Sugar and Spice

The best part about keeping to myself is that no one knew the truth about who I was. No one could define me, at least not with facts. Sure, they could guess and assume and likely, make up ridiculous rumors. They didn’t actually know though. I loved that, because the more people knew about you, the more they could hurt you. It was satisfying knowing people watched me, trying to understand who I was and where I came from, but were left clueless. I loved it almost as much as I enjoyed wondering about them. Everyone loved a good mystery.

That’s what I liked about this bar. It was a mystery in it’s own way. It was located in our small town, no one asked questions and no one cared. It was hardly on anyone’s map. There weren’t any men waiting at the doors to check I.D.s and ask me my age. I was a shadow. I was there but no one bothered paying attention to that fact.

“What you want to drink tonight? Let me guess, sprite and vodka on ice?” The bartender asked, chuckling.

I rolled my eyes, not so much at him as at me. I had become a regular here and I always ordered the same damn things. Maybe there were little things about me that wasn’t so mysterious. I was like an onion. You were lucky if you could peel back any layers without crying yourself to a stop. You couldn’t get past my layers without me putting up a fight and I would likely be this way my entire life. I always thought it came down to a person’s natural instinct to avoid change. If we could help it, we stuck to what we knew. At least I knew I was an onion.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Give me one of those, please” I sighed. Alcohol was the only thing that made me happy. I was a pathetic person.

“Can I see your I.D. please?” He laughed. I knew he was just kidding. I had come to know the employees. This particular bartender was Malcom. If he was not working then Alicia was. Malcom never asked my age but I knew he could tell I was too young to legally drink, despite that my I.D. said I was twenty-one. I hardly looked eighteen, my actual age. I could probably pull off fifteen. I hated looking younger than I was. I could always get in line with the fads to look older and paint my face every day or bake myself in a tanning bed. I could get injections, lifts or Botox and turn my soft skin to leather. The I.D. seemed to be working just fine though, at least in this small town bar where no one gave a damn.

Malcom had sea green eyes and blonde hair that fell down to his chin. He waited too long between shaves and so it was rare that you would see him without stubble on his heart shaped face. He always wore a goofy smile. It was a smile that definitely represented his big personality. He barely stood over the bar, barely taller than I was. If I had to guess, assume, or make up a silly rumor about him, it would be that Malcom was the class clown of his school. His friends probably laughed the entire time they were around him and his heart was that of a child. He seemed like he was the one who made everyone else smile.

I never smiled.

“Sure thing, Malcom.” I replied sarcastically as he slid my drink across the bar.

“You know,” he said “I’m starting to see more and more of you around here. You got to be careful, drinking can get addicting.” He chuckled. I knew he was joking with me but I didn’t miss the serious glint in his eyes. He just said something without having to actually say it. I hated when people did that.

“Yeah, Yeah.” I mumbled, downing the drink. He was right. I was drinking more lately and I knew it.

“I’m serious!” He laughed “just ask this guy. What’s up Vandacamp?”

I turned my head towards the direction he was indicating, only to find myself in direct eye contact with the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Not much” he said sitting down beside me and breaking eye contact. “What about you Hiott?”

“Nothing new. Just been working, same old, same old.”

I didn’t hear the small exchanges they made next. I was too busy studying this man’s features. I wanted to run my fingers through his dirty blonde hair to test how soft it was as I watched his mesmerizing eyes move around Malcom’s face. His skin was tan and his crooked nose pointed up too much. The bottom of his ears were in even alignment with his full lips. The hair around his mouth and down his chin was curly. His toned body and the muscles that were defined through his shirt made my mouth water. How could someone so beautiful exist?

“Earth to Braelyn?”

I snapped my head up and immediately blushed. He noticed I was checking him out. A sly smile drifted across his face and I quickly averted my eyes to look at Malcom.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Are you done for the night?”

“Oh, what time is it?” I asked.

“11:28,” He laughed “I was just wondering if you were planning on staying here longer.” I didn’t miss the jealous tone in Malcom’s voice. I raised my eyebrows at him and shook my head.

I needed to be back at home before 4 a.m. That’s when my boyfriend was coming over, when his shift ended.

“I have a few hours” I laughed “I’ll have a dark rum, surprise me and just add coke, please.”

“Make that two” the guy beside me chuckled.

“No flirting with the customers, Chase.” Malcom rolled his eyes and began making our drinks.

“I’m not” he laughed, defending himself, while I turned the brightest red I possibly could, and then I felt guilty. I shouldn’t be blushing over a hot guy. I have a boyfriend. “I just find it interesting a girl is ordering a drink like this,” he continued, “but what do I know about women? I don’t understand a thing about them.”

“Me either” Malcom laughed, passing me my drink “especially this one.”

I frowned, downing it in a couple of chugs. What was there to understand?

“Let’s play a game!” Chase laughed, then turned to me. Was he buzzing? “I mean I don’t understand why they do what they do, but what’s the harm in guessing?” I narrowed my eyes at him. Guessing was my game.

“So,” he continued “you live in a big house with mom and dad still, right? You probably have a dog. The kind of dog that requires haircuts.” I bit my lip, biting back a retort as he laughed at me. So far, so wrong.

“You’re dating a sorority dude, maybe a football quarterback and you love the attention that comes with that. Girls who dress like you and sit at bars at such a late night on a weekend by themselves at that, are thrill seekers and they like attention. Probably depressed? You come here, to drink, and to appear to be someone you’re not. Honestly you hardly look sixteen.” He laughed even harder as I scowled.

“Come on Chase, don’t be so mean.” Malcom sighed, shaking his head.

It seemed like he was used to this. Was Malcom’s friend always a jerk? He was judging me? I wanted to laugh at him. No one can define you with facts, the little voice in the back of my head reminded me, they can only assume.

“I just met you” I mumbled, “and you just met me. You don’t know anything. But if you want to play this game, fine. It’s my turn. You are insecure and usually when a man is insecure he has been rejected one too many times or some of his organs are too small for his body. So what, you find people, try to point out their flaws and in return you feel better about yourself? Besides, you sound like a sorority boy yourself and I wouldn’t be caught dead hung up on someone like you” I spat back, before standing up and pushing in my chair.

He was cute, definitely but he was a jerk as well. I didn’t need another hot headed guy to deal with.

I gave one last disdaining look to Chase before I turned and walked out of the bar. Sitting in my car and turning the key, I gave a small shout of protest when it made a sputtering sound and cut off. Trying again, I failed miserably as the car wouldn’t start. I was beginning to debate going back into the bar and ordering about a thousand more drinks. I was barely buzzing off of what I did drink. I needed more, way more.

Removing myself from the vehicle, I kicked the tire in a small fit of rage. Today had officially been declared a crappy day. It was supposed to be the opposite of terrible. Given my luck, I wasn’t expecting a terrific day but at least a semi okay day, maybe? Nope, the universe had other plans. I graduated from high school today. My teacher said I was starting a summer with and endless amount of possibilities, one big hoo-rah before the real world came crashing down on me. My teacher was an idiot. I was completely aware of the real world, having been surrounded by it for a long time.

I didn’t walk or participate in the ceremony or anything. I didn’t have the expected and typical cookout celebrating this milestone in life. No one would come anyways and I didn’t exactly make any friends in school. I wouldn’t be attending anyone else’s celebration. I simply drove to the school, picked up my diploma, went home, got dressed, and then came to this stupid bar to drink myself into oblivion. Then I would go home and wait for my boyfriend’s shift at work to end. A semi okay day.

Instead I had started my summer out with a drink, and insult, and a broken car. Not how I imagined things to be but then again when did I ever imagine anything in life to be great?

I was living proof that life was no fairytale. Just ask my dad, he’d let you know exactly how worthless I was. I hadn’t seen him in months. He vanished one day, just like that. I was waiting for the day when he’d finally come back and I wouldn’t be there anymore. He’d see how it would feel. I shouldn’t be bothered with the fact that he was gone. When he did spend his days rotting in that house with me, he would drink himself mad and push me around. Why did it bother me that he was gone? At least he did something right in our miserable lives; he taught me to drink. After mom died, that’s all he wanted to do. With all this pain I felt, that’s all I wanted to do.

With my brain telling myself the obvious, that no one was home to call, I thought of my boyfriend. Surely if I disrupted him at work, he would not be happy with me. An unhappy Cain did not make for a better night.

I can still remember the first time he hit me. It was after he found out my dad had hit me. Not right after, a while after. I suppose he figured he could beat me and get away with it too, that I wouldn’t tell on him because I wouldn’t tell on my dad and he was right. It also didn’t help that I didn’t have anyone else and that this late in the game, I couldn’t make myself trust anyone else even if there was some unfortunate soul that wanted me to let them in. I knew that I was lucky to have him in my life. While everyone else ran from me, as far as possible, he was still here.

Before he hit me, we were arguing over where we wanted to go for dinner and it seems so childish now, but I wanted to go to the new restaurant that had just opened up downtown. He wanted to go to a damn club. Naturally, it led to us bickering at each other. All I remembered after that was his hand coming down on the side of my face. I cried about it for days.

He didn’t make any contact with me for a while after either. I was relieved when he finally did show back up. He wasn’t entirely like my dad. He came back and he let me know just how guilty he was. It was an accident. I just made him so mad. It happened before he had time to process it. He’s never done anything like that. He would never do anything like that again. He was sorry. So sorry. Would I forgive him?

I did. I’m an idiot. He came back.

I was in a corner, with no way out and that was no one’s fault but my own. Life was just a sharp knife, trying to peel back all of your layers until there was nothing left. I just wanted to be out of the line of fire. But, in a world of apples, I was a damn onion.

Throwing my hands up in defeat, I pulled out my cellphone to call him. I could imagine his eyes rolling as he answered the phone, the clipped tone, the hatred burning within him, the bruises I would wake up with. I had gone almost two weeks without doing anything to upset him. Just as I was about to click the green button that would seal my fate and really add more to this horrible day, Chase strutted out of the bar. Strutted. People who knew they were hot were extremely irritating. Congratulations, God loves you more. You were born with perfect genes. Life must be so easy and the rest of us suffer. Damn apples and damn Chase.

When he spotted me slumped against my own vehicle, probably looking pissed and exhausted, he walked over. “Trouble?” He smirked.

“No, I just love waiting outside of the bar, at night, as a young woman. You wouldn’t understand. It’s a girl thing, a spoiled rich girl thing. For all you know, this could be some weird sorority initiation thing I got going on. Oh you know what? I bet my boyfriend dismantled my car’s engine so it would break down at this exact moment, as a prank. That sounds frat boyish, right? It’s ok though, I have my dog in the backseat. Then again, she does require haircuts so she is prissy. I probably couldn’t get her under the engine, right? Dogs like that just like getting pampered all day by their stereotypical owners.” I snapped, not intending to sound irritated. The stress was a struggle.

He smiled at my response, shaking his head in agreement before he shrugged his shoulders at me. “Come on” he laughed “I’ll give you a ride home.”

I rolled my eyes and with one last glance at my car, and without much thought, followed him. His simple offer, without me realizing, was the beginning of a drastic change in my life.