Charade

Before I head out I stop by Mom’s house. She sounded like shit when I talked to her on the phone today. I get a knot in my gut every time I think about seeing her and then I feel like a pussy because I’m her son and she’s dying. I should be able to handle it better than that. For her.

For some reason, my heart jackhammers when I step inside the apartment. I run a hand through my hair, which annoys the shit out of me. I hate nervous habits like that.

“She’s sleeping, Colton,” Maggie says from the kitchen.

I make a turn and head toward her. “How’s she doing? How’d her appointment go today?”

Maggie sighs. Her gray hair is tied back in a bun that disappears when she turns to face me. “They’ve added another medication. It’s stronger to help with the nausea and vomiting. Also more pain meds.”

I lean against the table. “Fuck.”

“Do you kiss your mama with that mouth?”

I know she’s trying to make me smile, but I can’t right now. “Not in the mood, Maggie.”

She walks over to me, a sad look in her dark eyes. I know this is almost as hard on her as it is me. She’s the best friend Mom’s ever had.

“How much, Maggie?”

“You don’t want to know, Colton.”

“And the lease is up in two weeks. You know they always raise the rent when it’s time to sign a new lease. Hospice will take care of the meds, I’m more worried about rent and bills.”

Will she need a new lease? As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I feel like the world’s biggest prick. She will. She has to.

“Fuck,” I ground out again. Does it ever stop? Jesus, she’s done nothing but try her whole life. She’s been there for me, worked her ass off and when she could have easily left me behind like Dad did. She didn’t. Not when Dad was in and out of jail. Not when we ate Top Ramen every day.

This is the payment she gets?

“I’ll pick up some more hours. Maybe do some odd jobs or something.” Maggie touches my hand and I say, “I should have gone. I was wasting my time in a stupid classroom today and I should have been with her.”

“You know she wants you in the classroom. You’re going to live her dreams and that’s what matters to her.”

I don’t reply to that, but say, “I’m gonna go in and see her.”

I make my way to Mom’s room. She’s lying in bed so still, looking ghost white. My heart drops somewhere to my feet. Holy shit, she looks dead. She can’t fucking be dead, can she?

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” Mom’s eyes flutter open. I let out a heavy breath.

“My mom tried to teach me manners, but they didn’t stick so well,” I tease as I walk into the room.

“Yes they did. You just like to pretend they didn’t.”

I pull up a chair beside her bed. It’s so different when they know you’re dying and they can’t do anything about it. No hospitals. All there is to do is wait. And medicate. Always medicate.

“How you feeling?” I’m not in the mood to pretend to be happy.

“Happy to see my son. What are you doing tonight? Have big plans with your friends?” There’s a small smile on her lips, but they’re dry. Too dry.

I pick up the cup from beside her bed. “Let me help you get a drink.” I put the straw by her mouth, but she shakes her head and a shaky hand grabs the glass.

“I can do it, Colton. I don’t like you having to take care of me.”

Someone should. She deserves it. It’s not like she hasn’t done it for others.

“I thought I’d hang with you tonight. Maybe watch a movie or something.”

Mom takes a small sip and I grab the cup from her, putting it back on the bedside table. “You’re not saying with me tonight. You go have fun. I’ll still be here tomorrow.”

Maybe.

“There’s nothing going on,” I lie.

“Liar,” she tosses back at me and her attitude does make me smile. “You’re covered in too much ink.” She slides her fragile finger down my arm. “You’re too handsome to be so covered up.” I open my mouth to reply, but she cuts me off. “Go out tonight. I’ll be fine. I want you to have fun. If you try to stay, I’ll make Maggie kick you out.”

I know her well enough to know she’s not screwing around. “Mom…”

“Colton…”

I shake my head at her. “I love you. Get some rest, alright?” I push to my feet. Mom smiles and it makes that knot it my gut multiply. Still, I listen to her and go.

***

Two kegs are in the living room—both with lines behind them, but in one line, everyone has cups and the other, they’re doing keg stands. Adrian’s bouncing on his heels beside me, his dark hair hanging in his eyes.

“I’m ready to get my party on. Find me a rich girl or two to have my way with.”

I try to laugh at him. “Multiples now?”

“There’s a first time for everything.” Adrian holds out his fist and I hit it.

“I need a drink.” We head through the room. I have a flask in my pocket, but I’d rather drink their shit than mine. The kitchen is our first stop. The fridge is packed with anything we could want to drink.

Bottles in hand, we go back toward the living room. My eyes scan the room looking for, hell, I don’t even know what. That’s when I see Princess walk in with two other chicks. The girls are holding hands and you can tell Princess is trying to keep some space from them. She obviously doesn’t want it known she’s here with them, but then I can’t help but wonder why she is.

Dollar signs pop into my head as she walks through the room, her head high with those slender legs. Her skirt is short. Her dark hair long and straight, but somehow looking like she spent hours on it. I think she’s Indian or something. Whatever the fuck she is, she’s gorgeous. And she offered me money that would probably help pay for my mom’s shit. Rent. Everything else.

Hell no. What am I thinking? I couldn’t go through with that. She’d drive me up the fucking wall.

“What ya looking at, man?” Adrian asks. I nod my head toward Princess. “Day-um.”

“No shit. She’s a spoiled brat though. She was doin’ that frat boy we got into it with.”

“Greg or whatever the hell his name is?”

“Yep.”

Which is another reason I can’t deal with her. I have too much on my plate to deal with a spoiled princess and her douchebag ex.

“I fucking hate that guy,” Adrian yells.

Him and me both.

Princess walks away and I forget about her. The bottle is in my hand, but I haven’t taken one drink. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me, but I’m just not feeling it.

It isn’t long before Adrian’s off with some chick. I’m wondering if I should do the same thing just to get my mind off stuff, every time someone comes up to me, I keep shooting them down.

I wander the place for an hour talking to people before I’m sick of the whole thing. I head outside when I see Princess without her two friends, but with the asshole Greg. My hands squeeze into a fist. Jesus, it would feel good to hit him. Hit something, anything, to see if it took any of the pain away. Instead I duck around the corner and wonder what the hell has gotten into me.

“Come on, babe. You know I love you. I was just screwing around with Maxine. You’re the one I want.”

“Then you shouldn’t have screwed around. You messed up, Gregory and I moved on.”

Ah, so she must have found her fake boyfriend. Or she has a real one. I can’t believe she wants to make this prick jealous so bad that she’d go there.

“I’m sorry. Damn you look sexy tonight.”

Again my hands fist. Even if I didn’t hate the guy, he’d deserve the shit knocked out of him right now.

“Too bad for you. You can look, but you can’t touch anymore.”

I’m surprised the princess has it in her. Most girls would fall down to whatever he says, but she’s standing her own.

“Cheyenne. Don’t be like this.”

“I—” she starts, but then she’s cut off and there’s a muffled sound.

I look around the corner again and he’s kissing her. Looks like she didn’t hold her ground for long. I’m about to walk away, when I see she’s trying to push him off her. Fucking prick. It’s going to feel good to hit this guy.

I head for them. I don’t get very far before she’s ripping herself away from him and a group of people walk around the corner closest to them.

“Gregory, what are you doing?” Some red-headed chick says. She’s surrounded by more of the frat guys.

“Just having a talk with Cheyenne. We had a few things to work out.”

The red head smiles. “I see you left your girlfriends behind. Is that who you were talking about? Playing for the other team now?”

Rolling your eyes is such a bullshit thing to do, but I do it anyway. Is that the best she can come up with?

“No, actually, I was trying to keep your boyfriend from kissing me.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. Princess has balls.

“What the fuck, Cheyenne!” Gregory says. His friends are all laughing. Red-head is scowling. And I can see the tenseness in Princess’s body.

“You know that’s not how it happened,” Greg adds. “Maxine, I didn’t try to kiss her, it was the other way around. I called her on the fake boyfriend and she kissed me.”

Then, I’m walking forward. I don’t know what in the fuck I’m doing, but I can’t stop myself. This guy is a prick. I need the money and I’d like nothing more than to kill two birds with one stone by scoring some cash and sticking it to him.

“Hey, you. There you are.” I step up beside Princess and wrap my arm around her waist. She tenses more, before looking over at me. There’s fire in her dark brown eyes, but she manages a smile.

“I was looking for you…”

Shit. She forgot my name. Leaning forward, I kiss the side of her mouth before she can reply. “You found me. Or I found you. Whatever it is, I’m here. Are these pricks bothering you?” I pull her to me and now the fire is directed at me. She’s pissed, but if I’m going there, I’m making this shit look real.

“Him? You’re dating this guy? He’s a loser, Chey.”

With that I step away from the princess and head straight for Greg. “You don’t want to piss me off tonight—actually. You do. I’m begging you to fucking piss me off, man. Give me an excuse to kick your ass again.”

The look on his face makes this whole charade worth it.

~CHAPTER SEVEN~

Cheyenne

Kick his ass again? Okay, so obviously Colt and Gregory have gotten into it, which as the ex-girlfriend of two years, I should probably know. He never even told me he’d gotten into a fight. Though I guess in the grand scheme of things that went on behind my back, this one is minor compared to the other.

Still… I hate fighting. Hate it, so I step between them, willing my anxiety to stay locked away. I stumble a little, the alcohol starting to affect me. “Okay, that’s enough of the testosterone fest, boys.” I look at Gregory. “Yes, I’m with him, though I’m not sure that’s your business.” For added effect I grab onto Colt’s arm. Or maybe it’s because I’m suddenly feeling a little woozy.

And, damn, are his arms firm. Does this boy live in a gym or something?

“G—honey, maybe we should go.” Red has her cocky smile. The one that says she thinks I’m out here pining for her boyfriend. That he’s being a gentleman by worrying about his poor, little ex-girlfriend.