Amelia turns to look at me. She studies me for a moment. "You look like a young, sexy, tattooed, Tom Hardy."
"I don't know who that is but thanks, Sweet Cheeks. You look like a delicious-tasting, apple-pie-scented, sexy woman that just had an orgasm," I state confidently. She immediately turns red and looks back in her mirror.
"Can you really tell? Just by looking at me?" She asks, panic stricken. I chuckle.
"No. You might be glowing a little bit, but you just look like the same beautiful Amelia. My girlfriend." Saying it out loud is so foreign but fills me with a sense of pride. The caveman in me wants to call her mine and nobody else's. She's my Amelia now.
"And you're my for-real boyfriend," she states. We stare at each other for a moment feeling the weight of the words for the first time. It’s easily the first serious relationship for both of us. Well, I'm serious anyway. I hope she is. Damn. When did I fall this deep? I've never felt like this about anyone and I'm shocked I do right now. "I kind of hated you a few weeks ago," she admits out loud.
"So did I," I agree with her, amused. Her face looks hesitant and concerned. "What's wrong? What's that look for?" I don't know how it feels to be dumped, but I fear the feeling of my heart plummeting to my stomach right now might very well be it.
"What if that happens again?" She shyly asks, looking up at me with innocent eyes. My eyebrows scrunch together. I do not like the way she is thinking right now.
"It's not going to, so stop thinking like that. Besides, I can't hate you again before I even get the chance to dive in to your apple pie." I smile at her and she gives me a small smile in response, but I can see the worry in her eyes. I have to figure out a way to make that worry go away. I have no idea how, but I'll figure it out. I have no choice, because losing her is not an option.
"This fuckin' kid again?" I can hear Mr. Baldwin say from inside the kitchen. He had walked out from his office and stalked past us in the dining room. When he saw me he grunted and walked through the swinging door to the kitchen, where he’s now griping about me. I blow out air through my lips.
"Language, McCormick Baldwin! I thought you would have grown out of your foul mouth by now," Mrs. Baldwin complains.
"Well, this is going to go well," I mumble sarcastically.
Amelia reaches over and squeezes my hand on my lap. "I'm sorry. It'll get better with time, I promise," she tries to convince me.
Josh and his girlfriend walk in and sit down across from us just like last Sunday.
"Oh, wow. He's back?" He asks Amelia. "How much did you have to pay him this time?"
This punk is a bigger asshole than I was at fourteen. I hate that Amelia's only sibling is an egotistical brat. I'm so grateful to have a big sister that I would do anything for and who would do anything for me. She's the one who practically raised me. There's no way I can't be grateful for that.
"Shut up, Josh," Amelia scoffs and rolls her eyes.
Josh's eyes turn to me. "Fine, she's not going to tell me. Be straight with me, Bartlett. How much is she paying you? What are you getting out of this?"
I look at him, unamused and threatening. "She's my girlfriend, that's what I'm getting out of it."
He lets out a cackle that hits my nerves in the worst way." I get it. You know, Amelia, he's just using you for sex. But hey, I'm just glad you're finally getting some action. Just don't get pissy when he drops you for some hot chick."
I want to punch this kid in the face, but that's just it––he's a kid. Plus, I don't think Amelia would be too happy about it no matter how much he irritates her. I pause to see if Amelia defends herself because if she doesn't I sure as hell will.
"Josh, he's my boyfriend. I don't know why you care so much. Todd and I are adults. You're my baby brother. My relationship with him doesn't concern you. You should be ashamed of yourself––talking like that in front of Monica. By the way, have your balls even dropped yet?"
Josh's face blanches. He and I are both surprised at Amelia's capacity and courage to defend herself against him. I smile smugly and squeeze her hand. He narrows his eyes at her. Just when I think a war might go down, Mr. And Mrs. Baldwin come out of the kitchen carrying the various steaming dishes that make up dinner. Once they have the dishes set on the table, Mrs. Baldwin finally acknowledges me.
"Hi, there, Todd. How are you doing?" She asks with a stiff lip but at least she's trying.
"Hi, Mrs. Baldwin. Thanks for having me again. I'm doing well. I had a pretty great week," I reply as I play with Amelia's fingers under the table. "How are you?"
She smiles politely. "Oh, it's been an uneventful week, but I'm fine." She turns to Mr. Baldwin. "Will you lead us in saying Grace, dear?"
"Of course." We all join hands. Honestly, before last week, I didn't know people actually prayed before eating dinner still. And even then, I thought there was a chance they were messing with me. If I hadn't gone to Catholic school I'd probably think they were crazy. We pray, and then serve ourselves some spaghetti and meatballs.
"Monica, how has your summer been going? How are your parents?" Mrs. Baldwin asks Josh's girlfriend.
"Thank you for asking, Mrs. Baldwin," Monica says.
"Oh, call me Christine, I insist."
"Um, okay, Christine,” Monica starts, awkwardly. "Summer has been great. I can't believe it's already half over! My parents are good. They wanted me to tell you both hello." She smiles and I have no idea what this sweet girl is doing with an asshole like Josh.
"Oh, that's so sweet! Tell them we say hi, also."
"Bartlett? It's Bartlett, right?" Mr. Baldwin roughly asks.
"Yes, sir, that's right," I reply, nervous as all hell. I don't think a grown man has ever intimidated me as much as him. The nervousness has escalated since Amelia and I are for real now...not to mention that my mouth and hands have been all over and inside her the last few days.
"Isn't your dad the drunk that works in construction? Didn't he get in some accident? Shattered his leg? I remember it was all over the news a few years ago. Said he was three sheets when it happened."
His words a harsh blow to my gut. I honestly can’t tell if my face is red from embarrassment or white from feeling like I got the wind knocked out of me. I don't need my girlfriend's parents judging me even more because my dad's a piece of shit that hasn't had a single day sober since I was probably fourteen. He worked his construction job nearly drunk every day for years. He was always destined for a serious injury, or worse. He ended up shattering his leg. He was forced into retirement and now has a bum leg...and is drunk or drinking twenty-four seven.
"Dad!" Amelia scolds him with a hiss. He ignores her.
"Uh, yeah, he's retired now," I respond, keeping it short.
"Huh. You work at Roger Evans-Green's shop?" He asks even though he clearly knows the answer. I fixed Amelia's car, so I know he knows the answer. I just don't know what he's playing at. "Roger's a good guy. Says you're an ace," he states, and then shoves pasta in his mouth.
I have no idea what to say and nobody else saying anything. "Uh, yeah, Roger is a great boss. I love working there."
"That's nice, dear," Mrs. Baldwin replies.
I'm not sure if it's a good thing that Mr. Baldwin is asking around about me or not. He doesn't say anything else, and the rest of dinner is actually pretty quiet. Thank God. The words they do speak are mostly geared toward Josh and Monica. It blows me away how they seem so disinterested in Amelia in general, but care so much about her dating life. At least, that's the way it seems. I’m sick over how blatantly obvious it is that Josh is Mr. And Mrs. Baldwin's golden child. It makes me hurt for Amelia. She deserves to be loved as much as Josh. It also could just be in my head, and they're not showing as much interest because I'm here and they don't want to have anything to do with me.
God, I can't wait to get out of this house. Again.
30
–– Amelia ––
I would give anything to be eating this pie with Todd alone and not the rest of the
family. Other than a few digs at Todd during dinner everything has gone pretty okay. Not perfect, not even necessarily good, but okay. Now that we're actually dating it's suddenly very important to me that they learn to accept him.
I'm really falling for him and it's terrifying. His track record and his previous anti-dating beliefs have my heart worried and hesitant. I know he's into me, I just don't know how serious he is. Not to mention these insecurities crawling up to the surface. Insecurities I didn't even have until now. I've never given much thought to anyone else seeing me naked. Frankly, it's a scary thought. Even though Todd makes me feel good when we fool around, there's still a tiny nagging in my brain that he's comparing my body to all the others that he's seen. It makes me sick and sad. Really sad.
I must be staring into space or something because I feel Todd's hand rub up and down my thigh under the table. That's another thing––him touching me. I'm addicted to it. The way my body reacts to him is electric, and I’m so ready to give it all over to him. I trust his touch.
I was never waiting for "the one" to have sex with, or saving it for anyone. I just haven't ever been in a situation where sex was presented to me as an option. I know most girls wait to have sex until they find that one special someone. Truthfully, I wasn't even waiting for true love. I was just waiting for someone I felt ridiculously attracted to. I'm really hoping now that Todd is my someone.
Before I know it, I'm walking Todd to his motorcycle. I've been trapped in my thoughts since dinner. Todd's arms wrap around me and I realize how cold it is outside, especially with the breeze that's rolling through. He kisses my temple and I nuzzle into him.
"What's wrong, Sweet Cheeks? You've been absent since dinner. Is it Josh? Your parents?" He tries to guess, but Josh and my parents are the last of my worries.
"I'm just...feeling really insecure, I think," I admit.
"So it is Josh, then? Don't let him plant that garbage in your head, Amelia. It's going to drive you crazy." He looks down at me with soft eyes. "I'm not using you. I've never been using you. Actually, if anything, you've been using me." He chuckles. I grin because technically, he's right. "Please, don't believe any of that bullshit. You're my Amelia now. I don't want anyone else, okay?"
He leans down and kisses me. I fall into the kiss and my insecurities disappear. I wrap my arms around his neck as our tongues flirt back and forth. His kisses alone are enough to make my knees go out. He pulls away leaving me breathless.
"I have to pull a long work day tomorrow. Can I see you on Tuesday or Wednesday?" He asks, swinging his leg over his bike. I nod my head.
"Both," I reply.
He bites his lip then says, "Both it is then."
I walk back into the house to find my parents watching 60 Minutes. Sunday nights are the worst. Monday is like doomsday, so Sunday night is just spent in resentful denial. They look up at me in unison with "that" look on their face. The look like I did something wrong or like they want to talk to me. I'm assuming it's both. I don't know if I can handle another Todd talk. Not now knowing that what Todd and I have is becoming very real. My dad pauses the TV.
"Amelia, come on in here. Your mother and I want to have a word with you," my dad tells me. I sigh loudly and saunter to the loveseat. They pivot their positions on the larger sofa so they're facing me. "I don't know about that Bartlett kid, Amelia," my dad bluntly says.
"What your father means is that Todd doesn't come from the best family. I know we talked about this last week. I'm sure he seems like a nice boy to you, but boys that come from families like that..." my mom fades out her little speech like she expects me to know what she's saying.
"He's rotten," my dad says, interrupting the few seconds of dramatic pause that my mother created. "He's no good. Plain and simple. His dad's a drunk. I don't trust him. I don't like him for you at all."
"Pop-Pop drank a lot–" I start to defend Todd, but my dad interrupts.
"Hey, your grandfather was in the war, he fought for the right to drink whenever he wanted. Besides, we're not talking about Pop-Pop, we're talking about that kid."
I'm trying to understand my dad's logic while, no doubt, feeling bad that I brought up Pop-Pop's drinking. I also fight the urge to roll my eyes at the fact that my dad can't even bring himself to say Todd's name.
"Sorry," I genuinely apologize. My mom reaches over to pat my knee.
"Honey, summer is already half over, keep that in mind. This boy obviously doesn't want anything serious with you. You're about to go back to school over an hour away. I'm telling you, Amelia, he's bad news, he only wants one thing, and he will leave your heartbroken."
For the first time since these Todd arguments started happening I actually take in and absorb what she's saying. Summer is half over. I am going back to school. What's going to happen to us when I leave to go back to Portland? I focus downward and chew my bottom lip. My mom pats my knee again.
"It's best to just take a step back now, before you get hurt, dear. If you want company, go hang out at The Diner every now and then when Justin’s working. I know you were both on Student Council together." She sighs.
I continue to cast my eyes toward the carpet, the corners of my mouth turning further and further down. I can't even think about how she somehow knows about Justin and The Diner. Some nosey neighbor, I'm sure.
"The kid's probably an idiot anyway, Amelia," my dad says his last piece before standing up from the sofa and making his way out of the room.
"Okay, well, I'm glad we had this talk. I'm going to go iron your dad's work shirts." My mom follows shortly behind him, leaving me alone in the living room.
I collapse back into the old, worn out cushions. I curse myself for not thinking all of this through before agreeing to jump into a real relationship. I wonder where Todd is at with all of this. He seemed so sure about us, but what if he really is using me? Doubts creep into my thoughts and leave me tossing and turning all night in bed.
31
–– Todd ––
After busting my ass at work today, working well into the night, all I really want to do is drink a beer and eat some food. I roll my bike onto the gravel in front of my aged house. The ride home was gorgeous. The sun is now setting against the mountains behind me, illuminating the sky in shades of blue and orange with a hint of purple. I take a deep breath after taking my helmet off and scrubbing my hand through my dirty hair that probably looks several shades darker than it actually is.
I don't see the typical blue glow of the tv screen shining through the broken blinds, which is unusual. Normally when I get home, it's the same scene over and over again, day after day just like that one Bill Murray movie. Al is always sitting in the same spot of the sofa, his big beer gut slightly peeking out from the bottom of his stained white t-shirt or tank. He'll be three sheets and grumbling by the time I get home. The house will be a mess from him just leaving shit everywhere and knocking things over while he's drunk. He's less than graceful as it is, but add a fifth of whiskey...psh, forget it. It's never a surprise when some of the furniture is on its side because of his clumsy drunk ass. Everyday, it's the same thing. Over and over again.
But tonight, when I walk through the dirty white door--giving it an extra shove since it has a tendency to stick––all the lights are off and Al isn't in his usual spot on the sofa. He must be out at the bar, which means he's currently drinking the money he was supposed to use to pay the electric bill. I flick on the light switch next to the door and, sure enough, the power is out. After a string of curse words, I use my phone’s flashlight and rummage through the cabinets, to light candles in the kitchen and then in my room.
I sit on my bed, which is really just a mattress on the floor, resting my head against the wall. The flames from the candles flicker shadows on the walls. It's surprisingly soothing. The click and swoosh of the beer can opening is the best sound I've heard all day. I take a nice chug. Closing my eyes, all I see is Amelia, and I feel lucky as hell that she picked me. She doesn't recognize her
beauty and has no idea that she could have any guy in the world. I fish my phone out of my pocket and dial her number. A grin already forms on my lips.
"Hi, real-boyfriend," she greets me in a calm voice. Her voice alone is enough to ease my shoulders even more than the beer.
"Mmm. Hey, Sweet Cheeks. How was your day?" Never in a million years would I have thought that I'd be calling a chick just to ask how her day went. I grin at how quickly I've changed.
"It was boring, but I had time to use the dark room at work and I developed some nice photos. I'm hoping I can get more time in there later this week. How about you? You sound tired. Is everything okay?"
I think I've lost it, because just hearing her voice makes me remember her smell and feel her warmth.
"Yeah," I sigh. "Just some stupid bullshit with Al. He's a fuckin' drunk and I can't wait to get outta here." I pause for a moment wondering if I should say out loud what I've thought for years now. "But...I think if I leave, Al will end up dead. It would only be a matter of time. Shit, he might even do it himself and not prolong the inventible. There's no way he'll last," I admit my long held thoughts.
"Hmm...do you plan on staying there and taking care of him forever?" she genuinely asks.
"Fuck no." It comes out quicker than I expect. I take a deep breath. "But I can't just leave him either. Yeah, he did a shit job raising my sister and me, but at least he was here. He didn't abandon us like my poor excuse for a mom did. I don't know. I guess a part of me feels like I can't abandon him either. Even if I do hate him sometimes." I sit in silence trying to imagine my life not living in this house and without Al. My heart putters when I realize that I can't. I can't imagine it at all. I never really focused much on the future.
"I'm sorry, Todd. Feeling like you’re stuck is the worst, but try to remember that it's not forever. It doesn't have to be. You deserve to have a life, too. And it's not like you have to hurry and figure it all out right now."
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