by Devin Sawyer
How Not To
by
Devin Sawyer
How Not To
Devin Sawyer © 2018
|All rights reserved|
All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law in the country of publication.
This book is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to people living or deceased, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental and not intended by the author to be construed as real.
Any trademarks, service marks, product names or names features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are only used for reference purposes. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
8 years later
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Dedication
To my husband and two dogs who let me neglect them during this process. Thanks for always taking fishing trips when I needed to write.
And also, to all the authors that made me believe this could be a reality. So much of this is for Tarryn Fisher, Jay McLean, Colleen Hoover, Alessandra Torre, Mary Elizabeth, BB Easton and so many more. To those who followed their own hearts to self-publishing and brought their followers along for the ride. Thanks for always posting about the process, and letting me learn from you, whether it be conferences, videos, or a Facebook post about the publishing process. Thank you for being great teachers. Because of you, my own dream has come to fruition.
Chapter 1
Ari
You know those people who have a way of predicting major life events? Fortune tellers, mediums, or maybe even just a Joe Schmo with a keen sense of intuition? Well, I don’t have that. This summer was going to body slam me into change worse than a Hulk Hogan wrestling match, because we all know WWE isn’t real, but my life is.
~
Only a few more moments until the bell rings to release me from my final class before summer. The others in my class are talking over each other excitedly about their summer plans. Vacations abroad, road trips in their newest luxury convertibles, tickets to concerts, shopping sprees. I would say it’s a complete mystery to me how I became friends with those indulging in the lifestyle of the rich and famous but it’s not. My dad does all the taxes for only the high class. I am considered the family of the help. Layton has divided its residents into two categories, the success stories, and those that maintain and manage the successful. Layton High is a combination of trust fund children and the children whose families are hired to help run their lives. We are a mutiny of sons and daughters of maids, maintenance men, career assistance, and secretaries. My family isn’t exactly hurting for money either, but we aren’t yacht club rich, I’m not doled out any special treatment over the summer the way half of my classmates are. We are what you would consider “new money” with my father being the first generation of our family to be successful, but he has to work to do that, he’s not building equity purely off investments and leisurely vacationing in the country. There are no long lines of ancestry passing down their fortunes, my dad’s a self-made man with a college degree that’s done him well. In fact, my parents want me saving money to pay my rent through college, so I’ll be working at my dad’s accounting office all summer.
Being stuck somewhere in the middle of the money spectrums means I haven’t felt accepted by either group in this school and I’ve been attending since Kindergarten. I’ve had a close friend here and there throughout the years, but they either can’t afford the area and lifestyle and end up leaving or they become a part of the elite social class and we only pass each other awkward glances in the hallways remembering times of what once was.
“Nice work.” Evan, who sits next to me, in my final art class gestures to my landscape painting.
I smile back, showing my appreciation. Evan has always been sweet. It’s almost as if he managed to escape the asshole gene that tends to take over boys’ bodies the second they hit puberty. I look over at his painting and it’s a fucking masterpiece. He could make beautiful works of art for a living if he wasn’t primed to live above the life of an artist. A mountain with snow caps, the snow and shadows are painted in a multitude of color that swirl together to give it a whimsical feeling. I’ve seen him throughout the semester effortlessly creating one A + grade after another. I swear getting stuck sitting next to him simply because we were set up alphabetically has made my grade worse. Of course, mine looks like a toddler’s finger painting next to his.
“Yours too,” I reply out of nicety.
Evan and I have gone to school together since we were five. Granted, in the last three years, he’s…transformed. He stretches in his seat pulling his arms over his head and I can’t help but notice the sinewy muscles evident on every part of his toned body. Puberty and all that mess I guess has a lot to do with it, and boy did it bless him in abundance. I guess I’ve changed too because ever since we got placed next to each other in this class, he’s made a special effort to talk to me every day. He’s not the worst I could do that’s for sure. He’s wealthy and good-looking and he appears to be one of the few guys who hasn’t let social caste systems cloud his relationships. Evan’s friends with everyone on the basketball team even if they are ‘the help,’ but I just have no interest in dating any of the guys in this small town. If this were the sixteenth century my parents would marry me off for his wealth in exchange for my dowry, but thankfully it’s not and Evan will grow up to have a wealthy career that has likely been pre-determined for him, marry a Texas pageant queen and spit out two point five children. Fuck the picket fence though, Evan will get a mansion. A house entirely too big for the people living in it. Apparently, no one has passed the message to Evan yet.
“Hey Ari, uh, I was hoping we could hang out this summer some.” He’s tense and awkward, and it hurts me to even watch. I sigh a resigned breath heavy with restraint.
“I don’t know, Evan. I’m supposed to work for my dad all summer and aren’t you like leaving the country or something?”
“Oh yeah, that’s just to Spain for a few weeks, when my mom is doing business there.” He seems unwearied by my brush off.
“Right, what does she do again?” I try to divert the conversation.
People like Evan and people like myself a
re not made for each other. His parents would never be cool with him dating down. He needs to marry into money or fame to expand his someday fortune.
“She’s in engineering. They have a big conference every year. It was Switzerland last year, Spain this year.”
I continue to nod my head.
“Anyway, I’ll be at my dad’s the first weekend of summer, but I really want to see you when I get back. I was hoping maybe the weekend I return we could go out. You could even invite Emily and I’ll have Lucas join us.”
That does make me feel a little more at ease. Evan would be a dream guy, I just don’t feel anything when I’m around him, but I don’t ever feel anything special around anyone so maybe I need to put myself out there.
“Yeah, alright, just text me when you get back.”
The bell finally rings, saving me from further involvement.
“Sweet, have a good summer.”
At that, I grab my bag and head for the door. Emily finds me in the hall. She’s one of the few socialites I can stand to be around for more than a few minutes. This is probably because she’s not constantly talking about Gucci bags and wasting her life away at Coachella. As if by default, she feels like the black sheep too. Emily was adopted when she was five by the Andersons before they realized they could and would have two brats, twins at that, for children. She seemed to be much like me, a bit introverted and other than the basics we didn’t know too much about each other, nor did we ask. They moved here last year and Em and I fell into an easy rhythm of comfortable friendship during a history project. We also tend to like the same TV shows. Which I guess isn’t hard when you are seventeen because most girls like the same crap on TV.
“Want to come over tonight and binge-watch Netflix?” she prompts casually.
“Did you just ask me to Netflix and chill with you?” I retort.
“Please, I’m strictly dickly, A, you know that by now.” She’s the only person that calls me A. To most people, I’m just Ari or Arianne.
“Can’t anyway. I start up at my dad’s office bright and early tomorrow, oh and by the way, I just signed you up for a double date. Evan somehow managed to talk me into it and by default, you’re coming. He’s bringing Lucas.”
“Holy balls of paradise. Lucas Silva? He’s smoking fucking hot. You’re the best friend ever. Wait, holy fuck when is this going to happen?”
And it’s hit her…she’s freaking out.
“I don’t know, in a week or two, whenever Evan and Lucas are both not traveling internationally at the same time, which automatically increases the odds of it never coming together. I just thought I’d warn you.”
I’m an introvert at heart, well, mostly I just don’t like people. Nonetheless, I always prefer to recharge alone, but with Emily, I’m more hopeful for something after we leave this rotten town next year. She has dreams of moving to California, San Francisco to be exact, and join the tech world. I’m not even sure what that means, it could totally be the online porn world, and to be honest, something about Emily is a little kinky so I’m better off not asking and sticking to my world of introverted aloofness.
“Enjoy your weekend with the twins. Why don’t you have girl time and gossip with Tara, you know, do a little bonding. I’m sure you guys will be besties by the end of summer if you ever actually tried.” I say this with sarcasm because I know that of the twins, she can stand Tara the least. Riley, by default of gender only, was easier to be around.
“Don’t you put that evil on me, Ricky Bobby. I could catch herpes just from hearing about her latest conquest.”
I roll my eyes at her dramatic storytelling. While Em may not reach out to many people, she’s dangerously funny if you can get her talking. As she’s walking off, I realize that she’s probably not all that far off from the truth. Tara has been dangerously flirting with herpes in her recent escapades with some of the guys at school, despite the fact that she was two years younger than us. I’m not sure if anyone ever told her this, but herpes is not to be flirted with, it’s not to even be touched with a ten-foot pole. And if that ten-foot pole does touch it, you don’t touch that ten-foot pole. Sex ED was not that difficult, but some people just never seem to grasp it, or again, don’t grasp it if it’s got herpes… those are simple rules.
At home, I have two loving parents, but for the most part, I’m left alone and have no siblings. Dad works a bunch and Mom is always helping where she can. Em has a whole house full of people. It’s never quiet there, which is why I’ve only been to her place a handful of times. I’m sure she will be over throughout the summer. It’s good for both of us. I get a little more socialization and she gets a quieter environment.
I bike home from school, because despite the fact that every kid at school has a car, even the underage freshmen, my parents have me biking until I can purchase my own vehicle. I have the money now to get a real junker, but I was hoping to make it to college without one where I could just live on campus where transportation isn’t even needed. Then I could pocket some of my money for those years.
When I get home, I get a jump start on the summer work for Dad’s office. My number one job in the down season is to keep everyone’s files organized. Scan and track all the information and make sure it’s up to date. Tax season is always a booming month, but summer is typically pretty slow. I’m starting to think this whole “It’s time you learn some responsibility” bit is going to make for a very boring summer.
Chapter 2
Torren
“Thank you, ma’am. Have a good day.” I say it with the fakest smile I can muster. The woman hands over her keys to me and I head toward her Mercedes to drive it into one of the open lanes. This town is full of rich assholes and I can’t take another minute of their superiority complex. Half the women in this town live for shopping trips to take their minds off their husbands making it rain on stripper’s tits every weekend. Higher class doesn’t always equal more class.
As quickly as I can, I change the woman’s oil using the best synthetic options we carry and return her the keys to check her out. The owner of Holdridge Brothers automotive is my brother, Gavin. He created the company with some money he saved up when he was twenty and our father supplied him with the cash still needed for startup costs. Dad’s not really got the money to spare either. In fact, we moved here a little over a year ago from Glennville, one town over, when he was offered a factory position by Mr. Anderson with slightly better pay. Gavin decided to move the shop so I could work in it doing basic auto maintenance, and it would give him some time to manage the finances. Gavin’s a great mechanic, but he’s never been too business savvy.
As if on cue, I walk into the back office and see Gavin sitting at the computer cursing at the screen. “For fuck’s sake,” he cries out. “Cut me a damn break.”
“Anything I can help with?” I ask.
“The damn books aren’t balancing.” He pauses to take a breath. “Are you sure you checked everyone out at the register that you serviced?” He doesn’t sound anymore controlled than before.
“Yeah, are you sure you know how to add?” I counter, kind of pissed he’s blaming this on me. Dude needs to get laid, or something. He’s a total fucking grouch lately. He’s always got all these Layton high society women fawning all over him, and I know a few times he’s ended up in bed with them. I personally don’t get it, I can’t stand the people in this town. So damn uppity. I tell myself that maybe he’s with them for their money, for the investment they might make in his business but even I hope Gavin is better than that. I hope he’s fucking them because they are hot, or hell, even nice or smart or funny, but even I know those are lies because the female upper socioeconomic class of Layton are neither nice nor funny, and they are only smart when they are manipulative. I don’t trust any of them and their money hungry hands.
“I’m heading out. See ya Monday.”
“You’re not coming to dinner tonight?”
Dad still insists that we get together for a weekly dinner. I
t’s something he’s done ever since Mom left when I was six, but truth be told I barely remember her ever being around much even back then. I have these glimpses of what I think are memories but sometimes I think they are things I’ve manifested in my own head based off pictures I’ve seen or stories I was told about her. Gavin was eleven. He remembers her a lot more than I do. Pops doesn’t talk about her much, and we don’t push. It’s got to be harder on him than anyone. He’s always taken care of us, and money was tight, but that’s how it was for everyone in Glennville, so I never really felt out of place. The whole town is filled with blue-collar folk trying to get by.
“No, Jeff just got back in town. I’m gonna go see him. I talked it over with Dad already.”
Gavin nods his head at me showing he understands. Jeff needs me more right now than they do. While Gavin has his own place, I’m still bunking with my dad. I graduated last year right before our move, and I don’t exactly have the money yet to move out on my own, but I’m saving for it. But tonight, I don’t head home. I hop into my old ’96 Ford Bronco and head for Glennville, where the people don’t seem to care how I’m dressed or how dirty my clothes are at the end of the day.
I grab a bite to eat at the taco casa on my way and text Jeff. Everyone is down at the river that runs behind his parents’ place. I don’t get to see the guy as much since we graduated and I moved. We both have our own jobs that keep us busy, but when he’s around we still hang out; we ran the school our last few years there. No matter what kind of trouble we got into it seemed we never got busted. Drove the teacher’s crazy because they were fed up with us, but they couldn’t exactly stand to lose their best football players. That’s how small Texas towns work. I miss those days because everyone knew who we were, and life was easy as it gets for small town poor folk when you’re being idolized for running a ball around a football field. I bet that’s how all those rich bastards feel in Layton with their fancy homes and cars, like it makes people care about them. All those compliments they get, I’m sure to their diluted minds it feels genuine.