Under the Orange Moon (9 page)

Ben found his bravery; it was easy when he was angry. “I thought you were going to wait until after the holidays to send the papers, Dad.”

Warren paused. “Well, I decided against it. I thought it would be better if you were there with your mother.”

“You could have warned me.”

“Son, I’m skiing with Jackie and her children. I didn’t have time to call.”

Ben sank to his bed. He could have done without that information. His father would take Jackie’s children skiing. He would avoid important phone calls for Jackie’s children, but when it came to his own son, he would dismiss him like garbage.

“Take care of your mother, son.” Warren waited for a few moments. When Ben didn’t respond, he hung up.

After Ben realized he was gone, he threw his cell phone at the wall, shattering it to small pieces that fell to the floor sporadically. The only person that reminded him he wasn’t perfect and made him feel weak,
Warren was the sole source when it came to most of Ben’s outbursts.

From the moment that Ben was old enough to remember, it was drilled into his head that feelings were only a formality in life that truly strong, successful men would do without. It was weak to love, to cry and to show any signs of compassion. A good defense attorney did not have empathy for anyone. A good judge only saw black and white. Ben was expected to live this empty, colorless world according to
Warren. Only then would he be proud.

And his latest encounter with Dylan was just about enough to put him over the edge.
That damn painting
. He didn’t need to say it; he knew exactly who it was in the painting. He wouldn’t dare admit that it turned him on either. With not an inkling of an explanation his mind could seem to come up with, the paint smeared over her face gave him more stimulation than he could handle. He didn’t need her imagination coming to life; knowing that’s how she imagined them together was enough to drive him crazy with lust.

He didn’t mean to say those things to her, and it nearly killed him to watch her walk away from him again. He was getting tired of being the reason for the look of sadness in her eyes. He knew if he chased her it would only have been worse for them both. He contemplated a redeye flight home just so that she could be happy again.
             

Ben looked down at the remnants that used to be his phone. He needed Jonah, someone who would never ask a question, knowing he wouldn’t get any sort of a response. He needed to get ridiculously drunk.

Dylan regretted wearing the skirt she had on. She felt as though she had given Michael the wrong idea again. Only this time, it was her fault and she knew this well. She sat as close to the door as possible, praying the dinner went by quickly so she could get back to her bed and foolishly wait for Ben to come in a fit of jealously. Hopefully this would make him see how capable she was of replacing him. But, she could never truly replace him.

“I’m happy you said yes, Dylan.” Michael smiled as he drove. He glanced over at her a few times, only looking at her eyes, never her legs as Ben did on a regular basis.

“Me too,” she agreed, calling herself a liar in her head.

They pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. Michael shut off the engine and turned halfway. He stared at her for a few moments.

“You look really pretty,” he said sweetly. “Are you ready?”

Dylan nodded and opened the door. She felt relief when she realized he wasn’t going to kiss her like she first suspected. Although she knew that moment did exist for her tonight, she was not thrilled about it. In fact, she feared it immensely. 

As they walked, Michael held her hand and opened the door for her. She felt as though he was putting her on display and, in a way, pretending that they were a couple. She wondered why she was so offended by this and wished she could find some way to enjoy herself.

They ordered their food and sat in silence. The candle glowing in front of them added unwanted romance for Dylan. She seriously thought about blowing it out, but decided against it at the last minute.

“Are you excited for Charlie’s wedding?” Michael asked, making small talk.

“Yeah,” Dylan nodded. “I still don’t know who I’m walking with.”

“Probably me,” Michael answered. “You know he asked me to stand up, right?”

“Yep.” Of course Dylan knew this. She actually begged Meredith not to pair them up, secretly hoping that would leave Ben as her only other choice. She refused to be paired with any of her brothers, the only other options left.

“Who does he have standing anyway?” Michael asked, looking deep in thought. “There’s Brandon, Hugh and Jonah. Who else?”

Dylan sipped from her glass. “Ben,” she just about whispered. “And you.”

“Ben.” Michael rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think he was going to accept.”

Dylan laughed. “Well, he actually hasn’t said yes or no to Charlie quite yet.”

“He’s such an ass,” Michael said, shaking his head. “Why does your family put up with him?”

Dylan felt protective, despite Ben’s undeserving behavior. “Because he’s part of our family, Michael; he’s one of us.”

Michael smirked. “Right.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t want to argue about this, Dylan.” He smiled and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

Dylan pulled her hand back and looked back into the soft glow of the candle between them. She wanted to go home. Stupidly, she wanted to crawl into her bed and wait for Ben’s arrival.

Ben, Jonah and Hugh stepped into State’s bar, the third of their evening pub crawl. Jonah was well aware of Ben’s rage and he knew it was only getting worse from the alcohol. He had not a clue as to why Ben was so angered; he would never give details. One thing was sure for them all: this was going to be an unpredictable evening.

When Ben wasn’t in an ear’s shot, Hugh turned to Jonah, and whispered, “Man, he’s on that tip tonight. I bet you twenty bucks we get into a fight because of him.”

“No deal,” Jonah replied quickly. This would be a losing bet, he knew.

Ben was ready to slam his fist into something and he would soon enough find a reason to accomplish this. He kept his rugged personality in check most of the time. None of his professors or university acquaintances would ever guess he had such a fondness for fighting. He had quite the temper, as a matter of fact.

The few that knew him well often wondered if Ben sometimes enjoyed a good punch in the face. Too many times to count they had witnessed him take the first blow to the mouth. He would almost smile before spitting blood to the ground and then throw his own punch in return. It was like his polite way of fighting, taking the first hit. If someone didn’t know him, they’d think he was crazy. Maybe he was.

Ben ordered shots and looked around anxiously. He continually told himself to loosen up and enjoy the rare night out with Jonah and Hugh. He wanted nothing more than to calm down, but he was well aware that all alcohol ever did was enrage him more. He tried to push thoughts of Dylan out of his head, but it only seemed to irritate him, reminding him she was on a
date
.

“Where’s Dylan at tonight?” Hugh asked, as the three of them sat down. “She wasn’t at Oilies.”

Jonah answered, “She’s probably off painting on a mountain.”

Ben felt his lip curl into a cringe. “She’s on a date with Oilie Olerson,” he grumbled, before taking his shot.

Jonah and Hugh both shot Ben a surprised look. “What?” they asked in unison.

Ben nodded, staring forward and half ashamed at his blatant display of jealousy that he prayed they didn’t pick up on. “He stalked her favorite painting spot today and asked her.”

“Holy shit,” Hugh said with a chuckle. “That’s great.”

“Weed with a boyfriend,” Jonah commented in disbelief. “Pretty cool.”

“One date does not make him her boyfriend,” Ben barked. “It’s just dinner. She could do a lot better than him and I’m sure she has.”

Hugh and Jonah both erupted into laughter.

“What’s so damn funny?” Ben asked, confused.

“Weed? Someone before Olerson?” Jonah laughed again. “Man, she’s never even been on a date before.”

Ben sat up, half curious and the other half elated at the possibility of his Dylan being completely untouched. “Never?”

Hugh shook his head. “She’s never shown any interest in any guy. Ever. Trust me, many have tried, too.”

“Why?” The curiosity side took Ben over.

“I don’t know.” Jonah shrugged. “She’s just always been so free. She’s never even talked about guys. Honestly, I don’t think she wants the hassle of
Brandon and Charlie’s wrath, for one thing, and another, I think she’s too picky.”

“That’s true,” Ben nodded, and sipped his beer. “Brandon and Charlie would be all over that if they didn’t know the guy.”

“But this Olerson thing is pretty cool. Charlie will like that,” Hugh said, bringing Ben’s horrid reality back to life. “She needs a good guy.”

Ben looked away and hid his disgust. Michael may have been a
good guy, but he wasn’t good enough for someone as perfect as Dylan. He imagined his hands on her and nearly became sick with jealousy.

He turned his attention to the other end of the bar and realized there were four girls with his name on them. A perfect distraction, he realized.

He ordered a tray full of shots, the fruity, girly kind that was sure to make these prissy girls’ faces sour up.

“Ladies,” he said, handing each of them a glass. “How are we tonight?”

“Great,” said the only blonde of the group. “We’re just great.”

Jonah introduced them all and waited for the girls to respond with their names. They all eyed one another, snickering as if they knew something the guys didn’t.

“You don’t remember me, Hugh?” a brunette finally asked. “You seriously have no clue who I am?”

Ben laughed. “Only you buddy,” he said, placing his hand on Hugh’s shoulder.

“Oh, like you can talk, ass,” Hugh snapped at Ben, grinning. He turned his head and flashed his white teeth back at the ladies, clearly wishing he had more time to think. “Sure I do,” he lied.

“What’s my name?” she asked, smiling coyly. “Can you at least tell me when we met?”

“It’s on the tip of my tongue,” Hugh said, chuckling in fear. “I swear I recognize you.”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she said, flashing a seductive smile. “It was about a year ago and there was a pool involved. There may have been a blindfold. I’m not sure, though. You were a bit drunk and I was a bit naked.”

Hugh’s eyes lit up as a reminiscent grin spread across his face. He pointed to her and laughed, covering his mouth with his other hand. “Whoa!” he practically shouted. “My midnight pool girl! Didn’t you get arrested?”

“Almost,” she answered with a giggle. “Thanks for bailing on me like that, by the way.”

The girls did their shots and laughed. They whispered into each other’s ears, making Ben want to gag with aggravation. He seriously wondered which one he could see himself taking home, but then realized he wasn’t interested in any of them; they weren’t Dylan.

“Guys?” a voice called from behind them. “
We’re
with them.”

The three of them turned and stood face to face with four guys who looked ready to pounce. They weren’t small men, either. They reminded Ben of four Michael Olerson’s, four football playing meat heads that needed to be taught a lesson.

Ben’s smile widened and Hugh and Jonah didn’t have to wonder what was coming next. They braced themselves and watched as the menacing flicker in Ben’s eye grew stronger and brighter. A door had been opened and Ben was ready with pleasure.

“Not
now
, you’re not,” Ben answered with a smirk.

“Listen, dude, we don’t want any trouble from you. Just walk away and we’ll all have a good night,” the largest of the group said with a warning in his tone.

“See, that’s funny to me. When four guys walk up to me and stand the way you assholes are standing, all tough and shit, that makes me think that’s all you’re looking for.” Ben flashed a grin that wasn’t meant to be friendly.

“We just wanted to let you know that these ladies aren’t alone. That’s all, dude,” said the smallest one, who wasn’t very small, as luck would have it.

Ben took a long sip from his beer and then slammed his shot. “Hey, you know what? You can have the sloppy seconds. I’m pretty sure we’re done with them anyway.”

“How the hell are they your
sloppy seconds?” another one asked with fists at his sides. “You just met them, dude.”

Ben hated being called
dude
. He especially hated the kind of guy that would use that word as many times as they had in the last five minutes. Ben, wanting more than anything to have a good ol’ bar fight, couldn’t back down now.

The three stood and stared at each other, silently giving looks of
are we really going to do this?
Certainly, they all knew the answer.