On the Ropes (Down for the Count) (18 page)

“As long as we persevere and endure, we can get anything we want.”

—Mike Tyson

“Alright, here we are,” I announce, standing in front of my motorcycle.

“I don’t see why we can’t take my car,” the fear in her voice is obvious as she stares at my bike.

“We can’t take your car because I need to get home. You don’t want me driving your car home tonight, do you?”

“I think I’m just going to call my friend, Daniela. She’ll come pick me up.”

“Suit yourself.” I lean up against my bike.

She searches through her purse for her phone. “Where the hell is it?” she sounds exasperated.

“Where’s what?”

“My stupid phone. I can’t find it,” she looks as if she’s going to start crying. “I really didn’t need this tonight. I have a huge exam coming up on Monday that I’ll probably fail now.” She suddenly dumps the contents of her purse onto the sidewalk.

Holding my phone out to her, I offer, “You wanna use mine?”

“Sure,” she mutters, taking the phone from my hand. But then, she just stands there staring at it.

“Well, are you gonna call her or what?”

“I can’t remember her freakin’ number,” tears begin to stream down her face.

“If it’s that much of a big deal, we’ll take your car. I can drop it off to you in the morning.”

“Really?” she sniffs back her tears as her big, baby blues lock onto mine. My stomach instantly does a somersault.
What is it about her?

“Yeah, come on.” I help her stuff her things back in her bag, then wrap my arm around her back to give her a soft hug. “Where’d you park?”

Neither of us speaks as we walk to her car and I’m completely content with her curled up against me. Her breathing has returned to normal and she’s no longer gasping to catch her breath from crying.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she breaks our silence.

“Do you want me to be mean to you?”

She lets out a small laugh, “You know what I mean.”

“Do you think I’d leave you stranded?”

“Well, I haven’t been very nice to you. I just figure you’d rather hang out with your friends and celebrate your win.”

“I can hang out with those guys anytime. Plus, I’d much rather chauffeur a pretty lady around.”

“You can always come back after you drop me off, it’s still pretty early,” she suggests.

“That is a possibility, but I’ll probably just go home. I’m pretty tired.”

She comes to a standstill and begins rustling through her purse.

“I can’t wait to drive this baby,” I raise my eyebrows at her as she hands me her keys.

“You better go easy on her, she’s brand new,” she warns me.

“She?” I laugh.

“Yes, she.”

“Did you name her too?” I’m doing my best not to burst out laughing.

“No, I didn’t name her.”

“Oh my God,” I’m trying to fit into the driver’s seat, but I’m practically eating my knees, “do you drive with your chest hitting the steering wheel?”

“Hey, I can’t help that I’m short.”

“You gotta be kidding me!”

“What?” she asks.

“You drive a standard?”

“Yes. Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I dunno, I guess I figured you’d drive an automatic like everyone else.”

“No way,” she shakes her head. “Driving a standard makes you feel like you’re driving a race car,” her eyes light up.

A big smile grows across my face at her excitement. “I’ve got the perfect name for her.”

“Oh yeah… what?”

“Cherry.”

“Cherry? Because she’s red?”

“No, because I’m gonna pop her cherry,” I throw the car into first and peel out of the parking spot.

“Oh my God! We’re gonna die,” she yells, bracing herself. One hand is on the interior roof of the car while the other is gripping the handle on the door.

“Hey, you’re the one who said the words ‘race car’,” I laugh. She looks terrified.

We’re flying down the highway when Salem finally loosens her death grip on the door handle. “Do you have any idea where you’re going?” she turns her head in my direction.

“Nope,” my eyes are on the road. I have no intentions of bringing her home right away; I want to learn more about her.

“So, come on, where are you taking me?”

“I really have no idea. I thought we could just drive for a while, unless you need to study?”

“No, it’s not like I’m going to be able to concentrate anyways,” she silently looks out her window for a moment, then turns towards me, “So we’re just going to drive around?”

“Yup. Don’t you ever get in your car and just drive?”

“No. Why would I do that?”

“To relax.”

“Relax? If I want to relax, I’ll go to a spa.”

I chuckle, “Well, that’s where you and I differ. I have no desire to have some dude give me a Swedish massage or a facial.”

“The spa that I go to has only female masseuses.”

“Oh really? Well then, maybe we should head to your spa. Do you think they’d give me a happy ending?”

“Or you can just go back to Shikago’s and let ‘Hello Kitty’ finish what she started,” she responds coldly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I had no idea she’d seen Kitten touching me.

“Oh puh-leeze, I’m not blind. I saw her,” she looks at me with disgust.

“Does it bother you that she was touching me?”

“No. Why would it bother me? I have a boyf…” she stops suddenly.

“Well, since you brought him up, why don’t you tell me what happened back there?”

“There’s nothing to tell, really. We got into an argument on the way back to my place after the fight. Then we…” she pauses, smiling a little.

“We what?” I ask impatiently.

“We made up.”

“Made up?” I look at her, puzzled.

“Yeah, we… ah… you know…” she says bashfully.

“Oh, you fucked him!”

“Ugh. You’re such a Neanderthal,” she groans. “We made love.”

“Call it what you want, doll. Make love, fuck, bumpin’ uglies, hide the salami, fornicating; it all means the same thing. So you fucked? I’m still not getting how you turned into stalker girlfriend at Shikago’s.”

“First of all, I wasn’t ‘stalker girlfriend,’” she raises her index finger at me.

“If you say so,” I bark with laughter.

“If you’d let me finish my story,” she turns, giving me a look.

“By all means, continue.”

“He told me he wasn’t going to go out, that he’d rather stay home with me.”

“Bullshiiiit!” I cough, covering my mouth.

“Ha, ha, ha. You’re so funny,” she rolls her eyes at me.

I can’t control my laughter at this point; I just love getting her going. “Okay, okay. I’m done. I’ll let you finish.”

“Anyways, after we made love I went to take a shower. When I got out, he was gone. No note. No nothing.”

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me.”

“No! I’m not kidding. Now do you see why I’m so pissed?”

“So he fucked and chucked you? Damn, that’s pretty messed up, even to me. I would’ve at least waited until you fell asleep,” I try to make light of the situation.

She turns her head to look out the window, and I hear her mutter, “Neanderthal.”

“Would you stop calling me a Neanderthal?!
I’m
not the one who fucked and left you alone,” I say angrily. I’ve had enough of her calling me a Neanderthal. I’m the one who protected her ass when her dickhead boyfriend was doing “God knows what” with Mistress Sydney in the backroom.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it out on you. You’re not the one I’m pissed at.”

“So, does he do this to you often?”

She winces at my words. I guess I just got my answer without her saying a word. She’s very quiet after that, just staring out the window as I drive, and the silence starts getting to me after a while.

“Do you mind if I turn the radio on?” I ask.

“No, go ahead,” she answers softly.

I turn the radio on, pressing the buttons that she has pre-programmed. Button one, Lady Gaga is playing. I hit the next button, Justin Timberlake. Button number three, Katy Perry. “How can you listen to this shit?” I finally blurt out.

“There’s nothing wrong with any of these songs,” she hisses at me while shooting a dirty look my way.

“Where’s the Rock N’ Roll? Van Halen, Motley Crue, Metallica… anything?”

“Really? You’ve got to be kidding me. No radio stations play that crap,” she shakes her head at me.

“You wanna bet?” I look at her.

“You’re joking,” she laughs.

“No, I’m being totally serious. I’ll bet you dinner.”

“Dinner?” she asks, cocking her head.

“Yeah, dinner. You do eat, don’t you?”

“Yes, I eat.”

“Okay then, so if I find a rockin’ song playing on the radio right now, you have to go out to dinner with me.”

“And if you don’t?”

“Then this will be the last time you’ll ever have to spend any time with me and I’ll bring you home right now.”

“Deal,” she holds her hand out and we shake on it.

My hand hovers over the “Search” button on the radio. “Let me do it,” she insists, pushing my hand away, “you just concentrate on driving.”

“Fine, but when you find one, you better let the song play for at least thirty seconds so we can hear it.”

“That’s fine. You’re going to lose, anyways,” she’s very sure of herself and gives me a smug smile.

Her index finger hits the button and the first song that comes on is “Blurred Lines.” “Crap, keep going,” I push her finger to depress the button again.

“Hey! I was listening to that,” she complains.

“If we’re going to listen to every song that plays, we’re gonna run out of gas.”

“Fine,” she sulks.

The next channel is classical, so she keeps going. After another ten channels that all consist of rap, top forty, and easy listening, she jabs me. “It’s not looking too good for you. You might want to turn around at the next exit.”

“It’s not over ‘til the fat lady sings,” I take over the search. “Oh hey, will ya look at that, the fat lady
is
singing!” an Adele song is playing.

She laughs at my joke. “You’re mean. There are only a few more channels until we’re back to where we began.”

“I have faith that the Rock N’ Roll gods won’t let me down,” I push the button one more time and there it is, the famous guitar riff and scream. “Wooooooooo… Wooooooooo… Cha! Welcome to the Jungle…” Axl Rose’s signature voice comes pouring into the car. “YES! Ha,” I crank up the volume until it’s blaring and start banging my head to the music.

Salem immediately covers her ears to block the sound. Her lips begin to move, but I can’t hear what she’s saying over the music.

“What?” I say loudly, raising my hand to my ear. “I can’t hear you.”

She begins to speak again and still, I hear nothing.

“Huh?”

Angrily, she reaches for the volume, but I swat her hand away. “Hands off, I’m listening to my victory song!”

She shoots me a nasty look, then sits back into her seat, and crosses her arms.
She’s obviously used to getting her way.

As the song comes to an end, I turn the volume down, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“Never mind,” she pouts.

“I see I have a sore loser on my hands,” I grin and give her a wink.

“I’m not a sore loser,” she’s scowling.

“Then why are you pissed off?”

“I’m not pissed.”

“Okay, if you say so,” I’m irritated now. I’m done playing her games, I won the bet fair and square. I veer into the left lane and start slowing down.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“The next exit isn’t for at least fifteen miles,” she insists.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’m doing this,” I crank the wheel to the left, cutting across the median and onto the highway, going the opposite direction.

“You’re crazy!” she screams, reaching down for my arm and digging her nails into my skin.

“Ahhh,” I wail in pain and quickly pull my arm from her grip. I feel blood begin to trickle down my arm. “What the fuck?”

“I thought you were going to kill us,” she’s breathing heavily.

“Kill us? I pulled a U-turn and there’s no one on the road but us.”

“Just take me home,” she snaps at me.

“Gladly,” I grip the steering wheel tightly.

How could we go from having a good time of laughing and joking to not even speaking? We drive in silence for about ten miles before I can’t take it anymore. I reach for the volume and turn it up a little. “Smokin’ in the Boys Room” by Motley Crue is playing. I smile to myself and turn it up a bit more. I tap out the beat of the music with my thumbs on the steering wheel as I drive.

“What exit am I getting off?”

“Exit fifteen,” is all I get in reply.
Man, she’s bitchy.

“That was back to back Motley Crue here on ‘Nights with Alice Cooper,’” we hear the DJ announce.

Salem twists her body towards me, nearly jumping out of her seat, “You tricked me!”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“Nights with Alice Cooper,” she points to the radio.

“Yeah… so?” I shrug my shoulders.

“Like you didn’t know it was going to be on,” she purses her lips.

“Seriously, you really think highly of yourself, don’t you?” I shake my head.

“What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”

“You actually think I’d go to the trouble to trick you about the song, just to win dinner with you?”

She stares out the passenger’s window to avoid me.

“Wow! You’re a real piece of work.”

“Just take me home,” she demands.

“Oh, I am.”

I’ve never met a woman that makes me feel like I want to both kill
and
fuck her senseless at the same time; until now. It’s aggravating as hell. I try getting a look at her from the corner of my eye, but all I can see is a shadow with its arms crossed.
She’s a freakin’ spoiled brat.

“Exit fifteen is next,” she informs me.

“Yeah, I know. I can read.”

“I didn’t mean that you can’t read,” she apologizes.

“Oh really? ‘Cause, you know, I’m a Neanderthal and all, and I’m pretty sure cavemen can’t read.”

She sighs heavily at my snarky response.