The Bad Boy Next Door: Lance & Chastity (5 page)

I sigh. This is going to be the theme today: people barging in at the perfectly wrong time to ruin my moments just right.

My luck better change before the day is over or I’m going to do something drastic. Sneaking into Lance’s bedroom later tonight crosses my mind. I just need to figure out how to sneak out of my house without waking Mom. If I were to wake her, I don’t think I’d make it to my eighteenth birthday.

Something tells me it would be totally worth it.

That something is the hungry look Vampire Lance is aiming at me right now…

++++8++++

CHASTITY

“That was quick,” Mr. McKnight smiles two hours later when the U-Haul is empty. “How about I buy everybody pizza?”

The five of us stand in the living room of the McKnight house, surrounded by scattered boxes.

“No need for that,” Mom says. “I can make sandwiches for everyone. It’ll only take a jiffy.”

“How long’s a jiffy?” Lance prods. “I’m starving. Isn’t there a Domino’s a few blocks from here?”

Mom frowns, “I will not have you eat cardboard for lunch.”

“How about Subway?” he offers. “I saw one next to the grocery store two blocks from here.”

“I won’t hear of it,” Mom smiles in a commanding way.

Lance gives me a “
Can you believe her?
” look.

I give him a brief shrug that says “
She’s like this every day and you never get used to it because it’s so annoying.
”

Lance grins at me.

I blush.

“I’ll make sandwiches,” Mom reiterates. “Let’s all go next door and have a proper lunch together.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Mr. McKnight beams.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m sticking red plastic swords into the triangle sandwiches Mom is just now cutting. You wouldn’t think five sandwiches would take forty-five minutes, but with Mom? You already know.

“Has it been a jiffy yet?” Charity groans from where she sags on the window bench at the kitchen table. “I’m starving!”

Lance sits next to her “Yeah,” he chuckles, “how long is a jiffy supposed to be, Faith? I thought it was quick.”

Mom frowns because he’s not calling her Mrs. Shields.

I try not to laugh.

Charity giggles and smiles at Lance, “Mom’s jiffy is at least an hour.”

Lance winks at her, both of them smiling like besties.

Mom glares at him.

Charity openly laughs, obviously egged on by Lance’s approval. “Today I think it’s gonna be more like two hours.” She’s never this disrespectful with Mom.

Mom snipers a warning grimace at her. “Chair-i-teeeee…”

Lance mimics Mom’s singsong tone without actually saying the word. It comes out as “Mmmm-mm-mmmmm.” He doesn’t do it loudly, clearly intending it only for Charity’s ears, but it’s not like this is a mansion kitchen. It’s a standard suburban kitchen and everybody hears him.

Mom steps back from the cutting board, resting her wrist against her cocked hip, the kitchen knife dangling from her fingers. Based on the black look darkening her face, she wants to throw the knife at Lance, but she would never risk hitting Charity with it, or Mr. McKnight. The impending drama in the room is suddenly thick enough to cut with Mom’s kitchen knife.

Lance’s eyes flicker wickedly as he meets Mom’s gaze dead on. He doesn’t look away.

I’m not brave enough to stare Mom down when she’s this mad. Even with my back to her, I can feel the anger pouring off her. I keep myself busy sticking red plastic swords in the sandwiches. If Mom suddenly snaps and goes horror movie with the big kitchen knife, I’m not sure what I’ll do because we all know sandwich swords are useless against serial killer knives.

Lance erupts into rude laughter and leans against Charity like she’s in on the joke with him.

Charity is mortified, her eyes white saucers.

Mom hisses at Lance, “Do you want this sandwich or not? Because you don’t have to eat it, you know. This is my house and my food, and nobody is making you stay.”

Lance smirks, his eyes glimmering. “Gee, Faith. Let me think. I offered to buy Domino’s or Subway an hour ago for everybody. Now I’m way past hungry.” He stands up from the bench, angling toward the doorway.

“Sit down!” Mr. McKnight bellows. His booming voice freezes the room. Even Lance looks surprised. “Show Mrs. Shields some respect.”

I tip my eyes up and meet Lance’s, begging him to stay. Having him here is a wonderful thing. For the first time in my life, I feel like I have an ally against Mom. Sure, Charity is my ally, but she’s more like a sidekick. Lance is the kind of man who can actually stand up to Mom for real.

Lance’s devil’s grin returns. “My apologies, Mrs. Shields.” He’s looking at me as he says it. “I guess I’m getting hangry since I’m so hungry.”

“Hangry?” Charity says.

Mom turns to the counter and resumes cutting sandwiches. “That’s quite all right, Lance.” Not from her tone it’s not. “We’ve all been working hard helping you move everything into your house.” Notice how she’s running a guilt trip on him already? “I should’ve offered you chips earlier. I’m a terrible hostess today. Charity, can you open a fresh bag?”

“I’ll get it,” Lance says.

“No,” she presses, “I asked Charity.” She’s trying to regain control of her kitchen.

“I’m already standing up,” Lance says. “Where are they?”

“They’re in the cupboard next to the refrigerator,” Charity offers.

Mom shoots Charity a look that says “
Traitor.
”

Lance smiles victoriously and winks at me as he opens the cupboard and says, “Charity, you want Ruffles or Sun Chips?”

“Ruffles,” Charity giggles, loving all of this.

Lance opens the bag and holds it out for Mom. “Chip, Mrs. Shields?” It’s not a peace offering. It’s more like Lance is the king and he’s offering his ring to Mom so she can kiss it.

“No, thank you. I’m not quite finished with the sandwiches.” She doesn’t even look at him.

“Suit yourself.” Lance walks over to the table and offers the open bag to Charity.

She gladly shoots her hand into it, crackling the plastic as she claws for chips like a starving person.

Whack!

Mom slams the side of the knife down on the cutting board. “At least put some on a plate, Charity. There’s one right in front of you,” Mom grumbles. “Other people have to eat from that bag too.”

Charity rolls her eyes and obeys, withdrawing her empty hand.

Mom is the only person I know who doesn’t like people putting their hands in her potato chip bags. It’s not like Charity didn’t wash her hands in front of everybody before setting the table twenty minutes ago.

“Let me,” Lance says while shaking chips onto her plate, smiling at Mom the whole time. “That enough?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Charity grins.

Then Lance brazenly reaches into the bag with his hand and pulls out a chip and eats it, chewing slowly while staring Mom down. I don’t remember Lance washing
his
hands before sitting down at the table.

Mom is ready to blow her top, but she holds it in. She’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

I’m loving it.

No one has ever shown Mom up like this.

It’s about freakin’ time.

Chapter 4

CHASTITY

“So, Lance,” Mom says, “Do you work or go to school?”

Lance is obviously irritated by her question and jams the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. “Neither,” he grumbles.

“You don’t have a job
or
go to school?”

Lance smirks, “No. I don’t have a job. Or go to school.”

Mom sets her sandwich down. “Well then, what
do
you do?”

“Whatever I want.”

Mom takes it in, staring at Lance. “To each their own.” As she bites a nibble off her sandwich, the look on her face says, “
I suspected you were a lazy bum based on your disheveled clothing and your total lack of respect for your elders and your absence of common courtesy, but now I know for sure.
” That’s Mom. Nice to your face, a witch behind your back. She fits right in at our church. I hate that place.

Lance’s phone jingles and he pulls it out of his pocket.

“Please, Lance,” Mom says. “No cell phones at the table.”

Lance reads the screen intently, ignoring her.

Mom rolls her eyes and sneaks a glance at Mr. McKnight who is too busy chewing to notice.

“Lance?” Mom says. “Your cell phone?”

“Yeah,” he says absently, still chewing on his sandwich.

“Must you talk with your mouth full?”

He stands up from the window bench. “I have to go.”

“Are you leaving?” I ask, disappointed.

“Yeah. It’s important.”

“Can’t you deal with it later?” Mr. McKnight asks. “We’re all having lunch. Like a family or something,” he chuckles nervously.

Mom says nothing. She wants Lance gone.

Lance glares at his Dad. “It’s important.”

“What could be so important, son? We just got into town. Relax a little.”

“Sorry. I gotta go.”

I almost panic, but remind myself Lance lives next door. I’ll see him again. And again and again. I hope. Because something about his tone has me worried. What could be so important? A girl? A crime spree? It’s impossible to tell with a guy like Lance.

“Thanks for the sandwich, Mrs. Shields,” Lance smirks at her. He barely means it.

Her mouth is full of food. She hastily grabs a napkin and covers her lips, chewing as fast as she can and swallowing loudly before speaking. “You’re welcome.” She’s irritated but trying to hide it.

“See you guys later,” Lance says, walking out of the kitchen, his boots thudding on the hardwood.

I jump from my chair, “I’ll show him out!” I follow Lance to the front door. I have seconds before Mom hollers for me to sit back down and finish my lunch.

Lance opens the front door before I get there.

“Is something wrong?” I whisper.

“Nope,” he smiles from ear to ear. It’s a fake smile.

I knit my brows. “Then what’s the hurry?”

“I’ll tell you some other time.”

And like that, he’s gone.

I sigh and return to the kitchen, disappointed to say the least. I’m surprised to see Mr. McKnight is gone too. “Where’s Mr. McKnight?”

“He had to use the bathroom,” Mom says.

I sit at the table and pick up a triangle of sandwich.

Mom leans toward me and says in a low voice, “Can you believe how obnoxious that Lance is? I’ve never met a more impolite young man. He’s rude, crass, disrespectful and downright—”

“What are we talking about?” Mr. McKnight asks innocently, suddenly standing in the kitchen doorway.

Mom smiles at him like she wasn’t just trash talking his son. “I was just telling Chastity how lucky we are to have two wonderful men like you and your son living next door. Come sit down and have another sandwich.”

Mom is so two-faced.

What else is new?

++++8++++

LANCE

I stride across Chastity’s front lawn toward my house, kicking up divots with my boot heels. I half expect Panty Shields to stick her head out the window and yell at me to keep off the grass. She can suck my dick.

She doesn’t do either.

I don’t know what I was thinking earlier about trying to bang that woman. She’s a total cunt. Fake as fuck too. I don’t know how Chastity and her kid sister put up with her shit because I can’t take another second of it. If I hadn’t gotten that text just now I would’ve bailed anyway.

The Shields’ house is a prison underneath the pleasant suburban facade.

Inside my garage, I jump on my Gixxer and turn the bike around. The second the rear tire hits the street, I crank the throttle and blow down the road doing a half-wheelie. The primal scream of the engine is music to my ears.

When I’m pissed like this and I don’t have a wet and willing pussy handy to take my mind off the bullshit, riding my bike like a maniac is the only thing that helps. Gliding the edge of sudden death on a crotch rocket makes everything else bleed into the background.

I hit fifty before I reach the stop sign at the end of the block. At the last possible second, I hit the front brake hard and the rear wheel lifts a foot off the asphalt in a controlled endo. The tail of the bike floats as I do a slow California roll across the white line at the intersection. I don’t even slow for the two mom mobiles waiting to go through the four-way. I goose the gas and lunge between them.

They honk.

Fuck them.

Other than them, nobody notices me blowing the stop sign because they’re all locked up inside their cookie-cutter suburban dwelling units doing who the fuck knows what. Playing xBox? Jerking off to the Home Shopping Network or Reality TV bullshit? I don’t care. This place is a plastic wasteland. Every house looks the god damn same. The people inside are probably no different. You know nothing ever happens here. I’m half tempted to leave my shit behind and haul ass someplace with more action than this cemetery.

I already hate this place.

I doubt I’ll be here long.

Well, long enough to fuck Chastity.

Something about that girl won’t let go.

++++8++++

CHASTITY

By the time I climb into bed that night, I’m beyond bummed. Lance never came home.

I spent the entire evening in the living room watching The 700 Club with Mom, Charity, and Mr. McKnight. I couldn’t decide what was weirder, that I was watching The 700 Club, which I never do, or that Mr. McKnight was watching it with us. He doesn’t seem like the type, but he seemed happy to sit with us and watch while sipping on his AriZona Iced Tea.

Tonight was the first time there has been a man in the house with Mom. It’s not like they were doing anything, but you could tell they had something going on, even with Charity sitting between them on the couch. Mom was glowing. It was so weird.

Charity thinks Mr. McKnight is totally cool. He is, but my mind was elsewhere. The whole night I snuck glances out the front window looking for Lance until Mom finally asked what I was doing. I made some excuse but I kept listening for Lance’s motorcycle until Mr. McKnight left and everyone went to bed.

Now I roll restlessly under my bed sheet. It’s too hot for blankets. I should be falling asleep, but I can’t stop thinking about Lance and our almost kiss.