1983: Cruel Summer
Love in the '80s: A New Adult Mix
Amber Lynn Natusch
Vol. 4
Contents
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
About the Author
Sneak Peeks
1980: You Shook Me All Night Long
1981: Jessie’s Girl
1982: Maneater
1984: Against All Odds
1983: Cruel Summer
Copyright © 2016 by Amber Lynn Natusch
All rights reserved.
Including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form without written permission except for the use of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by Regina Wamba of Mae I Design and Photography
Edited by Crystal Bryant of Plot Ninja
Formatted by Jeff Senter of Indie Formatting Services
Published 2016 by WaWa Productions
I hate this fucking town…
In fact, I’d always hated it. From the moment I set foot in that podunk, redneck place, I dreamt of leaving. I’d wanted to grow up in New York City, where my dad had been born and raised—where his work and family ties had been strong—but when I was eight my mother protested until he gave in and moved us to her hometown in Johnsonville, West Virginia. From that point on, only one thing made my existence there palatable—or one person, to be exact.
But even he failed me.
After high school, I escaped that town, going out of state to attend college. I crossed the Mason-Dixon Line into Ohio, seeking refuge there. I left Johnsonville with only three ties still binding it to me: my mother, father, and my boyfriend, Jason. He’d saved me my senior year and helped me scrape myself together before graduation. From that point on, he’d been my lifeline.
But he too would betray me eventually.
In retrospect, I don’t know why I’d ever thought it would be a good idea to come home that summer. Actually, I knew damn well why I’d decided to return: Jason. My plan was to have a romantic summer together while my parents were in Europe. It was all supposed to be so perfect.
But there was no perfection in my life, and seeing him at the party that fateful night reminded me of that fact.
I was supposed to have gone to Paris right after my classes finished, but at the last minute, I decided to head back to Johnsonville to surprise Jason instead. We’d managed to stay together through two years of college, even though our schools were far apart, but I didn’t get to see him that often. I loved the idea of getting to spend two amazing months with him—parentless months at that.
What I got, however, was anything but.
I’d walked into that party the night I’d arrived back in town, a bright smile on my face as I waded through the drunken masses, searching for Jason. In retrospect, I should have recognized the looks on the few sober faces that were in attendance. At first I’d thought they were just shocked to see me. I hadn’t really been home in years. But, in reality, they were just wincing at what was inevitably about to go down.
When I opened that bedroom door, I expected to see a ring of people smoking pot or drinking or just hanging out. What I hadn’t expected to see was my boyfriend’s naked ass in the air with a pair of long, lean legs wrapped around it. I must have stood there for at least a minute before they realized they weren’t alone. The look on his face when he turned to see who had interrupted him was more than I could bear. There was little if any guilt to be found in his stare.
Annoyance was all I found.
With that gut punch, I bolted from the room and tore out of the party. I just wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. I didn’t think much about the scene I had made. At the time, I didn’t really care. But the next morning I woke up with a headache from crying and red-rimmed eyes to complement it, and I knew that my life was about to be hell. Single, scorned, and trapped in Gossipville, USA was hardly how I’d expected to spend my summer. It seemed a cruel twist of fate, indeed.
But there was no escaping it.
My parents were the last ties I had to that town. I had no friends there. Nobody to lean on. All I had was an empty mansion on a hill and the knowledge that things were about to get far worse for me long before they got better. Everyone in town would be talking about what happened between Jason and me by the morning. Most would be reveling in the fact that Izzy Lancaster had been publicly humiliated. My family was rich and prominent, my father a renowned defense attorney in the state. To our faces, everyone was kind and friendly, but behind our backs they wished bad things would happen to us—knock us down a peg or two.
Man, would they love to know that the princess had fallen.
I really do hate this fucking town.
My father might have been rich, but he didn’t believe in giving me everything, and when I’d told him at the last minute that I wasn’t coming with them to Europe, he was very clear that he wouldn’t be funding my summer off. In short, I needed a job. Since I wasn’t going to find one wallowing in my pajamas and eating ice cream for breakfast, I forced myself to get showered and dressed, and left the house.
The fact that my period started that morning only cemented my need to leave. There wasn’t a feminine product to be found in any of the five bathrooms in my house.
I hopped in my tiny silver sports car—the one Daddy had given me for graduation—and made my way to the only store in town that would have what I needed. The last thing I wanted to do was run into anyone I knew there, but that likelihood was inevitable, so I readied myself for the fallout of the party. Parking my car at the knock-off box store in town, I took a deep breath then made my way inside.
“It’s like this place never changes,” I mumbled to myself as I entered the Big Eddie’s Surplus. It had been there for the better part of my childhood. And it still smelled like the ‘70s.
I hightailed it to the health and beauty section which comprised one half aisle with everything from make-up to face care to feminine products. I grabbed a box of super absorbency tampons from the shelf and headed toward the checkout line. I didn’t want to be there any longer than I had to. That store was gossip central. I had little doubt that my breakup was headline news in town. I didn’t want to be interrogated about it while I paid for my tampons.
Thankfully, I saw an unfamiliar face at the register, and I sighed with relief. No looks of false pity accompanied with empty well wishes for me. At least that was what I’d thought until Wendy Bryant rounded the corner.
In fairness, we’d been friends in school. She was three years older than me, which is an eternity in high school years, but her brother and I had been best friends, making us friends by default. Since I’d graduated, I’d only seen her a couple of times.
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t about to grill me.
“Izzy!” She ran toward me with open arms and scooped me up into a hug. “What are you doing here? I heard your parents were in Europe all summer. I thought you’d be with them.”
“I was supposed to go. I changed my mind at the last minute.”
“I’ll bet your dad was thrilled about that.”
Here we go…
“Yeah, well, you know Dad.”
She forced a tight smile, understanding all too well just how well my dad had likely taken the news. Wendy had worked at his law firm while in high school. She knew what his temper was like.
“So, what are your plans while you’re here then? Are you staying for the whole summer?”
“Looks that way….”
She picked up on my unease, knowing damn well why I had it in the first place. To her credit, she avoided that subject altogether.
“Are you working?”
“I hadn’t really thought that through, to be honest.”
A mischievous smile spread across her face. I knew that look. That look was trouble.
“I need a lifeguard at the pool. Cindy Homer broke her leg this past weekend. She got drunk and tried to do a basket toss. It ended badly.”
“Yeah it did…”
“So that leaves me a body short at the pool. You still have your certification?”
“Yep. I lifeguard at the pool in the rec center at college.”
“Perfect. You’re hired.”
“Wendy, I—”
“Come by the pool tomorrow before we open so I can get you your gear and a key.”
“But Wendy—”
“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” she continued, unfazed by my interruptions. She tapped her finger on her chin for effect while she looked to the sky for the answer that eluded her. “Oh right, there’s some construction going on in the change rooms, so you’ll have to park across the street in the vacant lot.”
I looked at her strangely, wondering why that was a detail I desperately needed to know. That mischievous smile crossed her face again and my eyes narrowed in response.
“I should let you go,” she said, indicating the box of tampons in my hand. “Don’t want you to spring a leak in Gossipville. You’d never live that one down.”
That was the least of my worries. Apparently Wendy was the only one in town who didn’t know about me and Jason yet.
She started to walk toward the back of the store, looking over her shoulder at me to flash me one final grin.
“See you tomorrow!”
“Yeah. Catch ya later,” I replied with a wave.
I paid for my tampons and left Big Eddie’s with them, a new job, and the sneaking suspicion that Wendy Bryant was up to no good.
I rolled up on the city pool’s entrance to find a herd of construction vehicles parked in it, just as Wendy had promised. Turning right into the lot across the street, I parked my car and hopped out. For a brief moment, I smiled at the sight of the pool building. I’d lifeguarded there after my senior year, and it was an amazing time.
Then I thought of Jason working with me that summer and my smile instantly fell—along with my heart.
With a deep breath, I jogged across the busy street and climbed up the driveway. The sound of builders hard at work echoed through the concrete corridor that separated the parking lot from the pool. Jackhammers and nail guns fired relentlessly. It made me thankful that I hadn’t been hungover.
When I walked up to the concession window, Wendy looked up from her newspaper to greet me, that same wicked smile on her face.
“Morning,” she said, her tone full of sparkle and bells—and, as it later turned out, treachery.
“Morning.”
“Here’s your suit and your t-shirt. Go try them on. But not in the women’s change room. They’re tearing up the floor in there at the moment.”
“That would explain the jackhammer…”
“Come back and let me know how they fit.”
Her eyes twinkled with delight, which made my anxiety rise.
“What’s got you so happy this morning?’ I asked, my tone wary.
“Oh, I don’t know. I just think it’s going to be a great day, that’s all.”
“Yeah. Right.”
I walked through the corridor and around the corner to the change rooms. Taking Wendy’s advice, I avoided the one full of construction.
I poked my head into the men’s room and called out to make sure nobody was in there first. It was way too early to see a bunch of old guy dicks hanging out. When nobody replied, I sneaked in and locked myself in the handicapped stall. I quickly slipped out of my shorts and tank top, and threw on the red one-piece suit Wendy had given me. It fit like a glove. I held the t-shirt up against me. It was a size too big, but that was fine. I planned to knot it up on the side anyway.
Throwing my clothes into the bag I’d brought with me, I opened the stall, peeking around the corner to make sure nobody had come in while I was changing. To my delight, I was still alone. I quickly walked out of the men’s room, zipping up my bag as I rounded the corner.
Then I slammed right into something tall and hard and regrettable.
“Sorry!” I blurted out as I caught myself against the brick wall. “I didn’t—”
“Izzy Lancaster,” a familiar voice said, interrupting me. My skin flushed and crawled simultaneously at the sound of it. I looked up to confirm my suspicion: Braxton Bryant was staring down at me smiling.
The same fucking smile that his sister had worn when she hired me.
“I’m going to kill her,” I muttered under my breath.
“What’s that?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “You’re excited to see me?”
“Oh, I’m something, that’s for sure.” I pushed off the wall and started off toward the pool house and the curly-haired manager inside it who was about to be strangled to death.
“Wait!” He grabbed my arm gently to stop me. “You can’t even say hi?”
I stifled a scoff.
“Hi.” I clipped the word out like it pained me. Then I pulled away and started to walk away.
“Really, Izzy? That’s it?”
“Yep.”
“Where are you going in such a hurry?”
“To kill your sister.”
“Izzy,” he sighed, catching up with me. I wheeled on him, shoving my finger up in his face.
“Do not ‘Izzy’ me, Braxton Bryant! You don’t get to, understand? Now, if you’d be so kind as to leave me alone so I can pull the knife from my back and stab your sister with it, I’d be grateful. Thanks.”
“C’mon,” he started in that breezy, casual tone of his that made you want to forget that you were ever mad. But I wasn’t about to forget that I was mad—at him or his big sister. He and I had way too much history for that. At least I thought we did. “You know why she did it…”
“Go back to work, Braxton,” I replied, without looking back. “And stay out of this.”
I rounded the corner into the concession area of the pool house to find Wendy looked pleased as punch. I, however, looked like I was about to commit a homicide.
“What?” she asked, shrugging her shoulders while making an innocent face. “I didn’t know he was going to be here today.”
“Bullshit, Wendy. You set me up. I should have known that’s why you wanted me to come. Hell, you gave me all the clues I needed to figure this out before I got here—”
“But you didn’t,” she interrupted with a smile.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” Her confidence in that statement was unnerving—or delusional.
“No. I really do.” I stepped closer to her. “I’ll give you a five second head start before I come after you.”
“Come on, Izzy, it’s not that bad.”
“Not that bad?” I shouted before lowering my voice. Mysteriously enough, I didn’t hear any construction equipment running while we argued. Fucking nosey bastards. “Not that bad? Really? You know that he and I aren’t exactly friends anymore, Wendy, and there’s a good reason for that.”
“There’s a reason, all right, but not a good one.”
“Are you fucking high?”
“Izzy,” she started with a sigh. “You two were best friends since the moment you moved here. You did everything tog
ether. He was crazy about you. Still is.”
“Yes. Was crazy. Past tense,” I argued. “And then he threw me aside like I was trash and never spoke to me again. I owe him nothing, Wendy. Nothing.”
“Izzy, you don’t know the full story,” she said, walking toward me. Brave girl. My fists clenched at my side as she approached.
“I know that he dropped me like a bad habit and then acted like I didn’t exist.”
“And that was three years ago, Iz. Things have changed.”
“Not for me,” I whispered, turning away from her steel gaze. Unfortunately for me, mine fell on the little brother in question, hovering in the doorway. There was regret in his eyes, and even I, in all my anger, couldn’t ignore it. “I need to get out of here,” I said, scooping up my bag and heading for the door on the opposite side of the room. The one that Braxton wasn’t looming in.
“But I really do need you to work here!” Wendy cried. “Can you at least stay today or until I can find someone else to fill your spot? If I don’t have enough guards on duty, we can’t open. It’s as simple as that.”
I wanted to flip her off and keep walking, knowing that her situation wasn’t really my problem. But then I thought about the kids, and stopped. The town we lived in wasn’t well off. Not by a long shot. The pool was cheap daycare for working families and single mothers, and those kids needed us to be open. The guards there were often the only positive influence those kids had—I knew that much first hand. I couldn’t afford to be the reason the operation shut down, temporarily or otherwise.
I turned furious eyes to Wendy, letting her know that I’d stay, but not for her. Then I stormed back into the concession area, threw my bag in a cubby, and pulled my t-shirt over my head. Grabbing a whistle and a rescue tube, I pushed past a pained looking Braxton and made my way over to the chair by the deep end.
My heart was pounding in my chest, my anger still coursing through me. I hated Wendy in that moment for so many reasons. For lying. For manipulating me. And for dredging up a past I was more than happy to leave there. Braxton and I hadn’t spoken in years, and I liked it that way. Maybe liked was too strong a word, but I was used to our estrangement. It was status quo. Her thrusting me into a situation that snatched away the safety I found in accepting things between Braxton and me had me raging with emotions. Emotions I didn’t feel like processing while sitting poolside under an umbrella.
1983: Cruel Summer (Love in the 80s #4) Page 1