Better Than Burroughs

Callum

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I sit up and grab my shirt off the floor. Pulling it on, I stand up and move to get my pants. Tugging them on, I zip them and turn around to face the girl, already able to see her face in my mind. That look would pull me back into the bed if it was someone else.

“You’re leaving? Already?” she asks, her voice small. She sits up, holding the sheet to her bare chest and stares at me openly.

I rub my jaw and nod. I content myself with remembering that I told her what this would be. I always tell them. The thing is with women is that they never fucking believe you. They tend to all flock towards the line of thinking that dictates the rough, sex-driven bad boys just need some love. Those girls are never the ones. I still feel like a rotten bastard.

I quickly decide that being a bastard will be better for her, it’ll be easier for her to hate me. Much better than her wondering what she did wrong. I can handle her hate. Fuck, I hate myself half the time. She lowers her head, blond hair falling over her face and I briefly wonder if she’s crying. Please don’t let this be a crier.

I walk to the edge of the bed and lean over, kissing the top of her head quickly, “Thanks fer the good time love.”

Standing up, I turn around and spot my jacket draped over a chair. Moving over, I grab it and pull it on, leaving it unzipped. Walking to the door, I hesitate when I hear her call me an asshole.

“Thank you,” I say, needing to hear that, and I walk out the door.

Ten minutes later, I’m buying cigarettes and tequila while wondering when the hell I started smoking. The girl behind the register smiles at me and I do my best to return it fully before walking out of the small corner store.

Amanda was it? She was sweet and completely desirable. Danced beautifully. Graceful. She may do ballet, I didn’t ask though. The bar was packed and I would have left if I hadn’t seen her. She wanted to go to my place, but that wasn’t going to happen. She said she was embarrassed by her apartment. I didn’t notice anything wrong with it, but I didn’t notice much behind her body.

Before I know it, I’m crossing the street heading towards home. The fresh air is wonderful, clearing Amanda’s perfume from my sinuses. Walking up to my store, I notice the light on at Anderson’s Art across the way and check my watch. It’s bordering on nine thirty, meaning they must have just closed. Abandoning my door, I jog over to the Anderson’s store and try the door. Finding it unlocked, I push it open and walk inside, the little bell announcing my arrival.

It smells like fixative and I feel suddenly relaxed. The counter by the door is empty so I head straight for the back room, finding Charlie doing inventory, “Hey.”

Looking up, Charlie smiles and grabs me in a hug, “Hey there son. You haven’t been by in awhile, Betty is on the verge on baking you cookies.”

I hug him back, giving the old man a good squeeze. He pats my shoulder and stands back, giving me the once over. Fuck. I haven’t shaved.

“Trying to grow a beard boy? You starting to look like Max.”

“Where is Max?” noticing that the miniature schnauzer wasn’t laying at the door like he usually is. He is pretty old and I briefly worry that he’s no longer with us. I shake it off, Betty would have held a funeral if something had happened and I would have known about it.

“You just missed Betty and him, they left not ten minutes ago.”

We leave the storage room and I branch off from his company to grab some charcoal. Meeting him at the counter, I dump all the packages and lean over to rest my elbows on the glass, “How’s Betty been feeling?”

“Better, just a little cough left. She’ll be sad she missed you,” Charlie says, pulling a paper bag out from under the counter. He sorts through the packages and smiles, “I keep telling you, it’s better to have extras around.”

“I just use ‘em faster,” I say. I never do anything a little at a time. I wait until I need to and than stock up. I watch him ring everything up and write the price down on the Schnauzer themed calendar hanging on the wall. I haven’t been over a lot this month, the evidence being that only one other day has a price written on it. Frowing, I need to come by more. I’m sorry I missed Betty, I really am.

“You know, you two could easily come by the store.”

“Oh we don’t want to interfere,” Charlie says and I want to smack his hand.

“That’s asinine. It’s all yours,” I point out. I’m incredibly lucky to have met them. I wouldn’t have anything if I hadn’t. They’re like parents to me. I need to get it together.

He nods thoughtfully and I think he may have something to say, but a second later he smiles and nods his head, “Betty will just want to clean.”

“She’s welcome to it.”

I spend the next twenty minutes helping Charlie with unloading supplies. Unloading the last of it, some kneaded erasers, I can’t remember if I needed any more so I just grab three and pocket them. Finishing putting them on the shelf, I find Charlie behind the counter again and put the erasers in my bag. Walking past him, I grab the pen and add three dollars to my total purchase for the day.

“What you get?”

“Why?”

Charlie grabs the bag, surprisingly quick, and looks inside, “So dishonest.”

He motions for me to give him the pen, which I relent, and he crosses off what I wrote and writes $1.80.

Marina

“He put it in an envelope and duct taped it to the door. I couldn’t believe it,” Felix says with a laugh, handing me my phone. I take the phone and smile, looking for something, anything to assuage my chaotic suspicions. He’s not late today and the hopeful side of me is screaming that I’m an idiot to ever think he was cheating on me. But the rational side knows that it doesn’t mean he isn’t. He’s looking at me expectantly and I realize I forgot to kiss him hello. I step into his body and kiss him, he responds instantly and softly returns it.

“Hey,” I mutter, breaking the kiss.

He smiles, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

I don’t do anything else when he comes home and can’t think of what he could be talking about, I raise my eyebrows and wait for him to answer his question.

“My phone.”

I step away from him, not being able to stop the instant frown. The phone. His damn phone. I should have thrown it out of the car window and ran it over. Turning around, I grab my purse from the kitchen table and find his phone. I carelessly toss it to him, not being concerned with whether or not I even aimed correctly and he was able to catch it. I don’t hear it hit the floor and assume he made it. Damn.

“Did anyone call?” he asks, picking the mail up from the kitchen counter and sifting through it. I half turn and stare at his profile. Should I tell him that she called? See how he responds? If I lie, what if he checks the call list? Why would he ask if he could check it to begin with? If he does have something to worry about, he might ask so he’ll seem normal. But if I got my phone back from Callum himself, I’d be tempted to ask if anyone called. So Felix could easily be asking just out of curiosity.

“I picked up the first one before I knew it was yours, I let the rest go to voicemail,” I say nonchalantly. I actually put the phone on silence so I wouldn’t have to listen to the ring and be tempted to answer.

“Who was the first one?” Felix asks, ripping an envelope open and pulling a piece of paper out.

“I didn’t catch her name, she was quite the charmer.” I watch him carefully, but don’t notice any change in his appearance. Either he’s really good at covering up, or I’m being an idiot. I don’t know which one I want to be true. No one likes being an idiot, but I doubt I would like being the fool either.

He makes a noise in his throat, much like a grunt, combined with a slight nod and I get the feeling the topic has been dropped. My stomach growls in hunger, spurning me to ask about dinner, “Do you feel like going out to eat?”

He shakes his head before glancing over to look at me. My face must have fallen because he smiles apologetically and says, “Sure. Let’s make a night of it. See a movie. You can invite Emma.”

I grab his arm and pull him away from the mail, dragging him into a hug. He rarely concedes to a theater visit, he hates sitting in a dark room with strangers who can’t seem to shut up. While noisy people enrage me, it’s still part of the fun. A movie is never as good as it is in a theater. The idea of sitting in a room with a group of people I will never speak too or even see again, but despite that, we’re all the same.

“What do you want to see?” I ask, looking up at him.

“We can figure it out later,” he kisses my temple and turns back to the mail. Leaving him, I go to get changed, in the mood to dress nicer than jeans and a t-shirt.

Callum

He had to call while Charlie was nearby and Felix just has to talk like I’m deaf, now I’m fucked. When I tried to turn the offer down, Charlie looked at me with so much disappointment that I couldn’t go through it. He doesn’t think I’m social enough apparently. I tried to get him to come with, but he refused. I got the feeling the oxygen thief was laughing at me. Now I’m tired, angry, staring at my Gardenburger, and for some sodding reason Jerry Orbach is singing in my head. I don’t want to remember anything for fuck’s sake. I haven’t even taken a bloody shower and all I can smell is that girl’s strong perfume all over my body.

“You okay man?”

I look up at Felix sitting across from me before glancing over at Marina next to him. They’re both looking at me with brows raised in curiosity. I don’t bother looking at the girl to my right, she’ll be looking at me just the same.

“Of course,” I plaster a cocky smile on and decide to make the most of the evening. I could at least have some fun. Marina smiles at me and I turn to her friend beside me. I’ve already focused on Marina enough. I was a blithering idiot when I first saw her standing outside the restaurant, wearing the god damn red coat of hers. If I was in a sour mood before, but that instantly made me want to kill myself. Looking at Emma, I must admit that she’s far more attractive than I thought she would be. Red hair that demands attention and I wonder if it’s natural. From the way she’s looking at me, it’s possible I’ll have the opportunity to check.

They want to go to the theater and that I am not doing. Set myself up to sit in a dark room with Marina near me? Out of all likelihood, I’d end up stuck sitting next to her and have to spend the entire time keeping that entire side of my body in the most uncomfortable position in an attempt to avoid touching her. I’d rather get poked in the eye with a blunt sodding stick.

“Your accent is so…where are you from?” Emma turns her chair towards me and leans in, her face close to mine and I choose my course of action.

“London.”

“I have always wanted to go there.”

“I’ll take you sometime, show you things the tourists never see.” She loves my response and I can see her warm in the palm of my hand. Of course I’m bloody not taking her to London, even she knows that. But the romanticism of the idea wins over the reality.

I talk with Emma, using forty percent of my attention, I fear the last sixty is focusing on the couple across the table. Looking for anything to explain something. I get nothing and it just depresses the fuck out of me. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. Whatever it is, it’s not happening. Emma laughs and I don’t remember what I said to spurn her on. Her lips are too dark. Very few women can look attractive with deep red lips. She’s wearing too much eye makeup for the heavy lip color. Minimalism is key.

Marina throws her head back in laughter, exposing her long neck. When she rights it, her hair falls messily across her face. I clench my fists beneath the table when Felix brushes the hair away.

“You should try it sometime, it’s a blast.”

“Sorry, what?” I ask, looking back at Emma.

“Bungee jumping.” She mocks me with a laugh, “I need someone to go with me. Marina refuses.”

“That only cause I have this tiny theory that somehow my liver will dislodge,” Marina throws in, holding a hand up to demonstrate with her fingers just how tiny her theory is.

“That’s bullshit. It’s such a rush,” Felix says, throwing an arm around the back of Marina’s chair. I feel like I’m watching a bloody ping pong match suddenly and my stomach rolls.

Marina reels back, looking at Felix, “I never knew you’ve been bungee jumping.”

“There’s tons of things you don’t know.”

Now this is interesting. Her face goes blank, like blinds being dropped, and she focuses on the precipitation on her water glass. Leaning forward, I decide to get in this bungee debate.

“No, Marina’s got a point. There was a lass somewhere around the states who was hung. She bounced up and the cord wrapped around her neck.”

“That’s not exactly a liver dislodging,” Felix laughs.

“Considering she died, I’ll assume it was worse.” I almost add in a small defense on Marina’s behalf, but stop myself from saying anything. Felix is being an absolute wanker about it, she clearly used humor to show that she fears the act. She’s staring at me with her head cocked to one side and I have no idea what the hell she’s thinking. I suddenly feel uneasy and than feel worse because she’s making me uneasy.

“Morons will do anything for a giggle,” I say.

Marina

“Wait a sec, you’re calling Emma and I here morons?” Felix asks, his face livening up, a smile spreading. Callum nods a definite yes, leaning forward on his elbows.

“If I remember correctly, you’ve been more times than I have.”

I watch Callum duck his head, so I chime in, “Isn’t that a little hypocritical?”

Lifting his head, he stares straight at me, his eyes smiling, saying, “I made no claims.”

“So I guess I’m the only smart one at this table,” I lean back confidently in my chair, crossing my arms against my chest.

“Is it smart to never take risks? I can’t speak for these poofs, but what can one accomplish without taking a few blind leaps?”

I have no answer. I keep my gaze steady and stare back at Callum, his mouth set in a small smirk, and I’m relieved when Felix changes the subject.

“Speaking of dumb asses, did you guys hear about that lady in the car pool lane, arguing that her unborn fetus is considered a second passenger?”

“She has a point. I mean, is it said that an unborn fetus doesn’t count?” Emma asks before taking a bite from her turkey sandwich. I listen to her argue over it with Felix and find my mind wandering. It just so happens to wander right across the table to settle on Callum. His eyebrows are always furrowed a little, looking like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and he has less than a month to feed all the starving children. I always seem to miss it when he shaves because whenever I see him, he’s managed a day’s worth of stubble. Although lately, it seems he’s been going for longer without shaving. I’ll guess that it’s been at least two and a half days since he used his razor. Squinting my eyes, I could easily picture him with a shaggy beard. Somehow, that doesn’t turn me off. Usually beards are very difficult to pull off for normal guys, actors seem to always manage, but average guys either look terrible or fabulous. Callum will look…

I don’t finish my thought because I notice that Callum has been staring back at me. I feel my cheeks warm but ignore it, not wanting to break eye contact. His brows furrow a little more and I wonder what he’s thinking. Suddenly he breaks away and seamlessly joins the conversation, “There was this women’s group, some complete bullshit like White Women Against Racism, and a black woman was thinking about signing up. They turned her down. Some silly sod said the only reason the woman was turned down was because racism is a problem for white people.”

“Where was that?” Felix asks.

“Fuck if I remember. Pennsylvania,” Callum picks his water glass up and drinks the rest. A waiter seems to come out of nowhere to fill it back up, obviously startling Callum, who mutters something about overzealous employees.

“That is pretty damn stupid. I think Callum wins,” Emma announces, throwing an arm around his shoulder. She smiles at me and I suddenly realize that I’m not happy for her. Thousands of ideas run through my head, all concerning why she and Callum would never work. Could never work. Along with that, comes a migraine.

“When are we seeing the movie anyway?” Emma asks.

“Let’s get out of here now,” Felix says, pulling his wallet out. “We should see Hostel.”

Emma agrees with so much excitement that it feels like someone’s driving nails in my forehead. I had forgotten about the whole movie plan. Honestly, I don’t really want to see a torture film while my head is trying to push my brain out my eyes. Actually, I don’t really feel like seeing anything anymore. I want to go home.

Turning to Felix, I lean in and softly say, “I’m not really up for a movie tonight after all.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Just a headache. I’m tired,” I say, expecting him to be disappointed but understand.

“You sure?” he asks, pulling out his credit card.

When I nod, he adds, “Alright, we’ll call you a cab.”

I’m shocked that he’s not planning on coming home with me, but instead going without me when he usually hates going in general. I sit back in my chair and notice that Callum is openly watching me. He gives me a small smile and I feel like he’s pitying me.

After the bill is taken care of and Callum finally got a box to put his untouched dinner in and a bag to put the box in, we all stand outside and listen to Felix talking on the phone with the cab company. Hanging up, he says, “It won’t get here for another ten minutes. We got to get to the theater though.”

“I’ll wait with you,” Callum says, moving to stand behind me. At Felix’s look, he adds, “I never had any bloody intention to see a movie.”

Emma rushes forward and grabs my arm, pulling me back inside the restaurant, “What’s up?”

I smile at her paranoia and shake my head, “Nothing. Honestly, it’s just a headache. I’ll be fine. You go, I know you’ve been wanting to see this.”

“Wouldn’t that be weird? My going with Felix?”

“I trust you not to jump him. And, you know, if he tries anything, than I guess I know what kind of a person he really is,” I reason. I feel bad giving him this little test, but it’s not like I’m forcing it upon him. If he doesn’t want to go to the movies without Callum or I, than he won’t. I’m not sure if I want him to or not. Glancing out the window, I see Felix and Callum laugh about something. Callum’s hands shoved in his jacket pockets. I’m surprised that there is room in there for his hands. The black leather jacket is quite form-fitting, looking like he owns a motorcycle. And hell, as far as I know, he does. He zips it up to his neck and I smile.

“If you’re sure…” Emma says slowly. I nod and take her arm in my own, leading her out the door to join the two guys.

“You still wanna go?” Felix asks Emma. She glances at me before nodding and I watch them walk towards his car. Sighing, I turn around to face Callum, who has found a streetlamp pole to be very comfortable.

“You mind if we just walk?” I ask, not wanting to wait for a cab. He seems surprised but nods anyway. He takes the lead and for a second I watch him. It may just be my imagination, but it seems that he’s been watching me more than he usually does. I was expecting him to stick with Emma, knowing that he’s not one to avoid women. He seemed interested for a moment, but than apparently had a change of heart. It’s impossible to read Callum, everything is just guesswork with him.

“Coming or what?” his voice carries across the street and I realize that he’s waiting for me on the other side. Jogging to catch up with him, we start walking. It should take maybe fifteen minutes to get to Felix’s apartment. I should really start calling it our apartment, but it just doesn’t feel like home. Nothing of me is in that place and for some odd reason, I have no desire to put my mark on it.

“I don’t really know anything about you,” I say, swinging my arms at my sides. Callum doesn’t answer and I don’t push for one. He’s always been more silent than not. But I really would like to get to know him better. I only know what Felix has mentioned and I never wanted to pry for fear of making Felix feel strange. Callum is an interesting guy.

Callum casually walks around me, moving to my right side, and I notice a man up ahead. He’s sitting against a building, his head bowed, and for a second I get the feeling that Callum moved solely in a protective manner. I don’t say anything and in a minute we get close enough to make it obvious that the man is quite old and probably asleep. The street lamp overhead casts him in a sickly yellow light, making him appear far worse off than he must be. Even with it, it’s obvious the man has seen better.

As we walk past, I notice Callum set his dinner down, leaving the bag at the man’s side. I stop walking and watch Callum’s back. I feel so much warmth for him just from that small gesture. I have to wonder how many people have walked past this man and not even noticed him. Pulling my wallet out of my purse, I find a twenty and slide it in the bag with Callum’s dinner.

Callum has stopped and is now waiting for me, I walk up to him and we continue on our way. He doesn’t say anything and neither do I. I find myself just comfortable with him. A few minutes pass and I recognize the street for housing a club I’ve always wanted to go in. I don’t know when, but at some point during our short walk, my migraine seems to have receded. Approaching the doors, I lay my hand down on his arm and he jerks. I ignore it, “Let’s go in. I want to dance.”

“What happened to your migraine?”

I shrug and plaster on a wide smile. He takes a step back and I head for the entrance, flinging the heavy door open and stepping inside. He curses behind me and I laugh to myself. I have no idea if he’ll follow me or if he’ll just leave me here. I hope he’ll follow, but I really don’t know.

I don’t look back and quickly adjust to the booming music. It’s not music I would ever listen to and honestly it will probably give me a worse migraine in ten minutes, but I don’t care. I haven’t gone dancing in so long because honestly, I’ve never actually learned how. But as long as I don’t feel pressured, I have a great time. I have no desire to dance with anyone in this place, I just want to dance by myself and enjoy it. I highly doubt Callum would dance with me anyway. He really just doesn’t seem the type to dance unless he gets something out of it. I imagine he would have no problem dancing with a girl who he was going to have sex with afterwards. I head into the middle of the dance floor and set out to enjoy myself for at least a few minutes.

It’s as if the entire club knew my plan when five minutes into my dancing, a fight breaks out at the bar. People rush forward, all wanting to see who it is. I swing my head back and forth, trying to spot Callum, not even knowing if he followed me. I hear a very British voice shout out “Fucking hell!”

Callum

I shake my hand, trying to ignore the stinging of my knuckles. This reminds me why I fucking hate hitting people. 'I’ll wait with her.' What the fuck was I thinking? She just had to dance. I feel like a sodding lap dog. I should have just bloody well left her. I have no commitment to her. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave her alone in a club full of drunk bastards.

The man I hit is on the floor, bitching about his nose being broken, blood flowing freely. Fucking serves the prick right. It’s all Marina’s damn fault. Bloody women. One thing I can’t tolerate, berks who run their mouths about the wrong women. He just went too bloody far and I snapped. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Bringing my hand up, I stare at my knuckles, the skin stretched over torn and bloody. What the hell is his face made of for fuck’s sake? Concrete? I hear my name called and turn to scan the crowd, seeing Marina rush forward. I turn back to the man on the floor and suddenly his fist is colliding with my jaw. Bloody perfect. What a sore fucking loser. People grab the guy and pull him back, causing him to fall to the floor again. I laugh and the pain makes me regret it. My jaw is on fire and I want to hit him again. Marina’s arms wrap around me and I forget entirely about the idea.

“Oh my god! Callum! Are you alright?” her voice is panicked and it makes me feel good. I nod and tell her we should leave. She seems to agree and walks me out, taking the lead, her arm still wrapped around my waist. Usually I would have already shrugged her off, but I just don’t have the heart. Her motherly side is already surfacing and all I want to do is revel in it. This could either be a curse or a blessing.

We break through the crowd and a rush of cool air slams into us as we step out onto the street. I can already feel the bruise blooming like a rose on my jaw. Marina steps in front of me and stares at my face, her eyebrows knotted together in deep thought. Her face is a healthy glow from the dancing in the crowded club. My ears ring from the ridiculously loud, not to mention horrific, music. I swallow, wishing I had gotten around to ordering a drink. My throat is too fucking dry.

“What happened?” Marina asks, her voice soft and soothing. I want to brush her off but can’t. She’s looking at me with such concern, I want to milk it but I won’t. I’m not that damn pathetic. I don’t want to tell her what happened. I don’t want her to know I lost my temper over her.

“Had a little row. It was really nothing.”

She doesn’t buy it and she gives me a look making sure that I know exactly that. I couldn’t really be arsed about it right now. I’m knackered and my face is throbbing.

“Your place is closer, we’ll go there and put some ice on that,” she says, pointing at my jaw. I don’t want her in my apartment again, but she latches on to my arm and begins pulling me down the sidewalk at a frantic pace. She’s determined and I don’t waste my breath in telling her that I can take care of myself.

At some point during the walk, I manage to get out of her grip, keeping my distance from her. Reaching the front door of my store, I pull out my keys and unlock it, holding it open for her. I wait for her to step in and after she does, I follow and lock the door behind me. I accidentally hit the back of my hand against the doorknob and bite my lip to keep from cursing. Flexing my hand, I watch the blood surface before dropping my hand to my side. Looking up, Marina is already waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. I sigh, hating everything about this.

I follow her up the stairs, finding it impossible to focus on anything but the way her hips move while climbing stairs. She’s going to fucking kill me. I should have gone first. She stops in front of the door and I have to reach around her to unlock it, my arm pressed flush against her side.

Pushing the door open a little harder than necessary, it slams against the wall and I grimace, hoping it didn’t leave a mark. One thing I am not into, destroying where I live. I’m craving a smoke, Marina would have a fit. I think I’ll avoid that for now. She heads straight for my kitchen, asking where my dish towels are and if I have any ice packs. I tell her where she can find everything and shut the door, my only thought is the couch. I throw my weight down, falling into the most comfortable piece of furniture I have ever experienced. I shut my eyes and relax, my head against the back of the couch. I spread my legs out in front of me and listen to Marina move about my kitchen. She gets a dish towel and I imagine her wrapping an ice pack in it. She walks towards me and sits beside me, the couch dipping, forcing us closer together. Opening my eyes, I stay staring at the ceiling and don’t say anything when she softly touches the wrapped pack to my jaw.

“I’ve never pictured you hitting someone.”

I have no idea what the hell she means by that. Whether or not she’s disgusted by it. It honestly doesn’t matter. Actually, it would be better if she were disgusted.

“He must have really got to you. Are you going to tell me?”

I take the ice pack from her and sit up, my elbows on my knees and hold it to my face. I’ve been in my fair share of fights. Back at the club, that wasn’t a fight. That was just a friendly exchange. I’m barely bleeding. I hold the pack to my knuckles and turn my head to look at her. Her hair is tousled and she took her coat off at some point, her shoulders bare in a sleeveless top. She’s so fucking beautiful.

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Author's Note: It's been a while. Sorry to everyone for the delay. I've just been such a writing slacker lately regardless of my reading. It's been extra frustrating because I know exactly what I want to write. Writer's block is not a problem. Writing in general is the problem. I hope this addition was enjoyed and I hope to get the next chapter out soon. I can't make any promises. But I do know that next week, starting on the 24th, the updates will get farther apart. I'll be starting school and I'm taking a bunch of classes that will demand attention. Not to mention that two of them are writing classes. I'll see how that goes I guess. But I'm sure I'll get out a lot of stuff I'll like and will probably be putting them up for reading.

I'm very pleased that everyone seems to enjoy Callum. I've been trying to convey the idea of an accidental hero I guess. As usual, read and most definately review. Thank you so much to those of you who are taking the time to write reviews. I really appreciate it.