Poisoned Ivy

•Chapter 7

"Bro, what the hell was that today?" Spencer's grabs a bottled water from the fridge and sits at the island in the center of the kitchen. I dry the last dish and put it in the cabinet.
"What was what about?" I ask knowing exactly what he was talking about. I just didn't feel like talking about it.
"You know what I'm talking about. Chick at the lot today."
I grab a water from the fridge and slide onto the barstool across from Spencer. I was still pissed about what happened earlier and I really wasn't in the mood to talk about it. But I know Spence and I know he isn't going to drop it until I clear it up. I take a sip of water and give him the what do you think face. 

"I was helping her with her car. Did you not notice her car wouldn't start?"
Spencer's laughs. "Yeah I noticed. I also noticed you wanted her hood ass too. Bro what is wrong with you? I mean I can admit she is a hot piece of"-
I shoot Spencer a hard glare clenching my jaw. I'm surprised at how angry I feel about his disrespectful comment. He stops mid sentence with his mouth hanging open. He looks more confused than I feel right now.

"Whoa, so I'm right. You do like little miss hip hop." 
I take another sip of water never taking my eyes off of Spencer who was really pissing me off. I'm starting to see what she meant when she said we were asses.
"Bro, I think you should leave." I advise him. I don't want to have to kick Spencer's ass in my house over a girl I barely know. Not that kicking his ass would be hard. I'm just working on my anger issues and kicking my best friends ass would be a major setback.

"Come on Rome man, I'm messing with you bro, but seriously that's a waste of time. You need to stick with what you know, like Brooke. She's throwing it at you like a shortstop dude."

I crack a smile. Spence really has a stupid way with words. For as long as I've known him the only thing he thinks about is food, sex, and baseball, in that order. Sometimes the worlds collide and he comes up with stupid lines like that.
"I'm not  into Brooke. She's not my type."

"Bro, GIRL is your type. Especially after what I witnessed today. I mean , it looked like you wanted to chase her car out of the parking lot."  He grabs his book bag and heads for the front door.
"Look, I got your back , but let me be the first to tell you, forget about the black Barbie bro. She isn't in your league."

I open the front door to let him out. He hops in his black on black Mercedes and speeds off. 
I close the door  and walk back into the kitchen.

"You didn't have to wash the dishes Mr."-

"Roman, Lita, How many times do I have to tell you, call me Roman please."

"Mr. Roman sir, I could have taken care of the dishes."

I smile at her  as I toss my water  bottle into the recycling container.

"I don't mind cleaning my own my mess Lita, but thank you." 
She does one last wipe down of the counters and walks  down the hall.
I check my phone. 3 missed calls from my mom. She must finally have some free time. Too bad she's all the way in Italy so her free time does nothing for me. I toss the phone on the counter and head to my room.
I don't know how to feel about what happened today.  All I know is I can't stop thinking about her and I didn't care what league she was in, I had to see her again.
___________________________________
I shoot straight up in my bed. The covers twisted around me like vines. In a panic I struggle to break  free from their grip and slide to the edge of my bed. I can hardly catch my breath when I realize it was only a dream. The same dream. I wait to regain my focus before I decide to make my way to the kitchen for some water. I reach over for my phone  and remember I left it in the kitchen last night. My body feels like a slab of cold concrete as I drag my self from my bed and down the long dark hall to the staircase. A flash of lightening followed by a roar of thunder seems to shake every window in the main hall. I feel a sense of relief when I realize my little brother Luca isn't  here. Storms freak him out and there is no calming him down once he gets started. I hurry down to the kitchen and grab my phone.  33 missed calls.
"Damn!"
I open my log to see 15 missed calls from my mother. The rest were from Spence, Brooke, and some other people from school. I look at the time and decide to give my mom a call back. You would think I should be worried about 15 missed calls from her but I know better. They are guilt trip calls. She usually does  this when she has to go back on something she's supposed to do.