Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted

Brooke
& Ben

Before
Fate Interrupted

by

Kaitlyn
Cross

Brooke
& Ben

Before
Fate Interrupted

Copyright
© 2013 by Kaitlyn Cross

Cover
design by AMDesign Studios

Chapter
One

They had
twenty-five minutes to spare before the party began. Platters of cupcakes – decorated
as skeletons, black widows, and cemetery plots – competed for table space with
trays of cookies shaped like zombie fingers, ghosts, and grinning pumpkins.
Candlelight flickered off the eyeball cake pops filling the space between coffin
brownies and mummy dogs.

Mandy surveyed
the impressive spread with her hands on her hips, her long dark hair freshly
curled and ready for action. “You have to open your own bakery someday!”

Brooke’s stomach
rumbled, reminding her of its neglect. “Yeah right.” She snatched a chicken
salad sandwich - the bread molded with a pumpkin cookie cutter – and bit down.

“No, I mean it.”
Mandy’s eyes traveled from one end of the dining room table to the other. “This
is so beautiful, and would’ve cost a fortune from Mrs. Randall.”

Brooke finished
the small sandwich off with another eager bite. With everything that had to be
done for tonight’s party, eating had been restricted to sporadic taste testing
at best.

Mandy picked up
a yellow and orange cupcake, whipped cream coiling around its top like an
albino snake, her nerves actually taking a moment to stop fraying around the
edges. “This looks just like candy corn.” A smile stretched into her milky cheeks.
“I am telling you, you have to open your own bakery and that’s all there is to
it.”

Brooke dabbed at
the corners of her mouth with a purple napkin. “I wish! That would be a dream come
true.”

“It’s your
gift!”

Brooke reached
into a ceramic bowl (a green hand reaching from its center) and pulled some
M&Ms from the sea of black and orange swirling inside. “I thought my
sparkling personality was my gift.”

“I’m serious,
Brooke. Everyone has a responsibility to find their gift in life and share it
with the world.” Mandy set the cupcake back with the others, careful not to let
her red cape get in the food.

“So your
gift
is managing the makeup counter at
Younkers?”

“Hey, those old
bitches love me. I keep their sex life active long past sixty.”

Brooke laughed
and started choking, the image of wrinkly skin slapping against hairy moles briefly
quelling her whiney stomach.

“And don’t try
changing the subject. We’re talking about you now. Do you want to work for a catering
company for the rest of your life?”

Brooke inhaled a
deep breath of the Witches’ Brew candle permeating the air around them, an
inferiority complex rising inside her like the dead. The pay wasn’t anything to
brag about and the clients were – for the most part - nice, but she loved
getting her hands dirty. Making the desserts for Randall’s Catering was her favorite
part, and big parties always wanted dessert. Always.

“It’s fine for
now.” She gazed across the lavish spread, allowing herself a few seconds to
indulge the notion. Owning her own bakery felt right in her gut, and her gut
was never wrong. Unfortunately, her gut was just as broke as she was. “
You
better eat something because this
stuff will probably be gone in sixty seconds.”

Mandy released a
pent-up breath and smoothed the red skirt showing off her toned legs. “I’m too
nervous to eat.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,
first party in a new house.” She sighed. “I just want tonight to be perfect.”

Brooke arched an
eyebrow. “Oh, my God, you’re going to sleep with Ken tonight, aren’t you?”

Mandy cocked her
head to one side, a deep frown leaving shadowy creases in her forehead. “No,
I’m not. And his name is
Ben
, not Ken.”

Brooke tried
stifling a laugh. “Wow, you are such a whore, Mandy.”

“If I’m a whore
then what’s that make you?” Mandy looked away, her cheeks suddenly matching the
shade of her hooded cape.

Brooke pursed
her lips. She had first met Mandy three years ago after landing a job at Randall’s
Catering and was still in awe of Mandy’s virtuous resolve to this day. But that
didn’t stop Brooke from a little teasing once in awhile. “Mandy,” she said,
taking her hand. “Sooner or later you’re going to have to bite the bullet and
give it up. Everyone’s doing it.”

Mandy yanked her
hand back and grabbed a large bag of condoms. “Maybe I should borrow your
bulletproof bracelets.”

Brooke watched
her fill a wicker basket with the condoms that – when unrolled - would turn a
man’s stiffie into a white-sheeted ghost with black dotted eyes. “In other
words you’re going to wait until you’re married.”

“I didn’t say
that.”

“You didn’t have
to, but I’m telling you right here and now the biggest mistake you can make is
buying a car without taking it for a test-drive first. You want a smooth ride,
but not too smooth.”

Mandy bit back an
impish grin and threw the empty bag away.

Brooke furrowed
her brow, making her golden headpiece go crooked. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That look just
now.”

Mandy scooped a
ladle full of their homemade punch into a plastic cup. “Nothing.”

“No, come on.
Now, you have to tell me. You’ve made way too big a deal out of it.”

“You mean
you
did.” She offered the cup to Brooke,
who politely declined.

“Just tell me.”

She turned to
face Brooke and for a moment the issue was in doubt. “If you must know, I gave
him a hand job last night.”

Brooke clapped a
hand over her red corset and inhaled sharply. “Oh honey, that is wonderful
news! I’m so proud of you.”

Mandy rolled her
eyes and strutted away, her cape whisking through the air behind her. “You’re
such a smartass. You really are your daddy’s girl.”

Brooke followed
her into the living room, thigh-high boots clacking against the hardwood, magic
lasso bouncing against her hip. “It’s all about baby steps, girl. Start out
with a hand job and slowly work your way up to the wheelbarrow.”

Mandy stopped
and turned, her face wrinkling in the soft light. “The what?”

Brooke shook her
head. “Never mind, you’re not ready for that yet.”

Mandy returned
her attention to the living room where fake cobwebs ran from the ceiling fan to
the olive-colored walls like hairy spider legs. A banner wishing everyone a
Happy Halloween hung over a fireplace flanked by plastic tombstones and carved
out pumpkins.

Mandy’s chest
deflated as a weary breath escaped her. “We should’ve gotten the balloons.”

“It looks
incredible.”

The fireplace
popped when a log settled into a new position, sending burning embers rising up
the chimney.

“You don’t think
it looks cheap?”

Brooke’s gaze
roamed the modest living room, snagging on a zombie they handcrafted from a
mannequin Mandy had
borrowed
from
work. It looked scary as hell but Brooke doubted the fake blood and cracked
skin would heal in time by Monday morning. “For a hundred bucks, it looks
amazing.” She looked down and stuck out an Angelina Jolie leg. “Besides, with
these costumes, who’s going to be paying attention to the decorations?”

Mandy laughed, her
eyes scanning the tight Wonder Woman costume accentuating Brooke’s curvy hips.
“Especially the way your boobs are popping out of that corset.”

“Oh, you’re one
to talk!” Brooke stuffed her assets back inside. “Can that skirt be any
shorter?”

“Yeah well, this
Little Red Riding Hood has some gym legs to show off.” She turned one foot on
the tip of a black high heel. “We all have to use the gifts God gave us.”

Brooke took
Mandy’s hand and pulled her roommate’s attention back to her. “You know I was
just kidding, right? Don’t do anything you’re not ready to do. You’ve held out
this long, so make sure it’s right and I doubt tonight is the right night. You
hardly even know this guy.”

Mandy’s blue eyes
turned soft. “I know, but this guy is sooo fucking hot. And you know me, tats aren’t
my thing but this guy is…
different
. I
really want him to be my first. It feels so right.”

“Give it some
more time, Mandy. Just to be sure.”

Mandy stared
blankly out a sliding glass door that led to the patio out back. “He could be
the chosen one.”

Brooke tilted
her head. “Come on, really?”

“My parents
would disown me when they saw his sleeves of tats, but that cock!”

Brooke’s eyelids
flipped back like roller shades in her head. “What?”

“It’s so big!”

Brooke swallowed
dryly. “Seriously?”

Mandy pressed a
finger to her lips and began pacing the living room, her red cape trailing through
the air behind her. “I don’t think I could ever have sex with him. It would
hurt too much.”

“Ooh, I want
details,” Brooke said, resting her hands on her hips and looking every part the
super hero.

Mandy stopped
wearing out the floor. “Brooke, you should have seen my face when I pulled it
out of his jeans. I about had a heart attack.” She paused to tighten her gaze.
“Are all penises that big?”

Brooke shook her
head like someone had just rung her bell. “Wait a minute, just how big are we
talking here?”

“Big like fire
hose big. But with tats on it.”

A sharp breath
stormed Brooke’s lungs, making a high-pitched squeal and puffing out her
already puffy chest. “Shut! Up!”

“I’m dead
serious. It’s the craziest damn thing I’ve ever seen. A tattooed peter!”

Brooke looked around
the room at a complete loss for words, a rarity in her world. “Why didn’t you
tell me this earlier?”

“Because I had
to focus on getting this party straight or else I was going to be sitting
around thinking about the anaconda hiding in his pants.” She met Brooke’s stunned
eyes. Her face turned grave. “This thing could eat small pets.”

Brooke set a
hand on her chest, trying to catch her breath. “Maybe you need an invisible
fence.”

“Plus, I just
kind of want to get it over with, you know what I mean?”

Brooke wrinkled
her nose. “Get it over with? Sweetie, there’s no rush. Trust me.”

Mandy laughed sharply.
“Easy for you to say! I’ll be twenty-four in January.”

“Mandy, this
isn’t
Little House on the Prairie
.
People don’t get married and have kids right out of high school anymore, or
even college. You don’t have to feel that kind of traditional pressure.”

Mandy took a
deep breath and released it, her gaze returning to the Party City decorations.
“Well, I guess this place is about as good as it’s going to get.” She checked a
large wall clock hanging above the couch and headed back into the dining room.
“I almost forgot!” She took a marble sized rock from a small bag, dropped it
into the punch bowl and stepped back. They watched smoky trails creep from the
spiked brew and ooze over the glass rim like ghostly tentacles on a moonlit
night.

“That is so cool.”

“And the best
part,” Mandy started, scooping a ladleful into a plastic cup and knocking it
back, “is the dry ice doesn’t alter the taste.”

“You better be
careful, girl, or you’re going to pass out before anyone even gets here.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You haven’t
eaten all day.”

“I had some
grapes.” She scooped out another cup.

“You better eat
something while you’ve got the chance because I’m not holding your hair while
you throw up Spiderlicious punch all night long. I know how you get.”

A loud knock at
the front door made both of them scream in unison. There was a brief pause
before the hammering grew louder, more urgent, unwilling to let them collect
their breath.

“Hang on!” Mandy
dropped the ladle back into the fog and clicked her heels across the floor.

The banging
continued, uninspired by Mandy’s reassurance, rattling the skeleton’s bones dangling
from the arched front door. She grabbed the glass doorknob and whipped the door
back with Brooke peering over her shoulder. Their jaws hit the floor at roughly
the same time.

“They’re all
dead,” the girl whispered coldly. Her teeth chattered in the pale orange porch
light. A jagged rip ran across her blood spattered tank top, exposing the
soiled bra beneath. Tears carved dark paths down her cheeks, mixing with the
grime and blood smeared across her twisted face. She held out her hands, bound at
the wrists by a thick rope caked in grease and dirt. “Please.” Her pleading
eyes flickered from Mandy to Brooke. “Untie me.” She looked over her shoulder
into the night. “Before he comes back.”

Mandy yanked the
girl inside by the rope, slammed the door shut and locked it.