Savage Lane (17 page)

Elana went and said something to Riley, probably, “I’m leaving with Owen.” Riley nodded, like she expected this, but she didn’t seem happy about it. Then when Owen passed her she didn’t even look at him, pretending to get distracted. Owen had no idea what her problem was, what he’d ever done to piss her off, but whatever, she was a girl and sometimes it was impossible to figure out what girls were thinking, so why even try?

Then, when Elana opened the front door and Owen was following her out, Dylan rushed over, all panicked and shit, and went, “Hey, Elana, where you goin’?”

“Oh, have to head out,” she said, “but I had an awesome time.”

“Wait,” he said, “can we talk for a sec?”

“She said she wants to go home, dude,” Owen said. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem, loser. You weren’t even invited to this party.”

As he spoke, Dylan had sprayed spit in Owen’s face. It also annoyed Owen that Dylan’s breath smelled like alcohol because it reminded him of Deb.

But it was the word
loser
that really set off Owen.

Owen grabbed Dylan by his Aeropostale shirt, and pushed him up against the door, and then Owen had a flash of Raymond holding him up against the door before and how Owen had wanted to knee him in the balls. Without thinking, Owen kneed Dylan in the balls as hard as he could. Dylan groaned in agony and then, when Owen let go of his shirt, Dylan crumpled to the floor.

Owen pulled Elana along over to his Sentra.

Later, in the car, Elana was talking a lot, complaining about Dylan. Owen wasn’t really paying attention to what she was saying, picking up words here and there—“Asshole,” “So much, ” “All the time.” Then he zoned back in hearing her say, “I mean I know he’s into me, but I’ve told him like a million times I’m so not into him, but he won’t stop trying. It’s like he’s got some kind of problem or something.”

“It’s cool,” Owen said, and he knew she was saying something else, but he’d stopped listening again, too distracted by the rush he’d gotten from kneeing Dylan, and now he was thinking about Deb in the car again.

“I miss you so much, baby,” he said.

“Really?” Elana asked.

Owen had meant to say this to Deb, but he snapped back to reality—having to leave a fantasy really sucked—and said, “Yeah. You’re so hot.”

“I want to touch you and kiss you all over too,” Elana said.

“Wanna park someplace?” Owen asked.

“We can hang at my house.”

“Is your mother home?”

“Yeah, but it’s cool.”

Owen remembered the scene this afternoon at the country club—Deb and Karen having that crazy fight. It made sense that Karen and Mark had something going on. Everyone at the club knew that Karen had been slutting around since her divorce, or maybe even since before her divorce. Owen overheard people talking about Karen and the guys she was with all the time so it made sense that she’d be cool with her daughter bringing a guy back to her place. Like mother like daughter, right?

“Yeah,” Owen said. “Okay.”

On the way there, Elana was doing shit to him—kissing his neck, putting her hand over his crotch while he was driving, telling him how “unbelievably cute” she thought he was.

They parked in the driveway, then went into the house through the garage.

Owen had never been to Elana’s, but had gone past it lots of times on the way to Deb’s. Well, maybe not lots of times, but during the two years they’d been hooking up, he’d go over to her house whenever she was home alone. Like if Mark took her kids into the city, Deb would text him and he’d drop anything and zip over there as fast as he could.

“I’m gonna miss that so much,” Owen said.

“Miss what so much?” Elana asked.

Shit, he had to stop saying what he was thinking; it would get him into trouble if he didn’t watch out.

“What you were doing to my neck before,” he said. “That felt so awesome.”

Yeah, okay, this didn’t really make sense, but it didn’t matter because Elana wasn’t paying much attention anyway. Meanwhile, this made him think about Deb’s neck, how he’d had her hands around it, and how into it she’d been. Right up to the point she let go and was gone, he could see it in her eyes, how she wanted more, how she was
begging
for more.

They went up some steps to the first floor of the house. Damn, it was a lot nicer than Owen’s house. Wasn’t Elana’s mom a schoolteacher? Yeah, something like that. But he didn’t think teachers made enough to pay for a place like this; the place had to be worth more, what, maybe a half a million bucks. But she was divorced so she was probably getting money from her ex too. She had a good set-up going all right.

In Elana’s room, Elana put on some music. Owen didn’t know what it was, had never heard it before, but he said, “Oh, cool, I love this song,” because he knew that was what he was supposed to say.

“I love it too,” Elana said.

She turned out the main light, put on a little lamp on her night table, and then grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed. He should’ve been totally psyched. He had a sexy girl—she looked sexier and prettier in the dimmer orangeish light—all primed and ready to go, but he just couldn’t get into it.

They got totally naked—maybe that would help? He was kissing her, his hands all over her, but it wasn’t doing anything for him because he couldn’t stop thinking about Deb.

“What’s wrong?”

“Sorry,” he said. “Just can’t get into it.”

“Oh.” She sounded upset. “Okay.”

“It’s not you,” he said. “I mean I think you’re hot.”

“Want a BJ?” she asked.

“Nah, it’s cool, I gotta go.”

He got out of bed and started getting dressed.

“Come on,” she said. “I mean, how do you know you won’t feel better in a few minutes? Maybe it’s just, I don’t know, passing?”

She was still talking, going on, trying to get him back into bed with her, and he wasn’t really listening to anything she was saying. Then he heard, “Wanna hang again sometime?”

“Um no, not really,” he said.

As he headed downstairs, he was proud of himself. How many guys would have bullshitted her, said “I’ll text you later” or some shit like that? But not him—no, he was an honest guy,
good
guy, and there were so few good, honest guys left in the world these days.

Downstairs, he heard, “Hello.” It wasn’t a friendly hello. It was an angry, threatening hello.

He turned, and saw Karen Daily near the entrance to the kitchen, hands on her hips. It was funny, he’d never really thought Karen was sexy. She was pretty, yeah, had a nice body, but he’d never really
noticed
her before. But now he saw her in a whole different way, and he wasn’t sure why. He remembered watching her fight with Deb before at the club; did it have to do with that? It was definitely hot, seeing a schoolteacher on the floor, wrestling like an animal, but maybe it was just her looks. Did she do something different to her hair? She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, just a tank top and, what were they called? Gym pants? No, yoga pants, yeah, yoga pants, but she still looked sexy as hell. No wonder so many guys were so into her.

“Hey,” he said, smiling, the way he used to smile for Deb.

Karen was squinting. It was kind of dark, the only light coming from the kitchen.

“Do I know you?” she asked.

Owen was offended. How could she not recognize him right away even in the dim light? She’d seen him all the time at the country club, and even before he’d started working there, at school pick-ups and from just around.

“Yeah, you know me,” he said.

“Wait, you’re the one from the country club,” she said. “You work there, don’t you?”

Owen wasn’t crazy about “you’re the one,” he wasn’t sure what that meant, but he said, “Yep, that’s me. I’m not sure I ever said hi to you before, though. I’m Owen.”

“How do you know Elana?” she asked maybe suspiciously.

“Oh, just from, you know, around,” Owen said.

“No, I don’t know,” she said.

Owen liked the bitchy attitude; it was so hot.

“You know,” he said, “parties, hanging out, school.”

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Do you know how old Elana is?”

“Um, sixteen?”

“You’re too old for her.”

Thinking,
But you’re not too old for me, baby
, Owen said, “Don’t worry, nothing happened.”

“I didn’t ask if anything happened,” she said. “She’s not allowed to have boyfriends over to the house, especially boyfriends who aren’t appropriate for her.”

“You really have to learn to chill,” Owen said.

“Excuse me?” Karen asked.

“I can see it in your eyes,” he said, knowing he was winning her over already. “You’re so stressed out, I can hear it in your voice too.”

He saw her look to her right, at a mirror. So she was insecure—okay, he’d have to remember that, play up to it.

“Are you always this way?” Owen asked. “Or is it because of me?”

“I think you should go now,” she said.

“Seriously,” he said, “do you know how to relax? I mean, I can tell by your arms that you do yoga, maybe Pilates. You’re in great shape, I can see that.”

He knew he was getting through to her. This was the way he always got the woman he wanted—
tell them what they want to hear
.

“And about Elana,” he said, “I just want you to know, I’d never do anything to disrespect you. I thought it was cool with you for me to come by. If I knew it wasn’t I wouldn’t’ve come.”

“It’s okay.” She was calmer now. “I understand, and you’re right I’ve just been a little... agitated tonight, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Thank you for driving her home.”

“No, thank
you
.”

He knew he had her—she was vulnerable, opening up. He reached out and held her hand and he knew, by how she was looking at him, that she felt it too—a connection. Her eyes were saying:
I want you
. No,
I need you
.

Then she yanked her hand away and snapped, “Why did you just do that? What’s wrong with people?” but it didn’t matter because he knew her first reaction had been her true reaction.

“Sorry,” he said. “Goodnight.”

Driving away with Deb in the trunk was as exciting as before but not nearly as sad. After all, it would be so much easier to say his final goodbye to Deb knowing he already had a new GF.

I
N HIS
basement, gasping, into his third set of bench-presses, Mark had an epiphany: yeah, today had been a total nightmare, but everything would work out in the end. He’d been stressed all afternoon, especially about Karen. Things had been kind of weird at the drop-off for Andrew’s pajama party, but now—maybe because exerting energy exercising was clearing his head—he had a much more positive take on things.

Karen wasn’t actually angry with him—that was the bottom line. Yeah, she’d
seemed
angry, but he remembered her once telling him that it was a pattern for her in relationships to have emotional responses when she got upset, and it didn’t mean she had any loss of love.

A relationship
. Pushing through the tenth rep, Mark liked the sound of that.

After downing a bottle of PowerAde he checked his cell and was disappointed there was nothing from Karen yet, but he knew the make-up text would be coming soon. Then they’d probably talk on the phone later, and she’d tell him how excited she was about the idea of he and Deb getting divorced and him being free. Well, she might not come out and
say
she was excited—she wouldn’t do that in the current situation, and risk putting the kids in the middle of it, but the excitement would be in her tone, it would be obvious. She would probably say she was going to stop dating now, implying that she’d wait for Mark, and once the divorce got underway maybe Mark would move out to his own apartment—take a short-term lease—and then he and Karen could actually be together. They’d have to keep it under wraps, of course, they didn’t want people talking, but Karen could start discreetly coming over to his new place, maybe a few evenings a week.