Point of Retreat(41)



“Dammit, Lake!” I cut her off in the living room and don’t let her by. “You aren’t taking it. Don’t make me hide it from you.”



She tries to shove her way past me but I block her again. “You have no right to keep them at your house, Will! It’s just your excuse to make me keep coming over here!”



She’s right. She’s absolutely right…but I don’t care. “No, I want them over here because I don’t trust that you won’t open them all.”



She shoots me a dirty look. “While we’re on the subject of trust, are you sabotaging these? Are you putting fake ones in here, trying to get me to forgive you?”



I laugh. She must be getting some great advice from her mom if she thinks I’m sabotaging the stars. “Maybe you should listen to your mother’s advice, Lake.”



She tries to brush past me again so I grab the vase from her hands. She jerks it away harder than I expect and the vase slips and lands on the floor, spilling out dozens of tiny stars onto the carpet. She bends down and starts scooping them up. Her hands are full and I can see on her face that she doesn’t know where to put them since her pants don’t have pockets. She pulls the collar of her shirt out and starts shoving them inside by the handful. She’s determined.

I grab her hands and pull them away from her shirt. “Lake, stop it! You’re acting like a ten year old!” I set the vase upright and start throwing the rest of them inside as fast as she’s grabbing them, stuffing them inside her shirt. I do the only thing I can…I reach my hand down her shirt and start grabbing them back. She slaps at my hands and tries to crawl backwards but I grab the back of her shirt to stop her. She continues to back away as I continue holding onto her shirt until it slips over her head and it’s resting in my hands. She gathers more stars and stands and heads toward the front door with her hands clasped to her bra, still trying to hold on to them.

“Lake, you aren’t going outside without a shirt on,” I say. She’s relentless.

“Watch me!” she says. I jump up and wrap my arms around her waist and pick her up. Just as I’m about to release her onto the couch, the front door swings open. I look over my shoulder and Reece walks in with a handful of groceries. He pauses and stares at us wide-eyed.

Lake is still trying to struggle to free herself from my grasp, ignoring the fact that someone she doesn't even know has a front row seat to her tantrum. The only thing I can think of is the fact that she’s in her bra in front of another guy. I pick her up higher and toss her over the back of the couch. Just as fast as she’s on the couch, she’s back up again, trying to make her way past me. She finally notices Reece standing in the doorway.

“Who the hell are you?” she yells as she slaps at my arm that’s holding her back.

He responds cautiously. “Reece? I live here?” he says.

Lake stops struggling and folds her arms across her chest with an embarrassed look on her face. I take the opportunity to grab most of the stars out of her hands and I toss them back toward the vase. I reach down and pick her shirt up and shove it into her chest. “Put your shirt on!” I snap.

“Ugh!” She throws the rest of the stars on the floor and turns her shirt right side out. “You’re such a jerk, Will! You have no right to keep these here!” She pulls her shirt over her head and turns to Reece. “And when the hell did you get a roommate?”



Reece just stares at her, still wide-eyed. He has no idea what to make of the scene going down before him. Lake walks back to the center of the room and grabs a small handful of stars, then turns and rushes toward the front door. Reece steps aside as she moves passed him and goes outside. We both watch as she crosses the street, stopping twice to pick up stars she drops in the snow. When she shuts her door behind her, Reece turns to me.

“Man, she’s feisty. And cute,” he says.

“And mine,” I reply.

***

While Reece is cooking us lunch, I crawl around the living room and pick up all the stars that scattered. After I think I have them all, I take the vase to the kitchen to hide it in the cabinet. If she can’t find it, she’ll have to speak to me to ask me where it is.

“What are those, anyway?” Reece asks.

“They’re from her mother,” I say. “Long story.”



She might find them too easily if I hide them in such an obvious spot. I move the cereal again and place the vase right behind the tequila.

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