Page 80 of Bad Intentions

The rest of the house guests were either obliterated drunk or high. Dougie suddenly materialized out of nowhere and made a move on me. Not the first time, but that night I was tipsy and simmering in the jealousy and self-misery of being left behind.

He was intimidating. A bully. But I wanted to see what Al saw in him, see what all the fuss was about. Or maybe I just wanted to gloat at the thought that I’d have a piece of something Al thought was hers.

So I let him have his way that night.

The moral of the story comes in three parts.

One, Dougie Hartzel was sloppy seconds—the type that made it obvious the main dish had sucked, even when served hot. Quite awful in bed, not that I had anything to compare him to. What he considered fun reminded me more of insect mating. Same visual.

Two, he started blackmailing me into doing it again, used it to bully me. Even when he and Al got back together again.

“What if I tell Al?” he taunted me with that smug grin on his face. “How would she feel if she found out that her little sidekick blows her man?”

“Man” was an overstatement, but I went along. In his truck, in his cabin, at his house—yes, his place, where he would take Al.

My third point is that despite the disgust I felt for him, I did gloat. After all, he came back to me even when he dated Al again. She obviously didn’t give it up often enough. Or maybe I was better at it. Every time he came—pun intended—a spiteful satisfaction coiled inside me that she was getting my leftovers now.

Screw mean girls.

When Derek showed up in town, Al’s eyes lit up at the new candy. I knew the cycle would repeat itself. There’d be another adventure, a game of seduction, secrets from their current boyfriends, rivalry, cheating, a fight always following. I’d be the intermediary who’d get all the shit and drama. But eventually, when they made up, I’d be Know-Your-Place-Birdie again.

The first time I talked to Derek was at Ma Shirley’s.

The second time I ran into him was at a tailgate party when I was with Al and Vic. Apparently, that wasn’t their first time seeing him either. But as I stood slightly behind them, his eyes caught sight of me. “Is that Birdie?”

The look on their faces was priceless. “How would he know your name?”

My pride flared up. That was the thing with Derek, I soon learned—he had a great memory. And he knew how to keep everyone’s attention. Mine included. That evening, though he was surrounded by girls, his eyes now and then locked with mine. Just for a short while, but long enough to make my heart flutter.

You know what that feeling does to the bullied ones? It gives them hope. Hope turns into determination. And determination can be reckless.

The next time I saw Derek was on the opening day of the fair. That was when I knew it was my chance to win in life.

43

MALLORY

It was the summer after graduation. Al and Vic were going off to college. I didn’t have a chance, not with my GPA or the money my family didn’t have. But I wanted the final revenge, a goodbye “fuck you.”

“You’re by yourself.” Derek stated the obvious that fateful day at the fair.

“So are you.”

“Where are you girlfriends?”

I shrugged, feigning indifference. “Somewhere. Keeping their drama to themselves. Thank god.”

His chest shook in a chuckle, dimples on his cheeks as he studied me with curiosity. “You don’t like drama?”

“No.”

“What do you like?”

I needed to come up with a good answer. Derek wasn’t a man you could impress with gossip or mediocre stuff. He wasn’t stupid Dougie who licked his lips at the sight of any ass clad in too-tight leggings.

A charming serial killer once said in an interview in a documentary, “No one is off-limits. You just need to find an angle.” He was talking about his female prey.

Derek felt off-limits. And Derek needed an angle.