Cruise Control (Watchers Crew) (15 page)

A hand reached out and touched my shoulder. I turned and smacked it away.

“Don’t touch me,” I snarled. “Don’t you ever touch me again. Don’t you ever talk to me again.”

I covered my ears and took off at a run.

Chapter Twenty

I woke up alone in my childhood bed. I’d been home many times before over the two years I’d been away at college, but this morning was the first time the bed felt too small for my body. There were lumps in the mattress I hadn’t noticed before. The room smelled stuffy as though my mother kept the doors and windows closed.

My clit throbbed in need of attention. I’d left the vibe back in my dorm room. The constant aching had kept me awake all night. Sometime around three in the morning, I reached my hand between my thighs to answer its cries.
 

I didn’t start slow. There was no teasing. My strokes were a full on assault of my pussy. It was part frustration, part anger, part desperation to get my body under control; back under my control.

I rubbed myself vigorously, trying to keep my mind blank of any and all thought. I only allowed myself to feel. To feel my slippery fingers on the terrain of my pussy as I stirred it to life. I got close. Closer than I’d ever gotten before on my own.

I scrambled up that cliff by sheer force of will. At the top I thrust my fingers into my pussy and pushed myself up the cliff. But I faltered at the edge, looking down at the place I so desperately wanted to be, the place I so desperately needed to be.

I rocked my hips along with the movements of my hand inching myself closer and closer to the edge. I thought about all the times I’d been flung off that cliff into oblivion. I mimicked the panting sounds of falling. I imitated the guttural sounds of crashing into bliss.

And then, it happened.

A tiny tremor broke free from my core. It was small, but it was enough. My pussy clenched around that tremor, stoking its embers. Tears stung my eyes as I let out a half groan, half laugh at my accomplishment.

“Kira? You awake?”

I wrenched my hand out of my panties. “Yeah, Momma. I’ll be out in a minute.”

I waited until I heard my mother’s footsteps go down the hall before I got out of bed. I changed my underwear, pulling the fabric over my happy pussy. It may have been a small treat, but it was a big deal to me. It proved I didn’t need him after all, which was good because it appeared I never had him in the first place.

I looked over to my cell phone on my nightstand. The flashing lights indicated that I had voice messages, texts, and emails that were unanswered. I left the phone there, untouched, and headed out of my bedroom.

I walked out into the living room where my mother sat by the window, a cigarette in between her fingers. She took a long pull as she looked out of the window at the empty street. Her other hand rested on a house phone.

“Hey, Momma.”

“You want breakfast?”

“No, Momma. I was thinking about taking a walk.”

“Okay, pick up a pack of Kools for me.”

“Why don’t you come with me?”

My mother tore her eyes away from the window. Her fingers grasped the phone. “You know I can’t leave, Shakira. What if your father calls and needs me to come pick him up? What if I’m not here when he comes home?” She pulled the phone into her lap and turned back to the window, taking another pull of her cigarette. “He forgot his key the last time he left. I don’t want to leave just to have to run back home. Like I always told you, a man isn’t really yours if you have to chase after him. Why don’t you sit with me for a while?”

I sat down in the folding chair beside her, not the comforter opposite her; that was my father’s chair. Its cushions were plump as though it hadn’t been sat in for weeks, maybe months this time. I had no idea the last time my father returned home this year.
 

My mother kept this place exactly as it had been when my dad lived here full time. No additions of trinkets, no subtractions of anything. She sat bound to that chair with no ropes, not even a voice command. My father didn’t care if she came or went. But she chose to always be here just in case he called or stopped by because a real woman always stood by her man, even if he wasn’t there.

I shook my mother’s voice out of my head. “I gotta get back to campus, Momma. Exams are coming up.”

She nodded her head, her attention focused off in the distance up the street. I doubt it registered when I walked out the door.

*******

I turned in my biology exam, certain I’d aced it. I’d spouted a lot of bullshit about natural selection and the Theory of Super Fecundity. To solve Darwin’s issues of organisms producing more offspring than what’s required to replace themselves, I recommended that the world adapt to a polyamorous model of matriarchy where one woman would mate with a number of males. She could only have one to two offspring at any one time. If none of the males were sure of the paternity then they’d all be compelled to care for the woman and the child. To prove my theory, I pointed to bees, which my biology tutor, Ellie, had pointed to as an example early in our sessions. I was certain my Biology 101 professor, who was an older female, would get a kick out of the paper if nothing else.

With that over, I made my way out of the classroom and ran into Ellie. She was dressed in jean shorts and a t-shirt. I realized I’d never seen her out of knee length skirts… or naked.

“How are you?” she asked.
 

I shrugged, not wanting to discuss my break up. Ellie reached out for my shoulder. I let her touch me, not realizing until she did how much I needed the contact.

“If you need somebody to talk to, I’m here,” she said. “I doubt any of your other girlfriends would understand the choices you made in the last few weeks.”

I didn’t really have other girlfriends. I’d never trusted them to not try and steal my man. I looked at Ellie with her trusting blue eyes and friendly smile. It was the same smile she’d given me when she agreed to fuck my boyfriend to show me that there was nothing to worry about in sharing sexual partners. I should feel angry with her for opening the door and then her legs, but I didn’t. She’d only been trying to help then. I believed she was trying to help me now.

“I thought he was different,” I said. “I thought if we kept everything out in the open I wouldn’t get hurt. But he lied to me. He cheated on me just like all the others.”
 

Ellie led me to a bench under a tree. “When you say he cheated, what do you mean exactly?”

“He fucked another woman. It’s the one thing we agreed he would not do -without my okay first. I was trying to live his lifestyle. I did everything he asked. And he couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

“Did he actually take it out of his pants with this other woman?” Ellie asked.

“He was playing with her clit. Fondling is fucking in my book.”

“I’m not discounting what you feel,” Ellie continued, rubbing my shoulder. “But I think you should talk to him. I suspect fondling is not in his definition of fucking.”
 

“All men are just selfish, immature, and incapable of commitment. This whole fuck-my-friends thing is just a cover to fuck whoever he wants without taking any responsibility. I thought I could deal with it. How do you?”

Ellie leaned back against the bench and thought about her answer before giving it to me. “It’s not that I don’t get angry or jealous when Hawk’s with somebody else. I didn’t when he was with you because I know you. I feel more comfortable when he’s fucking somebody I know.”

“Well, I’m sorry, sis, but I don’t think I’ll be fucking your boyfriend again any time soon. I don’t think I’ll be fucking any man again anytime soon. It’s times like these that I wish I were a lesbian.”

Ellie chuckled. “I’m sure lesbians have the same problems as heterosexuals. What I’ve realized is that when I’m feeling a way about Hawk having sex with someone else it’s rarely his fault.”
 

I recoiled at her statement.
 

Ellie held up her hands in a stop motion. “Just listen for a sec. When I get jealous or angry it’s usually because of something I’m insecure about. If we argue, and we have, it’s never about sex. Maybe I feel like another girl is more attractive than me. Or she has better moves. And that all might be true. But those are my issues. Hawk thinks I’m beautiful, and he’s happy just to hold me in his arms.”  

My phone buzzed in my pocketbook. We both looked down at my purse. I didn’t need to take it out to know who was calling me. Again.

“Do you think this could be about something else?” Ellie hedged.

“You’re asking if this is somehow my fault?”

“No, that’s -"

“I gave him total control over me and he abused that power and fucked someone else. I’m tired of being fucked over. I’m just going to stay by myself.”

I got up and marched away, leaving Ellie behind and my phone buried in my purse.

I stomped across the grounds, trying to drown out Ellie’s accusations. How could she think this was possibly my fault? I hadn’t broken my promise to Owl. I’d given him more than I’d been prepared to give, and he took advantage. I was serious with what I’d said; I was done with men, done with dating. I obviously wasn’t cut out for it.

I saw girls sitting under a tree, pretending to have a conversation with each other while looking at their phones and alternately looking around at the guys walking around the campus. They plumped up their breasts and flicked their hair any time one would come near.

I saw a couple embracing on a blanket. That look of love and devotion was in the girl’s eyes. The guy looked up at me and winked.

I moved past it all without looking back. I made my way to my dorm. Only to find that what I was trying to get away from was there sitting on the floor outside my door.

Chapter Twenty-One

Owl didn’t get up when he saw me enter the hall. He just stared at me, his eyes drinking me in. He sat with his back against my dorm room door in dark jeans and a white, collared shirt. His legs were stretched out before him like he’d been there for quite a while.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” I said.

He looked down at his phone in his hand and nodded. Slowly, he brought his legs up under him and stood. He put his phone in his pocket. He brushed off the back of his pants and took a step.

I thought he was going to go. My heart screamed in my chest to stop him. It was the struggle of my life to stay still and silent.

“I’m going to…” He stopped, cleared his throat, and then started again. “I would like to apologize for what happened the other day first, and then I’ll go. I owe that much to you.”

He stood there silently, waiting for my response. I wondered if I told him no, that I didn’t want to hear any apology, to just go, would he?

His hands rested at his sides. I looked down at the floor instead of looking at the fingers that had been on that other woman. When I said nothing, I guess he took that as a sign to continue.

“I shouldn’t have commanded you to come in the middle of the street like that. It was a violation and I’m sorry.”
 

I glanced up at him. He stood there looking contrite and miserable. I heard my heart, as well as my resolve, crack at the sight of him. I had been so angry these last twenty-four hours I’d never thought about what he must be going through.

Wait, no. I didn’t care what he was going through. He brought this on himself.

“That’s it?” I asked. “That’s all?”

Owl’s handsome face crumbled in confusion. “Well, yes. I took advantage of something sacred between us by ordering you to come out in the wide-open while you were vulnerable. That was a betrayal of your trust. I promise you it will never happen again, and I hope you will forgive me. I’m willing to work to regain your trust.”

I stared at him, trying to find his angle. Was he going to pretend the rest of it didn’t happen? “What about the other part?”

He frowned, looking around the hall for a clue. “What other part?”

I dropped my bag on the floor and jerked my finger in the direction of his chest. “You cheated on me.”

Owl held up his hands. It was a move of placation more than self-protection. When he spoke, he spoke very slowly as though I were a child just learning the English language. “Kira, aside from Ellie, who you said I could have sex with, I never fucked anyone after we committed to each other.”

“Owl, I saw you with my own eyes. You had your hands on that woman.”

“What woman?”

“In the garage.”

He paused and tilted his head up as though to shake the memory lose. “Yeah, my hands. Not my mouth or my dick.”

I stared at him. He truly didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. I turned away from him, rubbing at the back of my neck.
 

Ellie was right. What I saw and what he did were two different things in each of our eyes. A hysterical laugh bubbled up and out of me.

“That’s what we agreed on,” he said. “Is touching like fucking to you?”

“Yes.” The word came out on a choked laugh as I turned around to face him. “Yeah, Owl. Touching a woman’s clit, even flicking at it, which sounds painful, is still fucking her in my book.”

He approached me cautiously, his hands up where I could see them. “It’s not to me,” he said softly, gently. “I didn’t understand that’s what it meant to you. I was not trying to hurt you. I would never hurt you.”
 

His voice was so coaxing. I wanted more than anything to believe him. To go into his arms and lay my head in that space in the middle of his chest that fit me so well. To listen as our heartbeats fell naturally into sync.  

He hadn’t meant to hurt me. It had been a mistake, a misunderstanding. He was owning up to it, not hiding from it. He saw that it hurt me and he was apologizing. He was promising not to do it again.

I believed him. I saw in his eyes that he was telling the truth. Owl always told the truth.
 

He stood before me, his arms outstretched, but he wasn’t touching me. I watched his fingers jerk and tremble, as though reaching for me on their own accord, but he kept them away.

“If I had known it would’ve hurt you,” he said, “I wouldn’t have done it. Can we please go inside and talk about this?”