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Pieces of Paisley

Page 3

by Leigh Ann Lunsford


  I fall asleep easily that night; it could be the hazel-eyed girl who kept me company, or the fact this is the first time in six weeks I have been in a real bed. Whichever reason I will take because tomorrow is a full day of volleyball on the beach, bikini watching, and seeing Paisley again. I know I shouldn’t be excited about that, but I admit to myself I am weak and about to get my ass in trouble because I don’t see myself staying away from her.

  Chapter 3

  Paisley

  Love has no age, no limit; and no death.

  John Galsworthy

  We barely made it home on time last night and once we were safely inside with all of thirty seconds to spare, my step-dad, Marcus, set the alarm and sent us off to bed with a wink. My mom came in and asked if we had fun. She isn’t your typical mom; yes, she cares, but she isn’t overbearing or monitoring every step I take. I have rules and boundaries, and as long as I respect them, then she lets me make my own decisions, for the most part. Sometimes she tries to prevent my mistakes, and that is our biggest battle. I need to make my own mistakes and learn from them. Ever since my dad left without a backwards glance to any of us, she clings to Marcus and waits on him hand and foot. That is their relationship, but I know I will never be so wrapped in someone that I lose myself.

  I saw Krista deal with her own hell when her four-year relationship ended. Yes, she is young and young love isn’t necessarily strong, but she and Tim were a match made in heaven, until her parents decided he wasn’t good enough for her. He partied, was two years older, did typical teenage guy crap, but he loved her. When she found herself pregnant last year, her mom forced her to get an abortion and that was almost the end of her. But the following week she found out she had to endure another procedure because she was actually pregnant with twins and they missed it, and that was the end of Krista and her belief in love or a happily ever after. Now she is a live in the moment kind of girl. No attachments, no commitments, no baggage. I am the exception to that rule, we are joined at the hip and sometimes I would like to see that spark in her eye, the proof she does still care. She basically lives with me, and we are trying to figure out a way to make it permanent. My family is okay with it, but her mom and step-dad like control. She may be eighteen, but when you are from a wealthy family they control the purse strings. She has dreams of college and needs their support.

  “Did you girls have fun?” pulls me out of my thoughts.

  “Yes,” Krista answers before I can. “We just hung out at the beach.” Sometimes I am amazed at how open she is with my mom. After her upbringing, you would think she would hate parental authority, but that may just make her crave it more. I am the opposite, I like to work things out on my own, and my mom doesn’t agree. We battle, and she doesn’t understand my need for independence.

  My mom turns to me, “You? Did you enjoy yourself?” I just shrug at her question, and she sighs. “Is it that difficult for you to give me a simple answer?”

  “I didn’t have a good time or bad time, it was okay.” I tell her, hoping that will satisfy her curiosity. Thank goodness for chatty Kathy over here.

  “I saw Chad again, and we finally got to meet his friend, Jake. Gorgeous. He had his eyes on Paisley until he realized she was jailbait.” I see the amusement in my mom’s eyes.

  “Did he now? Pais, spill it.” Holy hell, I want to go to sleep and not deal with this.

  “I don’t know . . . between his smart ass comments and then his near aneurysm when he found out I was sixteen and still in high school. That was hilarious.” Yes, my mom lets us cuss, as long as we don’t go overboard or drop the f bomb. Also, she isn’t strict about drinking, with the promise we never get behind the wheel after drinking or ride with someone who has been drinking. It has always been known we can call her and there will be no consequences for showing responsibility, and believe me, I have used that call many of times.

  “How old is this Jake?”

  “He is the same age as Chad . . . twenty.” Does Krista ever think about filtering her answers?

  My mom seems to think over this response. I see her clutch the doorframe and glance at Krista quickly. She licks her lips once then says, “Just be careful, both of you. I know you are eighteen, Krista, and Paisley you are wise beyond your years, but that is a big age difference.”

  Seriously? “Mom, I am not interested, and he definitely isn’t anymore. I don’t know why you are freaking out and warning me.”

  She studies me for a moment and before I get uncomfortable, “I think you may underestimate yourself, Pais.” With no further explanation she walks out of my room.

  “Damn it, Krista. Can you ever not have diarrhea of the mouth?”

  “What Pais, she is easy to talk to. She cares . . . be glad.”

  “I know, but sometimes it is too much. What time are we leaving tomorrow?”

  “About nine, and you are driving because I am drinking.”

  “Day drinking? This should be fun.” Then it dawns on me, tomorrow is June 11th and five years ago, Tim kissed her for the first time. As much as a thirteen and fifteen year old could have been boyfriend and girlfriend, that is what they became. Without saying another word, I lift the covers to my bed, and she climbs in and no words are spoken. I need to keep an extra eye on her tomorrow.

  The morning is beautiful and hot as hell already. We grab all of our beach gear from the garage, tell my parents bye, and head out to my Jeep. It was the one concession my mom made when I turned sixteen. She wanted no convertible and an SUV type vehicle, and I wanted a sports car and convertible. This way, I can have the top on or off, and it’s kind of an SUV. Putting my hair in a ponytail and my sunglasses on, I crank the ignition and ‘Girl In A Country Song’ by Maddie and Tae comes on . . . it is sort of a compromise between us. Krista hates country, and I hate the punk stuff she likes, so we will listen to this song making fun of country music and then mostly pop music. She leans over and turns it up and off we go.

  Traffic is light, and we fly down the highway, and before I realize it we are at the beach. I turn to her, “Where do you want to park?”

  “Oh, just park at Chad’s. We are meeting them; they are playing volleyball, and I am not passing up a chance to see him sweaty and half naked.” I shake my head at her but find myself pulling in behind Jake’s truck. We grab our stuff, and she goes towards the house.

  “I am going to head over to the beach, find me when you get there.” I don’t know what my unease at going into the house is, but it most definitely has nothing to do with seeing Jake again. She rolls her eyes at me, seeing right through me, and I go off to claim my spot on the sand.

  I settle down with my ear buds in and decide a nap is in order, because if Krista is drinking today, I need my wits about me. I am not sure how much time has passed, but I must have dozed because I hear a whole lot of loudness approaching. I turn and see Krista, Chad, Jake, Shayna, Toby, Kara, and a few others I don’t know. I pray silently they don’t interrupt my solitude and ruin my tranquil mood. Krista plops down on my chair and about sends both of us to the ground, and I can’t help but laugh at her. She is happy and laughing on today of all days.

  Kara plops a chair down right next to me and Shayna on the other side of her, the guys head off towards the volleyball nets, and I have to admit my gaze has gone to Jake’s chest, quite a few times. Lickable is the word that comes to mind. Krista takes my ear buds out of my ears and puts them in her bag, quietly telling me to step out of my comfort zone and socialize. I wink at her, and let her know I will follow her rules . . . today. Shayna goes off on a tangent about how hot Toby is, and I assume they worked out their differences. See, this is why I don’t get love and relationships. The fucking rollercoaster - up and down, careening around curves and holding on for dear life.

  I ask Kara when she is getting married. “Probably before he leaves next time, in November?”

  “Leave? Where is he going?”

  “They all go out of for deployment. They are on an aircraft carrier a
nd deploy often. In November it is only for three weeks, but next year is their six month deployment.” I really should be more knowledgeable about this.

  “That has to suck for you. Where did you meet?” I am curious about why this gorgeous, six foot, blonde-haired girl is with this creep. That is the only word I can use, he gives me a bad feeling.

  “I was in boarding school in Orlando, my friend was from Tampa. She went to high school with him. We met, I am from Canada, and I hate school and everything about it. I dropped out when he offered me a way out, and now I am stuck.” At seventeen how does she think she is stuck?

  “You can change that.” She gives me a bitter laugh.

  “My parents have disowned me, Rick controls me, but at least he wants me. That is more than I have ever had before.” Krista kicks me and shakes her head, telling me to drop it. I will drop it, but it makes me take stock on my life. I guess I will give my mom a break; she does care.

  The volleyball game is in full force with lots of trash talking. Krista makes her way over to sit closer and immediately draws Chad’s attention away from the game. When he misses an easy return, Jake hollers, “The game, Chad! Get your head in the fucking game.”

  Krista visibly flinches at the tone Jake used, and I get up and make my way over there, “Hey, Jake, it’s a game. Get your head around that.” I reach down and take Krista’s hand and pull her down to the water. This guy has serious anger issues, and I need a dip in the water to cool down. I turn around to see Jake just staring at me, and it takes all my self-control not to flip him off or stick my tongue out at him.

  I see Krista is visibly shaken, and even though his verbal assault wasn’t directed towards her, anytime she hears anger or fighting she thinks of her childhood. I playfully splash her and try to get her mind off of it.

  She laughs and splashes me back then says, “He is good to look at, but his issues are insane.”

  “Yep, he definitely has issues. Maybe doing hard time has left him hard up . . . should I go get him some lotion and a sock?”

  She throws her head back and laughs. “Hard time? Pais, sometimes you are too much.” I don’t care, crisis averted and my best friend is smiling again. We play in the water for a bit longer, her taunting me about not going in past my shins, but I remind her I have seen Jaws a few too many times . . . and no thank you.

  The sun soaking into my skin feels amazing, and the volleyball game is over so Krista is occupied with Chad, and surprisingly still sober. I feel a shadow over my legs and turn and see Jake standing over me.

  “Do you mind? You are blocking my sun.” I refuse to play nice with him when he keeps being a buffoon.

  “Last I checked, the sun was everyone’s, not just yours.”

  “Semantics. Did you need something?”

  “I just wanted to apologize for being an asshole earlier. I get kind of competitive.”

  “Kind of? You made it seem you were in the Olympics . . . and not a fun game. Seems like you have a lot of asshole moments.”

  “You’re right, Paisley. Working on it, and it is a long road. Can we start over?” I obviously don’t hide my shock well when he adds, “I can be a nice guy, give me a chance.”

  “I will think about it.” I wink at him. I wink. I don’t wink. I don’t flirt, and I don’t drool over guys like I do him. I am blaming the sun for short-circuiting my brain.

  “You coming back tonight?” I almost think he is hopeful that we may. I haven’t talked to Krista about our plans, but if I know her . . . I glance over and see her and Chad lip-locked.

  “I think you have your answer right there.” I nod towards them.

  “I will make sure it isn’t a mad house so you aren’t so uncomfortable.” He smiles down at me and walks off.

  Kara leans over, “I told you to remember that name.” I had forgotten we had an audience. “Rick has duty so he is spending the night on the ship, and I will help Jake curb the craziness tonight, it is time we all get to know each other.”

  I just roll my eyes at her. I don’t see us being buddy-buddy and I don’t see Jake and I being more than barely friendly to one another. I check my cell phone and see I have a few more hours to soak up the sun, so I recline back and forget the madness that has engulfed my life in the past twenty-four hours. I doze off to Kara chuckling beside me.

  Chapter 4

  Jake

  Stolen kisses are always sweetest.

  Leigh Hunt

  Seeing the disgust in her eyes as she put me in my place after yelling at Chad was enough to make me realize what an ass I was and apologize. Apologizing is something I don’t do often. I just knew at that moment I never wanted her to look at me with cold eyes again. When she walked away muttering under her breath, I wanted to drop to my knees and beg for her forgiveness. Instead, I composed myself, made peace with Chad, and let her have the day to cool off. It was torture watching her in the water playing and laughing with Krista. I was jealous of her best friend and the water in the ocean for being able to glide against her legs and capture her attention. I’m such a bitch. I blame it on that fucking scrap of material she wore like it was a bathing suit. Don’t her parents check what she is wearing before she leaves their house? I need to quit rethinking every decision I made today and get my ass in gear to get this house in somewhat habitable conditions and kick most of these deadbeats out. I don’t know what it is about them; just because we have living conditions outside of the ship they feel like they have free-reign to eat, drink, sleep, and shit here. I wish some would shower, and then I wouldn’t have to bust out the febreeze.

  I enlist the other rent paying guys in my quest. “Chad, get these fuckers out of here tonight. It isn’t party central here. Toby, pick up all the trash, and then help your girl clean the kitchen. Kara, can you help me straighten up the rest of the house?”

  They all stare at me with no words forming. Heads cocked and mouths slacked, Kara is the first to speak, “You heard the man. Let’s help make it look like actual humans live here.” Surprisingly, everyone goes a different way, and I hear Chad yelling at half the ship to get out. Kara leans in and quietly says, “I knew it the first time she opened her mouth. She had ‘Jake’ stamped all over her. Good thing you got home last night because Toby was moving in on her, in front of Shayna.”

  I am about to argue with her when the last part of her statement registers. ‘Toby moving in on her,’ and a white hot flash starts in my stomach and settles in my chest. I want to scream what an asshole Toby is and not good enough for her, but I shut down my initial response and grit my teeth, “Kara, she is sixteen. I admit she is beautiful, and makes me laugh, but not happening.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, and maybe you will believe it. In the meantime I am off to play Cinderella and clean the two bathrooms in this house that about five hundred guys use on a daily basis. If you don’t hear from me in thirty minutes, call in reinforcements.”

  I watch her walk off and move on to my tasks. My room is the only one that doesn’t need a major overhaul. We signed the lease on the house at the end of March and it goes through September. We deploy in November so we all have a month of ship life. While I was in the brig Chad promised me he would keep people out of my room, and he kept his word. I somehow ended up with the master bedroom, so I have my own bathroom, of course I pay the bigger share of the rent, but I have to have my privacy. Call it a burden of being an only child, and I don’t share well, which brings me back to the Toby and Paisley situation. I am hoping nothing comes of it, even though I can’t go after her, I don’t want the constant reminder of her with someone else, and that someone else being my roommate. Toby is a lot smaller than I am, and I think the Navy would frown upon murder. I don’t think I can serve my sentence in the brig . . . I think for sure that would entail a true prison term and doing hard time. Although, there is a federal prison in my hometown, so the only pro would be I would be close to home.

  I hope there is something to drink in the house besides alcohol because
I am not getting in trouble for contributing to the delinquency of a minor, but seeing as how we are all under age, I am wondering if that even would hold up? And hell, she drank last night so I guess that good intention can go out the window. I wonder if she is a funny drunk . . . she is hilarious sober, so I imagine she is. The house is about done being picked up, and Shayna is sweeping all the sand out, and it almost looks like grown-ups live here. I hear the front door open, and Paisley asking Krista if she ever knocks. I guess they are here. The cooler she is carrying tells me I don’t have to worry about contributing to a minor . . . she is doing fine all on her own.

  She sets it down by the chair and grabs her purse from Krista and goes outside. I see the flicker of a flame from her lighter, and I cringe because that means she is smoking. I make my way outside and catch her mid-inhale. “Still trying to pollute your lungs?” I try to make a joke out of it, but I don’t take it lightly. Her response is an eye roll. “Your parents know you smoke?”

  “Yes, my mother does. My step-dad probably does, too, but he won’t broach the subject because he quit not too long ago, and it is a forbidden subject. Is my mom happy about it? Nope, but it is the unspoken rule; don’t ask, and I won’t tell. As for you referring to everything you deem ‘unacceptable’ as a question to my parenting or home life, just stop. Sixteen is not the same as six.” The red in her cheeks I saw before she turned away from me, silently telling me my presence wasn’t wanted, was enough to let me know she was irritated with me. Story of my life where this girl is concerned.

  “I wasn’t questioning your parent’s actions, just asking because it is such a nasty habit. Call it concern or whatever you want.”

  “I call it ass-holism. You can’t help yourself, so I try to overlook it.”

  “Ass-holism?” I am trying to hold in my laughter.

 

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