Heartless Player by R.C. Stephens

Nine

Rebel

Blossom walks back and forth in the kitchen looking for her keys and her cell.

“Here.” I pass them to her.

She’s already dressed in the uniform she wears to the diner, which is a royal blue t-shirt and a matching cap that say Buck’s Diner and a pair of blue jeans.

“Thanks,” she huffs, annoyed. She slept in and now she risks being late for her shift.

“I can’t believe Buck is making you work on Thanksgiving.” I shake my head.

“I can’t believe it either,” she says, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“When will you consider using the insurance money to go back to school?” I ask for the umpteenth time.

“That money is yours,” she says. “Besides, we’re getting by.”

“And I want you to use some of it. It’s more than enough and you know it,” I argue.

“You got hurt, not me. I’m not taking your money,” she says stubbornly as she peels a banana and takes a few bites.

Preston walks into the kitchen wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of jogging pants. He better not intend on spending the day in this house without my sister here. Our conversation about money comes to an end because I don’t need him knowing our personal stuff.

“Mornin’,” he says and then walks over to Blossom and gives her a kiss on the lips.

I cringe.

“I sure could use a cup of coffee,” he says to Blossom.

So get it yourself. Asshole.

“I gotta run. I’m already late for work,” Blossom grumbles, heading to the door and slipping her jacket on.

“Seriously?” I eye my sister. She needs to tell him to leave.

“What?” she asks, not understanding my body language. “I hate to leave you,” she says to me. “You can go to the Donovans’ for dinner.”

“And what about you? You always come with me.”

“I need to work. Buck is paying me time and a half today and I don’t want to get fired if I don’t,” she says.

“He can’t do that,” I argue.

“But he can,” she says, shaking her head. “Welcome to the real world, Rebel.”

“I gotta leave. I’m sorry. I wanted to make a pie to take to the Donovans’ but I didn’t have time. Give them my regrets. Love you,” she says, then she looks at Preston. “You’re going to your sister’s, right?”

He looks confused for the briefest of seconds, then clears his throat and says, “Yeah,” with the fakest smile I’ve ever seen.

“Happy Thanksgiving, you guys. I’ll see you two later,” Blossom says, and she rushes out the door. A gust of cold wind flows into the kitchen as she leaves, but it isn’t the only thing giving me shivers.

I turn around and head to my room.

“Uh, Rebel?” Preston calls out. “You don’t mind me staying here to hang out today, do you?”

Dammit.

This man gets me so on edge that my insides are shaking. “I have work to do and a pie to make,” I say. I want to tell him to leave, but a part of me is scared of his reaction. I still don’t know if he gets violent. Maybe he does or maybe he doesn’t. I don’t care to find out.

“Cool,” he says.

“Just don’t be snorting anything in this house,” I add, because I can’t help myself.

“That was a mistake. It won’t happen again,” he says.

Sure. Of course I believe you.

Just like Momma believed Daddy every time he said he was sorry. Until she didn’t believe him anymore and took off.

I head back to my room. End of semester is coming up in a couple of weeks and I need to prepare for exams, but when I get to my desk and open my laptop, I can’t focus knowing that man is in this house. Knowing that my sister is making the mistake of her life by being with him.

On a whim, I pack up my stuff and change out of my sweatpants and sweatshirt. I put on a gray sweater and a pair of jeans and then I take my stuff and head downstairs, hoping Preston is hanging out in Blossom’s room so I don’t have to see him.

Just my luck, he’s sitting at the kitchen table shoveling eggs and toast in his mouth.

“I’m heading out,” I say as I slip on my Doc Martens.

“Take it easy,” he says.

Frustration fills my veins along with anger that he’s in my house and I don’t feel comfortable here.

I head down St. Claire Avenue thinking that I saw a sign saying that the Coffee Bean would be open on Thanksgiving.

The streets are quiet. Most students leave the Westfall area Thanksgiving weekend because they all head home to their families. The sky is gray and gloomy, but I’m glad the wind isn’t strong.

I trudge slowly along the side of the road when I see a familiar Mustang driving in the opposite direction. I assumed he would be gone this weekend.

Of course Wolfe stops the car. He rolls down his window. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I answer. This feels so awkward. Why would he stop me in the middle of the street? Because that seems to be his thing. “Happy Thanksgiving,” I say, trying to sound cheerful, even though I am anything but.

“Yeah, you too,” he says drily.

I think he’s going to continue on his way when he says, “Do you need a ride?”

“You have to stop feeling compelled to offer me rides,” I say to him.

“It’s not on purpose,” he replies. “Dec and Cole left for the weekend. I stayed behind and the house was quiet. Too quiet, actually, which is weird because they’re usually so loud it bugs the shit out of me. Anyway, I got bored so I decided to take a drive. I saw you walking and I know you. Hell, we’re practically neighbors, so I stopped to say hi and offering a ride was the polite thing to do,” he explains.

“And you care about being polite?” I ask.

“Ouch,” he says.

“I mean, you’ve always been polite to me, but word on the street is that you are anything but,” I retort.

“I’m polite in certain situations,” he says and then looks straight ahead. “I thought we established this already.”

“We did,” I say. “I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around it.”

“Well, do you want to get in?”

He’s bored. I’m homeless for now. “Okay.” I walk around and open the passenger door.

“Where are you headed?”

“I was going to the Coffee Bean. I saw a sign at school saying it was open,” I say.

“Oh. Are you going to meet up with that guy?” he asks, and his jaw twitches.

“Which guy?” I ask. I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“That dude that works there. The guy from the gym,” he says.

“Antonio?” I ask, surprised.

“That may be his name,” Wolfe answers, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“He went home to his family. He’s from Ohio,” I say. “I thought I’d be able to get some work done there. My sister was called in to work today and Preston is apparently spending the day in my house. I didn’t feel comfortable with him there,” I admit.

“Shit. You need to talk to your sister.”

“I planned to this morning, but she ran out the door.” I shrug. “She won’t be around for dinner either. And, I don’t know, I kind of lost the feeling to celebrate. I just want this day to be over.”

“That’s exactly how I feel,” he says as he pulls into campus.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Nah, I was home a few days ago. I went to visit my sister. I just don’t do family things. I usually spend Thanksgiving with Cole and his father, but I wasn’t in the mood this year.”

We get to the front of the Danby Building and I reach for the door handle.

“Why don’t you come back to my place? You can get work done there and maybe we can hang out or something,” he suggests.

My stomach flips and then flops. Did I hear him right? “You want me to come over?” I ask weirdly.

“There isn’t anyone home to bother us. We can just hang out,” he says.

“As friends,” I add.

“Yeah.” He shrugs like it’s obvious.

I take a moment to consider what’s happening. Wolfe Judd wants to hang out with me on Thanksgiving, “Sure, okay.” I close my door and he drives off.

Butterflies swarm in my stomach at the thought of going to his place. I know his friends like to have lots of parties, but it was never my scene, and I wouldn’t be invited anyway. He pulls into the driveway and we both exit the car and I follow him up the steps.

He opens the door and I’m surprised to see that the house is pretty neat for a bachelor pad. The front entrance is basically a big family room space with a large, worn-in gray sectional couch and a couple of side tables. The television is huge and looks like it must be the latest model, and strewn over the floor are controllers for a gaming console.

“Watch your step. Dec and Cole are obsessed with playing Xbox and PS5,” he says.

“You have a nice place,” I say.

Wolfe removes his varsity jacket and then he asks me for mine. I pass it to him. “Thank you,” I say, placing my backpack back on my shoulder. Did he really mean it when he said I could get work done here?

“So, if you want to do some homework you can basically sit anywhere. The couch or kitchen table,” he offers.

“Either is fine,” I say stiffly.

“Relax, Rebel, I don’t bite.” He chuckles.

“I didn’t think you did, despite your reputation.” I smirk.

“Ah, yes, my reputation…” He palms his chest. “I assure you that your virtue is safe with me.” His blue eyes glimmer mischievously and warmth floods my body.

“Good to know,” I say. And I remember you only see me as a friend.

“We can both work at the kitchen table if you want. I’ve been getting a lot of training in these last few weeks, so I’ve had less time to get my schoolwork done,” he mentions.

“How is the training going?” I ask.

“Pretty good, actually. I’ve been cleared to attend practices. I’m sure Coach won’t let me play just yet, but I’m excited to get back on the ice after the weekend.”

“I’m happy for you.” I give him what I hope looks like a genuine smile and not some awkward grimace.

We head into the kitchen and I take a seat at the table. I set up my laptop.

“I’ll just go grab my things,” Wolfe says, and he slips away through a swinging door. This house is in better shape than mine, or maybe it’s just been updated.

There are dark wood cabinets with sleek stainless-steel handles. The fridge and stove are also stainless steel, and the tile looks plain but clean.

I open up my notes on biomechanics.

Wolfe walks back into the kitchen with his laptop and places it across from me. Am I supposed to get any work done like this? He smells so good and he’s too damn hot.