Danielle Jamie
Table of Contents
Copyright
Zipping my suitcase, I pull my luggage off of my bed, grab my purse, and look around my room one more time before finally making my legs move and walk out, shutting the door behind me. My stiletto heels clink loudly as I make my way down the long hallway as the sound ricochets off of the walls. I stomp down the long, winding metal staircase of the apartment myself and two of my friends share just off campus, and head outside to the cab waiting for me.
Everyone else has already left, flying or driving back home for spring break, while I stayed here procrastinating for as long as possible before finally having no choice but to go back home. Spring break officially started today, March 30th. But because today’s a Monday, my roommates, along with almost everyone else here at the California State University in Long Beach, all left on Saturday. Half of the school is more than likely sipping drinks poolside in Cabo right now, soaking up the warm sunshine. Which is exactly where I should be, alongside my roommates, Dallas and Hailey. But instead, I’m like the other half of the college population, who opted to go home and take advantage of having Mommy and Daddy cook, clean, and do their laundry for them.
Normally, I'm more than thrilled to return home after being away at school, but this time—not so much.
Usually, returning home means hanging around my house with all of my friends as we catch up after being apart at college. But instead, I’ll now be playing house with my mother and her newest flavor of the damn month.
Three years ago, right after my graduation, my father and mother sat me down to tell me they were getting a divorce. I knew it was coming. They were never together. I hadn't witnessed my parents be affectionate towards one another in years. It was just a matter of time before they went their separate ways.
Of course, they did the cliché thing a lot of parents do, because they think it's the best choice. But the reality of it is we would all have been a lot happier if they turned off the life support on their sham of a marriage when they knew it didn't have a chance of recovering. Instead, they chose to wait until the child graduated high school, and then once they prepared to leave for college, Bam! Hit them with the major shocker, which in reality was completely obvious: they were getting a divorce.
Two years after the divorce, my father eloped with a girl half my mother’s age, doing yet another cliché move. But oddly enough, I actually like Alison. She's sweet, funny, and a great shopping partner. It's a little weird feeling as if my stepmother is one of my best friends, but I guess it's better than him marrying someone I can't stand.
Sadly though, my mother has not had the same luck in the love department as my father. She's had her fair share of boyfriends, but nothing that’s resulted in anything long-term.
She texted me this morning with a reminder to be at the airport by three p.m. so I don't miss my flight back to San Francisco. Along with her reminder was a message telling me that I’m to head straight home after my flight lands and that a car would be waiting for me. I guess she has something important to tell me, and it can't wait.
Of course, it's no shocker. My mother is one of the top divorce attorneys in all of the Golden Gate district, so she's used to getting her way or fighting you to the death until she does.
My father is a family practice doctor who has always put others first. Which with his career, was a good thing, but on a personal level, not so much. I think that's a reason my parents’ marriage fell apart. My mom and dad were polar opposites. My dad is someone who loves to go on spur of the moment trips and live life freely, while my mother is a workaholic who lives by her work and social calendar.
My mom knows me well enough to know as soon as my plane touches down I would've been hightailing it to my dad’s house so I could kill time there before I have to go home. When I return from college, my mother always insists I come to her house first then my father’s a few days later because she always says we need mother-daughter time to catch up.
I use to love our time together. Now, not so much. All thanks to her newest boy toy, Matthew Sarris. I guess he's some up-and-coming golfer on the 2014-2015 PGA tour, which I couldn’t give a flying fuck about. Golf is the most boring sport on the damn planet. My mother used to agree with me on this and would bitch at my father whenever he would turn it on. But now, it's her favorite sport. Every day that she's off, she’s spending it with him at the country club where he's teaching her how to golf.
Matt is nice—don't get me wrong—but he is the most arrogant person on Earth. I swear he stares at his reflection, grooming his perfectly slicked back hair, every time he passes a damn mirror or a window that casts his reflection. To make matters worse, he has a son two years older than me who is just as big of a self-obsessed douchebag as his father.
Luckily, until now, I've not had to spend more than a few days with Matt or his son Linc because he was with his mother in Sacramento during Christmas break. But because it's spring break, Linc and I have been demanded to spend a week in San Francisco with my mother and Matt for what they keep claiming to be ‘family bonding time’.
Now, come on. They've been together five months. I am counting down the days until my mother grows bored and kicks him to the curb. He’s been jet-setting all over the world since they started seeing each other. My mother gets jealous easily, so their relationship is a ticking time bomb. He’s extremely attractive for his age, and it’s rare that men like him want a woman pushing fifty, especially when they’re only forty-three.
Most men are shallow pigs and need pretty, young, eye-candy trophy wives on their arms. Especially if they’re famous. Which from the looks of things, he’s really grown in popularity over the last year in the PGA.
I wouldn’t put it past him at all to be banging the crap out of golf groupies, which sadly, they do have—it’s pretty pathetic.
Go be a football or Major League Baseball groupie. At least then you have a chance to see some actual hotties. Not a bunch of old geezers popping Bayer tablets, so they don't have a heart attack while walking eighteen holes!
I climb into the back of the cab and try to push thoughts of going home to the back of my mind. For now, I'll pop my earbuds in, crank up some T-Swift, and get lost in my steamy romance novel to pass the time until my flight boards.
I can only pray for thick fog and a long flight delay. But with the forecast for once predicting nothing but blue skies and sunshine back home, I doubt that'll happen.
San Francisco, here I come. Please let me find my mom’s house stocked with enough booze to put me in a coma for the next week, or so help me God, I may not survive this spring break.
Thankfully, when I arrived at my mother’s humble abode, no one was anywhere to be found. She still lives in the Queen Anne home she fully restored throughout the years as I was growing up. All of my friends at college constantly gush over my Full House style house back home. It’s fascinating to them but to me it’s normal. There're a million homes in San Francisco that look like mine.
I quickly bee lined it to my room dropping my suitcase beside the door and pulled out my cell to text my childhood best friend, Tessa. We’ve been best friends since the first grade, and even after three years of attending different colleges, we’ve managed to stay close.
I’m in Long Beach studying Marine Biology, while she’s at Brown being groomed to be an attorney like our mothers, who both work for the same law firm.
She wants to be the next Erin Brockovich. Though, thank God, not some brown-nosing bitch like most of our mothers’ attorney friends.
It wasn’t twenty minutes later, and Tessa was crashing through my front door like the tornado that she is. She’s a ball of energy, even when she’s crammed for finals and hasn’t slept for days. I used to loathe h
er in high school, because I’d come to class looking like a character off of The Walking Dead, and she’d blow in with not a hair out of place and not a bag under her eyes.
“Reunited and it feels sooo good!” Tessa sings as she runs towards me, pulling me in for a hug.
Laughing, I hug her tightly before releasing her and resting my hands on my hips. I take in her new look. Her once long, curly brown hair is now cut into a shoulder-length style, and flat ironed, giving it a sleek, smooth look. “It does! I missed you like crazy, chick!” Eyeing her hair, I purse my lips for a moment, making her squirm before spreading a big, bright smile across my lips. “I love the new hair. It screams badass attorney.”
She does look amazing with her new hair. She used to always keep her naturally curly hair long and full of bounce. Never changing it. Ever. I tried to flat iron it once, and it went right back to curly in a matter of minutes. Me, on the other hand, I can’t get my hair to curl for the life of me.
So I’m still rocking my long, straight hair I’ve had since high school. I’ve only now added some layers to it. I know, what a rebel!
I look at it as, If it isn’t broke, don’t fix it. I love my hair the way it is.
I get compliments all the time from people on campus, who tell me I look like Emma Stone’s long lost twin. We both have the same strawberry blonde hair, and green eyes that are practically clear against my pale complexion. The only difference is bangs terrify me. No bangs for this chick!
When I was younger, I use to envy Tessa for her Latin heritage. She always looked tan, no matter what time of the year it was. Which is a huge thing in San Francisco, because the weather here blows monkey balls. It rains a lot. I couldn’t run away to Long Beach fast enough. But since moving there, SPF 100 has become my best friend. My freckled face and fair skin don’t do well in the hot Southern California sun. But since going away to college, I’ve embraced my unique appearance. Every boyfriend I’ve had has said they first noticed me because I stood out on campus, catching their eye.
My last boyfriend, Heath, and I were together for the last eleven months. We originally planned on spending spring break together in Cabo with a bunch of our friends. But then we got into a huge fight because I had to go back to San Francisco, and he wouldn’t come with me. He said ‘Spring break is for partying with friends while hanging out on the beaches of Mexico. Not coming to rainy and boring-as-all-hell San Francisco.’
I swear I was two seconds away from kneeing him in his balls. What boyfriend of almost a year ditches his girlfriend to go party in Mexico? Men are assholes. Plain and simple. Before he left Saturday, he sent me a text saying we were done. I know exactly why he did it. It’s because he wants to whore it up across the damn border with drunk college girls. Like I said: asshole.
So I’ve made it my life’s mission to enjoy every minute I’m here and not think about Heath at all. First thing on my agenda is to find out where all the spring breakers are and see if we can stir up a little trouble.
“So what’s on the schedule for tonight?” Tessa asks as she follows me through the French doors, out onto the patio.
I plop down on a lounger beside the in-ground pool and shift onto my side, curling my legs up tightly beneath my butt, and face Tessa, who mirrors my position. “My mom said she wanted to announce something to Linc and me tonight.”
I roll my eyes at the mere mention of his name before continuing, “All I know is she better not be announcing she’s knocked up because seriously, she’s almost fifty. The only babies in her future should be grandbabies. Or announcing they’re getting married. As soon as we have our nice little family pow-wow, I’m down for anything. It’s spring break; there have to be some parties going on somewhere.”
“I agree on both of those. They’re not even living together yet, are they? So I doubt it’s either of those things.”
I suddenly feel myself calm down as I let Tessa’s words sink in. She’s right. Sure, Matt stays here with my mom, and she stays at his place, but no one has ever moved in officially anywhere. But now my mind is slowly churning as my thoughts begin to swirl around in my head. What if this sit-down is to announce Matt is moving in here—or, even worse, my mother is moving in with him. I grew up in this house. I don’t want to even think about having to move and live under Matt and Linc’s roof.
My eyes grow large as I voice my thoughts out loud. “What if they’re getting us all together to announce they’re moving in together? What if my mother has lost her mind and decided to move into Matt’s place?”
Tessa shrugs her shoulders. “Well, the only thing you can do is pray it’s none of those things. Maybe it’s a surprise vacation for spring break or something. I wouldn’t stress about it.”
Pulling my phone out of my hipster, I pull up my mom in my contacts and shoot her a quick text. “I’m going to ask my mom now and see when we’re having this family time. The sooner we get it over with, the faster we can get out of here.”
Me:
I’m at the house. When r u guys going to be here for the big meeting? Tessa wants to go grab dinner and then hang out with some friends.
The sound of the French doors slamming causes Tessa and me to jump in our seats just as I’m hitting send on my text. I snap my head towards the doors leading out to the patio.
“Mmm, Forbidden is here,” Tessa purrs as she practically rapes Linc with her eyes. I can’t help but laugh at her. She has no shame.
She nicknamed Linc ‘Forbidden’ when our parents first started dating, because she said he’s like the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden. He’s gorgeous and tempting, but untouchable.
He barely acknowledges us sitting by the pool as he and a few of his friends head toward my mother’s outdoor grill and bar. They all grab beers from the mini fridge and sit down at the outdoor patio set.
“Hey, asshole,” I shout at him from across the pool. “Nice to see you and your friends just making yourselves at home.” Climbing off of the lounger, I kick my heels off and pad across the tiles barefoot.
Tessa quickly jumps up and follows me as I make my way over to the group of guys. They’re all hot, of course. Linc only hangs out with preppy, pompous jerkoffs who get mani-pedis and wax their damn eyebrows. I went to high school with all of them, including Linc. But they all graduated two years before me, so I was barely a blip on their radar until our parents started doing the nasty.
Lacing his fingers together behind his head, Linc leans back in the chair, giving me a cocky grin as I approach the table. “Hey, sis. Seeing as I live here now, yes, I am making myself at home. Oops, did I spill the big announcement before dear ol’ dad and Vivian got the chance to?” he asks, with sarcasm dripping from his words.
My mouth falls open, but I quickly recover, slamming my jaw closed. “I’m not your sister, so don’t ever call me that again. It’s gross. And I already assumed that was the big announcement, douchebag. Really, I couldn’t care less. I’m just glad they’re not announcing they eloped. Because we both know this isn’t going to last.”
Glaring at him, I roll my eyes as he continues smirking up at me, and turn my back to him so I can mix myself a drink. I need something good and strong. Especially knowing I am going to be living under the same roof as him until the fifth of April. I’m now mentally counting down the days until I return to school.
“Well, ain’t you just a little Debbie downer? I think a marriage is in the horizon. From the look of things, we’ll be in each other’s lives for many years to come. Don’t worry, if your granny panties get mixed up in my laundry, I promise to return them to you.”
I mumble under my breath as I mix my drink, “Why couldn’t it have been a fucking trip somewhere warm and tropical?”
I look back at him over my shoulder as my cheeks flush red. God, he is the biggest asshole. All the guys are cracking up at Linc’s comment about my underwear. “I don’t wear granny panties, asshole.” Feeling brazen, I take a long gulp of my drink, ignoring the burn from the liquor as it slide
s down my throat and warms my belly. Grabbing the skirt of my dress, I whip it up in the air, flashing my pink lace cheeky panties from Victoria’s Secret.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sit inside and wait for our parents to finally get here and announce their shit, so I can get out of here and be around some real men.”
Linc and the guys sit around the table with their mouths hanging open for a few beats before all of his friends break out in a fit of laughter. I even get a few catcalls from them as I swish my ass, making the skirt of my dress sway side to side, rubbing against the backs of my thighs.
With my drink in my hand, I walk over to the lounger I was sitting on, slip my heels back on, and make my way back inside. Tessa’s face is beet-red as she speed walks ahead of me into the house. The second the door closes behind me, she burst out laughing, leaning over and clutching her waist.
I can’t help it, and find myself laughing too. We’re laughing so hard we have tears in our eyes.
“Oh, my God! I cannot believe you did that! Did you see their faces?! Linc’s was priceless!”
“That was pretty freaking hilarious!” I say between giggles as I glance through the glass doors back out onto the patio, and watch Linc and his friends as they all continue to laugh and talk about the little stunt I pulled out there. Linc will learn quickly I’m no pushover. Whatever stunts he tries to pull, I can roll with them and come right back at him ten times harder.
The front door opens, and the sound of my mom and Matt’s voices carrying through the foyer into the family room forces us to stop our fit of laughter. I quickly wipe at the tears in my eyes and do breathing exercises to try and calm down.
The sound of my mother’s heels clicking on the hardwood floor grows louder, as does their chatter as they enter the room. “Hi, honey! What’s so funny? Your faces are redder than an apple right now. Whatever it is, it must’ve been a doozy to get you girls laughing that hard.”
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