Authors: Leigh Jackson
8
Kori
A month has passed since I played my first open mic night at Sawyer’s. My month has been filled with my normal routine of class and work mixed in with Tuck. We text each other constantly throughout the day, and we spend time at each other’s houses several days a week. Each time he has come over, Avery and Chelsea haven’t been there, so I have yet to tell them about our friendship. I haven’t seen Chase over at Tuck’s any either, but from what I can tell, that isn’t unusual. Chase seems to take his role of womanizer quite seriously.
We haven’t had sex since the day we worked on my Bronco, and we seem to have easily slipped into a comfortable friendship. He finds a reason to touch me at every chance he gets, but I don’t mind that. I find myself relaxing around Tuck in ways that I couldn’t relax around other people. Maybe it has to do with the fact that he doesn’t know anything about my past, so I never feel that he is treating me with kid gloves. He doesn’t take my shit the way so many guys have. Instead of being frustrated by that fact, I find myself liking it.
Lunchtime today finds me alone, which is unusual lately. Tuck and I have developed a pattern of grabbing a bite to eat together every day. I had never been able to make my lunchtime coincide with Avery or Chelsea’s, so it was perfectly logical that Tuck would become my lunch buddy. However, today he had to meet with his advisor, so I am dining alone in the cafeteria. Not my most favorite thing to do, but I would just put on my big girl panties and get over it.
As I sit at the table that Tuck and I usually occupy, I notice a group of sorority skanks whispering and looking in my direction. I internally roll my eyes and decide to ignore them.
Just as I am finishing up my food, I hear Blonde 1 say in an obviously loud voice, “Oh, I don’t think she’s actually his girlfriend. Tuck would never be with a girl like her. I mean, look at her.” At this pronouncement, her bevy of plastics titter like a bunch of idiots. “Can you imagine him taking her home to his parents? Puhleeze. He can do so much better than her.” With that last comment, Blonde 1 shoots her eyes in my directions and gives me a deathly glare.
Wow, what have I done to piss this bitch off?
I have grown used to being the brunt of gossip and whispers, but it has never bothered me as much as the garbage spewing out of this plastic’s perfectly lined mouth. A part of me knows that she is right. Tuck can do so much better than me. I will only drag him down with my baggage. The other part of me, the selfish part, doesn’t want to admit that to myself or Tuck. I like being around Tuck; even though we are just friends, I know he cares for me. And I will be damned if I am going to let this phony slut get the best of me.
I paste on a phony smile to match hers and purr in the most sickeningly sweet, sardonic voice I can muster, “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you think that he wanted you? I guess you think that you’re better than me. Maybe so, but at least I’m not a plastic bitch surrounded by a bunch of self-absorbed assholes. So fuck you.” And with that mature tirade, I grab my tray and walk away with as much dignity as I can muster. Inside, I am grabbing Blonde 1 by the neck and slamming her face first into the table. I pray that my face is totally impassive and doesn’t reveal how much she has pissed me off. Although the phrase “fuck you” probably clued her in to my level of pissed-offness.
As soon as I step out into the bright sunlight, I feel a familiar arm wrap itself around my waist.
“Hey, Kor. Did you eat without me?”
I resolve to myself that I will not let him know how much I am hurt by the acid that has just been verbally spewed in the cafeteria. None of it was his fault. “Yep. I had to fight the guys off with a stick since you weren’t there to run interference for me. I picked up a few new customers.” This isn’t true, but Tuck has often remarked that he felt like my pimp when guys approach me. They would attempt to hit on me, and he would silently sit back and glare at them. It never took very long before they abandoned their efforts and left us alone. I have repeatedly pointed out that pimps don’t run guys off; they made sure they were paying customers. Tuck always gets a kick out of the fact that I compared myself to a prostitute.
Tuck, being the observant guy that he is, immediately notices that something is off. “What’s wrong, Kori?”
“Nothing.” He shoots me a look that lets me know that he doesn’t believe a word that I said. “Fine,” I sigh, resolved to tell him. “Apparently a few members of your fan club don’t like me very much.”
Tuck stops walking and forces me to look at him. “What fan club? What happened?”
“Nothing that I can’t handle. She was just running her mouth. I handled it, okay? I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself.”
Tuck pulls me into a hug, and I melt against his chest. I can’t help but breathe in his unique scent. It reminds me of clean soap and fresh sweat and sunshine. It is perfect, just like Tuck.
“I know you can take care of yourself, Kor. But we’re friends, so I’m allowed to worry about you. You don’t have to be a badass all the time.”
I punch him playfully on the arm and roll my eyes. “Shut up, Tucky.” He wraps his arm around my shoulder as we make our way to his truck. “Oh, and since I had to deal with your psycho bitch fan club, you get to buy me some ice cream.”
Tuck throws his head back and laughs. “Fine, you win. Let’s go get some ice cream.” And with that, he smacks me on my ass and darts away before I can retaliate. I jokingly shake my fist at him as my heart does a somersault inside my chest. I have a sense that my feelings for Tuck are beginning to get a little complicated.
“Kori, get your ass in here right now!” I barely make it through the front door before I hear Avery yelling at me. I groan as I wonder what the problem is today. With Avery, there is no telling; she seems to conjure drama up like a magician.
I make my way to Avery’s room and find her and Chelsea sitting on the bed with a bottle of wine on the bedside table. I smile at the bottle and lift my eyebrows.
“Bad day?”
She waves the bottle away as if it isn’t important. “Don’t try to change the subject.” I’m confused as to what subject I’ve changed in the ten seconds since I’ve been home. “Why didn’t you tell us that you and Tuck Hayes are fucking?”
Shock jolts through my body and my jaw drops. “Wh-what?” I sputter.
Avery and Chelsea both lean forward eagerly. I am immediately taken back to high school when we used to sit around and gossip about boys. The wine in those days was cheap Boone’s Farm, but that’s the only thing that has changed.
“Don’t play all innocent with us, Kori O’Malley. What’s going on with you two?” Chelsea demands.
“Nothing. We’re friends, that’s all.” I don’t know why I don’t tell them about Tuck and I having sex. I tell myself that it has nothing at all to do with the fact that after countless forgettable hookups, I finally had Earth-shattering sex. The kind of sex that inspires artists and ends wars. It’s best that I keep those details to myself. I know that anything that I say can and will be used against me.
“Word on the street,” I snort at Avery’s description. She ignores my interruption. “Word on the street is that the two of you are inseparable. Why haven’t we heard about him? I know the two of you met at Sawyer’s that one night, but we had no clue that you two hung out after that. We’re supposed to be your best friends, Kor. Why didn’t you tell us?” She turns on the pout and the sad eyes. It’s a good thing my heart is made of stone or I might be prone to feel sorry for her. Sadly, it’s more difficult for me to ignore Chelsea.
“Kori, what’s going on with you two? The truth,” Chelsea chimes in.
I huffed out a sigh. “I don’t know what’s going on with us, honestly. I really like him. He’s my best friend. But you guys know that I don’t do relationships. I can’t be involved with somebody, so it doesn’t matter if I like him or not. I’m not going to risk him turning away from me, so let’s just drop it. Okay?” As I’m telling them all of this, I’m admitting to myself for the first time that I
like
like Tuck. When did that happen? We were supposed to stay just friends; we made an agreement. I groan inwardly. I can’t let him know that I’m feeling this way, it will change everything.
Chelsea puts on her serious face that she uses when she thinks I’m not listening to her. “Kori, that is complete bullshit. From what I hear, Tuck and you are always together. That’s unheard of for him. He doesn’t do relationships, and he doesn’t even have friends who are girls.”
“Exactly,” I interrupt her, “he doesn’t do relationships. We have an agreement to just be friends.” I close my eyes as I realize my mistake.
“What?” shrieked Avery. “You guys discussed this? Did you talk about sleeping together? What did y’all say? Tell me everything.”
“Yes, we talked about sleeping together,” I answer truthfully. There is no point in revealing that we did more than just talk about it. “And we both decided that we are just going to be friends. Now drop it; I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
They both attempt to continue their Team Tuck tirade, but I continuously brush off their words. Eventually, they give up and we all sit around Avery’s room drinking our wine and laughing. Sometimes I want to throttle these two girls, but they certainly are the best friends that a girl could ask for.
Kai had encouraged me to come again to open mic night, so I convinced Avery and Chelsea, to come with me again. We push our way through the crowded bar as I clutch my guitar case as tightly to my side as I could. It is my most prized possession, and I would be devastated if anything were to happen to it. We finally reach our table close to the stage, and I lean my case against my chair. Avery announces that she is going to buy the first round of drinks and sets off to make her way to the bar. I glance up and see a familiar guy making his way toward me. I groan as I realize who it was.
“Hey, gorgeous. You singing tonight?” Chase asks with a devilish look in his eyes. He pulls out an empty chair and spins it around. He straddles it and places his arms on the back of the chair and looks at me expectantly.
“Yep, sure am.” Maybe a short answer would get rid of him quickly. I wasn’t sure if he knew that Tuck and I were friends, but I decided to just go with it for now.
“Good. I’ll just hang out here with you then. We can finish our conversation from last time. I do believe you were telling me how you liked it rough and dirty.”
Wow, he is certainly confident. Okay, he was more along the lines of cocky, but I certainly wasn’t going to inform him of that. I’m sure he would turn that into something lewd. “Is that how you remember our conversation ending? Because I remembered it being about the fact that you’re a boy, not a man. Oh, and you
don’t
have a giant dick.” I struggle to hide my smile. Despite the fact that Chase is definitely an ass, he is definitely a pretty likeable ass. I’m sure he has no problem getting girls to go home with him.
Chase chokes on his beer and sprays some out onto the table. “Shit, you’re killing me, Kori. You must have hit your head pretty hard during the weeks that you’ve missed me, cause that is definitely not the conversation that I remember.”
“Hmmm, that’s how I remember it. In fact, I might just have to put our conversation, the one that I remember, to music and sing it tonight. Let’s see, Chase is a boooyyy, and he has a tiny toooyyy. He thinks he’s so cool, but he doesn’t even have a giant tool.” I sing my impromptu song in a sing-song voice and watch as Chase bursts into laughter.
“Hell no, don’t sing that. Truce, Kori. Truce.” His eyes look so serious that I can’t help but offer my hand to him.
“Fine, Chase. Truce.” We shake hands with all the seriousness as if we had just brokered a major acquisition. We smile at each other as we release our clasp.
“You know, Kori, I think we’re going to be pretty good friends. As long as you don’t sing that song.”
“Agreed. So, where’s Tuck, tonight?”
Chase looks at me quizzically. “He’s around here somewhere. He was buying the first round. I’m sure he’ll turn up in a minute. You and my boy are pretty tight, huh?”
I’m saved from having to form an answer to that question as Avery plunks our drinks down on our table.
“Who’s your friend, Kori?” she asks coolly.
I recognize the look in her eyes. She is definitely interested in him. Avery is the female version of Chase. I would never call her a whore, but she definitely likes to have fun. She figures if guys can play the field and not be attached, so can she. The fact that she is friggin’ gorgeous doesn’t hurt. She has straight blonde hair and deep blue eyes. She is short and thin, but she packs curves in all the places that guys like them. Lots of guys have made the mistake of thinking she was just a dumb blonde, but they quickly learned otherwise. If they didn’t, they got a dose of what George Thornton back in fifth grade got.
I quickly make introductions around the table. “Chase, these are my best friends, Avery Simpson and Chelsea Fox. Guys, this is Chase Harrison. I met Chase last time after I sang. We had a very interesting conversation.”
Chase laughs and shakes his finger at me. “Uh uh, Kori. We can’t agree on how that conversation went, so we just don’t need to talk about it. I would hate for your friends to be misinformed.”
I snicker at his comment and agree with him. We quickly fall into a very comfortable conversation. Chase fits in with the three of us extremely well. He is definitely putting the moves on Avery, but she is also putting hers on him. I figure he will either wind up back at our place tonight or she will wind up at his. I glance up at Chelsea, and she gives me a discreet flash of two fingers by her ear as she looks at Avery. Long ago we had come up with an unspoken language for when we were out. We both know that it was just a matter of time before Chase and Avery get together. It will be interesting to see how that plays out.
Our conversation is abruptly interrupted by a rough greeting directed toward Chase. “Hey, asshole! Thanks for letting me know you weren’t sitting in our regular spot.” I turn toward the voice and see that it is Tuck. He is walking toward Chase with a scowl on his face and holding two empty beer bottles.
“Did you drink my beer?”
“Uh, yeah. You said you were going to sit down, but you never showed up. I was thirsty. You could have at least sent me a text.”
“Man, check your balls. You’re acting like a girl.” Chase winks at me. It is obvious that he likes to annoy Tuck.
Tuck’s arm shoots out and slaps Chase in the back of the head. Chase’s head jerks forward and he snakes his arm over and punches Tuck in the gut. Tuck doesn’t even flinch. Chase flexes his fingers as Tuck laughs at him. I know for a fact that those abs underneath that shirt are rock hard and totally drool-worthy. He turns his attention from his friend to me when he places a brief kiss on my forehead. I don’t miss the questioning glances that Avery and Chelsea are shooting my way. “Hey, Kori. Has Chase been annoying you again?”
“Nah, nothing that I can’t handle.” I smile at him and feel butterflies flutter in my stomach. This is certainly a new feeling for me. It isn’t that I was shy around guys; I can definitely hold my own. But Tuck is affecting me in a way that no guy ever had. I like him, but I’m not the dating type of girl. I have way too much baggage that I carry around with me; there is no room for a guy and the emotions that they evoke. I turn to make introductions once again. When I do, Avery and Chelsea both flash me two fingers by their ear. I shake my head at them. I wasn’t hooking up with Tuck tonight. They don’t need to know that I had already done that and enjoyed it way more than I should have. It wasn’t like me to keep a guy around after we hooked up, so I knew they wouldn’t suspect anything. Even though our friendship is strictly platonic now, I can’t explain why I am keeping Tuck from my two best friends.
Tuck pulls a chair up beside me and settles into it. He taps my guitar case with his foot. “What are you singing tonight?”
I shake my head at him. “I can’t tell you that, Tucky. I don’t ever tell anybody what I’m singing until I’m on stage. It’s a superstition of mine.”
“Ah, I see. You wearing your lucky socks, too?”
I smirk in amusement. “No, smartass. What do you think I am, a total idiot?” This is one reason that I like Tuck so much. He is the type of guy that I can be a smartass with and he would be completely in line with all of my sarcastic jokes.
Our table falls quiet as we listen to the DJ introduce the night’s first performer. Two guys loudly take the stage, obviously bolstered by some liquid courage. One carries a guitar, and the other guy settles himself behind the microphone. I cringe as the first notes of the guitar clash in harmony. It takes several minutes to sort through the notes and realize they are performing a Waylon Jennings song. Because I consider myself a performer, I try not to be too harsh of a critic when it comes to other people’s singing abilities. However, even I can’t come up with anything positive to say about these guys’ cover of the great Waylon.
Thankfully, the next hour and a half of performances doesn’t fall nearly as short as the first one did. Our group eases into a comfortable conversation. Chase and Avery flirt and bandy friendly insults back and forth. Chelsea, Tuck, and I watch them and laugh at their transparent advances. Tuck has somehow managed to scoot his chair closer to me, and his thigh is brushing mine. I have to give him credit, he is being very subtle about it. If I hadn’t been paying attention to him, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Unfortunately, my body seems to be in tune with anything that Tuck Hayes does. Every move he makes, my eyes notice. Every laugh that rings from him, I get a little thrill from. I feel like Bryan Adams’ classic stalker anthem has become my theme song.
My eyes narrow as I watch Marcie Lambert strut her slutty self over to our table with her eyes locked onto Tuck. She stops and props her hip on our table as she leers at Tuck. She runs her eyes up and down Tuck’s body.
“Hey, baby,” she croons as she lightly walks her fingers down his arm. “I haven’t heard from you in awhile. Why haven’t you called me?”
I fight the simultaneous urge to vomit in my mouth and slam her face into the table. I chance a look at Tuck’s face and feel relief when I see that he has a look of disgust on his face. I hate Marcie Lambert with every fiber of my being. She made my life a living hell after my mom died. My body is tense waiting for her to offer up a catty remark about me. She is the last thing I want to tolerate right now, especially after already dealing with Blonde 1 and her crew at lunch today.
“I told you I wasn’t interested, Marcie.” Her eyes nearly pop out of her head at that announcement. I fight back a laugh, she whips her head around and attempts to seal my fate with a deadly stare. She squints her eyes at me and smirks.
“Oh, Kori! How are you?” Her saccharine voice makes my head hurt. “How is your dad doing? Have you seen him lately?”
Anger courses through my body as I jump out of my seat. “Shut the fuck up, you bitch. If I ever hear anything about my family come out of your mouth again, I will kick your ass. Do you hear me?” My body is shaking with rage. How dare she talk to me about that.
Marcie can tell that she needs to back down and get away from me, but she isn’t going to let it go without one last jab. She clucks her tongue at me in a disapproving manner. “Well, I certainly see that you are just like your father. How sad.” And with that, I snap. I lunge at her, fully prepared to teach her a lesson. She scrambles to get away from me. Marcie is definitely a bitch, but she is all hisses and little scratches. She isn’t ballsy enough to follow through with anything. Her preferred method of attack is verbal.
Avery jumps in front of me and grabs my arms. Chelsea is standing right beside her. “Kori,” Chelsea snarls. “I know you want to kick her ass all over this place, and she definitely deserves it. But you know you can’t do that. Not now. You have to sing in just a little bit. That’s more important, right?” Chelsea has always been the voice of reason in our little trio, and this time is no exception. I know that she speaks the truth, as much as I hate to admit it. I never should have let Marcie get to me. People like Marcie have whispered about my family for the past six years, and I have mostly become adept at tuning it out.
I nod my head as I sink back into my chair. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, guys.”
Avery and Chelsea look at me with understanding in their eyes. “Anytime, Kor. We always have your back.”
I look back and forth at Tuck and Chase. I am nervous as to what they will think about me after my altercation with Marcie. Chase pipes up first, in typical Chase fashion. “Damn, that was hot. I thought you were about to beat her ass. I love when chicks fight.”
My hand shoots out and smacks him in the back of the head at the same time as Avery’s. “You’re a pig, Chase.” I look at Tuck hesitantly. He reaches under the table and squeezes my leg right above my knee.
“You okay, babe?” His eyes look worried.
I nod my head in affirmation as I feel those damn butterflies start fluttering in my belly again at the use of the word babe. He’s never called me that before, and I like it more than I should. “Yeah, I’m fine. Marcie and I have never gotten along.”
“Yeah, me either. I can’t stand her,” he shudders.
I cock my head to the side and study him. He looks as if he really doesn’t like her, but she certainly seems to like him. Tuck is every girl’s fantasy, and from what I have heard around campus, a good many girls have lived out that fantasy with him. Not that it is any of my business; we are just friends after all. Still, I have to command the green monster welling up inside me to get back in her cave at the thought of Tuck and Marcie getting together. I offer a tentative smile and attempt to slip back into the fun mode that our night had been in before Marcie came slithering over.
Finally, the DJ introduces me. God, that always sends a shiver coursing through my body. I pray that one day, I will hear my name being announced to 30,000 screaming fans. But until then, 125 of my closest drunk friends at Sawyer’s will work just fine.
“That’s me,” I say with a grin as I shrug my beloved guitar onto my shoulder and make my way to the stage. My friends loudly hoot and whistle as I sit on the stool behind the microphone. I hitch my leg on the stool’s rung as I try to keep my modesty in my short denim skirt and give a smile to the crowd. I can feel the energy and passion pumping through my body. “Hey, guys. Hope you enjoy.” I had decided I would keep my talk short this week. My song choice is deeply personal for me, and I am afraid that saying too much about it will make me too emotional. I float into my own world and begin to pour my soul out to the audience. Switchfoot’s “Dare You to Move” speaks the words that I have had bottled up inside me for so long. All of the pain of my past is in this song. I