Chapter Twenty-One | Janitors Closet, Again

Zaheer reminded me of the Shadow Man from The Princess and The Frog. He stood at 6 feet and 9 inches, his legs legs stretching past his torso, and his arms reaching down to his knees. His skin is the color of a paper bag, but one of those paper bag from Chipotle with all the writing and art on it. I don't know if the many tattoos that covered his face and body were supposed to be used for an intimidation factor to make up for his lack of muscle build or if he just really loved tattoos.

He's always been somewhat too tall for his build; maybe if he were a few inches shorter he would be all the somewhat less terrifying. It was as if he stopped growing only to be stretched on one of those medieval racks a half-foot more. His face was mostly obscured by a black scraggly beard that clung to his skin like winter ravaged ivy tendrils.

His heavy eyelids always hang at half mast, giving him a sleepy, bored look and the rest of his fleshy face sags in the same general pattern. As he stares at me from across the room, I try not to look away, try not to let him think he has any power over me like he does all the other men in his life, but then his dark lips stretch into his familiar menacing gap toothed smile and I instantly turned my head.

"Little Asher," His voice deep and his words are slowly drawled from out his mouth. "Or should I just say Asher now since you're clearly not little anymore. Nah, you're a grown man now." Zaheer had the kind of voice that whenever he spoke, every head in the room would turn. He had that rich, silky tone. He speaks as if he controls the world, and a part of me think he does.

My dad stands beside me with a wide tooth smile as he stared at the man. He stared at Zaheer like he was a star in the sky, eyes gleaming and face stretched into an unnerving smile. He doesn't seem to notice the uncomfortable look on my face, he doesn't seem to notice anything really, only the man that sat in front of us behind his mahogany desk.

"Don't be shy, c'mon here." Zaheer finally stands up from his seat, his 6'9 figure coming into full effect. He gestures for me to come around the desk, indirectly asking for a hug.

I blinked at him, before turning to my dad and seeing that he was already staring at me. "Don't embarrass me," his facial expression reads as he nods forward at Zaheer.

I exhaled a low sigh, before making my way around the desk. Instead of embracing him in a hug, I extended my hand out instead. Zaheer looked down at my hand, the slit in his brow raising up at me.

"Handshake? Now you know we don't do that around here." His laughed sounded like thunder to my ears. I hate thunder.

He pulled me in for a hug, and I'm instantly hit with his familiar scent that makes me shiver. He always smelled like that, like he had spilled cheap cologne all over himself. It was never a pleasant scent and truthfully it gave me headaches sometimes. He rubbed my back as we hug, and I just stand there awkwardly as he does it.

"You've really grown Asher. How are old you now? Twenty?"

"Eighteen, actually."

"So, still a grown man." He laughs aloud, and I could hear my father chuckle from the side. However, he doesn't seem to notice the way Zaheer slyly slides his hand down my back a little far for comfort, and I immediately break the hug and send him a look that he gladly returns with a more amused one of his own, his smirk causing me to grimace.

I quickly retreat back over my dad, taking a seat in one of the chairs placed in front of Zaheer's desk. I turned to my dad to see his attention elsewhere completely unaware of the panicked look on my face.

I hate Zaheer. I hate everything about him, and I especially hate being around him. When I was younger and I would see him, he would just give me high fives and fist bumps, but after my mother's passing his interactions have gotten too way friendly for my liking.

"So how was your stay in London? Try anything different? Meet any girls?" Zaheer walked over the liquor cabinet in his office and began to fix himself a drink.

"It was okay." I answer dryly. I didn't want to prolong our stay here any longer than I had to.

"That's good," Pouring himself a glass of Scotch on the rocks, he turned to my dad and gestures towards a glass.

I looked to him with raised brows, but to my surprise he shakes his head and declined the offer. "Zaheer, you know I don't drink anymore." He told.

"Oh, I forgot you're recovering." The word bounced off his tongue playfully, before he turned to me. "Asher? You could use some hair on your chest."

"I don't drink, actually." I lied. As if I'd ever take any thing to drink from his weird ass.

Shaking his head, Zaheer cracks a sly smile. "Just like your daddy. From head to toe."

"As he should be. That's my first born," My dad said, before placing a hand on my lap as he laughed. "He's a reflection of me."

Zaheer smirked into his glass as he down his drink, his gaze never leaving mine. "I can tell." He said.

There is nothing more creepy to me than a person with emotions that don't match the situation. Zaheer always seemed so relax and calm, like he has the upper hand in everything. It doesn't sit right with me, and I can't wrap my head around why my dad does business with someone like this. He's creepy and I'm pretty sure he's a pervert.

He eyes me from behind the desk as my dad rambles on to the side about some investments, but Zaheer wasn't listening and neither was I. He never wavered his calculated stare, studying my face for something. But I never bite. Not in my words and not in my face. I won't invite him into my head. Never.

••••

After being forced to have dinner and catch up with Zaheer yesterday, I was exhausted. I almost went through an entire packs of cigs last night after we got home because I was so stressed and tired. My dad didn't make it any better by trying to talk to me all last night about why I should respect Zaheer and be thankful for all he's doing for us. Please, the only thing that man has done for us is put us in hot water with the feds, because I'm sure if they find out one of my dad's largest investors is a well known crime boss they'll put everyone involved behind bars.

I didn't tell my dad that though. I just let him get all his anger out instead which turned into him lecturing me all last night.

Now I was paying the price for it. Sitting in homeroom, I was about half dead as I tried to focus on whatever the hell we were doing. The class is quiet as it always is in the early mornings, the students doing their assigned work while our teacher sat behind her desk on Fashion Nova browsing through dresses.

I had my head down on my desk resting on my folded arms. I decided to try and get a quick nap in before we had to leave, but when I feel someone's stare on me from behind I lifted my head up a little and turned around expecting to see Liam with his eyes locked my way, but to my surprise he was turned in the opposite direction. He's on his phone, and he was trying not to make it obvious by resting a cheek against the palm of his hand with his forearm rested on the desk.

Shrugging the feeling off, I placed my head back down on the desk, but just before I could close my eyes, I feel my  phone vibrate in my pocket. I raised a brow, wondering who the hell is texting me this early in the morning, but when I see the contact name and ID photo, I rolled my eyes.

I read the one worded message twice, before turning around to see Liam still in the same position he was in before, not even looking my way. I let out low sigh, before deciding to reply.

"What?"

"I need you to help me with something."

I turned around to him to see he was looking back at me this time. Our eyes met for a brief moment, before I turned my attention back to my phone.

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

I kissed my teeth, before turning to Liam and seeing him already staring at me with that glare of his. His sharp brows knitted into a thin line, and I mirrored with a look of my own.

"N-O! Definition — adverb, not at all; to no extent."

"Suddenly, I can't read."

Before I could even get my fingers ready to type my reply, the school bell rung from above our heads and everyone started to gather their things. I didn't hesitate to grab my backpack and make my way out my desk and out the class. Sadly, I barley even got a foot out the classroom before I felt someone's grip on my collar, yanking me out the classroom with them.

"What the- Liam what the hell?"

The boy ignored me, tightening his grip around my uniforms collar as he dragged me through the crowded hall, ignoring the stares of our peers.

"Let me go!" I said, trying to pry his hands off my shirt, but his grip was a lot tighter than I would have expected from him.

"No."

"Help, he's kidnapping me!" I shouted out to the passing students who only stared at the scene wide eyed.

Liam rolled his eyes, waving the bystanders off with his free hand. "Move out of the way. Nothing to see here. Go back to drinking your Starbucks."

"Is no one seriously going to do anything?" I asked the bypassing students who just stared at us blankly.

"Hush up, Montgomery!"

Without warning, Liam tossed me into the janitors closet before coming in and closing the door behind himself.  He stared at me with narrow brows as I crossed my arms across my chest in defense, trying my best to ignore the strong bleach scent that came from the many cleaning products in the room.

"So, is this going to be our official secret meeting spot, because if so, I have a few complaints." I said to him, and he rolled his eyes exhaling a huff of air.

"I need your help." He said.

"I already told you no," I reminded, leaning back against the concrete walls of the closet. "I don't know why that word is so hard for you to comprehend."

"I've only been told no one time in my life," Liam informs as he takes a seat on one of the upside-down placed buckets. "I was seven and asked my father to buy me a castle for my birthday. He had said no because he already had rented out Disney World for the entire weekend for me and my friends."

I shrugged my shoulders at him, not entirely too sure what he wanted me to do with the information from that story. "My answer still stands Liam. I'm not helping you with whatever it is you need."

"And why not? I helped you before!"

"Please, when have you even helped me?"

Liam's chestnut-brown eyes looked around the room as he thought for a moment, his fingers tapping softly against the side of the bucket. "In fifth grade when Mrs. Jenkins said she'd throw us a pizza party if everyone can finish the one minute math quiz on time, and you got stuck on the last problem and I literally gave you the answer from across the room."

"You literally called me a dumbass in front of everyone right after."

Liam kisses his teeth, standing back on his feet. "I still helped you."

I withheld an eye roll, fearing if I sent the boy another one my eyes might get stuck in the back of my head from constantly doing it. "Get someone else to help you." I said.

"I can't," He whined aloud, his shoulder drooping as he stomped over to me like a child. "I don't feel comfortable asking anyone else this."

"Well, what the hell is it then?"

Liam exhaled a heavy sigh, his eyes quickly darting elsewhere as he fumbled with his fingers. "I need you to teach me how to . . . apologize." He mumbled the last word, his voice just above a whisper, but I heard it.

"You want me to teach you how to apologize?"

"Don't repeat it," He shushed me, shoving my chest a little. "It's already embarrassing enough I said it once."

I raised my brow up at him. "How do you not know how to apologize? It's not rocket science."

"I've never done it before because I'm never sorry," Liam leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes darting to the floor. "I never had a reason to apologize, but now I just feel that I have to."

"What happened?"

"This may come as a shock to you because it definitely was for me, but I found something out about Corbin and it's pretty fucking big," Rambling, Liam began to pace around the room. "But Corbin's-"

"Mom works for your dad, yeah, I know." I cut him off, causing the boy to stop in his tracks, turning to me with wide eyes.

"H-how did you know that?" He stammered.

"Because Corbin told us like the second day of us meeting. You were too busy tweeting about how much you hate it here that it must've slipped right passed you." I cocked my brow upwards at him, giving him an once over. "Is that why you want to apologize to him? Because his mom is working for your dad?"

Liam exhaled a heavy sigh, stomping over to me and placing his hands onto both my shoulders. "It's not just that. Yesterday I went to visit my father at the company and she's the janitor there, and the people there treat her like . . . well trash."

"It's sad really," He said, his eyes looking up mine for a moment before he tucked his lips and turned them elsewhere. "Because she's so freaking nice and has such a sweet spirit. You know, she spent like fifteen minutes showing me Corbin's baby pictures she keep in her wallet and oh my God- he was such a chunky baby."

"Really?" I raised a brow at him as I tried to picture a chunky Corbin, but before I could even do it Liam exhaled a low groan and pushed himself away from me.

"Anyways, she also talked to me about she traveled from Cuba to America pregnant in hopes of giving Corbin a better life, and that she was so proud and even cried when he got accepted into Stratford. That's why she's so hard on him all the times because she just wants him to reach his full potential and live the life he deserves."

Liam pressed his back against the wall, running a hand through his curls. That's when I realized that he must feel pretty bad, because if there's one thing I know, it's that Liam Claremont never moves a hair out of place for any reason. For me to see him run his fingers through his hair, messing and tangling his brown locks that I know he spent hours working on this morning must mean the guilt is really eating him alive.

"I'm such a dick." He sighed.

I walked over to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, . . . you are."

Liam sent me a side-eye and I shrugged my shoulders at his stare. "If you're waiting for me to disagree, it's gonna be a long day."

"I'm being serious Asher," He rolled his eyes at me, before crossing his arms over his chest like a child. "What do I do? I don't know how to apologize and make it actually sound sincere."

"Just be yourself. Start off by saying something nice."

"Which one? I can't do both!" He panicked.

"You're thinking too much into it," I told him, pulling him off the wall and straightening his slouched posture. "Just don't think about it. Go to Corbin this afternoon in rehearsal and tell him straight up how you feel Parris!"

The boy blinked at me, and that's when I realized my mistake. "—Liam, my bad."

He shook his head no. "It's okay. I like when you say my name." I didn't realize how close our faces were until I looked down to see his lips only a few inches from mine. His lips were a pale pink that reminded me of a freshly bloomed rose bud. The top lip was thinner, but not too thin, and it had a natural cupid's bow; the bottom one was larger and more plush.

It's his lips that make the light in the rest of the room get a little bit darker. The world stops spinning as he leans in with promise scrawled on his cupids bow. My stomach turns over as my mind races to places I didn't know it could go until I realize we are still in the janitors closet and God knows when he'll be back in here. His eyes connect with mine as my world shatters and I return his stare with another look that reads, "another time".

Though his lips are pretty, it is the feel of them that sends my mind into a sensual state of intoxication. That's why I reach toward his face and touch them lightly before the urge to kiss him takes over and we end up doing something we have no business doing in a place we have no business being at.

The school bells suddenly rings from above our heads, and Liam's finally break his stare to look up at the peeling ceiling. He returns his eyes on me.

Fuck it.

Without warning, I placed a quick peck on his lips that catches him off guard for a bit, before he sinks into my lips for a only a moment before I quickly pulled away. His lips are always have this softness, passion and the promise of the sweetness to come. It's nice, really.

A deep curve grows on his lips that makes the world stop. A smile that brings back a million memories in a split second. That precious eye-smile of his coming into play. I can't believe I'm admitting this, but Liam has always had a smile that makes you feel happy about being alive just a bit more human. It makes my chest feel funny and my private area tingle.

"Remember to wait ten seconds." He reminded, turning on his heels and grabbing his belongings from off the floor. The pad of his fingers are pressed against his lips as if he's afraid that if he removed them, the warmth of my lips from being previously there would leave. I nodded as I watched him open the janitors closet door and quickly make his way out.

I suppressed a smile. Liam's usual beige tone had a rosiness to it, it was cute.

••••
Excuse any mistakes or errors

It's just been a week but still lol