Vi Keeland: Worth the Chance

I still can’t believe I told him about my little geeky hobby. Ever since I was old enough to read, I’ve been a sucker for tragic romances. Devouring every word, I sometimes cry through the tragic beauty that sweeps me away. Then, when I’m done, I just can’t help myself. I rewrite the ending. Every story deserves a happy ending in my mind.

Two weeks ago, when we were finishing up Romeo and Juliet for class, I was so caught up in the love story that I blurted out the ending I had begun writing. Embarrassed at my own admission, I wanted to crawl in a hole, but Vinny actually seemed interested. Intrigued even. Instead of finding my quirky habits odd and scaring him away, he seems to want to know more. More about what I like to do. What makes me happy.

“Actually, I think after her mother….” I’m just about to tell Vinny about the chapter I wrote over the weekend, when I’m interrupted by a voice I’ve come to despise.

“Well don’t you and your little tutor girl look like you’re having a good time?” Missy Tatum’s snide voice brings me crashing back to reality. One look reminding me of everything I’m not. I’m pretty sure if she wore any less clothing she would get arrested for indecent exposure. From where I’m sitting, the underside of her full boobs are clearly visible. Her half shirt barely covers her at eye level, even less so from the view from below. Immediately I feel self-conscious about my lack of curves. She’s a senior and I’m in tenth grade. A late blooming tenth grader at that. In less than thirty seconds the comfort I’ve felt settle in with Vinny the last few hours is gone, and I’m back to being the little girl.

“Wait outside Missy, I’ll be done in a few minutes.” Vinny’s voice changes from the gentle and playful tone he has with me to something harsher, more controlling. For a second I think Missy is going to complain, but Vinny gives her a look daring her to respond. She pouts, but turns and walks toward the door to wait without another word.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. She shouldn’t talk to you that way.” His voice is still angry, so different than how he usually speaks to me.

“Thanks, but I’m used to it.”

“What do you mean you’re used to it?”

“Her crowd.” I shrug, motioning with my eyes toward the door where Missy and her friends are gathered smoking cigarettes outside the library. “They just make little comments, that’s all.”

“Like what?” Vinny’s jaw flexes and his temper flares. It’s a side of him that I’ve seen from a distance, but never up close, never directed at me. He’s scary when he’s angry. His relaxed and playful demeanor is gone, replaced by clenched fists and shoulders more squared than usual.

“It’s not a big deal.” I feign an indifferent smile and start to pack up my books.

Vinny’s quiet for a minute, but I can feel him watching me as I pile all my things back into my backpack. It makes me nervous and I feel my face heat from the intensity of his stare. I have no choice but to look up at him when I’m done, even though I’d rather crawl under the table. He doesn’t say anything, but his beautiful, pale blue eyes capture my attention, and for a minute I forget who we are and surrender to his hold. But then he abruptly stands and grabs his books off the table.

“See you next week?”

I nod my head, my words stuck beneath the lump in my throat.

I watch from the table as Vinny walks out of the library. Missy wraps herself around him the minute he exits the glass door. For a second, Vinny turns back and looks at me still frozen in my seat. Then he puts his arm around Missy’s shoulder and I watch as they walk off arm in arm.

Vinny – 7 ½ years earlier

I’m still pissed about what happened with Liv when I walk into my apartment. I plan to work off the anger with Missy. She’s always ready for whatever I feel like giving her. And today I think she’s going to be taking a lot.

As if the day hadn’t already turned to shit, my mother’s passed out on the couch and two junkies are eating cereal out of the box, staring in the direction of the TV. I’m pretty sure they can’t focus enough to see what’s playing. It’s three o’clock in the afternoon and they aren’t up from the night before. I walk over to the skinny dirtbag sitting in the chair. He’s so wasted he didn’t even notice me come in. I kick the side of the chair he’s sitting in, the chair falls over with him still in it. “Get the fuck out.”

He looks up at me, seeing me for the first time. “What’s your problem, man?”

“You are. Get. The. Fuck. Out. NOW.” I roar, barely controlling my temper. Each word comes out growling louder than the one before.

The loser’s wasted, but at least he’s not stupid. He takes one look at my face and knows he’s about thirty seconds away from a beating. A bad one. One I’d be more than happy to dish out. Might even help me clear my head. He grabs the other junkie and they scramble for the door quickly. Smart move. My mother doesn’t even budge, even though I’m pretty sure the old lady two floors down just heard me yell. I look at her back as she lays face down on the couch. She’s still breathing. I’m not sure if it makes me feel relief or regret.

I turn to the right, movement out of the corner of my eye catching my attention. Missy. I forgot she was even here. “Go in my room. Clean off the bed.” She disappears quickly.

I cover up my mother and throw out the food strewn haphazardly on the table and floor. There are empty plastic containers that were once microwave dinners but have now become ashtrays with cigarette butts in the remnants of food. Great, we’ll have no fucking food again this week.

Entering my room, I find the bed I’d left with crap all over it is already cleared and Missy’s stripped down to her underwear.

I walk to the bed and she reaches for my hand. She wants me to make nice. To kiss her, go gentle. But that’s not what I want. Not what I need. I take the hand she offers, but use it to flip her over on the bed so she’s laying on her stomach. Grabbing her legs, I yank her down to the edge of the bed so she’s standing with her feet on the floor, her waist bent and body face down on my bed. Her round ass is positioned high and looking at it ready to submit to me makes me hard as I unzip my pants and free myself.

I spank her ass hard a few times with an open hand. Instantly her skin turns bright pink and it makes me harder as I watch the color deepen. The condom barely settled into place, I enter her without warning, ramming myself to the hilt in one deep thrust. She’s wet already, not that I cared enough to check first. She likes it when I spank her ass, punish her, show her who’s in control. Missy’s as fucked up as I am. I close my eyes as I pull out and slam back in. As my eyes close, the vision of Liv’s sweet little face hits me hard. It’s so clear, it makes it easy to pretend it’s her I’m inside. I pound in and out fiercely, desperately chasing the vision in my head, hoping to scare her away, but it doesn’t work. She’s stuck in my head, no matter what I seem to do lately.

Liv

My heart is racing a million miles a minute as I take in the man he’s become. I’m literally frozen in place, staring at him. He looks the same, only older, sexier, if that’s even possible. He was always big, but he’s grown even more, filled out in all the right places. He’s tall and lean, but solid muscle defines his arms. Arms that I remember wrapping around me all those years ago. Only now there is ink covering most of his smooth, tanned skin. A large cross and symbolic lettering on his left arm catch my eye as he folds his arms across his chest causing his bicep to bulge and tighten. It distracts me and I find myself tracing the path of inky patterns, curious to see the parts that are hidden underneath his shirt. I’m not sure how much time passes, but when I look up at his face he smirks knowingly. I’ve been caught leering at the beautiful man before me.