Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Wednesday Briefs: Dallas in Wonderland II: Chapter Seven

Happy Hump Day one and all! This will be a short work week for me. Sarah and I are leaving Friday for Indiana, to visit Katie, but we'll be back Sunday. If I get a chance, I might write something to fill the gap, otherwise, when I get back. In the meantime, here is my Wednesday flash. I realized recently that I've been doing this for three years now, started the flash in  February of 2011. It was the Silver Flash then, and had connections with a publisher I would not be stupid enough to either sub to or buy from. Now we've broadened our horizons, and the Wednesday Briefs is open to all.

So join us this week and every week, and share in our writing and our joy. Flash fiction for everyone!

As you may recall from last weeks' episode, Dallas agreed to meet his ex for lunch. Not from any desire for his company, but to find out what he knows of Wonderland. Will Quentin spill the beans? Find out in this week's chapter. Then don't forget to see what the other Briefers are up to. Their links follow my tale. Enjoy!

Dallas in Wonderland II: Chapter Seven

If Dallas expected to fluster his ex, he was sorely disappointed by the lack of reaction he received at his question. In fact, if anything, Quentin seemed... coy, maybe? But not embarrassed or secretive. On the other hand, he wasn’t trying to pretend he had no idea what Dallas was talking about. Point for Dallas’s side. Assuming he was keeping score.

Hell yeah, he was keeping score. He needed all the points he could get.

Quentin fluttered his long eyelashes, a simpering smile playing about his lips, as he played coquette to the hilt. Dallas forced himself to bide his time. He’d asked the question. Now to wait for whatever answer he might receive. God knows if it would be the truth. But Quentin must have asked him here for a reason, right?

While he waited, he took the spoon for his tea and ran it around the rim of the cup, focusing on keeping the spoon balanced so he’d have an excuse not to look at his ex.

“How are your sessions with Samuel coming?”

The spoon dropped onto the table with a sharp clatter, then bounced to the floor. Dallas took the opportunity to dive for it. He felt his cheeks flame just hearing Quentin say Samuel’s name so casually, as if he had a right to. If he’d referred to him as Doctor Levi, then Dallas could have entertained the belief that their relationship, whatever it was, was strictly professional.

That was going to be difficult to do now, hearing him use the doctor’s given name.

Of course, it also bolstered Dallas’ belief that Quentin had been in Samuel’s office, a fact which the good doctor had never corroborated. So maybe he needed to take the bad with the good.

He managed to regain his seat, just as the waitress returned to fawn over Quentin. Taking their lunch order was just a byproduct of her fascination with Dallas’ ex. Dallas wasn’t really hungry, but he reasoned that he could always take it home for later. So he ordered a pepperoni calzone, paying no attention to what Quentin ordered. The waitress took their menus. Dallas wasn’t surprised to see her slip a small piece of paper to Quentin. Undoubtedly her phone number. Not the first time for that either. He refrained from rolling his eyes once she made her departure.

Quentin’s smirk only grew broader.

“Do you miss us, baby? Miss the way we used to be?” He sipped at his drink, watching Dallas over the rim. Dallas couldn’t help but notice the red smears left on the glass, remembering how much he hated the feel of the stuff on Quentin’s lips.

And wasn’t that just a fucking ridiculous question to ask?

Without pausing for thought, Dallas blurted out, “Hell no.”

Quentin pursed his lips in a pout.

“I’m sorry if I offended you,” Dallas said in a voice laced with sarcasm. “Maybe I should have lied.”

“It doesn’t matter, the truth has a funny way of coming out, you know?” Quentin set the glass down and dabbed at his lips with a napkin, before tossing it to a corner of the table.

“Self-delusional much?” Dallas muttered. He busied himself with his tea. The hot liquid soothed his throat and warmed his insides.

“Do you talk about me to Samuel?” Quentin continued. He lowered his lashes over his pale blue eyes, giving Dallas what he probably meant to be a sultry look, but Dallas was singularly unimpressed. “Talk about the way we were? When we were so good? So young and in love?”

Dallas snorted. “I’m still young. And we were never good, but you just keep on telling yourself that, if it helps you sleep at night. I’m guessing fucking all those other guys doesn’t do it for you?”

“Ah, Dallas, if you only knew the half of it...”

Dallas shook his head to clear it. The thing was, he really didn’t care, not any more. It didn’t matter and it didn’t hurt. That was ancient history. No, what he wanted to know was about Samuel, and how his and Quentin’s lives intersected. Had he replaced one psychopath with another?

Dallas was beginning to seriously question his taste in men.

“Look, Quentin, what’s done is done. And frankly, I don’t want to hear it. You couldn’t keep it in your pants, I caught you, and I left you. There’s nothing else to say. About that. What I want to know is what’s going on between you and Samuel?”

There, he’d asked the question. Straight out. Let him try and twist his way out of this one, if he could.

“Samuel’s quite the man, isn’t he, Dallas? No wonder you’re so taken with him. I think most of his patients are, to be honest.”

Dallas’ blood pressure was quickly rising at the bait Quentin threw out to him. Maybe he was playing right into Quentin’s intentions, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“I’m not just his patient!” he barked out, surprising even himself with the ferocity of his tone. Luckily the dining room was pretty well empty. Even so, he felt the disapproving stare of the waitress from the wait station across the room. He chose to ignore it. If they didn’t like the way he talked, let them throw him out. There were other pizza joints he could eat at. Plenty of them.

“Do you delude yourself that he loves you?” The pity in Quentin’s voice was evident. “Well, you aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last. But just know this. He isn’t for you, and never was. And do put that fork down, dear. You’re making a spectacle of yourself.”

Dallas glanced down in surprise. When had he picked up the utensil? Did he really intend to throw it at Quentin’s forehead? He dropped it quickly onto the table top.

“That’s my good boy,” Quentin cooed. Before Dallas could respond, he added, “Would you like to go back there?”

Dallas’ eyes grew wide.

to be continued

Now see what the other Briefers have been up to!

1 comment:

  1. Play it cool, Dallas. Play it close and careful. This is a tricky one