FocusTunes Ch. 07

"Uh...no?" My eyes darted back to Amanda, who was looking in on this sudden intrusion with interest.

"Heidi Ryan? Is she okay?" she asked, concerned.

"Oh!" Rachel noticed Amanda for the first time. "Uh...I'm not really sure. She never misses school, and she hasn't responded to any of my texts today, which is really weird because we're supposed to rehearse for strings ensemble today. And I just wanted to know if you knew anything..."--she turned to me--"...in terms of like...if she was okay, or anything." Rachel trailed off pointedly. Ah. This wasn't a question about Heidi's physical health, but her emotional health.

"So, how'd I do?" A third voice; I wheeled back around. There was Emily, one hand over her mouth in embarrassment. Emily had recognized Amanda from afar and figured that I was completing the next step of the plan -- but had not noticed Rachel, who was decisively not part of the plan.

"Oh!...I'm sorry!" Emily continued, scrambling for an excuse. "I, uh...sorry, Ben's been tutoring me on chemistry, and I just wanted to see how I did on the...problem set he was going over for me."

"I didn't know you were getting tutored!" Amanda said, smiling at Emily. "Mom putting more pressure on you to get your grades up?"

"Ben?" Rachel said impatiently, pulling my attention back to her. She sent a sidewards glance at Amanda and Emily -- to her knowledge, not the friends I would reasonably be considered about at this time. After all, what relationship did I have with these girls? Right? Right?!

It was time to get back on top of the situation. In control. In control. In control.

"Rachel: I haven't spoken to Heidi since yesterday, and she seemed fine then, but I can go check on her this afternoon. If something's seriously wrong, you'll be the person I call."

"Okay, good." Rachel simpered. "I just worry, I don't want--"

"No, of course--"

"Ben..." Emily muttered urgently. Amanda had seen a friend crossing through the hallway and started leaving, having already fulfilled my commands for the day.

"Amanda, no!" I called out firmly. "Stay here for a secon--no, wait, just...stay here." I nearly flubbed it (okay, I fully flubbed it), but Amanda wheeled back into our little nucleus, totally unperturbed by my insistence. That was one way to verify that Emily's commands had indeed taken hold, I suppose.

Rachel was a little perturbed, sending another odd look my way. I was back on top of her before she could comment. "I'll go check on Heidi, and if she doesn't want to talk to me because of you-know-why, then I'll tell her to talk to you because you're getting worried."

"Okay. You'll text me either way?"

"Of course." I slammed my locker shut -- I don't think I actually put away any books; I just needed to punctuate the end of that conversation. "C'mon, let's go this way." I said to nobody in particular, but both Amanda and Emily took the command as gospel. We went quick enough down the hallway that, if Rachel were thinking of following, she'd have to hustle to catch up.

"Okay, Amanda: are you free tonight at any time?--and wait! Answer all of my questions honestly."

"I'm free after 6-ish."

"Perfect. Come to my house at 6:30 then. I'll text you the address."

"What if my parents try to stop me?"

That question alone sent a quick twinge through my dick. Not "I have to ask my parents." Not "My mom might say no." Just "What if my parents try to stop me?"

"Figure out how to get their permission. Lie and say that you're going over to Emily's to study or get extra chem help from a tutor or something. You should make them not suspect you're doing anything out of the ordinary. I'll only need 15 or so minutes anyway."

"Okay, I can do that." Amanda smiled. "This is exciting: finally getting to do something for you!"

Ooh. Second twinge. The joy in her voice was authentic: Amanda had always wanted to fulfill my commands, and now she was finally getting the chance for which she had forever longed.

"Ben!" Emily hissed, and I looked up, following her eyes down the hall. On our walk, we'd made it to another wing of the building. There, Miranda was at her own locker, filling her bag and preparing to make her way to the parking lot.

"Amanda, go back the way we came. Go! Go!"

Just as Amanda turned and beelined back, Miranda closed her locker, turned down the hallway, and saw Emily and I, shoulders brushing against each other, staring straight at her. Her face darkened, her rosy cheeks tightening in an anger that I had once found extremely cute and not at all intimidating. That was a different life.

She made an effort to wipe her expression clean as she stalked by, but the pain remained etched in her eyes as she leered at me, and then at Emily.

"Slut," she muttered softly, chin held high, as she slid past us.

My first feeling was anger -- Emily was not a slut. My second feeling was guilt -- Emily was not a slut, but I definitely was, and I'd made Emily seem like one. My third feeling was remorse -- I wanted to call out to her and tell her that I had nearly fixed it; tell her that soon, she wouldn't be mad at me or at Emily or at anyone. That I could make her happy again; happier than she'd ever been, with her dumb relationships and stupid friends.

But I couldn't do that. I was in control, no matter how much control fucking sucked.

I turned to Emily. "I'm sorry she said that," I said softly.

"I get it," Emily responded, her voice light and unaffected. "It's like you explained to me: if I was in her situation, I'd be so pissed." Then she looked at me, her eyes hopeful. "But once you brainwash her, she won't be mad at me anymore."

"I guess you're right."

"And then you can tell her that I get to call her a slut as much as I want, and she can never say it back."

"Oh my God."

----

I was outside of the Ryan residence now,...three? four? days removed from my last afternoon visit. I'd texted Heidi to warn her of my coming, but received no response, so nobody was waiting for me on the porch. I knocked on the door as I checked my watch: 5:45. I should have enough time to get this done right, and still get home by 6:30.

Mr. Ryan answered. He was a burly man, his hair once fiery like his daughters', but now growing white with age. Deep-set eyes, square jaw, bushy mustache, a tattoo of some Irish biker gang peeking out from below the sleeve on his left bicep. A hallmark to his less scrupulous days.

"Benjamin!" He tended to bellow his words. "Come to borrow some sugar, I imagine?"

"And contend with your lawn upkeep. The homeowner's association has a bone to pick with you."

"Knowing Marjorie Roderick, I hardly imagine you're joking." He stepped aside. "You've probably come about Heidi, then."

"Oh?" I was legitimately concerned now. "Is that obvious? All I know is she missed school today."

"Yeah." He scratched his mustache. "She spoke to her mother this morning, said she wasn't feeling well, has been holed up in her room ever since. I offered to make her chicken noodle soup but she won't let me beyond her door. A fortress up there, I say!"

"Well, I just wanted to check and make sure she was okay." I pointed toward the stairs. "Mind if I go up?"

"Sorry, son." Mr. Ryan held up a hand, shaking his head. "I know you're a good kid, but we've got rules about girls and boys alone in rooms in this house. Let me go see if she'll come down and say hello."

Mr. Ryan was up and back in a flash, returning with another mustache rub.

"Ah, she's as squirrelly now as she's been all day. Says she doesn't want to get anyone else sick." He shrugged. "Why don't you give her a call or a FaceTime? She'd appreciate it, I'm sure."

"She hasn't been answering anyone's texts, but I'll try it out." I grabbed my phone from my pocket and gave him a little wave. "I appreciate you trying, though."

"Of course!" Mr. Ryan started walking me to the door. "You should drop by more often, we'd love to have you!"

I wasn't listening; I was looking at the phone in my hand.

"Wait." I turned suddenly. "There was this video on Facebook I saw that I wanted to show you, super cute: two little Dachshund puppies."

"Oh?" Mr. Ryan was famously soft on the Ryan's two Dashchunds, Ketchup and Mustard, regularly walking around with each scooped in a meaty paw.

"Yeah, they're making these little barks that sound like talking." I held my headphones out as I scrolled through my phone. "You should probably use my headphones, otherwise it'll be tough to hear."

You know where this is going.

As I hit play, I had a moment of sheer panic. "I've never tried this on a man before. That probably won't matter. But whatifitmatters?!?!" Of course, it didn't. Mr. Ryan acted like all others before him, growing quiet and looking about, casually investigating a decorative map the Ryans had in their foyer. I gave him only a few seconds of the song before I cut it.

"Earl: you're okay with Ben seeing Heidi alone. You're okay with Ben seeing Heidi alone."

As I waited for life to return to his eyes, I reflected on what was my most casual usage of FocusTunes to this point. I didn't even have a nefarious angle here -- I just wanted to check in on Heidi, make sure she was okay, and assuage Rachel's concerns as well. I didn't need this to become a longer distraction to my main project...but I also felt pretty bad about blowing Rachel off. And it wasn't like Heidi to miss school -- she once came in with bloodshot eyes and beads of sweat on her forehead, and it took us until third block to convince her to head home.

Mr. Ryan was awake.

"Benjamin! Why don't you head on up and see Heidi anyway? I'm sure she'll be happy to see a friend."

"A good idea, Mr. Ryan." I smiled to myself. "Good idea."

I'd successfully convinced Heidi's dad that my visit was appropriate; I still needed to convince her. I was at the door to her room now -- a place I'd seen from afar but never up close. Another thrill rushed through me as I knocked. Sacred space.

"What, Daddy?" Heidi said, her voice a bit impatient.

"Not Daddy." I said softly. I heard a scramble through the door.

"Ben?!" she half-whispered, her voice closer now. "Why did he let you up here?"

"He said he didn't mind me coming up. Thought you needed to see a friend." I leaned against the door, smiling. "You feeling sick?"

"Yes." Heidi said. "I really don't think I should see anyone right now though."

"I get it. Rach's worried about you, though. You know how she motherhens when someone's sick." I chuckled. "And she's kinda pissed you didn't text her back." I heard a wry chuckle in return.

"I just...I didn't really want to talk to anyone."

"Is it that bad?" I asked. "Like, are you puking or...?"

"...yeah."

"Damn. I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

...

"Okay, well...I'll tell Rachel you're alive. Is there anything I can get for you? Coke slushies work wonders, you know." Another chuckle.

"No. Thanks though."

"Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. Hope you feel better."

I was only a step away from the door when I heard it crack open.

I turned back around. Heidi was peering through the slit, her hair tied up in a messy bun, her shoulder cloaked in an oversized Local University sweater. I smiled despite myself: she looked cute.

"Hey, there's that smiling face." I joked; Heidi's face was anything but smiling. But I saw a crack of a grin break her frown as I stepped back closer.

"Did he really say you could come up?" she asked.

"Ask him yourself, if you want."

"Okay." The door opened the rest of the way: her sweater was paired with pajama pants and thick woolen socks. "Come in."

"Sure you're not radioactive?" I joked again, entering the sacred space. Heidi's room was a lot more simple than Emily's. There was a crucifix and a few icons mounted on the walls, a wide desk with a laptop and standing mirror, and a wider bookshelf overgrown with volumes and tomes. Pillows and stuffed animals waged war on a dishevelled bed, the available surface area of which could not possibly have held one Heidi-sized body; a mountain of tissues climbed from the bedside trash can.

"Tissues?" I turned to Heidi, confused. "I thought your stomach was upset..." And as I turned, I saw her eyes: a little bit bloodshot, the lids flushed red.

"You've been crying..." I realized softly. Heidi smiled weakly, leaning against her bookshelf and folding her arms, as far away from me as her room would allow.

"I...saw you this morning..." she said, her voice mortified with embarrassment. "...with Emily."

Ah, fuck it all right down to fuck.

"What do you mean, you saw me with Emily?"

"In your driveway...I was driving by, and I just looked over, and I saw you with a girl in your driveway...and at first I thought it was Miranda, but then you kinda...you grabbed her butt and I..." Heidi's voice started to break. "I'm sorry, this is so dumb..."

"No, no, it's not dumb."

"It is dumb..." Heidi said, trying not to blubber. "I knew you didn't...like me, I just...I know that...that those girls are a lot prettier than me, s-so I know that--"

"No, Heidi, it's not--"

"Can you please just let me!..." Heidi chuckled softly to herself, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I just...I can't even talk to anyone about it, because I don't want to tell your secrets...so can I just talk?"

I swallowed my words and nodded.

"I...I know that those girls are a lot prettier than me, but I didn't think...I just didn't think that you cared about that so much. You always talked to me about how...annoying all of those girls were...how Miranda took advantage of you...and how rude Emily was...and now you're...you're...I don't even know what you're doing...but with both of them?! You're...you're acting just like Oliver or Steven or Danny or any one of those guys that you hate." She shuddered in a steadying breath. "I don't care if you don't...like me, or anything...but you're not acting like yourself. And it's ugly."

She wiped a fresh tear from her cheek. I could nearly see her little heart pounding in her chest, even underneath the lumpy sweater.

"That's it. That's what I wanted to say."

Okay, so we can all agree: fucking Emily was the dumbest thing I ever did. When she was operating of her own volition, she was bordering on ruining things -- now, under my control, she was still ruining fucking everything.

"Nuh-uh," the angel spoke to me now, quiet for so long. "You're the one who ruined everything. Everything Miranda ever did to you, you did to Heidi. Right down to the intentional attraction blindness to hide your own guilt."

Fuck.

"Angelina over there's right. You fucked the pig on this one, buddy." the devil chimed in. "But you've basically got Miranda fixed. And you know how to fix this one, too."

Fuck again.

"You're right." I shook my head. "I've been acting like a dick. To a lot of people. And I'm glad that you called me out on it, because I'm not sure anyone else would have." Because they've all already lost their free will.

"It's not that--"

"Wait." I held up a hand. "My turn." Heidi pursed her lips, but nodded.

"I want you to know something, right now, before...anything else happens." I looked up at her softly. "I really never knew that you liked me. I never thought that you would, because I just...I don't know, we obviously want different things out of relationships at this stage in our lives. And I wouldn't have wanted to lead you on, but...I've always loved hanging out with you. I think you're beautiful -- just as beautiful as Emily or Miranda or anyone else. I think you're smart as a whip, and kind when others don't deserve it, and passionate and loyal and fun. If I thought I could have dated you without ruining our friendship with our different expectations for physicality, I would have asked you out in a heartbeat. But I wanted to respect your limits."

I took my own steadying breath.

"Now, there's something I need you to watch on my phone. It'll help you understand why Emily came over to my house yesterday morning. It's...not what you think. Just trust me."

I needed Heidi's spell to run a little longer than her father's did, so while she listened to her music, I took time for reflection. I had wanted to respect her limits. I 100% would have asked Heidi out if I thought we could have fucked. Maybe that was shallow, but it was better than dating her and pushing her. In the same way that Miranda was an unattainable girlfriend, via the limits of social status, Heidi was an unattainable fuck, via the limits of faith. To disrespect those limits would have been irreparably damaging.

But nothing was irreparably damaging anymore. No limits existed anymore.

I paused Heidi's music, and her eyes glazed over. It was the least erotic time it had ever happened. Well, save for the one with her dad earlier. I guess he was hot in a sailor-sorta way? Anyway.

"Heidi: nothing I d--"

I stopped. I had just told Heidi that I was glad she had called me out -- and I had meant it. If I gave her a "Nothing I do upsets you," as I just had Amanda and Emily, I'd lose that. I...I wanted the things I did to still upset Heidi. Not all of them, obviously. But she wasn't an Amanda or an Emily. I had a previous relationship with her. She proved just five minutes ago that she served as a functional moral compass. I wanted more of Heidi, but I didn't want to lose everything I already had.

The clock was ticking.

"Heidi: you like that Ben is seeing other girls. You like that Ben is seeing other girls."

The clock was still ticking; my mind was running.

"Heidi: you want to...you are willing to explore your sexuality with Ben. You're willing to explore your sexuality with Ben."

The clock was running low. Tell her to fuck you, tell her to fuck you, tell her to fuck you, tellhertofuckyou, tellhertofu--

Her eyes woke back up.

-----

Toast is an underrated dinner food. Three minute prep time, fat and carbs, nearly impossible to fuck up. (The exact setting for perfect toast on my family toaster, by the way, is 2/3rds the way between 3 and 4. In case you're ever in my dad's house and overwhelmed by the 10 level dial on his shitty toaster.) I sat at my kitchen table, peered at my driveway, and snagged another $20 from Slick Rick. These women were emptying my gas tank in more ways than one.

At precisely 6:30, headlights turned toward my house. By the time I made it to the doorway, I realized why.

"Did you wait until 6:30 to show up?" I called at the two dark figures exiting the car.

"You said come at 6:30!" Amanda responded indignantly. "We just pulled over in the street for a few minutes."

"This fucking thing..." I muttered to myself as the girls stepped into the light of my stoop.

Amanda looked excellent. She'd teased up her hair with even more volume, sweeping it from one side to the other so it fell in a dramatic waterfall over one shoulder, leaving her chest bare to thrust her significant cleavage into my eyeline. Mascara added contrast to the electric blue of her eyes; brief Daisy Dukes added a tight hug to the curve of her ass.

Amanda's ass, of course, was not the point of the visit. It was important to stay on task. But as she walked through the opened door, I gave it a long glance, just to make sure I knew where it was. In case I needed to find it again.

Emily followed her in. She was dressed as she was earlier in the day: still attractive, still pantyless. (At least, she better be.)

"I don't remember telling you you had to come," I said lightly, so she knew I wasn't actually mad.

"You said I had to help." She shrugged. "And Amanda's mom wouldn't let her go without a ride anyway."