JERK
1630 Words
Isla
“Ryder, Ryder… f**k… just like that; don’t stop.”
I turned putting my pillow over my head, groaning. It was another voice.
I didn’t expect him to be faithful, but three girls in the space of twenty-four hours in a small town like ours?
I didn’t want to call my future step brother, a man w***e. But with each hour I spent having a very audible display of his s****l romp in the sheet, the glass shoe was fitting a bit too well.
“I’m coming… I’m right there.”
I rolled my eyes. Well, try to do that more quietly, preferably without a public announcement?
Giving up on the idea of getting another hour of sleep, I reached for my phone on my nightstand with my eyes close.
I closed my hand around it and when I retrieved it, I hated the way my stomach sank when I saw the lack of notification.
Me: You know how I told you that the fries and tacos in the cafeteria are unbelievably good? Like out of this world good? Well, the lunch lady is leaving. On the upside, she is opening a restaurant so that’s good news for her, on the downside, there goes my tacos!
Me: School has been stressful lately but nothing I can’t handle. Guess what will make my day better, a call from you or even a text. Kisses!
Me: Jason, are you there? Please text me back. I’m getting worried.
Jason: Busy.
Me: I understand. I’m also busy preparing for my midterms but try to drop a text or two.
Jason: OK
Me: Sooo… I’m having a hard time picking a shirt for this little party Bianca my dorm mate invited me to. My blue knitted top and olive green cotton button up are my strongest contenders.
Jason: Sounds good.
Me: Decided to go with olive green. You always preferred me in green because of my eyes.
Me: I got 97 in AP Biology! Can you believe it. Where did my 3 marks go? My new professor is just evil.
Me: My mum is getting married, Jason. I don’t know what to do. Please call me.
Me: Exams are almost over and it scares me, I don’t know what to expect. She said I could go back to our house if moving in with the alpha is still too sudden. How do I tell her that it would only uncomfortably remind me that she is gone?
Me: I’m coming back tomorrow. I’ve missed you. This long distance is crazy. Happy that we are just mere weeks from imprinting on each other and then you’d be my mate that I picked for myself, acknowledged by the elders and my family.
Me: I’m BACK! Can’t wait to meet you.
Me: So our cafe this morning. 8am?
Just like my other messages, Jason had read it and had not replied.
We had gone from texting each other about every minuscule detail of our lives, to him reading my messages and ignoring them. When he did reply, it was always a lackluster monosyllable.
I’d thought once I was back, I’d realize that the sudden distance on his end was all in my head and it would become a thing of the past.
But the fact that he had not replied to my recent message about me being home filled me with fear.
Something wasn’t right. My eyes involuntarily went to the mixed media photo collage pinned to the wall of my pastel painted room.
It was hand made. A gift from my mom on my thirteenth birthday. She had layered on it dried flowers, an inspirational note and a birthday card.
It was filled with tons of picture of the both of us, with the first being me at nine and him at ten. While the last was our most recent one, a selfie we had taken a day before I’d left for school. He was smiling while I leaned into him, my cheeks flushed from him kissing them seconds before the picture was taken.
It was one of the things I loved most about my room apart from the floor-to-ceiling window that allowed for a beautiful view of the rocky landscape our house was erected on.
I needed to see him soon. Possibly today.
But first, I needed to make breakfast since I had a growling housemate to feed after all.
With a plan in mind, I felt more settled as I made my bed, changed from the tank top and shorts I had slept in to something more decent, put my hair in a lazy bun and headed to the kitchen.
I grabbed a pan from the lower cabinets and then turned on the stove. I was hoping to make breakfast and leave for Jason’s before Ryder came out of his room.
The lesser interactions I had with him, the better it’d be for both of us.
I turned on my iPod, connected my earbuds and within minutes, Pony by Ginuwine was all I could hear.
I hummed under my breath, shaking my head as I grabbed what I needed for breakfast from the fridge: bacon and eggs.
Quick and easy. It’d have to do.
I dropped the bacon into the sizzling pan and started cracking the eggs.
I was still waiting for the bacon to be crisp and brown just how I like it, when one of my earbuds were rudely tugged out of my ears.
I turned. He was standing so close behind me, it made my mouth go dry.
His blonde hair which were short on the side, with a pile of lazy waves on top were disheveled, his eyes were half open and his face was in a frown that seemed to be a summary of his foul personality.
Yet… yet, I understood why his f**k rotation worked. My stepbrother was good looking. Not easy on the eyes, good-looking, no, the striking type.
The stop whatever you’re doing and gape type of good-looking. Those full lower lips, and the unreal proportion of his cheekbones and jawline without even taking into account his tanned and toned body, could get most girls sold.
That was until he opened his mouth.
“I was talking to you, little Pip,” he frowned and stared at my earbud, “And what were you even listening to?”
Anticipating his intention, I was already reaching for my iPod to switch off the music, but the earbuds were in his ear before I could reach it.
He stood stock still in confusion for a minute or two, before he slowly removed the earbud and looked up to watch me like this was the first time he was seeing me.
I paused the music and grabbed my earbuds from him.
“Does your mom know that you love it when he tears off your clothes?” He asked, his eyes glinting with amusement, as he quoted the lyrics of Sweat by Zayn.
“Shut up,” I weakly retorted then letting my black curls act as a curtain for my flaming face, I busied myself with fixing a plate of food for us. “It is just music.”
He grabbed a bottle of water and gulped it straight from the can and even though it bothered me, I decided that I wouldn’t risk being pinned to the counter a second time because he was allergic to cups.
“It is erotic music. You don’t look like the type,” he commented.
I begrudgingly handed him a plate, hoping it’d shut him up while I made a run for it. But the moment I turned to leave his hand was on my shoulders like he had anticipated it.
I turned, “I’m inviting friends over, go up and change into something less drab,” he said his eyes pointedly on my oversized comfy sweatshirt. “We are going grocery shopping.”
“I have plans.” I croaked out.
“Postpone it.”
***
“You know you could offer to carry a bag or something,” I said with an eye roll, breathless as I held the two huge shopping bags. I wondered why he had bothered to ask me to cook when almost everything in the bag was alcohol.
I was still mad that he had intercepted my plan to leave for Jason’s.
“Why?” He asked, his hands in his pocket as he walked at my side. “If I’m paying for the food you should learn to pull your weight with house chores.”
I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t ask you to pay for the groceries. I’ve money too.”
“Really?” he drawled. “So your hand me downs are a fashion choice? Bold.”
I didn’t bother to tell him that the blue knitted top I had on was in fact not a hand me down, but I’ve always been more comfortable with clothes that were more on the bigger side after I’d hit puberty.
I doubt he would get it.
Because as he passed, people stared but he looked unfazed like he had a lifetime to get use to the attention that came with his looks.
Well, I didn’t. One minute I was just a child playing with rocks and climbing trees and the next, my chest were all men could stare at when they talked to me, even though my eyes were way up.
He sighed and then grabbed a bag, that were mostly filled with vegetables and food stuff hence lighter. “I don’t have all day to match your turtle like pace. Hurry up.” He said then doubled his pace.
I glared at his back as I jogged to meet his long strides. Jerk.
- Writer
