KING: A Daddy's Best Friend Romance

“Um, no,” I answer, confused. Why is she turning on me like this? Why does she suddenly hate me? I’m not sure what to say, since maybe she has a point. But does she have to address me like this? I would never speak to anyone like that.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” she mutters, shooting me a look like daggers. I try to keep my head. She obviously doesn’t have hers. But part of me wonders if she might be right. “Don’t you have anything to fucking say? Whatever, I’m done with you.” She shakes her head, disgusted.

“Um, I’m not really sure what I did, Kels,” I say carefully. “If I did something stupid, you can tell me. But I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”

“Well, it was my idea to be friends with Britt, and instead you just ran off and started a friendship with her. If you want to be so close with her, I’ll just be close with my other friends.”

“I uh,” I start, my mind reeling. Why is she attacking me? “I uh... thought we were all friends? Like we were all going to be friends together.”

“Well clearly not. Didn’t you go to the movies with her on Thursday?” she demands. The tone of her voice is shrill. “I didn’t get any text messages from you. You didn’t call me. You chose to hold her closer to you. So I am going to do the same. No hard feelings, but bye.”

“Uh, okay,” I barely get out before she spins around and storms off. My hands are shaking, so I stuff them into my pockets, confused. I never suspected she could turn on someone like this. Or more than that, that she could turn on me like this. I am practically her sister for crying out loud. Joined at the hip, and have been for years.

“Kelsey,” I say weakly, but it’s too late. She’s already gone.

Maybe I should have told her that I was going out with Britt. Maybe it was wrong of me not to invite her, but I thought she said she was going to be busy that night. And besides, she has other friends who she goes out with on occasion without me. Sure, I get jealous sometimes, but I figure it’s normal. But apparently she’s allowed to do that and I’m not. That’s how it is, I guess.

Unless that’s not how it is anymore. Now it feels like I’m not even friends with Kelsey. I walk across the common area, trying to avoid the eyes of my schoolmates. Through one of the windows, almost in slow motion, I see Kelsey and Britt talking and laughing. Then Kelsey shoots me another look—an appraising, cold look. Britt doesn’t notice. She has her head thrown back and is covering her mouth like she always does when she laughs hard.

Kelsey slowly turns her head away from me, but her eyes trail me a little longer. I stop in my tracks. Could they be talking about me, laughing at me? If I keep going in the same direction, I’ll have to pass them. And that doesn’t seem the wisest course of action right now. Still, I’ll have to find another way to my calculus class. Kelsey had tested out of it—she was as amazing at math as she was at making me feel like shit today. Fuck it, I’ll just pass her, and that’ll be that.

“Hi Britt,” I say, as brightly as I can manage. “Kelsey,” I add like an afterthought. Who knows how she’ll punish me now?

“Hey!” Britt turns to walk with me and quickly falls in step. “Did you get your calc homework done? See you later, Kelsey!”

“Bye Britt.” The slight emphasis Kelsey gives to Britt’s name lets me know that she is definitely considering ways to punish me. And now I’ll be punished for whatever Britt does too.

I wake up with a jolt, the darkened plane humming with its solid energy. My breath is caught in my throat. I can’t tell if I’d been dreaming, or remembering. Is Kelsey my friend, or my tormentor?

And what is King? The same?

I look around frantically, catching the eye of a passing stewardess. “Yes, Madame. Would you like something?” she asks.

“I’ll get a scotch on the rocks,” I say. “Make it a double.” I don’t know why. I’m not much of a drinker, and I never drink scotch. And I think I heard the double thing from a movie or something. But she just nods, her perfectly coiffed blonde hair not moving.

“Yes of course,” she whisks off to retrieve the drink, and I realize I’m clutching the arms of my chair. I’m totally disoriented. It seems there’s nobody seated next to me to fight for the space, because it’s hard for me to even let it go. I thought it was full, so someone must not have shown up for their flight? But the attendant soon is at my side. She puts the tray table down on the seat next to me with a practiced motion, and hands me the glass. I fumble through my purse and she shakes her head no, meaning that I don’t need to pay. Soon I’m bringing the burning liquid to my lips, the fumes from the drink already searing my nostrils.

Just like it permeates my nose, the alcohol begins to pervade regions of my brain, and I let go of the armrest, and let my head hit the back of the chair again.

I guess I am just a glutton for punishment. I begin to think of King’s hands, how they could creep over me, draw me in, effortlessly, gracefully, like a cat with a mouse. Watching the mouse try to get away is always the greatest thrill, to let it almost out of reach and then to pull it back in and claim it.

That’s how I feel when he touches me, like he’s completely in control, every nerve of my body on fire, needing him as he toys with my affections, my emotions. My body. Teasing each part of me, making me wonder if he would gratify me, or bite me, his lips so close to my skin that the energy field was jumping between us, until they closed on my nipple, and I arched my back pushing myself as near to him as I could. His teeth glancing against the hard nub as his hand reached around and squeezed, hard.

My breath catches in my throat, this time from excitement, happy that he’s claiming me, feeling everything he did to my nipple like a ghost hand on my clit, bringing me close to orgasm without even being touched once. I imagine myself falling over the edge as his knee pushes between my legs, his cock sliding up my thigh.

Then his hand opens his fly, pulling it out, his cock bouncing in eager anticipation, and feeling my skirt being yanked down as he slides between my legs.

But I have to stop feeling this way. This is fantasy, that’s all.

I left Paris. Left King. And left Kelsey, even if she did leave me first. The schoolyard may have been the first place I had given up my strength and my power, and then with King. I’ll be damned if I will ever do it again. I’ll get over this situation on my own.

Maybe I’ll get a dog.

I force my mind to stop thinking about King and

Kelsey and start thinking about a dog. Maybe a big dog. Though that wouldn’t fly too well in Manhattan. It’s time to leave my parents and get a place on my own, though. If I move to Inwood or something, maybe I could live by a park and still be on the subway line to get downtown. I muse about a Bernese Mountain dog. Their friendly but intimidating size is just the perfect animal to snuggle up to and to ward off would-be attackers with. I wonder how much they cost?

It’s nice to know that I have a bit of money coming to me, but I have no idea how much it is. I hope I haven’t blown through it and more already.