Regan Wolfrom - Coyote

At least I didn’t need to guess how she felt about it.

By the time Lisa had pulled Graham aside and told him the story, it was almost seven at night, and we figured that it wouldn’t make much sense to be out hauling supplies in the middle of the night. We’d have to wait until morning.

Of course, there’s our weekly meeting in the morning… always at just the wrong time.

But I’d figure something out.

In the meantime, I could hear laughing from upstairs in Fiona and Kayla’s room. Not just the two of them, but another laugh that I hadn’t heard before.

I went upstairs to see.

They were in the middle of a movie night, having brought the big screen upstairs and planted it on Fiona’s desk. Fiona was sitting on the bed beside the red-haired girl, who was sitting up for a change.

Not only had no one invited me, but they’d decided to watch one of my old favourites.

Or maybe they’d picked it because they knew it would lure me in.

“ Anchorman ?” I said. “About time.”

Fiona shushed me as Ron Burgundy explained the German roots of San Diago.

I sat down on Kayla’s bed beside her.

She gave me a quick squeeze on the thigh and a warm smile.

I looked over to the red-haired girl and gave her a smile of my own.

She saw me and looked back at the screen. She didn’t seem to want to acknowledge me.

“I’ve never heard of that expression either,” Fiona said as she watched the movie. “When in Rome?”

I didn’t know how to answer that.

“Yazz flute?” she asked a moment later. “What’s that? I don’t really get this movie.”

“It’s an acquired taste,” I said. “Maybe you had to be there.”

“I can’t imagine you in one of those suits. Did you really dress like that?”

I laughed. “I’m not that old, Fiona. This is set in the 1970s. How old do you think I am?”

“Old enough to be born in the last millenium,” Kayla said. “That’s how old.”

“Fuck,” I said. “I am old.”

I noticed that the red-haired girl was glaring at me.

I decided to shut up for a while.

And I listened to them laugh, often at the wrong parts, like they found the idea of the movie trying to be funny a lot funnier than the actual jokes.

But it was still nice to hear Kayla and Fiona laugh.

The other laugh didn’t come back. The red-haired girl had withdrawn; she was still watching, but every few minutes she’d take a break from the movie long enough to give me an angry look.

She didn’t want me there.

But Kayla did.

She was making sure her body was pressed against mine, nuzzling her head against my shoulder.

Every so often I’d pull away a little, so that Fiona didn’t get the wrong impression.

Or maybe so Fiona wouldn’t figure out exactly what I was starting to feel.

Once the movie ended, the red-haired girl laid back down in Fiona’s bed.

Fiona seemed surprised by that, and stood up. “Aren’t we going to watch number two?” she asked.

“I’m tired,” the girl said.

“You can’t be tired, Gwyneth,” Kayla said. “Not when there’s more Ron Burgundy on the way.”

“Gwyneth…” I said. “So that’s your name…”

“I’m tired,” the girl said again.

“Maybe a drink?” Kayla asked.

“We can watch it tomorrow night,” Fiona said. “It’s okay.”

“I can make my famous nachos,” I said.

“I’m not interested,” the girl said.

“You don’t like nachos?”

“I’m tired… can everyone just let me get some sleep?”

“What’s going on, Gwyneth?” Fiona asked. “You were fine a few minutes ago.”

“No, I wasn’t fine,” she said. “I’m not fine. Can you get him out of here please?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not sure what I said…”

“Just get out of here!” she screamed.

“Calm down,” Kayla said. “Don’t yell at him.”

I got up off the bed and started walking out of the room.

“You don’t have to go,” Kayla said.

“I think you should,” Fiona said.

I left the room.

Kayla followed after me. All the way into my bedroom.

She closed the door behind us.

“I’m sorry, Baptiste,” she said. “I don’t know what that was about.”

“She doesn’t like me,” I said. “That’s okay. She isn’t the first person to take an instant dislike to someone.”

“It’s not okay.” She hung her arm over my shoulder. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Don’t… she’s been through a lot, Kayla. More than I think either of us could ever understand. If hating on me helps her… well, that’s fine.”

She nodded. “It’s too bad, though, eh?”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s pretty cute… you know, in spite of the whole vastly underweight thing.”

“I wouldn’t know…”

“Come on… I’ll bet you were delighted to add another girl to the mix. One more flavour for your collection.” She wrapped her other arm around me and started pulling down on my neck. She gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Don’t try and tell me you’re not interested in trying out a few new tastes.”

I took a step back. “You can’t do that, Kayla.”

“What?”

“You can’t just kiss me. You can’t keep touching me. You can’t do that.”

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I’m still with Sara. That hasn’t changed. And I’m pretty fucking old, remember?”

“I don’t care… about any of that.”

“What about Matt? Can’t you molest him or something?”

“I don’t want Matt,” she said. “I want you.”

“I can’t.”

“We’re here, Baptiste. Just do what you want.”

“I’m not sure what you’re expecting.”

She kissed me. “Like that.”

“Oh.”

“Well?”

I gave her a kiss.

Then another.

I wrapped my arms around her and lowered her onto the bed.

I grabbed her shirt and pulled it up over her head. I threw it on the floor.

I kissed her again.

She unclasped her strapless white bra.

I yanked it off of her.

I kissed her left breast and gently bit down on her nipple.

I’d thought about doing that since that day I’d watched her dance.

I dragged my lips down her stomach, kissing as I went.

I undid the button on her pants. I pulled down the zipper.

There was a knock on the door.

“Baptiste?” Fiona said. “Can I come in?”

“Shoot,” Kayla said in a whisper. “Tell her to go away.”

“I’m in the middle of something,” I said. “I’ll be out in a little bit.”

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine.” I said it a little too harshly.

The door opened.

And Fiona saw us.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Oh, no…”

“Get out, Fiona,” Kayla said, her breasts still exposed.

“Oh, no…”

“I’m sorry, Fiona,” I said as I climbed off the bed.

“Why the hell are you apologizing?” Kayla asked. “She’s the one who barged in.”

Fiona was still standing in the doorway, her lips mouthing the same two words over and over again.

“You can go now, Fiona,” Kayla said.

Fiona didn’t move.

“ Gawd, ” Kayla said. She threw her shirt on and stormed out, leaving the bra on my bedroom floor.

“Fiona,” I said.

She didn’t answer.

“Fiona.”

“How could you do this?” she asked.

“I don’t know…”

“Do you even care about Sara at all? Do you even care about me?”

“What does this have to do with you?”

“I hate her. And Sara hates her. But you just couldn’t stop yourself. I can’t believe this.”