How Not To Read online

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I may end up needing to replace some parts instead of just repairing it but it should be no problem to get working again.”

  “Well, thank you. I’m one of the only kids at school without a car. For as much as my dad cares about keeping up with the Joneses, he sure hasn’t budged on this.”

  “No problem.” He shrugs off my thanks. “Thank you for being willing to help. We can’t afford your dad but we do have cars and servicing to barter with. I’m just glad it’s working out so far.”

  I nod my head. “You wanna grab lunch?” It’s the first truly friendly gesture I’ve made toward him. Reputation be damned—I need this deal to work, which means I need to get to know my new partner.

  He nods his head and smiles at me and I notice again for the second time how attractive he is when he smiles. He’s good-looking, even when he’s not smiling, but he’s a little rough around the edges, a little scary, and not very approachable, but when he smiles, his whole face lights up and the dynamics change. I get a small rush of excitement that floods my body when I think about spending more time with him, and I question it, unsure and untrusting.

  We walk up the street to a small burger joint and I sit on the patio. I try to distract myself from the growing list of questions forming in my mind about him, and I start talking about anything, nervously rambling. Torren smiles the whole time. It makes me want to smile too.

  “You’re actually talking today, not just handing out the stink eye and unloading sarcastic remarks,” he mentions. I smile at that too.

  “Those are my specialty.”

  “I’d say so.” He rolls his eyes playfully and he wins another smile from me. I’m handing them out like candy from a creepy van today. I take a sip of my milkshake. Torren has already demolished his burger and is toying with some of his fries that remain.

  “What do you do for fun?” I ask him, honestly interested. I haven’t figured him out yet. He’s a hot, bad-boy looking, guy that works on cars and he wants to help his brother. That’s what I know. He’s straight off a TV show with that description.

  “I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I like to work out, I like to go to Glennville when my friend Jeff is in town and hang out with him or go to the river, we fish, or work on our trucks.”

  “Sounds very…”

  His eyebrows raise, waiting for me to finish

  “Country.” I say trying to sound polite and upbeat about it, but really, I don’t see the appeal.

  “That’s one way you could put it.” He smiles at my attempt. “What about you?”

  I shrug my shoulders as well. “I read, I work for my dad when I can, trying to earn extra money, and I’m class president, so that keeps me busy during the school year.”

  Torren smirks like he’s holding in a laugh.

  “Come on, what’s funny about that?”

  “Nothing, it’s just the class president at my school didn’t look anything like you. That’s all.”

  “It’s not dorky, okay? I’m good at organizing shit, and people, and it looks good on my resume, plus I’m sitting first in my class right now. If I keep it up throughout my final year, I’ll graduate as valedictorian. All the other snobby rich brats can kiss my ivy league ass when this is all over.”

  I’m all worked up now, breathing a little heavier, and I cursed, twice.

  “Okay, okay, class president, sensitive subject I get it.” He raises his hands in surrender. “It doesn’t sound like you have much fun though.”

  “I have fun,” I say back, defensive now. He continues to swirl his fries through his ketchup. “I hang out with friends and do all the typical girly gossip stuff.” He had met Emily. She wasn’t the girliest of girls but we did shit together, occasionally. Laying out by the pool, watching reality TV, those were totally normal high school girl things. I didn’t like the way I second guessed everything when he questioned it.

  He leans forward on his elbows. “I think I could show you a good time.” The double meaning is clear in his voice.

  “Not likely,” I sassily reply, wanting to knock him down a notch for being so cocky.

  “Wait a minute, no boyfriend, brings a chick to our first meeting, and now doubts my ability to sexually satisfy her… You’re… you’re gay, aren’t you?” He leans in and whispers the last part, like he’s just discovered the biggest secret. I smack him on the arm, hard.

  “No, I am not gay. Not every girl with the ability to deny you is automatically gay.”

  “I didn’t say that.” His eyes go big, accusatorily. “It’s just that odds are increasingly higher that a woman is gay if she doesn’t want to hook up with me. Plus… all those other signs. You can’t blame me.”

  “You have a remarkably normal shaped head, considering the size of your ego. It must take up all the space and leave very little room for a brain.”

  “Dang, Ace, bringing the fire. I knew that feisty spirit would be back.”

  “Ace?” I inquire, pondering the nickname.

  “Yeah, like the best, number one. You’re the snarkiest of the snarky.”

  I like it. I don’t tell him that, but I don’t correct him or tell him not to call me that either. We finish our meals but don’t get up to walk back to the shop just yet. Comfortable silence stretches between us. The warm summer sun is blazing hot but I’m enjoying getting to bask in it a little this summer instead of being locked inside a dull office. Torren leans back in his chair stretching with his arms above his head. His fitted tee is pulled tight on his arms, showing all the muscles, and stretched out like this, I can see the hint of abs underneath as well. I look away before he can catch me because the last thing I need is him to give me a hard time over something he clearly doesn’t lack any confidence in. After a few more minutes we get up to leave and make the walk back. Torren offers to drop me back off at the coffee shop, so I can bike home. He seems to know that weekends are off limits at my house and I’m grateful that he doesn’t seem offended by it. I yawn. Feeling the energy drain out of me from the day. My skin is slightly red, showing signs of a minor sunburn but I’m grateful for it, and hopeful it might even turn into a tan.

  Torren leaves his truck running at the coffee shop but gets out to pull my bike from the back for me. “Thanks for today,” I say, hoping he sees my appreciation for what he’s doing by fixing the car.

  “No problem. I’ll see you Monday? After work?”

  I nod, agreeing to our next work session.

  “If you’re up to it, we can go to my house. Work there. We would have more space. My dad won’t be home until late, so we will have the place to ourselves.” I’m not sure why he’s telling me that last part. I think it over for probably a second too long.

  “I won’t bite. Promise.”

  “Yes, well it’s not the biting I’m worried about. It’s the well in the basement that you’re going to store me in.”

  “I guess it’s lucky for you then that I don’t take girls to the well in the basement until a third date.” He lifts his eyebrows at me, to tempt me to find an excuse.

  I don’t. “Fine,” I groan out. “Pick me up after work.”

  He laughs at my reluctance and hands my bike over.

  Chapter 6

  Torren

  Ari taps on the table with her middle finger a monotonous tone as she separates and organizes receipt after receipt. We’ve been at this for three weeks now. Sitting at my place each day, we’ve worked ourselves into a comfortable routine where she works, I make snacks like a bomb-ass housewife and help her when I can. I stare at her today across the table and I know the slight pull I keep feeling to reach out and touch her is a terrible sign. She is everything lavish, and luxury and prosperous in the world, while I continue to co-exist in grease, and alcohol and lowlifes. I'm sure that’s where my allure only begins for her because despite the fact that I’ve always correlated the high life to equal narcissism and cruelty, she doesn’t seem to be any of those things. Soft wavy hair and bangs are held back by a band
ana she’s tied up around her head. The kind that makes her look like a pin-up blonde and not Tupac.

  “Why are you looking at me?” Her voice startles me, and I lift my gaze to look in her eyes rather than at her chest.

  “Sorry, I was just thinking, and I dazed off not even realizing,” I lie.

  “How not to freak a girl out rule number one hundred thirty-two: Don’t creepily stare while she’s doing you a favor,” she says with more sass than what I’m used to, and a small smile pulls at my lips.

  “You sound like one of those cheesy self-help books but dually noted! Is that really rule number one hundred thirty-two? I was sure that was number one hundred thirty-one,” I give her a hard time and she simply rolls her eyes light-heartedly.

  She doesn’t seem to be offended. In fact, she looks curious and insecure. How is anyone with that much money insecure about anything? If you are insecure, you have the money to fix whatever your problem is. Nonetheless, I’ll try not to scare her off further, if she can figure out where Gavin is going wrong in balancing our books, then I can stop picking up small jobs here and there to keep us afloat and possibly even re-consider college or trade school.

  “I think I need a sugar rush,” I add as I stand up and reach to the counter behind me for the box of Zebra Cakes that Dad likes to eat for breakfast and late-night snacks.

  “Split it with me?” I request with a sly grin, offering her the second iced cake from the package. I’ve already eaten most of the popcorn I made earlier. Being around her is going to make me put on weight if I don’t get ahold of my hormones.

  A small smile lifts one corner of her mouth and she reaches out for her piece and her fingers graze the tips of mine, and I notice something about her.

  “You have dimples.” I point to her cheek where her smile still leaves the small indention. “They’re adorable.”

  “Just one actually. On the left side.” She points to her right with a small smile still on her face and I notice she’s right, where her face is dimpled and giddy on the left, on the right, there is nothing but smooth and perfect skin. It must have been why I hadn’t noticed before.

  “I’m just mad that it’s taken you this long to look at my face. I was sure you were starting to see eyes, a nose, and mouth staring out of my chest.” Busted.

  “Guilty as charged. But no, no deformations that I can tell… although… I could take a closer look, ya know, just to be sure and all. For health purposes of course.” Her death stare has me trapped.

  “Got it. No body cavity inspections.”

  I let myself ponder what that might actually be like with her, I shake the thoughts as fast as they came. Nothing could ever come of this. She won’t even tell her father she is helping me. Although that's probably for the best because he would probably make her stop and then we would be stuck paying someone to fix this mess and the truth is I'm not sure if we have the money to even do that until she can sort through it all.

  I get up and grab a water from the fridge, desperate to toss back the six-pack sitting there instead, but I'll have to wait until Ari leaves.

  "Water?" I offer her.

  She accepts with a slight nod. I untwist the cap for her and hand it over. She and I had fallen into a good rhythm lately. I go back to sorting through receipts from the beginning of the year, so the shop doesn’t continue in the disaster we've been in. After an hour of nothing but paper rustling and calculator clicking, I break the silence.

  "Let's go swimming, I can’t handle another minute of staring at numbers and it’s too beautiful a day to not be outside."

  She pauses, stumbling over words she can’t find. I expect her to shut me down. "I'd have to go home. I don’t have anything to swim in."

  "Your place is on the way to the lake anyway,” I push, knowing she will back down. Her innocence makes her predictable.

  "Fine. Let me run these last numbers."

  I nod my head at her and break eye contact. I’m shocked. I’m not at all upset she decided to go, but I can’t believe she agreed. I meant to push her comfort level, but I see she's meeting me where I'm at. I see a half smile on her face and I wonder if she's becoming braver with me.

  ~

  This was my best idea yet. Arianne Mason is wearing the least amount of clothing I will ever get her in. I only wish we were the only people at the lake today, but a slew of people have their expensive boats beached on the sandy bank with their music blaring from their high priced speaker systems. When we arrive, Ari requests that we park farther down from them. I thought she may regret coming and was embarrassed to be seen with me, but she quickly clarified that it had more to do with not being in the mood to deal with upper-class socialite drama. In every aspect of my mind, she is one of those upper-class socialites, but she’s making it evident that she doesn’t feel like one.

  I park the car toward the end of the sandy bank and Ari picks out a picnic table that’s unoccupied and she sets her beach bag down. “I’ll go get us some tubes to float in.” She simply nods her head and takes off her flip flops storing them in her bag. I run over to the tube stand and pay them a few bucks for two tubes already inflated. As I carry them back to the table, I stumble upon Ari hands in the air pulling off her swim cover-up. I’m sporting a semi and there is definitely not enough coverage in these swim shorts. She finds me with her eyes upon getting it pulled completely off.

  “Didn’t we just go over this rule earlier? No creeping, dammit!”

  I don’t even care that I’ve been caught staring, I’m reserving every image of her tanned butt in those green bikini bottoms for the next time I jerk off. I can never let her know that because Arianne is way too good for spank bank material, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it. I throw the sexiest ‘I-can’t-help-it’ grin at her.

  I walk behind her, pulling my own shirt off and wadding it up. When I’m directly behind her, I spot them, just above her perfect ass. Two fuck-me dimples placed perfectly on her lower back.

  “I thought you said you only had one dimple,” my voice huskier than expected slips out as my fingers slightly graze the small indents in her back.

  “Why don’t you go cool off in the water? You seem a little hot and bothered.”

  “Not a bad idea. I’ll see you out there.”

  She follows behind me a few moments later after she’s applied sunscreen to her entire body. This girl might be the death of me. We lounge in our tubes all afternoon, soaking up the sun and people-watching the others around us. When we run out of things to talk about, we create a game out of identifying the careers of every person at the lake. If they are too young, we speculate what they will become. So far, we’ve been graced with the presence of the kindergarten teacher who is still appropriately covered in clothing, a nun who was shunned by her convent for wanting to embrace thongs under her robes and a college janitor who solves advanced math problems in his spare time, but that might be wishful thinking that we were in the presence of a real-life Good Will Hunting. How do you like them apples?

  “Is this your dream?” I hear her voice carry from the middle of the bend in the water.

  You mostly naked? Yes, yes, it is my dream? Yet I know that’s not what she means.

  “Is what my dream?”

  “The shop. Working on cars. Is that why you’re trying to save it?”

  “No, it’s my brother’s dream. He loves cars. I love having a paycheck out of high school.”

  “So, what’s your dream?”

  “I haven’t figured it out yet. I’ll let ya know when I find out.” It’s an honest answer. I haven’t thought much about my own preferences. “What about you? Any pipe dreams?”

  She gazes out at the different crowds in the water and I can see her processing different ideas.

  “I’m not sure,” she finally says.

  “Hmmm, maybe accounting. It’s what my parents would expect from me, but taking over the family business isn’t something that excites me. Maybe architecture or maybe, somet
hing completely unexpected.”

  I’m not sure what she means by that. I want to ask, but it doesn’t seem like she knows herself by the look on her face. We are both just two people trying to find ourselves. I swim over to her, where she is perched perfectly in a rubber tube. Her sunglasses sit atop her small nose. She doesn’t seem to notice until I’m truly invading her space and leaning against her tube.

  “Uh, hey,” she fumbles, awkwardly at that. Her shoulders look tense and despite trying to look at her, she won’t look me right in the eyes.

  “You could do anything, you know? You’re really smart. I bet you achieve anything you set your mind to.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You’re really smart too. You have a lot of skills…but it’s not about smarts in this world. It’s about opportunity. And I have every opportunity at my fingertips.” She doesn’t say it smugly, she says it like she’s disappointed. She’s finally discovered the secret to life in this very moment, and yet she doesn’t seem happy about it.

  Before I even know what’s happening, I’ve leaned across her tube, and pulled her face into mine and pressed my lips into hers for a kiss. It’s not rough like I’m used to, but it’s not gentle. It’s firm. I hold her to me for just a second longer than I should. She should not be feeling guilt for her good fortune. That has not ever been my intentions. I slip my tongue inside and gently taste her lips. They are salty like sweat or the ocean and I want more, so much more, but I never get the chance because she pulls back. I prepare for the excuses to hit me, “This can’t happen,” “I can’t help you anymore.” Or at least, “We can’t do this.” But nothing comes. I smile wryly, trying to mask it, but I find a little joy in the shock sitting on her face. There’s no denying the heat between us, she feels it just as much as I do. She pulls her bangs behind her ears and looks away with a light pink blush crossing her cheeks. I shouldn’t have done that. I have absolutely zero right to own anything of hers, but I’m selfish. I’ve always been selfish, and I want to own her insecurities, and her passion, and I want to feel her tongue on mine, and in all honesty, I want way more than those things. I want to see every inch of her unclothed and desperate, for me.