Chapter 23
Rated "M"
XXIII
I knew from the moment we got on the plane that Roxanne had not been the one to fix the boarding passes. No. If anything, she'd be the last person to change them into such an arrangement. Sitting next to me of all people in coach was not something she'd do willingly. And I knew that. More than I knew why she decided to make conversation with me to hide the fact that sitting next to her was more awkward than being hit on by her older sister. Even if the conversation was about none other than typical work."I talk to your sister yesterday." I said as Roxanne finished her verbal report on Mandrax, one of the most common drugs in South Africa. The plane had yet to move as the flight attendants checked each row for buckled passengers. Roxanne laughed at me as she turned her phone into "airplane mode."
"Ah. The devil's spawn, told by none other than the priest, though she wouldn't know that if it kicked her in the ass. What did she say, anyway?" She asked, crossing her legs as she placed her phone in her lap before reaching down to secure her purse under the seat in front of her.
I hadn't realized until that moment, that small amount of time that I could look at her without her knowledge, that one, she had a tattoo right behind her ear - a phrase in Arabic, or at least I thought that was the language, and two, she had five piercings on her right ear, all of which were a gold colored except for her main pair of earrings which were gold plated feathers with diamonds scattered aimless across them.
"Uh..." I said, taking my focus away from Roxanne's tattoo and piercings. "Just everything about you're childhood." I said simply, hoping that she wouldn't be as close-minded and cold as she had earlier that week.
"Great. Did she go into detail about how she's the perfect daughter and how everyone else, except for her and Duston, is just dust under a rug?" She asked, not looking at me as she took a glance out the window and then glanced at the mother on the other side of the isle with a screaming baby. I was quite surprised that her eyes didn't become freezing cold along with her posture or facial expression. But that might've just been because we were in a plane in public and it wasn't exactly appropriate in the setting.
"No. Should she have?"
"I haven't seen her in years, but I doubt she's changed much. She's still probably more self-centered than the devil himself."
"What does it mean?" I found myself asking as I looked back to the foreign tattoo on Roxanne's slightly pale skin. She turned to me with an eyebrow raised and I couldn't help but think how close we were physically. I could almost imagine why she didn't want to look at me. I was most likely too close for comfort.
"What?" Roxanne asked, her hand fiddling with her thin, white and gold watch, just like she had the night before at the party with that expensive-looking diamond bracelet.
"Uh... the tattoo... behind your ear..." I said and Roxanne looked away, her fingertips brushing the inked spot.
"Yeah... If the guy did it right it would say 'moon and stars,' but who knows, it could say 'fuck you.'" She shrugged and I began to notice that the plane was now getting ready for takeoff. Roxanne glanced outside the window.
"Why 'moon and stars?'" I said and she looked back at me briefly before clutching her phone in one hand.
"I was nineteen. It was New Orleans. I wanted to be an astronomer when I was younger, so I got it tattooed on behind my ear in a language that not many people in the country knows." She said simply and I felt my heart race at the thought of Roxanne talking to me about something other than work. She was opening up to me, slowly, unconsciously, and there was no way in hell I'd let myself compromise her willingness to talk to me in such a manner.
"Why behind your ear? Wouldn't that hurt more?" Roxanne took a breath and clutched the end of the armrest in between us with her free hand.
"I have no idea..." She muttered softly, but still loud enough for me to hear. I rose my brow at her statement.
"What do you mean you have no idea?"
"I... kind of was... extremely intoxicated, so I don't remember a damn thing from that night." She said and I could see her cringe slightly as the plane began to speed up for takeoff. Her knuckles were turning white as she clenched the armrest. I had a sudden urge to lay my hand over hers, but I made a fist with both of my hands to stop myself. I doubted highly that Roxanne would be so forthcoming after I indulged in such an action, and I didn't want to spoil that moment as Roxanne opened up to me.
"You... being drunk? Huh. And here I thought that you'd be the one making sure everyone else didn't get drunk." I said, recuperating from my previous thoughts. Roxanne didn't say anything as she leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes, biting her lip hard. I stared at the blonde confused and somehow worried.
"I wasn't the only one, obviously. How do you think I got alcohol at nineteen? Sure as hell wasn't bought by me." She said, still cringing.
"Are you okay? You don't look so good..." I muttered and she laughed.
"No one in this God damn plane would look good or feel good if they knew how many planes crash in a year. Or how many people die from planes in general." I couldn't help but laugh and Roxanne looked at me, eyes cold as she glared.
"That's you're fear? Planes?" I asked, smiling slightly. I knew it was inappropriate to laugh at Roxanne's fear, but to be honest I hadn't expected her of all people to be afraid of them. Just the way she acted didn't match up with her fear, but then again, she was completely hypothetical.
"Shut up, Sempers." Was the last things she said as the plane lifted off of the ground. My smile faded as Roxanne became quiet and her sudden mental openness began to fade. Maybe I was truly pathetic to feel so euphoric and blithe about Roxanne's sudden attitude change. Maybe I was mad for seeing such a way as the blonde had said something about herself. Maybe they were both true. But for that moment, all I could think about was how open she had been with me. As open as I had ever seen before. And it made my heart melt to see it.
"I don't want your money, Roxanne." I said as she handed me a wad of cash. She smirked at my statement.
"Thank God, since the only people who actually desire my money are strippers." I loosely rolled my eyes at her.
"I still don't want your money."
"It's for the rental car. Shut up and take it."
"Again, I don-"
"You don't want my money. I got it. Just take the cash. I have no use for it, anyway."
"You could buy a new pair of shoes with it." I said, glancing down at her beat up Converse. It was probably the most unprofessional pair of shoes she owned, and yet she seemed to prefer them at the airport. Well, so I thought based exclusively off the statement she had spoke when she had to take off then put back on the pulverized high-tops. She glanced down at her shoes and rolled her eyes as she continued to hold her hand out for me to take the cash.
"They may be old and worn out, but they still work. So take the God damn money, Sempers."
"Uh... no." I said and Roxanne glared at me.
"You're really a jackass."
"Just because I'm not taking your money, doesn't mean I'm a jackass, Roxanne."
"Would you like to me to call you something else, because I have a whole list of things I could call you. Pique, vexatious, galling, nettlesome..."
"I got it."
"Cockamamie." I rose a brow at Roxanne's word.
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Read a dictionary. Maybe it will help you..."
"Are you sure you're describing me and not yourself?" I asked, a smirk displaying on my face. Roxanne didn't make any facial expression as she spoke.
"If I was going to describe myself I'd use sedulous, conscientious, industrious, and assiduous."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Read a dictionary." She said with a smirk before she took a glance at her watch. Are you going to take the money or what?"
"Again. No." I said simply and another smirk crawled onto the blonde's face as she came closer to me. My heart raced as I barely felt the heat radiating from Roxanne's body.
"Fine." She said with a smirk as she slid the wad of cash in my jacket pocket. I swallowed as she looked up at me with her icy blue eyes that seemed warmer than usual. "I'd love to see what you do with the cash, but I have work to do." She said, the smirk still on her face as she took a step back and placed a hand on her suitcase. "I'll see you Monday..." She muttered before walking off to grab a taxi.
My mouth was dry, my heart was beating, and my body seemed colder when Roxanne walked away. I unfolded my arms and slid my hand into the pocket with Roxanne's money, counting it quickly and sighing as I put it back. Two hundred fifty dollars. All for a damn rental car. I couldn't decide if I was more confused that Roxanne was paying me back with enough money to cover more than half of the original fee cost or if the real problem was that she had that much money in her pocket, in cash.
I took a breath and swept my mind of the thought, my focus turning towards me getting back home to my dull apartment. I stepped into the street and raised my hand to get a ride home.
I threw the cash onto the counter as I unzipped my jacket, throwing it onto the back of a bar chair before opening the fridge to grab a beer. I was tired, but not in the way that required sleep. I was tired of being alone, not having anyone or anything to go home too. Maybe it was because I had been so wrapped up in Roxanne and her asinine emotions in Jackson that made me feel so lonely actually going back to my apartment without feeling the need to help and protect someone. Maybe that was it, the reason why I was feeling such a way when I was now back in the personal space of my own apartment.
I sat on the couch and turned on the TV, changing the channel every second to find something worth watching. Why did I feel this way? Why did I feel so alone? Why did I feel so... jealous of every other soul in the country right then? The better question was why did I feel so jealous of everyone when I knew I could have anything if I tried?
Zak had his French lover. I could be in his position in an instant. My mother and father had each other. I could find myself a wife anywhere, though I most likely find someone more than willing to commit in a familiar wing of a hospital (a.k.a. the morgue.), otherwise known as Summer Dwight.
I mean, why did I feel such a way then? So... depressed about my own life when I knew I could have the world if I wanted. Why, then? Why did I feel this way?
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, dropping the remote on the floor as I thought about no one but that blonde who I knew I should've ended up hating. Almost in que, my cell phone rang and I reached into my pocket to pull out my cell phone. My heart raced as I looked at the caller ID and answered it.
"Hello?" I answered, suddenly longing for Roxanne's conciliating voice. But the sounds over the phone weren't conciliating at all. It was the short, terrifying gasps of crying in the background.
"Uh..." Roxanne almost slurred through the phone. Her voice was raspy as she continued. "Sorry. Wrong number."
"Roxanne!" I said, sitting up, but I was too late as she hung up on me. My heart began to ache as I replayed the sound of Roxanne crying through the phone. Why was Roxanne crying? And why did I feel so perturbed about it?
Yes. It's a pretty boring chapter, but the next one will definitely make up for it. I hope... :/
As always, R&R!
✌lustfuleyes100
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