Chapter 35

“Nope, you look terrible, here let me--”

“You’re not dressing me, Zoë.” I said, sitting her back down. “Besides what do you know about clothes for high school girl bloodsports?”

“Show lots of leg and cleavage,” She was sitting on the foot of my bed, holding her toes as she bounced her knees from up and down. “Panties optional.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ve got the right skirt for that.” I grimaced. “Why did I let this get stupid?”

“Pussy.” Zoë nodded sagely.

“Dean, your girlfriend’s here!” Dad shouted from the kitchen.

“Not X.” Zoë said looking down at her phone.

“Wanda?” I frowned.

“Which girl is it!” My sister shouted in directionless consideration.

“Zoë!” Mom shouted back. She lowered her voice whatever she was saying to the--

“It’s Renée! I was promised dinner!” The girl had lungs as big as her big tits.

“Oh, extra points.” Zoë laughed. “Look, stop being afraid of blue shirts. They’re obviously your best choices.” She texted something rapidly. “I’ll be harassing your cheerleader.”

“Maybe don’t get in trouble with mom?”

“Please,” Zoë scoffed. “I think I can handle myself.”

I didn’t believe her but I did throw on a blue shirt over a black t-shirt. Even my jeans were black. I had never cared about what clothes to wear before I had woken in the box and everything had to be black, white, pink, or blue. I couldn’t even rebel a little with my socks unless I was willing to go green and red with snowmen on them. I wasn’t brave enough to go to Renée with literal bells on.

I forced a smile and headed out to the kitchen.

“Zoë, set the dining room table.” Mom ordered. “Dean you can show your guest to the living room and we’ll call you when food is prepared.”

“Ah, no fair. I’ve got numbers in my phone? Can I booty call out of chores?” My sister smiled around her teasing. Mom didn’t appreciate it.

“Zoë, shut up and get to work.” She grabbed Renée’s hands and smiled. “I’m so sorry for her.”

“It’s alright, she’s not much of a surprise.” Renée looked around my mom’s ear and smiled at me. “I like your shirt, Dean.”

“I did not expect you to come by in that dress.” I appreciated. She stood a little taller than my mom, but that wasn’t hard. Her pale green dress was sleeved and conservative but it fit her body and her body resisted conservatism. She had great legs and there was no one who didn’t see how nice her upper body was.

“Where’s dad?” Zoë asked looking around as she returned to the cupboards for an uncommon fifth plate.

“He went to get a bottle of wine for dinner,” Mom answered. She looked over at me. “I’m sure she wants to see more of the house than the side door and the kitchen.”

“Oh, sorry,” I took Renée’s hand. “Let’s leave the crazy to the help.”

“The help, am I?” Mom lightly smacked my head as I lead Renée into my home. She had super cooled hands. The dining room looked out onto the backyard with the bedrooms to our left and the living room to the front of our house. She pulled my arm when I aimed for my bedroom.

“Living room’s fine, OK?” She forced a smile. I squeezed her fingers and we dropped down on the big couch overlooking our front lawn.

“I’m sorry about today. Wanda’s bonkers but I kinda like her.” I tried to explain myself. She nodded.

“Xiomara didn’t come by?” Renée worried. “Or any of the others?”

“Nah,” I sank back. “I’m pretty sure everyone’s waiting for Connie’s to do something stupid.”

“I don’t want to do anything stupid.” Renée frowned. “I might not go.”

“The advice I got was to go after the girl I wanted,” I rolled my head over my shoulder to look at her. I kept eye contact a few seconds too long. She stared at her fingers drumming on her knees. “I do like you all though. I never thought I’d be the one making the choices.”

“Why not? You’re h-good looking. You seem ready for this.” She worried. “I’m too insecure and I don’t want to find out if you’re a player or not.”

“I’ve got what? You, Wanda, Connie and Xiomara in some sort of--what she’d call it?”

“The Dick Olympics.” Renée burned red. I smiled.

“Yeah, I mean, I’d love to try something like that.” I smiled. I thought of the girls in the box. I could do that whenever I wanted, provided nothing woke me up. I’m pretty sure there’d be some lasting damage though. I frowned. “But I don’t want to ruin a good thing with any of you.”

“Really?” She stroked back her hair and smiled.

“I’d ruin shit with Kia,” I grinned. Renée beamed. Zoë stuck her head around the corner.

“Dad has wine, you gonna need roofies for your date, bro?” She beamed.

“He’s not going to need them,” Renée’s face lit up like a match as she saw our facial reactions to her words. “I meant, you’re not an asshole.”

“Nope, for the moment he’s pork roast and mashed potatoes.” My sister snarked. “You can make him an asshole after dinner.”

“What?” Renée freaked.

“I’m saying he is what he ea--Mom! Ow my ear!” I had never seen that punishment before. Mom walked up to my sister grabbed her ear and dragged her into the dining room. I looked at Renée. She looked at me.

“Serves her right.” Renée laughed.

“Agreed,” I stood up. “We had better go, if I don’t pull out your chair and treat you like a princess, Mom will put me through boot camp again.”

I stood up and took both of her hands as I pulled her to her feet. She let me hold her hip and not her hand this time. Dad was pouring red wine for him and mom. I usually sit opposite Dad but Zoë had that seat putting me next to Renée and across from Mom. I held the chair and got her thank you.

“You’re welcome to a glass with dinner if you like Renée,” Dad said.

“I’m driving,” Renée answered in the negative. I reached across the table to grab the platter and start plating everything. It smelled so good. I could tell from Zoë’s eyes, we had the same thought. We didn’t get cooked anything in the box. She was salivating like I was.

“Dean, would you like to say grace?” Mom asked me.

“Why? It’s not Christmas and Grandma’s not visiting.” Zoë interjected.

“Oh,” I put the plate down. “She’s trying to show off for you.”

“Me? Why would--” Renée mumbled. “It’s OK. You don’t have to for me. It’s not really something we do at home either.”

“OK, well, Zoë put your phone away while we’re eating at least.” Mom looked cheated and that extra was directed at my sister...

“No can do, Xiomara’s gone full scaredy cat. Someone has to kick her in the sweet Latin a--”

Mom snatched Zoë’s phone and tossed it through the open door and into the kitchen. It landed on the counter under the microwave but skidded off and fell onto the floor.

“Mom!” Zoë shot up. She sat back down and looked to Renée. “I’m sorry.”

“Why is this about me?” Renée shrunk her shoulders. I spoke only in wordless gestures. I overfilled her plate.

“Because, we love our boy and we want to see what great taste in women he has.” Dad took the platter of pork from my hands. Zoë passed me the bowl of mashed potatoes.

“I’d like to see that too.” Renée smiled up at me. Guilt kicked me in the ribs. “One scoop is fine, Dean.”

“Oh,” I said, looking over at Zoë and Mom’s mostly empty plates. They never ate that little. They didn’t pile up like Dad and me, but...

“Learning the secret, eh?” Dad said taking the bowl from me. “Now you’ll know what to do if you want seconds.”

“Fourths, even.” I agreed. Zoë passed me the gravy. We started eating. My parents proved cool and not psychotic like I had expected out of mom after smuggling Pat out of my room in the middle of the night.

I blinked. I was super tired and it was the first time I had thought of that. I looked to Zoë. She was the walking dead too but there was nothing putting her down. Renée’s phone chirped.

“I’m sorry, Mrs Baxter.” She yelped as she pulled it out to silence it.

“That’s no worries,” Mom smiled, “It’s just an interruption. Is everything OK?”

“It’s my best friend, Connie, she’s checking in on me.” Renée showed me the phone. “Chased out rents. Wanda’s here with sluts. Get dean here now!”

“I’ve been meaning to get back in touch with her dad.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, honey,” Mom roboted at Dad. “Smart. If I had texting when I was dating, I’d have had my friends checking in on me too.” Mom smiled in a way I was more accustomed to Zoë smiling. “Send her this. ‘I write this of my own free will. I am not kidnapped. I am not in a box to Shanghai. I will all of my personal belongings to Dean Bartholomew Baxter.’ See how she responds.”

“I, uh,” Renée frowned. “I don’t take dictation well. Can I take Dean out tonight?”

“Yes you may.” Mom made her flinch with the grammar thing. “You may want him to change his shirt. Though I never kept up with the trends, maybe gravy is in?”

“Crap.” I muttered looking down at the drips my shirt had caught. Renée showed me the screen again. She was about to reply: “Almost done eating, be there soon.”

“Do you kids want some apple crumble?” My eyes shot up at to Mom. She hadn’t baked in ages. I leaned over into Renée’s ear.

“Soonish.”

“Pull over there, OK?” Renée had me drive her car under the shade of some trees before the turn off up to Connie’s. She was in the process of pulling her arms up her dress’s sleeves. I had found the practice distracting to the drive. I looked up and down the street loathe to share this moment with passersby.

Her long legs were mostly tanned but I could see from, her revealed panties, she favored shorts noticeably larger than her thong. She pulled her dress up off of her shoulders and tossed it in the backseat. I reached over and, gingerly, dragged her bra cup back into place.

“Hey thanks,” She said absently. There was a bag behind the driver’s seat. She grabbed it. Stuffed herself into a pair of shiny shorts and dragged out a low-cut red t-shirt. She flashed her head over and I almost had the wherewithal to look up to her eyes. “Oh my God! You just saw my boob!”

I snapped my head up and watched her laugh. She was red as a beet. I have never actually seen a beet. If they were as red as Renée, they’re pretty red. She flicked me in the nose.

“I actually like the dress and you seemed to like it too.” She said. I nodded. “But, Connie would be ragging on me if I didn’t try a little.”

“You don’t have to try much at all. Jesus you’re hot!” I grinned. She had a big toothy grin that fell away after a thought.

“Can you drive us up the block now?” She asked. I nodded. I took a long deep breath before I put us into gear and turned left up the hill. We pulled into the driveway. There were already a couple of cars here I recognized: Kia’s mom’s Ford and Elizabeth’s little Volvo. It was probably one of her parents but I wasn’t certain. Renée cleared her throat.

“You OK?”

“No, my handsome date isn’t opening the door for me. You gunning for another run in boot camp again?”