A. Colucci - Seeders

“Just the island. He lost the family fortune years ago, trying to finance his research.”

“Maybe he had money you didn’t know about. Stocks. Jewelry.”

She squinted. “There was a very expensive diamond, but I’m sure he’d have sold it by now.”

“Well, I’m making some calls tomorrow. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Don’t bother. I’m going.”

He took a threatening step toward her. “You’re not going. End of discussion.”

“I’m going.”

“Isabelle, I said no!”

MONICA LOUNGED IN A CHAIR by the window, delicately stroking her fingers down her flat tummy and lingering over her silver belly-button ring. She was wearing a pair of skintight black leather pants and a matching halter top. Luke was at his desk, sneaking glances at her slight, well-defined body. Feline-shaped green eyes lined in heavy black makeup. Pink pouty lips.

Cat Woman, he thought. She’s Cat Woman.

To Luke, the only thing more beguiling than her beauty was her attitude.

“What the fuck are you doing, anyway?” she said and flipped off the radio.

“Rebuilding a computer.” He pretended to unscrew something behind the monitor.

Monica took a long drag from her cigarette and blew smoke through the window screen. She flicked the ashes onto the ledge, since the ashtray was a couple inches out of reach, and took a swig from a bottle of brandy she had stolen from a cabinet in the living room. She chased it down with a Starburst Fruit Chew.

Luke could hardly believe she was in his bedroom, just inches from his bed. He wanted to grab his iPhone and snap a picture for the Robotics Club, but it was buried inside a knapsack. Instead, he strained for something witty to say.

“So, uh… how was your last day of school?” It sounded so lame, his eyes shut tight.

Monica blew out a sarcastic breath. “Your school sucks. The girls are phony twats and the guys are pretentious dicks.”

Luke was surprised she knew the word pretentious, but Monica was a walking bundle of contradictions. She was feminine, in a butch kind of way. She could speak fluent French, yet she didn’t know Brooklyn was part of New York City. Her dyed black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which revealed platinum-blond roots that matched her nearly invisible eyebrows. She had a butterfly tattoo on her left ankle and a severed hand giving the finger on her right.

She pulled up the window screen and flicked the burning cigarette into the street.

Luke cleared his throat. “So… how’s your mom?”

“Don’t talk about my mom.”

“Sorry.”

“She’s such a bitch.”

“Really?”

“You wouldn’t get it.” She heaved a long sigh. “Damn, I miss my friends.”

Luke wondered if Monica had any friends. There were no calls in or out of the apartment since she arrived. She didn’t even own a cell phone, which was astounding since every girl Luke knew spent most of the day texting each other. At school, Monica walked around staring at the floor and never sat with anyone at lunch. Trinity was filled with mostly bright, wealthy students who regarded her as street trash. Even Luke never acknowledged her in the hallways when they passed. Not that he was wildly popular either. Sure, he’d made a couple of friends in the Robotics Club, but they never did anything outside of school.

He looked sideways at Monica, cleaning dirt from her fingernails, and wondered if she was a prostitute like her mother. The thought made him feel sad and excited at the same time. Maybe he should have offered to pay for sex weeks ago, instead of trying to win her over with charm. The proposition seemed dangerous. Someone with her kind of experience might laugh at his shortcomings. On the other hand, a knowledgeable partner could give him some pointers. Sort of like a sex tutor.

“Do tutors make good money?” she said.

Luke froze.

“You tutor math and science, right?” She was standing by the dresser, holding his Tutor of the Year award.

He recovered with a sigh. “Yeah. I guess. Like twenty an hour.”

She choked down a laugh. “That sucks.”

“How much do you make?”

Her lips clamped tight and she set the trophy down hard. “I’m not presently employed, but if I was, it would be more than twenty an hour.” She turned the trophy so it faced the wall. “My mom’s taking me to Paris when she gets out. I’m gonna be a famous artist.”

Luke had seen several of her childlike drawings of fruit bowls and couldn’t imagine the French art world welcoming her talent.

She spun all his other trophies around so they faced the wall, then turned all the knobs on his stereo and leafed through his CD collection. “Beatles… Rolling Stones… Elvis ?” She rolled her eyes, and pulled out a CD. “Who the hell is Beth Oven?”

“It’s Beethoven.”

“I knew that, Einstein .”

There wasn’t much left on the dresser to mishandle so she stopped in front of a model skyscraper, an intricate, near-perfect replica of the Freedom Tower. Luke had made it in school and entered in a contest for a chance to win a $25,000 scholarship. She flipped a switch that turned the lights in the windows on and off.

“Hey, don’t touch that!”

“ Okay . Jeez.” She backed away, arms raised like a criminal. “ Ne te mets pas en rogne. ”

He watched her flop onto the cot that was Sean’s bed, bouncing on the squeaky springs.

“How do you like sharing a room with your weird brother?”

“He’s not weird.”

“Bet you’d love it if I left. You can’t wait, huh?”

He shrugged. “It’s kind of nice having a girl around.”

Monica studied his expression. “You’re lying.”

“No I’m not.”

“You hate that I’m here.”

“I think you’re nice.” He took a breath and went for it. “You’re pretty too. You don’t need all that makeup.”

She squinted through thick black lashes, trying to decide if that was a compliment or an insult. Then she stood up with a grin and strolled back to the Freedom Tower, turning on the colored spotlights that spun on the ceiling. She pinched the pointed needle.

“Come on, really. It’s a group project.”

“Right. The geek squad.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know I’m a geek. Thanks for pointing it out.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

They were both silent for a moment, then her face softened and she looked at him with an appraising nod. She sauntered to his chair, sliding onto the desk with her tight rump covering his mouse pad. She leaned in close, smelling like cherry Starburst. They were close enough to kiss, and she flicked a stray lock of black hair from his brow, staring into his slightly freckled face that was still boyish but with a strong jawline of approaching manhood.

His heart was pounding so loud he worried she might hear it.

“You’re not so bad.” She nodded. “You’re actually kind of cute. I’ve seen you in your gym clothes and you have pretty good muscles in those shoulders… and those thighs,” she said, glancing down for an instant. “Yeah, I could make out with someone like you.”

Luke’s heart clutched and his cheeks streaked red. After two months of insults Monica was talking about making out. She even mentioned his thighs, which he knew were in fact getting muscular. His palms were beginning to sweat and he felt himself moving closer to the fantasies that kept him awake at night. He imagined the amazed faces of the Robotics Club.

She’s your girlfriend?

There would be a long, steady dating period, and then—

Yeah, we finally did it. She couldn’t stand it anymore. Making out all the time, but not going all the way. It was too stressful for both of us, really .