How Will I Know: The 80s Baby Series

by C Lesbirel

  My dad needs to understand that he doesn’t want the best for me, he wants his best for me, and the same goes for Mom. But, being around Zack makes me realize that I am more than capable of making my own decisions and deciding what is best for me is a privilege that I should have taken advantage of a long time ago.

  Zack

  “Are you okay?” I ask as soon as the door swings shut behind her dad, and her only reply is to burst into tears.

  She runs past me and out of the back door while Rick-the-maybe-not-so-much-of-a-dick eyeballs me and gives a slight jerk of his chin as permission for me to go after her.

  I find her outside sitting on the sidewalk with her face in her hands. The sight punches me straight in the gut. With five sisters, I’m used to seeing girls cry, but it never bothered me in the same way as seeing Lizzie cry.

  “Hey, I got you,” I say as I take a seat beside her and knock my shoulder against hers.”

  “This is so embarrassing. In front of you… in front of Rick…”

  “At least he was in your corner. You’ve obviously made a good impression for him to stick up for you like that. He’s always been a dick to me, hence the nickname.”

  “It just feels wrong for me to stay, knowing how unhappy my dad is about me working here. I don’t even know how he found out about it in the first place.”

  “Look at me.”

  She does and I swipe a rogue tear from her cheek and absorb the pain that’s shining in her eyes. “This is so not worth your tears. It’s all going to blow over. Once your dad wraps his head around the idea, it will soon settle down.”

  “I’m sorry about the way he spoke to you.”

  “It’s nothing.” I shrug.

  “It’s not. It was out of line, and you didn’t deserve it. You’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

  “What can I say. I’m a nice guy.”

  She giggles, and I add a cheeky wink to lighten the mood.

  “Don’t hit on me when I’m upset.”

  “My bad,” I murmur, holding my hands up in the air and making her laugh again.

  “I should probably get back inside before Rick starts being a dick.”

  She dabs her fingers underneath her eyes and tucks her hair behind her ears. “Can you tell him that I’ll come inside in a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  “And, Zack?” she calls after me as I head back inside. Turning to face her, she gives me one of her secretive smiles. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  And every time. I think to myself as I get busy serving a waiting customer. Seeing Lizzie upset stirred up a fierce need to be there for her and protect her, wherever she needed me.

  Three days is all I’ve known her. It’s some kind of freaky to think that you could have so many feelings for someone that you’ve only known for three days.

  “Hey, thanks for stepping in back there,” I say to Rick as he stacks a fresh intake of rental returns for me to re box.

  “You’re a good kid, Zack. I won’t have anyone treating you otherwise.” This coming from the guy who has had me doing all the dirty work since the day I started is more than a bit weird.

  “I know you think I’m hard on yer.” Shit, is he reading my mind? “But it’s only ‘cus I can see you’ve got potential.”

  “You can?”

  No one ever told me I had potential before. In our family, the goals were simple. Survive, stay out of jail and work enough to put food on the table and a roof over your head.

  “I wouldn’t push yer so hard if I didn’t, lad. You keep on keepin’ on, and you’ll be runnin’ this place in no time.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” I run a hand over my hair and avoid eye contact. Just because I dish out enough compliments to audition for a role in the next Care Bear movie, it doesn’t mean I can take them.

  “Don’t say nothin’. I don’t do mushy stuff.”

  “Suits me,” I reply with a shrug of my shoulders and begin re boxing the stack of movies.

  When Lizzie reappears, she’s back to polished perfection, and no one would ever guess that she’d been in tears just a few minutes ago.

  “You alright?”

  She nods, and I sense that she’d rather not talk about it, so we finish up our shift as though the last half hour didn’t happen.

  It’s only when home time looms that I sense her mood dip. “What are you going to say to your parents? I could come with you, if you think it would help.”

  “No offense, but I think that would make things a whole lot worse. Besides, I think I need to figure this one out for myself. But, it’s really sweet of you to offer.”

  “Your dad wouldn’t hurt you, would he?”

  “No.” She looks so horrified that I feel like a total douchebag for suggesting that he could. “He’s not like that at all. He just wants what’s best for me, but what he thinks is for the best, is a lot different to what I want.”

  “Then, that’s exactly what you should explain to him. Maybe, when he understands where you’re coming from he’ll give you a bit more breathing space.”

  “And maybe ET will walk in any minute and order a movie.”

  “A distinct possibility,” I say, stroking a hand over my chin with a glance over at the door as though it’s going to swing open and the weird looking alien is going to burst through the door at any minute.

  Chuckling, she shakes her head and grabs her stack of free movie rentals from the countertop.

  “Do you want me to at least walk you home?”

  “You could walk me to the corner. Any closer would be a risk because my dad only just found out about the job. If he finds out about you too on the same day, it’ll probably give him a heart attack.”

  “To the corner then. Let me just tell Rick we’re clocking off, and then you can tell me exactly what you mean by finds out about me.”

  She side-eyes me, causing me to laugh out loud. “I just meant that I’m spending time with you, that’s all.”

  “A lot of time,” I point out. “All your spare time actually. It’s hard not to wonder if you’re trying to get me into bed.”

  “Gag me with a spoon.” Her eyes fly wide open, and I chuckle to myself as I step behind the counter to let Rick know we’re done for the day.

  Lizzie

  As soon as I walk through the door, you can sense the mood. It’s Steel Magnolias level depressing, and I swallow down the thick lump that’s formed in my throat before I walk into the sitting room. Dad is sitting in his armchair as though he’s been waiting for me since he left Planet Movie, and Mom is on the sofa, arms crossed and brows knitted together.

  “I know you’re both not happy, but if you’ll just hear me out, I can explain everything.”

  My mom opens her mouth to speak, but Dad cuts her off. “Go ahead,” he tells me. His expression is deadpan and doesn’t give anything away.

  “So, it really starts with me wanting to become a scriptwriter.”

  “Not this again,” he interrupts, but I stand my ground.

  “If you don’t give me a chance to talk, then how will you ever understand?”

  “Then talk some sense, goddammit.”

  “I am. Just because my dreams don’t make sense to you, it doesn’t mean they don’t make sense. And, this isn’t just some pipe dream that we’re talking about. This is my goal. My ambition. You’re good at business, so you pursued it as your career. Why shouldn’t I get the chance to pursue my passion and the one thing that I’m good at?”

  “How does this have anything to do with you working at some rotten shop at the mall?”

  “It has everything to do with it. It’s exactly why I took the job, Dad. To prove that I’m serious about this. I’ve listened to everything you’ve said about needing to make things happen for myself, and I’m doing it. I’m going to save every penny I have until I can afford to move out of Pine Grove and begin to try and sell some of my scripts.”

  “You have scripts?”

  I hesit
ate before nodding. Until now, my writing had been a closely kept secret. Everyone knows how much I love to write, but I’ve never told anyone I’ve actually finished a project. Letting people in would mean pressure. They’d want to read my work and no doubt pull it apart. I’m not sure I’m ready for criticism, I can’t think of anything worse. But, I also know it’s something that needs to happen sooner rather than later.

  If I’m going to have a chance at making a career out of my writing, then inevitably not much can happen until I allow people to read my words.

  Glancing between my parent’s, I know it won’t be them who I dare to show first, and my mind flickers between my classmates and friends as I try to settle on someone that I’d be willing to share my writing with. There’s only one face that I keepsettling on, and my lips part in shock as my dad says my name in an attempt to snap my attention back to the conversation.

  Zackary.

  It didn’t make any sense. Why in the world would I show Zack my writing over anyone else. We’ve only just met. Yet, in some ways it made perfect sense. Despite only knowing him for a few days, I trust him. That is the difference between him and my college friends.

  He wouldn’t rip my work apart out of jealousy or blow smoke up my ass just to earn a seat on the popular table in the dinner hall. He’d give me the truth. Good or bad. I respected that about him, and I recall our exchange at Planet Movie earlier.

  Zack was totally right. If I can make Dad understand how important this is to me, then maybe he will back off.

  “Yeah. I have a dozen that I’ve written and a dozen more I’m working on.” His silence tells me that he’s borderline impressed, so I go on.

  “Writing is the one thing in the world that challenges me. It’s effortless and natural, but at the same time, the hardest thing in the world. It’s the one thing that makes me feel alive, and even if you never support me, I couldn’t give it up even if I wanted to.”

  “Is that why you’re moving away from Pine Grove?”

  “Partly,” I admit. “The main reason is that I know you’re not okay with this, and it’s hard enough for me to believe in myself without you both doubting every step of the way.”

  My mom’s eyes shoot to the floor, and Dad swallows my words before he replies, “And that’s why you took the job? To save up enough money so that you can move away?”

  “Yeah. I know respect is important to you both. Especially you, Dad. I wanted to at least get half a deposit for a place together from money that I’ve earned myself rather than waiting for my trust fund.”

  “Sit down, Lizzie.” His tone is forbidding, and my stomach muscles clench tight as I brace myself for his response.

  “Go easy on her, love,” my mom pleads.

  “I’ve listened to what you have to say, and now it’s my turn to talk. Your mom and I have always given you the best, Lizzie. The best clothes. The best school. The best hobbies. You’ve had it all, and the one thing I can’t stand is entitled, privileged kids who think they know better because they believe they’ve been spoilt their whole lives.”

  Not the start I was hoping for. Zack was wrong. They’d never understand me. Tears threaten to spill, but I blink them back and bite my inner cheek.

  “And I’m proud to say that, clearly, I haven’t raised one of those. It takes great courage to follow your passions and have dreams bigger than this small town, Lizzie. I know. My ambitions may have been different than yours, but what you have done takes guts and I respect that. I can see now that of all the things we’ve given you, time was not one of them, and I apologise for that. I should have listened better.”

  An apology from my dad? This turn around is one I wasn’t ready for, and I’m lost for words, so I just sit in silence as he continues.

  “We love you, Lizzie. Seeing you in that dump today was a shock, but now that I know why you were there and what you’re trying to achieve, I get it. You should know that the job is not necessary, but neither is leaving Pine Grove. You’re clearly serious about your writing, and I can see how much this means to you, so from now on, you have our full support.”

  My mom has tears rolling down her cheeks, and I have no words for my dad’s shift in mood. I simply throw my arms around his neck, and he hugs me tighter than he has in such a long time.

  Zack

  “Do you need to head straight home?” I ask as we finish up at work the next day.

  “No, I think after our talk last night, my parents accept that I’m old enough to do my own thing.”

  “Cool.” I stack the last few videos in alphabetical order and watch her as she slips the last couple of returns back onto the shelf. “There’s somewhere I want to take you.”

  “Sounds suspicious.”

  “It’s nothing too crazy, don’t worry.”

  “Who said I mind crazy?” I tease.

  “You are one interesting chick, Lizzie.”

  “Interesting?” She scrunches up her forehead. “You make me sound like a dweeb.”

  “No, you’re gorgeous. A total hottie. You just surprise me at times, that’s all.”

  “And now you’re going to surprise me?”

  “Don’t get too excited. But, yes, I do have something fun planned. It’s about time we let our hair down, right?”

  “Right.” She beams, and I think back to that small smile she used to flash my way every once in a while. The one that had my mind racing with all of the things I would say to her if only she’d take a second look at me. Now I have her full attention, and this smile is a million times more satisfying.

  We finish up our shift and walk through the mall together. I slip the hand that’s not holding my boombox through hers as we go, and I love how easy it feels to walk as if we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Come on down here.” I glance over our shoulder to make sure no one is watching and take the stairs two at a time down to the underground parking lot. It’s closed at this time, which is perfect for what I have planned.

  “This is the surprise?” The disappointment in her voice unravels as her eyes dart around the empty parking lot.

  “Close your eyes and just listen,” I instruct, and she does exactly that.

  I almost forget to press play on the mixtape I’ve made for her because the sight of her with her eyes scrunched shut and lips pouting as though I’m about to kiss her is possibly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

  Pushing the button, I quickly place my boombox down, turn up the volume and wrap my hands around her waist.

  “You can open your eyes now,” I murmur, and her green eyes fly open to study my face.

  “What is this?”

  “It’s a mixtape. It’s full of all the songs that remind me of you.”

  “That’s the sweetest thing ever.”

  Her eyes burn with integrity, and I cup her cheeks, pulling her face toward mine until our lips connect. The taste of bubble-gum drowns my senses as she parts her lips, and I own her mouth with my tongue.

  The music blasts, but the only sound I hear is the sensual moan she makes as I work her tongue against my own and press up against her.

  My dick strains against my jeans, and my hands work down from her waist, gliding over her tiny hips before coming to rest on the tight ass I’d admired for so long. No amount of looking is compared to the feel of holding her this close.

  Sliding my knee between her legs, my thigh presses against her core, and her sweet kiss intensifies to a desperate attempt to have as much of me as she can.

  Her mouth is harsh, but her fingers are gentle and tender as they slide inside my t-shirt and up my spine. The line causing an involuntary shudder that makes her jump and pull away.

  A look passes between us.

  One that screams I want this and borders on I need you, at the same time.

  Her eyes are pleading, her mouth inviting and her fingers teasing at the waistline of my jeans.

  I tear off her Planet Movie polo shirt in a few ho
t movements and pause to take in the beauty of her candy pink push up bra and tiny mounds of flesh underneath. Goosebumps cover her skin, and just as I skin over her bra and watch her nipples pucker at my touch, a spotlight appears across her chest.

  “What’s going on here?”

  Turning towards the light and unknown voice, we both say, “Shit,” at the same time as a mall security guard begins running towards us.

  “You two aren’t supposed to be down here.”

  Lizzie scoops her top up off the floor and holds it over her chest as I grab my boombox, still blasting out Whitney Houston.

  We start to run, but he is hot on our heels, and I grab a shopping cart as we dash toward the exit.

  “Jump in.”

  “What? No way!” she yells back, but when she glances over her shoulder and sees the security guard chasing us, she changes her mind and jumps in.

  Her laughter triggers my own, and I pass her my boombox, pushing her out of the parking. We keep going until the guard stops chasing us, and Lizzie manages to wriggle back into her top, much to my disappointment.

  “Slow down,” she cries out.

  “What did you say? Go faster?”

  “No!” she screams, and I spin the cart so fast that it whirls her around like a waltzer, and she throws her arms in the air, her head tilted to the sky, smile spread across her whole face.

  “Make it stop,” she begs for mercy. “I swear I’m going to throw up.” And realising she might be serious, I grab the bar of the cart and bring her to a stop.

  “You do know I’m totally spinning you next,” she warns, and I chuckle at the sight of her wild, messy hair as she gasps for breath.

  “Bring it on,” I dare.

  “And I have a question.”

  “Don’t worry. We can’t get arrested for riding in a cart.” I arch a brow at her, and she giggles.