Bedroom Bully by Harper West

19

Rebecca

My parents sawme off on the plane, but Maggie didn’t come. I didn’t blame her, of course. Not with everything she was fighting with on a daily basis. But, I made sure to hug her tightly before I left the house so I could reiterate my offer to her in case she wanted to take me up on it. It killed me to see her suffering like that. It killed me to think that all this time she’d only been surviving instead of trying to find a way to thrive. And while I still didn’t understand what triggered that kind of mindset, I knew there was a lot about my sister I had yet to discover.

It did make me curious as to what kind of juvie record she had, though.

I racked my brain during the entire flight home. I tried to remember a time where the police showed up to the house, or maybe something had been discussed, or some rumor floated around school about someone getting arrested. But I recalled nothing. Part of me wanted to ask JoJo about it, but the rest of me knew that was a bad idea.

That didn’t stop me from trying to figure it out, though.

I googled everything under the sun to figure out what the hell she had done. If the documents were unsealed, then surely they were now public record for anyone to peruse through. However, I found nothing. Phone calls I made to local courthouses back home during my free day on Monday yielded little to no results whatsoever. Sure, they had record of Maggie in their system, but they couldn’t release any sensitive information regarding what had happened without her signature as well as parental consent.

Yeah, parental consent even though Maggie was a fully-grown adult.

“None of this makes any sense,” I whispered to myself.

I tried to put it out of my mind with food, and catching up with Brit, and even binge-watching my favorite trashy television shows. But the only thing that distracted my mind at all was a conversation I struck with Michael via text. To this day, I’m still not sure why I did it. Some days, I blamed it on loneliness. Other days, I blamed it on JoJo. However, the only thing I kept thinking about while me and Michael were talking was how I needed to get out from underneath JoJo.

He wasn’t healthy for me, nor was he healthy for my career.

Michael: Can I ask you a personal question?

Me: Of course, you can ask anytime.

Michael: Have you ever thought about whether or not you’d want to get married?

The question gave me pause and my knee-jerk answer was “no.” Not that I didn’t want to settle down with someone. But the idea of doing just that made me queasy. Marriage was for life, that was the rule that my parents drilled into my head. Once someone got married, that was it. From then on, marriage was a conscious decision both parties had to make on a daily basis. My father was adamant about teaching us that it took more than love and good sex for relationships to work. Some days, it took saying that decision out loud when the only thing someone wanted to do was walk away. That kind of dedication scared me. I didn’t trust myself with that type of monumental decision.

But then, a thought occurred to me.

I knew that JoJo was toxic for me. He was bad for me, and my career, and I had to get away from him somehow. I had to get him to back off. So, maybe striking up a serious relationship with someone was what I needed to do. Maybe I had to show him that what we had between us was nothing but a spark, a flame, and then an extinguisher. Maybe what we had was only temporary; him trying to fulfill some sort of high school crush he thought he missed out on.

So many things made sense when I looked through the lens of a jealous, possessive high school boy.

And that’s why I responded the way I did.

Me: Don’t get me wrong, I do. But marriage is such a big thing, and I’d only ever do it once. I’m not someone who could get remarried again, so I’m incredibly picky about who I see a future with, if that makes any sense.

Michael: It makes complete and total sense, and it’s honestly a refreshing answer. So many people rush into relationships and base them on sex or whatever, and they don’t ever get to the good stuff. The fights where you have to choose to stay. The arguments that would force anyone else out the door, but not those two. Not that couple, if that makes sense.

His answer made me smile, which was more than I could say for JoJo’s snarky responses most days. And that made me dig my heels in.

If this was what it took to get away from JoJo so I could show him how toxic we were for one another, then so be it.

Me: I’m going to be honest with you because that’s what you deserve, okay?

Michael: I’d appreciate that, of course. What’s on your mind?

I drew in a deep breath before I responded.

Me: I want a boring life. I want my job, I want a nice little home, and I want someone to come home to. I want to find a man who doesn’t see himself as more valuable than me, or that his job is somehow more important than mine. I want to feel equal, but…

I swallowed hard before I allowed my fingers to take on a mind of their own.

Michael: But, what? I promise, you’re safe here.

Me: But, now that I’m creating this life for myself away from my own family and my childhood home, I’m figuring out things about myself that don’t quite line up with how I look, if that makes any sense.

Michael: Give me an example.

Me: For example, my sex life. The more I explore and entertain specific notions, the more I realize that I’m not as… plain… as other people.

Those three little dots bounced and then stopped. Bounced, then stopped. Bounced, then stopped. And for the smallest of moments, I thought I had royally fucked up. My plan to push JoJo and his bullshit out of my life for good was already crashing to the ground, as far as I was concerned.

Until I read his response.

Michael: So, you’re a lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets. What’s there to be ashamed of?

Relief washed over my body as I sank into the cushions of my couch.

Me: So, that doesn’t freak you out or anything?

Michael: LOL! Hell, no. Excuse my language, but any man would be lucky to have a beautiful, strong, intelligent woman who’s also a nasty-ass ho in bed.

I threw my head back with laughter and enjoyed the relief coursing through my veins. Even though I didn’t feel as strongly for Michael as I did for JoJo, I also knew that shit with JoJo was based on sex. He was the one that had stoked this fire within me, but that didn’t mean he owned me. That didn’t mean we had some sort of special bond that needed to be explored. It just meant he opened my eyes to something I didn’t understand about myself.

But, the relief rushing through my veins while Michael and I talked?

That was the stuff of marriage legends.

Me: Well, now that we’ve got that awkward conversation out of the way, would you be up for trying another date? This time, outside of my office?

Michael: Your boss isn’t gonna try to kill me again, is he?

Me: Honestly? I’d quit and go find another company before I let my boss stick his nose in my business. He and I go way back. He dated my sister in high school, and I think he just sort of sees himself as my personal bodyguard. You know, country girl in the big city who’s gotta be protected. That sort of thing.

Michael: Country, huh? I don’t detect an accent.

Me: I’ve worked hard to get rid of it. In my profession, I have to hold myself with poise and present myself in a particular way. A southern accent automatically comes with the stereotype of being a close-minded idiot, and I can’t have that kind of thing hurting my prospects.

Michael: Again, excuse my language, but that’s shitty as hell. I’m sorry you have to go through that.

Me: LOL! You don’t have to apologize for your language. I’ve got a potty-mouth when I’m with the girls.

The conversation continued well into the late hours of the evening, and the only reason why I had to “cut it short” was because I needed sleep for work the next day. The two of us made plans to go bowling Friday evening after I got off work, and I found myself looking forward to the adventure.

And shockingly enough, the week passed by pretty quickly.

JoJo hadn’t called me into his office for anything nor had any excess work dropped down onto my desk. For the first time since I had taken the job, I went pretty much an entire work week without overtime or harassment from my boss. I wondered if things were finally sinking in for him. Maybe he was finally beginning to realize just how bad we were for each other. So, I held my head high after leaving the office Friday evening, then soared home to get changed into another set of clothes for my bowling date.

Nothing fancy or anything, just a nice dress with some comfy shoes and my hair down my back. I rarely wore my hair down because of how fuzzy it got in all the humidity, but I decided to try something different. I slid on a bit of red lipstick and curled my hair. That way, once it started to get fuzzy it had ringlets to cling to so it wouldn’t get so damn out of control.

And when Michael laid eyes on me the second I walked into the bowling alley, his jaw hit the floor.

“Wow, and here I am standing in shorts and a t-shirt. Come here, beautiful.”

I giggled as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Oh, it’s so good to see you.”

He buried his face into my hair. “Good to see you, too.”

I pulled back and smiled. “Ready to get our shoes?”

His arm stayed around my waist as he led me over to the register. “I would’ve already gotten them, but I wasn’t sure of your size.”

I pointed to a set of shoes. “Seven and a half, please.”

Michael held me close to his side. “Twelve for me. And charge us for three games.”

“Ooooh, big spender, huh?”

He playfully winked at me. “Only the best for the best.”

I laid my head against his shoulder while the guy behind the counter fetched us our shoes. This was how a man needed to make me feel. Beautiful, and precious; not like some stupid piece of meat he could discard whenever he felt the need. Michael and I made our way down to one of the corner lanes so we could have a bit of privacy and not be surrounded by so many people. And while he placed an order for pizza, fries, and sodas, I geared us up for our first round of bowling.

Before the lights dimmed and the laser show started.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun. I haven’t been cosmic bowling in years!” I said as I clapped my hands.

Michael put on his bowling shoes. “I’ve never been, actually. So, this is a first for me.”

“You’re going to love it. The lights are distracting and mesmerizing, and it makes the game so much more fun.”

He slapped his hands onto his knees before he pushed himself up. “Looks like I’m up first. Ready to get your ass beat?”

I giggled. “Only if it leaves a mark.”

He barked with laughter before he chose his ball off the rack behind us, and I watched his stance. He was strong, and fluid. Flexible, but not spindly. He really was an attractive man, and I was so grateful that he was so understanding and laid back. I needed someone like that. I needed someone who wasn’t so damn uptight all the fucking time.

And after playing through our first round, an idea crossed my mind.

“Hey, Michael.”

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. “I hear a beauty hath summoned thee. What’s on your mind?”

I draped my arms around his neck and grinned. “Ever had a quickie in the bathroom?”

I expected him to laugh, or possibly playfully chastise me for being a bad girl. And even if that wasn’t his thing, I still expected him to be respectful of it. But instead, disgust dripped over his features before he wrinkled his nose.

“Ew, no. Why would you want to do that for our first time together?”

My stomach bottomed out at my toes. “I don’t know. It just… seemed like fun? I mean, we wouldn’t have to have full-on sex. Maybe just… I don’t know.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Just fool around while someone else is shitting beside us?”

I pulled away from him. “A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, Michael.”

I felt ashamed, and guilty. Dirty, almost, by his standards. It seemed fun at the time when I got the idea to ask in the first place because I sure as hell needed the release after the bullshit JoJo pulled over the weekend. But it was so unlike me, and the longer Michael went without speaking to me the guiltier I felt for even asking.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in an odd spot,” I said softly.

He shrugged. “Let’s just wrap up this game and I’ll get you home.”

So much for a regular life, I guess.