Beautiful Oblivion (10 page)

I smiled against the phone, wishing I could hug him. “It’s nice to know you don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t. It’s hard to explain . . . wanting this promotion and wanting to be with you just as much.”

“I get it. It’s not easy, but it’s going to be okay. We won’t always have to miss each other. We just have to get over the tough part in the beginning, right?”

“Right.” His reply was immediate and without hesitation, but I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“I love you,” I said.

“You know I do,” he said. “Have a good night, love.”

Knowing he couldn’t hear, I nodded, but it was all I could manage. We hung up without discussing Coby, or my second job, or that I’d been spending so much time with Trenton. My weekend tips had helped my brother pay most of one payment, but I worried it would just be a matter of time before he dropped out of his program.

I slipped a long-sleeved lacy black top over my head and fought with a pair of my favorite ripped jeans. Then I dabbed on some lip gloss before running out the door before I was late for my Friday night shift at the Red.

As soon as I walked into the employees’ entrance, I knew something was off. Everyone was dragging ass, and the bar was quiet. Too quiet. Normally I would treasure that first hour before everyone poured in through the doors. Friday was ladies’ night, so the rush began even earlier, but the bar was dead.

Thirty minutes in, Raegan was grumbling under her breath as she wiped down the bar for the third time. “Is there an underground fight thing tonight?”

I shook my head. “The Circle? It’s never held this early.”

“Oh, look. Something to do,” Raegan said, pulling down the Jim Beam.

Travis Maddox was trudging to his usual barstool, looking pitiful. Raegan put a double in front of him, and he sucked it down in one gulp, letting the glass crash to the wood.

“Uh-oh,” I said, taking the bottle Raegan handed me. “There’s only two things that could be that bad. Is everyone in the family okay?” I asked, bristling in anticipation of his answer.

“Yep. Everyone except me.”

“I don’t believe it,” I said, stunned. “Who is she?”

Travis’s shoulders fell. “She’s a freshman. And don’t ask me what it is about her. I don’t know, yet. But, when I was bagging this other chick today, I felt like I was doing something wrong, and then this girl’s face popped into my head.”

“The freshman’s?”

“Yeah! What the fuck, Cami? This has never happened to me before!”

Raegan and I traded glances. “Well,” I said. “It’s not the end of the world. You like her. So what?”

“I don’t like girls like this. That’s what.”

“Like
this
?” I said, surprised.

He took another shot, and then held his hands over his head, moving them around in circles. “She’s all in my head.”

“You’re such a pussy for a guy that doesn’t lose!” Raegan said, teasing.

“Tell me what to do, Cami. You know about girls. You’re kind of one.”

“Okay, first of all,” I said, leaning toward him, “suck my dick.”

“See? Girls don’t say that.”

“The cool ones do,” Raegan said.

I continued, “Second of all, you’re Travis fucking Maddox. You can have any girl you want.”

“Almost,” Raegan said from the sink, five feet away.

Travis’s nose wrinkled. “You were Brazil’s girl. I’ve never even tried.”

Raegan narrowed her eyes at the youngest Maddox brother. “Did you just say that to me?”

“Well,” he said. “It’s the truth.”

“Still would have never happened.”

“We’ll never know,” he said, raising his third shot before letting it wash down his throat.

“Easy, Mad Dog,” I said.

Travis cringed. “You know I fucking hate that.”

“I know,” I said lifting the bottle. “But it gets your attention. Here’s your plan. Number one, stop being a little bitch. Number two, remember who the hell you are, and work your magic. She’s no different from any other—”

“Oh, she’s different,” Travis said.

I sighed and looked at Raegan. “He’s got it bad.”

“Shut up and help me,” Travis said, frustrated.

“There are three tricks to landing a hard-to-get: patience, having other options, and being aloof. You are not the BFF. You’re sex on a stick, flirting just out of reach. In other words, Travis Maddox.”

“I knew it. You’ve always wanted me,” he said, smug.

I stood up. “Uh . . . no. Not at all. Not even in high school.”

“Liar,” he said, standing. “I never tried with you, either. My brother has always been in love with you.”

I froze. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did he know something?

Travis continued, “Aloof. Other options. Patience. Got it.”

I nodded. “If you guys end up married, you owe me a hundred bucks.”

“Married?” Travis said, his face screwing into disgust. “What the fuck, Cami? I’m nineteen! Nobody gets married at nineteen.”

I looked around, checking to see if anyone heard him admit to being underage. “Say that a little louder.”

He snorted. “Me getting married at all is unlikely? Anytime soon? Never gonna happen.”

“Travis Maddox doesn’t walk into a bar upset over a girl, either. You never know.”

“Shame on you for wishing that on me,” he said, winking. “I better see you at my next fight, Camille! Be a good friend, would ya?”

“You know I have to work.”

“I’ll make sure we schedule a late one.”

“I still won’t come! It’s barbaric!”

“Come with Trent!”

Travis turned to walk away, and I stood, stunned. Was he talking about Trenton before? So, Trenton was talking about me. Who else had he told? As Travis walked out through the thick, red door, a large group walked in, and then the crowd continued to trickle in after that. I was grateful that I didn’t have time to worry about whether or not there were rumors circulating, or if those rumors would get back to T.J.

Late the next morning, I walked into Skin Deep, already in a bad mood. T.J. hadn’t called or texted me back, which only fueled my paranoia about possible fallout from Trenton’s big mouth.

“Cami’s here!” Hazel said with a smile. She pushed black, thick-rimmed glasses up her nose.

I forced a smile. Hazel pouted her red-stained lips. “Why so sad? Did the Alpha Gamma party put you out of business last night?”

“Was that it? You went?”

She winked. “Gotta love sorority chicks. So what’s up with you?”

“Just tired,” I said, flipping the open sign.

“Heads up. Calvin is going to ask you to start working Sundays.”

“Are you serious?” I said, a little whinier than I’d intended. Today was not a good day to ask me to up my hours. By the time I rounded the counter, Trenton walked in.

“Chamomile!” he said. He was holding a bowl full of plastic fruit.

“Oh, please don’t. It wasn’t funny in middle school, and it’s definitely not funny now.”

Trenton shrugged. “I liked it.”

“You didn’t even know who I was in middle school.”

He frowned. “Says who?”

I made a show of looking around. “You didn’t speak to me until I grew tits.”

Hazel cackled. “Work has been so much more entertaining since she was hired!”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t know who you were,” Trenton said, unamused.

Hazel pointed to the bowl in Trenton’s arms. “What’s with the fruit?”

“For my room. It’s decoration.”

“It’s hideous,” she said.

“It was my mom’s,” he said, unfazed. “I decided I needed something of hers at work. Puts me in a good mood.” He walked down the hall and disappeared into his room.

“So,” Hazel said, leaning her elbows on the counter. Her thin, penciled eyebrow shot up. “The sexual tension around here is getting ridiculous.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you liked Calvin.”

Hazel wrinkled her nose. “No one likes Calvin.”

“I heard that!” Calvin called from down the hall.

“Good!” Hazel yelled back. “So, you’re really not interested in Trent?”

“Nope,” I said.

“Not even a little bit.”

“I have a boyfriend, and he makes me very happy,” I said, licking my thumb and counting forms.

“Damn,” Hazel said. “I kinda liked you two together.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” I said, straightening the stack in my hands before returning them to their bin.

The door chimed, and a group of four girls walked in: all blond, all tan, and all showcasing their double-D-cup breasts in tight shirts that were in various shades of pink.

I began to welcome them, but Hazel pointed to the door. The girls stopped in their tracks.

“C’mon, Hazel. We told him we’d stop by,” one of them whined.

“Out,” she said, still pointing with one finger, then looking down to turn a page of
Cosmopolitan
magazine with the other. When she didn’t hear the chime again, she looked up. “Are you fucking deaf? I said out!”

The girls frowned, and pouted for a few seconds before filing out the way they came in.

“What was that about?” I asked.

She shook her head and sighed. “Trent groupies. Bishop has them, too. Women who hang out at the shop, hoping to score free tattoos, or . . . I don’t know . . . that the guys score.” She rolled her eyes. “Quite frankly they annoy me, but up until recently they were allowed in.”

“What changed?”

Hazel shrugged. “Bishop stopped coming in as much, and Trenton told me to send them away not long after you started here. See? You’re not a total disappointment.” She elbowed me.

“I suppose I haven’t really been worth the paycheck. I can’t even mix the MadaCide right. Disinfectant is kind of important around here.”

“Shut the fuck up!” she said with a wry smile. “No one else could have talked Calvin into getting rid of the cheap Asian décor and restructuring the files. You’ve been here less than a month and we’re already more organized, and customers don’t wonder if they’ll get a free fortune cookie with their tattoo.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to feel appreciated.”

“I appreciate you,” Trenton said, walking into the lobby. “I appreciate that you’re finally going to watch
Spaceballs
with me tonight. I’m bringing it over.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head.

“Why not?”

“I’m working.”

“And then what?”

“Going to bed.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’re right. I have plans.”

He sneered. “With who?”

“I don’t know yet, but definitely not you.”

Hazel giggled. “Ouch.”

Trenton put his entire palm on Hazel’s tiny face and playfully pushed her away, keeping his hand on her as he spoke. “That’s not nice. I thought you said we’re friends.”

“We are,” I said.

Hazel finally struggled away from Trenton, and began slapping the shit out of his arm. Barely noticing, and only holding up one hand to fend her off, he continued, “Friends watch
Spaceballs
together.”

“We’re not that good of friends,” I said, concentrating on lining up the paper clips just right in their new organizer.

The door chimed, and two customers walked in: a couple. They were neck-deep in tattoos already.

“Hi,” I said with a smile. “How can I help you?”

“Rachel!” Hazel said, tackle-hugging the girl. She had an eyebrow piercing, a diamond for a beauty mark, and nose and lip rings. Her rocket-fire-red pixie cut almost glowed, it was so intense. Even with a head full of holes and arms covered in skulls and fairies, she was breathtaking. I sat back and watched them chat. Her boyfriend was tall and skinny, and just as glad to see Hazel. I couldn’t imagine either of them wanted more piercings or tattoos. Unless they wanted face tattoos, they had run out of blank skin to ink.

Hazel escorted them back to her room, and laughter and chatting ensued.

“It’s going to be a slow day.” Trenton sighed.

“You don’t know that. It just started.”

“I can always call it, though,” he said.

“Who are they?” I asked, nodding toward the hall.

“Rachel is Hazel’s sister.”

I raised an eyebrow, dubious. “Maybe this is ignorant, but Rachel isn’t Asian. Not even a little bit.”

“They’re both adopted. They were foster kids. There’s like a dozen of them or more. They’re spread all over the country now, and they all love each other like crazy. It’s awesome.”

I smiled at the thought.

“So you really won’t watch
Spaceballs
with me tonight?”

“Really.”

“Why not?” he said, crossing his arms and shifting his weight.

I smirked. “Getting ready for a fight?”

“Answer the question, Camlin. What do you have against
Spaceballs
? I need to know before we go any further.”

“Further than what?”

“You’re stalling.”

I sighed. “Between work and the Red, and . . . we’re seeing a lot of each other.”

He watched me for a moment, a hundred thoughts scrolling behind his warm russet eyes. He walked the few steps to stand next to me, putting the heel of his hand on the counter beside my hip, his chest touching my left arm. He leaned down, his mouth almost touching my hair. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” I said, my face compressing. He was confusing me, and way too close for me to think straight. I turned to tell him to back away, but when I looked up, I paused. He was right there. Inches away. Looking down at me with a look in his eyes I couldn’t decipher.

He looked down at my bare shoulder. “That’s a perfect spot for me to ink.”

I laughed once. “No.”

“Come on. You’ve seen my work.”

“I have,” I said, nodding emphatically. “It’s amazing.”

“Then what?”

I looked back up at him, trying to interpret his expression. “I don’t trust you. I’d probably end up with
MAY THE SCHWARTZ BE WITH YOU
.”

Trenton beamed. “Is that a
Spaceballs
reference? I’m impressed!”

“See? I’ve already seen it. A lot.”

“You can never see
Spaceballs
too much.”

Hazel, Rachel, and Rachel’s boyfriend returned to the lobby. Hazel gave Rachel a big hug, and then they said tearful goodbyes.

“Christmas is right around the corner,” Trenton said.