100: Help

     My normally-peaceful spot isn't peaceful right now as I alternate between pacing back and forth and sitting to brood over what just happened.

     I left no doubt in Bernadette's mind as to what she should do tomorrow during the trial.

     All that time, I really did think she was nothing but crazy! Now, I feel every bit like the asshole she accused me to be. She's not any crazier than the next person, maybe a little odd, but her only problem is not knowing how to deal with what life throws at her and choosing the wrong way to do it when it does.

     And now, she's going to claim Simon screwing her was consensual and she wasn't pressured at all.

     Why couldn't I just get her to listen to me? Why couldn't she see that she didn't have to let him do that? Why can't she see that she didn't deserve to be treated that way?

     Why did I have to 'fess up and tell her that Marie and I never broke up? Sure, I didn't say we had, but I also didn't give her any indication that we hadn't. Why couldn't I get the job done without giving her that false hope? Why couldn't I walk out of there with her still thinking that Marie and I had broken up? I'd made her think that all I needed was time to get over her. Why couldn't I just let her think that for the next twenty-four hours?

     I sit down again.

     Because that would be wrong.

     I look to my left and see the sun setting. I hadn't realized it was this late in the afternoon, so I quickly get up and make my way back to Martha before it gets too dark to see properly. I don't want to miss a step and fall off the narrow trail on the cliff.

     Marie's probably called wondering where I am… and of course I didn't answer because my phone is busted into a million pieces. I quicken my pace when I think how she might be worried I haven't shown up yet. I'd promised to meet her at the bar, which is almost finished.

     "Jesse!" Marie breathes like a loud sigh of relief when I show up at Bryce's bar. Her little arms fly around my neck, and I circle mine around her while guilt rips me to shreds.

     Let me just… hold you for a while before you want to wring the neck you're hugging right now. I know I won't stop from telling her, telling all three of them, what I just did.

     "Why didn't you answer your phone or call me back?" my beautiful girlfriend asks me.

     "Because my phone is nothing but dust now," I answer and breathe in the apple cinnamon scent of her hair.

     "Why? What happened?"

      A romantically-thwarted woman smashed it down onto the tiles and then ground it under her foot.

     "I did something I thought would help but turns out to be something that was incredibly stupid," I answer verbally.

     "Close the door; this isn't a barn," Bryce says gruffly, passing me and closing the door.

     Normally, I might tease him about sounding like an old man, but circumstances being what they are, I don't. "I need to talk to you," I tell him, my voice starting out raspy. I clear my throat.

     "What's up?" he asks, his hands on his hips.

     Marie looks down at the floor and mumbles about going to go talk to Erin about something. I suspect she wants to get away from Bryce, and I wonder if something went on while I was off being a dumbass.

     "No, wait," I tell her. "You need to hear this too." Her gorgeous eyes look up at me with a cross between surprise and worry. "And where's Erin for that matter?"

     "She's upstairs helping Adele with her homework," Bryce answers, his hands still resting on the sides of his hips.

     "I'll go get her if you want," Marie offers quickly. Bryce ever so slightly glares at her. Uh oh.

     "Okay," I tell her and let her escape like she looks like she's desperate to do.

     The second she disappears, Bryce turns to me to harshly whisper, "Desmond was just here. Marie still refuses to acknowledge what really happened."

     I groan and put my head in my hand. He's already in a bad mood about this.

     Erin doesn't take long coming down the stairs, but Marie takes her time. Finally, we all go sit at the couches to talk. Marie sits at the bar, getting as far away from Bryce as she can yet still remain in the room.

     "So what is it?" Bryce asks to get the ball rolling.

     "I just did…something that's probably very stupid." To the agitated, deep breath that Bryce takes, I continue, "I went to Bernadette's house to try to convince her not to side with Simon."

     "What did you do?" he asks with something between a gasp and a growl.

     "Well, I got her to admit that Simon did harass her all that time, but then she caught on that I wasn't over there for what she wanted and discovered my phone recording everything she said. I need to buy a new phone. She's, um, pissed."

     A huff escapes Bryce as he puts his hand up to shade his eyes. He can't remain still where he sits, so he gets up and starts pacing.

     Marie speaks carefully as she asks, "Wasn't there for what she wanted?"

     I debate groveling at Marie's feet to beg her not to get angry. "She thought we'd broken up and that I was over there to-" I see Adele standing in the hallway.

     Bryce sees her too and says brusquely, "Adele, go upstairs for a little while."

     "I came down here to get a bottle of water, and why do I have to go upstairs?" she asks, her voice sounding at once innocent and accusatory.

     "Because I said so!" he roars, his temper snapping like a twig under the weight of an elephant.

     "Bryce!" Erin barks at him, and Adele pouts as she turns to head upstairs. Erin glares at Bryce before walking past me to follow Adele.

     A very frustrated noise escapes my best friend while he puts his hands over his face. When he removes them, he looks at Marie and me wildly before stomping over to the bar and grabbing a set of keys. "Tell Erin to take the Audi, that I'm going swimming." He exits the bar. Then, we hear him pounding down the stairs and starting up Erin's scooter.

     "She thought you wanted her and that's why you were there," Marie states in a daze, not looking at me.

     "Nothing happened, Marie," I tell her quickly. I further explain to Marie about when Bernadette had tried to blackmail Bryce to get him to set me up with her and how I wouldn't do it.

     "So, she wants revenge and is getting it via Simon," Marie states.

     "Looks that way. Nothing was going to happen. I just guessed that I might be the only one she'd admit anything to."

     "Because you know she has feelings for you, so you played on those feelings."

     Preyed on, yes, I mentally correct her. "I hated doing it, even to a bitch like her."

     "I need to go home," Marie says quietly and gets up to leave.

     "Baby, no, please. Please don't be upset with me," I beg as I hop up to stand in her path.

     "I don't know if I am; I only know I need to get away from here. Bryce is mad at me. You… you acted to another woman like you were going to betray me."

     "She thought we'd broken up."

     "You let her believe it!" She snarls through clenched teeth.

     "I didn't walk out of there before telling her I'm in love with you. That's what pissed her off." I might be hyperventilating. I don't know.

     "Oh?! So it's my fault she's pissed off?!" Her voice raises.

     "No! It's mine!" I cry out and wrap my arms around her. She angrily breaks my hold and walks closer to the door. So, I try again. She throws my arms off her. I try another tactic: I wrap one arm around her waist and use the other one behind her knees, lifting her into my arms.
     She growls and threatens, "I could poke out your eyes since your hands and arms are busy!"

     "But you won't," I state knowingly before carrying her out of the bar.

     "I could rip your ears from your head with my teeth!" she snarls and struggles against my hold of her.

      "Creative." Sand shuffles under my feet as I carry her to my car.

      "I could punch your throat so that you'd have to fight to breathe, and you'd drop me to clutch at it."

     "I'll keep that in mind," I say with false calm, hoping she doesn't mean to do anything she threatens.

     "Let go of me, Jesse!"

     "Not gonna happen."

     "I don't want to hurt you, but I want you to let me go home!" Her hands ball into fists.

     "I don't want you to hurt me either, but I'm not putting you down until I put you in the car."

     "You think you can manage me?" she asks what feels like out of the blue. "Hell no! If I say I want to leave, I leave, dammit!" Her voice mimics my accent as she says the swear word.

     We've arrived at Martha, so I put her on her feet and hurriedly kiss her. She punches my rib, but I do my best to ignore the mild pain. She growls when she discovers that punching me didn't make me let go.

     I move to her neck so I can beg while I kiss her, "Don't leave, ma chéri Marie. Je t'aime. Je t'adore. I'll miss you too badly."

     "You could always go to Bernadette," she says, sounding like she's fighting tears.

     "Bernadette has a major problem, though. She's not you," I tell her and kiss her sweet mouth again.

     I love this woman, every bit of her, even the part that wants to beat the shit outta me. Damn, she's so fucking perfect. I want to spend the rest of my life with her, and I feel like it'll be years instead of a few weeks when I can finally talk to her father. It may be old-fashioned, but I'm sure he'd appreciate it…if he doesn't kill me first.

     She pulls back to ask in a hurt voice, "Why did you have to do that, Jesse?" I assume she means go and talk to Bernadette.

     "Because I thought I could help my best friend. Turns out I was wrong." I reach up to pet her face. "Come over to my house."

     "You know I have problems with trust, and you did that," she says, continuing with her accusations and ignoring my request.

     "I absolutely had no intention of ever letting anything happen with her except talking, and I didn't actually lie, and I never betrayed you. I wish I had the recording to prove it."

     I gently kiss her forehead. "Don't go back to your place yet," I plead once again.

     "You could come with me…" she offers very quietly.

     I take in a happy breath. "You had me at come," I tell her with a smile, and she groans out a laugh while resting her head on my chest.

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I'm trying to get the updates closer together. I keep getting distracted by my legacies. Speaking of which, I started a wishacy staring my 3 favorite sims. It's just commentary-style.

The next update will take a little work. I'm digging myself out of the hole I created unknowingly in the plot. I have a few poses to make (story of my life) unless someone can tell me where to find good swimming poses? Like, the breaststroke kinda stuff, skilled swimmer not the crap the game does.

92: In There Somewhere

Erin

      I give Bryce a look when I get back to the house that he'd better interpret as 'get inside; we need to talk.'

      "Got tired of being the third wheel?" Bryce asks me belligerently as he walks behind me in the hallway to the kitchen. He'd been outside helping Adele with a lemonade stand. Adele wanted to start it yesterday to distract herself from thinking about Pam, but she also wanted to help with watching Jeremy. Pam got released from the hospital last night, and Simon came by this morning wanting to pick up his baby boy. Pam is doing much better; she's just very tired.

       I fantasize about smacking Bryce's smart-aleck mouth. Remembering what Marie told me over the phone, I say, "From what I've heard, you seemed to enjoy it." I finally turn to face him since we've entered the kitchen.

       Bryce grins wickedly and leans up against the dishwasher with his arms folded in front of him. "Depends. If the chick was hot enough, yeah. We'd take turns." He grins wider when he sees my blush that I can't stop from happening.

       "You… you did…" I can't finish because I can't raise my jaw for a long enough period of time to speak. I don't know what I expected, but I don't think I expected him to admit it outright.

       "What? I'm not going to lie. That could come back and really bite me in the ass, so yeah, I did enjoy it." He rubs the back of his neck and watches me closely.

       The way he looks at me causes my insides to clench tight as he straightens from leaning against the stove. He looks so hot. He takes a few, slow steps toward me. I still can't pick my jaw up.

       "Why are you surprised? Why is this so hard to believe? None of this should shock you," he says, and I jump when he reaches a hand up to stroke my cheek.

       I force the wheels in my head to start turning again. "The bra thing was actually kind of funny in like a college frat party kind of way, but…"

       "I read your book, Erin, so don't go trying to play the innocent on me," he says quiet and low.

       "Writing and doing are two very different things," I offer as a comeback.

       He squints and tilts his head as he tries to figure me out. "If you can write about it, then that kinky-as-shit person is in there somewhere."

       I wish I could keep myself from shaking. I know he can feel it now that his arms surround me like a cage.

       "Chill," he says and quickly kisses my parted lips. "I'm only saying don't be surprised. Oh, and don't go thinking that I'll do that with you. Like hell am I going to share you."

       "I wasn't quite thinking that. I'm just trying to picture it in my mind."

       "Getting ideas?" he asks with a mischievous grin.

       I playfully hit him. "It's like seeing another you. I mean, I knew, or I should've known."

       His fingertips lovingly stroke my cheekbone, and I feel it all the way through the bone like a pleasantly warm massage. "Should've known? I'll tell you anything you want to know."

       My head shakes quickly as I try to clear my mind. I have to ask. As he says, I do have a creative imagination. All kinds of scenarios play out in my head in a matter of seconds, and I have to know. "Did you sleep with Jesse?"

       "No," he answers me evenly, and his hand continues its journey across my face.

       "Bryce," I gasp, not able to focus on anything else anymore, "your hands…" How do I tell him this? How do I tell him I think he has some kind of 'love touch'? I don't think Bryce is a 'freak after a long line of witches' like he told me.

        His brown eyes smile at me warmly, and I want to drown in them. "What about my hands?" His voice vibrates like he said it inside me.

        I've felt this before, this feeling like he's touching me deeper than my skin, but now it's gotten more powerful. How?

        All he's doing is touching my face, and I wanna rip his clothes off.

       "Daddy, I had my first customer!" Adele says happily when she walks into the kitchen. "They gave me a whole simolean!"

      Bryce turns around and beams down at his daughter. "Awesome! We'll have to frame it. If you want, that is."

       "Yes! Can we do it now?"

       He chuckles. "Then what about the rest of your stock? It'll all go bad if you let it sit there too long."

       Adele's drink stand faces outward towards the beach. I know the businessman side of Bryce is busting his buttons with pride.

       He turns back to me, quickly kisses me, and takes Adele's hand as they go back outside to work on her stand some more. I hold onto the counter for support, still not recovered.

Jesse

       I walk into my still-very-empty house after Erin drops me off.

       I'd better find something to do and fast.

      I decide to work in my office for a little while. There are things I could get done, but they're not urgent. I suppose I could do them now. Anything to keep from thinking about Marie.
      Back at her house earlier, I'd decided that I really need to back off. Marie attacks when she feels threatened, and she felt threatened by me just being there. Damn, that hurts.
     I deserve it. I really fucked up.
     Okay, so I'll totally back off and keep things as simple as an ordinary beginning relationship.

       The next day, I go to work. Business goes great, and I love that I can immerse myself into my job and not think about Marie… until I think about the fact that I'm not thinking about her.

      Simple. Simple simple simple. I can do simple. I don't have to be attached at the hip to her.

      Can I call her today? I ask myself before deciding that it's too early to call her.

      My phone shows no missed calls or texts. Obviously, she's doing better with this beginning-type relationship.

      She could call me. Text me. Come by for a visit! But I don't want to push her anymore.

      Coming home from work three days after my fight with Marie, I see from my bedroom window her scooter parked next to Erin's. I curse quietly because I'd planned on calling her right now, but I don't want to interrupt her time with her friend.

      While I make myself some dinner, I frequently look over at Bryce's house to try and see if Marie has left yet. I can't see as well from downstairs as I can from upstairs, but I do make out the upper part of her handlebars.

      I sit facing his house. She's in there somewhere, probably eating dinner.

      There's always New Year's…

     At nine o'clock, I call her. She sounds stiff and distant… and hurt. I refrain from asking if I can come over. My arms ache to hold her, but I know I have to keep my distance for a while. This will work. This can work. This is what she needs. She needs to get over what's-his-name without some idiot doing crazy shit to her.

     "What are you doing New Year's Eve?" I ask, and I get a song in my head.

     "Erin and Bryce have invited me to their house, but I won't go if you'd rather be there instead," she answers, stabbing me. She doesn't want to be there if I'm there too.

     Of course, I've forgotten all about how I'd told her I don't want to be around her for a while because it hurts too much. All I can think about is how she sounds like she doesn't want to be around me.

     "Oh," I say, trying to sound calm and in control, "I don't want you to have to change your plans if you don't want to. I can always go hang out at Hurricane. They usually throw a huge party. Bryce does too at The Flamingo, but of course, not this year since it's closed." Am I rambling?

      "It's opening sooner than expected," she tells me.

      "Nice," I say and clear my throat. Crap. Then you'll be working nights. I know you will. You'll be head waitress.

      "Mhm," she agrees, sounding like Erin for a second, "and Bryce has asked me to help hire a few new people soon. Though what good I'll do, I don't know."

       I take a deep breath, but it doesn't fill the hole inside me. "He probably wants your input since you might be helping to train them." At least we're talking.

       "Moi?" she asks with a little laugh, and I hold my phone with both hands at the sound of it. I miss you! "I only worked there a few weeks."

       "And you were awesome." Oh god, this small talk is going to kill me! I scream in my head at the little pause in conversation.

      "Are you… okay?" she asks in a careful voice.

       Only because I know you need this. I shrug as I stand here to help out my act as I say, "Yeah. Sure." Well, technically I'm healthy with no outstanding debt. I have a great job that I actually like when it doesn't come to the paperwork. I have great friends. When you take all that into account, it's not a lie.

       Another long, awkward pause occurs as I tell myself not to beg to come over.

       "You should go to Bryce's on New Year's Eve," she says quietly, and I read that as 'Come because I want to see you but with Erin and Bryce as a buffer.'

      I smile a real smile, and it feels strange. "Okay," I say happily. At least I'll get to see her.

      Our phone conversation doesn't last too much longer, and we hang up after wishing the other one goodnight.

      I go to Bryce's on New Year's Eve, and Marie doesn't show, not even after Erin calls her and tries to talk her into it.