The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories

by Brina Courtney

  She inhaled his musky scent. “Kiss me.”

  He obliged, their lips and tongues moving in perfect synchronization. When her head found the pillow he let go of her to remove his shirt. She looked into his beautiful eyes and smiled.

  She didn’t love Brighton, not yet. But she was ready to try.

  Want more?

  Brina writes other great stories! Sign up here for her newsletter. You’ll find out first when her new books are available.

  Loved it?

  Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing it on the website of your choice. It helps readers find her books. If you do write a review, please send her an email at brinacourtney@yahoo.com so she can thank you with a personal email. Or visit her at http://www.brinacourtney.com.

  Share it!

  Tell your friends. Like it on Facebook. Tweet about it. Tell a friend over coffee. Word of mouth is an author’s bread and butter.

  About the Author

  Brina Courtney is a young adult author obsessed with chocolate, crime shows, and fantasy movies. She lives in a small town in Pennsylvania with her husband and two very loud, small dogs.

  Turn the page for a special look at MOVE, Brina’s YA Contemporary serial.

  Move

  Episode I

  By Brina Courtney

  Sometimes Dallas gets drunk and doesn’t remember what she did last night. Sometimes she loses friends. Sometimes her mom’s boyfriend beats her until she can’t walk. Sometimes her life sucks, but sometimes it’s beautiful.

  When Dallas dances her world is her own and she can escape her otherwise horrible life. Dallas now must overcome her past to give herself a future at the Allenwood Academy of Dance in Cape Haven, CT. When her feet are bleeding and her heart is breaking, Dallas must find the strength to go on.

  1

  Just move. She kept telling herself as she fled, sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her through the dark woods. Her breathing became labored and she recognized she needed to find a place to hide. She could hear her mom’s ridiculous boyfriend, Mike, stumbling his way through the trees behind her. Dallas knew she was light on her feet however she wasn't sure how good his endurance would be as intoxicated as he was. His rage would push him further than he had ever gone before, she was sure of it. She clutched the six pack she'd stolen from his fridge and smiled to herself. She couldn't help it. She liked to have a good time and the beer helped with that. She thought back to the last time he had beat her, only a few weeks before when she had stolen from him. She didn't know how he kept catching her, possibly her own mother was ratting her out; it wouldn't be the first time. But as long as she got away she thought she would be safe.

  She brought her eyes up from the ground hoping to see the old building on the horizon. She looked behind her one more time, the wind stinging her eyes as she realized that Mike was no longer following her. She figured the beer back home outweighed running through the woods just for a measly six pack; something he could finish in just an hour. She slowed down the pace considerably but continued to jog as she made her way up the hill to her safe haven. No one had any idea that this building was up here hidden amongst the foliage, but it was where she enjoyed peace and solitude. But ever since Dallas could remember this had been her spot; her spot to hide, her spot to escape.

  She trudged up the hill mud sticking to her flats that hardly fit her. It had been years since Dallas had gotten new clothes and shoes. Everything had come from the secondhand store and although she didn’t mind not having labels like most kids at school she at least wished she had clothes that fit her. She wasn’t tall by any means, but she was thin, so her mom thought children’s clothes should still fit her even though she was a junior in high school. But that didn’t matter now, she had her beer, and she had a place to hide out and drink it. She could ignore her mother, Mike, and all the feelings she had pent up inside.

  Things hadn’t always been that bad for Dallas Tanner, a life once not unlike a childhood dream, sweet and honest. But her dream was shattered when her mom couldn’t put down the drugs and started having affairs, and her father, a businessman, couldn’t see his way out of the mess without leaving Dallas behind. Adults make mistakes too, she’d always told herself that but it still didn’t mean that her heart didn’t hurt every night when she thought of him. She dreamed of him picking her up as a small child and placing her on a swing. He would push her high into the air and she believed she was flying. It was her father who had once taken her to this dance studio so long ago for her first lesson in ballet. It was as if the building had died when Dallas’s relationship with her father had perished. Its floorboards groaned as she entered. She ran her finger along the mirrored walls that remained and slowly made her way to the office where she kept all of her secrets. A few years after Dallas’s father had left the studio had endured a horrific fire and the business had been forced to move. The structure had been considered condemnable but no one in her small Illinois town ever had the heart to complete the project. So here it stood. A shell of its former self almost like an aged Las Vegas dancer, trying to relive its former glory as it welcomed Dallas and her blistered feet.

  Dallas placed the six pack upon the desk that remained in the office with one small chair. Then she took off her shoes and walked back out onto the floor positioning herself in front of the few mirrors that remained whole. She stretched slowly feeling the tenseness of her muscles that she hadn’t used in nearly a month. This is been her first opportunity to slip away from Mike’s evil glare. She still couldn’t believe that her mother had even considered dating him let alone allowing him to move into their home. What had once been an adorable Cape Cod now looked like a place where white trash came to hang out. The sheer amount of druggies that walked in and out of her front door made her stomach queasy as she stretched from her fingertips to her toes. When had her life become such a nightmare?

  She raised her arms simply above her head until her fingertips barely met and spun herself into a pirouette as she allowed her hands to fall slowly down to her sides. She quickly transformed her body into beautiful arabesque before returning to first position. Her instruction was minimal and her natural talent was something to behold. No one had seen her dance in years and that was a disgrace. Dallas had the raw ability that most dancers would die to possess. She was simply breathtaking and while playing music in her head she performed a simple and short routine. The unheard rhythm moved swiftly through her body and she pushed her emotions out through her breaths as she moved. She closed her eyes to imagine a vast crowd before her cheering her on and giving her the encouragement that she desperately needed. When she curtsied and the audience had finished their bravos, she opened her eyes to see only herself in unfit clothes and unwashed hair.

  I better get myself some new clothes soon, she thought to herself, or that social worker’s gonna come back from foster care. Dallas hated her social worker. The woman had been forced upon Dallas after she had entered therapy. It wasn’t her choice but her mother had insisted upon it when Dallas’s father moved out. Dallas wasn’t even sure why she was in therapy to begin with, she refused to talk to the portly man who sat in the chair across the room saying things like “mmm” and “I see.” All that he did was take notes, and refuse to look at her. Then he suggested her case to Children’s Services and now she had an underpaid and truly dismal social worker, who also never looked at her in the eye. For a long time Dallas felt like people believed that if they looked at her, their fathers would leave too, like it was contagious or something. But looking closely at her reflection in the mirror she realized that lately people had been staying away from her because she looked like a charity case. Clearly her mother’s drug use was sapping up all of their resources. She knew her father paid some child support but she had never seen any of it. Somewhere deep down she truly believed that her mother was keeping her from him. Like she was ignoring the custody agreement. That would explain the lack of money as well.

  Dallas slo
wly walked over to the mirror her arm extended, reaching out to touch the face of the gaunt girl in the old cool glass. Her once naturally blonde hair was now dyed a bright red color and her skin looked truly pale. It was hard to imagine that that is what she had become, just another rough looking kid. She shook her head and walked slowly back to the office. She cracked open not one but two beers she’d stolen. She double fisted them allowing the frothy substance to go down her throat at alarming speed. She had finished the entire six pack in under five minutes, something she was used to accomplishing. She crossed her arms over her chest and laid her head back in the chair allowing herself to enjoy the buzz and closed her eyes as she waited to pass out. She knew exactly how to get her body to do what she wanted it to do, she done this so many times before. She took deep breaths and she allowed the darkness to overtake her mind hoping that tonight she would travel to someplace new in her dreams, though she was unsure where she would go.

  Unfortunately today’s dream was something made of nightmares. She recalled a recent altercation with Mike. Her body trembled in response to the awful images crossing her mind and the reminders of how each blow had felt against her skin. It was about two weeks ago when Mike had caught her drinking from a twenty-four pack she had hid beneath her bed in her room. As usual he assumed that she had stolen from him, not without cause either. Dallas was an excellent thief. She learned the skill a few years ago when her mother had stopped providing for her and there was no money to be had. Dallas had to figure out a way to get things that she needed, clothes, money for lunch at school, so she started taking money from her mom’s purse. There was also a shoebox located in her mother’s closet that held most of what Dallas would consider her mother’s life savings. She was only taking minimal money in order to survive but she was still a thief.

  In her dream it was dark when he entered her room and she silently prayed that he would think that she was asleep or passed out and not bother her. Then she saw his huge outline in the doorway, light flooding in from behind him and she realized it wouldn’t matter she was asleep, he would still come after her. She attempted to flee from the bed but with nowhere to go she knew the imminent doom that was upon her as he grabbed her wrists and slapped her back down onto the bed. He took one of his hands to grab both of her wrists in order to free up his right hand which he would later use to punch her. But first as usual he put his hand around her throat and accused her of stealing his booze.

  “You think I wouldn’t find out? I always know when you take from me girl.”

  She ripped her head back and forth, “I didn’t take any this time! I swear it Mike!”

  He leaned in close to her, his musty drunken scent filling her nostrils, “I don’t believe you.” He growled in her ear.

  When she started gasping for breath he released his hand from her throat and she used all her force to attempt to push him off of her but he brought his knee up to her chest and pinned her further into the bed. He wound up hard before hitting her square in the jaw while she writhed in pain. She knew if she stopped struggling he would stop the beating, so she allowed her body to go limp while the pain spread across her face and into her head. He grunted at her, taking the alcohol from beneath her bed and leaving the room. She made sure she couldn’t hear footsteps anymore before she allowed her tears begin.

  The pain in her head was intense but the pain in her heart was far worse. She felt powerless against the man her mother insisted Dallas call ‘father’. But it wasn’t true; no real father would treat their daughter with such disrespect. She allowed the anger to pulse through her body and stood from her bed swaying from the pain at the back of her skull. She lifted a vase from her desk, that had once been her grandmother’s, and threw it against her door. After realizing she had destroyed her only connection to her grandmother she slumped down onto the floor cradling the pieces of broken glass in her hands.

  Dallas was losing control.

  2

  The next morning Dallas found herself sitting at the kitchen table alone. Her mother was away at some menial job making minimum wage and she figured that Mike was either passed out at some bar, or he had finally gotten his stuff together and was at the temporary employment office. She was betting on the first one. She sat quietly staring her cereal waiting for the bus to arrive at the trailer park where she lived. She hated riding the bus; it was so noisy and full. But she didn't have another choice, it was her only way to get to school considering she didn't have a car that ran and it was too far to walk. Her Cheerios floated sadly, soggy from sitting in the milk too long. She bumped at a couple with her spoon and as she heard the mail arrive, she ran out to the box to see if today was the day. Two weeks ago she had applied for a scholarship she heard about at school for a dance academy in New England. It was a boarding school, which meant she could get away from Mike and her mother in all their disgusting habits, she could be her own person. The school was crazy expensive and the only way that Dallas would be able to afford to go is if she got a full ride, something that wasn't very likely to happen, but hope was all that Dallas had to hold onto anymore. She knew that if she didn't find some way out of this hellhole there was no way she could get to college or have any type of trade schooling. Her mom didn't have the money, and Dallas truly believed that her mother just didn't want her to go either. She was one of those parents who wanted you to stay and take care of them, instead of making it on your own. Dallas also kind of thought that her mother didn't want her to be any more intelligent than she was, it may sound strange but some parents are like that. They're supposed to want the best for you, but Dallas thought that if her mother truly believed that she would've dumped Mike and found a real job and a real life a long time ago. Instead her mother shot up with heroin every other night and had loud altercations with her brainless boyfriend.

  Dallas practically ran down the wooden steps as she made her way to the mailbox. When she arrived the mail woman was still putting packages in the metal boxes.

  “Do you have anything for the Tanners?” Dallas asked expectantly.

  The woman nodded, “Yeah I think I have a couple things in here for you. Hold on a second.” She dug through the navy blue bag and came up with three envelopes.

  Dallas thought for a moment about the DVD she had sent in as her audition. A kid from her high school played piano in the background as Dallas put her every emotion into a lyrical routine she choreographed herself. It was a beautiful piece and she could only hope the admissions board at the school would agree.

  As soon as Dallas grabbed them from her she felt that the bottom one had been made of the more substantial material. She pulled up to the top and her eyes grew wide as she saw that the return address was from Allenwood Dance Academy, of Cape Haven, Connecticut. It was then that she walked slowly back to her steps and as she sat down the disappointment flooded her. She had heard all the seniors talk about thin envelopes being the nos, and that the thicker envelopes meant the school had said yes. A few small tears rolled down her cheek as she opened the envelope slowly. She pulled out a beautiful looking letter with a gold seal in the corner of two ballet shoes. But what her eyes saw next was completely unexpected.

  Miss Dallas Tanner,

  Thank you for your interest in the Allenwood Dance Academy. We have reviewed your application extensively and have found you to be a qualified candidate for our scholarship program. We are excited to begin this adventure with you in your next step towards a dance career, and would like you to begin immediately for the fall semester. You may respond by telephone or e-mail, located at the top of this letter. Again we would like to welcome you to Allenwood to support you in your dancing endeavors.

  Sincerely,

  Headmaster Fallsworth

  Allenwood Dance Academy

  Dallas clutched the paper so tightly in her hands she was afraid it was going to rip in front of her. The tears flowed more freely as happiness overtook her disappointment and she realized that her dreams were finally coming true. She was going to g
et out of this place and make something of her life, she thought for a moment about calling her mom but she wasn't sure that the news would excite her mother as much as it made her happy. She decided she would skip the bus that day and began to pack her things, calling a taxi later to get her paperwork from her current school. If she could get on a bus tomorrow to Connecticut, she would.

  3

  Dallas sat on the bus with her one bag of clothing and the small dance bag containing her newly bought ballet slippers. The seat was only slightly uncomfortable and as she put her head against the window to stare out the glass she thought back to the night before.

  Her mother hardly reacted when she told her the amazing news. She just stood there scratching her arms, wanting a fix. Dallas tried to ignore her as her eyes darted around the room looking for her needle.

  “Mom! Are you even listening to me? I'm moving away!” When her mother still didn't make eye contact Dallas tried to speak slowly, “Mom, I got the scholarship. I'm going to boarding school.”

  Her mother nodded at this, “Good for you. There’s some money on my dresser, you can take it for a bus ticket. Be good.”

  Dallas watched her mother’s back as she walked away, wondering when this shell of a woman had once been her vibrant mother. The drugs were killing her, she could see it, but there was nothing she could do. It was Dallas's job to take care of Dallas, and from now on that would be her first priority.

  Unfortunately her excitement allowed her to down a quarter bottle of whiskey at about midnight after purchasing a bus ticket. She passed out as usual, and was fortunate that there were two buses on their way to Connecticut that day, for she had overslept and missed hers. The woman at the ticket window had been nice and exchanged her ticket with no extra cost even though she was supposed to pay an extra twenty dollars for her unused seat. She guessed her straggly clothes and lack of much luggage allowed the woman to believe that her situation was fairly desperate, which it was. There hadn't been much money on the dresser, and after she had paid for the ticket Dallas only had about ten dollars left from her mother. She had fifty of her own. She hoped that things would be provided for her at school, or possibly she could find a job to help support her needs. Another school would just mean more people staring at her unkempt appearance. She didn't mind buying clothes second hand, but she knew she would have to find some nicer ones in order to fit in.