Rox

“Oh come on and stop sulking. It was just a little cleaning,” Mari whines, making my eyes blaze hotly as anger rises up.

It’s been three days since I had to….stop, never think about that again, Rox. The nightmares will end eventually.

“Sulking? You think I’m sulking! You weren’t there,” I huff, ignoring the joggers as I wrap my coat closer to my body and sip at the hot chocolate Mari bought me as a peace offering.

Snort. If only she knew the thoughts I’ve had about her late at night when I can’t stop remembering. But she’s pregnant. Murder will have to wait.

“I’m sorry! I panicked and Lizzie, she scares me, Roxy.”

“Asshole.”

“You still wuv me?”

“Barely, and only because that whole episode got me into Ty’s apartment the other night.” I grumble, feeling a sweet glow take hold of me at the memory of him running me another bath, this time with instructions to wash my hair well.

After that he fed me. Pizza. Possibly the only thing that could have gotten me to eat again in this lifetime. Being with him, alone and nestled into his side while he comforted me was so good I didn’t even keep entertaining thoughts of sneaking into bedrooms in the dead of night and-

Let’s just say I was in heaven. When I was finally ready to sleep he let me fall asleep in his arms and carried me to his bed. I swear I hardly even minded the reek of Stinker at that point, because let’s face it, my nose will never be the same. All I felt was happy as he put me to bed. In his bed. That smelled like him and every dirty fantasy I have ever had.

It sucked that he slept on the couch, but I can deal right. I man one baby step at a time.

“Aw! That is so sweet. Come on. Spill it. Did you two…?” she asks, wiggling her brows suggestively.

“Mari, he found bowel corn in my freaking hair and had to help me pick out things that I could not even identify.” I say darkly. “No. We did not have sex. Hell, I was just grateful he’d touch me at all by that point.”

Which makes me love him more.

“Agh. I don’t get it. He likes you, you like him. What is the hold up here?” she huffs, shoving a whole cupcake into her gaping maw.

“He’s still shy about his face or something. I don’t know.” I sigh, dejected all over again because while we’re friends and he talks to me, it’s just…platonic.

He still turns away from me a little to avoid letting me see his face fully and never ever lets me hug him on that side. Honestly, I don’t know if Ty will ever get over that hang up and it kills me.

I think he’s hot. I mean obviously. I’ve been sinning with his freaking shirt for a while now and after sleeping in his bed, I totally sinned hard last night.

“Men. Christ what is it with them huh? I mean they’re so freaking sensitive and they say chicks are emotional. You know Gray cries when we watch grey’s anatomy? It’s gross!”

“You cry.”

“Yeah, because Christina left and every time I remember my heart just breaks all over again. I had a mega lesbian crush on the surly sexpot and watching Meredith try to carry that show is just fucking tragic!”

I bite my lips to stop from laughing and shake my head to the idiot who is my family, my best friend and maybe soon to be lost body, depending on my anger levels in a few months.

“I liked the baby Grey one. She was crazy.”

“When she died her hair blonde? Naaaaasty. Now that little redhead….rawr.” she growls, licking her lips obscenely. “I could so eat a ginger snap if she was on the menu.”

“Jesus, Mari, our mothers have red hair.” I moan, gagging at the visuals.

Mari pauses for a second to think that over and then shudders hard enough to spill her hot chocolate.

“Ugh. Thanks a lot! Now I’ll have to remove her from my desktop screen saver. But whatever, what is up with this whole Ty thing? Ball up Rox or as Tink would say, get your muffin some loving.”

I want to, believe me I want to if only for the purpose of getting Finn and his tantric sex moves scrubbed from my brain. But I can’t because I’ve been here before, wanting someone I couldn’t have, telling myself that if I try just little harder, work harder, be better, I can win.

It’s a mantra I’ve lived by my whole life after the doctor diagnosed me with childhood asthma and told me sports was not in the cards for me. I fought like hell to do what I wanted, not because it was all that important to me or anything, but because having people tell me I couldn’t do something just set me off.

It was so bad poor mama ran along the side lines at every game, panting, huffing and looking like death was chasing her just to keep that asthma pump close to me at all times.

I beat that shit. Mama told me a year later when the doctor was shocked at my lack of breathing restriction I was just like her and never gave up. Scared me a little, I won’t lie but I was victorious and have been going at things with a hard determination ever since.

Or I did. Until I met Riley.

He was good looking in a blonde, preppy way with big grey eyes that made my knees weak and a smile that made me want to swoon at his feet. I was so hot for him at one point I ignored all the office rumours and just refused to see what a sleaze ball he was.

No matter what the other girls said, I was hooked and when he finally noticed me I was so happy I was practically begging him to own me. And own me he did.

For almost a full year I lived, ate and breathed Riley. Our relationship, while not quite conventional was one of the happiest times of my life. I spent six days a week over at his place, only going back to my crappy apartment on Sundays to do laundry and clean up before I saw him again at work.

To say I fell in love is like….

I didn’t fall. I exploded in lust and love and all those feelings that should have had my alarm bells ringing because it was so immediate. It was an atomic bomb blast of love on my part and for the longest time I really think Riley did love me.

So what if he always flaked when I had to go to mama’s for dinner on Saturdays. I told myself that meeting the parents was a stressful thing, that I was moving too fast and Riley was right, we should just enjoy being together first.

I told myself it didn’t hurt when he didn’t want me to meet his family because he was probably as nervous about it as I was. I mean come on…I was shit scared of what he’d think when he finally met my crazy kin.

I even told myself it didn’t rip my heart out when he’d go away some weekends to visit his family and never once invited me along, just left me hanging alone, waiting for his calls.

Hell, I think I’d have excused anything and everything that happened if not for the fact that I caught him screwing Tina the copy girl in the staff lunch room one night while working late.

Now that you can’t excuse and it taught me something. Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, a game is not meant to be won. It also had me doubting myself for the longest time and steering clear of any and all civilians to the point that I almost convinced myself I wanted to marry Harvey Kine, a Irish boy who works with Ing’s brother Obin.

For the longest time I was immersed in what mama considers heaven, dating boys with a love for polyester, brown socks and hair grease. And I was…happy. They were real and honest to within a fault. With boys from my neighbourhood I never had to worry that they didn’t want me meeting their families, as if I wasn’t good enough.

Heck, Harvey took me to his folks’ house for our first date because none of them believed I’d actually said yes and he wanted to rub it in their faces. True, I mean he’s not exactly eye candy with that lanky, tall, rail thin body, page boy hair cut that falls in stick straight fingers passed his ears.

And his penchant for knock off track suits in loud colours is so un cool I can’t help but find it adorable. He once told me he knew I was way out of his league but he didn’t care because he liked me so much it was okay that I was too pretty for a guy like him.

See? A good guy. A strong guy. A guy who has a lot of moral character, even if he likes Crocs and gold chains that weigh more than I do.

And one of my best friends after I set him up with a Gillian, a girl I know from work. They’re married now with one of his polyester bound babies on the way.

But, see, that right there being with a guy like Harvey was what saved me after Riley. I realized that I didn’t have to limit myself with men. I’m not a whore, so don’t go assuming anything! What I mean is that when I was younger I was bound and determined to go for guys who were the exact opposite of the boys I grew up with. Opposite of dad and Ian and Mitch in a way that would ensure that I got out of the cycle.

So I went for preppy boys, men with ‘class’. Guys who don’t have a pair of brown socks anywhere in sight and only wear black with dress pants and shiny shoes.

Riley taught me that a man is not made by his suit or monetary worth or even the way he walks. No, because in the end I ended up heartbroken, a little dented and working for a man who still looks at me like he knows what my vagina looks like.

What! You thought I would just tuck tail and run? Not likely. My mama didn’t raise no weak fool and I am proud to say that after Riley got promoted and I ended up as one of his PA’s, he drinks a lot of extras in his coffee.

“Rox. Damn girl, snap the hell out of it and stop daydreaming.”

I sneer at Mari but pull myself together just in time to see a particularly skinny jogger bouncing by, her rail thin legs at odds with the mammoth melons slapping her in the nose with every steps.

“Silicone kills!” Mari yells, making me giggle when melon tits stutters a step before flipping her the bird and bouncing off.

“Now. Ty.”

I groan at her persistence and finish off my chocolate before tossing the cup into the trash and leaning back.

“Agh! There isn’t anything there Mari, trust me. I have hinted. I have spent so much time at his apartment being gassed by Stinker it’s a wonder my hair still grows right. And I’ve tried to make him jealous with Finn. Nothing works babe. The man has friended me to within an inch of my pathetic existence.”

“Because hints do not work with men, Roxeletta! You have to school them. You have to take out a freaking billboard ad before they get the message. Trust me, I know. Gray still doesn’t get why I kick him in the nuts in the morning when he wakes up.”

“I don’t get it,” I gasp, holding my own crotch because Mari knows how to kick and I know now that not only balls hurt.

Trust me. If you get enough torque and velocity, vaginas cry too. Mari’s proven that to me a lot over the years.

“He keeps pissing on the freaking toilet seat!”

“So tell him not to. Why kick him in the dick.”

That has Mari smirking and my groan going strong.

“If it hurts enough he has to sit while he tinkles.”

Her cackles make me fear for Gray’s continued potency but I ignore that issue because honestly, Mari is a hoot. And besides, it’s not my dick she keeps kicking.

“Aaand, I squatted over the seat right before and left my own trail for him to enjoy.”

“Gross. How’d you even…” I motion at her slight belly.

“I told you, I squatted. Almost fell and pissed all over myself but it was so worth it when he howled in disgust and had to wash his ass in the bath tub. I laughed. And laughed. And laughed. But the kicker? He still doesn’t get it. See? They don’t take hints Rox. You have to be honest with the man.”

Gulp.

“I can’t! What if he doesn’t want me that way?”

I’d die of mortification and mama…she’d never let me live it down.

“Bullcrap. That man has it so bad for you he probably beats off calling your name.”

“Mari.” I gasp, blushing because I hope it’s true.

If it is, I don’t have to feel like such a loser doing the same thing. With that shirt.

“Pfft. You know it’s true.”

“No, I really don’t. He hasn’t once made a move on me, not one. I straight up ballgazed him at your wedding and the man didn’t so much as get a dick twitch.”

“Semantics. Maybe he has super control. Just make a play. What are you, scared?”

“No.” Yes. Asshole. “I’d just really like to avoid making a fool of myself for a man I have to see on a weekly basis for the rest of my life Mari. Christ, Ing has no shame and she still wants to crawl into a grave when she sees Brad Smith at the grocery store with his wife and kids.”

Ingram once had this really big crush on Brad Smith, the school’s resident bad boy and pro hackey sack player. Coming from our neighbourhood if you had that sport down you were a god among men. Don’t ask me why, it just was that way. She was so in love, or lust, or whatever it is that Ing is capable of feeling for a human being she asked him out on a date and then proceeded to tell him how much she loved him after he said the words, …..love….

Now Ing only heard that one word and took that ball, running, hurtling, sprinting…

Turns out Brad was saying ‘I can’t Ing, sorry but I’m seeing Helen and I love….you can fill in the rest.

I mean it wasn’t all that bad. At least not at that point but Ing went a little weird after that and was convinced she could win him over and steal him away from his girlfriend. Cue stalker like behavior and the really sad truth that Ingram doesn’t understand what is and is not frightening.

Waiting for a guy in your car in a dark parking lot and leaving notes on his windshield that read ‘I can’t stop watching you’ is scary.

I told her elaboration is necessary if you don’t want charges filed but Ing’s got a bit of a problem with writing thanks to dyslexia so she’s always veered towards short notes, that get the point across according to her.

She almost cried when Brad married Helen. And sent the cops to her mama’s house when he figured out she was the one watching him. That is a whole nother story though. I don’t have time to go into it all. The point is, putting yourself out there is scary and I don’t think I can do it. Not with Ty.

Because the truth is that I love him so much it would definitely kill me if he didn’t want me back. Plus, I mean the whole family would never let me live it down.

“He’s got these hang ups about his looks and then…”

I also can’t forget that Ty is rich and comes from like super posh people. What if he’s not into me because it would embarrass him to introduce me to his family?

Blay, I don’t think he’s quite normal so I can’t even use him as an example for normal rich guys and Gray….definitely not normal if he loves Mari who torments him on a daily basis.

“Coward.”

“Fat ass.”

“Baby.”

“Mari.”

“I’ll take you a thousand dollar bet you’re too freaking chicken to make a move on Ty.”

Damn my competitive spirit!

“You’re on.”