9. Sienna
nine
Sienna
“So like I was…saying…”
I cringe as Aric takes another large slurp of the spaghetti he’d ordered, watching as some of the soupy tomato juice splatters on the table and his chin.
If you’d had told the Sienna of four months ago that she’d be sitting in a cramped Italian restaurant watching a man sloppily slurp up pasta and talk about the magic of Van Gogh’s brush strokes, I’d think you must’ve hit your head and entered a weird alternate planet in our multiverse.
Aric takes a huge gulp from his glass of water, his fingers leaving a red residue behind on the cup. My nose scrunches as the condensation on the cup causes the residual pasta juice to melt onto the table in a hopeless display of pitifulness.
I should’ve listened to my gut.
When Aric asked me out, I was skeptical—and for good reason. No man in this universe has had the accomplishment of not giving me the ick . You know what I mean when I say that—that feeling of complete and utter disgust from something no matter how big or small, it makes you cringe viscerally.
Art History and I have always been mortal enemies considering information refuses to settle in my brain for long periods of time. I can never remember a person whom I’ve just met name or when something occurs, which is why I hate the subject.
The same subject I've been forced to listen to for the past forty-five minutes.
“So as I was saying, little pig—get it, because you have pink hair?—Maybe you can snog something bigger a little later…” Aric wi nks.
Oh hell no…
Before I can stop myself, my chair screeches as it slides against the cheap hardwood floors of Mike’s Italiano.
Are all men like this?
I wasted two hours of my Sunday getting primmed and pressed by Cleo and Georgia for this date, only to sit here and have this asshole make sexual innuendos, ride Van Gogh’s dick for twenty minutes, and then proceed to relate my hair color to a fucking pig?!
Taking a nice long sip of the untouched glass of the cabernet that Aric had ordered, I grimace.
I fucking hate wine.
“Woah, baby girl…you ready to get out of here or something?” Aric questions me, biting his bottom lip. It takes everything in me not to let the two bites of the gnocchi I’d eaten come back up.
Aric had been a cool guy—until he shoved two glasses of cabernet down his thick throat and proceeded to make innuendos and talk dead artists for the better half of this “date”.
“I’m getting out of here. I hope you have a nice date with yourself, Aric.” I roll my eyes, snatching the mini gold purse I’d taken from Cleo’s closet before leaving.
My legs are moving faster than my brain, and soon enough, I find myself standing in front of a random closed storefront wearing a designer lavender Asteri cocktail dress, stranded.
“Fuck me…” I curse quietly, searching the empty roads for any sign of life.
Good going, Si Si. Your prissy ass couldn’t just sit there and take it? Look at you now, stuck in a city you’re not used to at night, carless and hungry.
My heart drops and my shoulders slump as the little angry bitch on my shoulder reminds me of my faults.
I just wanted to branch out, put myself out there, and try the whole dating thing.
But why is it so difficult? What happened to romance?
Holding doors, walking your date to their doorstep?
It’s almost like in order to date, I need to be willing to give up my body on the first date for things to work out… but why ?
Maybe it’s for the best that this whole dating thing was a bust…maybe I’m not cut out for it.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as a cool gust of early September air breezes past. My skin pebbles with goosebumps as I open up my phone to find messages from my uncle, Clef.
Uncle CJ
Hey Sola girl, how’s everything with school? You settling in alright? Your cousin said you’re going on a date tonight. I can’t believe my girls are growing up.
Hit me back when your date’s over, Sola girl. I love you!
Heat prickles my skin as my heart warms. Uncle Clef has always been like a father figure to me, considering his older brother, my dad, was never truly around. He’s a busy guy, touring the world and DJing…it’s normal.
Without missing a beat, I respond to my uncle.
Me
Can you come get me? I’m in front of the creepy ceramic doll store by Mike’s Italiano.
In less than ten minutes, I find myself sitting in the passenger seat of my uncle's Escalade, wondering where I went wrong.
Is my taste in men that horrible, or are all the good guys taken? Is this what normal dating is like? As I sit, stewing in silence, watching the dark college town scenery pass by, my skin prickles with awareness.
“Say it…” I sigh, chewing on my bottom lip.
The sigh Uncle Clef lets out is deep. “What’s going on with my Sola girl?”
I grin at the use of my childhood nickname, Sola girl.
It’s a play on my middle name, Sola. My parents spent a summer in Spain and met an independent artist named Sola Lopez.
She gave them a place to stay after my father was mobbed while my mother was pregnant with me…
long story. Anyways, my uncle started calling me ‘Sola girl’ because I couldn’t pronounce the L in my name and would say “Soa” instead .
“I don’t know, Uncle CJ…I just want to be different.
I’m tired of trying to live up to these perfect standards that I’ve created for myself…
It's like I know that no one expects perfection from me, but I do.
I want to be the best, I want everything to be correct and okay…
and I just…I don't know.” I shrug, looking briefly at my uncle then back to the window as Uncle Clef pulls into the parking lot of my complex.
He hums, processing my words before nodding.
“Sienna…I’ll tell you what I tell your cousins and the team,” he says, putting the car in park before facing me.
“It is okay to seek perfection, but it is also okay to fail. It’s okay to start over and try new things, and it is more than okay to not have a plan.
Your accomplishments do not dictate your worth or who you are on the inside, Sola girl.
” Uncle Clef frowns, patting my shoulder before sighing.
“I know that you believe that by being the best at everything then you’ll feel validated, but it’s okay to just sit back and breathe.
You’re twenty, you have your whole life ahead of you.
Don’t waste time stressing about whether everything is perfect or not.
The only thing that matters is if you’re being your authentic self, Sienna.
You are a star, and I’m so sorry my brother doesn’t tell you this more often, but just know that I see you and I love you. ”
As the weight of my uncle's words settle in my soul, I feel a mixture of things. Sad for one, that my mask of indifference has fallen and that he sees how much I crave my parents validation, but happy because I’m not alone.
I see you and I love you.
My uncle has always been one of my favorite authority figures. He took me in countless summers and traveled to be there for me whenever he could.
Just as I’m about to thank him, he stops me in my tracks and speaks.
“And stop going on dates with bums. There should be no reason that I’m picking you up on a Sunday of all days because you had an asshole for a date.”
“Die, motherfucker…die!” I hiss at the monitor as I smash my finger against my mouse, aiming and killing my opponents. A flash bang flies across my screen, blinding me momentarily.
“Fucking bitch…” I mutter, reloading my gun before proceeding to take out the rest of my competition.
This is the calmest I’ve felt in weeks. Hell, maybe even months. Uncle Clef’s advice was amazing, but in order for me to truly breathe, I need to annihilate something…or someone.
My grin is bright and wide as my kill cam pops up, displaying my last kill of the night as I take a bite of one of the fresh baked chocolate chip cookies Georgia made for me this morning.
“I needed this…” I sigh, spinning around in my seat to look at Oscar.
He’s running around the cage slower than normal, taking his time instead of being the weirdly overactive ferret that he is.
Hmm…I wonder if he needs a break, too.
I’m about to walk over and check on the poor albino ferret when simultaneous dings from my phone, laptop, and watch alert me of a new text.
Checking the time first, my eyes widen. Who in their right mind is texting me at 3:00 a.m.?! Matter of fact…why am I up at 3:00 a.m.?!
It isn’t until I read the text for a second time that my eyes almost fall completely out of their sockets.
Heart
So…
How was the date?
Before I can reconcile with the fact that Hades himself is texting me about a date that he should in fact have zero knowledge of, my phone rings.
It fucking rings!
What kind of sick psychopath calls their ex-lover—if you can call me that—at 3:00 a.m. to talk about boys?!
I shriek as my phone clatters against my floor, jumping back from the sparkly case on the ground .
Just breathe, Sienna.
Think about what this could look like.
If I don’t answer, he’d get the wrong impression and think that I was with Aric…
But if I do answer, I look like a lonely sap who doesn’t sleep and can’t keep a date going—which I kind of am…but that’s besides the point.
Making up my mind, I decide that texting Jace back instead of calling would be the smarter option.
Me
I didn’t peg you for a stalker, Eros.
But then again, you rearranged my entire schedule so what would I know?
How’d you know about the date?
Heart
Answer the call
I’m craving to see the kind of guy who doesn’t give a fuck that you’re texting another man right now
Me
No.
Heart
So he’s a poly guy…
Didn’t peg my little angel to be into polyamory, but if that’s what you like, just know we’re cutting it out of our relationship
I scoff as I reread his message for the third time, and before I get the chance to respond, those three little dots pop up again, alerting me of Jace’s next onslaught of messages.
I watch as the message bubble appears for a minute before disappearing and the phone vibrates. The image of myself being reflected on the screen appears as he video calls me.
Is he some kind of psycho? Even if I was with another man right now, I wouldn’t answer his call.
So then why is your heart racing, Sienna?
Shut up, Christine…Yes, I named the evil part of my consciousness.
Dashing around the room, I throw on a hoodie and tug on my lavender bonnet, securely wrapping my hair up before answering the phone.
Don’t look at me like that…
Jace won’t stop until I answer the phone, so I might as well give in before he makes my phone die from constant ringing.
In seconds, the screen displays a shirtless Jace peering up at his camera with an annoyed expression. His dark blond brows are furrowed together as he squints at the screen.
“Wha—”
“Who’s hoodie is that?” he cuts me off, his voice tight as he observes my surroundings, I scoff at his interruption, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing his pestering.
“I’m busy.” I respond through gritted teeth.
Yeah…busy playing video games and erasing that horrible date from my mind, but he doesn't need to know that.
“You’re obviously not busy enough to talk to me…She’s taken by the way, big guy. And if you so much as think about touching her, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” I tease, poking the bear. My heart skips as I replay his words, but they're futile. He’s only doing this because he’s an asshole.
No other reason at all.
“I’ll kick his goddamn door down, angel,” he yawns, his entire body shaking with the force of it .
“Sleepy?”
“No…I was waiting for you,” he replies nonchalantly before turning over in his bed.
Waiting for me?
I don’t like the feeling that my heart has from hearing those words. The feeling is soft and warm and completely unreliable.
“Goodnight, angel,” Jace yawns again, smiling sleepily after a few minutes of silence.
“Goodnight, psycho…”