“A retest?” Elijah’s confusion was obvious.
I shook my head again as much as his steady touch would allow. “A way to e-earn it.”
“Earn it?” His face hardened as understanding stared to set in. “How did he want you to earn it, Rylie?”
“By . . . By . . .” A sob I was unprepared for tore from my throat as the tears sprung up again. “I don’t know. He didn’t give me details.”
“Son of a bitch. Did that asshole put his hands on you?”
I couldn’t look at him, but the tremor that shook my body at the memory of Mr. Parson’s touch was all the answer he needed.
“Bastard!” Elijah pulled me to him, wrapping me tight enough in his arms that I could feel the way his chest heaved against mine. I was terrified of what he planned to do, but I couldn’t stop crying long enough to ask him. “Shh. It’s okay.” His hand glided carefully up and down my back. “I’m gonna fix this. It’s going to be okay. Shh.”
It took until my hysterics quieted into erratic sniffles for my brain to process his words. “What do you mean you’re going to fix this? Elijah, you can’t—”
His hands framed my face again, forcing me to look at him. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But he said if I told anyone, cheating would be the least of my problems. He could ruin everything. It would be my word against his. No one would believe—”
“Don’t. Worry. About it. I will handle this. I promise.” He planted brief warm kiss on my forehead and—unlike Mr. Parson’s—Elijah’s touch brought out all the right kinds of goose bumps. “Now get cleaned up and I’ll drive you home.”
“You got your car back already?”
“Replacement. Don’t ask.”
I wasn’t planning to. “My car’s in the lot.”
I flipped on the sink and splashed cold water on my face, trying to ease away some of the atrocious red splotches.
“I’ll drop it at your place later. You're in no condition to drive right now.”
“You don’t have to—” The sink shut off and I turned to face Elijah, just to have his index finger pressed to my lips, effectively silencing my feeble protest.
“Let’s go. Do you need anything from your locker?”
I shook my head and he nodded, scooping my bag and excess books from the bathroom tile where I’d dumped them and led the way out into the hall. Thank goodness they were empty. Who knew what people would think if they saw the two of us coming out of a bathroom together.
COMING SOON-JASMINE CAROLINA
Loving Gabby
Coming Summer 2015
Gabby
Present Day
Flipping through the pictures the private investigator gave me, I shake my head as tears spring to my eyes.
It wasn’t hard to locate Braxton Crew, the great love of my life. He always knew his name would be in lights, that he would someday be known for his music. By the time he graduated high school, he was a household name. Finding him would have taken nothing more than a simple Google search if he was still on tour, but he’s not. He hasn’t been for over a year now, making things difficult. So I had to take things into my own hands.
First, I stare at the pictures of him. He looks almost exactly the same, except for the fact that he’s cut off his shoulder length red hair. He looks like the man I always knew he would be, instead of the boy I knew. There are so many, mostly from tours and gigs, but there are a couple personal ones as well, probably taken from his social media accounts. There’s Brax on stage, Brax on the Crew Caravan, Brax with the Crew Crew—stupidest name for the band that plays with him. I was there when he came up with the brilliant idea back in his junior year, and I tried to talk him out of it, but he loves it—, Brax with fans, Brax doing something goofy at the mall. Even after all this time, he hasn’t lost his smile. I admire that about him.
Then I glance at the pictures of his wife. There aren’t many, just three. She’s stunning, with long auburn hair, dark green eyes, full lips and a glorious smile. If I could have hand-picked the perfect woman for Braxton to be with, it’d have been her. The other two pictures she’s in, she’s with someone. There’s one of her and Brax on their wedding day, which I heard took place in the Bahamas. And then there’s one of the two of them with their son. His name is Max, and he’s adorable from the picture Brax put on his website. He’s smiling at the baby, but his eyes are on her. I can feel his love for her consuming me just by looking at a picture.
He’s looking at her the way he used to look at me, when we were young and falling in love beneath the stars, two teenagers who had no clue that someday, the rug would be pulled out from under our feet. He’s looking at her like she hung the moon, and from all my investigator has told me about her, it’s not too far off to assume that maybe she has.
It’s hard enough for me to accept that because of what I did to us five years ago, we’ll never have our happily ever after, but it’s even harder to know that he has a wife, a child, an entire life that doesn’t include me.
But it’s about to.
I place the pictures back into the manilla envelope, then tuck the envelope into my purse as the sound of little feet reaches my ears. My purse is at my side, hiding away all the information I need to approach Braxton for the first time in five years.
I haven’t come to this decision easily. There were a lot of factors to consider before I even tried to find him. I had to consider his new life, which will be turned upside down by my sudden reappearance. I had to consider his wife, and what type of woman she is, and how she’ll handle me being around. And lastly, I had to consider the children.
Little feet run and screech to a halt right in front of me, and I look up to see my little girl. Her red curls are all over her face, and I grin as I lean forward to give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, Lovebug, let Mommy do your hair,” I say, positioning her between my legs.
She nestles herself there, grabbing a pillow from the couch to put her high enough for me to reach. Pulling her curls apart with my fingers, I start to drag her hair backward and form the front of her hair into two Frenchbraids. I connect the two braids in the back by forming one braid, and I let the rest of her curls hang down her shoulders.
“Mommy, can I wear my purple dress to see Aunt Sisi?” Bria asks, speaking for the first time since she’s emerged from her room.
Sisi is my best friend from high school—her real name is Sienna. She and her husband are Bria’s godparents, and we make a trip up to Crawley to visit them twice a year, and they come visit us with their family twice a year. We don’t live far from each other, about a five hour drive, but we each have our own lives now.
“You can bring your purple dress with you, but we’re not going to see Aunt Sisi,” I respond.
My daughter turns around, staring at me in disbelief. I love when she asks questions, or is just curious in general. She scrunches her nose in the cutest way, her eyebrows furrow, and she cocks her head to the side. That’s precisely what she’s doing right now.
“But you said we’re going to Crawley?”
Her sentences often are statements, but the way her voice rises at the end, they sound like questions to me.
“We are going to Crawley. Uncle Mikey got us a good deal on a beach house and you and Mommy are going to stay there for a few months. We’re going to spend this time together, and I’m going to introduce you to some people, and it’s going to be the time of our lives, okay?”
She nods, but she looks like she still doesn’t quite comprehend.
This home is the only home she’s ever known. The idea that we’ll both have to leave it soon isn’t sitting right with me, so once she comprehends what’s about to happen when we walk out of these doors for the last time, I know it’s not going to sit right with her either.
I watch her expressions morph and change and distort as the wheels turn in her head. She’s honestly giving a lot of thought to this, and I’m afraid of what her reaction will be once she puts al
l the pieces of the puzzle together. Suddenly, her eyes widen and she shakes her head as it dawns on her. She glares at me before her shoulders slump in defeat.
“We’re not coming back?”
Oh, my goodness. How that question affects my heart.
No, neither of us will be coming back to Harlow. I’ve packed up all our things and had them sent ahead of us to the beach house. When we arrive, we’ll only have a day of down time before all the shit hits the fan, and our lives get turned upside down, even more than they were a month ago.
“No, we’re not coming back, Bug. But we’re going to have an amazing time, I promise.”
She sits down on her beanbag chair, crossing her legs. Through glassy green eyes, she stares at me. “Can we get a puppy?”
I close my eyes, unsure of whether I can answer that question right now or not. I’ve got enough on my plate moving us to another city, taking care of both of us, and getting all my ducks in a row. I don’t know if I can bring another living being into the chaos that is our lives.
“I don’t know, Bria. We’re going to be so busy having fun, I don’t think we’ll have time to take care of a puppy. Let’s see how things go the first month, and then I’ll think about it, okay?”
She nods, but she still looks sad.
That’s the hardest part about having a four year old as smart as my Bria. She knows exactly how to play me and every other adult in her life ot get exactly what she wants. That’s the worst part about her being an only child, and the only niece of a couple who has no children. We’ve spoiled her to the point that she doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’.
Sighing, I get up from my place on the couch and crouch down in front of her. I take her hands in mine and stare into her beautiful eyes, which are filling up with tears.
“We can stop at a pet shop on our way to Crawley, okay? But you can only have a puppy if you agree to take care of it.”
She nods, frantically, the light returning to her eyes.
“Do you want a boy puppy or a girl puppy?” I ask, giving her a smile.
“A girl puppy.”
“What are you going to name your puppy?”
She makes her unbelievably adorable thinking face again, this time reaching up to twirl her fingers through one of her loose curls. She stares up at me, then shakes her head.
“Can I pick when we get it?”
I laugh, realizing that my daughter is much smarter than I gave her credit for.
“Sure, Bug. Go get your suitcase. It’s almost time to go.”
I watch as she races upstairs to get her Tweety Bird suitcase, reveling in the idea that she has no idea what’s truly going on. She has no clue about the double meaning behind my words.
COMING SOON-JASMINE CAROLINA
Take It All
Reflection Series #1
Coming Summer 2015
Aislinn
Four Years Ago
Fat bitches need love, too-Neanderthal
His is the first face I notice when I walk through the front doors of Barton Public Academy. At six feet tall, with tousled auburn hair, stunning chocolate brown eyes, and a smile that would instantly drop even a nun’s panties, that’s not a surprise at all.
It’s me who notices him first, because a million things go through my mind the minute I lay eyes on him.
Do I have spinach in my braces?
Is my hair too flat? Everyone seems to be rocking the Snooki poufs these days.
Does he think I’m totally lame for wearing a Harry Potter backpack with a Gryffindor tie wrapped around my waist?
Oh, God. Why did I wear overalls today?
I instantly start smoothing my hair down, even though I know there’s nothing I can do to tame these unsightly curls, but I do my best anyway.
He’s standing off to the side, against a row of lockers talking to some girl, and he glances up at me momentarily but doesn’t say anything as I walk past him. I’m holding my backpack against my shoulder, averting my gaze from the row of football players that are walking in the opposite direction that I am.
I glance at him once more, and then I make to walk around the corner when I hear it.
“Did you see how she looked at Breckin?” Football Dude Number One says.
So much for going unnoticed. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
“You can’t blame her, Tommy. Fat bitches need love, too,” Football Dude Number Two says, and not a moment later, the rest of them burst into raucous laughter.
I screech to a halt and try to act like the comments and the laughter don’t hurt me, but I feel my heart stutter to a stop inside my chest. I turn on my heel and stalk up toward them, taking deep breaths and digging my fingernails into the palms of my hands so that I don’t start crying.
“Hey, fuck you,” I tell the second guy, and I glare daggers at the one called Tommy. “You’re nothing but a bunch of below average high school jocks. You’ll peak at seventeen, and the skinny cheerleading whores you’re dating will either be fat or pregnant by the time I get accepted to an Ivy League school. You wanna know what our lives look like ten years from now? I’ll be the CEO of a plus-sized fashion empire, and you—” I look at their clothes, “you’ll be lucky if I let you wash my car.”
They both look like they’ve swallowed something vile, but Tommy straightens up, and laughs at me.
“You’ve got spinach in your teeth.” He smirks, like he’s telling me something that I don’t know.
No matter how much I brush or floss after one of Mom’s “green” diet shakes, I always end up with spinach in my braces.
I make it a point to go to the bathroom and pick it out later as I roll my eyes at him. “Yeah? And you’ve probably got a small dick. Neanderthal.”
As I try to turn away from the group of guys, I run straight into a tall, built guy and I go tumbling to the floor after my books are knocked from my hands because of the impact. I close my eyes and wince when I hit the ground, and before I know it, a large, rugged hand reaches down to help me up. Reluctantly, I take it, and the guy pulls me to my feet. I don’t get a good look at him, because once I’m standing on solid ground, he begins worrying over my books which are strewn across the floor. I watch as he stacks them in his hands, my cheeks flaming. He turns around with a large smile on his face, and my heart drops to my stomach. Oh, no.
It’s Breckin.
I’ve heard about him. Of course, I never thought I’d get to see the Breckin in the flesh.
“I’m so sorry about that,” he says, handing me my books.
I’m completely frozen in shock. I’m staring into his large, brown eyes and wishing that I were anywhere but here right now. He gives me another grin before extending his hand for a shake.
My hand seems to take forever to reach back and grasp his, but when it does, holy shit. Electricity. We shake hands and I avert my gaze. He moves his head slightly to the right like he’s gesturing for me to follow him. I do, but I’m not sure exactly how I’m getting my feet to move because I’m completely flustered right now.
“I’m Breckin. Why don’t you let me walk you to your next class? Maybe then the guys won’t bother you,” he says.
I stop short, and I turn on him. “I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, Breckin.” I say his name with disdain. I can’t stand when guys think girls need protecting. I sure as Hell don’t. “Your football buddies have the IQ of chimpanzees. I don’t need your help getting them not to bother me.”
He smiles a bit, then shrugs. “Okay, well how about you let me walk you because I want your company?”
No matter how independent I think I am, I don’t have it in me to say no to that. What’s the worst that could happen?
“Sure.”
We walk in silence, him still holding my books when we reach the staircase.
“Is your class on this floor?” he asks.
“No. Third.” I gulp. The last thing I want to do is pass out right now in front of the hottest guy I’ve ever seen
after walking up three flights of stairs.
He must see me tense up, because he places a hand at the small of my back and leads me away from the staircase. I turn to give him an inquisitive look, and he flashes me a knowing smile.
“I had to do suicides during practice this morning. The last thing I want to do is walk up three flights of stairs. We can take the elevator,” he says.
We turn the corner, and there’s an elevator. I’m incredibly grateful to him for leading me away, because I was about to make a fool out of myself. He presses the button, and I just stare at him, taking in his appearance.
He wears a form fitting v-neck t-shirt, jeans that hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing regular black Vans. He walks with an easy grace, like he doesn’t give a shit about anything, but at the same time, he commands attention from everyone that passes us by. Everyone’s looking at him the same way that I’m looking at him, and that makes me uneasy. I know there’s not a chance in the world of me ever being able to be with him, but still. I don’t want to have to see that every girl here is thinking of him the same way that I am.
“We should be friends,” he says, at the exact moment that the elevator dings and the doors open for us to step inside. He places a hand against the opening and allows me to walk in. When I’m inside and so is he, he smirks at me. “Nice backpack. What House do you think you’d be sorted into?”
I don’t realize until he’s done with his question that I’ve been holding my breath. I was waiting for him to make fun of me. I exhale, giving him a shy smile. I’m glad he’s striking up conversation, because if he weren’t, this would be a long, awkward elevator ride. “Ravenclaw. I like to think Luna and I would have been best friends.”
He laughs and the doors to the elevator close. He leans against the farthest wall and sighs. “I think I’d have been a Slytherin.” I must make a surprised expression because he grins. “Not that kind of Slytherin. I wouldn’t be a little tool like Malfoy. More like someone who was misunderstood at first and did the right thing at the end like Regulus Black. And I would’ve been hitting on the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw girls in between classes because…well, why the Hell not? They’re the smart ones.”
Unbroken Page 33