8. DAMAGE CONTROL
DOMINIC
Hot. Damn.
Pandora is asleep, and I’m about to split, because after what just happened, I can’t remain this close to her.
I get dressed, shut the door quietly behind me, and leave. Her friends are back, so she should be fine. I’ve done what I can for her anyway: her back’s as loose as I can get it.
Fuck me.
I like this girl.
I get in the car and head to Nonstop Fitness. My gym bag is on the back seat, full of my sweaty-ass workout threads from earlier.
I enter and nod at the receptionist, whose slow blink reveals his need for a catnap. I stalk into the changing room and shudder as I pull on my damp, stinky clothes.
The machine room is void of club members. A swift glance at the wall clock tells me why. It’s the hour of the day when everyone sleeps. Or dies.
Four a.m.
I don’t warm up. Not that I usually do, but tonight—this morning—I start off sprinting on the stationary bike until I hit 230. Max pulse isn’t something I usually aim for, but I need to clear my mind.
The morning greys outside as I push 220 in weights. My arms rock over me on the bench.
“Dom, dude.” It’s Rob, my trainer pal. He’s got the graveyard shift.
“Yeah,” I puff.
“You didn’t get laid last night, did you?”
“I wish.”
“Um, you wish what?” Rob’s not the sharpest. The girls dig him, though. Probably the buzz cut.
“I wish that I didn’t get laid, Rob. Last night was too fucking awesome.”
Rob starts laughing. It begins slowly and pumps up full force until he’s roaring. Yeah, he’s a bit of an actor, which gets old pretty fast.
I ignore him, doing my thing until he dries an imaginary tear. Finally, he shuts the hell up, only to break into questions I don’t care for. “Liar. So why aren’t you with her if she’s that good? She married or something?”
“No, she’s not married! Never mind, dude. Got stuff to do,” I say.
“Like be at the gym instead of having another go at the lucky lady?” Rob smirks, thinking he’s being clever.
“Whatever. You mind?”
He shrugs his meaty shoulders as he plods off. Before he exits, though, he can’t hold back a last comment: “Weak, Dominic. I’d have done her all night.”
Later, I’ll head over to Elysium. It’s my day off, but I might check in with the missus, see if she needs anything. Like a round in the kitchen. Yeah, that should get my mind off things and leave me in shape to study for the rest of the weekend.
PANDORA
“Wifey!” Mica’s voice pierces through my sleep. She’s staring at me from the doorway, and I immediately remember last night.
Dominic!
My bed is empty. Seriously? I don’t know how to feel about that. I’d have asked him to leave—this was another mistake—but him sneaking out doesn’t sit right with me.
“So where’s the sex god?” She waggles her eyebrows.
“Came and left.”
Mica’s eyes widen. “Oh right, I forgot. Pan’s done with sleepovers.”
“Actually, I’m done with guys. I’m all about my studies, remember?”
“Which you keep forgetting, am I right?” She nods in concurrence even though I never agreed, and I wish her point weren’t so disturbingly true.
“Anyways. He came, gave me a massage—”
“With benefits, I assume?”
“Shut up. And then he left while I slept.”
“Nu-huh—no freaking way! Oh my God. He snuck off? Destiny!”
Great.
Minutes later, all my BFFs sit in my bed with two buckets of ice cream. They come prepared, assuming they need to comfort me. Who knew we even had ice cream?
My phone buzzes with Mom’s smiling face staring from the screen. Her eyes look manic, which suits her personality. I don’t pick up.
I won’t be impulse-texting Dominic anymore, and Mom’s my constant reminder of how important it is to stay on task, to not mess up.
Homework. I’ll dive into my shitload of calculus as soon as I’m back from the gym. This’ll be a great, efficient weekend. Anyone can start off on the wrong foot, right? As far as Dominic goes, we’re obviously in agreement about our little get-togethers. Hence his sudden departure.
Saturday trudges on, the highlight being the morning ice cream fest. Shannon comes along to the new gym. Hilarious how everything I do is on the “bad” side of town. My mom would hate this.
The gym itself is spacious and utilitarian, the way a gym should be, I guess. The colors flow between black and grey, with windows stretching floor to ceiling. Green plants soften the appearance somewhat, but it’s definitely a guys’ gym.
Shannon giggles. “Getting buff, much?” Oh yes, there’s lots of grunting and pumping iron going on around us.
“I know. Can you imagine what we’ll be like after a year in here?” I jerk my head in the direction of an anti-steroids poster with a skin-colored, female Hulk. “Let’s get started, sugar!”
Their enormous elliptical machines are of the Cadillac variety, so we need assistance figuring them out. Crew-cut trainer-boy has no problem with that. My eyes flick to his nametag. Rob.
Rob takes his time standing behind me and making my arms move with the handlebars like I’m three. He smells of roasted chicken, which makes me hungry.
He lets go once I’ve thanked him profusely enough, though, and Shannon bats her lashes at him until he backs away with a lopsided grin. “As I said—anything you need, just holler,” he repeats for the third time.
“Hollah back, girl,” I hum into Shannon’s ear, making her snort around the tip of her water bottle.
Two hours later, I sit on the bench in the sauna feeling fabulous; I’m not hurting. “So how about we go out tonight?” I ask. Shannon stares at my knee, which is bouncing fast. I expect her to comment on my too-energetic state.
“Heck yes,” she says.
“You want to?” I’m surprised. Miss Libra always tries to maintain balance in our lives, and yet now she wants to go out two nights in a row. “Sooo, was Christian there yesterday?” I ask.
She giggles again. Shannon is giggling a lot these days, which is strange, because she’s not the type.
“Dude’s turning you into a seven-year-old. Where’s my friend?” I exclaim dramatically to no one.
“Oh, shut up.” Still grinning, she smacks my arm. “Yeah, he’s… I like him. I think he got in trouble with his boss last night for spending too much time with me.”
“Ah,” I gasp. “I’ll have to give that boy a talkin’ to.”
Wow, her smile is so wide. She really does like him.
“You’re freaking crushing on him, aren’t you?” I burst out, and now I’m the one sounding like a second-grader.
“Oh, come on—I met him, like, yesterday. Are you in love with Dominic, for instance?”
I grimace. “Of course not. I just made a mistake.”
“Twice,” she quips.
“Whatever—anyway, that’s it for me. No more mistakes.”
“No more hot, delicious mistakes?”
“Will you stop, Shannon?” My body remembers, and I suck in my stomach in an effort to subdue the heat curling in it.
I need to get back home, because unfortunately the calculus won’t do itself. Both of my knees bounce now, and… yeah. I’d rather not study.
For some reason, I shout over the curtain separating us as we get dressed. “What’s a good time, you think? It’s five already; you want to head to Smother at nine or something? I gotta make it an early night so I can be awake for the calculus homework tomorrow.”
“Thought you were doing that today?”
“Yeah, well. Maybe I will, at least some of it, before we leave.”
“Aww, Wifey.” Mica puckers into a cherry-red pout and hugs me. She’s her typical, over-the-top self, as if she’s watching me board a flight out of her life forever.
“We’ll hold down the fort here, okay?” she sings.
“Yeah… Why’s that again?” Shannon and I are both puzzled. Since I’ve known Mica—a decade this June—she’s never turned down an opportunity to party. Whether it be birthday bashes at Chuck E. Cheese’s or sneaking off to frat parties while we were in high school, Mica and I have always been the same.
Destiny stands behind her. With the exception of their slight figures, they are night and day. Blonde, sparkly, blue-eyed Mica—and dark-haired, coffee-eyed Destiny with her quiet calm that never wavers.
“We’re tired,” Mica explains. I don’t buy it, but I’m so ready to party. Scheuermann has taken a break from my life, and I’m about to enjoy!
Mica might stay home, but she loves to do my makeup. She’s all about smoky eyes and deep red lipstick, and after a look in the mirror, I’m not complaining.
In the cab, Shannon and I give each other once-overs. I’m wearing black, knee-high platform boots with stiletto heels matched with a decent-length, black pencil skirt and a Levi’s jacket over my vintage Nirvana tee. The t-shirt is big, because it used to belong to Jacob. My hair I’ve got twirled in loose curls down my back.
“Damn, you’re hot tonight,” Shannon says. “Watch out, or you’ll make another one of those delicious mistakes.”
“Shush,” I say. Really, she can’t jinx me, because I’ll only be dancing my ass off and having fun. “Not happening.”
She’s mighty fine herself in a long, bottle-green velour-style dress that hugs her in all the right places. Shannon has morphed into a retro Little Mermaid with ruby pumps. Her green and rose makeup accentuates her ivory skin. We look like we’re going to completely different clubs!
Now, she’s squinting at me. “Maybe you’ll not make mistakes with Leon tonight?”
I groan. “Seriously. All I’m going to do is dance and people-watch.”