by Amanda Heath
Norma Jean
Amanda Heath
Copyright 2013 © Amanda Heath
Smashwords Edition
All Rights Reserved.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by
any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. The people, incidents, and dialogue are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead or undead, is purely coincidental.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid.
Written by Amanda Heath
Cover by Robin Harper at Wicked by Design
Stock photo by Andreas Gradin
Table of Contents:
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
About the Author
Playlist for Norma Jean
Dedication
To every single girl who was told she wasn’t beautiful.
Because you are.
Acknowledgements
This book wouldn’t have been possible without the help and love of several people.
Jessica Johnson of bookend 2 bookend is the sweet to my sour. I don’t even know her in real life but her encouragement, support, and love for my books is truly amazing. Every conversation I have with her, I end up laughing my butt off. Which is something hard to find in my real life. She is a great friend and I hope we stay in contact for the long haul.
Dawn Martens. Enough said. She is the drunk to my disorderly. This woman completes me. I want to move to Canada and marry her. She took time out of her busy life to look over this book and help me edit. She didn’t ask for anything in return. It’s hard to find friends in this business that are truly who they appear to be. Dawn is certainly the realest and I can’t thank her enough for that.
Fiona Wilson gets a huge thank you as well! She beta read for me and helped point out several things that needed fixing. I can’t thank you enough!
My husband and daughter, who are there for me 100%. In a sea of people who want to see me fall, it’s nice to have them there supporting me.
Shanora Williams, who is this amazing author I’m honored to know. She has done some truly inspirational things that I know will take her great places. You keep writing amazing books girl and I’ll keep reading them!
CM Stunich, who writes amazing stories about things that happen in real life. She doesn’t sugar coat it and they aren’t full of bubbles and sunshine. CM you’re one of my biggest inspirations and one of my favorite authors! Write on girl!
Kris, Jeannette, Brie, Fiona, and Nicole. My I Heart Books girls. We have weird conversations but I wouldn’t trade them for the world. I hope to be a part of this amazing page for as long as it runs! You girls make it the best page ever! I love you girls! Booty Pop!
My mother, who might drive me nuts sometimes but I love unconditionally. I wouldn’t be anywhere without her. She complains about the other mothers in my books, so I made sure to have her spirit and personality throughout this book. I love you mom!
Bree and Jodie from Fab, Fun & Tantalizing Reads are so sweet and awesome. I’m truly honored to know these ladies. You couldn’t find anyone more sweet and down to earth then these two.
And last but certainly not least, every single one of you. I can’t thank y’all enough for buying this book and reading. Whether you enjoy it or not. You took a chance on me and I’m so honored that you did.
Chapter 1
Norma
“Norma Jean!” my mom screeches from the hallway outside my room. I have to admit I was asleep in the middle of the afternoon. I’m laying on my stomach with my hand next to my mouth which is now covered in drool. Yeah that’s not nasty at all.
“I know!” I screech back. I have to be at my babysitting job in like 30 minutes. Which leaves hardly any time to take a shower. Luckily I washed my hair last night when I got home.
My bedroom is fairly small considering we live in a single wide trailer. It has this ugly blue print wallpaper that I have covered up with pictures of reptiles and bands. There’s one window on the right wall which also happens to be the end of the trailer. My bed sits right underneath it and I sneak a peek outside to get a feel for the weather. The sun is starting to go down but the glass is still cold to the touch which means spring hasn’t made its appearance yet.
There is a small TV sitting at the end of my bed which is on and muted. Rydstorm my albino ball python likes to stay up all night watching TV. His vivarium sits across from the bed and his white and yellow body is currently shoved into his hidey hole. It’s only a small piece that looks like a rock on the outside.
I climb out of bed and take the few steps till I’m right in front of it. He sticks his head out a little and flicks his forked tongue out at me. “Yeah, I love you too buddy.” I kiss the glass before heading to the dresser next to my door, pulling out a Sliverstein shirt and black jeans.
My bathroom is tiny with the small hideous wallpaper, in fact it’s all over the damn house. I shimmy out of my pjs before turning on the water for my shower. I pull my long black hair up on top of my head and check the water. After deciding that it isn’t too cold I climb in.
After I’m done with that I towel off and throw on my clothes before stepping in front of the mirror. I don’t even look at my face while putting on my makeup. I go heavy on the eyeliner as usual and then I brush my teeth. Yeah I realize that I do things weird, but that’s me. I’m a total freak. Honestly I wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Have you seen my car keys?” I ask my mom who is sitting at her computer desk in the living room probably feeding her addiction to Facebook.
“Did you check your car?” she replies without looking up. Her fingers flow over the keyboard like silk over skin.
I laugh to myself because I honestly didn’t think of looking in my car. “No. I can’t ever remember that if I left them in there.”
Her chestnut colored hair falls over her shoulder when she turns to look at me. I used to have the same color hair. It was long and flowing just like hers, until my appearance became my shield. Her violet colored eyes I still have though. That’s why Grammy named her Elizabeth Taylor. Well at least she got to be called Elizabeth Chambers all her life. Elizabeth is a common enough name. Norma Jean on the other hand is nowhere near common. The only other person I know who was named NJ was Marilyn Monroe which, just so happens, I’m named after.
I do believe it’s an honor to be named after one of the most beautiful women ever. It’s just I could never fill her shoes. I had terrible acne for most of my teens that left serious scars all over my face. Hence the reason I don’t look at my face. Ever. I hide it the best way I know how. My hair is dyed black with extensions of every color of the rainbow hanging about. I style it with bangs that reach my eyes. I like to pull it to the front so people generally look at
the colors. I wear a hoop through the piercing in my nose and I also have a Marilyn Monroe. Which is the term for a piercing people get where Marilyn had a beauty mark. I, of course have to have corrective lenses which are huge and an ugly puke color. To top it all off is my ass kicker attitude. Believe me, I know how that sounds but the people I know are assholes. You have to be mean and snobbish to get people to leave you alone around here.
“You’d lose those things if they were in your hands. I don’t know how you could find anything else in this world but your keys.” she shakes her head at me and I smile. I love my mom. She didn’t bat an eyelash when I walked in looking like this a couple of years ago. While some might think that is bad parenting, she just wants me to be me. I had asked her once why she didn’t freak out she simply said “You are you, baby. I love you if you were made of mud. You can be whatever you want to be. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently.”
“I can’t ever find my phone either. Not that I really use the thing.” I shrug my shoulders. I really do have an issue with losing my keys and my phone. Everything else I can find in 5 seconds flat. It’s a gift really.
I move over to the old grey couch in front of the TV to slip on my lime green converses. Moms best friend and co-worker Stacy has a 1 year old granddaughter that I watch on the weekends. It was really hard to take the job seeing as her son is the reason I’m a social outcast. He bullied me for years and now I have no self-esteem or social skills, well in the boy department anyway.
Chance mother fucking Duncan is the most beautiful boy ever. Rich dark auburn hair that hangs down to his chin. Matching eyebrows that arch over the most amazing hazel eyes ever. Caramel hues mixed in with green swirls. If I didn’t feel such uncontrollable rage towards the guy I could fall into those eyes. Full masculine lips and sharp nose and cheeks make up the perfect face. Plus he is the all-state basketball champion or whatever. I have no clue about sports, I just know he plays the one with the bouncing orange ball.
I, of course being a girl with impressible emotions had the hugest crush on him. It was sad really the first day he tormented me. Not only was I extremely upset about my face, I was upset this guy I had allowed myself to feel for, was someone I shouldn’t have felt for.
Chance’s sister is a complete and total whore. It might sound harsh but she abandoned Macy, her daughter, who is the most beautiful girl in the world. She doesn’t even know who the father is. She had wanted an abortion but Stacy told her she would take the baby and raise it. Chance in an act of chivalry told her he would help. I guess he isn’t a complete bastard….well no, he is.
“Be good tonight!” I tell my mother as I head out the front door. I walk down the gravel driveway to my black two door cobalt. Which is parked next to mom’s corolla. We could never afford the payments on both cars so my dad decided to buy me a car. Thanks old man. I don’t see him much and he never really helped with anything to begin with. My parents were 16 when I was born. Dad was immature and honestly didn’t know how to handle me. Now he is a New York Times best-seller, which isn’t an excuse in my book. He is always busy with signings or writing. Whatever like I need him in my life or anything.
I spot my keys in the ignition and climb in. I pull out my pack of Camel Menthols and light one up. Turning the keys I crack my window and turn on the CD player. Spill Canvas flows out of the speakers and I sing along to the lyrics. “Yeah he’s a looker but I really think it’s guts that matter most. I displayed them for you strung out about from coast to coast…”
It’s about a 10 minute drive to the Duncan household. Stacy and Rick have been divorced for a couple of years now. He lives on the other side of town with his new half his age wife. I personally blame him for the ways of his children. Not only is the man a complete asshole he flaunted his affairs around town for everyone to see. I did in fact see, so I can almost understand why Chance treated me the way he did, but that’s still not an excuse. He has no humanity in him anywhere. You just don’t say the things he has said to me and be a decent person.
I flick my cigarette out the window before pulling into the driveway of the two story brick house. I grab my pomegranate body spray out of the passenger seat and let the mist flow around my body before getting my messenger bag out of the backseat.
“Hello?” I call as I walk into the entry. Before me is a long hallway that has open doorways to the living room, dining room and kitchen. At the end is the stairs for the upstairs and a door for the laundry room. I walk to the living room entry way and peek inside. The cream carpet is covered with toys for Macy but there is no sign of anyone.
“In the kitchen!” Stacy yells. I laugh when I hear a crash. Must be peas tonight.
I walk into the modern kitchen and set my bag down on the white granite counter. “What’s up Macy?” I say to the little blonde haired blue eyed toddler. She gives me a big goofy grin and claps her hands.
“Thank god you are here! You are the only one who can get her to eat peas.” Stacy looks frantic, as if Macy doesn’t eat right now she might die.
She is sitting in a chair in front of Macy’s high chair and I walk over to take the baby food and spoon. “Go get out of here, I got this.” I wink and play airplane with the spoon to get Macy to eat it.
Stacy quickly grabs her purse off the counter and heads down the hall before turning back around. She rushes over to us and kisses us both on the cheek. “Love you pretty ladies! See you in the morning.” And she is out the door.
After I get Macy fed and bathed we settle in the living room to play. She is just learning to walk so it’s fun to lead her around with my finger. This baby laughs at everything. Funny faces, tickles, and she really loves when I make fun of Chance. I’m sure she has no idea what the hell I’m saying or doing but giggles none the less.
Around nine I settle her in bed with her sippy cup and pink teddy bear Chance got her when she was born. She will not go to sleep without it at night. I kiss her chubby baby cheek “Love you Mace, sleep good.” I smile to myself before I walk out of her room and go down the stairs.
I grab my bag out of the kitchen before heading into the living room and spreading my stuff out to get this week’s homework done. After a few hours I get really tired and lay back on the couch and fall asleep.
Chance
I’m trying to get into my house, but there are three front doors and I can’t decide which door to stick my key in. I finally try the middle one and the key slips into the lock. I open the door and stumble inside where I nearly knock over the end table mom set in the hallway.
“Fuck.” I say as I rub my hand down my face. I didn’t realize I would be coming home tonight or I wouldn’t have gotten this drunk. I usually stay with my best friend Creed on the weekends but he has a steady girlfriend now and I would rather not listen to them having sex.
Passing the living room I do a double take when I see a girl lying on the couch. My eyes must be playing tricks on me because there is no way that freak is in my living room. I take a few unsteady steps towards her and get a better look. Her long black hair is laid out around her head with those crazy ass colors and I can’t help but suck in a breath. She looks like the angel of death, a very beautiful angel of death.
Her ugly ass glasses are sitting on the coffee table next to a few text books, so I’m assuming she was doing homework before she fell asleep. I guess this is the reason mom didn’t want me around at all on the weekends. I remember the day my mom found out what I had been doing to Norma. You ain’t ever seen a tiny ass women hold a 15 year old boy down and spank his ass like she did. I couldn’t sit for a week.
I have to assume it’s the alcohol that makes her look so damn intriguing tonight. Or maybe it’s the fact I can actually see her face and she looks so fucking sweet asleep like she is. Her skin isn’t as scarred as I would have thought, considering what she looked like before. There are only a few places and they aren’t even noticeable until you get right up to her face like I am.
Wait? What? How the hell d
id I end up this close to her? I don’t even remember moving. Then it doesn’t matter because I’m amazed at how gorgeous she is sleeping like this. I’m used to angry words and glares from her. The peaceful way she is breathing makes me feel things I don’t want to feel. We would never work together. She hates me and I hate myself for what I did to her.
I know you’re like, he called her a freak…well that’s how she comes off. With the crazy hair and baggy clothes. The obsession with reptiles and spiders. She screams freak even though I know she isn’t one.
I find myself wanting to taste her lips like I have never wanted to taste anyone else. Her heart shaped face and peach skin call to me. Her little button nose giving her a perky sweet quality, which I know she doesn’t possess. I want to run my fingers through her hair to see if it is as soft as it looks. I want things…its really freaking out my drunken brain.
I never want things. I blame my father. When I was 12 I found him fucking my new step-mom in my parent’s bed. I can still see him completely naked thrusting into her. Her fake breasts bouncing up and down. I can still hear him groaning and her moaning. I felt so sick I went and threw up my lunch. Which makes it even worse considering he knew my sister and I were home. He didn’t even care to hide his affair from anyone, least of all his children. I’m still fucked up over it. I’m just happy my mother didn’t see it. I wouldn’t wish the pain of it on anyone.
“What the fuck are you doing?” comes her throaty voice. She talks like a lounge singer who smokes too many cigarettes. Before I can catch myself I lean into her neck and inhale her pomegranate smell. Sweet and tangy. If I wasn’t so drunk I wouldn’t even be this close to her, but then I wouldn’t notice the way her small breasts rise up and down with her labored breath. I’m doing that to her. I get a feeling of satisfaction. That’s when I kiss her neck lightly.
“I have no idea.” I tell her softly and truthfully. I have no idea what I am doing. She was here and looking so damn beautiful I couldn’t stop myself.