Chapter 10
Valentine
Past
Arsen teased me even more, but I quickly hopped off him. I wanted to go further, but I was just terrified to do so. We came so painfully close to kissing so many times, that I had whatever blue balls was for girls. I wanted to jump him the whole time, but I was too nervous.
Arsen picked up on that and didn't force me to do anything. We didn't do anything more than soak and flirt. We barely even drank the terrible beer that Arsen stole from the party.
I didn't know if it was because we were breaking so many social rules by being together like we were, but there was something magical about the whole thing. I did know that today would go down as one of the best days of my life.
“Hey,” I said, grabbing his hand before we left Marcus's family gazebo. “It really sucks that you're going to have to leave when your dad gets back.” A long pause followed until I could muster up the courage to say what was really on my mind. “I don't want you to go. I'm... I'm really going to miss you, y'know.”
Arsen turned fully toward me, as if to give me all of his attention. He smiled sharply with confidence, as was his default look, then it softened, but just for a moment.
“I know.” He pulled my hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss. The moment passed just as quickly. He slipped behind me to grab his jacket, then whispered into my ear, “Everyone will.”
“You jerk!” I shoved him away, trying not to smile at him.
Arsen laughed, then gave me a quick wink that said he was only joking, at least about the last part. Just looking at him, I could somehow feel it.
He was going to miss me too.
We left in the early afternoon so that we'd have time to dry our clothes in the dryer before Arsen's mom came home from work. Arsen's mom did administrative stuff off campus for our school. She was super nice, but I didn't think even she would approve of us bailing on classes to break into a Jacuzzi and drink beer.
Marcus' house was a half hour away from Arsen's so he had 'borrowed' his dad's truck to get us there and back. What Arsen didn't realize, was that we needed to put gas in it on the ride home and of course we didn't bring any changes of clothes. I couldn't help but laugh as Arsen was forced to pump gas in a soaked white towel.
When he went in to pay, the late November chill had formed frost on his butt. He got a lot of stares from the clerk, but in true Arsen fashion, he just shrugged it off. He might have acted too cool for cold, but I could tell from the way he stiffly jogged back to the car ,that he was freezing his balls off.
“Are they still attached?” I asked, flicking my eyes down to his crotch when Arsen got back into the nice, warm truck.
“Larry and Barry are holding on for dear life.” Arsen was shaking when he started the car. I giggled at the names. It was rare that I could call him adorable, but this was definitely one of those moments. He turned to me and winked, his teeth chattering from the cold. “Still totally worth it.”
We got to his house soon after, then ran for the door like our lives depended on it. It was the first time I'd ever actually been inside. When we walked to school together, I'd always waited for him to come out.
His house was a lot smaller than mine, but so much warmer. Not physically of course, but with the embarrassing pictures on the mantle, wedding invites stuck to the fridge with magnets and worn in couches, it felt like there was a family living there.
My father hired a Feng Shui interior designer for our mansion. We had these massive empty spaces with giant tapestries, sparsely decorated with barely functional furniture and various props and awards from the films my father worked on. I had no idea what he was going for unless my father asked for a cavernous, shrine look.
Romeo barked from the other room and jumped up on me, I couldn't not rub his belly. I liked Arsen's house better, I sighed. Seeing what a family was supposed to look like, made me wistful. I wondered what my house might have looked like if my mom were still alive.
Arsen gave me some of his mom's clothes to wear while mine dried. I was changing in the bathroom when I heard the knock at the door. Panicked, I started looking for a place to hide. Did the bathroom have a closet?
Arsen seemed more concerned than worried. He assured me that his mom was at work and that no one else should be coming over. He opened the door to find two men dressed in white hats and black and blue uniforms with ribbons on their chests.
Marines! Arsen said his father was in the Marines. I didn't know anything about the military except that my father had a general disdain for servicemen and that I wasn't allowed to join any branch. But what could they be doing here?
“Is Pamela Constantine available?” Asked one of the men. They were rigid and professional and had a sad grimness to them. I had no idea why, but my stomach turned at the sight of them, at what they were about to say.
This can't be good news.
“No. She's at work, I can take a message...” I'd never seen Arsen so hesitant, it really unnerved me for some reason. “I'm her son, Arsen.”
The man who spoke earlier frowned deeply, then began, “Son, it is with great regret that we have to inform you—”
“My father... He's dead, isn't he?” Arsen asked, his tone was distant and hollow. He knew what this was, he'd probably run through this scenario a million times in his mind, every time his dad was deployed.
“Yes,” the man said. “I'm sorry.”
But to have it actually come true... My heart broke for Arsen.
Present.
His Mustang was insanely fast! There were a couple times that I thought we'd fly off the road and never come down.
I couldn't help think about what he said about his cock overcompensating for his car and then how it felt in my hand. I swallowed hard, trying not to get worked up, but I could barely wrap my hand around it in the Jacuzzi. My pussy was wet again at the thought of that sliding into me, splitting me in half...
“Your dad said she was stable?” Arsen abruptly asked. His voice was so much sterner now than it was just a short time ago.
“Huh?” Dammit, Val, focus! I cleared my throat and shook the thick image away. “Yes! Yes. He said she's beaten up a bit, but it wasn't life-threatening.” I looked at him, but he was singularly focused on the road. “She's going to be alright, Arsen.”
He only nodded slightly in response. I could only imagine what was rushing through his head. First his dad, then— No. Pamela is going to be alright. She had to be.
It was a five hour drive to the hospital in NYC, but somehow Arsen made it in just over three. When we got to Pamela's room, she was asleep and in stable condition. She was bruised and battered, and generally in rough shape. The constant whir and beeps of the various machines she was hooked up to, painted a horribly real picture of what a car crash can do to someone.
And my father, her own husband, was nowhere to be found.
Arsen stepped out into the hallway and grabbed the arm of one of the passing nurses. “Where the hell is Hugh?”
“Beg your pardon?” The nurse was taken aback by Arsen's directness.
“Pamela Dawson's husband.”
“Oh, Mr. Dawson arrived shortly after she was brought in. He signed some paperwork, but didn't stay long.” An alarm in another room forced the nurse away before Arsen could ask her any more questions.
Arsen was livid, his knuckles flexed like he was just aching to hit something.
I called my father again, he still wasn't answering. From what he told me earlier, Pamela was being driven to a restaurant to meet him when she was run off the road by some 'crazy man'. There feels like there's more to this story, but I never know with him. He's an actor after all, and a frustratingly good one.
“It's going to be alright.” I told Arsen. I moved to touch his hand and then caught myself. There might be people watching.
He was lost in thought, but I had no idea what he was thinking. Seeing the pain in Arsen's face made me feel ashamed. I wanted to touch him, to hug and kiss him and tell him not to worry, but the nagging realization that we were back in public stopped me. There was a fine line between consoling a sibling and a lovers embrace.
I guess my father had taught me well.
That thought was immediately followed by a wave of nausea. Even in the wake of tragedy, I couldn't shake worrying about my public image.
Arsen just frowned and pulled away. He wasn't the type of person who asked for, or allowed any emotional or physical help. He folded his arms and walked back into his mother's room. I stayed in the hallway and watched him go, feeling heavy and horrible.
Now that I was back in the real world, I was paralyzed by the thought that someone might be watching or photographing me. I couldn't help it. Throughout the entirety of my whole life, my father drilled one concept into my head.
'You are whatever the public says you are. And as an actor, you live with the shadow of scandal looming over you at all times. Valentine, you are only one mistake away from ridicule, then obscurity.' Hearing my father's voice in my head made me shiver with anger.
My phone mercifully lit up with a message from my friend, Marcy. She'd arrived at the hospital with some dry clothes for us. We were in such a rush earlier that Arsen hadn't stopped for a change of clothes. We were both still damp from the Jacuzzi.
Marcy was flirting with the security guard when I finally found her. She flipped back, and twirled a strand of her luscious dark brown hair, laughing. It wasn't even dawn yet and Marcy looked amazing. Strapless dress, flawless makeup and hair, I could never tell if she was going to a party or coming from one. I guess it didn't matter, she always looked perfect. She gave the absolutely smitten security guard a final wink and sauntered over to me.
I'd known Marcy since high school, although she didn't actually go to my school. She toyed at the idea of becoming an actor, but decided to go the modeling route instead. Modeling fit her showy personality really well, she wore the lifestyle like a sexy bikini.
“Oh, my dear, Valentin-a!” Marcy hugged me, worry marred her immaculate face. I rolled my eyes at the horrible nickname she made for me ages ago, but she was really helping me out so didn't want to scold her for it. “You look simply atrocious.”
I was insulted, but she was right. I felt like an absolute mess. I was still in my waterlogged dress from the party I’d gone to. My hair was flattened, frizzy, and pulled back. I wasn't even wearing underwear anymore, which, although I was still covered, made me feel super exposed.
“Thanks, Marcy,” I said, dryly. I took a breath, letting my annoyance drain away, then smiled at her. It was nice of her to interrupt her, probably fabulous, plans to come to the hospital for me. “You're a lifesaver.”
“Of course! Is your stepmom ok? It's all over the news.”
“She'll be alright, she just needs to rest.
“Ok, so, here's the clothes for you.” Marcy handed me a shopping bag. How she was able to go shopping at this time of the morning, I'll never know. Then she handed me a second bag. “And these, I assume are for your crazy, hot stepbrother. Is he single yet?”
“No.” The word vomited out of me. What the hell was that? Am still I jealous? “I mean, I don't know. Maybe?”
“Valentine, I'm tots angry at you for keeping him all to yourself.”
“What?” My eyes flared and I began to flush. What had Marcy heard?
“I know, I know. He's your bodyguard, but have you seen his cock yet? Y'know by accident, or whatever?” She shrugged and smiled, then licked her lips. “I'm just saying, I bet it's probably huge.”
“Marcy...” I sighed, feeling relieved. She was just being her pervy self. For a moment I thought I was busted.
“Sweet Valentine, wouldn't dream of such a vile act.” Marcy put the back of her hand to her forehead and feigned squeamishness. “A body like his and I wouldn't care if he was my real brother, I'd let him fuck me into a wheelchair. I'm wet just thinking about him,” Marcy fanned herself. “Is that weird?”
“Oh my God!” My eyes shot wide in disbelief. “Why am I friends with you?”
“But seriously, Valentin-a, you'd better give him my number, or our BFF status on Facebook becomes 'it's complicated,' real quick.”
“Marcy!” It was completely selfish, but there was no way in hell that I would ever let Arsen near Marcy.
I couldn't shake the vivid image of the us together in the Jacuzzi earlier. What he said to me, raised my skin with goose bumps. 'How many times do I have to tell you, Val? You belong to me.'
“It's— It's just not a good time right now.” I swallowed, hoping that the heat flushing to my face wasn't visible. “Marcy, we're in a hospital.”
“Yeah, the stepmom thing, super sorry! I just figured it wasn't a huge deal. Your dad already did a YouTube press conference about it. Just a fender-bender, right?”
“He did what?” Is that why he wasn't here or answering my calls! He was too busy addressing his fans than concerning himself with his family. And that was no 'fender-bender', Pamela was really hurt! My father could be such a fucking monster sometimes.
“Hugh said you'd be talking about it during your Late Show interview later tonight.”
“He said what!” I was beginning to sound like a broken record. That show was fifteen hours from now! Not even a day away and my father was already making promises on my behalf. I couldn't believe it. I'd completely forgotten about that stupid interview! Now that he said that, I might not even be able to cancel it.
I couldn't care less about promoting my latest movie, all I wanted to do was to stay here with Pamela and Arsen. They're the ones that needed me, not the Late Show Live. It's either being there for my family, and whatever Arsen was to me now, or damaging my career. If I broke the contract I'd be banned from that show.
Everything used to be so much simpler...