Demanding Ransom

Chapter NINE



“That is one hot text exchange, girl.” Cora tosses my phone onto my bed as she tugs a cowl-neck sweater over her head. My bed is still unmade from last night, and it reeks of cheap cologne and musty boy sweat. I don’t know how she does it, but Cora always manages to have the guys sleep in a different bed after their PG-13 make out sessions. Since there are just two beds in our room, that bed ends up being mine. She says that sleeping in the same bed all night leads to sex, but I think actually sleeping next to someone is likely much tamer than rolling around lip-locked on the mattress for hours. Whatever. It seems to work for Cora and I’m not sure how, but she’s found a lengthy list of guys that have been willing to comply with her prudish demands.

I push off the desk and wrap my fingers around my phone. “It’s not hot, it’s annoying.”

“Oh yeah, it’s really annoying to get middle of the night texts from gorgeous guys saying they want to kiss you and get you excited.”

“Cora, that’s just wrong.” I grimace. “And that’s not what he said he wants to do.”

“Umm, yeah it is.” Cora eyes me from her reflection in her full-length mirror as she coats her lips in a shiny pink gloss. “Working on your paper all day?”

I nod and flip through the stack of books I’d checked out at the campus library earlier this afternoon. “I have to finish. This quarter can’t be a complete waste.”

“Well, if you need a break, I’ll be at the Student Union with the crew studying up for the Spanish 4 final. Necesito un A+ en la clase.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Gracias, chica.” Cora tosses a wave over her shoulder as she slips out of our room.

It’s a gorgeous day outside, the winter sun streaking through broken patches in the cotton-like cloud cover hanging above campus. I’d rather spend it anywhere other than the prison-like dormitory. I’m just in the middle of contemplating scooping up my things to stretch out and continue my studies on the grassy quad when a light knock sounds through my door.

“Coming!” I shout, scurrying toward it, reaching for the handle. The door falls open and that familiar face greets me with an unusually warm smile that races my heart. “Brian. What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, Maggie.” Brian pushes around me and makes himself at home on my bed, glancing across the room. He looks good as always, with his honey blond hair and piercing blue eyes. And he looks tan, too. Way too tan for the beginning of December. “Did you have a good holiday?”

“Holiday?” I shake my head, confused. “Oh, yeah. Thanksgiving was good. Quiet, just the three of us, but Mikey was able to keep the turkey down, so that was a plus.”

Brian smiles again, flashing impossibly white teeth under his full lips. “We vacationed in Barbados just like last year. It was nice.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” That explains his unseasonal sun-kissed skin. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

Brian looks at my bed, scrunches his nose like a bunny rabbit, and cocks his head. “Did some guy sleep in this last night? It smells like dollar store aftershave or something.”

“Yeah—” I begin, but the rhythmic rap on my open door interrupts me. Both Brian and I flip our heads the direction of the sound just as Ran pokes his head in; a clear plastic bag filled with water and a bright orange fish is grasped in his hand. He thrusts an arm toward us.

“Hey, Maggie. I brought you some more room décor.” Ran smiles, and though it’s not that same, perfect smile resulting from the years of expensive orthodontic work that Brian flashed a few seconds ago, it makes my knees feel shaky.

“Is this the guy?” Brian presses a finger into the mattress. “The one who—” He looks down at the unmade bed.

“I’m Ran.” Ran drops his motorcycle helmet onto Cora’s bed nearby, delicately placing the fish bag inside it, and extends a hand toward Brian. “And you are?”

“Maggie’s boyfriend.” Brian’s hand clamps down on Ran’s, swallowing it up. “I mean, ex-boyfriend,” he corrects.

“Well,” Ran smirks, “Any ex-boyfriend of Maggie’s is an ex-friend of mine.”

Brian shakes his head, clearly not amused and clearly trying to understand who this Ran guy is and what he’s saying. And why he may or may not have been in my bed last night. I don’t bother to offer him an explanation. “Maggie,” Brian continues, rotating toward me. “I came because I need that ticket from you for the Winter Masquerade.”

“The ticket? You mean the one you gave me the first week of school?” Back when we were still together. Back when I was your obvious date for functions like this.

“Yeah,” he nods. “That’s the one. Apparently you need the physical ticket to get in and Sophia’s freaking out that they won’t admit her. She’s already purchased her dress and everything.”

I don’t know who Sophia is—nor do I care to find out—and I definitely don’t still have the ticket. “Brian, I shredded that thing over a month ago.”

Brian nearly gasps, his blue eyes flashing. “You shredded it?” he growls, his voice rattling the windows, not that it takes much to do so. These dorms are over seventy-five years old and I think they still have the original glass panes.

Like he’s a spectator at a tennis match, Ran looks back and forth between us.

“Why on earth would you do that?” Brian questions, much quieter now.

“I don’t know. It was part of the whole ‘purge my life of anything Brian related’ phase.”

Brian shakes his head even harder than before, places his hands on his hips, right above his low-slung jeans, and stares at the floor. “You got rid of everything I gave you?”

“Maggie isn’t good with gifts,” Ran chuckles, and I shoot him my best glare, hoping he feels the intensity behind it. “Her mother never taught her manners.”

“Believe me.” Brian lifts his eyes to Ran’s. “I’ve met her mother.”

“Whatever,” I spit. “I don’t have the ticket, Brian. I’m sorry.”

“You should be. What am I supposed to tell Sophia?”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you could tell her that your ex-girlfriend of three years that you cheated on by sleeping with some sorority blonde you barely knew decided she didn’t want to hang onto anything that reminded her of you. That might do the trick.”

“Maggie, you’re a real piece of work.” Brian shakes his head condescendingly. “Three years and this is how you treat me?”

“Dude,” Ran speaks up. “I don’t think you have any business accusing Maggie of doing the mistreating.”

The two are face to face, just a three-foot gap of space separating them. The angry air that passes between them feels thick and physical, like I could reach my hand into it and touch it with my fingertips.

“Whatever. I’ll figure something else out with the ticket.” Brian storms toward the door. “Thanks for nothing,” he hisses over his shoulder.

“Same to you, Brian,” I say, proud of myself for holding my own, but hating the burning sensation of tears that sting the back of my eyes and scratch my tongue. I will not cry. I cannot cry. I’ve shed too many tears for Brian in the past. He doesn’t deserve any more from me.

When he’s out in the hall, Ran quietly walks over and shuts the door into its frame and it’s like the act triggers the dam to break. I push back the tears with the inside of my sleeve and sniff as quietly as I know how, hoping Ran doesn’t notice.

“Well this is sad, Maggie.” Ran drops down onto my bed and fingers a loose thread on his pant leg.

“This is sad?”

“Yeah,” Ran confirms, nodding briskly. “Because I thought I might have had a chance with you. But if you’re attracted to jerks like him, I realize I’m not your type of guy.”

I hold my finger to my nose to wipe it, as well as stifle the laugh. “I’m not attracted to guys like him,” I defend, pulling a tissue from the box on my desk. I blow into it loudly, sounding like a foghorn. “We started dating when I was just barely sixteen. He’s not the type of guy I’m interested in now.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Ran mocks, throwing his hands in the air. I try again to hold back my laughter, but I’m not successful and I snort. Between the snorting and the snot, I’m making myself real attractive. “Because he’s very pretty, but that’s about all.”

I look over toward his helmet holding the plastic fish bag inside it. “You brought me a goldfish?”

“I didn’t bring you just one goldfish.” Ran glides across the dorm and pulls the bag from the helmet. “I brought you two. To avoid that really depressing swimming in circles from occurring. Plus, they still had a two for one deal.”

“But I didn’t give you any compliments. If I remember correctly, I actually gave you several very harsh insults.”

“I decided to wipe your slate clean.” Ran hands me the bag with two iridescent, golden fish fluttering around inside and snatches my used Kleenex, tossing it into the wastebasket under my desk. “Everyone deserves a second chance in life. Some people more than others.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I yank the fish from him. “That I’m in desperate need of a second chance?”

“Not necessarily.” Ran’s eyes hold my own. “But it feels really good to give those second chances. So I’m doing this more for me than for you at this point. Using you to make myself feel good.” He coils back from my attempted slug against his solid shoulder. “Watch it.” He grabs my wrist playfully and twists up the corner of his upper lip. I bet those lips feel amazing. “I said I give second chances freely. Thirds and fourths are harder to come by.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I drop my hand to my side, but Ran’s still wraps around my wrist and I pray he can’t feel my pulse thrumming on his fingers. My eyes flit up to his, and when they meet, I see his falter slightly along with the quick intake of breath I hear pulled in between his lips. “So what are you here for? Just to drop off my new pets?”

“Yes.” Ran lets go of my wrist. “And to ask you to dinner.”

“Because our lunch went so well yesterday.” I slip back into my chair and skate the mouse across the desk to wake up my computer. I need to finish this paper.

“I thought it did,” Ran says, stone faced.

I twist around in my seat. “Seriously? You thought that went well?”

“Best first date I’ve been on.”

“That wasn’t a first date, Ran. That was a hostage situation.”

“Hardly.” Ran hovers over me. “And I think you owe me a second chance. You know, ‘cause I just gave you one and all.”

I push out a frustrated huff and turn back around to stare at my laptop. Honestly, looking at him right now is so distracting. It’s incredibly difficult to attempt to argue with someone that looks the way Ran does. “So that wasn’t purely merciful earlier? I always knew you had ulterior motives.”

“Ulterior motives, no. A hidden agenda, maybe.” Ran holds his hand up to his face, his fingers curled into his palm like he’s examining his nail bed.

“Again, semantics.” I begin typing on the keyboard, pounding out another paragraph of my essay. I notice the faster I breathe, the quicker and louder my fingers click across the keys, so I force my breathing to slow so my nerves aren’t given away by my impossibly fast typing frenzy.

“Are you a linguistics major, Maggie?”

“No.” I flip open the closest book to a random page and pretend to read the contents. But the words scramble together and their meanings jumble around my head, like the hormones inhabiting it don’t allow for them both to exist in the same space. Like logic and reason don’t belong when it comes to the laws of attraction.

“Then why are you constantly analyzing the way I say things?”

My shoulders pull taut. “I don’t like being lied to.”

“And what makes you think I’m going to lie to you?” I feel him edge closer to me, sense his hands hooking over the back of the chair, and when I smell his minty breath and feel the rush of it on my shoulder, my hairs stand on end.

I shiver. “I don’t know. History.”

“Listen.” Ran pushes off the chair and the momentum causes me to swivel to the right. I plant my foot on the floor to stop from spinning around completely. “People may have lied to you in the past, but I’m not a liar. I’m honest—to a fault.”

“Oh, so you mean that’s just one of the many?”

I glimpse Ran shaking his head over my shoulder. “I’ve already pardoned your past insults. Do you really want to start this again?”

“Kinda.” I shrug.

“I’ll tell you what I want to do,” he says, slinking down onto my bed. I steal a glance from out of the corner of my eye, instantly uneasy from the vision of his body sprawled out on my bed, even though I’d imagined it there already when I led Brian to believe Ran was the one responsible for the tousled sheets and cologne stench. “I want to take a nap.”

“A nap?”

Ran stretches, toes off his black boots so they clatter onto the floor, and splays his arms out behind his head as he eases onto my pillow. He nearly takes up the entire length of the mattress. “I had a late shift last night, and if I’m taking you out tonight, I need my beauty rest. If this truly is our first date, then I want to make a good first impression.”

“Ran, you’ve made lots of impressions already, and none of them have been good,” I say sarcastically. He set himself up for that one.

“That’s not true, Maggie.” Ran closes his eyes. His lashes are so long, so thick and dark. I abuse the privilege of spying on him while he’s not looking and stare a bit too long at his features. “I think my nice face and lips made a pretty good impression if I recall.” With eyes still closed, his mouth bursts into a full-on grin. “And if you’re lucky, these lips just might make another impression. But this time on yours, later tonight.”