Bittersweet Symphony (2 page)

I am seething; no, I am pissed. How a little girl about five foot tall with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes has wiggled herself under my skin, I don’t know.  All I can think about is finding a way to crush her, to obliterate her from getting any closer. Blondie sees underneath my armor, and I need to pull my shit together quickly. I guess that’s what I get for sticking up for her. Funny she can tell me to take the high road, but she can’t put asshole Sam in his place.

I want to punch something, to kick something, anything, to alleviate the anger stirring in my veins. Who does she think she is, telling me that I don’t do happily ever after’s and fairy bullshit? Of course I don’t fucking do that; I do nothing but fuck; mindless, no holds barred fucking that little, innocent girl has no clue how to do.

Since leaving her in the hall, all I can think about is the way her dark, blue eyes looked into mine when Sam pushed her and how her plump lips will look in between my teeth. She doesn’t dress to show off, so I have no idea what she is packing underneath her clothes. But that doesn’t matter to me; her feistiness makes up for that just fine.

Her silky, smooth skin will be as soft as satin; her hair will flow in blonde, endless waves... God, my dick was getting hard thinking about all the ways I can take her against a wall.

I need to stop, and I need to find a way to keep her at bay. Fuck, I need to find a way to keep myself at bay.

“You look angry. Something happen to you?” Landon, my roommate, asks as I slam the door to our apartment. Since Rex and Jenna… God, just the slip of her name drives me insane sometimes. Since they moved in together, and Corey and Mimi finally stopped eye fucking and actually started fucking one another, I was forced to get a roommate. Not that Landon is bad or anything, but I prefer solitude. We are the same side of a coin, and we get each other; that’s all that matters anyway.

“Not something, more like someone. Do you know a guy named Sam?” I ask, stalking into the kitchen for a bottle of water. I need to work out or fuck someone because I can’t deal with the ache, the burn, within me.

“I think so. Kind of has the face of an ass crack, walks around like he owns the place, smug, total douche? Of course. Why do you ask?” Landon continues to type away on his laptop as he waits for me to answer. When I don’t, he turns around to see what the fuck is up.

“Dude, why the hell would you ask a question like that and not respond?” I shrug my shoulders, not quite sure why I asked in the first place. It isn’t my job to care about the damsel in distress. I have seen girls get fucked over and hurt. Most of the time I’m the one doing the hurting, but I haven’t ever inflected physical pain on a woman, and that right there makes my blood boil.

One look at Blondie and I knew he has been hurting her for some time, leaving small marks on her that are so insignificant and unseen that no one would notice but me. Corey is an asshole, yet he had never touched Jenna. His antics were still shitty, but he drew a line on what he would and wouldn’t do to her.

“I saw him harassing some girl in the hall on my way back from class.” Blondie isn’t just some girl, but she isn’t anything to me either. “He had her on the ground on her knees as she was picking up her shit off the floor.  When I approached them, he kind of locked up. Then, once she finally got all her stuff together and stood up, he pushed her to leave.”

Landon’s face forms into disgust as I relive the situation. There is no fucking around: this Sam guy is a bully.

“Yeah, he’s an asshole. I went to high school with him. Who was the chick?” he asks curiously. I’m afraid to say her name; I have just recently found out what it is and instead of calling her by it, I just call her Blondie. Its fit her better.

“Kennedy Chap,” I reply, voiding her name of all emotion from my mind. I have known the girl all of two seconds, and she’s already wreaking havoc on me. Yeah, we’ve watched each other from afar, but today is the first time I have ever talked to her. She and Mimi are kind of friends, and I was told not to go there more than once.

A look of shock crosses Landon’s face and then is gone. “Wow, doesn’t surprise me. He used to have a thing for her, and then one day he changed. They went to a party, and he kind of just left without her and has hated her ever since.  The way he obsessed over her and the fact that he still can’t leave her alone are sickening.

Yeah, his creepy obsession is more than sick. It has me wanting to crunch his bones into little pieces and sprinkle them on top of cupcakes and present them to Blondie.              

“So, he’s always done that to her… I mean, put his hands on her?” I ask, afraid of the answer I will receive. I must have a thing for the damaged, bullied girls. Then again, they say those who share a similar past are always pulled together to fill the voids that they never had anything to fill with in life and fuck if I don’t want to fill Blondie’s voids. My mind slowly drifts back to a night not too long ago, could have been a couple months ago or so, when I saved a girl’s life. She reminded me of Kennedy, but I knew that couldn’t be. She wouldn’t have ever been seen in a place like that. Landon’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

“What you saw, man, was nice; I’ve seen him do meaner shit. No one sticks up to him because, well, there usually isn’t a reason to. If you’re not his equal and don’t agree with him, he finds a way to make your life hell. Therefore, you turn the other cheek and let it be. Nothing you can do but protect yourself.”

Looking at Landon, I wouldn’t have ever expected those words to come out of his mouth. He’s a big guy like me, broad shoulders and muscles everywhere. He doesn’t look like the type of guy to take someone’s shit.

“Well, I didn’t turn the other cheek, so I’m assuming a shit storm is in the making for me,” I say laughing. It’s not really funny, but the fact that someone would get crap for sticking up for a helpless girl is just crazy funny to me.

“Probably, although I’m pretty sure you can hold your own, man.” I nod, rubbing at the scruff on my face. That, I could. We Winchester boys know how to fight, not that we ever like to. I, of all people, know how to fight. Dad would beat on me the most, telling me what a worthless piece of shit I was. Eventually, his moves instilled in my brain, and I learned how to hit him where it counted. He learned really fast that I wasn’t to be fucked with.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I take it out, looking at the screen intently. It’s Corey, and he wants to go out for wings at Toxic. Great, the one place Chelsea, a clingy, easy lay, will probably be, not that he has any interest in her. Hell, most of the time I don’t even have an interest in her - just when my dick begs for some attention.

I text Corey back to let him know that Landon and I will meet him there.

“Hey, you want to go to Toxic for wings and pussy, dude?” That is our code for getting laid and right now that’s what I need more than anything. I’m the only one of us in our little group who isn’t wrapped around a girl. I refuse to allow myself that kind of feeling. Opening up only leads to heartache and pain. I refuse to put myself or another helpless soul through it. I may be a savage asshole, but I’m not for breaking someone’s heart when it involves real love.

“Of course, I’m down for anything. Let me go change my clothes and then we can head out.” Landon gets up from the couch and heads to his room. As I wait for him, my mind lingers back to Kennedy. Why would she allow herself to be treated like that? Why could she stand up to me and not Sam?

All I have are a whole lot of questions, but no answers. Then I feel the itch, the one I get when something bothers me, and I feel the need to investigate. It is deep, down to the bone, and the only way to cure it is to get answers.  The only way to do that is to subject myself to more of Blondie’s beautiful verbal abuse. I have to figure out where she is and what she is doing; then it hits me: I know exactly who I need to talk to.

I’m not sure if it’s possible to hate my life any more than I already do. I didn’t get into Berkeley with Mommy and Daddy’s money. Hell, I don’t even have a mom and dad as far as I’m concerned, it’s just me and my grandparents. I worked my ass off to get into this school, and I refuse to allow anyone to push me out of here or make me afraid to be here. Unlike many other students, I’m here because I deserve it, not because Mommy and Daddy thought this is where I should be.

I pull my Fusion into the parking lot of Toxic. I smooth my hands over my short jean shorts and my tight, black, fitted tee. This is the only time anyone ever sees me like this. What can I say? A girl has to do what she has to do to make some decent tips, even if it means looking like a cheap whore for a short amount of time.

I open the car door and slide out, closing it firmly. The parking lot out front is filled with tons of college students. At least I will make some money tonight. I go in through the back door where all the employees enter. Clocking in, I look over at Joe, my manager. Most days he’s a dick, a slave driver per-say, but he protects us girls with a vengeance. Nobody messes with the girls at Toxic.

“Get over here, K. We need someone in areas C and D. One of the girls called in sick, and I don’t have time to call someone else in right now. You’re on your own, sweetheart,” Joe says, smiling as he pats me on the back.

More than you know, buddy. I grab my apron and my little pad and pen for orders. I am a shy girl; when I’m not here, I’m usually in the library with my nose stuck in a book or studying. With no friends, there isn’t much else to do.

“Get moving, sweetheart! Tables are filling up!” Joe yells from the bar.

I roll my eyes and make my way out onto the floor. The second my eyes land on the first table I need to take orders from, I feel like shrinking back and running to the nearest rock to hide.

Ryder, one of his friends, and a busty female are patiently waiting for their waitress to come and take their orders. I am their waitress, and I have to take their order. Damn you, God, I just had to say something about making my life hell.

“Hi, welcome to Toxic. Can I get you guys a beer, maybe a fresh order of wings?” My voice is smooth and syrupy. What can I say? I’ve had a little practice. Three pairs of eyes look up at me, two of which look extremely surprised.

“Kennedy?” the guy next to Ryder asks. My gaze drifts over to him, and for a second, I almost forget what Ryder looks like. Almost.

“Landon?” He looks good, different, but good none the less.

“Yup, that’s me, sweetheart. I knew you went to school here, just didn’t know you worked here.”

I laugh, one of those crazy, I’m kind of exhausted so leave me alone laughs. “Yeah, I have to pay for tuition somehow.” The girl on Ryder’s arm glares at me, and if looks could kill, I swear I would be dead twenty times over by now.

“What will it be?” I ask again. This time Ryder’s eyes land on mine and our gazes hold one another’s. The tension is back in his body. His eyes are darker, if that’s even possible, as he removes the girl’s arm from his chest. I can see her well-manicured finger nails digging into the flesh of her hand. Yeah, the feeling’s mutual, sweetheart; I’m using all my self-restraint too.

“May I have a word with you Kennedy?” The way Ryder says my name makes it seem like it’s difficult for him to do. Good. I don’t want him saying my name anyway. Yeah, you do. You want him moaning your name instead.

“No. I’m working as you can see.” The girl’s face next to him lights up once she realizes I’m not going to pay him any attention.

“Well, you can quit working and talk to me.” It’s not a question, it’s a demand. He’s telling me what to do, and if that doesn’t piss me off enough to start swinging, I don’t know what would.

“Kennedy,” a voice I know all too well says. I turn around and see Mimi barreling toward the table, Corey in tow.

“I didn’t know you worked here, you snatch.” Mimi and I have a weird friendship; she’s the pain in the ass friend I never had and never realized I was missing. Jenna and I are alike in a lot of ways: we both think similarly, and knowing we both love Mimi is enough for us.

“Like I was telling these guys, I have to pay for school somehow.” Is it a crime to actually hold a job while attending college nowadays? You would think I have a sign on my forehead that says dumbass.

“A word. Now,” Ryder growls, his hand landing on the small of my back. If I am touched by another male today, I am going to scream. Mimi’s eyes shoot daggers at Ryder as she looks him up and down.

“Is there a problem?” she asks Ryder. I look between the two of them. They don’t look as if they hate each other, but they also don’t look like they particularly enjoy the other’s company.

“If she had a problem, Mimi, it wouldn’t be with me.” Anger is quite evident in his voice and facial features as his brow furrows. The hand on my back that was gentle at first is now urging me forward.

“I’ll… I’ll… be right back, guys,” I mumble, glaring over my shoulder at Ryder as he hurries me toward the bathroom. Once we’re alone, I whirl around, pointing my pen into his very chiseled and muscular chest. He smiles smugly at me.

“What do you have to ask me that is so important that it could very well cost me my job?” His eyes slide over my body from head to toe, not missing one single spot. He is totally checking me out. Pig. Total fucking pig. Plus, he’s not even paying attention to what I asked him. Instead, he’s licking his lips, his white teeth biting down hard on his lower lip.

“You, Kennedy Clap, are a total fucking tease.” I look at him, rather confused with where this conversation is going. What the hell is he talking about?

“A tease. You interrupted my work to tell me I’m a tease. You’re so dense, Ryder,” I grumble, clearly frustrated that he is causing me problems.

“Yes. You walk through the campus in shorts or skinny jeans, always making sure every piece of creamy skin is covered. Then I see you here, and it’s like you’re not the same girl.” Ryder’s words hit, and suddenly it occurs to me that he’s been watching me.

“You’ve been watching me. What are you? A stalker?” I’m slightly scared for a second. Ryder seem harmless, but so do most people who plan to murder other people. I have so much to live for; I cannot die a virgin. No.

A light blush forms on his cheeks, and I know I embarrassed him.

“I haven’t been watching you really, just seen you in passing. Besides, that’s not the point. I pulled you away because we need to talk, and I’m serious.” He is back to demanding, not asking. Does this man ask for anything?

“Excuse me, but how dare you treat me like you treat that girl you have in there next to you? I’m not a vagina plug in; you can’t just plug into me and walk away content. You can’t tell me to fucking do something because I don’t listen to people who tell me what to do. I listen to me, and that’s it.”

“Why are you afraid of him?” Ryder asks as if he has the answers. Panic seizes me. He’s going to try and figure me out; He’s going to try and dig his claws into me. He wants to pull back the layers and look at me for who I am. No way.

“I’m afraid of no one.” I glare at him.

“You’re afraid of me,” he says, reaching out and clasping my jaw in his hand so I can’t look away. There’s a deep determination in his eyes. It’s consuming. It’s raw. It makes me want to give in to him.

“No, I’m…” Before I can finish my sentence, I’m turned around and pushed face first into the wall. The impact is gentle, but it still startles me. I gasp as his hands incase mine behind my back. My heart beats out of my chest, and for the first time ever, I’m afraid of what he’s capable of doing to me.

“Scared now?” he asks, his voice menacing.

“No,” I say between clenched teeth. I refuse to give him the satisfaction he wants.

Not a moment later, the breath leaves my chest and I’m pressed firmly into the wall as Ryder’s length pushes against my ass. I panic, letting out a whimper. It’s not the same… It’s not the same… I continue to tell myself.

“I would never hurt you Kennedy and I refuse to let other people hurt you.” Ryder’s voice is just above a whisper, and I tremble beneath him. Terror runs through my mind. I can be as strong as I want, but it doesn’t make things go away. It doesn’t make the nightmares and pain go away.

“I know someone who’s damaged when I see her. You and I have more in common than you think, Blondie.” His body eases off of mine, but I continue to stay in the position he put me in as I try to calm myself down. A shudder runs through me. Memories assault my mind: the pain, the hate, and the anger. I feel the bile rising in my throat. Ryder did this.

“We’re far from different, Ryder. I’m dealing with my problems; you’re screwing through your problems. We’re as far from the same as it gets. Don’t come near me, don’t try to protect me, and don’t pretend like you care.” The look in his eyes chills me to the bone. It’s full of anger, and it’s unsettling. I march back to the table to take everyone’s order. By the time Ryder makes it back to the table, he’s a little calmer.

The girl, whose name I know is Chelsea, sinks her claws into him fast. Yeah, you can have him, bitch. He’s not even worth it. I bring them their drinks and food and go to all my other tables taking orders and serving nonstop. When Ryder and his friends leave, the only one to say goodbye is Mimi.

The night carries on as if nothing happened. But something did. I know it because instead of being my cheery self, I am depressed and angry. All I want to do is go home and be left alone to crawl under the covers and read a book.

“You can go home, K,” Joe says from the bar. How I survived tonight, I have no idea.

I take off my apron and put it behind the counter. Taking my tips out, I count them and then shove them into my pocket. One hundred and fifty dollars, not bad for five hours of work. Even as I make my way out to my car, I still can’t shake what Ryder did to me. He’s very observant of others, and that scares me. Most people don’t go around letting out all their secrets, and I’m not any different.

However, he stirs something in me that I’ve never felt. I crave the affection and friendship. I know he has secrets of his own. He’s beautifully broken, and if he plans on finding out all my secrets, I plan on discovering his secrets as well. Two can play this game.