My Life as an Album (Books 1-4): A small town, southern fiction series

by LJ Evans

  Wynn came to help me get ready and to try to cheer me up. She looked beautiful in a purple dress that was perfectly girly and gorgeous and didn’t make her look too pale or too red. She’d had a boyfriend all year named Zack who was coming to keep her company tonight. He was a tall, thin cowboy who preferred the rodeo to the football field, but was a kicker on the middle school team anyway. All Southern boys needed to be involved in football in some way, otherwise they didn’t exist in Tennessee.

  I was sure I was going to be your typical wallflower because, even though I could dance, it really wasn’t my thing and Wynn had Zack and you had Brittney. I guess it was a good thing there were MoonPies because I could sit in a corner and stuff my face till the midnight blue dress didn’t fit anymore.

  Just as I was letting this depressing thought register fully into my brain, Wynn came into my room bubbling with enough excitement to fill a glass of champagne.

  “Did you hear?” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief.

  My oblivious look said it all, so she continued.

  “It’s all over that Brittney and Jake broke up.”

  “Not funny.”

  “I would never tease you about Jake. She’s been bitchy and griping to everyone that she’s still coming tonight because anyone who’s anyone will be here, but that she’s really not looking forward to it.”

  “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!” I said, too surprised to really think of anything better. As I let the idea settle in on me, my insides were flipping over like I’d already eaten too many pies.

  And in this state of reverie, I let Wynn do me up. I even let her pull my dark hair into this sort of half updo with curls. And I hate curls. With a deadly passion. Almost as much as P-I-N-K. But when I looked in the mirror, I knew she’d done a good job. I looked…well…girly. And somehow, in this dress, my boobs looked bigger than the nubs they were.

  When we hit the kitchen, my daddy stopped dead in his tracks with the barbecue tongs in his hands. “Andrea!” he called in a panicked voice.

  My mama came up behind him, “What?”

  And then she saw us too. She whistled. My mama did. It was hilarious to hear her wolf whistle like a construction worker.

  “That’s not funny, Andrea,” my daddy said.

  “Our little girl is growing up, Carter. You can’t stop it. Just roll with the punches, sir.”

  She slapped him on the rear end with her kitchen towel and went back to work. Daddy’s eyes got all squinty, and he pushed a hand to his head.

  “I think I need a beer,” was all he managed out before he led us out into the backyard.

  The yard was already flooded with people. Wade and Blake were there with their girlfriends on their arms, and half the sophomore class was there for you. The seventh-grade crowd was a little smaller, just because I was a little prickly and not everyone liked the tomboy with the quick tongue.

  Blake smiled big in his puppy-like way when he saw me and started over, but got sidetracked as the band started unloading their equipment. Blake still liked to think of himself as a budding musician. He wasn’t bad. But he was no Jason Aldean.

  Zack made his way through the crowd to tell Wynn how fantastic she looked and then was off again to fetch us some sweet tea. Wynn was going to make the perfect Southern wife someday. She knew exactly how to order her man around.

  That’s when I spotted you. You came out your back door and stopped to take in the whole shindig. You looked handsome as hell in tight jeans and a button-down that accented every single one of your muscles and made your eyes so green that I could catch the emerald from the other side of the yard. My heart banged so hard against my chest that I thought it would leap out of my mouth.

  You saw me, too, and your smile reached your eyes. I swear those emeralds sparkled across the grass more than the fairy lights did. You were almost to me when Brittney intercepted. She was dressed in a black dress with red accents that barely left a smile between her and the Lord… or Satan. That night, her dress just seemed like the perfect echo of her fiery self.

  You and she exchanged words. I don’t know what they were, but then you went off with her into your house. I looked at Wynn and her smile faded. She’d seen too.

  “It’s okay. It is what it is, right?” I said with a shrug, but inside, my nonexistent pile of MoonPies turned to a solid mass.

  Blake finally made it over to me, and he picked me up and swung me around like a doll. “Well look at you, Super Girl, finally playing in the big leagues,” he said with warmth. He was the first boy to tell me that I looked nice that really mattered at all. I mean, he’d been in my life almost as long as you had, so it went a long way to picking up my scattered ego.

  Blake’s girlfriend, Kathy, was the nicest thing on earth. She didn’t get jealous or catty, she just came up and hugged me and agreed with Blake about how nice I looked. Probably because she was secure in Blake’s affections. And she wasn’t threatened by me at all, probably because being five years older than me was more than enough distance for her. Probably because she knew I only had eyes for one boy.

  The crowd seemed to thicken as more people showed up. Plenty of people followed Kathy and Blake’s lead, and I was paid a lot of compliments that I wasn’t quite sure how to handle.

  Our parents dished out so much food that it could have fed an entire posse. We ate, drank sweet tea, and laughed. When you did come back shortly before dinner, Brittney followed, but she didn’t look happy, and she didn’t stay by your side which should have made me happy, but somehow did nothing to the solid feeling in my gut.

  The band started up and between Wynn and Zack, and Blake and Kathy, I was never left alone. Not, at least, until after everyone had sung “Happy Birthday,” and the cake had been served. It was when I had broken away to go get more tea and catch my breath that Brittney found me. She placed a hand on my arm, and I looked down at it debating whether I wanted to slam it back into her face or whether I’d play nice, as you and my mama would want me to do.

  “Jake obviously didn’t truly love me, but all I can say is Lord help whoever he really falls in love with because you’ll always be there biting at her heels like the little bitch you are, ruining his life like a rotten fish ruins an icebox.”

  Blake came up from behind us. I guess he’d heard it all, or at least enough. He took one look at my face as I teetered between enough anger to put her under and enough heartache to do me in, and he swept in like the knight that you normally were.

  “I think it’s time for you to hit the road, Brit.”

  “You can’t tell me to leave,” she said, tossing her beautiful, silky hair.

  “You’re right, but Jake can, and I’m sure if I let him know what’s going on, he’ll be the first to show you the door.”

  She turned as red as her sleeves, but she just marched out of the yard and off into the night.

  “You okay, Super Girl?” Blake asked.

  I nodded, but the night had lost the limited shine it had for me. I made an excuse of hitting the bathroom, and Blake, thankfully, seemed to understand and turned back to the crowd. Instead of heading into the house, though, I moved toward the back of the yard to our tree house. I removed my sparkly shoes, left them on the ground, and climbed up into our hideaway.

  I lay down and stared at the stars peeking through the branches and the “skylight” we’d added years ago. The music below was happy and the laughing was smooth, but it had started to die down as people began to say their goodbyes in the polite, Southern way that they always do. My mama would be mad as heck that I hadn’t stayed to say goodnight and thank all the good people for coming to my party. But I didn’t care. Mama was usually mad at me for something.

  The cold air worked its way into my skin and bones without the heat lamps nearby to keep the winter at bay. But it kind of felt like my heart. Cold. Waiting to be woken back up.

  Once the yard had dwindled to just a handful, I heard the tree creak as
feet hit the ladder, and I didn’t have to look up to know that you had joined me. You stretched out right next to me, the length of your body pressed against my side. The warmth of you fighting against the cold that surrounded me.

  After a while, you said, “Sorry about Brittney.”

  I had known all along that Blake would tell you what went down, but I thought maybe I’d be spared it tonight.

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  “God, she required a lot of energy.” And with that comment, I knew you were broken up for sure. Even though I should have been celebrating, I wasn’t. I knew there was still that long line of girls waiting in Brittney’s wake, and that I was still only a seventh grader.

  “Why are girls like that?” he asked, truly bewildered.

  I pushed my shoulder against his.

  “Not all of us are.”

  He laughed like I’d told a brilliant joke.

  “You require a lot of energy too. But maybe I’m just used to it. It doesn’t bother me as much.”

  I couldn’t help but smile to myself at that. You knew me. You knew me just like I knew you. That’s why it didn’t seem like work or energy. Even when we were mad at each other.

  You placed a little package on my stomach. “Happy Birthday, Cami.”

  And my heart beat faster at your words and the Cami than at the present on my tummy. “You too, butthead,” I said, but it made you laugh, which is what I had wanted.

  I didn’t make a move to open the gift, so you shoved your shoulder into mine. “Open it.”

  I reluctantly sat up, feeling the warmth of you drift away from me, and picked open the pretty little package which looked a lot like the polka-dotted underwear I’d been wearing earlier in the week when you’d thrown me over your shoulder. I truly hoped you hadn’t seen them, and that it was just a coincidence.

  It was a jewelry box, and no, I didn’t get all girly and expect it to be a ring professing your undying love or anything. I mean, I was thirteen, and we weren’t living in Shakespearean times. But when I opened it, I fell in love with you all over again. It was a necklace. A broken heart held together by wings. Beautiful and delicate. It made me think of the time in that same tree house that I’d told you that you were breaking my heart. You’d heard me. I knew you had, but this was your way of telling me that I had wings to fly above it all.

  Okay, maybe I read way too much into it and did act a little girly. Maybe you just liked the necklace. Maybe your mama or Mia had picked it out. Regardless, it meant a lot to me. I think you knew that. I want to think that you’d bought that necklace as a peace offering for repeatedly breaking my heart.

  You took the necklace from my hand and placed it around my neck. And no, you didn’t kiss my neck or remark on the beauty of its slenderness. But at that moment, I didn’t need that. I just needed you. I just needed to know we were still friends. That you’d still be there for me. And you were.

  White Horse

  “I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale…

  This ain't Hollywood, this is a small town.”

  - Swift & Rose

  I love this country song. Because it’s really about a hope that you have, that you’ve always had, that you have to let go of. It’s about knowing that the thing you were dreaming about could never really be. There were many years, while I was pining away for you at the same time I was running to keep up with you, that I thought that there could be an “us.” That it could work. That somehow the Disney-like magic would make its way into our lives. And then…then, there were a few years in there when I knew I’d never be a Disney princess. Not only was I definitely not typical princess material, but you weren’t looking to be my knight in shining armor. You were really looking the complete opposite way.

  I think it got a little easier for me once I accepted that you were out of reach. You weren’t going to be my happy ending. Not while I was still in middle school anyway. I wanted to believe that, once I was in high school, things would change. I mean, lots of seniors went out with freshman girls, right?

  But that January that you broke up with Brittney, I knew you’d have a new girl on your arm by the end of the month. At the latest, by the Girl’s Choice Dance in February for Valentine’s Day. And I was right. I almost felt bad for Brittney when it ended up being Amber. I mean, Amber had been the one she’d fought with you over the most. So, I guess Brittney had been right in a way.

  Brittney didn’t lose any time herself, though. She found a new boyfriend who was also a friend of Wade and Blake’s. The thing that made me laugh was that when we were all out on the street throwing the football around (well, I was coaching from the sides), Wade and Blake would make all these snide comments about her and what a piece of work she was. Their friend was counting the days until he could get in her pants.

  I watched you as they talked about her. And you didn’t even seem bothered. It was like you had put her behind you like a pair of last year’s shoes. It did make me wonder, though, if you’d gotten into her pants. I knew it was something you’d been trying for. You were a teenage boy after all, but you never let on in all of Wade and Blake’s teasing about it. You were a gentleman. It made me proud of you. Even though I secretly wished you hadn’t gotten that far.

  Back to Amber. The thing about Amber was that she was actually nice. I hated to, but I liked her. She was smart and had ambitions other than being on the arm of a famous football player. She wanted to get her psychology degree and work as a school counselor. She was already planning on attending Brown. The thinking school.

  And she never minded me being around. She always included me in the conversation. When we were all studying in your room, she’d help me with my homework and would swat your straying hands away with a purposeful look in my direction. She never rubbed it in my face that you were a couple.

  So, you can see why I hated her at the same time that I loved her for saving me the pain. At a minimum, it allowed me to start doing homework with you again after school. Amber was usually the one to invite me. I guess that could have been weird. Her inviting me to your room, but it wasn’t. It was her way of letting me know that she didn’t think I was a fly buzzing around. Maybe that’s why she lasted the longest of all your high school girlfriends. Maybe, because she wanted to be a psychology major, she did a little psychology on all of us and realized pushing me away would only push you away. Like it or not, I was part of your life.

  The bad news about you getting your license was that you could head off to things like the drive-in and have make out sessions in peace and quiet. No me. No Mia. No Mama to interrupt your boy hands from roaming wherever they wanted. I didn’t like thinking about it. Well, I did like thinking about it, but not with Amber on the receiving end.

  Wynn said I took it better than she’d expected. And I did. Sometimes we got to tag along to the drive-in, or the movies, or the mall. Wherever you guys went, but a lot of times, you went on your own with Amber.

  I had all this free time, and I didn’t know what to do with it. I could only do so much diving. Coach had finally opened up his dive school, so I wasn’t even practicing at the high school anymore. A lot of times you still picked me up in the Camaro on your way home, but sometimes my mama or daddy did.

  I think my mama was secretly relieved to see that you and I were not joined at the hip as much as we had been. I think my admitting to her how badly I loved you had freaked her out a little. Anyway, I had free time on my hands. So, what did I do? I took up horseback riding.

  What the heck? Do you remember saying that to me when I told you what I was going to do? Do you remember that I told you that we lived in Tennessee, after all? Sure, we didn’t live on a farm or a ranch, but there were plenty in the area. You just shook your head at me like my mama normally did when I came up with something so foreign to her that she lost words.

  Wynn joined me. It was good for our friendship to find something that was completely ours. Our coach for the end of my seventh grade
year was Blake. Yes, Blake lived on our street, but he worked out at his granddaddy’s ranch and taught us the basics. It was fun, and he got to tease me a lot about being Super Girl. He kept asking me if there was anything I couldn’t do. Of course, he already knew the thing I was worst at: football. But I could sure as hell referee it, and he’d been on the losing side of my smart tongue many a time when it came to that.

  I think he was particularly hard on me as my coach because it was payback. After we’d learned a lot, Blake taught us how to jump the horses over little obstacles. Wynn panicked and wouldn’t do it, but for me, it was natural. When I was jumping the horse, I got that same floating experience as I did when I was diving. It was a bit of freedom from the things that bound me to the earth.

  There were times, when we knew we’d be doing a lot of jumping, that Wynn wouldn’t bother coming at all to the ranch and then it was just Blake and I. We didn’t say much. We didn’t need to. There was just us and the horses and the countryside.

  One time, when we were out and about, my horse was in mid-jump over a creek when she got spooked by something and, all of a sudden, I was flying through the air, and diving into the creek like it was the pool. Blake was off his own horse and at my side as quick as a lightning bug flash.

  His surfer boy face was scrunched up in concern until he saw that I was just pissed off at having been tossed, and not at all hurt. Then, he burst out laughing so hard I thought he’d pee himself like a dog marking its territory.

  I punched him in the shoulder, splashed his face, and he just laughed more and hauled me up out of the water.

  “You’re something else, Super Girl.” It reminded me of the time I dove off the cliff, and he’d swum out behind you to make sure I was okay. It was kind of nice knowing there were people out there willing to look after me when you were looking the other way. I guess, if I really looked around, there were a lot more people than even him that were willing to bat at my side. Truth was, I just never really wanted them there. I wanted my side empty until you chose to show up.