by Layla Wilde
“Babe, you’re twenty-one. I think you’re old enough to spend a night away from home without your mom’s permission.” Victoria didn’t refute my comment. She bit her lip, looking anxious. “You’re such a goody-two-shoes, you know that?” I teased her again and smiled, taking off her helmet for her. Hurriedly, she scampered toward the house, pulling out her key and turning it in the lock slowly, afraid to make even the slightest noise.
I watched her from the driveway of my home, thinking about how sexy she had looked last night. I would never have thought that Victoria would turn out so beautiful, especially after witnessing her horrible experience with puberty. Acne, weight gain, frizzy hair. It was like she had gone through some sort of metamorphosis, turning into a goddess I couldn’t take my eyes off of.
Just as Victoria was unlocking the door, it flung open and her mother stood in front of her with a disapproving glance and a hand on her waist. “Where have you been, young lady?” Her voice was firm and curt.
“I… um…” Victoria stuttered, caught red-handed doing something she wasn’t supposed to. Her fingers tugged on the hem of her shirt in nervousness, trying to come up with a valid excuse that would keep her out of trouble.
Sighing, I put my helmet on my bike and crossed the lawn, approaching them. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Lancaster, she was with me. Surely that’s not a problem? I swear I took very good care of your daughter.” I smiled warmly at her.
“Oh, you spent the night with Hunter?” Mrs. Lancaster grinned at her daughter, nudging her slightly. “How exciting!” She giggled. Victoria’s cheeks turned a bright red color. “No, not a problem at all. It’s good for her to get out of the house sometimes. She’s always stuck in her room, playing that blasted violin. I tell her all about the natural benefits the sun has to offer, but she never listens to me.” She shook her head, a soft frown on her face. “But anyway, it’s so nice to see you again, Hunter. How have you been?”
Mrs. Lancaster had always liked me a little too much, but I had put up with it in order to stay friends with Victoria. I just had to play my cards right and the woman thought I was a saint. And after more than ten years of experience, I had grown used to it. “I’m good. Even better now that I heard Vic will be joining me at Ohio Stateside.” I walked up to her and wrapped my arm around her shoulder, hugging her tight. Mrs. Lancaster’s face lit up.
“You two always were like brother and sister. It’s nice to know you’ll be close again.” She flashed her daughter an almost envious look before addressing me with a friendly smile. “Why don’t you drop by for dinner? I can make my famous spaghetti squash that you both love!” She clapped her hands together in excitement. “It’ll be perfect.” She giggled. She grabbed her keys from the key ring near the door. “But that means I must go shopping. Have fun, you two!” With that, she was gone. Her car backed out of the driveway at a breakneck pace, making me flinch when she nearly crashed into an oncoming vehicle.
The moment her mother was out of sight, Victoria groaned, trudging into the house. “Look at what you did!” She turned on me. “I don’t know if I can stomach another one of her 'spaghetti' dinners.” She flopped onto the couch, staring at me.
“I know. I’m not looking forward to it myself.” I sat down next to her, resting my hand on her thigh before kissing her cheek. “But in a couple of weeks, we’ll be in Stateside together and there’ll be no one to bother us.”
“How do you know?” Victoria challenged. “What if I get some roommate from hell?”
“Then you move in with me. I have my own house this year. My dad bought it for me,” I said nonchalantly. Victoria’s jaw hit the floor.
“Your dad bought you a house? Just like that?” Her eyes were wide with surprise.
“Yeah?” I said, tilting my head, wondering what was so weird about that.
“That must’ve cost him a fortune,” she answered immediately.
“Four-hundred-thousand, I think,” I said, trying to remember the conversation I’d had with my father over the phone.
“That’s nearly half a million dollars!” Victoria exclaimed.
“Yeah.” I shrugged like it was no big deal. “To a billionaire like him, that’s really not much,” I explained. “He has made much more reckless purchases than this. He once bought two Ferraris, one for each of his best friends.”
“Two?” Victoria just shook her head, giving up on the attempt to fathom how much money my father really had. I forgot sometimes that our lives were so radically different. While I sat in the lap of luxury, she saved every dime and nickel she owned just so she could afford to go to college.
“Why don’t you live with me in Ohio? You can stay rent-free. I wouldn’t tell my dad, and you’ll save a bunch by not paying room and board,” I suggested, knowing it would help her out a lot. I squeezed her hand, hoping she would take me up on the offer, imagining a whole year with her. It would be amazing.
“Oh… no, I couldn’t do that.” Victoria bit the corner of her lip, looking uncertain.
“Aww, why not?” I asked, lifting her chin so she would look at me before I gently kissed her sweet lips. I closed my eyes, letting my mind wander with possibilities. I had no doubt in my mind that I loved this girl, but at the same time, I had no idea how a relationship with her would work, especially if she kept acting like a little bit of rule-breaking would kill her.
“Well, I already picked my room. I don’t think I can change that now,” she said quickly before getting up and disappearing into the kitchen.
I sighed, shaking my head. Trying to get Victoria to bend the rules was like pulling teeth. “Whatever you say. I’m going to head home, but I’ll be back for dinner later, alright?” I called out, letting my voice travel across the small house.
Victoria appeared instantly. “You don’t want to stay? I was just making some lemonade…” She gave me a puppy dog look.
“Fine.” I chuckled. I knew it would be impossible to deny those big brown eyes. “I’ll stay.” I walked up to her and ruffled her hair, making her squirm away from me. “But only because you’re so cute when you do that.”
She giggled in victory.
***
A few hours later, we woke with a start after hearing the sound of a car door slamming. We had fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted after staying up for most of the night. Victoria’s eyes grew huge in her skull. “It’s my mom. Quick! Get up! Look natural,” she said in a rushed whisper.
“Calm down,” I told her, my voice level. I grabbed the remote and pressed the button. We sat on the loveseat and pretended we had been watching TV all afternoon. Victoria quickly followed suit, making herself comfortable with a blanket. Moments later, Mrs. Lancaster bustled in, carrying bags of food from the local Whole Foods Market.
“Do you need any help?” I asked her.
“Yes, please,” she said, tilting her head towards her car where the trunk was open. My eyes grew large in disbelief. What had she bought? She was just making dinner for three, not the whole city, but by the sheer number of bags in her car, it looked like she was on a mission to feed the hungry. Sighing, I grabbed as many as I could, lugging them back into the house and dropping them on the kitchen floor.
“Oh, you’re such a doll,” she said, placing her hand on my arm in an almost flirtatious manner. I smiled at her and nodded before going outside for the rest of the groceries. By the time I was done, I had worked up a sweat, so I sat down in the kitchen in front of the fan. I watched as Victoria put everything away, constantly moving a step stool back and forth in order to reach the top shelves. I chuckled to myself. She was so short.
After a while, the kitchen started to smell like a mixing pot of different herbs. None of them complemented the others very well. I was glad to have the fan in my face or I would have suffocated. From within the pantry, I could see Victoria holding her shirt up to her nose, avoiding the fumes coming from her mother’s culinary concoctions.
“It’s almost done!” Mrs. Lancaster announced cheerily, a br
ight smile on her face. “Just need to add the meatballs.” Victoria looked at me, making a gagging gesture. We had both learned—the hard way—to never eat her so-called meatballs.
My phone rang, jarring me. I fished it out of my pocket, an apologetic expression on my face as I looked at Victoria and her mother. Glancing down at my phone, I saw my father’s name printed on the screen, and instantly a scowl overtook my features. I rolled my eyes and got up, stepping into the living room. “Hello?”
“I know you’re over there,” my father announced without a greeting. “I want you back here, this instant.” His voice was a low growl.
“Dad, I’m twenty-two. You can’t treat me like a kid anymore. I have the right to make my own decisions.”
“Like hell you do,” he said. My fingers tightened around the phone in anger. “I pay all your bills. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have your precious little bike or the college education that you’ll one day thank me for. Now, you’ll do as I say and come home for dinner. I want to have a word with you. In person!”
I gritted my teeth, wanting to scream. “Fine,” I huffed, my knuckles turning white. I couldn’t stand my father.
“Good. Now get out of that heathen house.”
Irritated, I hung up and saw Victoria standing in the doorway, a concerned expression on her face. “Your dad?”
“Yeah. He’s such an asshole.” I rolled my eyes again. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Will you tell your mother something came up?”
“Of course,” she replied somberly, knowing full well my father didn’t approve of her or our friendship. One could only imagine how he would react to our new relationship. It would be another secret I needed to keep from him.
Victoria
After dinner with my mom, I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn’t find a good moment to get rid of my food, so I was forced to actually eat it. The crunchiness of the spaghetti squash was disgusting, and by the end of the meal, I had to do everything I could to hold it down as my stomach did somersaults.
“Would you mind washing the dishes, honey? I bought some animal-friendly yarn at the store and want to start knitting us some hats for the winter. The Farmers’ Almanac said it will be a brutal one this year.”
“But it’s the beginning of July! You have more than enough time to do it later,” I protested as I stared at the heap of dishes in the sink. “Can I at least put some of them in the dishwasher?”
“Of course not. You know how much electricity and water that thing uses. It would be wasteful,” she reminded me, shaking her head and clicking her tongue. “I thought you had learned that by now, young lady. I raised you better than that.” She pursed her lips, her light-colored eyes scrutinizing me with a harsh glare. “Anyway, I’ll be up in my room. Please try not to disturb me.”
I didn’t respond; I simply turned on my heels and headed for the sink. Sometimes, I couldn’t stand my mother. Like, what was the point of a damn dishwasher if I could never use it? It sure as hell wasn’t for decoration. But my mom had always been like this, acting like she was better than everyone else, spending what little money she had on overpriced organic products. I tried not to think about it as a bitter taste formed in my mouth. I was struggling to pay my tuition while she had blown fifty dollars on yarn. She could have bought a nice winter hat for five dollars. I groaned, grabbed a pair of worn-out latex gloves from under the sink, and turned on the tap. I hated doing the dishes.
As I finished, I wiped the sweat from my brow. All that was left was the large pot caked with spaghetti. I lifted the pot to wash it when a heavy knock on the door echoed through the house. I looked at the clock. It was already nine.
I pulled the gloves off and tried to make myself look presentable before I opened the door. Mr. Baxley stood on the threshold, a stern look on his face. The man had always scared me. From his tall stature to his piercing blue eyes, everything about him was intimidating. I could only hope that Hunter would not grow up to be like his father.
“H-hello…” I stammered, holding the doorknob tightly. “Mr. Baxley… What a lovely surprise.” My voice wavered, and I tried to avoid eye contact.
“No need for pleasantries, Ms. Lancaster,” he said, his thin, pink lips pressing into a hard line, just like my mother’s so often did. “What I have to say to you is not much, but it’s crucial you listen very carefully.” His sharp nose pointed down at me, and his hands sat in his pockets. I gulped, feeling like I was about to be interrogated by this man.
“O-Okay,” I answered and nodded, focusing my attention on his gray pocket square. It had a polka dot pattern and looked to be very high quality.
“It has come to my attention that my son has spent quite a bit of time with you since I’ve been away. Is that correct?”
I felt the heat of his gaze on me, and my cheeks turned red. I wanted to lie and get myself out of this situation, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. “Um… yes… We spent most of yesterday in each other’s company,” I answered, picking my words carefully.
He shook his head, the corners of his lips pointing down in a deep frown. “You’ll never do. As you’re probably aware, we’re of different social classes, and I cannot allow my son—the heir to Motocross Industries—to become intimate with someone like yourself. He made the horrible mistake of befriending you at a young age, and no matter what I tell him, he always comes back to you. I cannot tolerate this behavior any longer.”
My eyes widened. I couldn’t believe this man had the audacity to come knocking on my door just to insult me. “I’m sorry, but that was extremely rude of you, sir,” I answered, puffing out my chest to make myself look confident even though I was scared of what he might say.
“If you’re waiting for an apology, you’re wasting your time,” he said curtly. “This conversation is already taking longer than I’d like. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I don’t want you near my son. You’re a bad influence. In fact, you and your nutcase mother should be kicked out of this neighborhood, but unfortunately, that’s out of my control—for now,” he added, staring menacingly at me. “But there’s something I can do, and that’s get a restraining order against you.”
“A restraining order?” I blurted, thinking this man had completely lost his mind. “What have I done to deserve a restraining order?” I asked him, rather angry at this point.
“You are tainting my son. Because of you, he thinks he can become a professional football player.” He scoffed, laughing with derision at his son’s dreams.
“He can!” I exclaimed. “He’s an amazing football player and you would know that if you ever went to one of his games,” I said heatedly.
“Please. Real men don’t earn their income by throwing a ball back and forth. If he was smart, he would come work with me at the firm,” the man said. “But because you planted all these silly ideas in his head, he thinks he can keep living in this fantasy world. I’m done with this foolishness.”
“You cannot blame this whole thing on me!” My cheeks were bright red, the blood boiling in my veins. “I had nothing to do with Hunter wanting to be a football player. It has always been his passion, and no matter what you do, you won’t be able to take that away from him. Just like you won’t be able to keep us apart.” I slammed the door in his face.
The sound echoed through the house, reverberating through my mind. I couldn’t believe my own brassiness. I smiled at the adrenaline rushing through my veins. Maybe Hunter was right. Maybe I did need to let loose a little and live my life.
With a grin on my face, I made my way up to my room. I locked the door and immediately grabbed my violin. The bow ran naturally across the strings, creating a sweet, melancholy sound that filled the room, creating a heavy atmosphere. I closed my eyes, trying to get into the song, but all I could think about was the interaction with Hunter’s dad. Only then did it hit me. What if he is serious? What if he really does get a restraining order against me if I continue to hang out with Hunter? The thought pierced my heart. My fin
gers tightened around the bow, making my arm stiff. The result was an ear-shattering sound that made every hair on my body stand on edge.
I put my instrument down slowly, wondering if he could really get a restraining order against me. He would have to take me to court. I tried to figure out what his accusations would be, but I remembered the amount of money he had. No doubt, he would be able to afford the best lawyers possible, completely trumping anything I could use to defend myself. I ground my teeth. I had to tell Hunter.
Quickly, I put my violin back in its case and stored it under my bed as usual. I got up and grabbed my phone from my desk. I dialed Hunter’s number and waited for him to answer, pacing the room. What if his dad had blocked my number from his phone? I really had no idea what his father was capable of, and that terrified me. Hunter was my best friend, and I couldn’t lose him. Especially not after last night.
“Come on. Pick up…” I muttered under my breath, willing him to answer his phone. I almost hung up to try again when I heard the telltale soft clicking noise followed by his deep, sexy voice.