Authors: Deena Bright
Briggs pushed my hair back, and stroked my cheek with his finger, “I understand; I’m not holding you to anything. I’ll take all the time I can get, with or without sex.” He kissed my cheek and snuggled into my neck. Comforted, I suddenly felt very tired and fell asleep quickly. I had a fitful night of dreams, tossing and turning.
In one dream, I dreamt that I was Robert Frost and each road I took led me to Vince, but it wasn’t really Vince. He transformed into a rabid angry dog that wouldn’t let me go down the road. I was terrified and tried to run back, but there were two more forks in the road. I chose a path and rabid, Vince-dog was there again. I woke up in a sweat, shaking. Briggs was wrapped tightly around me, sound asleep. I relished his protection and went back to sleep.
In another dream, I was in my classroom teaching, when a masked gunman entered the room and told me that I had to choose one student, just one, and he was going to shoot him. I told the gunman to choose me, but he said that it had to be a student, only one student. If I didn’t choose, then he was going to kill all of my students and then kill me. So, I chose a small, quiet boy in the back of the room. Right before the gunman shot the little boy, he took off his mask. It was Vince. The last thing I heard or saw was the boy screaming. I woke up screaming, soaked in sweat. Briggs held me, attempting to console me. My heart was racing; I was terrified. Briggs got up to get water for me, but I pulled him back to bed. I was too frightened to be left alone.
Briggs stayed awake, rubbing my back until I fell back to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone. He’d collected all the flowers and put them on the counter. He left me a note that said:
You were finally sleeping good, so I didn’t wake you. Talk later
.
I immediately texted him and thanked him for staying the night and taking care of me. I also thanked him for not destroying my flowers. I typed a smiley face, hoping he wouldn’t get mad. Then, I group texted him and Char, reminding them of their 6:00 date. Since it was a group text, Char took the opportunity to make me laugh, attaching a picture of three people in an inexplicable sex act. She asked if I wanted to make it a three-way? I graciously declined but told them both that I wanted details, explicit details. Briggs texted us both and said that he would bite the bullet and stop by later to show me everything he was planning with Char. He also asked Char if she could get that picture blown up and bring it to him later that night. She was offended and told him that he didn’t need a visual to get turned on, she’d handle it expertly on her own. I knew Char was just being funny, her usual vulgar and flirtatious self, but that last text sent a twinge of jealousy through me. I knew I wasn’t being rational or fair, but I knew that forcing Briggs to realize that this wasn’t a real connection would be the only way I could continue this casual sex thing.
Jocelyn and I met for breakfast. Being the perfect big sister, she had printouts of stories of women who married their former students. School districts had tried to fire these teachers, but they couldn’t find anything in their teaching contracts that would justify grounds for termination. Apparently, there is nothing unethical about beginning a relationship with a former student, as long as he/she was no longer a student and was over the age of 18. Jocelyn was perfectly at ease with the whole situation, completely convinced that my job was not on the line. However, she knew that it would take some time for my reputation to recover from this slander. I hated that my name was being dragged through the mud by a student, a creepy-ass student, who had manhandled me and threatened me in my own driveway. Why was that allowed?
Joz and I went shopping, and she sensed that there was something else on my mind. Finally, I caved and told her about Char’s date with Briggs. She looked at me with disgust and annoyance, and said, “You’re the dumbest person on the whole freaking planet.”
When I asked her why and what made her say so, she simply said, “I can’t even talk to you; you’re so stupid.” She knew everything about Briggs and Leo, well mostly everything. Some things were not meant for Jocelyn’s prude-like ears. She wouldn’t talk to me anymore about either of them once I told her about Char and Briggs. Wouldn’t hear of it.
Rick met Jocelyn and me at the poolhouse with the kids; they were all staying to swim and cookout. Jasper brought hamburgers down to grill. It was nice to spend the day with my family. Nobody spoke of the Tweet or Facebook post. We had a nice family day, swimming and playing in the water. Kids could really take your mind off things; you didn’t have time to dwell and feel sorry for yourself. They could really keep you distracted.
Just as the burgers were ready, the girls squealed and ran to the pool’s gate. Leo stopped by. Each girl had a hold of his hand, dragging him to the pool deck. He smiled at everyone and said, “I’m sorry; I didn’t know you were having a cookout today.” He looked apologetic and tried to tell the girls that he couldn’t stay.
Jasper told him to grab a beer and a burger, and hang out for a bit. Leo tried to decline, but Jocelyn was already handing him a plate with a burger, chips, and macaroni salad piled high on it at the same time Rick cracked him open a beer. Leo smiled, and thanked them, mouthing, “I’m sorry” to me. I laughed, and said, “No, I’m sorry; you’ll see.”
We spent the entire afternoon talking, drinking, and playing in the pool. Leo fit in well with my family, too well. It was almost as if he’d always been there, been a part of us. At one point, my niece, Kara, called him “Uncle Leo.” When he explained that he was just a friend, they told him that he was more fun and more of an “uncle” than Jasper. Jasper gave them each fifty bucks to never say that again. Rich and happy, the girls plunged back into the pool, ruining their brothers’ game of water basketball. My nephews convinced their dad, Jasper, and Leo to play basketball with them; the girls pretended to be cheerleaders, jumping off the diving board and sidewall whenever anyone scored. Joz and I sat with our feet in the water, on the steps, talking.
“I don’t envy you,” she said honestly.
“About what? Marcus? My job? What?” I asked, knowing it could be an infinite number of possibilities at this point.
Slapping me, she said, “You know what. Having to choose one.” Our legs were getting hot, she splashed water onto our thighs. “I don’t know how you’re gonna do it. “
“I’m not; we’re just having fun. I made that clear from the start,” I explained, trying to convince her, and maybe myself too.
She gave me her infamous “all-knowing Jocelyn” look, and said, “We’ll see.”
It took Rick and Jocelyn what seemed like an eternity to round up all their kids. Every time they’d get one out of the water and drying off, another would jump back into the pool. It was hilarious watching the fiasco that was now my sister’s life, a fiasco that she loved and couldn’t imagine any other way. Once they finally left, Leo told Jasper that we’d clean up and put all the recreational toys away. Jasper was out the gate, before Leo could say it twice or thank him for the burgers. Jasper loved to escape routine household chores.
“Let’s swim for a little bit,” he said, taking my hand and leading me toward the pool. I was hot and feeling a little sticky from sitting in the sun so long with Joz; I didn’t protest at all. I loved the water. I didn’t swim much when Joz was around; she wasn’t a big fan. I swam under the water, coming up closer than I intended to Leo, but not regretting it at all.
Smiling, I put my hair back, off my face, and looked at him. He was so cute, so freaking adorable. No other word could accurately describe him. He was adorable. His dimples just softened the mood, made people happier when he was around. “Janelle, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me hungrily, running his wet hands down my soaked arms. He lifted me up, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. Kissing in the water was so sensual, so romantic. He thumb glided over my nipple; it hardened at his touch. Leo slid his hand into my the top of my bikini, making me hot, hot in the wet, cold water. No, I couldn’t do this stuff; we’d already spent the day as a couple almost. Making out and fooling around in the water was just too, too intimate, especially because I loved it so much.
“Whoa…whoa…alright buddy,” I stopped him, feeling guilty since his erection was already probing at the material of my bikini bottoms. “I think your hormones are a little out of whack.” I said, laughing, turning everything into a joke. I didn’t want to get into an argument about who was feeling what and what those feelings were. I just wanted to have fun and forget about Vince and his attempt to ruin my marriage and my career. Oh yea, and forget about my Hellish marriage that I was about to end.
“Hormones? I doubt that; I know beautiful when I see it.” He said, kissing me lightly on the lips, lingering only for a second. “But if you just wanna swim, I can respect that.” Why did his little statements like that turn me on so much? He was so agreeable, so easy to be around. I did want him, wanted him badly. Actually, I wanted him to take me right there on the steps, but I felt too guilty sleeping with him again, right after the posts. And with Briggs out with Char. I couldn’t have sex with Leo when I forced Briggs to sleep with someone else. Could I? Shit. I didn’t know the rules to this “playing the field” or “whoring around business.” Basically, I kept turning the tables and changing the rules to my own game. How could anyone win when nobody really knew the rules? All I knew was that when one was around, all I wanted to do was rip off his clothes and have my way with him, and unfortunately, it didn’t really matter which one it was. I wanted them equally.
Leo and I continued to swim and play around in the pool for a while, kissing and caressing at a minimum. But yeah, a little couldn’t hurt, right? He asked if he could take me to dinner the next night, but I told him that I didn’t think that was such a good idea with everything going on. He understood. I hated when it seemed like I disappointed him. But I was disappointing him. Disappointing myself too. I couldn’t understand why if I wanted something, someone, I couldn’t just have him, or them. Granted, technically, I was still married. But that marriage meant squat to me now.
After Leo left, I decided that I would turn in early, get a good night’s sleep and just forget about everything. It was 7:30 on a Saturday night in the summer, and I was going to bed. It was pretty evident that my life was in shambles. Just as I had gotten into a pair of old sports shorts and a t-shirt, my phone dinged. It was a text from Char. She was supposed to be at Briggs’ at 6:00. Were they already done?
Reluctantly, with my hand shaking, I opened the message. It was a picture of Char sitting on Briggs’ lap that said:
Just got here. Nice place. Let the good times roll.
All at once, my stomach fell and my heart ached. Fuck. They were really gonna do this. I had set this up, so I couldn’t be upset. I taught Briggs all the tricks that he’d need to make her happy, satiated, and feel so incredibly wonderful. This would be great, great for both of them. My Char and my….my….Fuck! No way! Over my goddamn dead body.
I grabbed my keys, ran out the door, and jumped in my car. Briggs’ address was listed on his Facebook page, but I was blocked. We weren’t even friends on Facebook. What the Hell was I doing? I was freaking out about Briggs sleeping with my best friend, and we weren’t even social network friends. What the heck! Who does that? But, I couldn’t let it happen. Briggs could not sleep with Char. He was mine; she couldn’t have him. Briggs better not touch her; Char had better not get within one foot of him…. Holy Hell, what have I done? I called Sarah and asked her to look it up for me and text me with it. Asking no questions, she said, “No problem,” and hung up.
I knew what area of the city he lived in, so I drove in that direction, hoping Sarah’s text would come soon. Finally, the phone dinged, and I had his address. He lived closer than I thought; I was only five minutes away. Hopefully not five minutes too late. Oh God Char, don’t do it! I decided to call her. No answer. Fuck. I swallowed my pride and called Briggs. No answer either. I knew I was being irrational, but I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t allow them to….Oh God. What had I done? Did this mean that I wanted more with Briggs, wanted him? Hell, I didn’t know what it meant; I just knew that I didn’t want them to fuck for whatever reason I had given them in the first place.
Arriving at his apartment complex, I saw Char’s car; my stomach lurched. I forced them into this. She was going to screw Briggs Alexander, because she was my best friend, and I had asked her to do so. Briggs would sleep with Char, because she was, well Char, and I had asked him to. They were doing this for me. I ran up the steps to his apartment; I put my ear to the door. “Take that, bitch!” was what I heard before I swung the door open, causing each of them to jump a foot out of their chairs.
There they were, my best friend and my lover, sitting in separate black leather recliners, remotes in hand, playing Madden 13. Apparently, Briggs was winning, but not by much. Char smiled when she saw me, my face reddening more and more by the second. She stood up, handed me the remote, and said, “What took you so long?”
Not understanding, I looked from her to him, trying to figure everything out. Char walked over to Briggs, kissed his head lightly and said, “I told ya so; good luck, buddy,” and walked out the door, patting me on the back as she went.
Briggs got up, turned off his TV, walked over, and picked me up, kissing me deeply. Walking with me in his arms, Briggs never broke the kiss. It was sensual and erotic. As he finally laid me down on his bed, he said, “I’d never sleep with your best friend, Janelle. I can’t sleep with anyone else. You’re all I want.” He climbed on top of me, kissing me with purpose.
Pushing him off, I said, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He sat back, stunned, hurt.
“What? I’m sorry, I just can’t…” He stammered.
Cutting him off, I said, “A fucking waterbed Briggs? Seriously? Are you a pimp from 1985?” I asked laughing and pulling him back on top of me as we sunk into the squishy, wavy bed.