Xander Barns: Always Wanted Forever Part 1

Always Wanted Forever.

(Previously published as Xander Barns Series: Always Wanted, Wanted Always, Calling Forever).

By Sarah Tork.

CHAPTER 1.

Present day, Sat.u.r.day April 20th 2013.

Here's a known fact, in life we're going to meet a lot of people.

Mostly seminormal to normal people, with the odd bunch mixed in from time to time. I'd cla.s.sify myself as part of the 'odd' category... and PROUD of it!

At twenty-two years old, and if you asked my mom, my life was a disappointment for a number of reasons that included...

1: Getting arrested for fighting with my ex best friend Ronnie during my senior year of high school.

2: Not graduating university.

3: Working at an ice cream store at the age of twenty-two.

4: And the biggest disappointment and offence of all... was breaking up with Ben, my boyfriend of five years.

Number four however was the catalyst...leading me down a path where I'd meet 'a man' so incredibly f.u.c.kED in the head, that he made me look.... normal?

Anyways... here I was now, about to enter a room, looking like a million bucks (or at least a few thousand) all thanks to a makeover team from.... h.e.l.l.

My father's fiftieth birthday party, held in a party room at the Pacific Banquet Hall in Ottawa, Ontario, an event my mom probably had planned for months, yet I found out about it last MONDAY, and coincidently on the same day I'd met.... HIM.

By the way, the last twenty-four hours... would haunt me for the rest of my life. Just so you should know, in case you wanted to bail out on hearing what happened yesterday morning, afternoon, night, and then this morning.... to me!

It was wrong... very, very, very, very WRONG!

The itch I felt deep down was real and it was going to take more than a bottle of body wash to get rid of it. Honestly, a team of doctors and skin burning lasers still had a way to go before I felt clean down there again.

d.a.m.n HIM.

d.a.m.n XB.

f.u.c.k it, there's no other way to explain what I just went through except to start from the beginning.

CHAPTER 2.

Wednesday October 31st 2012.

Ottawa, Ontario.

Excuse me, sir, where's your library card?

I imagined asking Ben that in a hushed, s.e.xy voice.

Think phone s.e.x operator.

With my dark brown hair in a messy bun, a short black skirt, a pair of six-inch black heels that were a b.i.t.c.h to walk in, a tight red tank top with a black blazer over it, and lens-less dark framed gla.s.ses, I hoped it read 's.e.xy Librarian'.

Kyle Matthews' annual Halloween bash was Ottawa's best party of the year. I'd been invited every year since I was a freshman in high school. I pushed through ma.s.sive clouds of smoke and through a layer of costumed bodies, trying not to step on any toes.

The DJ raised the volume to a sick beat and the floor turned into a dancing frenzy. I pushed through and stopped in front of one of the drink stations. I squeezed through a pair of greasers who were too drunk to notice me cutting. Filling his red plastic cup at the keg was Ben's best friend.

"Hey number twelve, go long, you're blocking the keg!" I called out at a zombie football player with dark brown hair gelled back.

Charlie flinched, dropping the keg hose and spilling a few sprays of beer over his precious green and yellow jersey. Angrily, he craned his neck to see who had startled him. I expected him to calm down once he saw that it was only me, but his eyes just widened.

"Marisa?" Charlie blanched, looking like he'd seen a ghost. "You came that's.... great."

"I'm surprising Ben." I explained, stretching to reach his ear, because even with heels on, elevating my five foot six ish stature, he still towered over me at six foot three-ish.

I twirled and posed in my costume, hoping he'd appreciate the effort since I didn't normally try to be all s.e.xy. His forehead creased despite the zombie makeup.

"What's wrong?" This was not the sort of response I thought I'd be getting tonight.

He grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, pushing me towards the front door.

"Outta the way... outta of the way!" Charlie screamed at monsters, goblins and clowns in our way. In front of the exit, the shock and confusion of his actions had worn off. I yanked out of his grip, spinning around to face him.

"What the h.e.l.l?" I yelled, flailing my arms out in a 'what the f.u.c.k' stance.

He nervously glanced around the room and wiped pale green makeup off his forehead. "You have to go, Marisa. You shouldn't be here right now."

"What's your problem?" I yelled, beyond p.i.s.sed.

Will nothing I do ever make these people happy?

"Are you too embarra.s.sed to be seen with me too, Charlie?" I accused, my finger in his face.

"No!" He pushed my hand down. "That's not it, it's just.... you should go home."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere 'til you tell me why you're acting like a crazy a.s.shole?" Crossing my arms, I stood firm. I was going to get some answers.

"Marisa, you need Oh s.h.i.t!" He looked up and grabbed his forehead, uh-oh style.

"What the h.e.l.l?" I yelled, turning around to see what had him so riled up not knowing that it was me who was about have her jaw drop in shock.

"Ben?" I murmured, staring at Dracula with his cape around a short, red headed witch, plastered against the window from the porch and making out like crazy.

Tuesday November 20th 2012 I pulled into the parking lot of a local park near both our houses. I could see him sitting on a picnic bench as I parked my beloved red 2002 Ford Focus.

Ben looked so cute in his university sweatshirt and basketball shorts. As I walked over, he flipped his hood off and turned to face me.

Scowling.

"I can't believe you actually decided to show up." He sneered. The tone of his voice made my blood boil.

"I said I'd come, even though you don't deserve to even speak with me. You should be thanking me. I've been more than generous giving you time you don't even deserve!" I replied in a similar tone to his.

He jumped off the picnic bench and marched to a halt right in front of me, towering over me with his six-foot-one frame.

"What the h.e.l.l are you talking about? You've been ignoring me for weeks!" he shouted back.

"Why the h.e.l.l would I want to speak with you, let alone hear your sad excuse? You were plastering your lips against that midget's diseased lips!" I yelled back, tilting my head to face him. His eyes widened in disbelief, obviously flabbergasted.

"Did you go see a doctor? No? Well, you should. In fact, I think I see a few red spots around your lips. Might be infectious." I informed him snidely, digging it in the best I could.

"Shut up, Marisa! You're not funny at all!" he snapped back, jerking his jaw from left to right.

Mission accomplished.

"Yeah okay you're not fooling anyone!" I snapped back, slightly quieter. I knew my face was red, even though I was trying to play it cool, like I didn't care. I f.u.c.king did, though so much so I was about to burst into tears. One wrong word and I was done for.

"I was drunk out of my mind!"

"Oh so that's the excuse you're going to keep rolling with, you were drunk!"

"Yes, it's the f.u.c.king truth! I drank like crazy that night. I was all alone at a party for the thousandth time while you were working at an ice cream store!"

My jaw dropped. "I can't believe you!"

"Well, I can't believe you! You're always late for everything, and expect everyone to always wait for you. The worst part is your f.u.c.king twenty-two and you still work at an ice cream store. You're not even embarra.s.sed, even though all our friends are getting real jobs and moving out!"

That did it.

"There is nothing wrong with my job! I love my job. At least I have a job; you still get money from your mommy and daddy!" I snapped back.

He got in my face. "I have a university degree, and I'm trying to start a business! What the f.u.c.k are you doing with your life? Nothing! All you're good at doing is acting like a pathetic waste of s.p.a.ce!"

Spiteful, low-blow number two, or two-thousand? I wasn't sure at this point. I'd lost count.

Silence.

I needed to calm myself down before I retaliated.

"Well then, I guess it was fate," I told him slowly, quietly. "I'm such a waste of s.p.a.ce, and you're the one going places with your university degree and business plans. You're doing yourself a disservice by being with a pathetic time-waster like myself."

I tucked my hands into my hoodie's pockets and looked to the ground; this was going to be hard for me to do, officially do. But after what he did, after what he said to me, called me, I had no choice.

I exhaled and continued. "I wish you the very best of luck in life..."

Ben let out an exaggerated huff of disbelief, interrupting me, but I kept going.

"I hope everything works out the way you want, and I hope you find someone that's at the level you think you're on," I said slowly, lifelessly.

I didn't look up, I couldn't look up. If I did, then game over.

"What the f.u.c.k are you mumbling about?" Ben exclaimed, irritated, trying to play stupid, and pretending he didn't actually hear me break up with him.

I did.

"You heard me loud and clear. It's over." I told him, then quickly turned around and speed-walked toward my car.

Get to the car Now!

"What?" Ben muttered loudly, confused. "Where do you think you're going? We're not done here!"

I heard his frantic footsteps pound into the gra.s.s, trying to catch up to me, which he did in no time. Ben used to be on the track team during high school, winning sprints easily.

"Stop making this all about you!" he yelled from behind me all of a sudden. I didn't stop, but the speed-walking soon turned into running.

"You're making a fool of yourself!" he yelled right behind me.

Arriving in front of the driver's door, I faced him. He stopped running and was walking toward me, looking disgusted while shaking his head.

"Go away, Ben, don't come anywhere near me!" I ordered, but he didn't listen. "It's over, you don't need to worry about me or what I'm doing, not that you did that before anyway."

CHAPTER 3.

Monday April 15th 2013 Toronto, Ontario.

I glanced at the 4Scoops-branded clock and cringed at the time. Five minutes to closing. The only thing that could make things worse right now was if someone were to walk in wanting ice cream. It's not that it was hard work, scooping ice cream, but I was tired. I eyed dirty tables and sighed, depressed.