Strings Attached (14 page)

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Authors: Nick Nolan

BOOK: Strings Attached
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“I meant to drink.”

“No duh. I’ll be back in a sec.”

Jeremy watched as the expanding party spilled onto the sand below, while those inside yelled to one another over the thunder of the music. He saw how kids posed themselves like living sculptures, laughing while leaning or sitting on every surface within and outside the sleek house, drinks in hand, eyes scanning back and forth for masquerading friends and potential evening hookups. Then a flash of black caught his eye. It was Ellie, the exquisite hostess, flitting like an elegant wasp to a variety of Halloween flowers, her manner even more grandiose than usual.

So where was Reed?

At once he spotted her, outfitted in a red one-piece bathing suit and a frazzled blond wig. She giggled as she tried flipping a torpedo-shaped rescuer’s float in the air, TV lifeguard–style. Only she bounced it off the ceiling and hit a pirate on the head, causing him to drop his sandwich.

Jeremy figured he should approach her before Carlo returned, so he threaded himself through the crowd and tapped her on the shoulder. “Hi, Reed.”

Startled, she turned to face him as her pink-lipsticked mouth split into a huge smile. “Oh! Mr. Sailorman!” Reed pointed her index finger at her chin. “Has your ship run aground out in that big old dangerous bay, the former pristine waters polluted by corporate greed?” she feigned a look of panicked concern, flipping her blond wig back from her face and blinking drunkenly.

“Yes, Miss Lifeguard, and the boat’s filled with Chinese orphans that’ll drown if you don’t save them.”

“But I can’t save your ship, Mr. Sailorman, ’cause I’ve just broken up with my stunningly gorgeous boyfriend, and my recurring eating disorder has made me too weak to swim. But please don’t tell Mitch, or I’ll lose my job.”

“I won’t tell as long as you go out with me. By the way, what’s your name?” Jeremy reached out and touched her shoulder, feeling her buttery skin for the first time, the delicious warmth of her body.

“Tarzana,” she giggled hideously.

He laughed back, looking her up and down. “Honestly, Reed, you look great.”

“Yeah? Thanks. You too, and I’m not just saying that. That uniform fits you great! Was it your father’s?”

“Actually, I got this from our butler.” He loved saying “our butler.”

“As the saying goes, I love a man in uniform, so long as it’s not a McDonald’s. So where’s Carlo? I thought you were coming together.”

Jeremy blushed. “Yeah, he was my ride. Which reminds me, have you seen him? He’s the one dressed as Alexander the Great in the toga; he was supposed to be bringing back drinks.”

“Isn’t that the greatest military figure in history over there talking to that tore-up drag queen?” Jeremy turned to where she pointed and saw that Carlo was indeed listening to a babbling, platinum-wigged transvestite who lasciviously traced the muscles of his bared shoulder with her hand. Carlo glanced across the room at them and rolled his eyes. He still held a fresh drink in each hand.

“I think I need to execute a rescue,” declared Reed, grabbing her torpedo float and twirling it in the air, but once again missing the catch as it tumbled through her hands and bounced into the lap of a girl in a football uniform, splashing her drink. She apologized, then grabbed Jeremy’s hand and pulled him toward their friend. “You coming, Mr. Great?” she shouted as they whizzed by, her free hand snatching Carlo’s tunic as the drag queen’s mouth hung open mid-word.

They moved outside, where desert winds blew in circles like nosy ghosts, flapping costumes and blowing out candles in the jack-o’-lanterns strewn about the deck and sand. And the three leaned over the deck’s railing, watching a noisy game of strip volleyball on the sand below. They gabbed like old friends.

Jeremy learned that Reed’s mother was Swedish and her father Jamaican. They’d met while dancing for a music video in the early ’80s and lived now as a happy family of three at the northern end of Ballena Beach just south of County Line. Her parents had since made a small fortune selling real estate, and Reed’s professional ambition was to have her own advertising agency someday. He also learned that Carlo came from an extremely traditional Mexican-American family, living on what was left of the
rancho
that had been in his family since the 1840s. Up until recently, they had operated one of the last working ranches in Southern California, where they raised and trained Andalusian horses. Then his mother had taken ill, and his father had become a recluse, and they’d been forced to sell the last of the horses to settle their mother’s staggering medical bills, as well as the property’s gargantuan taxes. Sadly, their home was now in danger of being sold to one of the vulturous developers who’d been circling for years.

So Jeremy felt safe enough, finally, to disclose some details about his journey back to Ballena Beach, while leaving out the most sordid details of his mother’s affliction, as well as the filth in which he’d been raised. They expressed polite approval about her finally being in rehab and appropriate sorrow that his father had been dead for years. The pair nodded attentively and sympathetically as he spoke, making him feel, in his costume, like a war hero addressing reporters.

Then thoughts became romantic, so their conversation dwindled.

“What are you so deep in thought about?” Reed asked him, finally breaking the silence.

“I guess I was just wondering what time it is, or how much longer until I’ve got to get going.”

“Don’t worry, Cinderella,” Carlo giggled, grabbing his wrist. “It’s only a quarter past eleven, so you don’t have to worry about your carriage leaving for another hour.”

“Carlo, you need to tone that faggot shit down,” Jeremy snapped, yanking his hand away. “We all get that you’re gay, and that’s ‘fabulous’ and all, but
I’m not.

“Hmmm.” Carlo’s happy smile vanished. “I can tell it’s time for me to freshen my drink. If you need me, I’ll be hunting for other sodomites; they’re much more fun on Halloween than the Self-Righteously Insecure.” He turned and disappeared into the crowd.

“What was that all about?” Reed asked.

“I guess it was just that, well, I think Carlo has the wrong idea about me. I think he thinks I’m like him. You know, gay.”

“Well are you?” she asked.

“God, no.”

“Have you told him that?”

“Yep. The night he came over to study.”

“Then what’s the problem? Or didn’t you know that he kids around like that with everyone.”

“I just didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about me. That I don’t like girls.”

“I already figured that out,” Reed murmured, touching his hand. “But I wouldn’t mind being convinced.”

“Convinced?” he raised an eyebrow.

“You know. Prove it to me, so I can testify at your court martial.” She flicked the medals on his chest. Their eyes held.

“You mean like this?” He leaned in and pressed their lips together, then felt her mouth nudge his lips open and urge their tongues into a slippery game of tag. Jeremy was thrilled; he was finally having his first kiss, and he was enjoying it.

And the tingling between his legs told him he’d been right about her: she did, apparently, hold the puzzle’s missing piece.

Their mouths separated finally, and they hugged, but when their eyes met, she could see he was far away. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Oh, just that we should probably go inside. I feel bad about Carlo.”

Her expression clouded. “
That’s
what you were thinking?”

“Sure, I mean…no. I’m just kind of embarrassed to say.” He turned to survey the rolling waves. He couldn’t possibly tell her what he’d been thinking.

“You don’t have to tell me. It’s OK.”

“But I do…I mean…just a couple of weeks ago, my life was so different, and now here I am with someone like you, and what I mean is, I wouldn’t have ever thought someone like you could go for someone like me, I guess.”

“What, because I’m
black
?” Her voice dropped a notch.

“No! No.” He shook his head. “I mean, someone who’s…so beautiful and popular.”

“So you think I’m beautiful
and
popular?” she giggled. She stretched up on her toes and whispered into his ear. “Do you think, then, that I’m out of your league?” He felt her breasts press against his chest.

“Well, yeah. Sure.”

“Then come with me!” She grabbed his hand and led him from the balcony back into the house, where the party’s population now bulged in the hundreds. They pushed and pulled their way through toward the industrial-looking stairway at the far end of the living room, then climbed the stairs quickly. Once at the top, she led him down a hallway toward the bedrooms.

This was all going too fast. Ten minutes ago, he was enjoying his first kiss, and now they were scouting out bedrooms? His stomach knotted as they stopped in front of a closed door. She knocked.

“What!” It was Ellie.

“It’s me, bitch!”

“Go away, I’m busy.” Her voice sounded far away.

Reed pressed the side of her head against the door. “If that’s Coby in there with you, I’m gonna knock your brains in, girl.”

“It’s not, so go the fuck away!” Ellie’s giggling mixed with the muffled laughter of not one, but two male voices.

“Ugh, that filthy ho. Come on with me, Jeremy.” Reed pushed open a bathroom door. “And
please
don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not that kinda girl.” She batted her eyelashes and shot him an innocent smile.

The pair entered, and Reed switched on the light. Jeremy looked. They were standing in front of a generous mirror. It was the first time he’d seen himself as part of a couple with anyone other than his awful old mother.

“Do you see?” she asked.

“See what?”

“See us, you ’tard!” Reed grabbed him by the chin and pointed his face at the mirror. “Now, do you still think I’m out of your league? Look at yourself. You’re absolutely beautiful!”

“No, you’re the beautiful one.” He lowered his mouth again to hers, and this time their kiss was more passionate than before, more assured. As her arms slid around his back, he reached up and ran his hand through her hair, for the moment forgetting it was a wig. Their mouths opened wider to each other, and their tongues danced wildly. At once, Jeremy felt his genitalia tingle again, as if his naughty bits had been submerged suddenly in warmed-up soda pop.

A sharp knock on the door broke their moment.

“Ellie?” It was a deep male voice. Jeremy recognized it immediately. Reflexively, they released each other.

“What do you want, Coby? She’s not in here,” she said.

“I know she’s in there with you. I heard you telling her she’s beautiful…as if she doesn’t think so already.”

“Number one, you shouldn’t go listening at bathroom doors, and number two, it’s none of your business who I’m in here with, and number three, why do you care? Didn’t you drag that girly thing here with you?”

“Brynn’s downstairs.”

“Then what do you want with Ellie?” She stepped up closer to the door.

“It’s some business that we gotta finish, so just open the door and let me talk to her.”

Reed looked back at Jeremy, raising her eyebrows in a question. Jeremy nodded his head. She grasped the handle and swung the door open.

Coby was leaning his heavy shoulders casually against the wall opposite the bathroom doorway, his hands tucked casually into his back pockets and his hips thrust forward. He wore a baseball uniform so perfectly tailored to his body it could have been painted on, so tightly was the white-striped fabric stretched over the swells of his chest, crotch, and legs. The hallway’s overhead lighting illuminated his golden curls and shadowed the hollows of his cheekbones, and defined the square jaw and aristocratic nose that gave his young face such robust, masculine beauty.

His overwhelming magnificence startled Jeremy.

“Satisfied?” Reed snarled.

“You know, Reed, there’s no need for such hostility.” He nearly sang the words. “I was just looking for Ellie. Where is she?”

“Last time I saw her, she had a football player on each arm and didn’t want to be bothered, least of all by you.”

“Really? Well now you’ve gone and hurt my feelings,” he replied innocently, then turned his gaze toward Jeremy, easing his mouth into a crooked smile. “Hey,
Tyler.
” He held out his hand.

“Hey.” Jeremy took his hand and smiled back, thinking that since he’d been caught in the bathroom with a girl, he should feel like one of the guys. But the suggestiveness in Coby’s turquoise eyes shot down Jeremy’s fledgling heterosexual confidence and took him back to the memory of his shameful nighttime fantasy, which he’d successfully forgotten up until this very moment.

“That uniform looks really cool on you, Tyler. You must be a sailor, or something like that, huh?” Coby’s eyes seemed to linger over every inch of him, from head to toe and back again, while ignoring the fuming Reed.

“Actually, I’m dressed like a Marine. I got this from our butler.”

“Wow, your
butler
…” His eyebrows arched. “It looks cool on him, doesn’t it, Reed?”

“Better than that tired baseball uniform, Coby. What is that from, like, eighth grade or something?” She rolled her eyes.

“He can’t help it if he keeps growing more muscles,” came a shrill voice from in back of the three. A big-chested, chestnut-haired girl ascended the top of the stairs wearing a scantily cut French maid’s uniform. “I think he’s the best-looking man here, by far.” She turned and looked down her nose at Jeremy. “No offense, whoever you are.”

“None taken,” Jeremy replied.

“Hello, Brynn. How
pretty
you look tonight,” Reed sneered.

The bedroom door behind them flew open. Ellie emerged wide-eyed and disheveled. She gave Brynn’s costume the once-over. “Thank God the cleanup crew’s finally here,” she announced breathlessly. “There’s a pile of dishes in the sink, and I think we ran out of clean glasses over an hour ago.”

“Uh-oh,” Reed whispered.

“And what are you supposed to be, Ellie?” Brynn asked cheerfully as two guilty-faced boys sidled from the bedroom past the group and down the stairs. “The village slut? Oh, I forgot. You wouldn’t need a costume…”

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