Idle Bloom

Chapter Seven Moving On

Vivian

Oliver deserves the biggest prick award. What guy doesn’t want to be a girl’s first? Claim her. Plant his flag. Make his mark. Maybe he’s just selfish and assumes I won’t be good in bed, that I won’t be able to satisfy him. I put him too high on a pedestal way too quick.

My poor mom thought I was still depressed about the accident and my dad—typical guy—assumed I was PMSing when I sulked around their house for two days. I’ve felt hurt then angry then back to hurt again, finally settling on pissed, bitchy, and out for redemption. Oliver made me believe for a moment, a small moment, that I could be with a man someday. He reminded me that beauty is not skin deep. Then he made it clear that sexual experience matters.

So just like getting an unsightly mole removed, I’m going to get rid of my virginity. It’s so overrated. It’s not like I feel special still having mine. I can’t put it on a résumé or anything like that. The first time will be a stick, a pinch, and a burn just like getting my ears pierced or a shot at the doctor’s office. I didn’t make a big deal out of getting my ears pierced. It’s not as if the specialist who put two holes in my ears sends me Christmas and birthday cards. Heck, I don’t know if she ever even told me her name.

As always, Kai is letting me stay with him until Alex’s parents leave. And, as always, I’ve been invited to dinner with Alex and her parents at the place I call home ninety percent of the time. The timing is good. I need to grab another change of clothes to get me through the rest of the week.

“Do you have your key?” Kai questions as I get ready to leave.

“They’re going to be there, why do I need my key?”

“No, to your bedroom.”

I always lock my bedroom door before Alex’s parents come to visit. She told them that she’s taking up painting but not ready to share her masterpieces with the world. The crazy part? They believe her.

“Thanks, and yes, I have my key.”

“Well, you know where I’ll be.” He sighs.

I don’t even acknowledge him before closing the door behind me. Kate is coming home in a week and Kai promised he’d repaint the living room while she’s gone because she can’t handle the fumes. He’s just now taping everything off. The downside will be Kate reaming his ass because she’ll still smell it and know that he waited until the last minute to do it. The upside is Kai has something to do that doesn’t require me entertaining him.

It’s only a mile to our place from Kai’s. I’ve walked it so many times over the past two years I think I could do it blindfolded. The first thing that I notice is Alex’s parents’ black SUV parked by the curb with its New York license plates. Then I notice my neighbor walking in the opposite direction toward his place. He’s still dressed in his work clothes so I imagine he’s just gotten off the subway train. When he spots me I make a quick diversion with my eyes praying he doesn’t say anything before I can hurry into the house.

“Vivian?”

Too late!

Keeping my eyes to the sidewalk I give a quick wave.

“Vivian, wait!”

Out of the corner of my eye I see him heading across the street. Taking a courageous breath, I stop and look up at him, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Yes, neighbor?” Smiles don’t get any more fake than mine.

He sighs. “Listen, I’m sorry about the text. It was pretty shitty of me to not just call you or tell you in person. I just—”

I hold up my hand. “Save it. It’s fine. I’m fine. Whatever.” I brush past him.

“Vivian, wait!”

I stop, keeping my back to him.

“Did you really ask my brother out this weekend?”

“Does it matter?”

“I think so, since he has the impression you’re looking for a one-night stand.”

“Does it matter?”

“Jesus, Vivian! He’s just going to use you.”

I whip around. “No, I’m using him.”

Oliver plants his fists on his hips. “To make me jealous?”

Shaking my head I laugh. “Get over yourself.” I walk up the steps to the front door and look back. “Besides, Chance is closer to my age. He’ll have more stamina to keep up with me when I ride him like it’s the Kentucky Derby.” I knock on the red door and just as it opens I throw him one last smile. “Later, neighbor.”

I’m not sure if the look on his face is horror or shock, but either way, I feel the bittersweet satisfaction.

“Viv!” Alex’s mom greets me with open arms as I step in and shut the door.

“Annabelle, nice to see you. Mmm, something smells good and I know it’s not Alex’s cooking.”

Annabelle smiles. “You’re right, it’s not Alex’s cooking but not because she doesn’t know how. Don’t let her make you think I didn’t teach her how to cook.”

“Is that so …” I glare at Alex as she watches TV with her dad.

“For the record. I never told you I can’t cook, I said I don’t cook.”

“Hey, Viv.” Her dad smiles.

“Hi, Mark. What’s the score?”

He grunts. “Zero-three.”

Alex scoots closer to him, nudging his arm. “You mean zero your team, three mine.”

“Watch it, young lady, or I’ll have your butt transferred back to where you remember what it means to be a Yankees fan.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Alex hops off the couch. “So I finally got to meet the older Konrad brother today. They were picking up some shrubs and holy moly, how did I not know he’s our … uh, I mean, my neighbor?” She makes a quick recovery. Luckily her mom is enthralled with dinner preparations and her dad is drowning in the misery of his team falling behind in the always heated rivalry.

“I’m not sure, but he’s no longer on my radar.”

Alex hoists herself up on the counter and starts picking at the colorful salad her mom’s making. Annabelle smacks her hand away. Alex pops a cherry tomato in her mouth and smirks.

“So spill, what happened?”

I hold up two fingers to make a V.

“Seriously? That’s a problem?”

I shrug. “Apparently.”

“What’s a problem?” Annabelle asks.

Both of our eyes widen and Alex giggles. “Nothing, there’s this guy that Flower likes but he’s being weird about her … height.”

I roll my eyes.

“Viv, you’re a beautiful young woman. I’d love to have your long legs, sweetie. I’m sure you just intimidate him, which means he’s not the one for you.”

Alex nods. “Yes, he’s just intimidated by your height. Those long legs of yours and the way they form a perfect V.” She giggles some more.

Annabelle smacks Alex’s butt. “Why are you acting so goofy today? Hop off and set the table.”

Alex hops down and we both carry the plates and silverware into the dining room.

“He really dumped you because you’re a virgin?” she whispers.

“Dumped is a little extreme, but yes, he decided we should be neighbors or friends because of the age difference and him not having what I want. Which is total code for I’m a virgin, especially given the fact it was the last conversation we had before he decided to … well, yes, dump me.”

“Ahem.” Annabelle clears her throat as she and Mark stand a few feet behind us with their hands full of serving dishes.

Great! The knowledge of my virginity just keeps spreading like a virus. I need to get rid of it before it goes any further.

“You asked Chance out?” Alex’s screech bounces off the walls of my bedroom as I gather some spare clothes.

“That’s what I said.” I laugh.

“Yeah, but … why? Is it to make Oliver jealous?”

“No, definitely not that.” I plop on my bed. “If I tell you, can you keep it to yourself?”

“Of course. You know me.” Alex flips her hair back like my question is ridiculous.

“Sure I can. That’s why Sean knows everything I’ve ever told you.”

“Not everything.”

“Mmm hmm, whatever.” I grimace as I take in a deep breath. “I’m just using Chance to lose my virginity.”

“What? Flower, are you serious?” Alex sits down next to me.

I nod. “I’m not doing it to get Oliver back. Obviously if that were the case I wouldn’t choose his brother. It’s just that Oliver made me believe that maybe I’m not destined to be an eternal virgin, and if that’s the case I want to know that when the right guy comes along I’m not dealing with this virgin issue again.”

Alex giggles. “I love the way you’re referring to it as the ‘virgin issue,’ like a yeast infection or something.”

“Well, if you would have seen the way Oliver looked at me when I told him, it might as well have been a yeast infection or an STD for that matter.”

“Are you sure Chance is the best choice? I didn’t think you were interested.”

“I’m not. That’s what makes him ideal. He’s a total player and one-night stands are his specialty. He’s good looking and relatively nice, even if his kindness is often misplaced as inappropriate advances.”

Alex picks at her bottom lip. “But … don’t you want your first time to be special?”

“Was yours?”

She shrugs. “No, but …”

“But what?”

“I don’t know.” She laughs. “I just said it because I thought it was the right thing to say. You know, like talking someone off the edge of a cliff.”

I chuckle. “Thanks, but I’m twenty-one, not fifteen.”

“Does he know?”

“Chance?”

Alex nods.

“I don’t think so. Not unless Oliver told him. I just asked him out and basically alluded to the fact that he was going to get laid and it would be a one-time deal. I didn’t say ‘Hey, can I interest you in dinner, a movie, and my virginity?’”

“You should have.”

We both chuckle.

“What about your back?”

“That’s another reason I picked Chance. Something tells me that if I wear the right skirt or dress, sans panties, he’s the type of guy who can happily get the job done without removing all our clothes. I’m thinking a button down, open in the front bra, and knee length skirt.”

“Only my brainy business friend would approach losing her virginity like a strategic business transaction.”

“So help me, God, if you tell Kai I will murder you right after I tell your parents about our little housing and work arrangement.”

“Me––ow, put your claws away. Save the catfight for all the women who are going to hate that you’re officially putting yourself back on the market.”

I shove her off the bed. “Shut up. I’m just getting rid of my yeast infection, nothing more.”

She stands back up with a goofy grin. “Oh, by the way … my parents are leaving tonight. My dad has to get back for a meeting and I’m going to Sean’s as soon as they leave. So no need to pack more stuff.” She gestures to my bag. “You’ll be here by yourself to bask in your non-virgin glow. Unless you stay the night at Chance’s.”

“Yeah, not happening.”

Oliver

Another self-diagnosis. I’m reverting back to childish ways of discarding a toy and deciding I want it again when my younger brother claims it for his own. The difference is I don’t want Vivian, I need her. Not because I want to. I don’t. The last thing I ever wanted was to need someone again.

“Where should I take Viv to dinner tonight?” Chance asks as we load up the truck.

He’s managed to go the past two days without mentioning his date, until now.

“I don’t know. Where do you usually go … oh, that’s right, you usually just have meaningless sex and send them off with cab fare and a gift card to Panera.”

“I’ll have you know I give them a Charlie Card for the subway or bus because cab fare is ridiculously expensive and the gift card is to 7-Eleven, not Panera.” We both get in the truck and he adjusts his baseball cap with his familiar dumb-shit grin smeared across his face.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’d rather be an idiot taking Viv back to my place tonight than a nerd going home by myself.”

“Whatever.” I sigh looking out the window. I should tell him Vivian is my neighbor, the girl I was seeing, the virgin, but I can’t. He wouldn’t understand why I broke things off with her, and he wouldn’t understand why I need her. I can’t even explain it to myself. Maybe he’ll get sick. Maybe she’ll get cold feet. Maybe I’ll lose the last bit of my sanity sitting alone in my house imagining them together.

Most likely I’ll get drunk and pass out because my mind has nowhere to go that isn’t painful. I’m barely holding it together knowing my parents are in Portland. Everywhere my thoughts travel, there is a road block. I could find a detour and deal with each problem one at a time, but it’s easier to just idle until I run out of gas, stalled in the middle of nowhere, completely alone.

“What would you think about swapping vehicles for tonight?” Chance asks, pulling up to the curb in front of my house.

I look across the street and dream of Vivian stepping out of her door, Chance making the connection, and maybe their date tonight getting cancelled. No such luck.

“Don’t you think she’d wonder why you’re driving my car?”

“How would she know it’s yours? Do you have the title taped to the dash?”

“Why would she think you drive a BMW?”

“Duh, because I’m a successful business owner. It would only make sense that I have a non-work car.”

I open my door. “Then why don’t you?”

Chance’s eyes widen and he juts his head toward me. “Because I’m not that successful, but she doesn’t need to know that.”

“Uh, yes she does. Drive your truck. Maybe she’ll tell Maggie how poor you are and we’ll get a good deal on our next order. So, see ya, and don’t be a jerk tonight.” I slam the door.

I’ve spent years studying, observing, and dealing with the legal consequences of self-destructive behavior. Anyone else in my shoes would run and take cover knowing that the fuse has been lit at both ends. Not me. I can’t control my emotions, not the ones that have bloomed and are waiting to die, or the ones that are opening up and waiting to be acknowledged. They’re becoming tangled in my head and creeping into my every thought.

Mom: They bloomed, Oliver. Oh my goodness, they bloomed! Maybe they’ve been waiting for you.

I look down at my phone.

Me: Maybe they’ve been waiting for the sun.

Mom: Yes, my son.

I shut off my phone for a while so she gets that I’m not discussing this with her. Then I look at my couch and see the small blue and gray striped decorative pillow my mom bought last month. It’s survived longer than any other. I think of her message, then I think of Chance, then I think of Vivian. It’s thin cotton with weak stitching, and I usually open these flimsy pillows like a bag of chips, but for some reason I grab a knife from the kitchen and stab it over and over until there’s nothing left but an empty tattered shell and white polyester fiber filling everywhere.

Fuck it! Fuck her! Fuck everyone!

Tossing the knife on the coffee table, I collapse on the couch and rake my hands through my hair, breathless from my pent up anger. Reaching in my pocket, I pull out my phone and turn it back on.

Mom: You’re exactly where you need to be. In your own time, dear.

I notice the time: 7:00 p.m. Grabbing my wallet and keys, I rush out the door, driven by something that doesn’t yet make sense in my head. Maybe it’s where I need to be at this time.

I ease my car to a stop along the street at the opposite end of the alley from where Chance parks. Within a few minutes I see his truck stop along the curb and like the gentleman he is not, he opens the passenger side door. His chivalry pisses me off more than if he’d just grope her ass and show his true colors. Vivian’s knee-length skirt flows in the light breeze, as does her long raven hair, while he guides her into the alley with his hand on her back. They stop at his door and he bends down with his mouth next to her ear. Vivian’s head falls back in laughter as he unlocks his door.

My knee bounces out of control while my fists clench at a steady rhythm. I could call him and fake an emergency, but it wouldn’t be more than a temporary fix. This same scene would play out another night. I watch the clock on my phone, trying to decide if I’m here to stop her or pick up the pieces when she walks out his door later. God, that’s the million dollar question. If I want her, then I should see if she goes through with it and maybe that will be the answer for me. But if I need her, then there’s no way in hell I can let Chance have her tonight.

Tick-tock.

Knee bouncing.

Fists clenching.

Heart racing.

Fuck it! I need her.

I’m not sure how many paces are between my car and Chance’s front door, but I’m certain I just halved it.

Bang, bang, bang!

Chance opens the door with his face contorted in confusion. “Bro, what are you doing here?”

I brush past him. Vivian sits on the couch holding a glass of wine—she’s probably already drunk—and there’s some soft music playing through his speakers. Her daring eyes widen as I approach.

“Oliver, what are you doing?”

“Dude, what’s going on?” Chance calls behind me, but I keep my eyes on Vivian as I hold out my hand to her.

She stares at it, then me. “No.” She shakes her head.

“Oliver, do you mind telling us what’s going on?” Chance rests his hand on my shoulder, but I shrug it off.

“Vivian is my neighbor.” I grit my teeth.

“Your … what? She’s who you’ve been—”

“Yes, and now she’s coming with me.”

Vivian sets her wine down and stands, crossing her defiant arms. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Viv, you’re the virgin?” Chance asks.

Vivian throws her hands in the air. “Oh. My. God! Has it gone viral online too? Does everyone know I’m a virgin?” She grabs her purse, storming to the door. “Why is it such a damn big deal?” she yells.

Chance doesn’t move. It’s apparent his mind is playing catch-up. I follow Vivian out the door.

“Don’t touch me and don’t follow me!” She waves her finger at me when I attempt to grab her arm.

“Where are you going?” I call as she stomps up the alley.

“I’m going to get my cherry popped, dickhead!”

What?

“Vivian, wait!” I jog after her. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I reach for her hand. She yanks it away.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who ditched me because my hymen’s still intact.” She turns and strides away.

“I’m sorry.”

Still walking away.

“I was stupid.”

Still walking away.

“Dammit!” I chase after her. Grabbing her waist, I pull her to me as she twists and flails to escape. “Just listen to me.”

“No!” She wriggles in my arms, jerking her elbows side to side.

Leaving me no choice, I hoist her over my shoulder and she screams. “Stop, my skirt … I’m not wearing—”

I reach up to pull her skirt down over her … bare ass!

“Where the hell are your underwear?”

She punches her fists against my backside. “They’re at my house. Now put me down!”

“Are you behind on your laundry?”

“No! Are you really this dense?”

I deposit her in the passenger’s seat.

“Buckle up.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Why would I go with you?”

My head drops and I rest my hands on the top of my car. “Because I need you.”

She gapes at me with an unrelenting stare as I shut her door.

“Why do you need me?” she whispers as I pull away from the curb.

Keeping my eyes on the road, I shake my head. “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

We travel home in a thick cloud of silence, my voice held hostage by emotion laden tongue. I anticipate her making a dash across the street for her door when I stop the car, but she doesn’t. She waits for me to open her door. Taking her hand, I lead her to my place and she follows without hesitation.

Vivian stops just inside the door as I continue forward, tossing my keys on the counter.

“Do you want something to drink?” I hate the uncertainty that’s in my voice, like I just made a huge mistake and now I don’t know what to do about it.

She shakes her head as intense eyes full of uncertainty track my every move. My phone chimes in my pocket. There’s a missed call and a message from an unknown number. I listen to it as Vivian continues to watch me, gauge me, unravel me.

It’s not the voice on the message, or the words, it’s the timing. I can’t hear anything past my own pounding pulse and all I see is red. Three years later and I hate her with every fiber of my being. I slam my phone on the counter shattering the face of it. Vivian jumps while standing in the middle of my living room. At some point she made her way to the mess of pillow filling and ripped fragments of material still strewn about the floor and couch.

“I’m … sorry. I should not have brought you here.” My feet take me to the stairs on their own accord because I’m so numb right now the only thing I feel is the suffocating compression on my sternum as my lungs fight for air. “Sor–sorry.” I stumble to my room and slam the door, ripping off my shirt because even the light weight of cotton feels like lead against my chest. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I hunch over with my head in my hands and cry. The pain pours out like a mix of blood and acid. The hate is all consuming and the pain is crippling.

The door creaks open. My emotions stall in my throat. I can’t look up, so all I see are her bare feet facing away from me.

“Please … go.” My voice cracks.

She doesn’t budge. Her shirt falls to the floor by her feet. I can only see the back of her legs from the knees down. What is she doing? Her bra joins her shirt on the floor.

She waits.

Her back is to me and then it hits me so hard––her back is bared to me.

Releasing my hands from my face, I move my gaze up to her back one slow inch at a time. She’s shaking like a delicate leaf and her hair is pulled off to one shoulder. I blink away my tears––twisted branches with flowers. Flowers everywhere and not one … single … one … is bloomed.

Oh. God!

Every intricate detail covers what’s lying beneath: scars—everywhere. Then she turns her head and glossy green eyes meet mine as she bites together her trembling lips.

“Vivian …” I whisper. “… beautiful, you’re … perfect.”

Tears spill down her cheeks. “No take backs?”

I smile, taking her hand in mine. She turns around and moves between my legs, brushing her hair off her chest. Pressing my lips to her palm, I close my eyes and crash. My whole world collides and she has no idea that in this moment she’s throwing me a lifeline. “No take backs.”

It kills me that someone so stunning inside and out has lived in fear of people changing their mind about her beauty. I wonder how long she’s lived with such insecurity. Even more, I wonder if any man has made her feel less than perfect. The pain in her eyes when she looks back at me tells me the answer is yes.

She begins to slip her skirt past her hips but I grab her wrists.

“Not tonight. I’m just …” I sigh. “I have too much on my mind, but soon. Okay?”

She pulls her skirt back up and nods while grabbing her bra and shirt. With a weak smile she turns away from me to finish dressing.

“Vivian?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not upset are you?”

She shakes her head. I stand and walk in front of her as she buttons the last button.

“Are you sure?”

She looks at my chest. “Yes. I’ll just see you tomorrow or something.”

I cup her face and kiss her soft lips. It’s taking everything I have to let her go tonight, but she deserves my full attention and right now I’m being pulled apart.

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s across the street.” Her voice is void of emotion as she turns and walks down the hall to the stairs.

I sense she’s at least a little disappointed, but I don’t know what more I can say or do tonight. Looking out the bedroom window, I watch her sprint down the front steps of the building and across the street. As she fumbles to get her key in the lock, I notice her arm keeps rubbing her eyes.

Shit! She’s crying.