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Deanna snorted, "Good. Remote's mine." She fell into the newly open corner of the couch. It was the best spot, directly in front of the TV and right under the vent of the perpetually running air conditioner. There was a standing rule that whoever nabbed the coveted spot got the remote. Austen was the one who started the rule, which was never really enforced since Deanna worked all night and slept most of the day.
"You mind if I change it?" Deanna asked.
"Go ahead," I waved absently at the TV and crossed my arms. "I'm not into ironic commentaries on violence in modern society."
Deanna commenced channel surfing. It was late and there was nothing on except cable movies already in progress and re-runs of old sitcoms.
We could hear Austen's music creeping up from the hallway. I nodded my head, singing along to Cult of Personality. I loved the guitar hook. During the second chorus, I turned to Deanna.
"Is it okay if I go listen to music with Austen?"
My question was met with her easy smile. "Go ahead." Deanna stopped the clicking the remote, settling on an old episode of M.A.S.H.
I smiled, casually lifting from the sofa. "Thanks."
"And close his door, would you? I don't need that noise."
"But it's Living Colour." I reasoned, sounding slightly disagreeable, as if closing his bedroom door might impede my listening capability.
Deanna scanned the dim room and gave a wide wave towards herself, gesturing to her dark skin. "I got plenty color."
I hummed my way down the hall, glancing into Angels' room as I passed. She was wearing headphones and dragging a blanket into her closet. I stopped for a moment, waiting for her to notice me. I assumed she'd look on quizzically and then I'd give an exaggerated wink before dancing into Austen's bedroom. But that didn't happen. She just sat on the floor of her closet and curled her knees to her chest.
I continued on to Austen's room and closed the door behind me.
"What are you doing?" Austen asked, wide-eyed, from where he sat on his bed. He held an open binder on his lap. It looked like I was interrupting him trying to study.
His eyes were wired with surprise, but followed my hands as I slid them down my hips, along my thighs.
Austen's cheeks flushed. His eyes darkened. "You're pure evil."
The temperature in the room shot up, like the earth suddenly shifted closer to the sun. I almost told him he could call me Sheila if he wanted, but decided to lift my skirt up around my waist instead.
"You might even be the devil." Austen whispered, closing the binder.
I was on him before he set it on the bed side table.
+++
It was almost like I never left. I was back in the living room, my curiosity-and only my curiosity-satisfied, just as the ending credits of M.A.S.H began to roll.
"Back so soon?" Deanna smiled and patted the cushion beside her.
"Yeah, Austen's taste in music is terrible."
She chuckled. "I tried to warn you."
29
-Avery
I was not taking anything that wasn't offered.
He never loved me. Matter of fact, by the end I'm sure he hated me. Truth be told, Jake only responded to what I did; Angel was the one he pursued.
Part of me understands why she hates me, but another part is still unsure why it bothered her so much. All things considered; we were best friends. We shared everything.
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