Page 12 of Something So Strong

Jumping forward at the intrusion of a hand sliding up my back, I’m tugged backward by the waistband of my khakis. “I can fit my arm in, so this is the size.”

Violated in a way I was unfamiliar with, I can’t help but be thankful that I’ll be behind a desk when I have to wear this.

And what the hell does the female uniform look like?

I bet it’s sexy secretary vibes with three buttons undone and a skirt that hugs all their curves. I mean, how could it not be provocative if this is what Kai and I have to wear?

Shit.

I bet he makes it look good, though.

You’d have to be able to see his tattoos through the white cotton. And goddamn, if his dick was that visible in his sweatpants what must it look like in the—

A firm hand slaps me on the backside. “I said you can get undressed now.”

My cheeks burn. “Oh, sorry.”

“Looks like your life will be no different here. You can’t even carry out a conversation with one past her used-by date,” Saxon pokes, whispering just loud enough for me to hear. Or so he thinks.

“Fuck you! Have you already forgotten your little run-in this morning? I’d say you’re off to a worse start than me.”

“Settle down, please, boys. And watch your language.”

Compelled to apologize, I swallow my words as my new best friend hurls a black polo shirt at Saxon’s chest.

“There, smart mouth. That’s yours. Black skinny jeans on the bottom. Judging by the looks of you, I’m sure you bought a few pairs.”

“Do you need to see if it fits?”

He touts a big game, but Saxon is just as needy as everyone else. His face still looks hard, but I can see in his eyes how hurt he is about being denied the hands-on experience. For everyone else, this would be a learning situation about watching what you say because words can hurt people, but for Saxon, it’s just another squirt of gasoline onto the ever-smoldering tire fire that burns in his chest where a heart should be.

“It’ll fit,” she replies sternly. “Now out, the pack of ya. It’s my lunchtime.” And with that, she disappears back through the blazers like she’d never been there in the first place.

Shaking my finger at Saxon for being a naughty boy, Romeo grabs him by the collar and drags him back out into the hallway and the non-floral polluted air.

“Damn, that felt like a bad one-night stand,” Romeo jokes.

“Yeah, and Sax is pissed cause he had to go home alone,” I smirk as he breaks free of Romeo’s grip and storms down the corridor. “Hey, dunce face. Where are you going in such a hurry?” I call out to him.

“I’m going to bed, you twat. And don’t bother me!”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Romeo and I both cackle in unison.

To most people, the reason we put up with Saxon is a complete mystery, and though I question it myself sometimes, there is no way I wouldn’t have him in my life. It may be fate that threw us together, but all I know is that he was dumped at Lancaster an hour after my parents left me there. They told me to stay in my dorm room and be strong because I needed to be a man. But I was eight and abandoned. I snuck back down to the foyer and waited, crouched in the corner, hoping they would change their mind and come back for me. By the time he arrived with his nanny, my tears had dried, but my face was still red. More boys came and parents left, and sometime later that afternoon a determined hand gripped my wrist and tugged me to stand. “You’re going to be my roommate,” he declared, dragging me to the administration office and commanding the situation like an adult. So I guess I owe him my sanity, or at least for the reason I still have hope that not everyone in the world is totally evil.

“Wanna chill for a bit?” I ask Romeo as we step out of housing unit C and take in the fresh air before continuing to our building.

“Na, I’m heading to the mountain.”

“Why? You don’t start till Monday?” I ask, falling into line with him.

“Unlike you, I’d like to be prepared for my job. How am I meant to teach people if I don’t have a feel for the slopes?”

I nod, going through the motions of pretending I’m taking his words in and formulating a plan for the remainder of the weekend that will have me prepared come Monday, but the reality is, other than doing squats in the khakis to stretch them out there is nothing I can prepare for. Alma provided no insight into the programs used and there is no way in hell I’m knocking on Kai’s door and risk finding him in less clothing than the last time our paths crossed. As it is, I can’t get the twin blue bird tattoos that cover his hip bones out of my head. Those damned sweatpants were so low I could see them completely, but the octopus that sat between them was half covered, its tentacles sprawling beneath the fabric like sirens teasing me towards the rocky shore…

Smoking is a filthy fucking habit. As if the health warnings aren’t bad enough, the smell lingers on your breath and clothes, making you a social pariah in the modern world. But… vaping is for douchebags.

Sucking in deeply, nicotine floods my lungs and deposits tar against their spongy surface, making sure to leave no cranny untainted. And I feel whole, filled to the brim with scum like a screwed up acclimation where my insides and outsides match. I hold in my breath just long enough for my head to fog before exhaling like I’m trying to blow Alma out of my life. Not because I hate her, but because it’s easier that way.

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