11 – So Many Bad Ideas
Casey
23A Sluts
“So, which one is ‘sex pest’?” I ask Rosie as we stand out in front of Pucks waiting on Addison. The early winter air isn’t as brutal today, but we are both wrapped up in our coats and shaking our legs, trying to keep warm as we wait. Uncertain why we couldn’t just wait inside.
“Caleb.”
“WHAT?! You slept with Caleb?”
Rosie waves off my astonishment and rolls her eyes, searching the street for Addison.
“It was one time. After Noah’s. He is like a dog with a bone, too. If I’d known he’d become obsessed, I wouldn’t have even gone there.” She is pretending to be annoyed, but I can see the slight smile on her lips. Taking this rare opportunity for the two of us, I bump her shoulder with mine to get her attention.
“Would it be so bad if you had a repeat? If he is one of Noah’s friends, I’m sure he is a good guy.” Rosie’s cheeks blush but she holds tight to her look of indifference.
“Oh, please. He wasn’t even that good.” She fusses her hair out of her face as she looks around. I don’t miss the way she bites her bottom lip to hide a smile.
“Oh my GOD!” I slap her shoulder. “You liar!” I laugh and she covers her face with her hands. “I don’t think so, spill everything NOW! You would never let Addy and me get away with such blatant lies.” She grunts and throws her head back.
“Fine! It was…” She looks at me, narrows her eyes, then rolls them to look away from me. “Earth-shattering. Show-stopping. I saw through space and time and felt like my soul left my body, before I came back down and found myself in the body of a goddess who was gifted her three wishes before being given a whole other genie bottle to wish for more. It was like…” I watch as she runs her fingers over her lips, and I plaster a hand over my mouth to stop the laugh from tumbling out. “Case, it’s bad.” Her big brown eyes widen and lock with mine as she whispers intensely.
“What’s bad?” My head tilts in confusion because I wouldn’t describe what she just said as being bad sex. If it is, then I really need to evaluate my own sexual experiences.
“It was too good.”
“Is that a thing?”
“Yes! It means I’m ruined. I can’t have sex again. My sex-life is over!”
“Or you could just repeat.”
“I don’t repeat.”
“And why not?”
“Because people get attached, they get their hopes up, and that’s when disgusting things like love happens.” She shivers as though she inhaled a bad smell.
“I don’t think love is disgusting. And would it really be so bad if you did find love? It sounds like you finally found your equal. Someone as wild and crazy as you are. Maybe he’s your soulmate?”
“Ew.” Rosie enacts a pretend vomit, pointing her finger into her mouth and screws up her face. “Thank you.” She turns and nods, now smiling fully.
“What on earth for?” I ask, barely able to withhold my laughter.
“Saying all of that fuckery. I think you cured me.”
“You are something else, Rosie Garcia.” Rosie winks at me, and I shake my head as Noah’s car pulls up.
Noah and Addy exit the front, with Riley swinging herself out the back and leaping onto the sidewalk, as another exits the car. The sex-pest himself.
“Garcia.” He winks at Rosie.
“Ugh, pest.” She rolls her eyes at him. “Okay, let’s wait for everyone else inside. It is freezing out here.”
“I’ll just wait for JJ.”
“Huh?” Riley pins me with a look.
“As in our brother, JJ?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.
I shrug, not sure how to explain that we have kind of been hanging out without everyone getting the wrong idea. Because there is no idea to have. There is nothing going on between us, and after my emotional day that turned into a wholesome baking-friend-date with my new friend, I think it’s safe to say my unbridled desire is officially cured. Especially after I realize how completely unaffected he is and how easily he can switch from teasing to indifferent.
“Yeah. I ran into him a few times at the coffee shop, he helped me out with a studio thing, and he just seems like he could do with expanding his social circle.” It feels like a little bit of a lie, a little bit of a betrayal, like he is a tragic person in need of saving, when really he is just a person who was broken too many times and needs someone to show him he is worth the love and care everyone else is.
“Just doing your bit for the community, Case.” Rosie taps me on the shoulder. Riley breaks out into a laugh, but Addison’s eyes narrow on me as the guys head into Pucks.
“You know what you’re doing there, Case?” Addison says, just low enough for me to hear as she follows everyone in.
“What do you mean?”
“That guy has been broken before. I really only just got my brother back. Not that I think you’ll hurt him, I just… could you be careful?” My cheeks heat and I shake it off.
“Of course! Really, things with JJ are purely platonic. He’s your brother, anyway.” She nods, but her eyes search mine. I give her my best smile that I hope says, I have never had a sex dream about your brother. Not at sixteen and not now. She seems satisfied as she turns and heads in while I wait for my… friend.
“Jessie? I think we met at Noah’s?” Ethan throws a hand out to JJ as we enter and take our seats at the table. It took a lot of convincing, puppy-dog eyes, and smiles to get JJ to agree to come out. He was very adamant that socializing with his sister’s friends was ‘worse than death by Lingchi’–w hich he eventually had to explain was known as a death by a thousand cuts–but once I said, ‘ This is what being real is , despite all the sorrow and crap we feel, we show up for people we care about, ’ he grunted and rolled his eyes. Some choice curses under his breath, but here he is.
Jessie shakes Ethan’s hand and gives him a tight smile. Similar introductions are made with Lucas, Caleb, and Stella–who I am putting together is the crazy eyes Rosie was referring to.
Stella works at Bozzelli’s with Addison and Lucas, the crazy eyes part I think might be that they are so dark they could be black, but she also has this kick ass winged eyeliner that makes me envious of her wrist control to be able to pull that off. The one time I tried winged eyeliner, it looked like someone was trying leech therapy on my eyelids. Rosie had laughed herself sore before she was scrubbing it off my face. ‘ I cannot, as a best friend, let you try to get laid with that on your face.’ Needless to say, makeup is not my strong suit.
“Drinks?” Rosie announces as we sit. “I’ll get first round.” She grabs her purse as people call out their orders.
“I’ll help!” I move from the seat, and just as I go to ask JJ what he wants, I clock the pleading look from his eyes. I wink at him. “I’ll be right back.” He stiffens and swallows before nodding and returning his attention to Addison and Riley. The latter steals my seat and intertwines her arms with her brother’s, whispering something that makes him laugh. Something loosens inside me. A warm unfurling that makes me feel light and happy. That Jessie is here, putting in effort and bridging gaps, not just socially, but with his sisters.
“Girl, JJ is hooked,” Rosie grunts as we head for the bar.
“What on earth are you talking about?” I shift my bag on my shoulder, and Rosie wraps an arm around my shoulders as we walk.
“He watches you like you’re the sun and you’re the first sunrise he has even seen.” I laugh and smack Rosie’s side.
“You are insane. Good simile, though. That editing is softening your heart.”
“Nonsense. There is no softening. I’m just excellent at my job. But seriously, do you know what you’re doing there?” Her tone takes a serious lilt and between that and Addison’s warning, I’m starting to get a bit frustrated.
“We are just friends. We don’t all have a sex agenda, Rosie.” She takes a step away from me like I just slapped her, and I have massive instant regret. The shock that those words left my mouth hits us both. I must look as stunned as I feel because Rosie softens and starts laughing, a full belly laugh that has her falling forward, bracing her hands on her knees.
“Would you look at that, Casey has claws. Maybe Jessie is good for you, too.” She smacks my ass and skips the rest of the distance to the bar. I shake my head and swallow past the lump of regret in my throat. I am not sure when I became so defensive or snarky toward my friend, but I’m not sure I like that version of myself.
“So, have you decided where you’re going to live, Riles?” Addison questions from across the table. The whole crew is finally here. I put together that the tall one is Ethan because he is the tallest of the lot. Lucas just does his usual thing of laughing when something was funny, getting the shout on his turn, small jabs and barbs at the guys when they arise, but otherwise he sticks quietly to himself and just… watches.
“I’m going to see if I can find share-housing or something.” She shrugs and sips her drink. “Everything is so expensive. And since Dad decided to go rogue and ruin all our lives, I can’t afford college or my own apartment.” The tension at the table becomes thick. Riley has never had a filter and sometimes it makes for awkward conversations, except our enigma at the opposite end of the table laughs deeply under his breath, which has a domino effect on Rosie and Stella, and suddenly we are all laughing with Riley.
“Nicely done, Riles,” Addison grunts as she downs her drink. Noah wraps a protective arm around her and squeezes her shoulder. A small comfort I notice softens her as she leans into his touch. A little bit of jealousy pokes at my chest before I shake it off and shove it down.
“Lucas, you have a spare room, right? Didn’t Lenny move out?” Noah questions.
I follow the table’s gaze as it lands on Lucas. He has a moment of shock, eyes widening before he corrects himself and nods. “Ahh… yeah, I’ll have a spare room at the end of the month… if you need.” His eyes nervously flit to Riley as he answers before fixing his gaze on his drink.
“Oh… thanks. I’ll see what happens.” Riley shrugs and sips her drink. I feel Jessie stiffen next to me. He watches Lucas with an unsettling frown, his hands on his legs closing into fists.
Before we have an unnecessary display of misplaced brotherly concern, I discreetly place a hand on his under the table. Prying his fingers apart and hopefully goading him into relaxing. I keep my attention on the table conversation, but I feel his gaze snap to mine before his eyes look to where my hand touches his. My plan is successful, and I feel him relax, turning his palm over, twining his fingers with mine. It feels oddly intimate, but also right, like it was just the right amount of grounding I needed and the right amount of calming he needed.
A smothering blanket to a grease fire… Okay, my similes are not as good as Rosie’s.
“How’s the shop, JJ?” Addison asks.
“Ah, good.” He nervously sips his beer, frown in place, and I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back but doesn’t continue.
“That new menu looks popular. I saw it on the socials,” Rosie says from my other side, leaning forward.
“New menu?” I ask, because I hadn’t noticed he had a whole new menu. A bit of excitement at the new flavor possibilities zings through me.
“Oh… yeah, just an idea I had. Seems to be going well.”
“The Baker Brew, right?” Rosie asks again, and my head twists in her direction. I catch the tongue-in-cheek look she gives me before focusing back to Jessie. I do the same because I’m sure I didn’t hear that right and Jessie is about to correct her.
“Right.” He tries to clear his throat before he disentangles our hands and nervously rubs his palms on his thighs. “It’s kind of like a build it yourself menu. Encourages people to try different flavors and explore the options we carry. Then I don’t have to think of it and people use the stock I order. It’s a good way to get rid of some of the shit that doesn’t commonly get used in standard orders.” Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
Happy tears prick the back of my eyes as my heart tries to explode out of my chest. My stupid romance heart wants me to read into this so much more than it should, and it takes every ounce of control to remain impassive at this little piece of information.
“Oh, that sounds amazing!” I say as I clap my hands and try to swallow past the lump stuck in my throat. “I love it! Different flavor options every time? Yes!”
“Right up Casey’s weird coffee alley.” Addison giggles from Jessie’s other side.
“That’s actually a great idea. I might steal it, if you don’t mind,” Lucas chimes in, his face serious, but some amusement sits there.
“By all means,” JJ says while sipping his drink, and I feel like my happiness meter is going to explode. Between JJ actively engaging with my friends, but also… The Baker Brew? Like c’mon, how am I meant to not have butterflies around this man?
“I’m not sure coffee suits a speak-easy bar, Lucas, but nice effort.” Rosie pats him on the back condescendingly, and it still shocks me how this little Latina manages to make six foot tall and intimidating men look and feel like they are the size of an ant.
Lucas is a good sport, though. He shakes his head and laughs before responding, “Hilarious, Garcia. I was talking about the idea in general. I could do a DIY cocktail station. Get rid of some of the stranger ingredients by letting people create something horrible themselves.”
“Or maybe they’ll create a bit of magic,” I say through a smile in Lucas’s general direction. His eyes are severe as they snap to mine, their bright-hazel blue color that pierces through his dark Italian lashes, and a sobering smile that grows across his face.
“Very true, I suppose,” he mutters in my direction before we both sip a drink and return to the rest of the table.
I let my gaze float past JJ, and I note his eyes locked in Lucas’s direction. Fierce and feral, and I have to distract him, again. This guy really needs to be socialized more often.
“What are you reading at the moment?” I ask him as the rest of the table breaks out into their own conversations.
“The Odyssey,” he responds tightly, but the moment he turns to give me his attention, he softens.
“Oh… nice… what’s it about?” I tilt my head, because the only thing I know about that book is that one George Clooney movie, and I’m doing my best to think of anything other than the Baker Brew.
“Greek poems. Broken into a collection of books, but it tells the story of Odysseus…” He looks to my eyes, which must illustrate my confusion, and he shakes his head. “Never mind. It’s not that interesting.” I see the light in his eyes wink out. I wonder how often he hides the things that interest him because he doesn’t think anyone would care. I rest a hand on his arm.
“No, tell me, I am interested. It’s why I asked.” I give him my best smile, which he stares at for a few beats before he snatches my eyes and continues.
“The Greek hero Odysseus and his journey home after the Trojan War.” He searches my eyes for a moment before he nervously plays with his drink. “But really, it’s about the profoundness of the human experience in the journey of life. Determination and resilience.” His attention switches from the drink to me, and I can see every ounce of his gentle soul peeking through that grumpy fa?ade. I give him a soft smile, encouragement to continue. Not that it’s an effort, he’d never know, but it wouldn’t matter if he was talking about the ingredients of paint. I’ll always hang on every word he says. “It’s about a man’s resolve to reunite with his family, and it reflects the universal human longing for connection and belonging. The pain and the strength, at once intense and unavoidable.”
He talks about this interpretation like it is a love letter, the way he speaks, like he is Odysseus himself, feeling the effect of trying to push on through, to find his love. My heart beats a little faster.
My hand rests on his thigh, facing each other in our chairs, his arm rests on the back of my chair. We almost breathe each other’s air.
Rosie clears her throat discreetly next to me, and I’m thankful for the reminder that we are at a table of our friends and not alone. Although I desperately wish we were. So much for that unbridled desire disappearing. I’m going to have to find other tactics.
“You’ve a cute nose.” Jessie bops me on the nose as I try to assist him through his apartment door.
The night was a success in terms of socializing him. He got along swimmingly with the guys, so much so that he is now wasted, and I am a glorified babysitter.
He gasps and points to the reading chair. “I made that.” I giggle slightly at the pride in his words, but before I can say anything about it, he continues. “Made that, too.” He points to the coffee table. “Doo like them?” he asks, as he turns his face in my direction, his warm breath hitting the side of my face, and I have to breathe through the lust.
“Mmhmm. So good, Jessie. Now let’s get you into bed.”
“Oh, no. You can’t come to mibed. You Adinson’s friend. Off limits,” he grumbles, punctuating the last two words perfectly enough that it makes my stomach sink just a little. I already knew all of this but hearing him actually say it leaves the bitter taste of disappointment. He turns to look at me and raises a wonky eyebrow. “I don get you,” he says low, the scent of whiskey enveloping us as I haul him through the living area to his bedroom.
“What don’t you get, Jay?” I ask, but not really focusing on the conversation because I am trying to haul a man triple my size through an apartment.
“Why you hang aroundme. Why you’ve hope.” He says it as we make it to the bed, and it’s a good thing because I’m so shocked by his question that I stop and he falls, the mattress catching him.
“I… what do you mean? I think you’re great.”
“Butthass what I dongettt.” His words slur, and he says all of this without looking me in the face. “No one thiks I’m great, I’m aggressively not great. I’m like…” he fumbles for the words as he tries to peel his pants off. He must forget I’m in the room and he isn’t just undressing by himself. I turn to face the door, trying to give him some semblance of privacy. “I’m college sex, good. Not exciting, spot- spona- you know , friend material, good, you know?” No, Jay, I don’t know.
“I think you’re a bit drunk, Jay, and I do think you’re exciting.”
“Yeah?” He looks up at me, now shirtless, pants-less, and sitting on his bed in just his boxers, looking like an absolute dream, even with his glassy eyes.
Holding on to hope that he just passes out and forgets I’m even here, I nod and smile, walking over to him and smoothing his wild hair. His eyes close at my touch and he leans into my palm. “Yeah, Jay. I think you’re the greatest.” He starts to nod and lay back to the bed. When I think he is going to fall asleep, his deep husky voice fills the room. “Can you call Jenny’n tell her that? Maybe… maybe if she hears it from you, she’ll change her mind.” Something sharp and painful spears itself in my stomach. A pain I have no right feeling because I knew he was still hung up on Jenny. I knew he was healing and shut off from everyone for a reason. It was the whole point of me being his friend. It is just a cold and sobering reminder of why this stupid crush I have is pointless and a waste of my energy.
I pick up Jessie’s discarded clothes and hang them on the back of his door as I respond. “Why would hearing it from me mean anything to her, Jessie?” I know he is drunk, and yet I feel confident in my responses, like it’s the only time I’ll get any honesty from him.
“Because you’re special. Youcould leadher back with your magic.” Okay, there is honesty, and then there is just plain delusion. It hurts maybe even a little more that, in this fantasy, I’m the fairy godmother that grants his wish. Just once, it’d be nice to be the prize. I wasn’t prize enough for Connor to bother with any effort. Not prize enough for my sister to really give me a whole lot of attention. Apparently, my magic extends only as far as bettering people’s lives until the next best thing comes along. And for Jessie, that isn’t me.
I don’t respond this time, I just close his door and try to tiptoe my way out of his room—
“ Ow!” I try to whisper-scream so I don’t wake the drunk baby. I stub my toe on his reading chair on the way out of his room, and when I look down at the stupidly placed furniture item, my eyes snag on a stack of paper peeking out underneath. I use my foot to nudge it and realize it’s bound together. I pick it up and—
“Oh, it’s a manuscript,” I whisper to myself, reading the title, ‘ Fragments of Me’ by Jessie Jenkins.
“Jessie wrote a book!?” I whisper-shout again. “Oh my god!” I sit down on the reading chair and flick on the light, immediately turning to the first page and diving into the first chapter.
A tear drops to the page, and it brings me back. I quickly wipe it from the page and realize I’ve been sitting here for 2 hours, already nine chapters deep and weeping like a baby. Oh, Jessie. My heart feels like it’s being pulled in two different directions. It breaks for the pain and sorrow he feels deeply, that is evident within his words, but also so incredibly impressed because this… this is an amazing piece of writing and I wish he had the confidence to show it to the world.
“Immediately unthink that idea, Casey,” I chastise myself. Because what I’m thinking would be a really, really bad use of a new friendship. It feels like a gross betrayal of his trust. I snap the book closed and stand, grabbing my bag and wiping my eyes. I throw the manuscript on to the chair and stare at it.
Bad idea.
Bad idea.
“Dammit,” I mutter to myself. Snatching the manuscript, I run for the door.