Bad Taste (Part I) // Colby Brock

70 - Rebecca

          Nostalgia from barely a week ago rushed through me as Colby pulled up to his house, his hand holding mine across the car just so that we could have a little contact. This time, however, he didn't glare out the windshield or hesitate. He climbed straight out of the car and circled to my side, helping me out. I took his hand and kept it, making sure our fingers were laced as I pulled my big backpack over my shoulder — it contained my smaller one as a last-minute 'what do I do with this?' fix.

His car clicked as we walked away from it towards the front doors, which looked suddenly a little looming. I hadn't been afraid at all last time and still wasn't this time, however, I was... anxious. More for my relationship with Colby than for anything else.

The inside of the house looked just the same, which I should have expected, aside from a small dent in the wall. I looked at it for half a second then looked at Colby, who just shrugged at me. He'd mentioned how he'd destroyed the house a bit whilst going mad because I wasn't there with him. I was glad that I hadn't actually gone through with punching my walls like I had wanted to. The first time I'd shown any self-control.

Just as my boot touched the bottom step of the stairs, movement by the kitchen caught me eye. My head snapped to the figure lingering in the shadows of the hallway and I narrowed my eyes at them.

Colby must have noticed them, too, because he squeezed my hand and moved up to stand next to me. "Jake," he said sternly, but the underlying positive tone of his voice was clear to even me. "Stop spying for Tara."

As if he hadn't been caught, Jake flew out of the darkness of the hallway with a big smirk on his face, his arms wide on either side. He only looked at me. "Well, well. Look who's back," he announced too loud.

I let go of Colby's hand — he pulled my backpack from my shoulder and started up the stairs with it — and crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at Jake. "Do you have a problem with that?" I snapped. My voice retained every bit of the bitch as it usually did.

"Not at all. I'm glad, actually." Jake glanced at Colby halfway up the stairs then back to me, grinning carelessly. "Come along, milady. The red room awaits."

"Still sounds like a sex dungeon," I muttered as I followed Jake down the hall. I just about heard Colby's door close upstairs before I was stepping into a mass of red.

The first people I noticed were Elton, Katrina, and Tara. Elton was sitting on the chair just beside the door with his legs stretched out and his head leaned back. It was as if he knew that I was here since he didn't look surprised when he looked at me. His eyes moved straight to my skirt; to where it cut off before mid-thigh.

"Eyes away," I snarled at him. To his credit, he looked away.

Katrina was sitting sideways on Sam's lap with her head resting somewhere on his collarbone. She was watching me with an expression that just screamed relief, excitement and something else I couldn't quite figure out — pride? Maybe.

Tara, on the other hand, was waiting for Jake to return to her, sitting up straight and staring at him as he approached. He moved a little fast and sat down faster. I could have sworn there was no pause between then and when she was on his lap, smiling. She finally looked at me, then, with a friendly familiarity. I almost returned that smile.

But I wasn't quite there yet, so I walked to Colby's chair and dropped into it. I knew he was probably already on his way and I'd have to move anyway, but I didn't care. I lifted my legs over the arm of the chair, careful to move them together so my skirt didn't ride up and seriously flash Colby's friends. That wouldn't go down well today.

As I suspected, only a few seconds passed before Colby was walking through the door. He shut it firmly behind himself, looking at me the whole time. I could have sworn my heart started beating faster but I tried to ignore it. I got up and out of his way, carrying out an unspoken plan. When he sat down upright, I moved onto his lap sideways and rested my arm across his shoulders. One of his arms rested around my waist, the other hanging over my lap.

It was like I couldn't get enough of him when my free hand dropped to rest innocently on his forearm.

In this position on his lap, I was sitting taller than him, not to mention the arm around him. I felt like I meant something in that room because of that; like I could boss these people around and they'd have no excuse to ignore me. With Colby beneath me, it was basically a death wish not to give me what I wanted right now. I considered it, but I didn't use my new-found power, for their sakes.

I just settled into a routine of sitting in silence and listening to others for my entertainment. This time, Colby wasn't going to cut off whatever they said, because I was going to keep him distracted. It wasn't very difficult, biting my lip now and then as I heard a bit of the story I thought he might try to hide from me.

The most recent was Elton's voice carrying softly from the door. "This chick was terrified of me. Batshit crazy, too. She started screaming and running and it took me, what, ten seconds to catch her? If that, honestly. She was an easy one."

I couldn't lie that I was a little disturbed by Elton's story. What did he mean when he said he chased after her? And why?

He continued, "She tasted good, you know. The crazy ones always do."

She tasted good. That didn't settle well in my stomach, let alone in my head. I stared at Elton for a second, forgetting to hide from Colby who exactly I was listening to. I felt his gaze on the side of my face now, as if he was gauging my reaction to what had been said.

I just sat there. I didn't know what to think about Elton's little anecdote. Were there dots that were supposed to be joined up here? A hidden meaning behind every word? Taste meant a lot of different things...

I remembered a revelation about Colby I had but brushed away because it made me seem insane: was he normal — as in...something that people knew about? Were any of these people that, or something else?

In little signs, it was starting to become clear that they were, in fact, something else.