Undeveloped (Life Unfiltered Book 1)

by K Leigh

“She is,” I agree, clenching my teeth.

  Her phone vibrates in the cupholder—mine’s on silent—and I could swear Kate’s hand twitches on the steering wheel. I can’t help but laugh at her internal struggle.

  Being the great friend that I am, I grab her phone and read the text to her.

  “Missing you already,” I draw out as if I’m eight and not eighteen. “Can’t wait for round two. Wait! You were late because you were messin’ around with Seth?”

  “Technically, I was late because I had to shower after.” Kate shrugs, flipping on her turn signal right as she turns onto the main road. I don’t think she realizes you’re supposed to do that before you turn.

  “Well, I hope you’ve been taking your birth control, because I’m not ready to throw you a baby shower too,” I warn her, closing my eyes as she cuts off a pickup truck.

  Tired of my lecturing, Kate switches on the radio and I spend the remainder of the car ride with my eyes closed, oblivious to any disasters we manage to avoid on the road.

  “We’re here.” Kate nudges me, and I realize I dozed off for a moment.

  The church sign comes into view. Adorned with pink and purple balloons, the lettering has been changed from last week’s bible verse to ‘Congratulations Teddy & Violet’.

  “All right, all right,” I say excitedly. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Thank you for coming!” Violet’s round face lights up the room as she bids her guests goodbye, my mom standing next to her to shake hands as everyone leaves.

  “It was a beautiful shower, Mellie. Simple, yet elegant,” Hazel says, the approval clear in her voice.

  The ladies of the church, people my brother refers to as old hens, love to critique a party. Baby shower, wedding, revival; whatever the occasion, they always have unsolicited opinions.

  Unless you’re the preacher's wife. In that case, you’re safe from facing their criticism. Instead, they’ll just say it behind your back.

  My mama returns their smiles, her kind eyes sharing genuine warmth despite the vultures in front of her. No doubt they’ll be gossiping in the parking lot about what they disapproved of.

  As I begin packing up Violet’s presents, Kate whispers in my ear that she’s going to the restroom.

  When the last of the guests have gone, Mama and I begin to clean up. Having grown up as the preacher’s daughter, it’s just second nature to dive right into the cleaning. Even when we attend parties at the church that we don’t host, we stay behind and help.

  When I was little and whined to her about having to help, she told me, “It’s just good manners, Natalie. We are the face of the church. What we do—or don’t do—is always up for speculation.

  “Mellie, I wish you’d let me help you.” My sister-in-law’s hands are attached to her baby bump as she slouches in the folding chair. She stretches her legs out, her swollen ankles on full display. “I wish I could help you.”

  “You okay, Vi?” Mom rushes to her side. “I don’t like the look of these ankles. Too much fluid.” She glances over at me, her face visibly relaxing. “How about you get Kate to take Violet home while we finish the cleanup? She’s partied too hard today.”

  “Only if you want your granddaughter to be born today,” I joke. “Kate will make sure of it.”

  Speaking of Kate, she still hasn’t returned from the restroom yet. Looks like I’m going to have to go collect her soon. I’m sure she’ll be nose-deep in her phone.

  Violet and my mom exchange knowing glances. My sister-in-law nods. “Call Teddy, Mama. He can help load the gifts up to take home.”

  When my mom grabs her phone to call my brother, I decide it’s safe enough to pull out my own and check my texts. My family has strict cell phone rules, and even as a legal adult, I won’t defy my mother’s wishes. The habit has been ingrained in us, along with always being on time, saying our blessings before we eat, and greeting all the elders at our church.

  Natalie: WHERE ARE YOU?!

  My phone vibrates as soon as my message sends, but to my disappointment, instead of my flighty best friend, it’s my boyfriend.

  Connor and I have been dating about six months now. His family attends our church, his dad is a deacon, and our moms are on the PTA together, so it’s safe to say they were all tickled when he gave me a promise ring at graduation.

  Yes, a promise ring. At eighteen years old, and after only half a year together.

  I care for Connor quite a bit, but like most things in Branch Key, he’s starting to feel like another check on a to-do list. Make good grades and graduate high school. Go to church every Sunday. Marry someone my family approves of. Check, check, and nearly check. We aren’t technically engaged, but I’ve overheard our mothers giggling over wedding plans numerous times.

  Conner: Can’t wait to see you tonight. Love you.

  Natalie: Me neither. Love you too.

  The dreaded “L” word. The first time Connor said it to me, just a few weeks into our relationship, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. But when he said it as he slipped his promise ring on my finger—our families snapping photos of the spectacle—my response felt like a script I was following.

  My phone buzzes again, and I’m grateful to see that Kate has finally responded.

  Kate: I’ll be back in a minute. On the phone.

  Natalie: Hurry, please. I need time to get ready for my date!

  Kate: ;) ;) ;)

  Natalie: Shut up.

  “All right, your brother is coming to get Vi.” Mama grabs the disposable forks and plates from the counter and begins walking them toward the trash cans on the other side of the room. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up so you can get ready for your evening!”

  “Make sure you’re careful, Nat,” Violet says in a low growl. “This is the most miserable I’ve ever been in my life.”

  “Vi, you know I’m waiting ‘til Connor and I get married.” When I glance down to hide my blushing cheeks, my promise ring glints in the light. I’ve continually told Connor I want to wait until marriage to have sex for the first time, but it’s only a half-truth. I wouldn’t mind getting close to someone, I just can’t imagine it being him.

  “Teddy and I had planned to wait too, but things happen.” Violet slips her feet into her flip-flops. She catches my warning glare and her mouth forms into an “O”. Luckily, Mama didn’t hear her over the rustling of the trash bag.

  3

  Lia

  “Lia! Have you found those lights yet?” Natalie’s voice startles me from her book of memories, and I barely catch myself before falling out of my reading nook. Natalie’s words are still running through my head as she described talking with my mom and my honorary aunt, Kate. And with the grandmother I'm partially named after, but don’t remember.

  An unexplainable hunger courses through me, a craving for more of these moments. More of her memories. I don’t want to stop reading, but I have to focus on the tasks around the farm for now.

  “I’m coming!” I call back, hopping down from my perch. At this angle, I’m able to spot the correct tote without any issues. If it’d been a snake, it would’ve bit me.

  But maybe it was fate for me to find the journal. At least that’s what I tell myself as I try to push the guilt away.

  My skin crawls at the thought of continuing to invade Aunt Natalie’s private thoughts, but what does she really have to hide, anyway? I’ve known her my whole life. She could have even been saving the journal to pass on to me, since she has no children of her own.

  After a quick back and forth with my conscience, I tuck the journal under my arm and grab the tote of lights before navigating down the steep stairs. I can’t take it with me, though; she’d spot it right away. So, I duck into my room and stash it under my pillow before hurrying down to help my aunt finish setting up. I doubt I’m going to be much help now. My body will be down there untangling lights, but my mind will be seventeen years in the past.

  Leo’s boisterous laugh greets me befor
e I hit the first floor. His admiration of my aunt is painfully obvious, yet she seems to have no clue of his affections, despite all of us teasing her about it. Every time he comes out to do whatever task she dreams up—like our new loft—he stops at the country store up the road to bring her a gift. Honey, fresh fruit, cinnamon-glazed cashews. Sometimes apple butter, which is my personal favorite.

  When I walk in the room, Leo’s leaning against the counter, his toolbox by his feet, as he watches Natalie move around the kitchen.

  “Lunch time already?” I note the frying pan on the stove as Natalie bangs the spoonful of butter on the side. It hits the hot skillet with a sizzle, and she swirls it around with a flourish.

  “Leo brought you some apple butter. The least I can do is make him a grilled cheese.” Natalie nods toward the chair opposite her. “Have a seat. I’m making plenty in case your mom and dad come home for lunch.”

  No doubt she’s really making the extra so she can send those home with Leo. His mama is in an assisted living home and he stops by to see her on his way home from work. Natalie knows how much she loves cold grilled cheese, which is one thing I can’t get behind.

  As I take my seat, I nearly drool at the stack of perfect sandwiches already at the table. The brilliant red rose by Natalie’s plate catches my attention, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Leo came with more than apple butter.

  When I look up, Natalie catches my eye before looking away quickly, her cheeks turning a slight pink. I don’t even try to keep my cheesy grin to myself. She flips the last sandwich onto a plate and sets it in front of the guest chair.

  “Wash your hands, Leo, and we’ll eat,” she says with a genuine smile.

  I watch Natalie critically as she takes a seat and he turns away. She focuses solely on the sandwich in front of her. No longing gaze as Leo turns his back to us. No lingering look at his backside as he pumps the soap at the sink before washing his hands.

  “Maybe my aunt is a nun?” I think with humor. Come to think of it, I don’t think she’s ever been in a relationship. I can't even remember her ever going on a date. While my thoughts spin, Leo joins us, and we all dig in.

  “Perfectly golden and cheese in every bite,” Leo says around a mouthful of food. “How do you do it?”

  “A ton of practice involving many burnt sandwiches.” Natalie sips her milk, winking at me over the glass. “So, you sure you’re up for another Winegar project?”

  Leo grabs a napkin from the dispenser, smiling as he wipes his mouth. “Ain’t I always?”

  Later that night, Natalie perches on the end of my bed. Her hair is ruffled, and underneath her eyes is dark, as if she hasn’t been sleeping well. “We have three family sessions tomorrow,” she tells me.

  “Business is booming.” Leaning back in my desk chair, I point to my wall calendar, and flash her a grin. “Starting at ten.”

  Now would be a great time to bring up the journal, and I want to. But I’m not quite ready to say goodbye to it if she doesn’t want me to have it.

  “Oh, and Leo’s coming at eight to finish up the loft,” she adds, shifting herself into a more comfortable position. She resumes swiping through the pictures she took on her phone today, oblivious to my dilemma.

  “Cool.” Part of me wants to ask Natalie if she knows Leo likes her, and if she feels the same way about him. It’s silly for me to be hesitant because she’s my best friend. But another part of me thinks about the journal, making me wonder how close we really are if I’ve never even heard of my aunt talking about her memories of summer camp.

  As she pushes herself off my bed, I decide there’s no time like the present. Taking a deep breath, I say, “Hey, Natalie?”

  “Yes?” she replies, glancing up from her phone.

  “You know Leo likes you, right?” Blunt is the best approach with Natalie. She doesn’t like anyone bullshitting her. Tapping my fingers on my desk, I watch her face morph from curiosity to amusement.

  “I know, Lia. Your parents have always made me painfully aware of that fact.” Her lips curve into a smile, higher on one side than the other, but the way she words her response surprises me. As if it’s a chore to deal with his affection.

  “You don’t like him?”

  “I like Leo just fine. He’s a great guy,” Natalie says. “But I only think of him as a friend. I’m not looking for anything romantic right now.”

  “Why not?” I sigh. Natalie isn’t giving me any answers. If anything, she’s making me want to ask more questions. Isn’t she lonely? Doesn’t everyone need someone? “Don’t you get tired of us?”

  I can’t help but smile at her burst of laughter.

  “I could never get tired of you or your mom,” she teases. “I was tired of your dad years ago, I’m just stuck with him.” She makes her way to the door. “Now, you get some sleep. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Night, Nat.”

  My door clicks shut behind her and the fact that she changed the subject and ran away isn’t lost on me. Listening closely, I wait for the sound of her own door locking from across the hall before digging underneath my pillow for the journal and pulling out the picture of her and the mystery guy. It proves that at one time, Natalie did look for romance. So, what happened to him?

  Natalie

  Past

  My date with Connor didn’t go as planned…

  “C’mon, Nat,” Connor whines in my ear. The stale smell of beer on his breath turns my stomach as he buries his face in my neck. “I’ll be gone for weeks, and we’ll get married when I get back. Waiting won’t make a difference.”

  Moving my head away from his nuzzling, I pull his fingers from my shirt. “Connor, I’ve told you I want to wait. It means a lot to me.” Repeating the same mantra I’ve echoed since I first learned about the birds and the bees makes my head ache. It might be a lie, but it’s a valid reason to him.

  There have been times it was tempting to give in, especially when we were making out on his bed or in his truck. Or in the swimming pool. His swimming trunks left little to the imagination when he’d pull me onto his lap, nothing but water and the thin material between us.

  It just never felt right.

  And lately, our imminent separation seems to be taking precedence over his respect for my wishes. A few times now, he’s been more persistent, but that happens when he’s had one too many of the beers his fake ID manages to get him at the rundown gas station on the rougher side of town. The gas station that’s coincidentally located down the street from the hook up spot we’re currently parked at.

  Branch Key doesn't have much to offer in the way of scenic views, but all the teens make use of what’s around. The swimming hole is the perfect place to park if you have nowhere else to go to fool around, and the best time to go is at sunset. If you watch the colors blend over the horizon of the mountains, the peaceful swimming hole rippling in the evening air, you’d consider it a secret piece of heaven. When night falls, some find another type of heaven.

  “Why? No one will know. Half the girls at school have already given it up in this parking lot in the back of a truck.” His high-pitched drunken laughter pierces my eardrums, echoing over the swimming hole.

  “I’m not most girls.” Elbowing him off me, I scoot closer to the door.

  He squeaks across the leather seats, his breath invading my senses as his mouth pushes against mine in a slobbery kiss. “C’mon, Natalie. You’re driving me crazy.”

  His roaming hands grab at my dress, his stale saliva sliding down my chin as his breathing becomes more rapid. I feel like I can’t breathe and remind myself to inhale as he pulls up my skirt. I wish I had worn pants.

  “Connor, I said stop. Please.” I push at his hands, but I’m weak compared to him. He grabs my wrists in one hand and gropes between my legs with the other as his mouth sucks at my neck.

  Something in me clicks. I’m not doing this. He’s not going to take what’s not his. My knee shoots up, knocking him in the side of his head. He flies bac
kward, eyes glazed, and releases my hands in the process.

  I grab my purse from his dirty floorboard. Before this summer, Connor spent his weekends and summers working on cars at the local garage, and his truck bears the signs of his effort. After yanking the door handle open, I jump out of his truck, steadying myself against the door.

  Connor attempts to focus on me, his eyes bleary and eyebrows furrowed. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  “I’m going home,” I say, pulling my strap tighter on my shoulder. “I’ll call you in the morning and I’ll be there to see you off.” He’s leaving for football camp, and I can’t say I’m not a bit relieved to get a break.

  “No, you won’t.” Connor shakes his head, his lips tightening into a firm line.

  “Yes, I will. I swear. I’ll meet you before you leave.” My voice shakes as I make the promise, but part of me wants to tell him to go to hell.

  “I don’t want you to!” he yells, his outburst making me jump. His eyes flash angrily in the moonlight. “If you can’t be with me now, when I’m getting ready to leave for six weeks, then you don’t get to be with me at all.”

  The anger splashing across his face turns to hurt, but his words slice through me all the same. No matter the fondness I have for Connor, I won’t do something I’m not ready for.

  “Fine,” I reply after a pause, attempting to hide the quiver in my voice.

  The struggle to slide the ring off my finger reminds me that we never had it sized. That he didn’t know my size in the first place. It doesn’t matter now. A ringing noise pierces my ears as I throw the ring toward his truck, pinging against the footstep and landing amongst the gravel. He leans out of the passenger side, searching the ground. I’m not even sure he can see straight. “Seriously? I saved for months to buy that ring, Natalie.”

  Ignoring him, I dig in my purse for my new phone. My gratefulness for my parents finally giving in and buying me a phone is quickly replaced by displeasure when I discover that the battery is dead.