by Laura Clark
I sigh. Why the hell should I help him keep his girlfriend happy? Wait a minute. Did he actually just call her his girlfriend? He has never used that word to describe Georgia, or really any other girl before. This is kind of big news for Kyle. Still, after the way he reacted to Sam and me being together, I'm not so sure I have a very helpful spirit right now.
Kyle is giving me his puppy dog eyes. "Come on, please? I'll do your Saturday chores next weekend . . . ."
My eyebrows perk up with interest for a moment. "Nice try. And to think, I almost fell for it."
"Fell for what?" he asks innocently.
"Mom already told me that you aren't coming home next weekend."
"Busted," Trevor teases Kyle.
"Come on, man. Help a brother out," Kyle says to Trevor.
Trevor just laughs at him, and shakes his head. "You're on your own, man."
"Okay, then the following weekend. Hell, I'll do your chores for the weekend after that, too. Please, lil sis?" Kyle whines.
I sigh before reluctantly agreeing. Two weekends of no chores in exchange for my help with making Georgia feel welcome, seems like a pretty good trade. Especially since I would have done it anyway, because I like Georgia, and there really is no reason for me to punish her for my brother's selfish behavior.
"Fine, but I'm only doing this because I happen to like Georgia, and you could use her positive influence in your life."
Kyle jumps up and pumps his fist in the air victoriously. It makes me want to slap the stupid grin right off his face, but I don't. I figure I can still punish him later.
"Thanks, lil sis. You the best," he says playfully, while rubbing his palms across my head like I'm a puppy that just performed a trick he wanted me to do. I lean away so he can't mess up my hair any more than he already has.
I'm annoyed that he doesn't get just how pissed I really am at him, but I also know that I can't freak out about it right now, not when we have guests here. Mom would totally flip, and nobody needs that right now.
I decide that I've been staring at Trevor and his ridiculously hot body for long enough. It is time to finally cool off. I slip my cover up over my head, and toss it onto the chair next to me. Even though I am not looking at him, I can feel Trevor watching me. It makes me extremely self-conscious.
As if to confirm my suspicions, Kyle's voice rakes through the air. "Yo, Maddox. Keep your eyes off my little sister when she's half naked, okay? The last thing I need right now is another D-bag to try to keep in line," his voice is stern.
Even though I know my brother is probably half joking with Trevor when he says this, it still pisses me off. He seems to have a knack for embarrassing me in front of boys.
I turn around to see Trevor's reaction. Sure enough, his cheeks are blushing pink. The weird thing about it, though, is he is looking right at me with his lips slightly turned up. He cocks his head to the side subtly, and simply shrugs. It's almost as if he is trying to tell me with his eyes, "Okay. Now you caught me checking you out."
Why would he want me to know this? At least I had the decency to want to hide it from him. He has to stop flirting with me. It is messing with my head too much. I want to be mad at him, but I can't. After all, he is no worse than me. He's just more honest about it. Plus, it's damned near impossible to stay mad at him when his dimples are always on display, tugging at my heartstrings.
Luckily, Kyle disappears again. I silently wish he would just stay away for the rest of the day. I know at some point, we need to have that brother-sister pow wow about boundaries, and this whole Sam situation, but this is not the time.
I step out of my Havaianas, and hop across the hot concrete like I'm playing a game of Hot Lava. When I dive in, the cool water instantly refreshes me, all the way from the burning soles of my feet to my flushed cheeks. Right as I'm coming up for air, I feel someone splashing me from behind.
Before I can turn to see who it is, I am being scooped up, and tossed across the water. I don't have to see him to know it is Trevor, because once again, his touch sends a bunch of tingling shocks pulsing through my body.
I chase him down and jump on his back, wrapping my legs around his waist. I try to dunk him repeatedly, but he just won't budge. He's too damned strong. I finally ease up my grip from his arms, and allow my hands to run lightly down his bare chest and stomach. Good Lord, is his body nice. I instantly pull my hands away and release my legs when I realize what I have done. This is not good. I cannot trust myself to be alone with this guy.
Even though I have removed myself from him, Trevor turns around and grabs my hands, preventing me from slipping any further away. He tugs my arm gently and pulls me close to him, too close. For a moment, he just stares at me intensely, as if he is about to close the gap between us, lean down and kiss me. I stand there, completely frozen.
Thankfully, Kyle resurfaces with his swim trunks on, before we could do anything stupid. Trevor drops my hands immediately and swims away. I'm glad my brother wasn't paying attention. I can't deal with him fighting with yet another boy, just because he can't handle the idea of his little sister growing up.
Now, I really want Kyle to stay here. I'm afraid of what might happen if he doesn't. It isn't long before Georgia joins us, too. We should be fine, so long as they stay out here, and we aren't left alone. My devious mind can't help but wonder if he would have kissed me, had Kyle not appeared when he did.
Seriously. What the hell is wrong with me? I must just be desperate to fill the void that Sam has left behind. I'm just looking for a distraction. I need someone, anyone to make me forget about everything. The problem is Trevor can't be the one to do that. Avery is too damned important to me. I would never jeopardize our friendship like that.
I distance myself from Trevor for a while. It's the only way for me to halt these feelings I am battling. The only problem is when he isn't around, that familiar ache in the pit of my stomach comes wrenching back, reminding me of what I am missing. For some reason, Trevor makes me forget all of that. He is the perfect distraction, and that is exactly why I need to stay away from him.
Georgia seems a bit more nervous than she did the other night. I suppose it would be pretty intimidating to meet your boyfriend's parents for the first time. I am going to try to be as friendly as I can, in order to make her feel more comfortable. Hopefully, my mom will take it easy on her today.
I watch her smile timidly at Kyle. He leans in, brushes her hair back over her shoulder affectionately, and whispers something in her ear. Her shoulders instantly relax, and she flashes him a warm, appreciative smile. He smiles, says something else to her, and kisses the top of her head, before slowly pulling away and disappearing inside.
She looks around nervously, not completely sure what to do with herself. I wrap my towel around my waist and walk over to her.
"Hey, Georgia. How are you?" I ask cheerfully.
"Hi, Laila," she says with a little bit too much enthusiasm. The poor girl, she is definitely a ball of nerves.
"I saw you at church today. What did you think?" I ask casually, as I lay my wet towel out on the lounge chair. Water is dripping down my arms and legs, but the sun seems to suck the moisture away almost instantly.
"Oh, it was nice. The church itself is an extraordinary building. I just love all of the old woodwork and the intricately carved details. It reminds me so much of some of the ancient Roman buildings we have been studying in my Art History class."
She seems a little relieved to be talking to me, even though she is speaking way too fast. However, when we hear my mom's laughter trailing from the deck, her eyes get really big and start darting around the patio anxiously.
"Yeah. It is a really old building. I think my mom said it is over a hundred years old or something like that."
"Wow." Even though she is trying to sound engaged, I can tell she is preoccupied. I pretend not to notice.
"Yeah. There used to be this old school house connected, but they are in the middle of renovating it. I am not even sur
e what their plans are with the space, but my mom said it's probably going to take them another three years to complete the project."
"That's cool."
We are looking at each other awkwardly, wondering what else we can talk about.
"Did you like Father Sanchez's sermon today?" I finally ask, in an effort to keep our conversation going.
"Oh definitely. He seems like a really good orator. He almost reminds me of a professor or something," she responds.
She doesn't add anything about today's message. Thank God. Of all the questions I could have asked her, I have no idea why I chose to ask her about that. I have no idea what today's sermon was about. I was far too distracted to pay attention. In my defense, he was wearing a white shirt, and he did smell unbelievably good.
My eyes quickly glance over at Trevor. He is sprawled out on a raft, floating in the water with his aviator sunglasses on. I sigh. He looks like an Abercrombie & Fitch model basking in the sun. That's Avery's Abercrombie model, Laila.
When I turn around to face Georgia again, I notice her half-squinted eyes are also fixed on Trevor. The corners of her lips are slightly turned up. I can't blame the girl for looking. He really is that hot.
"I know what you mean," I say in hopes to divert her attention, before Kyle rejoins us and catches her gawking at Trevor. "I think he may have even been a teacher at one time. I mean, before he went back to school to study theology. Do you think you will come back?" I ask curiously.
She finally blinks a few times, and shakes her head slightly as if she is coming back from a dream. It takes everything in me not to laugh. I cannot count on my hands the number of times that has happened to me, while gazing at Trevor Maddox.
"Well, it's definitely more traditional than what I'm used to. Kyle says I need to give it a little more time, in order to fully appreciate the rituals."
I really like how honest she is being. Most girls would just pretend to love it, in order to appease their boyfriends. I suppose that is why Kyle hasn't dated most girls, though. I can see why he is so taken with her. Georgia is special.
I roll my eyes. "Sounds like Kyle. He thinks everybody should like what he likes."
"It's not that I don't like it. I'm just not a hundred percent comfortable. I don't know any of the prayers," she adds. "Plus, Kyle is just a passionate person. He can't help but want to share his enthusiasm with the world. I love that about him," she says, while turning away from me, her cheeks turning a familiar shade of pink.
I smile. I’m totally impressed by how quickly she comes to Kyle's defense. It shows just how much she cares for him. I just hope the idiot doesn't screw things up with her.
My mom's laughter draws our attention to the deck, where she and Trevor's parents are finally making their way down the stairs. Georgia shifts in her seat while she carefully inspects her swimsuit cover-up.
"So, Georgia. Where do your parents live again?" I ask, purposely changing the subject. I don't want her to be subjected to my mom's inquiries about her faith and religion. No girl should have to go through that, especially not when she is first introduced to her boyfriend's parents.
"Oh, they live over in Beaumont Hills right outside of Westbrook. Do you know where that is?" she asks.
I shake my head.
"It is a very small town about twenty minutes away from here, off Highway B-100 and Millbrook."
"Oh, yeah. I think I know where that is. That's kind of a rural area, isn't it?" I ask, remembering visiting Allie's grandparents farm somewhere near there when we were little.
"The subdivision we live in isn't, but the surrounding areas are. It's a new development where they plan to expand by adding an elementary school, a grocery market, a park, and a couple of restaurants. The builders hope to make it a small community reminiscent of an old town, where local businesses are right there in the heart of the neighborhood, even close enough to walk to. There is a lot of land there. The development plans for expansion are already mapped out for the next couple of decades."
"Wow. It sounds really cool," I reply. I'm having a hard time imagining this lively little town in the heart of Farmville, but it definitely sounds interesting.
She laughs. "I really like it. I mean there are all of these canals with fountains and gorgeous tree-lined roads. It's a great place to walk Pepper, or to go for a run. Even the houses are ridiculously cute. They have that old-school Victorian look, with the wrap-around porches and huge balconies that run the length of the house. No two houses are allowed to be the same color next to each other. So, it's very colorful, bright, and cheery."
I laugh. "Oh, you mean it isn't like the khaki invasion down the street?" I ask sarcastically. She looks at me curiously. Clearly, Kyle has not told her about the row of khaki houses on Briar Crest Landing, which is the street adjacent to our court. I briefly describe it to her.
"Anyway, every single house is khaki except for maybe two. It doesn't get more boring or cookie cutter than that. It's too bad they didn't invoke something like that in our neighborhood indentures."
"I'm going to have to pay attention to this khaki invasion on my way out."
I smile, happy she chose to use our nickname. "Well, your neighborhood sounds pretty much . . . adorable."
"Yeah. It really is perfect, almost too perfect. I mean it sort of looks like the neighborhood could be from the set of The Stepford Wives or something." We both laugh before she continues. "It's not actually creepy like that, though. It's just very different from most places."
"I think I'd really like to run somewhere like that. I mean, not that I'm a runner. I'm not, but I was thinking about taking it up. It would be nice if we had a scenic place like that to run in," I say, rolling my eyes as images of our modern, cookie-cutter neighborhood, once again, flash through my mind.
Almost everything about our subdivision is expected, except for our house. I actually really like our big, cheerful, yellow house. It's refreshing and it stands out among the sea of khaki. Mom and Dad did not feel the pressure to conform based on resale. They built our house the way they wanted it.
"Well, I'd love a running buddy, if you ever feel like driving out of your way to go for a run," she offers.
"I might just take you up on that offer, Georgia. Thanks."
I have a feeling that I might be doing a whole lot of running in the near future. My eyes sneak another quick peek at Trevor. I'm definitely going to need to find a more healthy distraction.
I close my eyes, allowing the nausea to seep back into my stomach. All of a sudden, memories of Sam and our recent breakup come flooding back. I decide to take a quick breather and excuse myself. I need to take some more Tylenol. My dull headache is trying to creep back into my head.
Chapter Twenty-Six: Do You Really Want to Win Like That?
I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, holding two white, oblong pills in my left hand, and a warm bottle of water in my right hand. My eyes are focused on my nightstand, though. More specifically, they are fixed on the small white envelope that is glaring back at me. I'm not a hundred percent sure why I haven't read his letter yet. Sam seemed so anxious for me to read it this morning, and yet there it still is, sitting in the exact same place I left it yesterday.
I keep reminding myself that he wants me to read it. That must mean it isn't all bad, right? Even so, I don't believe it myself, and judging by the way my stomach is all torn up, my body must agree.
I drop the pills into my mouth and knock back the bottle. I allow the liquid to trickle down my throat, praying it will nudge those giant pills along. I don't know why, but it seems like the little tablets grow to be about five times their normal size once they are on my tongue. Even worse, it feels like my throat starts closing up at the same time, making it damned near impossible to fully swallow the stubborn things. It makes pill popping of any kind an ordeal for me. I guess Mom and Dad will never have to worry about me being one of those kids that becomes addicted to pain pills.
I pick up the sealed envelope and run m
y index finger over my name. What is it you want to say, Sam? Why am I so afraid to read this? A glimmer of hope prickles through me briefly, as I recall my earlier conversation with Trevor. He was wondering if the letter might be Sam's way of asking me to get back together with him. At the time, I had quickly dismissed the idea. However, the more I think about it, the more I wonder if Trevor wasn't right all along. What if Sam just wants to get back together? One thing is for certain. I'm never going to know for sure, until I read the letter.
"Laila, What are you doing up here, honey? Everyone is downstairs by the pool." My mom's warm voice startles me, causing me to drop the envelope.
As if it were in slow motion, my mother and I watch it bounce off the edge of my bed and fall onto the ground. I immediately reach for it in a panic, but my mom retrieves it before I can. She looks at it curiously, before handing it back to me. Her one eyebrow is doing its signature St. Louis Arch thing, which makes me squirm a little. Much to my relief, she doesn't ask me about it.
"Dad is barbecuing, and we're going to be ready to eat soon. I could use a little help making the salad and getting the bar set up outside."
I nod, still too unnerved to even speak. She smiles and kisses the top of my head like I'm five years old, before leaving. Why does my family still insist on treating me like a child?
My heart is racing, and I am clutching the envelope so tightly to my chest, it is starting to bend a little on the side where my fingers are. I try to smooth it out a little, before dropping it into my swim bag. I'll have to find some time later to sneak off and read it. I roll up a fresh towel and throw it, along with a magazine, into the bag, before making my way back downstairs.
The day slips by fairly quickly, despite the dismal blanket of doom that is hovering over me like a thick fog at sunrise. The only time it seems to dissipate is when Trevor and I are together. It's not that we can't be around each other. We just can't be left alone.