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Chasing Ellie: A Chasing Fireflies Spin Off

Page 2

by Paige P. Horne


  “Let me get another smoke,” I say to Hudson as he walks out behind me.

  “Get your own smokes, man. I don’t have many.”

  “I’ll buy you a pack. Just let me get one.”

  “How?” he asks, sitting down on the steps. “You could barely buy a pack back in Chicago with that shitty fake ID you’ve got.”

  “Hey, I got that for him,” Ronnie chimes in, proud and father-of-the-year like.

  “Yeah, that’s why it’s shitty.” Hudson shakes his head and grabs a Red from his pack before setting it down beside him. He goes to light his smoke, and I snatch up the rest and run down the steps, turning around with a smile that sayswhat you gonna do?

  “Hey.” He jumps up. “Tommy, I ain’t playing with you. Give me those back.” He runs a hand over his buzzed head and eyes me.

  “Come get ’em,” I tease.

  He walks toward me and reaches. I step back.

  “This is your last warning.” Eyes like mine narrow, and he balls his fists at his sides. I smirk, happy to have a little fun.

  “Let me see what you got, big brother.” I take my hat off and toss it far enough away.

  “Happy to.” He grins, swinging his fist, barely missing my face when I duck. I drop the smokes, and in one quick step I head-butt him, hitting his nose. He laughs as he wipes the fresh blood from his top lip. Looking at his hand, the boy who likes a good fight as much as I do gives me an evil grin. “You’re dead.”

  “I bet twenty on Tommy,” Uncle Joe yells out.

  “Nah, Hudson will win,” Daddy Dearest argues.

  “Yo, screw you, Ronnie,” I call back just as my brother slams his body into mine, almost knocking the air from my lungs.

  “Shit,” I breathe out, lifting my leg and slamming into his groin. He rams his fist into my ribs making me cough. We roll around and throw more punches until my healing lip bursts open again. A police siren goes off behind us.

  “Oh hell,” Uncle Joe says, getting on two feet. “Who called Cash?” He looks over as I jump off Hudson.

  I stand and straighten my shirt. Brushing the grass from my jeans, I spit blood out of my mouth and wipe my cut-up knuckles on the bottom of my T-shirt. With a bloody nose, Hudson looks worse than me.This fight was mine, I think. He still has a smile, though. Following Joe’s gaze, I see an older lady standing out on her porch with a phone in one hand and the other on her hip. Her hot curls dangle around her face as she scowls at us.

  “Thanks, old hag,” Uncle Joe calls out to her. She shoots him a bird before she walks back inside with a huff. I laugh, because damn.

  “What the hell is going on here, Joe?” a man asks as he steps out of the truck. He wears a baseball hat and has a shadow of a beard. I watch him as he turns and says something to whoever else is in the truck before he shuts his door. The passenger side opens and out steps a girl.

  Jesus.

  Wearing a baseball hat too, she has long dark curls that hang over her left shoulder, and without a doubt, she’s prettier than any girl back home. The man Uncle Joe called Cash looks back at her.

  “I told you to stay in the truck, Little Miss.”

  Little Miss?My lip lifts at the name he used. I peer over at Hudson who wipes his nose. He grins at me. Obviously, we’re thinking the same thing. This girl is fucking beautiful.

  “Dad,” she says, likereally, before her eyes land on me. I give her a smirk and bring my sore bottom lip between my teeth.

  “Cash, these here are my nephews. We were just having a little fun,” Uncle Joe says, grinning back at Ronnie.

  “Didn’t look like fun to me. Looked like you two were beating the crap out of each other,” he says, pointing his eyes to us.

  I chuckle as I look beside me and see the pack of smokes on the ground.

  “We were just... What do you call it, Ronnie? Roughhousing?” I reach down and swipe the cigarettes up. Pulling one out, I look over at Hudson.

  “Fucker,” he mouths.

  Cash narrows his eyes when I look back, but my attention shoots to Little Miss when she speaks.

  “So, who won?” She leans her hip against the truck and crosses her arms.

  “Ellie,” Cash says in warning.

  “Just curious, chief.” She smiles, then I smile.

  Ellie.

  “I did, Ellie,” I speak up and look back at Ronnie.Asshole.I set my sight back on her. Eyes that are such a soft blue they almost look gray gaze back at me curiously, and I watch her as she takes her lip between her teeth, trying to contain a smile I know is there.

  I think I’m going to like living here.

  Chapter Two

  Ellie

  Sixteen years old. A year later.

  When I was nine years old, my daddy told me you’ll only find one true love in this life. It’s the rarest but truest love there is, Little Miss. You find it and you never let it go. I tightened my wavy ponytail and then helped him get up off the floor. With whiskey on his breath and loose change falling out of his pocket, he pushed himself up and put his big arm around my neck. I never wanted to find that kind of love, and I swore every time I helped the man with a broken heart off the old hardwood, I’d never look.

  Dad finally put the Jack down a few years back. He keeps a couple of beers in the fridge from time to time, but I haven’t seen a bottle of whiskey in five solid years. You see, after my dad’s one true love, my mama, decided she didn’t want to live anymore, the police chief of Green Ridge only stayed alive for me. He kept up a good appearance to the rest of the world, and I would never tell anyone about his secret nights of being too pissed to stand up by himself, the crying he didn’t think I could hear, and the gun he left loaded beside wherever he passed out after too much whiskey and tears. Because, even though my daddy was no more than a broken heart, he was my whole world.

  After I got him onto the couch, I told him I didn’t need any of that mushy stuff, that I had him. He only smiled sad before he fell into a deep, drunken slumber. Dad is still my favorite, even though I fight him tooth and nail on everything. And if I’ve heard it once, I’ve heard it a million times—I’m wild just like my mama and strong-minded like my daddy.

  The chief tells me like some animals some people aren’t meant to be tamed. He said Mama was like that, but her mind fought against her. Luckily for me, I didn’t inherit Sara Williams’ bipolar disorder… well, not yet anyway. That could go either way, but I don’t show any signs so far. I did get her free-spirited attitude though and her wild, crazy curls, which I try to straighten, but fail most of the time.

  I heard a story once about my mama. How she climbed a bridge that was very high up, and on a dare she jumped off into a lake that was very far down. I heard none of the other kids would do it, that she was the only one, and she was called crazy for doing so. I’ve heard lots of stories about Sara Williams, but this one is my favorite, because even though I didn’t get to know her as well as I’d liked, I have a strong feeling that she felt completely free when she dove off that bridge.

  “You won’t do it!” I hear from the ground below me.

  “A dare’s a dare,” I call back.

  I kick my Converse off and slide my cutoffs down my legs before stepping out of them. Lifting my T-shirt up and over my head, I drop it beside my shorts and bite my lip. Looking down at the black water beneath me, my toes grip the edge of the old railroad bridge when I step up. It’s not the same bridge my mama jumped from, but it’ll do. I pick my hair up and move it to one shoulder. Popping my knuckles, I inhale then exhale a deep, steady breath. I smile over at the boys.

  “We gonna stand here all day or you gonna jump?” the one with the black beanie says.

  Narrowing my blues, I spread my arms out wide, and just as a gust of wind sweeps through my brown curls I step off. Falling fast and feeling like I’m flying, I clamp my eyes shut and point my toes. The cool breeze moves across my arms and lifts my hair from my neck. My heart hammers against my chest, and I smile because I know this is what she felt�
��–freedom and a satisfaction that she made this decision. Sure, it was a dare, but she made the leap on her own.

  I hit the water, and tears form behind my lids because I’ve never felt so close to the woman whose sickness took her away from me as I do right at this moment. Tiny water bubbles move against my face as I kick my feet and move my arms. Opening my eyes, I see light near the surface, and I breathe in deep when I break the top. The sun’s rays warm my face as I look over at the boys.

  “Shit, L.” Hudson leans cool against a tree with his arms shoved into his pockets. He’s got a Red between his lips, and his buzzed hair hides beneath a snapback. He looks over at Tommy, like told you she’d do it.

  My best friend wears a smirk with his dark shorts and all black Converse. He slides his black beanie off his head, and the summertime sunshine makes his brown hair look mahogany. I dive back under and swim through the inky water, making it over to the shore. Climbing up onto the old wood, careful not to step onto any loose nails, I wish I would have thought this through and brought a towel.

  “I think we had a deal?” I look at Tommy. His eyes are watching. I feel my skin heat, and it’s not from the sun. Wringing my long hair out, I wipe down my face and wait for his eyes to come back up.

  “A dare’s a dare,” the guy who’s clearly checking me out replies as his smirk bends into an all-teeth smile. He lifts his shirt, and my blues can’t help but look down when he shows his stomach. The police siren causes me to turn my head away from Tommy’s strip show.

  “Shit,” I curse.

  “Ellie Williams, what the hell are you doing?” The chief’s got his window down and a stern look on his face. I know I’m in trouble because he hardly ever calls me Ellie. It’s been Little Miss since before I was born, and it’s stayed that way. Telling him to stop with the nickname is useless. He won’t listen.

  Looking over at my dad, I think I literally see steam coming out of his ears. It doesn’t help matters that I’m only in a bralette and very short boy shorts, which are both wet.

  “Where are your clothes?”

  Scrunching my nose, I cast my eyes up toward the bridge.

  “Go get her clothes, Tommy. Ellie, get in the truck. I’ve got a towel in the back seat. Make sure you get it and sit on it.”

  I try not to smile as Tommy takes off toward the hill of the bridge, but I fail. It’s fitting for him to go get them since he’s the one who dared me. Hudson had all the faith.

  “Hudson, do you two need a ride home?”

  “Nah, I’ve got my car,” the one who believes in me replies, pointing his head toward his 1990 Lincoln Town Car parked some ways back.

  “You got her running again?” the chief asks, turning to look.

  “Yes, sir. Just needed a new water pump. She runs like a dream now,” Tommy says, blowing smoke from his lungs and smiling.

  Dad nods. “Good to hear. Ellie, get in the damn truck.”

  “Yes, sir,” I mock, which earns me a hard look from my dad. I give him a closed lip smile before I open the door and reach back to grab the towel that’s stained with my dad’s coffee spills. I flip it on the side that’s not and place myself on top.

  I’ve been in this truck more times than I can count, and they haven’t all been good reasons. My dad drives an old Ford pickup when he’s off-duty, and just like me it’s got a nickname too. Old Blue has been around since before I was born. Given as a birthday gift from Grandpa, Dad has had it since he was sixteen. It used to be in bad shape, but he put some money into it, and now it’s an extremely nice looking classic. My fingers and toes are crossed he gives it to me sometime soon.

  The boy who likes to dare me to do things and I have taken it for a spin a few times. Pushing it out of the driveway on late nights, we waited until the engine was away from dad’s ears and then we’d turn the key. After riding old back roads until the gas tank was almost on empty, Tommy would have a gas can and we’d fill it back to where it was before we pushed it back into the driveway.

  I see my clothes fetcher making his way back so I let the window down and reach my hand out, ready to put my shirt on. Before Dad climbs in, Tommy leans close.

  “You’re crazy, you know that?” He gives me his smile.

  “You’re crazier.”

  “I’ll call you later. I’ve got a date tonight with Aubrey,” he says as my dad hops in.

  I shrug. “Have fun.”

  “Tommy, what are you doing with a cigarette behind your ear?” my dad asks.

  My best friend grins. “Just killing myself with bad habits, chief.” He pats the edge of the door. “I’ll see ya, L.”

  Pulling the gearshift down, Dad puts it in drive and I pull the dry cotton over my head, knowing it’ll be soaked from my bralette soon.

  “Those boys grew up too fast.” Shaking his head, he looks in the rearview at Tommy climbing into the Lincoln. “I’ve told them both to stop smoking.”

  He has, but those boys do what they want, always have. Leaning back, I place my feet onto the dash and look down at my mint-colored toenails, noticing one is chipped.

  “Ellie, what the hell were you thinking jumping off that bridge?”

  “Sure are calling me Ellie a lot, Dad, and it wasn’t that high.”

  “That’s your name, isn’t it?” Giving me a sideways glance and a look that says I don’t like your attitude before he turns back to the road, he continues, “You could have broken your neck.”

  “But I didn’t.” I give my dad a defiant smile.

  “You shouldn’t be taking your clothes off around Tommy and Hudson.”

  “I wasn’t naked.”

  “Thank God for that,” he says, throwing his hand up. Chuckling, I stick my head out the window, letting the warm breeze dry my hair some.

  “What am I going to do with you? Put you in a bubble?”

  “You seriously have to lighten up, Dad,” I say from outside the window. Spreading my arms out, I let the breeze caress my face, whip through my hair, and remind me that summertime is the best.

  “What? Get back in the truck, Little Miss.”

  I feel the tug on my shirt as he pulls me back in.

  “We got one life, chief. One chance to do it all.” Sitting down, I lean my head back against the seat and look over at him. He drives with the heel of his hand at the top of the wheel, while his other rests on the console. Hair that’s sprouted a few grays, probably because of me, is underneath the ball cap he wears all the time. His lips are in a firm line, but I can see he’s trying to make them stay that way. He wants to smile.

  “How about we make that life last if possible, right?” With caring eyes, he gives in and smiles at me, and I can’t help but smile back. This is my dad, the best man in the world.

  “Okay. No more jumping off bridges.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re just like…”

  “Your mama,” I finish for him.

  “You’re wild, Little Miss. Sometimes I think you have no limits.”

  *

  The man who loves me most parks his police truck at the office, and with towel lines on the backside of my thighs, I hop out. The afternoon sun shines down the streets of Green Ridge, lighting the small-town buildings with rays of gold. Sliding my legs into my cutoffs, I flop my shoes onto the ground and slip my mint green toes in, dipping my finger into the back to unfold the shoe around my heel.

  I hear the bell that’s been up on the door longer than I can remember ring as we walk in, and I turn around when it falls to the floor behind me.

  “Can’t seem to keep that thing up there ever since you ripped it down.” Older-than-she-looks Anne walks past me with a disapproving tone to pick up the bell. She’s the sweetest lady I know and was once the secretary here. But a few years after her husband, the former Chief of Green Ridge, passed away, she eventually decided it was time for her to retire. Piper, the waitress who used to work at Chevy’s, the popular diner in town, took her place.

  “Anne, that was more than eleven years ag
o,” Dad chimes in as he walks over to the coffeepot.

  “Doesn’t matter. It still doesn’t hang the same as it used to.”

  “Here,” she says, walking over to him. “You hang it back up there. I can’t reach.”

  “Why’d you rip it down, Dad?” I ask as I grab a cup of coffee too.

  “It was a bad time,” he says before he returns the silver chimes back where they’ve always been. “And you’re only getting one of those.” He looks at my cup as I’m dumping sugar into it.

  Once I’m satisfied with the amount of white deliciousness in my brew, I take a sip, sucking in air to try to cool my tongue from the burn.

  “He was acting like an ass.” Anne winks at me as she picks up her watering pot. Smiling over at her, I flop down in my chair and cross my foot over my knee. In her seventies, which you’d only know if she told you, she’s a flower genius, and regardless of her retirement, she still spends a good bit of time here.

  “Why’s your hair wet, Little Miss?” the woman who’s more like a grandma to me than my own two asks.

  I look down at my shirt that now has wet boob marks from my soaked bralette.

  “I went swimming,” I say, taking a piece of candy out of the candy dish on Piper’s desk.

  Unwrapping it, I pop sour goodness into my mouth as Dad speaks up.

  “She jumped off the old railroad bridge outside of town.”

  I look over at him with hard eyes.

  He grins. “If you’re going to tell it, tell it like it happened, Little—”

  “Dad,” I interrupt him. “Seriously, chill with the baby nickname.”

  “My bad,” he says before he disappears to his office. I stick my tongue out in his direction before looking back at Anne.

  “You did not jump off a bridge,” she says, disgruntled.

  “It was a dare, Anne. I had to.”

  “You did not.” She frowns.

  “I did,” I say as I put my candy to the side of my mouth.

 

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