Chapter 22 - Johnny - True Story
“Yeah?” I’m trying to contain my excitement, but I just can’t. Becca agreeing to be my girlfriend, even though it’s fake, is the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in months. Since that day at the tattoo shop, to be honest. Thank god I was honest when I said I still had some feelings for her, or my level of excitement right now would probably seem a little crazy. “You won’t regret this. Aside from solving your problem with your mother, you’re going to enjoy having me as your boyfriend. I’ve been told I’m excellent at it. Well, for as long as it lasts, I am.” Until I realize the woman I’m with isn’t my other half, that is.
Becca laughs, grabbing herself another beer. “Well, I don’t have anything to compare to so I’m sure I wouldn’t know the difference, anyway.”
Did I hear that right? Becca hasn’t had many boyfriends? I find that hard to believe. This woman is a walking wet dream. Soft and curvy, with an uncomplicated style. Aside from her perfect eyebrows and bright lipstick, she’s about as low-maintenance as a woman can get. Every time I’ve seen her she’s been in jeans and t-shirts with that nearly worn out hoodie she loves thrown over top. She’s that perfect girl next door with tattoos and a tiny bit of makeup that gives her a little edge. She has this innocence about her and I can’t help but want to protect her and dirty her up at the same time.
“Well, I will blow all your past boyfriends out of the water,” I say. “I must warn you now, after this is all over I will most likely have ruined you for other men.” And I really hope that’s true, because if this goes the way I hope, then I will be the last man she ever needs to be with. The last man she ever wants to be with.
“That won’t be too hard. Milo is the reason I don’t do relationships. It should be easy to be a better boyfriend than him.”
“Milo?” Sounds like a douchebag.
“Yeah, Milo Mathews. He’s the closest I’ve ever had to a boyfriend. I was fourteen.”
“Oh.” I don’t even know what to say to that. How can this amazing, sexy, smart, hilarious woman not have had a relationship since she was fourteen? What did this dickhead Milo do that was so bad she swore off relationships forever?
“I’ve never told anyone this, but it’s something you’ll probably need to know as my fake boyfriend.” First order of business, figure out how to get her to drop the ‘fake’ when she calls me her boyfriend. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, exhaling roughly before she begins. “I don’t want to get into it too much, but you need to know a little so I can tell you the story properly.”
“Tell me whatever you think you need to, Becca. I’m here to listen. You don’t owe me anything.”
“When I was four, I had an accident at home. I pulled a pot of soup off the stove and burned a large portion of the right side of my body, and a little of the left side.” I suck in a breath, the thought of tiny Becca being burned with boiling liquid sending pain shooting through me. Becca slides down the sleeves of her ever present hoodie, showing me her arms. “It’s a little harder to see the scars through the tattoos, but they’re still there.
“I kept to myself throughout my school years. I wore long pants and turtlenecks with long sleeves year round. I was the ugly, weird kid, and I had no friends. Until one day when I was fourteen, and Milo sat next to me in the library.
“Milo was the exact opposite of me. He was good-looking, popular, and played on the baseball team. I thought he sat next to me by mistake, but he’d done it on purpose.
“He spent months gaining my trust, becoming my friend, until, eventually, near the end of the school year, he said he liked me, that I was his dream girl. It felt like everything I’d ever wanted had come true. I was on top of the world.
“But of course it wasn’t like that.
“One day we were making out at his place and he convinced me to take off my shirt. He took a picture of me and my scars and showed the entire school. He was never my friend. He was faking it the entire time.”
Rage flows through my veins, burning me from the inside out, blinding me. I’m going to find this Milo character, and I’m going to make him bleed. How dare he do this to Becca? How dare he destroy a child like that? Never mind that he was technically a child, too. The guy was a dumb fucker, and I’m sure he still is. I force my breath to steady. Becca needs me to listen right now, not go off acting crazy and looking for revenge.
“After that, the kids at school started calling me Freddy Krueger. But it wasn’t a complete disaster. That’s also when I started getting these tattoos. I ran into a relative of Milo’s when I sprinted out of his house that day. A relative who just happened to think that Milo was a little prick. He helped me out with all the tattoos and became like an uncle to me. He’s one of the best men I’ve even known.”
“Holy shit,” I say. “The Freddy tattoo?”
She nods. “Remember how I said it was my first tattoo? I got it as a fuck you to Milo. I was fourteen.”
“Fourteen?” I’m shocked. I can’t even decide what to say about it. “Wow. That’s… I don’t know what to say.”
“Once I started getting all the tattoos, and stopped wearing clothes that covered me head to toe, the other kids stopped calling me Freddy. Eventually. Except Milo. He was an asshole right until the last time I saw him.” She chuckles a little. “But yeah, that’s why this horror villain tattoo you designed for me was the only choice I could make. Freddy has had his day. I can’t continue to give him, and Milo, so much power over my life.”
She takes a drink of her beer and dabs at her eyes. I don’t see any tears, but it looks like she got a little misty while telling me the story. I want to hug her, but now I understand why she doesn’t really like to be touched. The last guy who touched her betrayed her trust in the worst way. It’s no wonder she doesn’t want people to touch her.
“Anyway, that’s why I’ve never had a boyfriend. And why I don’t let anyone into my life in that way anymore. But since you’re my friend first, and my fake boyfriend second, I think I can trust you not to take naked pictures of me to flash around, or to start calling me Freddy.” She laughs a little, the sound more sad than mirthful.
“Well,” I drawl slowly, “I still might want some naked pictures, but I’ll be damned if I ever show them to anyone. And if I give you a nickname, it will be something that actually suits you, like ‘beautiful’, or ‘gorgeous’, or ‘sexiest woman on the motherfucking planet’.” That earns me a smile, but I can tell she doesn’t believe what I’m saying. She knows I won’t betray her, but she doesn’t believe that she’s beautiful. Fuck this Milo guy. “On a totally unrelated, and not at all revenge motivated note, where is Milo these days? Did he leave town after high school? For educational purposes, of course.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Educational purposes.” This time her laughter is real, and it helps to quell the rage fire in my blood. A little, but not much. “I don’t think I should tell you that. I know what happened to Alex’s cheating ex-boyfriend Derek, and Denise’s dickhead ex Andrew. I don’t think I could have your incarceration for assault or manslaughter on my conscience. Plus, visiting you in prison would be too much of a bummer.”
“Hmmm, you might be right. I’m too pretty for prison. Plus, you just agreed to be my fake girlfriend. I’m not ready to give that up just to be someone’s real girlfriend in prison. Maybe I’ll wait and do it after we convince your mother to butt out of your love life. I’ve seen those prisoners looking for love websites. Some of those guys are hot. And jacked!”
That gets her laughing, a proper belly laugh. The tears spring from her again, but this time they’re from laughter instead of sadness.
Now I have two missions: make Becca my girlfriend for real, and help her understand that she’s truly beautiful, scars or no scars.
No. Wait. Three missions: I also have to find Milo Mathews and break his legs.
