I didn’t go out of the house the following days. I didn’t take any calls. Jen tried to call me once or twice. I didn’t bother to pick up. I still didn’t know what to do about her. I didn’t want to listen to her explanations until I was decided on how I wanted to move forward.
I was testing my limit, too. Could I survive the next weeks, months, or years being by myself and not have Jen shape my future for me? Would I be happier if I untie my fate from hers?
Every day, after school, I go straight home. My father was in Europe for an extended trip, so I was more or less free to go around the house in my boxer shorts, a pair of t-shirts, or even in a Barney costume, and nobody would tell me off. The maids already knew I was a little weird, but I think they still prefer me over my father, his mistresses, and eccentric guests any day.
In the evenings, I cooked, which was something I was very good at. My mother was a genius in the kitchen, and she taught me to experiment with ingredients.
“What’s for dinner?” I heard Brett ask behind me. He settled himself at the bar opposite the kitchen counter. “Smells good!”
Brett has been my frequent visitor lately. Since my father was out of the country, he felt safe hanging out with me at home. He even slept over sometimes. My father didn’t hate Brett. In fact, I remembered he was quite fond of him. However, following our fathers’ big fight, Brett hadn’t frequented our house anymore.
I served him mushroom with chili beef strips. Brett smiled, his mouth-watering. He had always been a big fan of my cooking. Actually, he was the only fan. My father doesn’t eat at home. And Jen, well, Jen barely eats to keep her size six figure. “Amazing!” Brett praised when he took a bite. “You should just open up your own restaurant. You’re good with creating fusion, something people haven’t tried before but will surely love. You should be a chef, not a shrink.”
I couldn’t tell if he really knew what he was saying, though. His mother never cooked a day in her life, so Brett was no authority to judge my culinary skills.
I brushed my hair with my fingers to keep it from my eyes. Brett was looking at me thoughtfully.
“This is the longest I’ve seen your hair,” he commented.
I shrugged. “I didn’t feel like chopping it.”
“Maybe we should wear our hair long this time,” he said. “And then we’ll do braids. Do you know those cornrow hairstyles? We’d be like braid buddies!” He sounded completely sold on the idea.
I leaned forward, pretended to study something on his face, and then I said, “Wow! You’re a dork. How you manage to get laid every week is completely beyond me.”
“How you manage to not get laid at all is completely beyond me.” He smirked.
“I have higher standards when it comes to sexual partners,” I said.
I’m very picky. I would like my partner to be squeaky clean, and I see nothing wrong with being safe. Besides, my sexual appetite is not as wanting as Brett’s, and there was nothing wrong with that, too. Kissing is overrated. So is sex. I didn’t really see why Brett couldn’t get enough of it.
“How long is it safe to come over here?” Brett asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe one more week, give or take.”
“You have one week to make me fat, then.” He smiled widely. “Perhaps I could come up with the money to invest in your new bistro.”
The more he talked about putting up a restaurant, the more it became appealing to me. That was my mother’s dream. However, we weren’t rich, and Isabella’s income was just enough to keep us afloat and save for my future. Life was comfortable, but we didn’t have enough cash to put up a new restaurant.
My phone rang.
Your Hot Wingman.
I stared at my phone for a long moment. I looked calm, but inside, my pulse was hammering. I took a few short, quiet breaths so Brett would not suspect that I was battling all sorts of emotions inside me.
Battling my emotions? Damn! I’m Ken Clarke.
I have never had difficulty controlling my emotions before. Why was I having a hell of a time doing that now? And because of Nicholas Atkins? Who the hell was he to mess up with my mind like this?
I didn’t need to define myself now just because I met a beautiful piece of ass that came with a brilliant mind and a good heart. Nicholas Atkins made me feel things I hadn’t felt for anyone before, and I hated it… because it was all new and unfamiliar to me.
I rejected the call and then turned off my phone.
Brett was looking at me carefully. “What happened with, you know, Gracie?”
Good! That’s just the distraction I needed.
I shrugged. “I haven’t spoken to her since that night she and her mother beat the hell out of Terry Lakefield.”
“Heard you beat the hell out of JD Collins.”
I wanted to say to him that it wasn’t me. Sure, I gave JD a punch or two, but I probably didn’t even hurt him one bit. But Nicholas sure did. I wondered how JD’s auditions went.
I just shrugged instead of either lying or talking about Nicholas.
“I hope Gracie thanked you for what you did,” Brett continued. “JD Collins was talking about their night to anybody who would care to listen.”
“He sure was, wasn’t he?”
“Guys with small dicks and big egos tend to kiss and tell,” Brett said. “Unfortunately for Gracie, she chose the wrong guy to sleep with.”
“Yes, she sure did.”
“I don’t get that asshole. I mean, Terry Lakefield is hot!”
Now that I thought about it, Brett was right. Terry actually looked prettier than Jen, and JD still cheated on her.
“What a loser!” Brett said.
In a way, I felt less sorry for Jen than I should. She should have known better. Terry Lakefield was her friend, and JD Collins was an ass. Everybody in town knew that. I wondered what possessed her to be so stupid or desperate. You do not fool around with a shit like JD Collins, and you do not treat your friends like that.
But seriously, why did I expect her to treat Terry better? I was her best friend for years, and she wasn’t even the least grateful to me.
During the next week, my days turned into a routine. I’d go to my classes and complete all the requirements for my graduation. I literally stayed out of Jen’s way. If I saw her, I wouldn’t know what to say and how to react. For six years, we saw each other almost every day. Somehow, it felt as if I was breaking up with her, although we were nothing romantic.
Friday afternoon, after my last class, I stopped by my locker to deposit my stuff. I rarely brought my notes home. I never studied them anyway.
As I shut my locker door, I was surprised to find Jen standing beside me.
I raised a brow at her.
“You can’t avoid me forever,” she said.
“Who said I was avoiding you?” I asked innocently.
She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Ken! I know you. You can’t stay away from me for that long.”
I faked a laugh. “I just succeeded, didn’t I?”
“You did,” she said in a haughty tone. “And I want you to know it felt good!”
Ouch!
But I did not even flinch. I wanted to show her I was unaffected. Living without her was not as bad as I thought it would be anyway.
“For the first time in years, I felt free!”
“Congratulations,” I murmured sarcastically. She was trying to hurt me with her words. I wanted to retaliate, but then, I couldn’t risk it. I didn’t want to hurt her, even if she didn’t give a shit about how I felt.
“You didn’t have to punch JD Collins!” she said angrily. “I was fine! I could take care of myself. You totally ruined my chance to finally have a relationship!”
“Who said I punched him for you?” I asked in a cold voice. “Maybe I did it for Terry. Her scumbag of a boyfriend couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.”
“You broke his freaking nose!”
“Ah. I’d love to take credit for that, but nope.” I shook my head. “That wasn’t me. He’s got Atkins to thank for that.”
Her angry expression turned to shock at the sound of Nicholas’ name.
“N-Nicky? He punched JD for me?” Suddenly, she was sporting a dreamy look on her face; I wanted to fucking puke all over her pretty pink dress!
I punched a guy for her, and I was the fucking anti-hero. Nicholas came to the rescue, and he was the freaking knight in shining armor!
When will this stupid girl appreciate what I do for her? Brett was right. Jen was not exactly a good friend.
“You’re gonna have to ask him. I can’t speak for the guy. Even if I could, I wouldn’t,” I said acidly.
She raised her voice, not caring who would hear her. “That’s because you’re selfish and jealous! You’re always ruining my chances of being happy! You’re so freaking obsessed with me! I wish you would get lost and leave me the fuck alone!” Then she turned on her heel and stormed away.