25 - Grey
Holy fucking shit. Those are the best words right now. Probably the only words I'll need for awhile.
Look, I get that Fiona wanted to come out and have fun with Emily. I completely understand that part of this. How did they wind up on some makeshift stage in a frat house being sold to the highest bidder, though? Who the hell thought that was a good idea? I need to dig down deep and figure out what the fuck was going on there, but I'm not in the mood right now.
If I'm being super honest, I'm in the mood to toss Fiona over my shoulder, carry her ass all the way back to the hotel, and make good on my promise to her. I kind of want to make her suffer a little more, though. Not in a bad way. It's just impossibly hot watching her stumble around, her legs quivering as if she's forgotten how to walk.
Yeah, I did that to her. I mean, technically she did it to herself, but it was my idea. That... fuck... that was probably my best punishment to date.
There's something I forgot, though. I didn't forget it so much as we had to vacate our little slice of heaven to soon. We leave the room hand in hand, Fiona clinging to me like she can't possibly do this alone. I don't want her to, either. I want to be here with her every step of the way. I thought it'd be a good idea to let her have this night to herself, to experience something new and different with Emily, but I guess I didn't fully realize how much she wanted me to be here with her.
It's hard, you know? I want her to be her own person, but I also want to cuddle the fuck out of her and spend every waking moment at her side. What the fuck am I supposed to do in that case? No fucking clue. I'm still trying to figure it out. I've never felt this way about anyone before, but I've always felt a strong connection to Fiona. I just, uh... yeah... she's my sister's best friend and she's twelve years younger than me so I kind of pushed all thoughts of anything out of my head before they could take hold of me.
She's got a hold on me now, though. Literally and figuratively. She holds my arm tight as I escort her into the hall and we wait for Emily.
Which, speaking of...
“Oh no!” Fiona says, gasping, eyes wide, staring at the door down the hall from the one we just came out of. “Daddy, um... Emily's... she's with a guy in there, and... oh no...”
I smirk, wondering how I should let this play out. I mean, let's be real for a second, these girls really should have thought this through better. You get involved in a Seven Minutes in Heaven auction and at some point you sort of have to realize you're going to wind up in a room alone with a strange guy. What's the worst that can happen? I don't think I have to answer that question.
In this case, nothing bad's going to happen. Nothing bad did happen. Except I really do want Fiona to realize that bad things can happen in life and you sort of need to always be aware of that. I mean, don't let it go too far, don't let those thoughts get out of control and stop you from living and enjoying your life, but...
She frets and fidgets and looks like she's ready to just run down the hall, fling the door open, and beat up some guy that's doing who knows what to her best friend, my little sister. I lay a reassuring hand on her arm and rub her shoulder.
“It's fine,” I tell her. “It's just Porter in there. He's a good kid.”
“Who's Porter?” Fiona asks me, head tilted sideways.
I shrug. “I just met him. Him and his friends were stuck outside. We figured out how to sneak in here together. Honestly, out of all of them, he's probably the only one I would have trusted to go in there with Emily. The other two are cool, but Porter didn't even want to go in so I trust him more and I don't have to deal with some guys ogling my little sister, you know? It's a win-win from what I can tell.”
Fiona looks up at me, brow furrowed. She purses her lips and makes a little harrumph sound, like I probably should have told her all this earlier so she wouldn't worry over nothing. But then her eyes dart towards the door again and I can tell she's still worried no matter what I say.
And... I mean... Porter seems like a good kid, but admittedly I don't know him that well so...
Sometimes you just have to hope for the best. Emily knows how to take care of herself. I'd like to think I taught her at least that much over the years. They're also running this whole auction thing pretty strict so that makes me feel slightly better.
Slightly. Don't fuck this up, Porter. I know we helped each other get in here, but so help me God if you do anything to hurt my little sister...
Less than a minute later, while Fiona and I are staring at the door waiting for someone to do something and open it, it just kind of opens on its own. Some guy standing outside nods and then I see Porter and my little sister come waltzing out of the room together.
That's not entirely accurate. Emily waltzes out of the room, happy as can be, but Porter looks like he's headed to some kind of trial by combat. His face is pale, eyes sullen, like his entire world is about to end. Emily grabs his hand and tugs him down the hallway to where Fiona and I are standing. Porter, to his credit, looks both intrigued and afraid for his life at the fact that he's currently holding my sister's hand.
Which is exactly how it should be. Good job, dude.
Fiona just keeps clinging to me, completely forgetting that we probably shouldn't be this close and cuddly in front of Emily. She belatedly realizes what's going on and her eyes widen in panic as Emily glances from her to me, my sister watching as Fiona squeezes her arms tight around mine.
“So... who's this?” Emily asks, sizing me up, suspicious.
I clear my throat, hoping to pull off some sort of gruff, deep voice that she won't recognize, but Fiona sneaks in quick and intercepts me.
“You know we aren't supposed to tell anyone our real names here, Alice!” Fiona says, sticking her tongue out, apparently using some fake name her and my sister came up with.
“So you're saying you don't know his name?” Emily asks, doubly suspicious.
“I mean, I know it, but I'm not going to tell you because it's against the rules.”
“I guess,” Emily grumbles, partially admitting defeat. “What am I supposed to call him, then? Doesn't he remind you of Grey? It's really weird. I don't know...”
I cock my head to the side. I can do this. I've decided sticking to one word answers is my safest bet.
“Who?” I ask, my voice rough and rugged.
I mean, let's be real, I'm pretty rough and rugged to begin with, but there's always room for improvement. I could be a lumberjack, for example. Never really wanted to be one before, but that's my inspiration for the night. Some rough and rugged college student who also just so happens to be a lumberjack.
Look, don't even ask. I have no idea how this works. I'm making it up as I go along.
“He's, um...” Fiona says, mind whirring with possibilities. “Dave?”
I nod. Yeah, sure, let's go with that. I can't say I've ever wanted to be a Dave before, but one night of it won't hurt.
“Dave...” Emily says, biting her bottom lip and giving me a suspicious look. “I guess. Um, so... this is...”
“Rupert,” Porter says, winging it.
Nice. I like it. He even got most of the letters of his real name in there. Good job, Porter.
“Rupert?” Emily asks, giggling. “You really want to go with that one?”
“Yeah, why not?” Porter says with a shrug.
“I like it,” Fiona says, grinning. “It sounds fun.”
“Oh, Rupert is definitely fun...” Emily says, as vague as possible.
Porter's eyes flash and he looks up at me like I'm about to murder him. I can't say I won't, either. It was nice knowing you Porter, but this is my sister we're talking about, so...
“We kissed!” Emily says, like she's just revealed something super scandalous.
Porter closes his eyes, waiting for my deathblow. It doesn't come, because... I mean, they kissed? I don't know. I'm protective of my little sister but I don't think I can murder someone in good conscience over a kiss. Also, from the sound of it she instigated this, so I can't blame him now can I?
I mean, I can. I'm not saying I'll never blame a guy if my sister kisses him first. I'm just saying that in this case I'm going to accept the fact that Porter likely didn't want to kiss her because he knew I was right here. So... if he did kiss her, it was probably under Emily's duress, except also, look, I want her to be happy, so...
Don't fuck this up, Porter. Make my little sister happy. Not too happy. Keep this shit PG-13 or something.
“Rupert's, um... he's a little shy, I think?” Emily offers. “We talked, too! Oh, he's in the same degree program as me. Isn't that cool? We can be study buddies!”
I raise one eyebrow, staring at my new friend.
“Uh, just studying!” Porter says quick. “Not, uh... you know... it's not like that.”
“What about kissing?” Emily asks, pouting at him. “You didn't like kissing me?”
Oh shit. I'm sorry, dude. This is the question of a lifetime. Answer carefully.
“I did, but... I just meant... I think we should get to know each other better, too?”
“Well, yeah,” Emily says as if this is obvious. “Which is also why you should ask me on a date in between our study sessions together.”
“And kissing,” Fiona adds, because she's being a huge brat. Seriously, I'm tempted to just bend her over my knee and spank her right here and now, except, you know, the fact that my sister is right next to us sort of puts a damper on that.
“So we study, and if we do good we kiss a little, and then we go on dates when we don't have to study, and then...”
“How about we go on a date now?” Porter asks, saving himself. “There's a party going on and we're all standing in this hallway talking when we could be dancing and having fun.”
Good job, Porter. I like the way you think. I don't know how I feel about the way Emily thinks.
Like, let's just go with this for a second, alright? Hypothetically speaking how many study dates and regular dates until we get to the x-rated “and then...” that Emily just mentioned?
I think fifty is a good number. Fifty to start, but probably fifty more after that. Let's make it a good and even five hundred. Five hundred dates and then, if everything's fine and dandy up to that point, then Emily and Porter can come talk to me about having sex. Except I'll say no, of course. Wait until you're married. Not just newly married, either. Maybe your five year anniversary. Make it real special, right?
I know I'm being unreasonable. I don't care.
Fiona cares and she somehow knows what I'm thinking, so she becomes a huge brat, playfully stomps on my foot, and glares at me with a silly face.
“I think you two look really cute together,” she says to Porter and Emily. “I bet Daddy would be super happy if you both started dating, too. He was talking to me about that kind of thing the other day, actually.”
I was? Hey, don't do this to me, Fiona. You're supposed to be on my side.
And, I mean, we have talked about that kind of thing, I guess. Not in any specific terms. It's more of a “Would you mind if Emily dated in college?” and I say, “Uh, yeah, college guys are awful, she can't do that.” Then Fiona tells me that all college guys can't be awful. There's got to be some good ones. And I admit there might be, but only like... maybe one in the entire college.
And here he is. Porter. The one nice guy in Emily's entire college. Why did I set them up? I'm really pissed off at myself now. I have no one to blame but me. Fuck.
“Who's Daddy?” Porter asks, confused. He turns to Emily, who is still happily holding his hand. “Your dad?”
“Um, that's kind of a long story,” Emily says, unsure how to proceed. “My parents died when I was little, and I don't want you to think I'm getting deep here. I don't really remember it too well. But my older brother, Grey, he took care of me and he's kind of been like my dad all these years so I call him Daddy and... Fiona does too, because he's nice to her and she doesn't really have anyone and Grey likes taking care of her.”
Which is true. I've just never heard my sister explain it that way before. I like taking care of Fiona? She's always made sure to remind me that I need to take care of Fiona. Take care of Fiona, Daddy! But I've never heard her say that she thought I liked it?
It just kind of makes me question some things. Mainly, uh... what does my sister know? Does she suspect something? Ugh. This is complicated.
Maybe Fiona and I should talk to her about all this soon. Not right now. I don't want to ruin my little sister's attempt at being a rebel and going to a frat party. Soon, though. Sometime after this weekend is over.
“Can we dance now?” Fiona asks, hopping up and down, still clinging to me. “I want to dance with Dave! He's so fun and nice and amazing, Emily.”
“Oh yeah?” Emily asks, grinning. “Better be careful, Dave. If you think Daddy's protective of me, you should see how he treats Fiona.”
Fiona blushes and mumbles and shakes her head fast. “Noooo! He's way more protective of you than he is of me.”
“Which is why you live with him and you two go everywhere together.”
“Because I'm helping!” Fiona protests. “I need to help out around the house or he'll think I'm taking advantage of him.”
“Su~re...” Emily says, sarcasm dripping from her words like thick syrup. “I'm going to tell Daddy about Dave tomorrow. Let's see how that goes.”
I shrug and grin right now, but... shit. What the fuck am I supposed to do tomorrow? Should I get mad at this made up Dave person or what? But Dave is me. Can I be mad at myself?
Sure, why not? I don't know. I'll figure it out when we get there.
“Dance!” Fiona says, bratty. “Please!”
I love her. I love her even when she's a huge fucking brat like she is right now.
I also love the fact that she seems to have forgotten that I'm going to be leaking out of her all night and dancing really isn't going to help that fact...
That's secondary, though. I just love Fiona and I'm happy I get to be here with her tonight, even if it's under odd circumstances and we can't exactly be open with everyone about the entire truth at the moment.
“Let's go,” I say, nodding to everyone, full force with my rough and rugged lumberjack voice.