Off Limits

POV: Chloe

Ding ding.

Some days, I worry I’ll scream and jump out a window if I hear it one more time.

Other days, I try to guess who came through the door before I look up from my sketchbook.

Mrs. Wallace demanding a fresh pot of coffee.

Mr. Harper looking for his daily cigar and newspaper.

Every day, I wished I was somewhere else.

Ding ding.

It didn’t have to be far. I never fantasized about lounging on a beach or attending a music festival with 50,000 of my closest friends like most 20-year-olds. No, my fantasies were much closer to home and yet well out of my reach.

New York City’s fashion industry is one of the biggest in the world with over 900 companies and 75 shows every year. It’s home to some of the most famous names and the best schools for fashion enthusiasts, but none of that matters to me.

At least I pretend it doesn’t.

Because even though Marc Jacobs and Alexander Wang started their incredible careers right here, they probably didn’t have working class parents who constantly guilted them into abandoning their dreams for something more “secure.” Or maybe they did and they just went for it anyway. In that case they’d have two things I didn’t: a career in fashion and guts.

Ding ding.

I didn’t look up from my sketchbook where I was working on the shading for an evening gown idea I had. Suddenly a hand slams down on my paper and pushes it towards me.

“You better put that shit away before Dad sees.”

I gasp and shove my older brother’s hand away, smearing the drawing even more.

“Ethan!” I yell as I inspect the damage to the charcoal strokes on my sketchbook.

“Seriously, put it away, I don’t want another ‘family discussion’ to interrupt my sleep,” he says.

I glare at him as he grabs two bottles of water from the case next to the counter. He hands one to his friend Liam who I just now notice came in the convenience store with him. Liam, like my brother, is sweaty from the basketball game they just played, his skin still glistening. He lifts his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his brow and I avert my eyes hoping he doesn’t see my reddened cheeks. I try to look anywhere but his hard, muscled stomach and V leading down to…

“Dad told you to stop taking the water bottles, there’s fresh water upstairs,” I rebuke, thankful to have something to fire back with. My brother and I have a pretty normal relationship (at least, I think it’s normal) in that we constantly bicker but also try to look out for one another. Unfortunately when he’s with Liam, he tends to be meaner, colder, and even more frustrating.

Ethan and Liam have been joined at the hip since middle school and since then, Liam has all but bullied me. When I was in high school, I started to fight back against his antics which just deepened our general dislike of each other. Now, I simply do my best to avoid him but some days, that’s harder than others.

“Stop being such a goody goody Chloe,” Ethan says before turning to Liam. “I’m going to go change really quick then I’ll be back down.”

Before I can remind him that Dad watches all the security cameras and will find out that Ethan took the water, he jogs up the stairs to our apartment.

I feel Liam’s eyes on me as I turn back to my sketchbook.

“What?” I finally ask without looking up.

“Why are you drawing a prom dress?” He asks accusingly.

I sigh.

“It’s an evening gown, not a prom dress. And because I feel like it,” I say, using as few words as possible and hoping he’ll get bored and leave me alone.

I hear his footsteps approach me. His scent invades my senses and I truly hate how good he smells.

“That’s a little revealing don’t you think?”

Finally, I look up into Liam’s hunter green eyes. He is sneering down at me, one hand on his hip, the other balancing a basketball between his forearm and waist.

“You’re kidding right? Have you seen some of the women you date?” I ask. “Speaking of, isn’t there some poor, unsuspecting girl for you to needlessly chase?”

“Not at the moment, why? Jealous?”

I scoff.

“Jealousy would require feelings that I most certainly don’t have.” I say turning back to my drawing. I hate when he says things like that to me, and I especially hate how my cheeks warm up when he does. “Besides, I have a boyfriend who both cares about and respects me.”

“Oh the choir boy? He hasn’t bored you to death yet?”

“He’s not a choir boy and no, I’m not bored with him,” I say. “Some people like stability.”

Liam laughs, it’s deep and slightly sinister. I hate it.

He leans down and I feel his breath glide down my shoulder and upper back.

“Don’t you know? Bored people move on eventually, whether it’s you or him. And when he does, don’t come crying to me,” he says in a low, dangerous tone.

“Why would I come to you for anything?” I look up at Liam, glaring directly into his face.

Liam pauses, his jaw clenches and his eyes roam my face. Finally, he moves towards the door.

“Tell Ethan I’m in the alley,” he says over his shoulder.

“Time for a smoke break already?” I ask with extra snark in my voice knowing all too well that Liam and my brother smoke weed in the alley on a regular basis.

“Gotta keep an eye out for those poor, unsuspecting girls, enjoy your…doodling,” he says and I can hear the grin on his face.

God, I hate him.

For a few blissful minutes, I’m left alone with no customers or annoying brothers and their rude friends to distract me.

Ding ding.

Liam suddenly holds the door open for my dad who walks in with his arms full of paper coffee cups, air filters for the HVAC system, and various other items. I quickly cover my sketchbook with the syllabus from my college economics class and then grab the cups from Dad.

“Thank you Chlo” he says as he starts unwrapping a filter. “Catch the game last night Liam?”

“The Knicks and the Celtics? Sure did. Exciting ending.”

“Indeed, too bad the Knicks couldn’t pull it off,” he says. “Hey, would you mind holding the ladder for me? I need to get this changed out,” he asks, holding up a filter.

“I can do it Dad,” I say just as a customer enters.

“That’s okay, you stay at the counter,” he says eyeing the young man who walks into the store and grabs a bag of potato chips.

“I got it,” Liam says as he snatches the ladder out of my hands and unfolds it. I roll my eyes at him and take my spot at the register.

“Pack of Marlboro Lights please,” the customer is young, maybe mid twenties at the most. His long, sandy blonde hair is tucked underneath a beanie and he has a wide smile on his face. I ring up his cigarettes and the rest of his items.

“$24.86,” I say.

“Here you go sweetheart,” he says as he hands me a twenty and a five dollar bill. I take the bills and grab his coins, placing them in his open hand which he closes a little too quickly, allowing his fingers to graze my skin.

“Have a good day,” I say with a polite smile.

“You too uh…” he gestures for me to fill in the space with my name.

“Christina,” Liam says with authority. “Can you come give us a hand?”

Dad’s halfway up in the ceiling while Liam holds the ladder he’s standing on.

“Sure,” I say before turning back to the customer. “I better go, see ya.”

“Thanks Christina,” he says with a smile and a wave.

After he leaves, I go stand next to Liam who is practically burning a hole in the back of the customer’s head with his glare. I grab on to the ladder and suddenly he shifts his angry gaze on me.

“Jesus Christ Chloe,” he says. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“You didn’t even let me respond. How do you know I was going to tell him my name?”

“Because you are far too naive,” he says as he turns his angry gaze towards the door.

I roll my eyes.

“I’m a grown adult, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself,” I hiss back, not wanting my overprotective dad to hear and immediately take Liam’s side.

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

“You are way too nice, you think you’re being polite but guys like that will take that to mean you are into them,” he says as his eyes settle on me again.

“Even if that’s true, it’s none of your business,” I say.

Liam goes to say something back but my dad interjects.

“What’s none of his business?”

Dad comes ambling down the ladder with an old, dirty air filter in his hands.

“Nothing Dad, get it switched out okay?” I ask, changing the subject quickly.

“Yeah, looks like it needed it too,” he says holding up the old one. After he tosses it in the large garbage can behind the counter, he turns to Liam. “Hey, would you mind taking a look at our garbage disposal next time you are around? It stopped working last week and I can’t figure it out.”

“Sure thing, I’ll come by later this week,” Liam says in his best boy scout voice. Barf.

I roll my eyes and notice Liam glaring at me.

“Chloe, why don’t you get back to studying, I’ll take over at the register,” my dad says.

“Oh that’s okay Dad, I got plenty done in inbetween customers,” I say.

He lifts a bushy eyebrow from behind his large, round glasses.

“You could always use more study time Chloe,” he says. “Straight A’s don’t earn themselves.”

I sigh.

“Dad, when have I ever gotten anything besides As? Trust me, I know my own workload,” I say, sitting on the stool behind the counter.

Ethan finally comes down the stairs and pats Dad on the shoulder on his way to the door.

“Hi Dad, bye Dad,” he says.

“You’re not staying for dinner?” Dad asks.

“I gotta work, I already told Mom, I’ll be home later,” he says.

“Alright, be safe okay?”

“Yeah Dad,” he says. Liam holds the door open for them to leave. I notice he’s still looking at me but now he has a sneer on his face.

“See ya, oh and Chloe, love your evening gown drawing!”

I look in horror at my dad who looks at me, wild eyed.

“Chloe! Again with the fashion?! I thought we talked about this!”

I glare at Liam who is snickering while he closes the door.

Fuck you, Liam.