My entire body softens, and I know everything Becky does is because she loves me. “I know,” I say softly.
“So wanna know what happened after you took off and he chased you like a puppy who doesn’t want to be left on his own?”
I sideways look at Becky. “Really? A puppy?”
“Oh he was. Seriously! He jumped up and ran after you, I laughed and Laurie said, ‘He’s a goner.’ Anyway, he came back, sat down, and told me he’s deadly serious about you and there’s no way he’ll hurt you.”
“Lip service.” I shrug as we head to our lockers. “Could be saying that because he knows you’re serious and you’ll hurt him, so maybe he figures the best way to me is through you.”
Becky screws her nose up at me and a disgusted grunt rumbles from deep in her chest. “He ain’t passing through me,” she shrills in a high pitch voice. “Elijah is nice on the eyes and all, but no way, girlfriend. We don’t do sloppy seconds.”
I slap my hand to my forehead. “Geez, I didn’t mean it that way,” I huff as I open my locker.
“Sisters before misters,” she proudly announces with a huge smile. Becky takes out her American History book and slams her locker shut. “I’ll detach his balls if he hurts you.” Becky looks me in the eye with all seriousness, her silky blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail that frames the intensity of the look she’s giving me.
“I know,” I admit. Becky has my back no matter what, and I love her for it.
“Hey, I heard Jaydon’s parents are out of town over the weekend and he’s throwing a party. Want to go?” Becky asks, changing the mood.
I shrug and screw my face up. I’m really not the type who goes out to parties and gets drunk. It’s just not me. I prefer wearing my pointe shoes and dancing in the studio, practicing and pushing myself. But Becky, she’s all for going out and having fun. We’re so different it’s almost difficult to see why we’re best friends, but we work.
“Do you want to go or not?” Becky pushes.
We head toward our next class and I think about the party. “You know . . .” I start saying. Becky lets out a grumble. “What?” I ask as I turn to look at her.
“You’re going to give me some lame-ass excuse, aren’t you?” She shoulder-bumps me and sends me crashing into someone.
“Sorry,” I turn to say to the hard body I was shoved into.
“It’s okay,” replies the silky deep drawl. Instantly all the hairs on my arms stand and a flutter of happiness pulsates deep inside my stomach. “So, I heard you might be going to Jaydon’s party.” Elijah walks beside me and I turn to give a Becky a scowl only to find she’s taken off and is about five steps ahead of me. She turns and gives me a wink, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder making her look like a sexy model.
Elijah catches my look to Becky, and he follows my line of sight to see her smiling at us. “You know, she threatened my manhood,” he says as we slowly walk toward class.
“Yeah, nothing surprises me when it comes to Becky. She definitely would’ve threatened you with bodily harm if you try to screw me over.”
Elijah lets out a huge belly laugh, throwing his head back. His blond locks rustle against the base of his neck and his smiling mouth matches the laughter in his eyes. “Bodily harm is the least of what she threatened me with. But I’ve got to give the girl kudos. She’s got your back, and she’s got it for life. I think any guy who wants to date you will be scared off when they encounter Rebecca ‘the Enforcer’ Menzies.” Suddenly his happiness disappears and is replaced with an agitated snarl. “Not that any guy will ever come after you,” he mumbles in a low voice.
Instantly his remark has got my back up, and I find myself angry at him and his stupid, condescending words. “Really, Elijah?” I say in an angry tone. “I’m so revolting that no one will want me? Thanks for being a dick.” I speed up and walk away from him. I seem to do that often when it comes to Elijah. My heart thrums quickly in my chest and my hands ball into fists from the sheer anger traveling through my body.
“Hey, that’s not what I meant,” he calls after me as he jogs to catch up.
“Whatever.” I throw him a ‘go screw yourself’ look and refuse to pay him any more attention. “I’m late for class.”
Elijah grabs my arm and tugs me back to him, my body colliding with his taut, strong chest. “That’s not what I meant,” he says again. I look down at the floor because I’m so angry at him. “Hey.” He places his finger under my chin and tilts my head up so I can see his eyes.
Troubling my bottom lip between my teeth, I close my eyes and count to ten in my head. I shouldn’t be having this reaction toward Elijah. My body is shaking because I’m so upset and angry at him. He starts mumbling something and I shake my head at him without opening my eyes. “Don’t say anything,” I tell Elijah. “I can’t handle lies.”
“Look at me, Alice.” I open my eyes and stare into his gray ones and see they’re dark with emotion. His lips turn up in a smile, as his thumbs delicately run under my eyes. “I said that not because you’re disgusting, but because I’ll kill anyone who tries anything on you. I want you, all of you.” He leans toward me and touches his mouth gently to my cheek. “I couldn’t stand it if I saw another guy near you,” he whispers in my ear. His warm breath tickles the side of my neck as I turn to stare into his eyes.
Surprisingly, I don’t see lies; I see the truth. His words hold merit. At this very moment in time, I know he’d do anything for me. The second bell rings indicating we’re late to class. But my feet won’t move. Instead, I’m stuck right here, looking into his amazing gray eyes. My mind whirls and a symphony of emotions rages through my body.
Elation, that I can see he’s being truthful. Fear, because I know he means every word. I’m so confused. I shouldn’t want him to want me, but that’s exactly how I’m feeling.
“Ugh,” I sigh with frustration. Stepping away from Elijah, I leave the warmth of his hands and turn to go to class.
“Alice,” he calls after me. But I put my head down and high-tail it away from him. I don’t want to want him, and I don’t want him to want me either. He’ll muck up my life. He’s a man whore who’ll screw me over after he tires of me.
“Look, I get it. I’m the shiny new toy you’ve got a fascination with and you want to add another notch to your bedpost. Do yourself a favor, Elijah, and go after someone else. I’m not going to have sex with you.”
“Damn it, stop walking away.”
“I’m late, and so are you.” I look around the now-isolated halls and know I’m going to get written up in American History by Mr. Williams, who’s as old as can be, with a line of thin hair he tries to comb over his head.
“For God’s sake, stop running, Alice.” Elijah catches up to me the moment I get to Mr. William’s classroom. I put my hand on the protruding door handle, but Elijah slams his body into the door, stopping me from entering the class.
Frustrated, I throw Elijah a glare. “Move out of my way.”
“Not until we talk about why you’re acting crazy.”
My eyebrows shoot up and suddenly I’m angry at him, again. “Crazy? You can’t be serious.”
“You’re hot and cold with me, Alice. I don’t know what you want. I know what I want, but as far as you’re concerned, I have no idea.”
“Me? I’m easy. I want to dance without being screwed over by the biggest flirt at school. I don’t want to go out with you and have everyone whispering behind their hands and giving me looks because they think I’ve slept with you. And I don’t want to get my . . .” I stop myself before I finish the sentence. Before I get my heart broken because you’ve moved on with someone else.
“What don’t you want?” he challenges me.
I take a deep breath, and let my back find the cool wall behind me before finding the right words I need to tell him. “It doesn’t matter, let’s just leave this . . .” I twirl my finger between us, “ . . . whatever this is, and just be friends.”
Elij
ah’s shoulders slump as he takes a step backward. “Friends? Right, just friends.” He nods his head and rakes his hand through his longer hair. “I can do friends.”
“Good, because that’s all I can offer you.”
“Yep, right. Well I gotta go, I got . . . um . . . class. I’ll see you later, Alice.” He turns and walks away, but as soon as he’s a few feet away, he breaks into a light jog.
When I get into class, Mr. Williams stops talking and pointedly looks at the door. The room falls silent and everyone turns to look at me. “Sorry, Mr. Williams,” I say, embarrassed by my late entry.
He eyes me up and down, and flicks his head to my seat next to Becky. Quietly, I head over and slide in, dumping my books on the desk and keeping my head down. Becky’s smiling at me, but I ignore her.
Mr. Williams goes back to teaching, and Becky leans over and asks, “You and Elijah, you’re good?”
“We’re fine.” I elect to not say much to her, and instead, I’m caught up in the tornado of Elijah Turner and his feelings toward me. “Yeah, we’re good.”
Saturday rocks around and Becky’s dragged me to the meeting with Triple Threats.
Her dad and the band hashed out some rules, and they all agreed. I was there for moral support for Becky, but somehow I ended up taking notes and told them all I’d type them up and get Becky’s dad—Robert, a copy to look over and sign, and a copy to each of the band members.
By the time we walked out, Becky had a job with Triple Threats as their back-up guitarist when Jace couldn’t make it. She was stoked, and I was so happy for her. Now we’re back at my house getting ready for the party at Jaydon’s place.
“I brought some clothes for you to try on,” Becky says as she unzips her bag and empties the contents on my bed.
I lean over and pick up the first thing sitting on the top of the pile of dark clothes. Holding it up, I swing it off my finger. The tiny piece of material sways softly from side to side. “What on earth is this?” Screwing my face up I watch as the scrap of material continues to swing back and forth like a pendulum.
“That . . .” Becky snatches it off my finger, “is my top.” She rips her t-shirt off over her head, turns away from me, takes her bra off and wiggles into the tiniest top I’ve ever seen. It barely covers her boobs.
“That’s not a top,” I say looking down at her boobs. “You can see the girls.” I point. “And it looks like they’re cold.”
Becky chuckles and crosses her arms over her breasts. “They’re not cold.” She makes an effort to push her nipples in, and I laugh at her.
“If I can see them sticking out, then you’re cold. You can’t be serious, you can’t really be wearing that.” I sweep my hand over her bust region.
“No, don’t be stupid, Alley-cat. I’m also wearing this.” She digs around on the bed until she finds yet another scrap of clothing. She holds it up and I can’t help but shake my head.
“There’s no way my Mom will let you leave this house with that Band-Aid on. No way. I guarantee it, I can even bet you your guitar she won’t allow it.”
Becky grumbles and flops on the bed on top of her clothes. “But I want to wear it.”
“Doesn’t matter, she won’t let you.”
“Yes, she will,” Becky argues with me.
“Only one way to settle it. I’ll ask her.”
“Fine.” Becky throws her shoulders back and arrogantly stands from the bed. “Let’s go ask her. Just wait for me to change into what I’m wearing.” She shimmies out of the jeans she’s wearing and slips on the itsy-bitsy thing she calls a skirt teamed with black, incredibly high heels.
“Oh yeah, the hooker heels will definitely change her mind,” I say with a laugh, looking at the shoes. “Not to mention that miniscule black skirt you’re wearing.”
“Let’s see. I think I look nice.”
“’Nice’ isn’t the word I’d use to describe what you’re wearing.”
“Shut up.” Becky punches me in the arm and walks out of my room straight down the hallway, hollering for Mom.
“What is it, Becky?” Dad answers before Mom has a chance to. “Oh my God, what are you wearing?” he asks as we both head out to the family room. Dad looks away and shields his eyes, not looking at Becky at all.
“What is it, girls?” Mom comes in, wiping her hands on a tea-towel and abruptly stops at the entry. “You’re not wearing that, young lady. You can go take it off right now.”
Becky huffs an annoyed grumble, protesting at the words Mom has spoken. “You can’t tell me what to wear,” she says as she defiantly places her hand on her jutted hip.
Mom’s left eyebrow raises as she tilts her head to the side. Oh man, this is gonna get ugly.
“I beg your pardon?” Mom challenges Becky.
As quietly as I can, I step back from where I am, because this is going to be a showdown until someone is in tears. What’s supposed to be a good night out will start with crying.
“You’re not my mother, you can’t tell me what to wear,” Becky carelessly throws at my Mom.
Oh shit.
Mom purses her lips together, and walks over to Becky. She’s angry, but I can see how she’s carefully considering what she’s going to say so this situation doesn’t blow up worse than what it already is. Mom looks to Dad and he smiles at her, silently telling her, he’s got her back if this escalates.
“I may not be your mother, Becky, but I love you like you’re my own daughter. Alice knows there’s no way in hell I’d let her wear something like that, so that means, there’s no way in hell I’d let you either. It has nothing to do with if you look nice or not, but the fact of the matter is, you’re not yet twenty-one, and until you are I’ve made it my mission to guide you the best I can.” She hesitantly holds her arms out, steps forward and blankets Becky in a hug.
I see Becky’s shoulders drop, and she eventually hugs Mom too. “I’m sorry, I should’ve thought about what I was saying. I know you’re doing the best you can with me, and I really appreciate it.” She sighs and hugs Mom tighter. “I’ll change.”
Becky detaches from Mom and with slumped shoulders makes her way back to my room. I offer Mom a smile, then rush over to give her a kiss and a quick hug. “Thank you for saying that to her,” I whisper. Mom winks, then saunters back to the kitchen.
Dad’s sitting in his usual spot and looks relieved that the outcome wasn’t as painful as what he was expecting. “Crisis averted,” he mumbles.
I follow Becky into my room, and find her sitting on my bed, wistfully gazing at a blank spot on the floor. “You okay?” I ask as I sit beside her.
She turns to me, and buries her face into my shoulder. She holds onto me, and I embrace her. “I wish she was still alive,” Becky says through the heavy sobs.
“I know.” I smooth her thick blonde hair and kiss the top of her head.
“It hurts so much when I need her and she’s not here.” Her arms tighten even more around me.
“I know,” I say again, not really able to say more than those few words.
“I’m such a screw up,” she cries even harder now.
“You’re not a screw up, Becky. You’re my sister, and my best friend in the whole wide world. I wouldn’t let you be a screw up even if you tried your hardest. Mom loves you like I do. Trust her, okay?”
She sits back and wipes at the tears falling down her pretty face. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. I know wearing this makes me look like a slut, but I still put it on and pushed your Mom until she said what she said.”
I’m confused. I thought what Mom said was nice and not horrible. “I don’t get it,” I say watching Becky who’s now pacing in my room. “Mom didn’t say anything bad.”
“Don’t you see, Alley-cat? She said something beautiful, even after I was being horrible to her. She loves me like a Mom loves her daughter.”
I smile at her and stand to look over the clothes strewn on my bed. “Maybe, because that’s exactly how Mom sees you,
like her daughter. She cares about you and loves you.”
“I’m such an idiot. Maybe I did it because I wanted her to tell me those things.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself; you’ve turned out kinda normal.” I smile as I keep sifting through her clothes.
“Kinda?” she sassily asks. I’m half expecting a head wobble and click of her fingers. She’s pushing the sadness away, and I’m more than happy to help her do that.
“What do you think of this?” I grab her black skinny jeans and a sheer black blouse with an electric blue tank under it. “It’s cute, and you can still wear your hooker heels with it.”
Becky flops on the bed and half lies down, covering some of the clothes. “Yeah, that’s cute. I’ll wear that. Check this dress out, I brought it over for you.” She pulls out a black dress and holds it up.
“Yeah, I’m not really sure about that,” I say, suspiciously eyeing the offensive and incredibly short black dress. “I’ve never even seen you wearing that before.”
“’Cause I haven’t yet.” She rips the tag off with her teeth and throws the dress over to me. “Try it on; it’ll look hot on you. And besides, you gotta make Elijah jealous.” She smiles and winks at me.
“I’m not wearing anything to make him jealous. He’s an ass.” I hold the dress against me, and decide it’s way too short. “It’s too short,” I mumble and throw the dress on the bed.
“Try it on and stop whining like an old lady. It’s not too short. It looks too short but it’s not. Besides, you’ve got killer dancer legs, so show them off. Trust me, your mom will be good with it.”
“Ugh,” I moan while rolling my eyes. “I’ll try it on, but if it’s too short I’m not even going to bother asking Mom.”
“Hurry up, change.” Becky and I face in opposite directions as we undress and change into what the other’s picked out. “Okay I like this, nice combination,” Becky says while we both turn around together. “Oh, sexy as.” She winks at me as her eyes scan my body.
The dress isn’t as short as I first thought. It’s fitted and comes to mid-thigh. “Yeah, I like it,” I say running my hands down my stomach, smoothing the dress.
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