Rich Man

“That was cheap shit,” Patrice stated coolly from my bed, watching random images flicker back and forth on the TV screen. He grew noticeably frustrated and turned the thing off. A cold glare sent shockwaves down my spine as soon as I made eye contact with him from my door way. His eyes were fixed on mine, the level of intensity against his narrowing brow so strong I could have collapsed. Of course, I could have, had it not been for the smug smirk visually interpreting my thoughts to this boy.

I eyed him cautiously now, my offensive nature being played as the strongest card I held. And he watched me too, with the most chilling glare I dare say that I had ever seen. Even still, I was able to move to my side of the bed all the while sustaining grace in my movements.

Patrice didn’t seem to notice. His eyes read to me with only one single intent: To tear me apart. And he was determined, too. “I can’t believe you. After everything I said, you lead him on and did that. Be a woman and take me on. Don’t use him.”

“Are you finished?” His jaw nearly dropped, eyes twisting with anger while I situated myself sitting beside him in bed like an Indian over the covers. He sat up a tad straighter now. We faced each other. “We took a nap, Patrice. Well, he did. Anyway, we had a little chit-chat. Nothing happened. He knows that and I know that. The end. Period. Honey, if I really wanted to spite you, you’d be crying right about now.”

Patrice snorted. “Right. I know you’re good at this mindfuck bullshit, but cut it. You’re not as obnoxiously strong and solid as you make yourself out to be.”

I then smiled wider, questions I had asked from the start being answered now. Interesting… “But on the contrary, Bergeron. I’m damn near solid as the Panama Canal and even if I wasn’t, do you honestly think I’d ever tell you? From the moment you realized that I was a threat to you intellectually, you’ve been out to get me, to find my weakness, so to speak. Well you can’t have what doesn’t exist.”

Fist clenched, he hopped off the bed and stared me down once more. And as he left my room the only thing I could clearly hear him mutter was, “I wouldn’t count on that.”

-

When the following morning arrived, I was faced with some possibly pleasant news. In some aspects, the mini road-trip the boys were going on would be good for my relationship with the girls. On the lesser side of things, I would be without the bearers of crucial XY chromosomes.

Obviously, that wasn’t going to be a good thing for now.

But hey, I did badly need to work on my relationship with Lex and Avery, even if Lex was in on the whole thing. There were still multiple questions I needed answers to about that Kelsey girl and Tera, the girl Blake was secretly seeing. And then, of course, came my own suspicions that I needed clarification on. After all, I couldn’t rely on anyone to give me all of my answers even if they did seem obvious at times.

The day started with a simple shopping trip. Lex originally had something she needed to return to a department store, which budded into spending three whole hours in that same store looking for bargain deals on some really cool clothes. That, of course, set all three of us up for a shopping-binge, which was thankfully spent at the nearest mall. By the time we got to Avery’s house, where we would all be staying for the next couple of days in the boys’ absences, we couldn’t see through all of our Christmas shopping bags.

I felt like a teenager again, blasting music in Avery’s room and trying on clothes. Lex had been in the bathroom curling her hair while Avery and I were just sitting around, chatting. “So… You and Bergy were noticeably uh… disdainful of each other. Anything happen the other night?”

I chuckled. “He’s just sore over how well I can read him, is all. He sees me as competition and therefore loathes me by default.”

“So something did happen,” she remarked, leaning forward on her bed and down toward me, on the floor.

Shrugging, I replied, “Sort of. I mean, I wanted to talk with Milan so I grabbed him and told him to nap with me. Bergeron thought I was trying to use Milan to spite him or make him jealous or something. It was all rather stupid.”

Avery’s brow narrowed, “Well did you use him?”

“No, no, God, of course not. Bergeron has stupid underlying motives in his behavior toward me that affects the way he sees my actions. It’s like… If I leaned over and whispered a secret to you in the same room as him, he’d assume I’m talking to you about him even if I’m not. Make any sense?”

“Definitely. Sounds like Patrice, too. I mean, I know I really shouldn’t talk about him, but Patrice tends to think like that. And I’m totally not saying he’s really self-absorbed, but he’s like paranoid or something. It’s really dumb.”

“I was thinking that he behaves like that because of that Kelsey girl, you know? It would make sense that he should be so paranoid with women now and I guess me having an IQ intimidates him.”

Lex made her way out of the bathroom completely changed in a simple dark blue dress. Her eyes flickered from Avery’s to mine as she walked toward her new heels. “Well he might also genuinely be jealous. If you haven’t noticed, you’re kind of sexy. The way you and Milan have that weird private psychiatrist/patient relationship has to be getting to him.”

Avery then added, “Yeah, you guys are really similar to each other. Might think he deserves to be like that with you more than Looch… God, I need a boyfriend. All this analyzing behavior has me wanting to start a ‘private’ relationship of my own.”

“I’m pretty sure we all need to get laid,” chuckled Lex.

“Speak for yourselves.”

“Oh, come on. Being in bed without having your hands all over Milan and that amazing body of his had to have you hot and bothered. We all know he’s gotta be a sex god by now,” spouted Avery with a wide suggestive grin.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, he’s nice to look at but talking to him like that… The last thing the moment calls for is sex.”

“You still want it though.”

Now I actually thought about this for a moment before replying, “Maybe. Like if something happens and one thing leads to another, I’d regret it. He doesn’t deserve any one night stands or any meaningless nights like that… I guess what I’m saying is like… If he and I were to hook up, it’d have to be for the long haul. None of that fuck-buddy kind of crap.”

-

“What the hell was that all about?” Lex asked me urgently in the women’s bathroom. No one was present in the small restaurant but the two of us. If any, it was the perfect time to get each other away from the public eye.

“What was what about?”

“The whole long-haul thing with Looch. Is this part of your plan? Are you going to hurt him?” Lex snapped even more now, ready to pull the plug on this entire thing in order to “save” her friend. “He has nothing to do with Blake and Tera. Why are you getting involved with him and Patrice?”

I simply smiled and touched her shoulder reassuringly. “In a group of this size, with so many problems and secrets, I have to start working from the most severe to the less. That basically means I have to start with the most complicated problems, solve and mend them the best I can, and then work my way up to the easiest stuff like secrets.”

Her facial expression read that she still didn’t follow.

“Lex… I’m trying to mend Milan and Patrice’s friendship by getting in between them. Well, by getting under Patrice’s skin, anyway. See, if he thinks I’m just going to be another slut and use Milan, he’s going to go to his friend’s aid and show how much he cares. You have to understand how far that’s going to go with Looch. I’m not saying it’s going to be a damn cake walk, but if I can mend and strengthen their relationship, then that’s a ton of tension off the core of the group.”

“So wait… You’re saying that you’re going to have Patrice be the hero this time? What about you? They’re going to be angry with you, Ray. You’re going to be the center of the tension if they have to team up and take you down to become closer… I don’t get this.”

A small smile, sad but true, made its way to my lips. “That’s one of the sacrifices I might have to make. Look, I know what I’m doing. Just trust me, okay? If I can pull this off, then neither boy is going to hate me and we’ll all be dapper in no time, alright?” But for the first time, my lying didn’t sit well in my stomach. Yes, sacrifices have to be made in order to make this one shot count, but I never expected to hate myself for it this much. I mean, usually I did feel a small tinge of regret. This time, that tinge was like an arrow through my heart.

Of course, that method that ended in Milan and Patrice disliking me was only the last resort. I knew Patrice better than he could imagine and, if I was right about him, when the boys were to return a night from then, he would do exactly what I expected.

“Lex, I just need you to do me a favor in the mean time, okay? I really don’t want to hurt Milan or Bergeron. That plan is like my last resort. So that means I’m gonna need some help on his end of everything, okay?”

She seemed slightly relieved at hearing this. I didn’t blame her. I’d feel the same in her situation, watching her friends be manipulated into getting along. “What do you need me to do?”

-

When the boys arrived home the following night, the house had become magically spotless at the hands of us three ladies. It was only Blake, of the three males, who actually set foot in the house, only because he needed to change his shirt for their impending night on the town. I only joined in their fun for the first half of the night where we all went out to dinner and got drinks. When the party scene hit and I retreated home for the night, I received a simple text from Lex reading: Did it. :]

What I didn’t expect to find was that everyone had ventured home early. According to “Munch”, as Matt was apparently known, the party was a complete disaster.

“Yeah, thought it’d be fun. Turns out the guest list of three hundred had a zero too many. Lame!” the boy flopped down on the couch with Blake and Milan and cracked open a beer. Practically everyone had kicked off and thrown their shoes somewhere near the entry way, making my walking path a tripping hazard. I nearly ate shit twice before getting to the kitchen for some food.

The lights were all shut off until everything was engulfed in darkness. The sounds of movie advertisements boomed through the house. My path was lit by the refrigerator as I poured myself a glass of milk and sat on the counter to sip from it. Various voices asked if I would be watching 300 with them, but I declined lazily, my excuse being that I had seen it a thousand times and didn’t feel like watching it again.

Come on… I’m giving you all the opportunity in the world… Come on, kid…

I finished my glass and slid off the edge of the counter. My feet were light against the ground as I seemingly floated over the floor to my room. With a loud yawn, I bid everyone a good night.

Come ON, kid! Christ, I want to make this quick!

But nothing, no sound came from the doorway like I wanted. No other breathing could be followed by my keen ears. I had finally given up for the night.

“Might as well just change,” I grumbled to myself and closed the bedroom door softly.

I stood before my closet for brief while, sifting through the few oversized shirts I had especially for sleep. My thumb hit something of a sleek texture as I fingered through the different materials, only to bring to my attention some things that definitely didn’t belong to me. They were all larger shirts and definitely belonged to a male. One was an old bruins practice jersey and the other few were simply Property of Bruins Hockey t-shirts.

A half smile made its way to my lips as I pulled one from its hanger and exchanged it for my little black dress. The grey and gold shirt reached just under mid-thigh and had the unmistakable scent of peppermint. At first I thought the scent was a funny coincidence to the fact that the holidays were coming up, but as I inhaled it once more, it became nearly intoxicating. There was a huskiness about it that I couldn’t place that made me feel warm and comfortable. It made me feel like home.

Well, if I actually had one.

A thin smile, devious and conniving, revealed a side of my nature I most preferred to keep hidden from the world. The simple clicking sound of my door shutting followed by relaxed breathing, deep and calculated, was for once music to my ears. I refrained from pulling on shorts or sweats like I had planned in my “giving up” on the night. I moved with a certain conceited grace I was sure annoyed the man sitting at the foot of my bed, watching me with eyes void of expression.

As a matter of fact, his brow seemed to narrow in disgust at the sight of me, but the underlying emotion he was attempting to hide was easily picked up by my keen, all too skilled senses. He was using his peripheral vision, as much as he hated himself for it, to stare my body down. I didn’t blame him; I couldn’t, because if he was the one half naked with a smirk on his face, I’d be mentally vulnerable too.

“Come to tell me what my weakness is?” I whispered with a haughty snake-like voice and eyed him like some kind of piece of meat. It was perfect, really, I was degrading him with my eyes and yet he seemed to eat it all up.

But spit it out.

He stood up lazily and scratched the side of his neck, eyes now glowing with a confident aura that I was beginning to lose sight of and fail to read. Small panic hit an alarm in my head as he stood tall in the center of my room. I simply leaned against the wall in front of him. “You’re going to mess up,” he stated with an overflow of confidence that almost sent a shiver up and down my steel spine.

“And what makes you think that?”

“You’re too calm.”

“So are you.”

“You’re too confident.”

“Look in a mirror.”

“I can read you like an open book.”

“We’re a copy of the same print. You think that’s supposed to scare me?”

He only glared.

Gotcha.

“You and I are so alike, Bergeron. It’s almost pathetic the way you deny it.” I took a step toward him and half smiled a venomous smile. “Does it irk you to know that I’m just as smart and I’ll dare say manipulative as you are?” Another step toward him. He didn’t budge. “Does it annoy you that Milan and I are so close in such a short amount of time?” I took a step around him now, at his back, and ran my fingers across the tense muscle through his t-shirt. He twitched at my touch and jumped slightly to face me, shaking now with anger. Why?

“Does it just tear you apart inside to know that you want my attention and you lose it to your best friend?”

Because I was right.

Before I could say another word, he crashed his body against mine, gathering me helpless in his arms. Both hands balled the bottom of the shirt I was wearing, pulling me hard against him. His mouth found mine, rough and unrelenting, prying my lips apart and exploring my mouth with a sense of urgent aggression finally overflowing. And I kissed back, yes, but only enough to tease him into continuing with the false hope that I would egg him on with sure signs of mutual attraction.

I could have pulled myself closer against him. I could have kissed back with all of the ferocious aggression he and I both shared. I could have wrapped my legs around his waist and told him to lock my door, but I didn’t.

He had assaulted my senses until he came to his own and realized that I had won. He realized that I was completely and utterly right about him and that I was solid; I was everything he feared and admired all in one. And that was his weakness; that was the bane of his current existence. He wanted me.

Of course, as I inhaled his scent directly from the source, overwhelmed by the intense sensation of his body so close to mine, I couldn’t help but succumb to what my heart wanted to say. I usually never betrayed my conscious less mind, but as I came to realize whose shirt I was wearing, whose sent made me feel so comfortable and at ease, I knew I would never forgive myself for letting him walk out of the room distraught and angry.

My tongue swept over my red lips as he stared at me with almost terrified eyes in acknowledgement to what he had done. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself at that moment besides run. The difference between us then was that I did know what to do. I simply peered up at him with eyes noticeably void of regret and ran the palm of my hand gingerly over his cheek. He stared down at me, perplexed for showing what he was sure was a sign of my vulnerability, the sign that maybe I did feel something for him too.

But I would never admit that. And he knew it too. And so it came to him as no surprise that I would press my index and middle fingers together against my lips and then up to his forehead, turn my heel, and whisper.

“Goodnight, Patrice.”