Young Annabelle (Y.A Series Book 1)

by Sarah Tork

  “What’s your secret?”

  “I don’t have to work anymore!” He breathed an audible sigh of relief.

  Confused, I just stared.

  Anymore?

  Why did he act like some burden was lifted off his chest? Had he been working his entire life, or was he really just the tool I first assumed?

  “Oh…” I replied slowly. I couldn’t think of what else to say without the risk of sounding bitter about the situation: One, I wouldn’t get to work with him anymore; and two, I still had to work and today it involved scrubbing toilets.

  I stared down at his hands, they had probably never cleaned toilets. He was a spoiled little boy and it annoyed me the way he was acting. I didn’t have a choice. I had to work or else I’d have no money.

  “What?” James asked, noticing my disposition.

  I hesitated. “I’m just wondering when the violins are going to start playing.” His eyes widened, offended. He was acting as if he’d done more than just half a day yesterday!

  “Are you making fun of me?” He asked carefully. The joyous light was fading from his green eyes as they stared at me in confusion. He didn’t understand. He was used to everyone being happy for him, like Donna

  I wasn’t. And I wasn’t about to pretend to be.

  So I just shrugged.

  “I’m a baseball player,” He exclaimed, as if explaining everything.

  What the hell did that have to do with anything?

  If you play ball, you don’t have to work?

  If that’s the case, sign me up!

  “So?” I snapped in a voice that screamed ‘I don’t care!’

  “I’m on the team now for Royal Heights. They started practice a week ago. I’ve missed out an entire week.” His explanation made no sense and his tone said I had made him uneasy. He wasn’t used to people not giving a shit about how ‘lucky’ he was.

  “Again, so?”

  He looked angry for a second, but his expression quickly melted into something else – something seductive.

  Uh oh! I know that look… Prepare the shields, captain!

  “Fireball… If you aren’t good, I won’t let you come to my practices,” James threatened. His voice would have melted any girl – just not me. I stared back in disbelief, he was so cocky.

  “I’m good,” I shrugged, “but maybe ask Donna there if she’d like to watch you practice, I’m sure she’d jump at the chance.”

  His lip twitched and something changed in his eyes, as if he were seeing me in a new light.

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Then maybe you should,” I snapped back. My lips tightened at the thought of Donna cheering for him on the sidelines.

  Whatever!

  “What was that, Fireball? Do I detect a bit of sadness in your tone?” He took a step closer, making me blush and look away.

  “No!” I tried too hard to sound convincing.

  Keep staring at the wall.

  Do not look him in the face, or he’ll know you’re full of shit.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t be far,” he whispered softly.

  The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I slowly turned back. My eyes met his soft, silky ones. But despite his beautiful eyes, his words still annoyed me. I was sick and tired of people not taking me seriously.

  Time to show him what’s up!

  “I have to get back to work.” I didn’t want to fluff his ego any further, the text conversation last night must have gone to his head.

  “Hey James!” Donna shouted. “Come back here!”

  James’s eyes peered into mine, trying to decipher some code in what I’d just said.

  ‘I have to go to work’ seemed pretty self-explanatory to me.

  Silence hovered over us until he gave in and returned to Donna.

  Whatever!

  “Later, Annabelle,” He muttered, not bothering to look back.

  Pretending I no longer existed, James returned to his intellectually stimulating conversation with Donna. I rolled my eyes and returned to my bucket.

  I had a job to do, toilets needed scrubbing.

  *~*~*

  “Please?”

  “No!” I told my mother as she pouted from across the table at Luigi’s, an Italian restaurant twenty minutes from our house. It was odd that my family was in high-carb central, especially with my parents hounding me about my weight so much.

  But things changed a few hours ago…

  At noon, my shift was cut short. It had stopped raining but the dark clouds still looked threatening. I skipped lunch in the change room, even though I was starving and upset. I wanted to get home before the storm started again.

  As I climbed up the hill with my bike, my mind flashed back to yesterday when James pushed my bike up the hill. My stomach twisted strangely, feeling like someone was repeatedly poking me.

  I was irritated and I knew why – but I didn’t understand it.

  When a guy acted like an asshole….. his name should have been immediately struck from the list of potentials. Not that there were any to begin with, but still. I was trying to cross him off, erase him, but nothing worked. I kept going over our conversation and my stomach kept aching. By the time I made it to the top of the hill, I was a nervous wreck. I hopped on to my bike and raced home.

  A few drops landed on me as I pushed through the front door. My stomach growled as I peeled off my shoes. Unfortunately, the exertion of the bike ride had done nothing to ease my nerves, but it did make me hungrier. I still had my lunch in my backpack, but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough, not with how Mom packed. I headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge, scouring it for anything I could sneak upstairs unnoticed.

  I needed two things right now: food and peace. Anyone who interfered with either was in for a nasty surprise when I bit their head off.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Mom demanded from the other side of the fridge door.

  I ignored her and continued searching for something edible.

  “I packed you a lunch!”

  I shuffled some items around, still searching.

  “What’s going on in here?” Dad yelled, stomping up from the basement.

  “Marcus, look. She’s going to ruin her diet,” She whined, turning to him for backup.

  I grabbed an eighty-calorie strawberry yogurt and slammed the fridge door shut. Mom scanned my hands to see what I took.

  “If you eat that you’re going to be over your limit,” Mom tried to reason as I walked around her, grabbing a spoon from the drawer. Dad crossed his arms but remained silent.

  “Yeah, well, I really don’t care right now!” I shouted.

  She blocked my path from the kitchen.

  “No more diet!” I exploded.

  Mom’s eyes grew wide. “What – You can’t…” she stammered. Dad stayed quiet.

  “I can,” I stated. “So don’t push me, or else I’ll leave and never come back!” My threat caused Mom’s jaw to drop. Dad put his hands on her shoulders, slowly pushing her out my way.

  “Alright, alright, enough of this. Annabelle, you may go eat your yogurt in your room,” Dad said.

  I quickly fled the kitchen and ran up the stairs. I slammed my bedroom door shut, rattling the windows. I could feel my temperature rising with my anger.

  They can kiss my fat ass!

  No one bothered me for a couple of hours. They had a few brain cells after all, and noticed I wasn’t in the best of moods to be quarreled with.

  I had finally cooled down when there was a timid knock on my door. My dad told me we were all going to Luigi’s for dinner. Smart choice, seeing as good Italian food was the only thing that had a chance of getting me out of my room peacefully.

  Then I was informed that today was going to be a “pass day”.

  But once we were seated in the restaurant, the smart brain cells didn’t stick around, not where my mother was concerned anyway.

  “Please, Annabelle, get diet cola not regular,” Mom begged in fr
ont of our waitress. “Please for Mommy!”

  I stared at her and shook my head.

  She was crazy.

  Did she not understand the concept of a pass day?

  We were at an Italian restaurant where my favorite food, spaghetti and meatballs, was their specialty. I hadn’t had spaghetti in a month and a half!

  Calories at home can be monitored more easily than at a restaurant! My mind mimicked in Mom’s voice, repeating what she had said when I started this diet.

  I ignored her plea and ordered: “I want a regular cola, please.”

  Mom let out an exasperated breath and dramatically flipped open her menu, scanning the drink selection for herself.

  “Since a certain someone doesn’t want to make the healthy decision, I’ll go ahead a get that diet cola. Maybe she’ll change her mind later,” Mom told the waitress, letting out a little giggle as if to say, ‘Oh this girl, she’s fat and doesn’t know dieting should be a way of life for her. Because she’s fat. Oh, did I forget to mention she’s fat? That’s because she’s fat, and fat people shouldn’t drink regular cola, it’ll only make them fatter!’

  Wow, she had no limits.

  Mom had no problem acting like a fool in public just to make her point.

  To put it simply: dinner was a disaster.

  But I didn’t care.

  I got to eat spaghetti with meatballs for the first time in nearly two months!

  If I had to sit through my mother hounding me in front of an entire restaurant about getting diet cola, just to get my favorite meal in the entire world, then I’d happily do it again.

  But next time I’d pack earplugs.

  When we got home, I went to my room to see if my cell phone was finished charging. I turned it on and it beeped several times, telling me I’d received five text messages while I was gone.

  Who sent me messages?

  Tiger sent you a message! (4)

  Jenna sent you a message! (1)

  I felt like I was about to have a mini heart attack when I saw ‘Tiger’ on my screen.

  I was so confused.

  I’d told myself that I was no longer interested in that douche – who dared to flirt with that attention-whore Donna right in front of me, as if I didn’t exist.

  He was supposed to be ‘so whatever!’ from now on.

  My body dared to disagree with my mind. It shivered in anticipation of discovering what he wrote to me. I resisted the urge and tapped on Jenna’s message first. Her text was probably going to be funny and I needed funny and lightheartedness before delving into more pressing matters that concerned my sanity.

  Jenna: My dad’s kur-azy! He ordered special t-shirts for my swim meets. Jenna’s Dad, arrow pointing up. And 1 for mom 2! Think I can get away with telling everyone we’re not related? Bitch you better answer me! Laters

  Okay, that didn’t exactly help. In fact, it made me depressed knowing that her parents cared enough about her to get lame t-shirts made. They were proud of their daughter and weren’t afraid to show it. Maybe Mom would get custom shirts made if I managed to lose twenty-five pounds – my first achievement.

  ‘My daughter lost twenty-five pounds and I’m so proud!’

  I laughed, thinking about my mom walking around the neighborhood proudly sporting the t-shirt, a huge grin on her face.

  That feels better!

  I had a new smile on my face that I desperately needed before diving into James’s text messages. I tapped on his name. Four messages popped up, one after the other.

  Tiger 6:00pm: Hey you there?

  That’s it?

  Yes I’m here!

  But I’m gonna need a bit more than that if you want me to text back, DOUCHE!

  Tiger 6:28pm: R u ignoring me? Because of Donna? Fireball, you know it wasn’t like that!

  I shook my head.

  Wrong again.

  First of all, it wasn’t entirely about Donna, second of all, you’re a spoiled little brat who thinks his shit doesn’t stink. Some of us have to work, unlike you.

  Tiger 6:46pm: Fireball! Don’t ignore me :( It was nothing. We were just talking about nothing

  Then why was she blushing like you just told her something dirty?

  I’m not stupid!

  I mouthed “Whatever” to the screen and checked the next message.

  Tiger 7:25pm: Wow, so its gonna be like that huh!

  What the hell did he want from me!

  He was the one who walked away from me!

  Yeah, so I’d told him I had to get back to work, but he didn’t have to agree right away and return to the attention-whore!

  Not cool!

  I tapped ‘reply’ on the newest message. I was going to give him a piece of my mind.

  Annabelle 7:45pm: That’s right its gonna be like that. I don’t owe u anything. We don’t even know each other! Get over yourself, it wasn’t about DONNA! Some of us aren’t as lucky as you, we still have to work! Remember that the next time you decide to gloat!

  I pressed ‘send’ and threw the phone onto my bed.

  BOOM!

  That’s what’s up, douchebag!

  My phone beeped.

  If I was honest with myself, I was a bit scared to pick up my phone, like it would burn me if I touched it.

  New Message from Tiger!

  I reluctantly opened his text. Here goes nothing.

  Tiger 7:47pm: Oh yeah! U need to have your ears checked, I didn’t gloat! Weren’t you the one who tried to lock lips with me? Stop lying to urself. It was about Donna, jealous I was talking to her and not you.

  From your hot studded fantasy

  Oh my God, he did not just write that!

  I almost kissed him?!

  Was he kidding?

  I wasn’t jealous!

  I threw my phone back onto my bed, it bounced and landed on my pillow. My body felt like it was in flames. I struggled out of my sweater and whipped it across the room. It didn’t make me feel any better.

  I grabbed my black sweater from my closet, its zippered pockets were perfect for carrying my iPod. I shoved my arms through the sleeves and placed my iPod in the pocket, pulling out my headphones as I closed my bedroom door behind me.

  “I’m going biking!” I yelled from the front door.

  “You’re going to exercise?!” Mom exclaimed from the basement. “That’s wonderful, Annabelle, I’m so proud of you!”

  Maybe some exercise will help clear my mind!

  Chapter 6

  ANNABELLE

  Tuesday August 21, 2012

  “Go Jenna!” I screamed from the top of the bleachers at the Royal Heights High pool.

  It had been three whole weeks since I last saw or spoke with James.

  Like I care! I reminded myself, turning my attention back to the mock swim meet. The team’s first competition was scheduled for the end of September. Jenna had quit the club a week ago to focus on the new training schedule.

  She is so getting that scholarship!

  I beamed like a proud parent as Jenna brought it home for her relay team, finishing off her freestyle with a quick tap on the wall. Losing her at work and pretending not to care about James’s absence had turned working at the club into pure torture.

  Like I cared if I saw his – very cute – ass anymore…

  I shook my head and laughed at the realization…that I was a fraud!

  Damn it. I exhaled a long, slow breath. I thought my body and mind had reached an understanding, but thoughts of James had been plaguing me since he left. I’d been tormented by these stupid, inexplicable feelings every time my mind drifted to something even remotely linkable to him.

  Need a boyfriend. Like, now!

  What was happening to me?

  All of a sudden I’d become a desperate horn-dog!

  Maybe I’d have a boyfriend able to suppress these out-of-control feelings if people weren’t always on my ass about my appearance, destroying any remnant of confidence I possessed.

  How could I snag a
man if I never believed I was good enough?

  According to Jenna, I was cute. And I was sure there was a guy out there who wouldn’t mind his girl having a little junk in the trunk.

  I was sure he’s out there…somewhere…

  The buzzer rang loudly, signally that the meet was over. I looked down the bottom of the bleachers, Jenna’s parents were sitting with the other parents, all abuzz with excitement.

  A pang of jealously shot through me. They were wearing the t-shirts her dad had ordered: his in blue, hers in pink. Her dad jumped from his seat to enthusiastically applaud his daughter’s victory.

  “Yeah! Jenna, my baby girl!” He fist-pumped the air then nudged his wife to join in on his embarrassing display of affection.

  Jenna’s mom laughed and put her arm up in a haphazard attempt at a fist-pump. He laughed and grabbed her arm, shaking it to match his own excitement. As soon as he released her arm, she dropped it to her side, shaking her head at the mother seated beside her.

  “I can’t bring him anywhere,” She smiled, unashamed. This was an everyday thing for her and she clearly loved him for it.

  I let out another long breath and headed down the bleachers. As I passed Jenna’s parents, they told me to tell Jenna not to take an hour to change. I chuckled, knowing exactly what they meant.

  “I’ll try,” I promised and headed into the hall to the alternate entrance to the change rooms. That was the only way I could enter because I had street shoes on.

  “Fireball?”

  I froze.

  Nervousness consumed my body. I was only ‘Fireball’ to one person.

  I hesitantly turned around. James was walking down the hallway towards me. His dark hair, normally so messy, was damp and slicked back.

  He’d obviously just had a shower.

  Do not go there!

  Annabelle, for Christ’s sake, DO not go there… Shower…James…God!

  My mouth went as dry as the Sahara as he came closer. With his hair combed back, I could see more of his beautiful – stop it! – face, and his green eyes… Damn!