Charm School After Dark: Lesson 1 (17 page)

Caelen held up a simulated pink vagina that vaguely reminded her of a skinned rat. “What in the hell?”

“That is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. Why would men want something like that?” Brynn asked as she adjusted her glasses to get a better look, equally fascinated and appalled.

“Who knows? Desperation? And why did they think those colors would be appealing? Ew.”

“Hey, do you think any of these have been used?”

Both girls dropped everything in their hands, and Brynn immediately pulled some hand sanitizer out of her purse.

Caelen doused her hands, even as she said, “You know how meticulous Ms. Belle was. No way she’d allow dirty equipment.”

“You might be right, but I’m not taking any chances.”

“Look.” Caelen found a set in the back—all still in original packaging. There was a vibrator with about 22 different rotations, spins and twirls. If she were alone she might have ripped it out of its casing and taken care of herself. The throbbing between her legs was putting her in a bad mood. Not that she had anyone to blame but herself.

Why? Because she’d made the stupid rules. She’d set the boundaries. She’d said no touching, and damn, he was a really good toucher. All to prove something to herself, that she could be in control; that she could manipulate a man and not get involved; that she could be completely removed.

Three more days. Three more days of her mouth on Dare’s delicious dick and she had no release in sight. At least, not from him and for whatever reason, that was all she could think about.

Too bad she hadn’t brought her own vibrator from home. No way she’d steal from Ms. Belle’s stash, but she was going to have to do something soon—and fast. The whole thing made her want to scream.

Brynn’s voice snapped her out of her reverie. “So what’s really going on with you?”

Caelen froze. This was the conversation she’d been hoping to avoid. Brynn was too perceptive. It was much harder for Caelen to resist Brynn’s gentle interrogations compared to Athena’s Pit bull approach. Inevitably, within every family some siblings grew closer than others. Though she’d take a bullet for any of the Quads, she’d always been especially close to Brynn. Caelen fell back on old habits and tried to employ diversion tactics. “What do you mean? With Dare? It’s nothing serious.”

“I’m not talking about him.”

Caelen shrugged and pulled out an intricate metal garment made solely of interlocking chains. “What the hell is this?”

Brynn removed the iron mess from her grasp, dropped it back in the trunk, and took her by the hand, leading her to the sofa against the wall of the room. “Come on, Baby C. Where have you been the last six months?”

“What do you mean?” she muttered. “I’ve been around. I talked to you at least once a week.”

“Yeah, but before that we’d talk every day. Are you ever going to tell me the real story?”

Caelen eyes welled up as she settled in a seat next to her sister. “I got in over my head, Brynn.”

She didn’t budge. Her sister’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t take her in her arms as she expected. “Talk.”

All of the shame from the past few months raced through her veins, weighing her down, overwhelming her. All the secrets felt like acid, burning deep, and she figured it was time to confess some sins. Caelen took a deep breath. “I told you about my job, and I told you about my boss.”

Brynn nodded.

“H-he was married.”

Caelen waited for the shocked gasp, the scream, the recriminations, but all that greeted her was silence.

“I thought something like that might be going on.”

Caelen peeked up, and her sister appeared… thoughtful. “Do you hate me now?”

“Hate you? I love you. I just—”

Here it comes
. “Just what? Can’t believe what a whore I am?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. I just think it was a stupid move, and you’re far from stupid.”

The floodgates opened. “Well, that just shows how stupid you are to not know how stupid I am.”

Brynn laughed and finally closed the distance between them by leaning forward in her seat. She took her in her arms and Caelen felt the tears slowly roll down her face, but she somehow avoided a diva-sized meltdown.

“I can’t say I’m surprised, though.”

Pulling back while sniffling, Caelen ran her fingers under her eyelids, trying to keep her mascara from tracking down her cheeks. “What does that mean? You had me pegged as a home wrecker from the start?”

“No, no… that’s not what I meant.” Brynn sighed and looked Caelen dead in the eye. “It’s the same pattern, over and over. When are you going to wake up and realize you don’t have to punish yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not going to want to hear this.”

Pattern? What pattern? She’d never dated a married man before. The anger started to build and she latched on; any emotion was better than the regret that sat on her chest like a rock. “So don’t tell me, then.”

“You have dated assholes from the start. Every single guy you’ve been involved with has been a user.”

“That’s not true! Except for Bobby in high school, but that doesn’t mean they were all jerks.”

“Really. Name one that was even a
semi
-decent guy.”

Caelen wracked her brain. Bobby had been a total asshole but what about Tom? Pot dealer. Dalton was more obsessed with his acting career than her, but… “Lance was super-sweet.”

“And super-gay. Keep trying.”

Caelen snapped her fingers in triumph. “Billy Rodriguez. Ha! So there.”

“Billy? Who is—You mean Billy Rodriquez from
fourth
grade? That’s the best you can do?”

“You asked for an example, I gave you one,” she mumbled. It suddenly became imperative to clean up the “sex toy mess” scattered around the trunk. She got up from the couch, picked up the vaginas and dildos and started tossing them back in the trunk. “I can’t believe you think every guy I’ve dated is an asshole.”

“Look. It’s not about the guys; it’s about
you.
Caelen, look at me. You’re gorgeous, funny and really, really smart. But you hide. You hide from the world, and I bet you’ve never really shown them the real you. You can’t even wear normal clothes. Everything is a costume,
armor
you wear to protect yourself against the world.”

“What do my clothes have to do with who I date?” Caelen straightened, her mouth agape. This was what her sister really thought about her? That she was a fraud, a
fake?

“Come on. Even when you meet a guy, you aren’t really yourself. You play the cutesy, dumb girl who gets away with everything, because of her looks. Only a handful of guys know how sarcastic and funny you really are.”

“You know what? I dress up because I love clothes, not because I’m hiding. And there are a lot of assholes out there, but now my clothes have something to do with me dating them? Come on, Brynn.”

“No, it’s because you’re driving the good ones away. Only the total ass hats are looking for a trophy to wear on their arm. You’re better than that.”

Am I? Am I better than that?

“Ever since dad left, you’ve punished yourself with these jerks. If you secretly think that all guys are users and you make sure to date only users, then I guess you’ll end up getting used. Your boss is no different.”

Brynn had never spoken to her like this before. She’d always been about support, and because of it, Caelen had never mentioned Brynn’s own issue. All four sisters’ houses were made of glass, so they usually made sure to avoid all stones. “So where is it?”

“What?” Brynn asked with a scrunched up face.

“The psych degree you must have completed since I spoke to you yesterday.” Caelen stood, adjusting her flyaway dress, making sure nothing was riding high. “I can’t believe you.”

“Caelen, I don’t—” Brynn lifted her hand toward her sister and then dropped it as Caelen backed away.

“You don’t, what? You don’t
really
have a degree in Psychology? No shit. You teach English Literature at community college. Do me a favor, and the next time someone confides in you, tell them to find somebody else. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me because I dated a married man. But now you’re telling me that every significant relationship I’ve had was nothing more than me working out my daddy issues? Come on, Brynn. I don’t need this right now.” Caelen felt ridiculous for bringing this up, but it’d truly pissed her off, and she was so mad she was beyond caring how stupid she sounded. “And I don’t wear armor. Armor is ugly!”

“Not literally! Are you insane? I meant you hide behind your clothes. It’s armor because people can’t get to know the real you; they see a costume.”

“You’re calling vintage Chanel a
costume?”
She could barely get the words past her lips. Her tongue felt thick with rage, slow moving and heavy.

“No.” Brynn threw her hands in the air. “Just stop talking about the clothes. It’s not about what you wear, it’s about you!”

“You just said—”

“Focus, Caelen! And stop pretending like you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t let the men in your life near you. You don’t let them see
you.”
Brynn snatched off her glasses and tossed them on a nearby able. Her normally soft-spoken voice had risen several octaves.

“My clothes bring out the real me. They make me better.”

“Really? You look like Courtney Love Part Two from the ’90s. How is anyone supposed to take you seriously when you’re dressed like that?”

“Courtney Love? You better be talking about Oscar nominee Courtney Love and
not
heroin addict Courtney Love!” she spluttered.

“You don’t look like you’re on drugs. That’s not my point. I—”

“This, for your information, is a capped sleeve modern take on the ’90s baby-doll dress. My ‘work from home’ attire. It’s comfortable and cute. And today,
I’m working from home.”

Brynn’s words felt like a knife to the chest. Of all the things her sister could lecture her about, she picked her wardrobe? Caelen had been obsessed with fashion since they were kids; it was
everything
to her. If it was time to air the dirty laundry, then Caelen had a whole hamper full. “And what about you? Projecting much? You’re the one who’s really hiding.”

“What? I don’t care about clothes. I hate dressing up.”

“Exactly.
You don’t care about clothes. It’s superficial and shallow to care about your appearance, right? Isn’t that what you and your colleagues think about people like me? Everyone in academia is obsessed with doctorates and degrees, not fashion. You’re too smart and educated to care about something as stupid as your appearance. But what you won’t admit is, it’s your own ‘potato sack’ version of armor.”

“A potato sack! What?”

“That’s right. Every day you wear dark jeans or slacks, a white shirt and an oversized and very
beige
cardigan. I’m sick of it. And if I’m wearing armor, at least it is the VIP, exclusive version instead of general admission.”

“What?”

“You have a beautiful body. You’re tall, your legs go on for miles, and you are naturally thin.
And
you were blessed with the Calvo ass, so you have, like, the
perfect
body. You could be a friggin’ supermodel!”

“Stop screaming compliments at me. I don’t know how to respond.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not finished. When was the last time you took your hair out of that pony?
And
this is probably the first time in months where you actually took off those stupid hipster glasses.”

“Yes. I wear glasses, because I want to
see.
Your eyesight is worse than mine; you’re the one who should be wearing them. You just don’t want to admit it.

“I admit it all the time.” Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Victor never even knew she wore glasses.

“And they’re not hipster. They’re just a little oversized,” Brynn muttered.

“Whatever. You’re a mess, too. Plus, don’t think I didn’t notice that you haven’t been calling me all that much, either.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Brynn threw her hands in the air. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just trying to help. Why are we screaming at each other?”

“I’m screaming, because I’m upset!” Her breath caught on a hitch. “And I thought if anyone understood me – and how much I love fashion – it was you. But all along you thought I was a joke, parading around in costumes.”

“That’s not what I meant, at all. I don’t—”

Caelen knew she should talk it out with her sister and best friend in the world, but she just couldn’t. Fleeing seemed the best course of action, and certainly the most cowardly. Caelen wouldn’t have said a word if Brynn had blasted her about Victor being married, but a total dissection of her love life, plus unwarranted and asinine fashion advice?
Hell to the no.
Too much was taking up room on her plate; she had no time for this. “Save it, I’m out.”

Chapter 18

‡

2 Days and Counting…

C
AELEN TEETERED PRECARIOUSLY
on the rickety bike she’d found in Ms. Belle’s shed. Her bulky “costume,” as Brynn would describe it, along with her heavy backpack stocked with only the essentials, were weighing her down. All she needed now was the Wicked Witch’s theme song playing in the background as she wound her way through Sierra Madre’s quant neighborhoods.
Da nuh, da nuh, da nuh nuuuh…

Bungalows and craftsman style homes lined the streets, with the towering San Gabriel Mountains as the majestic backdrop. Such a pretty town. Why had she been so hell bent on making it to L.A., which was surrounded by smog, traffic, and cheating bastards who say they’re leaving their wives, but never do?

A quick glance at her wrist, which wasn’t easy to do while steering the bike, told her it was close to nine. After a full day of planning, hustling, organizing, conniving and begging for every shred of help she could get for the classes, she was still furious with Brynn. Not even a whole box of Pop Tarts had changed that. So she’d taken to the streets to prove a point.