When I sit down on the city bus, I finally get a chance to breathe in and out. How did a simple trip to the grocery store just rock my world off its axis? Did Jace really exist, or was he purely made up of too many library-loaned romance novels?
If I had a best friend, I would be running to her right now to tell her everything. But I don’t, so I’ll just have to replay that make-out scene over and over in my head. Lord knows it’ll never get old. Maybe I’ll sneak over to Mrs. Thomas’ to call my cousin, Kennedy, who lives in Connecticut. We’ve been getting closer these last couple of years, and she always tells me she can’t wait until I get my own phone so she can call whenever she wants.
I could use another girl’s perspective, since I’m still really confused about the whole incident. One minute he’s taking me to coffee because he feels bad about ruining my groceries, and the next he’s pinning me up against his truck and owning me. I’ve kissed plenty of guys. It’s what you do when you’re bored out here; you mess around and get into trouble. But I can definitely say that I have never been kissed like that.
I can’t even call that a kiss because it was on a whole other level. He made me forget about everything…where I was, where I’m from, and even where he’s from. It was just my lips and his, dueling for more. I don’t know what came over me when I lifted my leg, but that moan he made spurred me on.
At the thought of my groceries, I quickly grab the bag from the seat next to me and glance inside. Shit! No! Damn, why hadn’t I been more specific? First of all, the whiskey is some top-shelf brand that I know cost about seven-times more than the cheap one I always buy my dad. The milk is organic, the spaghetti is whole-wheat, the peanut butter has added omega-3s, and to make matters even worse, the ramen is the low-sodium kind. This grocery bill had to have been way more than mine typically costs because all of this stuff is the freaking healthier version! My dad is going to murder me and I’ll never make it to the party now.#p#分页标题#e#
A few weeks ago, I caught the tail end of my mom packing up all of her things and throwing them quickly into a beat-up old suitcase. A fancy black car pulled up out front and my mom rushed inside without even a second glace my way. I don’t care where she went or even why she left, but I do care that I’m getting the short end of the stick yet again. Ever since that day my dad has been strung tighter than usual and flying off the handle in the blink of an eye.
I quietly step into the house, relieved to see he isn’t home yet from the farm that he works on when he’s sober enough to show up. I might actually have a chance to get out of here unscathed. My dog, Chuck, saunters over with his tail wagging to greet me. Chuck, who we think is some kind of cattle dog, is the only loved member in this house. Everybody loves Chuck. He found us last year and never left, and thankfully he did, because he’s my only saving grace in this godforsaken house.
“Hey buddy,” I say while scratching behind his ear. “I gotta leave again soon, but I’ll be back later.”
I rush through my shower and put on the makeup Mrs. Thomas passed down to me a while back. Right as I’m slipping my feet into a pair of sandals, I hear my dad’s truck backfire out front. Quickly, I open the window in the bathroom and slip out into the knee-high grass. I can’t let him see me right now. Once he gets a look at those groceries, he will blow a gasket from the amount of money I ‘wasted.’
Just as I’m rounding the corner, I hear the old screen door slam open, loudly crashing into the metal siding. Before I can hide somewhere, he’s grabbing me by the arms. Coincidentally, it’s in the same exact spot Jace held me not even two hours ago, except this is nothing like how Jace touched me. This is malicious and meant to leave a mark. Well it was nice knowing you, Audrey.
“Just who do you think you are, and why the hell do I see a bottle of whiskey on my damn counter that cost more than I make in a month?” I have no words; they’ve all dried up. “You think you’re better than me, girl? You’re too fucking good to buy the cheap one? You gotta go and waste my money?”
His money? I’m pretty sure I’m the one working fifty hours a week in the back of a hot kitchen. Not that it matters to him though.
“The store was having a sale,” I manage to squeak out, without looking up at him.
“You think I’m some kind of idiot?” Yes, yes I do, I think. But I don’t say that because I’m kind of attached to my face.
Just then, Mrs. Thomas steps out of her trailer with a broom in hand. “Knock it off, Lee!” she hollers over at him.