
wear. Neither of us had much of an idea how to get around, so we found a
directory kiosk and navigated our way to the pet store from there. The store
was as big as a department store and had row after row of supplies for just
about any animal you could imagine. We walked over to the aisle labeled CATS
and started figuring out what we needed.

“Thanks
for helping me with this, Lorrie,” Hunter said. “I’m sure you have other stuff
to do with your day.”

“No
problemo. But if you were concerned about me having other things to do, why did
you make it such a surprise?”

“I wanted
to see your face when you saw the kittens.” He grinned. “It was a very cute
face by the way.”

His warm
tone made me feel fuzzy inside. Maybe it was just the pet store. “Well, thank
you. I’m pretty excited about these kittens. How long do you think you’ll keep
them?”

He
shrugged. “Haven’t thought about it. I have to get them home and settled first,
then I’ll decide.”

I nodded.
Even though I didn’t have any firm future plans, I would maybe think twice
about adopting six kittens, but Hunter was apparently barreling ahead.

“Will you
help me take care of them?” he asked.

What kind
of commitment was he asking for here? I decided to keep my answer vague.
“Sure.”

“Great.”
He picked up a food bowl. “They probably need one of these, right?”

I nodded.
“Yeah, I think they need to eat.”

He threw
two in the cart and some water bowls too. “What do kittens eat, do you think?
As opposed to cats. Is the food different?”

I
shrugged, having no idea. Hunter had already picked up a bag of cat food and
was reading the back. “This says for cats over one year old. What do you feed
kittens, then?”

He scanned
the aisle. Someone who worked at the store came over to talk to us. He had dark
hair and glasses, and was only a few inches taller than me. Hunter towered over
him. “Can I help you with anything?” he wheezed.

“Yeah. I’m
looking for food for my cats,” Hunter said.

The guy
was wearing a nametag that said TODD. “How old are your cats?” Todd asked.

“I don’t
know,” Hunter answered.

Todd
looked exasperated. “What do you
mean
, you don’t know?”

“I don’t
know.”

“Well,” he
said. “Do you know if they’re older or younger than a year old?”

Hunter
looked at me over Todd’s head and smiled. “Yeah, they’re definitely less than a
year old.”