Dirty Curve

by Meagan Brandy

“All right, fine. No dude.” I nod to myself, then peek at her from the side. “Not even a shitty one?” “Oh my god, Tobias!” she shouts, cutting her head my way. “Stop talking,” she says, but there’s a slight bit of something in her usually crisp tone. “Hold up.” I angle my head playfully. “Was that ... are you amused by me?” “No.” “I think you are.” “I definitely am not.” “Oh, yes, you are.” I jump in front of her, walking backward so we can face each other. “It was tiny, I’m talking statue cock tiny, but it was there.” Her lips curve into a smile, but she pulls them together to try and hide it. “Ha!” I shout, calling her out, but then I stumble over a curb she didn’t warn me was coming and fall onto my ass. And it’s not because of my semi sort of buzz I’ve got going on. Now, though, there’s no denying. The girl’s laughing at me. Full-on laughing and you know what? I ain’t mad about it.

“You chose not to warn me, didn’t you?” Her shrug is coy, but she drops her eyes to the grass soon after and when she looks back up, a hint of dejection creeps over her. She straightens, switches the bags from one hand to the next, and starts walking again.

“You should go back to your friends—” “Look, Tutor Girl,” I cut her off with a grin. “It’s late, it’s dark, you’re not walking by yourself.” She’s quiet a moment before she speaks again. “I don’t want to walk with you,” she whispers, her frown is focused forward. Just like that, the bit of fun is fucked off into the night. “Yeah, well. Too bad.” I don’t look her way, unsure why a flare of disappointment washes over me. “I’m walking home just the same now, so only makes sense I walk with you. Which dorm do you live in?” “I don’t live in the dorms.” “Okay, what housing are you in?” I take off ahead of her this time, ignoring the small huff she lets out. “Front side or back side?” “I’m not in housing either.” I glance back. “All right, so then where do you live?” “Let’s not talk, okay?”

Home now, I take a quick shower, and flop onto my bed in nothing but my birthday suit, my sleepwear of choice. That’s when it hits me and I chuckle to myself. Of course. It’s obvious now. Tutor Girl got upset, maybe even insulted, at my offer to walk her home because I didn’t offer to take her back to mine. Maybe the poor girl felt rejected. Yeah, that could be it. Maybe. It’s also the reason I text her an hour later to make sure she got home safe.

Tobias

We head over to the center, but before we reach it, a familiar ball of hair catches my eye. Tutor Girl and my boy Coop’s ex-girl, Bianca, are walking up the steps to the math building, laughing about something on their phones. I grin. She has friends and is capable of smiling without hiding it like normal people do. Who knew?

“Come on, baby,” I purr, laying it on thick and a bit louder than necessary. “Just last night you were calling me Daddy, and now today I’m already back to Tobias?” I tsk, taking another step until her back meets the wall. She tries to get away, but there’s no escape. “Stop,” she hisses, turning to avoid sharing the same air as me. Too bad for her, I crouch to meet her height. “I believe your words were don’t stop.” “Oh my god,” she whispers, dropping her chin to her chest as the others around us pretend not to be circling, hoping to catch some dirt flying. “I think I need a redo, Tutor Girl.” I run the back of my pointer finger down her arm, but that fucker freezes right where it’s at, on the soft underside just above her elbow.

I look where my touch rests. Are those ... goose bumps? No fucking way.

“Yeah, a redo’s what I need ...” I keep going, step more into her, and speak even louder. “Maybe I didn’t quite leave my mark, huh?” Her eyes squeeze shut, quickly flicking open and narrowing in on me. There’s a heaviness behind them that has me slowly easing up. Unsure of what’s happened and why she’s caging up even more, I’m about to call a truce. Despite what she’s likely convinced herself of, I’m not trying to hurt her. I’m just playing with her. But Tutor Girl does what not a lot of girls can. She surprises me.

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” she says with conviction and a dash of sultry taunting, but I got a feeling that’s for show. “I couldn’t forget our night together if I tried.” She shoves past. Gone is the flirty sexiness her posture and voice held for a whole five seconds and in its place is a resolute chick ready to dish it. Tutor Girl whips around, and volcanic eyes sear mine. “And believe me, I’ve tried.”

I smirk and shrug it off, because who the fuck is she and what the fuck was that? A fake performance I basically pulled from her. I try not to stare as she storms across the yard, those hips swaying in wrath, that ass, that I can’t see but can picture just fucking fine, taunting me as she heads who the hell knows where, but I can’t help it. My attention’s fucking glued to her.

This is bullshit. Twice. I called Tutor Girl twice today. Yeah, called, not texted. Who does that? No fucking body, that’s who, but when she didn’t respond or bother to open the four or five messages I sent her—I know, ‘cause there’s no check mark—what was I supposed to do?

I wasn’t either, at first, but once I realized any good I did would be spun negatively by the school papers, I went ahead and gave them something else to talk about, the only other thing they chose to print when it came to me. The Playboy Pitcher living up to his name. I’m sure Noah gets his, but I’d bet it’s with one chick, a girl who is in the same boat as him, someone focused on school and not interested in the frat boy lifestyle. He’s a damn good guy.

He looks away with a low chuckle but says nothing. See? Humble as fuck. Good dude, great student. Bet Tutor Girl would like someone like him. I freeze, halfway extended, to pick up a dumbbell. What the fuck was that? No, no. I don’t give a damn who or what she does in her spare time, so long as my work is solid, and I get to play ball. But! If she is ignoring my calls because she’s with some fuckface, that ain’t cool. Son of a bitch, I sound like a bitch.

Let’s see if Tutor Girl’s made a habit out of walking alone in the dark. A few hours later, and there she is, crossing the dimly lit street. I want to call out her name, slam her for her reckless choice, and do it again when she rolls those eyes at my rant. But then she shifts, and the shitty streetlight catches something small on the inside of her jacket. A name badge. She shifts again and I make out the logo on her top, but it’s not a top. It’s an apron from the burger place down the road. She was at work. She’s walking home alone, late as shit at night, from work.

Walk and work, I mean. She wouldn’t do either if she didn’t need to, right? Wait, she has two jobs? Instead of doing any of the things I was about to, I step farther into the shadows, follow at a distance from my side of the road and once she’s safe and crossing campus grounds, the security guard rolling along in his golfcart at her side, I head home. I don’t know why, but I do the same exact thing the very next day.

Tobias

“No freaking lie?!” Meyer’s lips curve up as she snags the paper I’m holding up in front of her. She scans over it and that smile of hers grows. Laughing, I repeat her words. “No lie.” “That’s killer for a pop quiz.” “I’ve got a ‘killer’ tutor.” Finally, her eyes come up to mine and she pulls her mouth to one side. “We didn’t go over this section. You read this one on the bus on the way back from your Arizona game. This is all you, Tobias Cruz.” Again, with that smile. “Be proud.” Are you?

“I didn’t get a chance to eat after practice, cool if we grab a pizza? There’s a patio we can work on.” Her face smooths out and she looks out across the grass. “Um.” “You won’t be sorry. They’ve got the best sauce around.” With her head down, she timidly says, “I only have two hours.” “I know.” I’m no fool. She’s here because she’s required, but that doesn’t mean it has to stay that way, right? I pull my keys from my pocket and walk backward toward the parking lot. “It’s only a couple miles from here, I have my truck.” My eyes roam across her makeup-less face. “I’ll get you back in good time, Tutor Girl. Promise.” She begins to nibble on that lower lip of hers and I pull in a slow breath, willing my cock to behave itself. I get it, my man, you’re fucking starved. Meyer’s brown eyes come back to mine and she says, “Okay.” “Wait, for real?” My head tugs back. “I said okay.” She chuckles, flicking her gaze to the sky. “Well, okay. Right this way, Tutor Girl.” I hop off the curb, unlocking and opening the door to my Dodge Ram for her. “Hop on in George.” She looks to me with a goofy expression. “George?” “That’s right.” “That’s odd.” “You ever met a George who wasn’t a reliable son of a bitch?” I lift a brow, walking around the hood to my own door. “Bet not.”

Inside, Franny, the mom of the place, greets us with a weathered smile and a wave. “How you doing, honey, get over here, and you brought a friend!” She quickly turns her head, shouting, “Joe, get out here, Tobias is here and he brought a friend!” Meyer lifts her hand, disguising her laugh as a low cough. I give Franny a hug and shake Joe’s hand when he steps from behind the swinging door a moment later. Joe pats my back. “Been a couple weeks, huh? Thought you pissed on us for that new joint down the road.” I laugh. “Not me, Joe, not me.” I turn to Meyer. “This is Meyer, she goes to school at Avix, too.” “Well look at you.” The old man grins at her. “You don’t have all that shit on your face and you’re still prettier than this one.” He jerks his head toward me, kisses his wife and disappears behind the door once more.

Meyer shakes her head as Franny leaves, and then turns to me. “They’re so cute.” “Yeah, I want to be them when I grow up.” I smile. She eyes me, a look of surprise crossing her face. “What?” “I guess that’s not something I’d expect you to say.” “I wonder why?” I tease, knowing exactly where she’s coming from. “You know you can’t believe everything you hear ... or read.” Her laughter is light, and while her head lowers, those eyes hold on to mine. “You okay with pepperoni? It sounds boring but Joe’s is fire, swear.” “Don’t worry about me.” “You’re eating with me.” Her smile is sheepish. “I didn’t know you wanted to go eat. I like to leave my wallet at home so I don’t spontaneously spend.” A quick meal is spending spontaneously for her? As I think that, a sense of aversion washes over me. Twenty bucks didn’t always come so easy for me either.

“Contrary to what you may believe, or the shitty impression I gave with the whole ‘be my schoolwork slave,’ I’m not a complete dickhead.” I lean forward. “I wouldn’t invite you, order a pizza, and expect you to pay for any of it.” “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” A chuckle leaves me, and she grins at her joke, but hides it by focusing on pulling her laptop from her bag. “Pepperoni isn’t boring, by the way.” She looks to me and pops a brow with a playful grin. “It’s a classic.” Damn straight it is.

She’s back in her seat now, though, has shed that awful sweater, and even let a flip-flop fall to the floor beneath the table, one of her legs now folded up in the chair. And right this second, she’s accepting a refill of iced tea, only after making sure it’s not an extra fee. Meyer sighs, smiling into her glass as she looks at me. “We got through a lot today. If you do your reading tonight and your professors stick to their schedules tomorrow, you won’t have any work while you’re away the next two days.”

“We still have a good half hour before we have to head back.” For the first time today, she pulls her phone from her bag. “It looks like we do.” “Read to me.” Her eyes pop up. “What?” “The sections I have left? Read them to me.”

She’s fire, I know it, and call me a fuckin’ pyro ‘cause, goddamn if I don’t crave the flame.

I’m as good as whiplash when it comes to her, I know that, but she does that to me. She confuses my mind and sends shock waves through my brain that don’t quite compute the way I’m used to. My initial reaction is always to do what’s expected, to be who they expect when things around me begin to feel sour or new. Unexpected. But maybe that’s the wrong way to go about it where she’s concerned. Maybe she doesn’t expect a thing from me at all.

Licking my lips, I tip my head the slightest bit. “Please?” At first, I think she’s going to decline, but Meyer reaches over, slowly dragging my history textbook toward her and flips open the page with the next little green tab she added for me last week. She takes a small sip of her sweet tea and then starts at line one. She reads to me without pause and I watch her all the while.

Before I can, Meyer picks my book back up, and I don’t say a word but lead us toward the front of the restaurant. Franny steps up, passing two large foam cups to me and hands a to-go bag to Meyer. “What’s this?” Meyer smiles, peeking inside. “That’s a half dozen cinnamon knots and they’re not to be shared with this one.” Franny slaps my chest. “Come back and see us, will you?” “I will,” she promises, thanking her again. “And don’t worry, I’m not sharing these with him. My friend’s coming over tonight for a movie and she’s a sucker for sweets. You just made her night and she doesn’t even know it yet.”

“You’ll be back in a few weeks to help me finish the deck, huh, Tobias?” Joe calls from somewhere in the back. “We’re almost done with her!” “Yes, sir, I will. Let me know once it’s delivered.” “You know I will, and bring that girl with you when you come, huh? Franny likes her!”

“I bet it means a lot to them, having your company and your help.” “Does to me too. There’re not a lot of places I can go around here and take my hat off, so to speak.” I glance her way briefly, and her lips twitch. “That makes me sound like a bitch?” Meyer laughs, shaking her head. “No, it doesn’t.” I grin and head back to campus. I’m about to strike up a random conversation in an effort to keep her talking, but then Meyer grabs her tea from the cup holder and opens up my book once more. She picks up where she left off, so I slow my speed and take the long way home.

Meyer

I’ve been trying to work my way through a single section of my sociology book for the last hour, but every few minutes, I realize I’m staring blankly at the page, my mind on something else completely. More like someone else. And to think I sat there completely engrossed in reading his book to him for nearly an hour. Something tells me it had nothing to do with the words themselves, and that’s a scary revelation. An unwelcome revelation? If I’m being honest with myself, today was nice. Dare I say, needed.

I can’t pinpoint when exactly my life became a hamster wheel, but for a long time now it’s been wake up, climb into this circle, wash, rinse, and repeat. I didn’t feel that way today. Today, my mind wasn’t already two tasks ahead, and I have Tobias to thank for that.

He is trouble, that’s for sure, but I get the sense he didn’t inflate the bubble people claim surrounds him. I think he wants someone to step a little closer, to look a little deeper. He wants someone to open their eyes and look into his without prejudgment. Or maybe he just doesn’t care what others think, and he does the only thing he can. He accepts the misconceptions for what they are – beyond his control.

They care for him, that much was obvious, but what was surprising, at least at first, was that the man cares for them too. An adorable, hardworking old couple with no ties to him. No tie, but a common felt emotion, one I know all too well. Loneliness. Sighing, I close my textbook and tug the blanket up to my chin. I’m not so sure it was a good thing to see this side of Tobias Cruz, but I’m also not so sure I regret it.

Tobias

How these sons of bitches let me get up to bat, I don’t know. Maybe the long-haired pretty boy wants to try and prove a point, to be the sole fucker who could say he struck out your boy, but what a dumb shit he is.

I look out at the now empty field with a smirk, but as I do, the parking lot lights kick on in the distance, and an instant frown takes over. It’s getting dark out. I’m a good five hundred miles from Oceanside, and there’s a girl that might be walking alone in the dark tonight. Fuck. I break from the giggly group, grab my phone from my pocket, and scroll to Meyer’s number, but my fingers pause there. I narrow my eyes, looking out at the people piling into their cars and heading off. She has no clue I followed her home those few nights, so what the hell am I supposed to say? Yesterday, I didn’t trip on it because I heard her tell Franny her friend was coming over, so I knew she wouldn’t be working. Once I heard that, I forgot to remember I’d be gone today, too.