Love Is An Action (What Love Is #1)

by Bry Foster

  “I am happy to see that my grandson has picked a fiancé that does in fact have a backbone, I am not thrilled that you come equipped with such an unnecessarily combative temper.” Her accent is so thick that I’m trailing behind in the conversation. When I catch on, I express my disbelief.

  “Me!” Liz looks like she wants to say something and Delano and Cash look ready to jump between us in case we go at it. Honestly, I’m not sure I can take the old bat so I stay in my seat. “You’re the one being unnecessarily combative!”

  “Ah bon?” She asserts indifferently, my mouth falls open. Jaque walks back in with a refilled tea tray and promptly leaves. I have no response. Cash takes my hand, warmth envelopes me and my gut takes off with butterflies. The feeling is brought on so suddenly that I almost jerk my hand away from him but then I remember we are supposed to be putting on a show. I give him a stilted smile. He gives me a boyish one back, one that crinkles the corners of his eyes a little and shows almost his entire top row of teeth. It’s so silly that I can’t help but relax and sit back as a chuckle escapes me.

  I take a deep breath and look over at Corisande and Delano as Cash says, “Mémée, I think it would be appropriate for Khloe to at the very least have input on her gowns. Compromising is the least we can do since we are demanding so much of her so soon.”

  I want to hug him.

  “Oui mère,” Delano says. “We owe her at least that much. Also, it will give you time to bond and get to know one another.” I was with him until the ‘get to know each other’ part. I feel like we know all we need to about each other. She’s crazy bossy, and I’m not ready to get married. I’m pretty sure we can both agree to those terms.

  After awhile Corisande softens a little and says, “Fine. Since I assume you won’t be able to get too much time off of school so late in the semester, Khloe, we will collect your measurements to have sent off then, we will fly out to New York as soon as possible to look at fabrics and have a fitting. A family friend has a boutique there.” New York? I’m somewhat thrilled but more terrified. Thrilled because who the heck doesn’t want to go to New York? But, being in a completely different state with a woman I’m sure would rather beat me to death with her tea cup than allow me to marry her grandson…terrified.

  “Can Cash go?” I ask, my voice strangled.

  She gives me an are-you-kidding-me look. “We will be making your wedding dress. Of course the groom cannot be present. Isn’t that a well-practiced American tradition as well?”

  “Yeah, but—“

  “Yes-“ she corrects.

  “Yes,” I correct myself then continue, “but, we are just getting measurements and things like that, surely he can be present for that?”

  “I get the impression that you do not want to come to New York with me.” She replies, obviously amused. New York isn’t the problem. I’m sure my thoughts are playing loud and clear across my forehead but, I don’t dare speak them.

  “How about Liz?” Cash comes to my rescue again, I could kiss him.

  “Huh?” Liz says obviously enjoying the show. I guess we are all going down.

  “It could be like a girls’ day.” Cash suggests. “You, Khloe, and Liz.” Cash explains to his grandmother. Liz gapes and I smile at her brightly.

  “That is a great idea.” I chime in. Corisande nods. It’s the most normal thing I’ve seen her do since we got here, the gesture almost makes her look human. Almost.

  “I suppose so. I will get your information from Cashel later and we will get the plans in motion.” She says with an air of dismissal. I sigh and shoot up off the couch. Thank you, dear, sweet, baby Jesus.

  “It was lovely meeting you.” Delano says as he stands, grasps my hands and kisses both of my cheeks. My cheeks heat. He probably says it more to be polite than anything else but still.

  “Of course, you too.” I say and look to Corisande who stands but makes no move to approach anyone. Cash goes to her and folds her into a hug. And then reaches for me, pulling me under his arm.

  “This will all work out wonderfully.” He says looking from Corisande to me. “Just wait and see.”

  “I won’t hold my breath.”

  “Stop with the muttering, girl.” Corisande reprimands. Don’t hurt the old lady, don’t hurt the old lady, don’t hurt the old lady. Becomes my mantra. I just hope she doesn’t hurt me either.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The weekend is almost over and I have heard no signs of life from my father, who has yet to return home. I dress and walk a few blocks to Freddy’s, the hole in the wall bar that my dad can usually be found at when he isn’t at work.

  I would probably have a better time finding him there even if he was supposed to be at work. No matter how much I try to desensitize myself from my father’s instability, I can’t just not worry about him. If he is gone for too long, I start to worry about if he is eating, where he is sleeping at night, and whether or not he has been going to work. It’s like I have a 40 year old kid, and it should annoy me, but I am so used to it that it is more out of habit than need now.

  Luckily winter is a look in the rearview mirrors of my car of life for now. The sun shines high in the beryl sky. It warms my legs peeking out from cut off shorts and my cheeks as I lift my face upwards, soaking in all the vitamin D that I missed during the colder months and will soon hate once it warms more. Louisiana is very hot and cold, like a Katy Perry song. There usually aren’t many days like this. In between days where the weather is nice without being glaringly hot or suffocatingly humid.

  When I get to Freddy’s I see Dawn. The owner’s son, standing out front smoking a cigarette with one of the patrons. Dawn is kind of short but stocky. I have seen him give a few people a run for their money when they get a little too wild. He has thick, dark sideburns, a scar traveling from his left temple to the corner of his mouth and a crooked nose from being broken too often. He smiles when he sees me. Usually he has some corny joke for me which I think may actually be his attempts at flirting which is pretty creepy even if I am eighteen.

  “Haven’t seen you around here in a while.” He says in his deep voice as I bound up to him, next to the door. The patron next to him is either a MC biker or stuck in the 80’s with all of the leather he is wearing. I feel him rake his gaze over me but I pay him as little attention as possible.

  “This is a bar Dawn. I’m not exactly of legal drinking age.” I playfully roll my eyes. He throws his head back and laughs a gruff laugh.

  “That right? Well, I guess I can’t be lettin’ ya into this here establishment.” He says gesturing behind him as if the rundown bar is the oasis in the desert. I playfully squint at him. The laughter dying from my chest as I ask the question we both know the answer to.

  I nod towards the doors of the bar. “He in there?”

  Dawn nods. “Usual spot.” I nod my thanks to him before walking in to the dimly lit bar. The bar is full of cracked leather booths with stuffing coming out of them, broken or limping chairs and scratched up wooden bar stools. I find my father under a flickering light at the end of the bar chatting up the bartender. She must be new because I have not seen her before. She has dirty blond hair twisted into a bun. Her black work shirt is knotted in the back to show her figure which, isn’t bad but, not something I would show off either. I head over to my dad and drag a barstool next to him. His smile turns angry when he sees that it’s me.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” He demands. I grimace.

  “I was worried about you. You haven’t been home in a few days.” I reply in a monotone voice. Before he can respond the bartender says.

  “I’m gonna need to see some ID, kid.” I turn to her with pinched eyebrows and irritation plainly written across my face.

  “I don’t have it.” I turn back to my father. “You need to come home. Have you even been to work?”

  “If you don’t have ID then you need to leave.” Her voice grates on my nerves. I turn to her getting more angry, less irritated.

 
“Look, if you have a problem with my being here, go talk to Dawn.” I hook a thumb in his direction and glare at her once more before turning to my father again. “Where have you been staying?”

  “Why are you askin’ all these questions? Not that it’s any of your business but, I been stayin’ with Pat.” He gestures his beer towards the haughty bartender that has been grinding my gears. Instead of looking at her I ask again about his job. He says he’s been going just fine and that he’ll stop by our place soon. “Yeah, alright.” I don’t believe him but there is not much that I can do. After trying and failing to convince him to come home now, I leave, telling him that I will be back if he doesn’t come home soon.

  I would like to say that the following couple of weeks go by as usual. But, they don’t. Things between Cash and I are awkward. Usually in the few classes we share, I find myself bickering with him. There is plenty of jokingly pushing each other or picking on each other. Now, I feel like I shouldn’t even touch him. I’m second guessing everything he says and does. Suddenly all of his jokes have a double meaning.

  Mrs. Doubty drones on about covalent bonds as I tap my pencil on my open workbook. I was so frazzled this morning that I forgot my science book at home. The science lab is set in pairs of bar stools surrounding pedestal styled tables with hard black tops that house the glassware we usually use. Mrs. Doubty instructs everyone to open their books or iPads to a certain page and use the small blocks and colorful balls to show the bonds made by atoms.

  I exhale harshly as I feel Cash set his gaze on me.

  “You forgot your book?” He asks. Slowly I turn to face him. His eyebrows are raised in surprise.

  I drop my pencil and start tapping my nails on the tabletop. “Yeah.” I start with a slight, nervous smile. “I guess I left the house in a hurry this morning.” Cash shrugs, a smile on his lips.

  “Luckily for you, I’m all about sharing.” He winks and sets his iPad so that it rests between us on the desk and then scoots his bar stool closer to me. I inhale heavily and hold the breath in my lungs. Don’t make this awkward, he’s still just Cash. No matter how many times I try to tell myself that, it doesn’t change the fact that I do not look at him the same way anymore.

  I have so many doubts. Things that used to be clear to me, I’m uncertain about now. Like, why he would want to be friends with me? Everyone at this school is wealthy—well, except other students here on grants. And if I let my grades slip my scholarship will fall through but I can’t imagine that anyone else is nearly as well off as Cash. He has seen where I live and we have kind of talked about my less than perfect family life, yet I have never felt Cash look at me differently. He has never treated me badly or made jokes about my situation, even if I do. What does all of that mean?

  Cash is so close to me that it becomes harder to think about anything other than the fact that he isn’t quite close enough. My fingers start to tremble a little at his proximity and I quickly shove my thumbnail into my mouth and chew on it.

  “Ready?” Cash asks me. His eyes bounce back and forth from my mouth to my eyes. I nod and pick up my pencil with the opposite hand and continue to chew on my nail while Cash drags the box full of colorful molecules towards us.

  “Nervous?” He asks me.

  “Nervous? Why would I be nervous?” Instead of answering Cash nods at my mouth.

  “You always chew your fingernails when you're nervous or uncomfortable. You’ve done it since I first met you.” He shrugs and I feel my cheeks heat. Now I’m getting irritated. Cash always states the obvious and then makes me feel like a complete idiot for it. “What I am trying to figure out is why you would be nervous around me of all people.” Of all people. Like the bomb he dropped on me the other week was not of colossal magnitude.

  “I’m not nervous, Cash.” I lamely defend but he looks in to my eyes. As if they are telling him everything he needs to know. My irritation flares higher.

  “Yes you are. Is this about my family? I told you not to take it too seriously.”

  “It’s hard not to take serious Cash, this is all very sobering and a little cumbersome.” Elliot Garrison and Janet Badman turn around from the table in front of us and I realize that we are getting a little loud. Cash scoots even closer to me, which makes me want to melt and physically assault him at the same time. My breath hitches and when I look over at him, I see that his lips have kicked up. Clearly, he is satisfied that he’s getting me worked up. I narrow my eyes at him.

  “Scoot over.”

  “No. I don’t want anyone to overhear our conversation.” Before I can open my mouth and threaten him, he continues, “Nothing has changed Khloe. We are still the same two people.” No we aren’t. I want to say but Mrs. Doubty has begun walking up and down the aisles to check on the progress each table is making so I shake my head.

  “Let’s just get this assignment over with.” I tell him. Cash agrees but, he never moves away from me. By the time we leave, most of the nails on my right hand are chewed and jagged. Great, now I’ll have to spend all night trying to file them down.

  “Am I going to see you at lunch?” He asks me as we stand in front of my locker.

  “Sure.” I say uneasily as I turn to face him. The halls are crowded yet I can still feel everyone’s eyes pinned on us. Am I supposed to touch him or something? To put our relationship status out there? Before I can think too much about it, Cash dips down and his lips brush mine.

  The kiss is soft, barely there, just a tease of what it could be. But I light up. Static sparks off of our lips and I almost jump back to get away from the foreign feeling. But as soon as the thought enters my mind, Cash’s lips are gone. He stares down at me with wide green orbs and I try to keep my chest from feeling like it’s going to cave in. It’s not until he walks off that I realize how many people are just as shocked by that kiss as I am and knowing how the rumor mill runs around here, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had an unexpected run in with the Malicious Marley later.

  After fourth period is over I head into the bathroom to use it before meeting Liz and Cash for lunch.

  I’m drying my hands when the bathroom door opens roughly, slamming against the tiled wall. I hear commotion of students walking around in the hallway before it goes quiet again, only the sound of high heeled footsteps against the tile floor. Marley Evans and her minions, Stephanie Johnson and Lea Daniels come around the corner. I look up at them in the mirror.

  Three unattractive grimaces greet me. Slowly turning towards them, I wipe my wet hands on my skirt. Classy, I know.

  “How can I help you today?” I ask and Marley steps closer to me, arms crossed over her chest, hair pulled back into a ponytail.

  A dry laugh leaves her throat as she invades my personal space. I start opening my mouth when she says, “If you think that you can have Cash, you’re wrong.” I’m so shocked that I forget the rude retort I had on my tongue for her.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, Penny. Cash doesn’t want a rude, loud mouthed, poor little street walker who can’t even afford a designer backpack.”

  “Streetwalker?!” I scrabble for insults inside my head yet they don’t come. I’m still trying to figure out what in the world is happening here.

  “Need I repeat everything to you?” Her friends cackle behind her like crows.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was slow on top of being fashion backward.” Lea says.

  Scoffing at her attempt at an insult I focus back on the ring leader here. “Marley, honey. If anyone is a street walker, it’s the girl who hikes her skirt up to indecent levels, leaves her shirt unbuttoned so that she can get out of doing PE and bends over and shows her thong to the entire lunch room. In case you aren’t sure who I’m talking about, that’s you.” I tell her in a deathly calm voice as I step closer to her. No more than a few inches separate my face from hers.

  She scoffs. “If I were you I’d be jealous of me too. I mean, you have that whole, frizzy haired, flat chested thing going for you.
Please don’t take your insecurities out on me-” She says with false sincerity.

  “-Oh, insecurities?” I interrupt her. “That’s a big word for you.”

  “You know what else is big?” Her eyes glint as they narrow a little. Eyes of a cat watching a mouse. She smiles at me and my smile slips off of my face.

  “Don’t.”

  “Oh, touchy Penny. I thought you’d want to know just how…big… Cash is.” Bile starts to rise in my throat. My heart clenches painfully in my chest and the only thing keeping me from keeling over is sheer will. “He’s the best I’ve ever had, that’s for sure.”

  “You and the rest of Warren Academy. Shut it, Evans.” I should say something about the list she has but I can’t think past the raging jealousy flowing through my veins. How could Cash like someone like her? How can he stand being in her presence?

  “I mean,” Marley puts a hand to her chest. “Oh my God he’s so yummy. All those muscles and all that thick hair. I love wrapping my fingers in it as we…”

  “I said shut up! I don’t care about what the two of you do or did. I don’t want Cash okay? You can have him!” My chest hurts so bad, it’s on fire. My heart is bleeding and feeding the flames. I think smoke may come out of my mouth if she keeps talking.

  “I don’t need your permission to have him, tramp. I will have him again and again. And then I’ll send him back to you smelling like Chanel number 5.” She steps so close that our chests are touching and she leans into my face, taller than me since she is in heels and I’m not. Her lip pulls back like a snarling dog. “Just remember that every time he touches you, he’s already touched me. Every time he kisses you, he’s already kissed me. Any time he is in your undeserving, bottom feeding presence, it is because I let him! You get me bitch?” She shouts in my face and I want to slap her. I want to rip her throat out like a rabid wolf. Yet, I know that rich kids don’t fight with their hands.