Wanted Always (Xander Barns) (4 page)

That did it.

“There is nothing wrong with my job! I
love my job. At least I have a job; you still get money from your mommy and
daddy!” I snapped back.

“I have a university degree, and I’m
trying to start a business! What the fuck are you doing with your life?
Nothing! All you’re good at doing is acting like a pathetic waste of space!”

Spiteful, low-blow number two, or
two-thousand? I wasn’t sure at this point. I’d lost count.

Silence.

No words were spoken for the next minute.
From my part, it was on purpose to stay silent; I didn’t trust myself not to
burst into a hysterical fit of tears once I’d open my mouth.

I’d needed to calm myself down before I
retaliated.

Taking a deep breath, I’d taken my turn to
speak.

“Well then, I guess it was fate,” I’d told
him slowly, quietly. “I’m such a waste of space, and you’re the one going places
with your university degree and business plans. You’re doing yourself a
disservice by being with a pathetic time-waster like myself.”

I’d tucked my hands into my hoodie’s
pockets and looked to the ground; this was going to be hard for me to do, officially
do. But after what he did, after what he said to me, called me, I had no
choice.

“I wish you the very best of luck in
life…”

Ben had let out an exaggerated huff of
disbelief, interrupting me.

I kept going, though.

“I hope everything works out the way you
want, and I hope you find someone that’s at the level you think you’re on,” I
said slowly, lifelessly.

I didn’t look up, I couldn’t look up. If I
did, then game over.

“What the fuck are you mumbling about?”
Ben had exclaimed, irritated, trying to play stupid, and pretending he didn’t
actually hear me break up with him.

I did.

“You heard me – loud and clear. It’s
over,” I’d told him, then quickly turned around and speed-walked toward my red
Ford Focus.

Get to the car – Now!

“What?!” Ben had muttered loudly,
confused. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re not done here!”

I heard his frantic footsteps pound into
the grass, trying to catch up to me, which he did in no time.

My Ben – slash that – my ex-Ben, is fast,
he ran track in high school.

“Stop making this all about you!” he
yelled from behind me all of a sudden. I didn’t stop, but the speed-walking
soon turned into running.

“You’re making a fool of yourself!” he
yelled right behind me.

When I reached the driver’s door, I turned
to see Ben. He’d stopped running and was walking toward me, looking disgusted
and shaking his head at me. “Go away, Ben, don’t come anywhere near me!” I
ordered, but Ben didn’t listen; he just kept walking toward me. “It’s over, you
don’t need to worry about me or what I’m doing, not that you did that before,
anyway.”

I shake my head to wipe away the brutal
memories.
It’s time to face reality again.

The party.

I snap out of the flashback moment of the
second
worst day of my life and check the time on my phone; it’s almost 7:15 pm. I
check the parking lot; it doesn’t seem like there is anyone else coming.

“I think that’s it for guests, Daniels,” I
tell him, relieved.

“I agree, Miss Gellys,” Daniels replies.

“Okay, I’m going to go in now.” I reach
for the door for the millionth time, and this time I pull against it, making
the door open. Before I step a foot out, I turn to Daniels, “Wish me luck?”

“Good luck. I’ll be waiting in that spot
right over there when you’re ready to leave.” Daniels points to a parking spot.

I nod. “Okay, see you in a little bit.”

I get out of the car, instantly smoothing
out my dress, then examining for any wrinkles. Thank God, there are none. I
shut the door behind me and make my way to the front entrance.

Here goes nothing.

Chapter Two

*Marisa*

The Pacific Banquet Hall’s front entrance
doors take the thrust of two arms to push through successfully. Here’s hoping I
don’t get bitten by the sweat fairy and show up after five months like I’ve
just jogged from wherever I moved to.

They totally would think that, because
they’re them and I’m me. I’m a laugh, and the old me would actually run to a
party if I was running late, and if it was close to my house.

I’m a laugh, what can I say? I do – No – I
did
do things like that, and now, I don’t understand why, either.

Here’s to growing up.

As soon as I enter inside the facility, a
blast of air conditioning bursts on top of me, flowing freely through my fab
dress and another place, bringing me back to a place I am trying to forget.

You’re clean; you’ve cleaned yourself
thoroughly!
I remind
myself for the millionth time. This is a problem that I’ve already dealt with.
So why can’t I move past it?

I don’t know, maybe it’s because I woke up
in some random skank’s underwear?!

Breathe.

The front lobby of the two-story brick
facility is empty – thank God – while I’m having my moment of gathering myself.
I’m glad the staff aren’t around to watch me; I’m sure my face, since I am an
open book when it comes to showcasing how I feel at any particular moment,
would have been pure comedy.

Mom is probably keeping them all busy with
her party. God knows that woman is a slave driver when she wants to be,
especially when it comes to parties.

She likes to do them all flash and cash,
show the people how it’s done. I was the only thing she’d usually blame when
things weren’t going a certain way, or if she had a weird feeling that the
partygoers weren’t as impressed as they should have been. Something must have
gone wrong, or rather, someone was ruining the overall picture of the façade
she was trying to create.

Little old me.

So I didn’t act it up like she did. That
did not mean I ruined the atmosphere of her parties. In my opinion, I was a
welcoming host who tried her very best to make sure things ran smoothly.

“Why do you insist on embarrassing your
father and me, Marisa? Honestly! Purple and brown?” I remembered a memorable
quote from last year during a little party she was having at the house. I
decided to wear my purple sweater with my dark-brown slacks, which I cuffed at
the bottom because they were a tad bit too long.

I got them on sale, and sometimes you just
have to make things work when you choose to buy things on sale. Did I mention I
bought all my own clothes, and paid for all my bills when I lived with them? I
may not have graduated from university like Ben did, but unlike him, I didn’t
mooch off my parents for everything under the sun.

Mom didn’t think this was an
accomplishment, instead, applauding Ben’s goal of obtaining a university degree
and making a life for himself, the right way, the respectful way. And if that
took a little extra time at home then so be it, it would all be worth it in the
end.

Once again, whatever I was doing, didn’t
count for shit.

I was and probably still am the loser. To
the family, to the family friends and most of all probably still to Ben.

Jesus!
I frown at my reflection in the rectangle mirror
hanging behind the sitting area. I haven’t even made it past the front lobby
and I’m already talking myself down.

This is going well.

I don’t even need Mom in person to make me
feel like shit. I can just use the memories of her to do that. Fuck, I don’t really
need any of them to make me feel like a loser. I already do a good enough job
doing that for myself.

Who needs enemies when you’ve got your
fucked-up brain instead!
Not me! Not fuckin’ me!

I glance down at the white tiled floor. I
feel chest pains on the horizon, and the look on my face is only exculpating
that inevitability.

Ooh, pretty shoes!
A wide smile instantly turns my frown
upside–down. I feel light and bubbly, warm all of a sudden.

My beautiful BCBG silver heels do that;
they totally do that. I guess the myths about good shoes really are true; they
do make you feel amazing.

And damn it, it’s so strange, because I
feel so Goddamned amazing right now. I do a little shimmy, bouncing my feet up
and down against the tile while smiling goofily.

No more – you understand – no more!
Remember, you’re not a loser – and you’ve got really nice shoes on, and damn
it, girl, you better work them!
I take a deep breath, look back up to the mirror, and nod surely to myself.

It is time to get this thing started. Time
to walk in, and for jaws to drop!

That’s right, move over, bitches; Marisa’s
coming in!

Now, which room are they in?

****

I follow down the only hallway to one of
three party rooms. Apparently, at this facility, they could host either one
huge wedding, or two medium average-sized parties that would use up two party
rooms. But nothing more than that because they only had about 100 parking
spaces. I walk past a pair of double doors, no noise is coming from inside
them, which is odd because the parking outside is supposed to be enough for two
parties booked at a time.

So how many people did Mom actually invite
to this thing? Because the last time I had checked, that parking lot was jammed
packed!

Way more than a hundred people, that is
for sure.

The next party room is further down the
hall, and from my field of vision,. I can see people bustling in front of the
doors, and the closer I get, the louder the music becomes.

Here it comes. Here it comes. I feel
butterflies in the pit of my stomach; the nerves are really kicking in now that
I am getting closer to this moment, five months in the making.

As I get closer to the double doors, a few
kids run out and begin playing tag.

That used to be me…
sigh
.

The kids run past me down the hall,
screaming and shouting at the top of their lungs, announcing to the entire
facility how much fun they are having. As I catch each of their faces, I don’t
recognize them to be able to locate their parents in case they went looking for
them; I’ll happily point which way the kids went running in case any of the
parents lose sight of them. Although, knowing the type of people Mom associates
with, I’ll probably be blamed for their disappearance.

Keep mouth shut…avoid blame…avoid it like
the plague.

I grab the door handle and jerk it easily
open, loud music instantly surrounds me. I catch a glance of the room, and just
like Kyle’s Halloween party, this party is packed to the rafters.

Wow! How many people did Mom actually invite?
Definitely 130 plus, that’s for sure!

The room’s lights are dimmed low as fun
party lights move across the room. I enter the room, oblivious to any of the
other partygoers; they are all busy getting down with the music, probably
already on their third drink from the open bar I see to my left and the huge
line around it.

Mom always does open bar. Not having an
open bar is tacky, and honestly, what’s the point of having a party if you
can’t provide alcohol freely to your guests?

I kind of agree with her on that…for once.

I know; it’s shocking.

This is perfect. I don’t stick out like a
sore thumb; everyone’s too drunk to notice me!
I think with glee, my eyes circling the room,
checking out the decorations Mom carefully implemented throughout it. The theme
is gold and sea blue; there’s a giant banner saying ‘Happy 50th Birthday’ in
those colors, and it is hanging over the DJ’s booth that is set up at the end
of the dance floor. I check around me, a round table with a large bouquet of
flowers is set up right beside the door. The bouquet is filled with blue and
gold flowers. I lean in closer to examine the gold ones, and sure enough, they
have been spray-painted.

Spray-painted flowers, who would have
thought
. Beside the large
bouquet of flowers, there’s a small crystal bowl of blue and gold breath mints.
My stomach grumbles as a waitress makes her way through a crowd of people
holding a tray filled with deep fried shrimp.

Oh my God, I’m so hungry, I haven’t eaten
anything since – since – damn. I don’t even remember when I last ate!
I worriedly think. I pat my disgruntled
stomach as my mind wonders to the point when I last put something in my mouth.

A flood of memories comes to me all of a
sudden.

Last night after we left the club, I
remember something!
My
mind regurgitated a moment lost in the fog I’ve been struggling to get through
since this morning’s rush of activities. Spots of images resurface in one swift
motion, and I see myself stumbling next to a well-mannered Xander on our way
out of Lethe.

“I um veryyyy ungry, I ungry, Xander,” I’d
blubbered, wiping my sweaty hair out of my face, blinking twenty times, trying
to clear my eyes of the lasers and smoke from inside Lethe that had followed me
out. Xander grabbed my arm and led us out into a hidden hallway, at the end was
a door.

“Where we…uh…goin’?” I asked, trying to
keep up with his long strides. I glanced at him; he was still wearing his black
sunglasses, and he was scowling.

“What’s your problammm?”

Xander stopped us right in front of the
door and turned to face me. “There’s nothing wrong. I’m just concerned.”

“Concerned ‘bout what?”

He comes a little closer and caresses the
side of my face. “Darling, you haven’t eaten since, since I don’t even know.
Even on the train you didn’t eat anything, and tonight you’ve been drinking on
an empty stomach. That’s why I’m concerned,” he says softly.

Xander touchin’ me funny again…I smiled
lazily at him and bent my face into his palms.

“I’m a hungry, hungry Xander, need food,
need food now,” I muttered into his palm, then broke into a fit of giggles.

“You’re hungry. Well don’t you worry,
because Uncle Xander is going to feed you,” Xander soothed teasingly.

Uncle?

“You’re not mah untle, you’re too
younguh!” I mumbled, my face still in his palm. I closed my eyes for a second.
“How old you, Xander, I’m a big girl. I’m twenty-two?”

I hear his soft chuckles as I take a
little bit longer to open my eyes. Drunk or not, it suddenly dawned on me we
were still in the hallway. What the hell were we doing?

“I’m a big boy too; I’m twenty-nine,”
Xander answered in a soft chuckle. He let out a long sigh and I heard his phone
beep. “Come on, big girl, our ride’s here.”

He put his palm down and I fell down with
it, but he caught me midway to the ground.

Saved me again…so sweet…so, so sweet, I
thought, as he grabbed my arm and opened the door, letting in a cold breeze
that my body gratefully relished.

“Ahhhhh, some fresh air will do you some
good!” Xander exclaimed happily, taking me outside to a taxi sitting idle in
the alleyway. He’d put me inside the car and had crawled in after.

“Let’s get you some food, shall we?” he
said, then turned to the driver…

That’s all I remember. The rest of the
images are too foggy for me to decipher what happened from then on.

The waitress with the fried shrimp platter
makes her way through every person in the crowd and is finally making her way
over to me. She stops in front of me.

“Would you like one?” she asks politely
with a welcoming smile. I want to take one; hell, I want to take all of them;
that’s how hungry I am. But I need to find my family first, and I don’t want
the first words spoken between us in over five months to be with shrimp-breath.

“No, thanks,” I decline. The waitress
smiles and moves on to the next person who grabs three toothpicks.

Hog!
I laugh inwardly at their behavior, but mostly
from jealousy.

Damn it! I’m hungry.

I grab two mints, one gold and one blue,
and pop the gold one into my mouth. The mint flavor overtakes my mouth in an
instant.

At least now when I speak with everyone,
my mouth will be minty fresh. Total class play. I tuck the blue one into my
clutch for later and trudge through the crowd in search for the twins or Dad.

Just not Mom, ugh… I don’t want to speak
with her. I don’t have it in me to speak with her. Not on an empty stomach at
least; and damn it, I’m getting irritated at the thought of being hungry now,
so I’ve got no patience…great.

I walk past a few groups of people that I
recognize as my parents’ work friends. I say a quick hello to each of them.