Hellcat

Chapter 20

Wilder Sanchez

The day has come for me to revisit the Bennett house. I can't say I'm not excited. I wake up early in the morning, even though I won't be going there till after community service which is after a long day of school. Considering the possibility that their parents might be home when we get there, I decide to dress nicely. I'm not saying I usually dress like a pauper it's more of the decency factor I'm considering. Abe's dad is a reverend. And his mom is into academia. I don't think either of them would much appreciate my leather jackets and platformed boots. 

After a forty-minute long bath, I mop off the water with my tea-rose coloured fluffy towel and prance around my apartment unclothed while searching for something 'appropriate'. It's difficult to find something that doesn't come in black of purple in my wardrobe. But somehow, I manage to find the right clothes to pull off a decent look. 

I pair a black plaid skirt with a navy blue knitted sweater thrown over a collared shirt. The skirt is the longest one I know, and after much tugging, it almost touches my knees. 

The change in clothes makes me feel like a different person. Like a preppy schoolgirl. 

Josh seems to think the same thing when we meet up at Starbucks later in the morning. 

It's a thirteen-minute walk from my apartment so I get into the coffee shop early. A few minutes in line and I am settled at a table for two with my pumpkin spice hot chocolate in hand and two double chocolate cookies to go with. 

I'm sipping my hot chocolate and scrolling through my social media when Josh walks into the coffee shop and joins me not long after. 

The first thing he says upon seeing me is, "Which bet did you lose?" 

"What are you talking about?" I ask before taking a large bite out of my chocolate cookie. God, I love chocolate. It's the one drug I'll never get off. I wish my life is this simple: Love to eat those cookies, cookies what I love to eat. 

"That's the only explanation I can think to why you are dressed like that." Josh suddenly gasps dramatically, hand flying to cover his mouth in shock. "Oh My God. Eli, are you mentally ill?" He gasps at the end, uttering the last word with an accompaniment of stifled giggles. 

"Don't be ridiculous, " I snap.

Josh goes on as if he didn't hear me. "It all makes sense now- your ability to resist my charms is not because of a strong will but a mental illness you are suffering from. Do you have bipolar disorder? Is this your second personality, Eli?"

I smack him. 

"Ow, " he whines. "What was that for?"

I drink my hot chocolate. "You were droning on and on and I needed to shut you up."

"You could have used your words, " he grumbles. 

I smirk. "And what's the fun in that?" 

"You're a sadist, " Josh states matter-of-factly. "My best friend is a sadist. It explains why you are constantly hitting me and why you enjoyed laser tag so much, even though there was no bodily damage." 

I smack him again. 

"And what was this one for?"

"No reason, " I say and take a bite out of my cookie. Cookies are good. I wish everyone was a cookie. But then there would no people in the world because I'd have eaten all.

If everyone was a cookie, you would be too.

"You just proved my point."

And so, just for the heck of it, I hit the back of his head one last time.

Watching Josh rub his head while moaning in pain Incant help but think, maybe he's right. Not about the mental illness part, that's absurd. But he's right about one thing. I do enjoy hitting him. But it's more jovial than serious. 

Right?

It's not the first I have been to the house but it's the first I allow myself to properly take it all in. The Bennetts live in a six-bedroom ranch house on a suburban street. 

"Wow, " I breath out as I gape at the beautiful mansion standing in front of me. It has a long circular driveway lined with palm trees and neatly trimmed hedges. In the middle of the driveway is an evergreen planter surrounding a small stone fountain spurting clear water which falls gently into the pool beneath. The water looks amber because of the warm light coming from the mansion. The house itself looks contemporary, with a touch of medieval. 

Abe looks at me funny. When Josh walks ahead and it's just the two of us he asks, "Why are you pretending to be enamoured?"

"I'm not, " I answer honestly but Abe does not seem to believe me. "Your house is beautiful."

He blushes, lowering his head to the ground as he murmurs a quiet 'thank you' before we walk into the house. 

Abe leads me through a massive door that leads into an impressive grand foyer. The foyer has a high dome-shaped ceiling with a huge crystal chandelier that hangs in the middle of the room. There is a grand marble staircase to the left side of the room and it opens up into other areas of the house. Everything in the house is white. It's so painfully white with tiny touches of cream and grey. 

"This is amazing, " I say in awe. I notice Abe coming from a room holding a glass of water. I was so busy starting around I hadn't heard him leave.

"Thanks, " I say as I take the glass of clear liquid from his outstretched hand. I sniff the liquid to be sure he has not drugged it and Abe chuckles when he sees me doing this. 

"I'm not going to poison you, " he says with a chuckle. 

"I know, " I reply, sighing in content as the insipid coolness of the water hit my parched throat. "Just being safe." 

"Shall I give you the grand tour?" He asks, eyes crinkling. 

"Sure, " I shrug. 

Abe links arms with me, I can feel his body heat, smell his woody cologne. Discreetly, I lean in. 

"This is the living room, " he says gesturing into the room with a sweeping hand motion. I've never been in their living room. 

Two white couches sit opposite each other on the soft grey carpet, a black coffee table with a bowl of marbles on top of it is between the couches. The wall opposite the coffee table is mounted with an electric fireplace and a large television set hangs above it. Perfectly posed pictures of his family litter the mantle of the white marble fireplace. 

I go over to the fireplace and pick one of the frames that has caught my attention. It's a picture of Abe and Josh. Abe is wearing his basketball clothes and Josh is in his soccer jersey. The boys are holding a gold trophy in the air and grinning. Abe's hand is over Josh's shoulder and in the picture, they look more like twins.

"When was this?" I ask.

"Homecoming, sophomore year." He says coming to stand next to me. He takes it from my hands, and I let him. The touch of his fingers is warm and sends a jolt of electricity to my heart. 

"Let me show you the kitchen, " he says, gently steering me away from the pictures. I can tell he doesn't feel comfortable with me near the tokens of his private memories with his family so I let him lead the way. 

The kitchen is immaculate and modern, like every other part of the house. The cabinets, shelves and walls are all white. But the flooring is in a beautiful shade of creamy brown and the tiles above the stove are a delicate turquoise blue. Where there is no white, the kitchen is a vast stainless steel cave with only state-of-the-art cooking appliances. I feel like I'm on the set of the Food Network show, The Kitchen.

"You're sure your mom isn't a celebrity chef?" I ask, taking a look around their kitchen in awe. 

"Yeah, " Abe answers, taking an apple from the fruit bowl on the island. "Why do you ask?"

"It's the only explanation for why you need all of this, " I indicate to the sparkling ultramodern surroundings with wild hand waves. 

Abe laughs though I'm not sure what's funny. "The important thing is that we actually use it."

"That's true, " I say dragging a stool from under the island and plopping on it. "Most rich people just get sophisticated kitchens to show off to their guests."

"I can assure that is most definitely not the case here, " Abe states. "And I wouldn't call us rich."

I give him a disbelieving look. "You live in a f*****g mansion."

He winces at the cuss word. "I guess so, " he mutters lowly.

Josh appears not long after that looking panting for breath. 

"And where have you been?" I ask, smirking slightly. 

"I had to attempt to fix my room a bit. Now come on, I'll show you to it." He says, leading me to the staircase with a simple arm gesture, I follow him up the marble staircase finally taking a left and walking down the carpeted hallway with several doors. 

Josh stops in front of one of the doors. He turns around to face me. "I know I said I attempted to fix my room. The emphasis is on attempted."

"Okay, " I say simply and push the door open.

Josh's room is what I would expect of a sixteen-year-old boy- large and disordered, catastrophically untidy. His bedroom is more of a loft taking quite a large amount of space. The predominant colours are green and black. 

I pick a wet sock from the floor, wrinkling my nose as I hold it up to face level. "How did you miss this in your attempt to clean up?"

"Oops, " Josh shrugs his shoulders unapologetically. "But I cleared the table so we could work."

I nod going over to the black L-shaped couch in front of the flat-screen television and drop my bag to the floor, kick off my shoes and sprawl my body over the leather. 

"You sure know how to make yourself at home, " Josh mumbles. 

"What's yours is mine."

Josh exclaims, "Again with the marriage thing!" 

Ignoring his comment, I straightened up on the couch and begin removing books from my backpack. 

"Should we start with the drawings?" I ask, picking a pencil from a box of them on the table and taking an unmarked sheet of paper.

"I didn't bring you here to work early, " Josh says, coming to sit next to me. "Let's go swimming."

"But what about the project? It's due in two weeks. And we have that musical thing to worry about. There will be more time for fun and games after that's all over."

"But what if we're not friends anymore by then?" Josh asks quietly. "You and Abe would be done with your community service sentence and you'll have no reason to see me."

"I'm your friend Josh, " I say. "That's a reason for me to see you. You can't get rid of me that easily. Now come on, let's get to work." 

"Here are the pictures I took while in Paris and I printed a few from the internet as well." Josh takes out a wad of photographs from a folder in his lap. "We can look at these do some comparison, addition and subtraction and boom, well have our still life."

I grin. "Then all that will be left is the construction and assemblage part." 

"It's not rocket science."

No.

It wasn't.

It was much worse.

Even though Josh and I generally work well together we found it next to impossible to get a definite drawing for the landscape. We had argued six times and twice Josh stormed out to his covered lanai to get some air.

This was only the designing stage, I would hate to imagine how much more complicated the building process would be. 

But after two hours of squabbles and disagreements and digs at each other, we finally reached a compromise.

Josh had wanted our work to be something big and flashy that you couldn't look away from. I wanted it to be small and cryptic so it would capture the viewer's attention for a long time.

We decided to make it ornate but cryptic. There would be double meanings and hidden messages in the bright lights and garish buildings.

Feeling pretty proud of our drawing, we decide to call it a day. I am packing up my stuff when Josh comes out of his bathroom wearing nothing but swimming trunks. 

"We're done working. Let's go for a swim, " he says. 

"I didn't bring a bathing suit, " It's a lie but I don't think Josh has X-ray vision to see through my clothes. 

"Doesn't matter, " he shrugs. 

"Abe and Keith are already down there waiting for us."

"You called Keith?" My voice is a squeak. 

Josh looks at me oddly. "He lives next door remember?"

"Yeah, " I remember. 

Josh smirks. "So how about that swim?" 

"Okay." 

Josh leads the way through the house. We pass through the living room, breakfast nook, family room and covered lanai to finally get to the pool deck. Three white lounge chairs are on the deck. Keith is sitting in one of them, eyes closed as he holds a glass of juice in one hand.

The pool, fed by an artesian well with a high iron content, is a pale shade of green. It's a fine evening, marked with a late summer air, almost as if autumn has gone on vacation only for this evening. 

The surface of the water ripples as Abe comes out of it. He's wearing nothing by black trunks, which hung low at his waist because of the water. His dark brown hair is wet, and the water trails over his washboard smooth stomach. Six-pack, who would have thought? 

I can't take my eyes off him. 

He has been swimming and now he is breathing heavily, stertorously as if he can gulp into his lings the components of the moment- the crisp in the air, the intenseness of his pleasure. 

He blinks, running his hand through his wet hair before grinning at me in a way that makes my heart do back-flips and my stomach flutter with lion cubs. "Hey."

All this time, he's been standing right in front of me. 

"Hi, " my voice is high-pitched and I clear my throat before trying it again. "Hi." 

Josh doesn't wait for pleasantries and dives right into the water. Keith seems to notice the tension between us and wisely chooses to bury his head in a book when we join him on the other two lounge chairs. 

Abe grabs a towel from the edge of a small cane table and slings it over his shoulder. "Do you plan on getting in there?" He asks, referring to the pool where Josh is wading like a fish. 

I stare into his eyes. Deep blue eyes. My favourite shade. I'm embarrassed to admit my cheeks flush slightly when I say the word. "Maybe." 

"It's cold. Like ice. But you might like it." He smiles at me strangely, almost as if he knows the levels of self-control it is taking for me to focus my eyes away from him his half-naked body. 

Standing up abruptly, I pull my sweater over my head, I can feel his eyes on me and it makes me shiver even though the evening air is not so cold. I shrug off the collared shirt and ditch the skirt. 

I'm left in my bathing suit. It's nothing too revealing. A black two-piece with floral straps. 

I have never been as self-conscious as I am when I dive into the water. I swim with a choppy crawl, breathing either with every stroke or every third stroke and counting somewhere in the back of my mind the one-two of a flutter kick.

To be embraced and sustained by the light green water is less a pleasure, it seems than the resumption of a natural condition, and I would have liked to swim without any clothes on. But I don't think I will be capable of that knowing Abe is watching only a few feet away. 

I go under the water, chlorinated soup hugging my body everywhere and I keep my eyes tightly shut. I stay under for as long as I can and when I come up to take in oxygen, Abe and Keith have joined us in the pool. 

Josh proposes a game of Marco Polo. And after two rounds of rock-paper-scissors. I am made to be it. This is rather unfortunate for them because I have picked up on my blindfold training and have gained more experiencing in seeing with my ears and nose. 

"Marco!" I howl. I sound like a mother looking for her son who dipped his finger in the jam before it finished setting and thus ruined the entire process- in short, a livid mom. 

Three unified male voices respond. "Polo!"

My eyes are tightly closed, I raise my nose to the air we'll aware that even though I can't see the others might think I look like a dog searching for his lost hare prey. 

I think about Abe. His deep blue eyes, his soft make laughter, his smooth muscled chest. My hands and legs swim on their own accord. I can feel his presence. He is close. The scent of bergamot is heavy.

I can feel his presence. It's so close. 

I reach for him. 

He is not there.