Chapter 3

Saturday Morning, 10:50AM – Idiocy Is The Essence Of The Male Mind

This was a bad idea. I should have offered to meet her at the landfill or out in the woods or literally anywhere but here. Shit, if Father comes back...

Will took a deep breath. He’s out golfing with a 10:30 tee-off at a club an hour away. There’s no way he’ll come back to the house this early. Relax. He took another deep breath, forcing himself to release the death grip that his hands had taken on the chair’s armrests.

“Hey Will, whatcha doing? Mom called and wanted to make sure you had a clean sports jacket.”

He spun around in the chair. “Hey yourself. I’ve got one, why? And I’m ... waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” asked his sister from the doorway, wearing a perplexed expression. “And why are you still home? I mean, it’s not like I’m not happy to see you...”

Will ran a hand through his hair. Why indeed... “Rissa...” he trailed off. “It’s complicated.”

Marissa flounced into his room, then threw herself across the foot of the bed. “Sounds like you wanna talk,” she said. “What’s going on, Will? You know I’m a good listener.” She started kicking her legs to and fro off the side of the bed.

Will sighed. “I don’t even know where to start. I’m having someone over.” He checked the large digital clock on the desk. “Soon.”

The younger girl jerked upright and stared at her brother. “What?! Why!” She got up and scurried over, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Will, are you feeling okay?”

“Marissa,” he said. “I’m fine. I just ... didn’t have a choice this time. It’ll be okay, she’ll be gone before he gets back.”

She leaned back, gazing down at him. “Who are you and where’s my brother? Will would never invite someone to come here. Ever. And definitely not a girl.”

Will sighed again, clasping the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I know, I know. I really didn’t want to. You know how much I didn’t want to. But I didn’t have a choice. And I’ll make sure she’s gone long before either of them come back.”

The doorbell rang.

Will stood up. “Can you ... make yourself scarce for an hour or two? This might get messy and I don’t want you to get dragged in. Please?”

She looked at him. “Alright, but you better fill me in after. This is weird Will.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

The bell rang again, impatiently this time.

Will started towards the door, but his sister threw her arms around him and squeezed. He looked down.

“You looked like you needed that,” she chirped, then scampered out of the room.

He walked out of his room, down the hallway, and down a few steps of the staircase before she caught up, carrying a book.

“I’m gonna go read out on the patio. Come get me when it’s safe, ‘k?” She continued on, making for the rear of the house.

“You’re the best, Rissa!” he called after her.

“I know!”

Will reached the front door just as the bell rang a third time. Then a fourth. He unlocked and opened the door. Prez stood out on the front step, watching the door open. The bell rang for a fifth time as she looked at him.

“Hi?” asked Will.

This is a different look. Her hair, normally straight and either free-hanging or styled up onto her head, was a mass of curly ringlets crudely pulled into a ponytail with a black scrunchie. Her outfit, normally stylish and carefully coordinated, was a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Still with the glasses, though.

“Are you going to let me in? {Get out of my way.}” she asked.

“Of course, Prez, of course!” he said, quickly stepping out of the doorway.

She pushed past him, taking in her surroundings. “It’s a beautiful house. {Wow, this is fancy!}”

More like a cage. “Can I get you some water, or a snack, or—”

“I want to see your room. {I want to see where the Will White lives.} Where is it? {Show me.}”

“Er, Prez, I thought maybe we’d go to the sitting room? The furniture is—”

“This way, I guess? {I’ll find it myself.}” she said, ignoring him and heading for the stairs.

“Um,” he said. This is too disconcerting, having her here. He followed after her up the stairs. Damn, even in sweatpants her ass is—

Abruptly she stopped, swiveling around to look at him. He halted, eyes racing up to meet hers just a fraction of a second too late.

Ah, shit. That’s gonna set her off.

Instead, she resumed her ascent. “Left or right?” she asked when she reached the summit.

“Left. Uh ... it’s the third door on the right.”

She turned to the left, not responding to him. They reached the door he’d specified, and she stopped in the entrance, taking it in.

“It’s ... different than I expected.” she commented.

The room was large, with enough room for a queen-sized bed to sit comfortably off to the side with space still remaining for a second one next to it. It was covered, wall to wall, in bookshelves. The only exceptions were the wall directly behind the bed, the double doors to a closet, and a section of wall which was occupied by a small, ornate wooden desk. At the base of the desk lay his backpack, with a utilitarian, antique-looking chair next to it, and his closed laptop rested on top in front of a digital clock.

There were no games, no toys, no clothes. There were no truckloads of condoms, no supermodels hiding under the bed, no posters of partially or fully naked women. He knew what she was expecting to see, and this was not it.

There was nothing superfluous. In this room he had exactly what he needed to survive all the time that he’d spent awake in here.

His books.

“Um,” she said, looking around at the shelves.

He was proud of it, in a way. He’d categorized the shelves, splitting the room into fiction and nonfiction, then further segregating by genre and topic. Each area was properly alphabetized. No book was out of place or off the shelf, nor were there any books stacked horizontally across the tops of any shelves.

Every one of his books was where he could find it at a glance.

Prez stepped inside, still scanning the shelves. “Right,” she said, blinking. She turned back to look at him, the expression on her face complicated.

He watched her with a neutral expression. Yes. This is the room you wanted to see.

She turned back towards the desk. After another moment of looking at all of his books, she walked over and sat in the chair at the desk. “Alright,” she said, again struggling with reality. She looked over at him. “Why don’t you sit on the bed, Will. {This is a bit creepy.}”

She’s a little freaked out. I don’t blame her.

“This is really your room? {Are you trying to fuck with me?}“ she asked.

He walked in and stood at the center of the room. “If this isn’t it, I don’t know where it would be,” he said, staring into her dark brown eyes.

She looked around one more time, then closed her eyes and shook her head. “Alright. Great.” She turned the chair around and looked up at him. “Here’s how it’s going to be,” she pointed to the bed. “You sit there. {Get on the bed.}You will not get off the bed, you will not tell me to do anything, and you will not try to touch me. {Don’t do anything except answer my questions.}This is a trial, so you will tell the truth. {If I find out you’re lying, I’ll kill you.}You will explain why you thought it was okay to blackmail me, and then you will tell me how you found out about my Class. After that, I want to know what Skill you used on me. {Did you hypnotize me?}If I have further questions, you will answer them. {You’re going to tell me everything.}” She folded her right leg over her left and crossed her arms. “Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” he said. He sat on the bed. “Um, you mind if I lay down? I’m still pretty tired from yesterday.”

“Oh? Had a big night yesterday, did you? {Out banging more sluts?}” she asked with a scowl.

“Er, no, Prez.” He looked at her cautiously. “You really wore me out in the morning. I mean, I was pretty out of it the rest of the day.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Enjoyed yourself that much, did you? {Are you fucking with me?}”

This is a trick question. This is definitely a trick question. But what’s the trick? “Yes?” he asked.

Prez paused, thinking. “Hmph,” she said. “Alright, I’ll allow it. {It’s to be expected after being with me.}”

Did ... did she just smile a little? He looked closer before he tipped over backwards. No way, I must have imagined it.

“Thanks, Prez. Now then, where do you want me to start?” He closed his eyes.

“Let’s go back to the beginning. {Monday.}No, actually, before the beginning. And I want a real answer this time: why me? {Why did it have to be me?}I’ve heard the stories, I’ve seen the girls you’ve gone out with, I’m clearly not your ‘type’. {I know you like big-boobed bimbos, not girls like me.}So why? {Was I special somehow?}”

Will chuckled. Fucking Don. I think this is the first time The Legend has really not been funny.

“What’s so funny? {Are you fucking laughing at me?}”

Uh oh, she seems angry. “Ah, sorry, Prez. But you really shouldn’t believe everything you hear, right?”

“You’re saying they’re all lies, Will? {Do you think I’m an idiot?}”

“Um,” he paused. “Some of them might be true?”

“Then let’s play true or false. {It’ll be fun to hear it from you directly.}The time you hooked up with a swimsuit model? {She was blonde and had bigger boobs than me.}”

“True.”

“You and the double-D twins who didn’t speak English? {Also blonde.}”

“The spoke some English.”

“You and the blonde bartender behind the bar?”

“She wasn’t a bartender, she was a hostess—”

“The actress from that soap opera?”

“Aspiring actress. She had just auditioned for the part.”
“But she did get the part?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not like I knew that at—”

“You can see how I might be inclined to believe the things people say about you based on this small sample size? {So you’re admitting I’m not even your type.}” Her tone was frosty.

“I can see that perspective.”

“Let’s go back to the question. Given our brief chat, and what you’ve just admitted, why me? {If I’m not even your type, why did you have to do that to me?}”

She’s really hung up on this. What does she want out of this? Ah, well, she said she wanted to hear the truth.