BAD LAD

6. Chris

“I’ll think about it. But it’s nice of you... to offer.” Kate replies.

“I’m not nice. I just like the concept in terms of housework and chores. For that, two chicks are better than one.”

She chuckles and I continue at a rapid rate that’s not like me:

“I’ll talk to your sister, but she’s probably blaming herself to death, so I don’t think she’ll say no. Give me your phone.”

Kate gives me a suspicious look.

“To do what?”

“To steal it.”

“Ah, ah, ah. You kind of have the look of a guy who grabs the bull directly, than the one who asks the owner.”

“Well, actually, you’re not as dumb as you look. Give me your damn phone so you can call me to get my address in case you accept.”

Her shoulders finally relax and I exhale as if I, too, needed to release the pressure.

She goes into the pocket of her little apron to pull out her phone. It takes me two seconds too long to take it because, suddenly, my stupid brain focuses on her waist and calculates if I could encircle it with my hands.

That’s what she looks like in girl’s clothes.

Annoyed by my reaction, I snatch at her fingers a little abruptly.

I thought she had a smartphone but I discover with astonishment a phone that’s easily five or six years old. I turn it in all directions carefully, as if it was a real antique.

This s**t surely has no Bluetooth.

Sighing, I enter the directory to see only three names. I frown. There’s Julie, Father Ste. and one called Zach.

Who’s that? Her boyfriend?

I throw her a glance but can only see her profile because her eyes are wandering the parking lot, lost in thought. I’m trying to visualize her with a guy without success.

I can’t imagine a guy. Maybe just a friend?

I shrug, type my name and then insert my number in the box below, before getting out my phone.

“Your number?” I ask, without looking up.

She gives it to me without thinking and I smile registering her under the name ‘Crazy-spear’.

“Damn, Chris! The food’s arrived and I’m not going to spend my night here, eh!” cries a voice from the restaurant’s doorway.

It’s Jo.

“Pack mine up! I’ll eat on the way!” I yell back.

I turn my head to give her phone back and meet a smirk. I raise an eyebrow.

“Something funny?”

“Bye... Christopher,” she whispers.

“Is there a problem with my name... Katherine?”

I can’t help but still feel this strange thrill again pronouncing it and it pisses me off to react in this way. She blushes hearing me and immediately looks away.

“You don’t have a Christopher face. Butch, Dan... but not something like Christopher,” Kate splutters.

She surely wanted to say I’m a rogue, but the result wasn’t what was intended; I grin wickedly.

“Zach?” I suggest to her in a sweet voice.

She jumps and I continue not without some cruelty:

“You don’t have the face of a Russian princess, I can tell you!”

I’m offended without understanding the reason, which irritates me even more.

Without even saying goodbye to her, I go back inside to join my friends and take off for a little party at the student dorms.   

I’m completely ripped, slouched on a couch so worn that the underlying springs poke through the brown velvet fabric. I rhythmically pull on one of them with my index finger and I guess I’m seriously stoned to find this little game captivating.

“Chris...”

This sensual voice belongs to Mel who sits on my knees and slides her arms around my neck. I give her a silly grin clouded by alcohol while my fingers are naturally placed at the bottom of her back.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

Her husky voice makes me shiver, accentuating my drunken grin. Her ass crowds more against my crotch, and the slight rubbing pulls me from my coma.

“Are you happy to have found your little sister?”

The question crossed the threshold of my numb lips without my brain giving it the order. Mel pouts.

“Yeah.”

I laugh.

“You cow! Hide your enthusiasm, honey.”

Mel gently shakes her blond hair, making me inhale its sweet fragrance with this very feminine gesture.

“That’s not it... I like it, she’s my sister. It’s just that...”

“What? She’s a pain in the ass?”

Yeah. f*****g pain in the ass clear to the world.

Mel smiles back and, just for a nanosecond, my eyes imagine a bunch of salacious stuff with her painted red lips.

“Sort of. Katherine has a strong sense of responsibility for her age and that’s seriously annoying. It was as if, since Mom was sick, she had decided that she was the head of the family and we, Julie and me, had to obey. You see?”

I frown.

“Without an adult in the house, someone gets stuck, right? I see her struggling to hold down several jobs to pay the bills.”

Mel moves back, stunned:

“Am I crazy or were you defending her, there? No kidding! Five minutes with her and you see her like a goddamn saint!”

I stop at the “You too.” With feigned nonchalance, I bring the neck of my beer bottle to my mouth, take a sip, and then scowl, but my interest is sharpened.

“You too?” I repeat strong enough to cover the infernal loud music, eyebrows arched, and avoiding eye contact with her.

“Yeah. Zach only has compliments for her: it gets annoying in the end!”

“I don’t know Zach,” I try with humour.

It works because she starts to giggle and explains after avoiding a drunken couple barrelling into us:

“My ex. We went out for a year before I broke it off. He sees her as a little sister, but I got sick of hearing him say: ‘You should be more like Kate,’ or, ‘Kate this, Kate that.’”

I don’t know why, but I’m relieved to learn that the famous Zach is just Mel’s ex and not the current boyfriend of crazy-spear and I don’t dwell on the issue.

“For once, you should put your ego crap aside and support your sister.”

Huh?

Mel stares at me, taken aback.

“Since when do you get involved in my business?”

I shrug. I have a jelly brain and my tongue is f*****g faster than it.

“It’s just an idea,” I mutter, annoyed. “She saw to your mother’s funeral by herself, I think she’s had a rough time. Show people a different side of you than that girl who spreads her legs as fast as Lucky Luke draws.”

She gives me a shove, to immediately jump away from my thighs, just missing knocking down a poor student with illuminated antler head-boppers.

“Hey!” I protest, trying to catch her by the waist.

Mel moves away and I’m too drunk to successfully bring her back on my lap.

“Dirty asshole! You just lost an opportunity to send mine in the air!” she spits, furious.

Something in her green eyes tells me that I hit the target. She has no malice, she’s the kind of woman-child too focused on herself to grasp that there’re more important things in this world.

I look away while emptying my beer when I feel the couch sag beside me.

“Hi,” whispers a warm voice.

My smile is back on my lips. I turn my head to see a pretty brunette, her t-shirt stretched under the pressure of a large chest.

“Hi,” I reply ogling her.

I love these student evenings.

It doesn’t take long for us to hit it off and quickly find a quieter place. I spend the next hour teaching her to spell my name over and over without any mistakes while I offer her several orgasms. I don’t know how such an idea came to me, but it was really good.