Wanted Always (Xander Barns) (3 page)

On this thought, Daniels pulls the car on
to the highway.

“Would you like to listen to some music?”
he asks while making the turn.

“That would be great right about now. Rock
n Roll if available, please,” I answer him.

“That’s not a problem.” Daniels turns the
radio dial and settles on the local rock station. A familiar hard-rock tune
overtakes the entire vehicle; my blood sizzles in inspiration as the lyrics and
the beat of the music hit every inch of my body.

Yeah, that’s better.

****

I should have known.

When we enter the parking lot of the
Pacific Banquet Hall, the entire lot is packed.

Jesus, how many people did mom invite?
I ponder, hypnotized by the number of
bumpers Daniels is driving past on our way to the facility’s front entrance.
Mom must have planned an all-out soiree with all the bells and whistles. I
thought it was just a regular little party, judging by the pathetic e-invite I
received just a week ago. I stare down at my—
thank God—
fabulous dress.
To think I was going to show up to this party in the clothes I originally
planned to wear. Even though the shirt had cost me half of my last paycheck, it
would have been the same old Marisa. The echo of disapproving hums all over
again as soon as I’d enter, after five months of not seeing anyone. They
wouldn’t be shocked that I hadn’t really changed. I’d dare show up to my dad’s
fiftieth birthday party extravaganza wearing jeans, yes, nice party jeans, but
nevertheless jeans, so in a nutshell, inappropriate as hell.

Mother would be pleased; it’s a real shame
she forgot to mention a dress code for this shindig. But I guess she told all
her dear and close friends what the party was going to be like, then sent the
poor excuse for an invitation with nothing more than a date, time, and place to
little old me.

I am just her daughter.

I’m not important enough to be let in on
the big secret.

Or is it a plan?

Has she planned this to humiliate me? To
show everyone that I am never going to change? She knows I am not going to miss
my dad’s birthday party, no matter what; unlike her, I actually like my dad.
I’d skip her birthday party, no doubt about that.

While thinking what tonight’s event could
have potentially been like, I smooth my dress gratefully for the one hundredth
time. It isn’t going to turn out bad; I’m dressed to impress. My clothes were
picked by an obvious top stylist, my hair was done up by a hair whisperer, and
my makeup was applied by a master.

Yeah, I’m ready, ready to trample inside
and give death glares to anyone who has the gall to address me in any other
matter besides pure class.

I’m ready, so
freakin’
ready.

Daniels pulls the car to the front
entrance. I stare out, watching the party-goers walk with their families on the
sidewalk, all dressed to the nines, just like I am.

A cold shiver tickles across my back as I
examine each of their glossy, primed to a T outfits. The prospect of actually
showing up to the party in my original clothes is going to take a while to
evaporate from my system; it would have been a complete disaster, total
life-altering humiliation. So much so, that I would have probably walked in and
everyone would have pointed and whispered at first glance, and I would have
turned right back around, swearing to myself to never, ever come home again.

Yeah, it would have been that bad.

And I’m going to say it again. Thank you,
Xander. If it were not for you, that’s what would happen.

You saved me from pain and suffering,
surprisingly.

I am a lady right now, someone who would
have no problem fitting in, maybe even get a compliment or two, maybe even
gawked at in pure jealously.

One could only hope; I don’t know what
being envied feels like.

So here’s hoping today is the day for
that
first. I grab the handle of the door, and as I turn to say goodbye to Daniels,
from the corner of my eye, I notice something that causes my body to instantly
freeze.

Ben!
I instantly let go of the door handle and lower
my body below the window.

“The windows are tinted, Miss Gellys,”
Daniels tells me with a hint of amusement.

Thank God for tinted windows!
I blow out a sigh of relief as I spy the
family of five trek up the stairs. The women, his mom and little sister’s
dresses, are flowing beautifully against the evening wind. The men, his dad and
little brother, all decked out in black and navy suits. Ben, however…I can’t
really see what he is wearing; he is too far up the stairs.

So they showed up! Or rather, Mother had
the nerve to invite the cheater and his family, but that shouldn’t surprise me,
because A: Mom is a traitor who cares more about her bitchy best friend than
her daughter, and B: it was all my fault anyway, so why should everyone have to
suffer when I’m to blame. I should have been the one to apologize and get this
stupid ordeal out of the way so everyone can go on and live their lives.

Calm down!
I let go of my steel grip on the car’s door
handle, forgetting how it got there in the first place. I must have gone
somewhere dark; I still feel it, my blood feels as if it is moving in waves,
rivaling the rivers of Colorado.

Yeah, I’m that angry right now.

“Is everything alright, Miss Gellys?”
Daniels asks, sounding concerned.

I let go of the door handle and face him
slowly. “I’m fine, well, as fine as I can be. But if you don’t mind, Daniels, I
think I’m just going to wait for everyone to enter the building first, and then
I’m going to go inside. Is that okay?” I ask him, and then take a long breath.

I need to exhale this bad shit out;
there’s no way I’m going to be able to survive this night with anger of this
magnitude running in my veins. I’ll be sure to snap prematurely, and then it’ll
be the same old, same old.

“Not a problem, Miss Gellys. Would you
like me to move the car further down? It’s a little weird to stand idle right
in front of the entrance, don’t you think?” Daniels asks.

I nod in agreement. “Yeah, staying here
isn’t a good idea,”

Daniels moves the car further down the
path, out of the suspicious eyes of the passersby; I can still see who is
coming, though.

Mom’s invited everyone.

They invited me, so why wouldn’t they invite
everyone else, too?

If I hadn’t have left home when I did, I
would have probably been taken to a mental ward for examination, my psyche
would have been fucked for sure by now.

But would I have been a psycho that would
have forgiven and forgotten in regards to Ben?

My mind wanders back all those months ago,
to the last time I spoke and saw Ben.

The night we broke up.

I remember that night like it just
happened. I’ve only thought about it every single night since it happened.

‘Why’ by Annie Lenox began playing on the
radio on the drive to meet Ben for the first time since catching him in the act
during Kyle’s party, an act that he had denied repeatedly as life changing via
text ever since.

I disagree whole-heartedly, and have
avoided seeing him, only allowing him the pleasure of speaking to me via text
or email.

Nothing face-to-face, not until now, at
least.

I do not need this right now.
But I continue to remember. I feel sick
as the song’s lyrics commands control over my brain, forcing me to go back to
all the times Ben and I’d had together.

It’s made me turn soft. I need to feel
anything but soft right now. I need to be tough if I am going to stand my
ground against him; saying that, he has no problem casting the blame and
responsibility over this way.

Me.

I’m to blame. Apparently.

What the hell did I do? I didn’t make him
kiss that little redheaded skank. He did that all on his own.

I am about to enter a war ground, and if
the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach doesn’t let go, I am about to sink,
and fast.

I’d pulled into the parking lot of one of
the local parks in the neighborhood where both our houses were. I could see him
sitting on a picnic bench as I parked my beloved red 2002 Ford Focus.

He’d looked so good in his Carleton
University sweatshirt and basketball shorts. His muscular legs looked glorious
under the moonlight. As I had walked over, he’d flipped his hood off and turned
to face me.

Scowling.

“I can’t believe you actually decided to
show up,” he said. The tone of his voice made my blood run cold. Who did he
think he was, and why did he think he could speak to me with attitude when he
was the one who did me wrong?

“I said I’d come, even though you don’t
deserve to even speak with me. You should be thanking me. I’ve been more than
generous giving you time you don’t even deserve!” I replied in a similar tone
to his.

How do you like me now? I thought to
myself.

His eyes bulged. Looking back, I’m sure it
was at the audacity of my tone. I didn’t normally speak to him like that;
usually, I’d have conceded until then. So right about then, he was in double
shock mode. He jumped off the picnic bench and marched to halt right in front
of me, towering over me with his six-foot-one frame.

“What the hell are you talking about?
You’ve been ignoring me for weeks!” he’d shouted back angrily.

Well, at least he’d been effected; I’d
made him angry, clearly. But that didn’t mean I was going to let him speak to
me like that. I was not the pushover he or Mom still thought I was; it was time
to stand up for myself, to show him and anyone else that Marisa was someone
they needed to, and would, answer to if crossed wrongly.

I could play, too. If anything, I was just
as angry as he was, if not more.

“Why the hell would I want to speak with
you, let alone hear your sad excuse? You were plastering your lips against that
midget’s diseased lips!” I’d yelled back, tilting my head to face him. His eyes
widened in disbelief, obviously flabbergasted, yet still silent. I was on a
role. It was time to steam over, make my point firmly.

“Did you go see a doctor – No? Well, you
should. In fact, I think I spot a few red spots around your lips. Might be
infectious,” I’d informed him snidely, digging it in the best I could.

“Shut it, Marisa! Enough of your smartass.
You’re not funny, and that’s not funny at all!” he snapped back; he jerked his
jaw from left to right.

Mission accomplished.

“Yeah – okay – you’re not fooling anyone!”
I snapped back, slightly quieter. I knew my face was red, even though I was
trying to play it cool, like I didn’t care. I fucking did, though – so much so,
I’d felt a burst of tears awaiting. One wrong word and I was done for.

“I’m not fooling you! Marisa, take a good
look at yourself, take a good, long fucking look at yourself!” He’d given me
the old up-and-down before going on with his angered rant. “You’re fucking
lazy. You’re going nowhere in life!” he hissed back.

Well that was spiteful, bringing in the
fact that I was at a crossroads with what I wanted to do with my life.

Low-blow.

If I’d thought my blood ran cold before,
it felt icy now. The way he’d looked at me, the sound of his voice, the look in
his eyes. It was as if he didn’t see me as anything of worth, as if I wasn’t
even good enough for mediocrity status.

“Then if I’m so shitty, why the hell are
you with me? Isn’t that why you cheated?” I’d snapped whilst emphasizing
‘cheated’.

Ben took a step back and visibly took a
deep breath. “For the millionth time, I didn’t cheat!” he’d retorted,
exasperated.

My jaw dropped. “You were making out with
that fucking slut right in front of me!” I yelled back in disbelief.

“I didn’t cheat!”

“What do you call making out with someone
who isn’t your girlfriend?” I’d yelled in one breath, bewildered.

“I was drunk out of my mind!”

“Oh – so that’s the excuse you’re going to
keep rolling with, you were drunk?!”

“Yes, it’s the fucking truth! I drank like
crazy that night; I was all alone at a party for the thousandth time while you
were working at Dairy Queen!”

“So, it’s my fault now?!”

“Took you long enough!”

“I can’t believe you!”

“Well, I can’t believe you! You’re always
late for everything, and expect everyone to always wait for you. The worst part
is your fucking twenty-two and you still work at Dairy Queen. You’re not even
embarrassed, even though all our friends are getting real jobs and moving out!”