16
Introducing: Hellcat
It’s Wednesday, and I’ve been summoned to meet Keaton and a few buddies at Brass Tapps to play trivia. With the girls away, Keaton’s team consisted of pretty much just him until he recruited our friends Philip and Brody, plus Tristan—his buddy from work—then me.
We’ve just finished eating and shooting the shit over a couple of beers, and now the game’s about to get underway. From what I can tell, Tristan is really the only one Keaton needs to take the prize home—the guy is full of useless information. Glancing at my phone for the hundredth time today, I wonder what Eastlyn is up to right now. We’ve been messaging on and off throughout the week, but we’ve yet to chat today, and I’m getting antsy to hear from her. I texted her a while ago, telling her I was coming tonight and for her to have fun today. They were going shopping in some town near Cancun with a bunch of other tourists from the hotel.
“That’s Helen Hunt,” Tristan says, interrupting my thoughts as he points at the Picture Round page we’re working to fill in before the final round. The question asks, “Whose eyes are these?” and showcases a cropped headshot of a pair of some woman’s eyes.
“Yeah, I agree,” Brody adds, and Keaton fills it in before looking at me.
“You with us tonight, Coy? She’ll be home in three days, you know,” Keat laughs.
Oh, trust me, I fucking know. I’ve been counting down the hours.
“Shut. Up.” I take a pull from my pint of Goose Island.
“Touchy,” he says, and the guys all laugh.
“As if you’re not pining away for your little running buddy, Keaton. You aren’t fooling anyone at this table, either. Too bad you’re too pigheaded to admit what we all know.”
“It’s true,” says Philip, “it’s like a perpetual game of foreplay with you and Kam. Aren’t your balls purple by now?”
“Fuck off. We’re friends. It’s good the way it is.” Keaton waves Sandy over and orders another round.
“I have to make a call. I’ll be right back.” I stand, picking up my cell from the centre of the table.
“Hurry up,” Keaton calls. “And tell my sister how pussy-whipped she has you while you’re talking to her.”
I flip him off as I walk out front for some quiet. I’m actually about to call my brother, Rory. I just remembered he’d asked me to call him back in his message when I’d missed his call earlier. He’d needed my input about a possible birthday gift for our mother. A task I’ll gladly let him take on, said it was pretty important.
Stepping into the bar’s foyer, my phone buzzes again and a wave of excitement rushes through my body, thinking that this time it must be Eastlyn. I’m quickly disappointed again, however, when I see it’s only Kami.
But when I tap the phone’s home button, I see that I’ve picked up the wrong phone. The one in my hand is Keaton’s, and it’s apparently not password-protected. So, like the nosy shit I am, I tap the message app to read what Kami has messaged Keaton.
I can’t say I’m surprised to see that there are a lot of messages between these two. Reading back for some ammunition of my own to use against Keaton, I smile, seeing that my friend might easily be as whipped as I am. Except where I own it, he’s completely in denial.
I read their texts from Saturday morning…
Keaton: Tell me when you land safe, pls
Kami: Why? Get East to message you.
Keaton: Just do it, Kam.
Kami: And if I don’t?
I laugh out loud, seeing exactly why East and Kam are friends. They’re both pains in the ass.
Keaton: I’ll hop on the next fucking plane, Hellcat.
“Hellcat”? Well, that’s new. I can definitely use that shit.
Kami: Easy, killer. I’ll message you. Wouldn’t want you coming here to interrupt me from going native ;)
Keaton: Not fucking funny, Kamilla.
Kami: I think it is. Boarding.
Keaton: Safe flight. Message me.
Kami: Yes, boss! SMH
Nothing going on, my ass. I read on…
Kami: Landed. Heading to hotel.
Keaton: Now was that so hard?
Kami: You’re annoying.
Keaton: Thanks for the message, baby, be safe.
“Those lying shits,” I mutter.
My eyes scan the newest message…
Kami: I’m drunk, and I miss u. But in the morning when I look, I’ll remind myself u rd this. then I’m gonna pretend you deleted it like it didn’t happen. And—like Voldemort—we’ll never mention it again. Okay?
These two are as fucked as East and I were. I shake my head and walk back inside to our table.
“Everything all right?” Brody asks.
“Yeah, I was going to call my brother back, but I grabbed the wrong phone.” I nod to the table where four identical black iPhones sit. “We need to get cases or something. Anyway, here, Keat. I had yours.” I drop it in his hand.
“Yeah, I caught that when I picked up what I thought was my phone when it rang and Eastlyn couldn’t figure out how she misdialed. She said to tell you she’s in her room for the night, and to call her after we kick ass in trivia.”
“Perfect, thanks.” I sit back down, a familiar feeling of contentment taking over, knowing I’ll get to talk to her later. I’m back just in time as Jenn taps her mic and is about to start her weekly spiel before officially starting the next round. I lean towards my friend. “Oh, I almost forgot, Keaton. There’s a new message from your little Hellcat on there. Might be a few by now, your phone was going off like crazy when I was on my way back,” I tell him, a shit-eating grin on my face, because while the game is on there’s no cell phone use permitted until the next break (and we can thank the lame asses who decide to cheat and look up the trivia answers on their phones for that rule).
“Asshole,” he says, looking like he’s going to crawl out of his skin, unable to check his phone now that I’ve told him Kami’s messaged him or our team might get disqualified.
“Who the heck is ‘Hellcat’?” Philip asks, and—being the shit I am—I ask him, too.
“Yeah, Keat. Tell us about this Hellcat of yours.”
“She’s not mine,” he says, and moves his gaze over to Jenn, the Quiztress, praying for her to ask the next question to distract us, I bet.
I sit back and laugh, assessing him, before leaning in again and whispering, “Funny, Keat. I think we both know she’s totally yours.”
“Piss off and play the game, Coy.”
“Easy, Tiger,” I bark out with a laugh, “or do you go by something else?” Even though I know he’s getting pissed, it makes him laugh anyway.
“Whatever, man. You know we’re just friends.”
“Yeah, I used to say that about your sister…” I smirk.
Our team spends the next thirty minutes answering the questions, and when the next break comes Keaton bolts out of his chair like he’s been electrocuted, suddenly needing to run out and make an important phone call.
I type a quick message to Eastlyn, needing her to know she’s on my mind.
Me: I hate waking up to thoughts of you and finding an empty space beside me. Nothing compares to having you physically there with me. I miss you in my bed.