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GOLDIE(6)

By:Chiah Wilder


“Aunt Patty was always stubborn. She kinda reminds me of a sister of mine.” Ryan laughed.

She giggled. “I would’ve at least listened to the doctor. Anyway, she’s in rehab for about nine months and she’s climbing the walls. When are you going to come home for a visit?” Hailey hated thinking of him fighting overseas. She was just as upset as their mother when he’d enlisted in the Army when he turned twenty. Even though he’d tell her not to worry, she couldn’t help it; he was always in the back of her mind. She wished he hadn’t reenlisted a couple of years before, but he did and she just had to deal with it.

“I may be able to take two weeks off this summer. I’ll let you know.”

“Summer is just around the corner. That’d be awesome! I miss you so much, and so do Mom and Dad.” She blinked rapidly to stave off the tears.

“I know. I’d love to come to Alina and see some old faces. It’s been a long time since I was there.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you for Garth’s phone number. I keep forgetting to get it every time we text or e-mail.”

“You don’t want to look him up. He’s in a biker club now. A badass one, as in dangerous and doing all sorts of illegal shit.”

“But you’re still friends with him.”

“Of course. We’ve been buds since we were in first grade. I’m just saying there’s no reason for you to look him up. He’s got a ton of women around him all the time, and he’s busy as hell with his club.”

She laughed. “I wouldn’t be looking him up to date. I just thought it’d be nice to connect with someone who knows you and can talk about you. It’d be like you were here. I know that sounds silly.”

“It does. I have to go. Don’t work too hard. You’ve got to have some fun too.”

“I know. I loved talking to you. Take care of yourself.”

After she placed the phone on the nightstand, she grabbed a tissue and blew her nose, then wiped her wet eyes. She and Ryan were close even though there was a four year difference between them. When she was younger, he used to take her to get ice cream, to Overland Lake to swim, and all the other things a teenage brother wouldn’t be caught dead doing with his little sister.

Smiling at the memories of their childhood, she pulled out another tissue and dabbed the corners of her eyes.

Then the face of Garth Saner floated through her head. She’d had the worst crush on him, starting when she was eleven years old up until the time they had to move to Albuquerque. She’d thought he was the best-looking boy in the neighborhood. He’d always been nice to her, especially when she’d started growing breasts. When she turned thirteen, she caught him glancing at her chest more times than she could count. It used to make her feel funny, and a fluttery feeling in her stomach made her turn away from him when he’d come over to hang out with Ryan. When she’d entered Jefferson High School, she’d get a burning sensation in her chest every time she saw him with his arm around a girl or caught them kissing near the bleachers. She didn’t know why she cared, but she did, so she avoided him as best she could. Then halfway through her freshman year, her father was transferred to Albuquerque.

I wonder what he looks like now. He’s probably still a player, breaking all the girls’ hearts like he did in high school. Picturing him in a biker gang was easy because he’d had a bad-boy edge about him when they were growing up. He got in trouble a lot at school because of fighting, mouthing off to teachers, and smoking on school grounds. He was a definite rebel. Part of her wanted to ignore Ryan’s warnings and try to locate Garth, but she knew she wouldn’t.

As her thoughts slowed down, she felt drowsy. Pulling the sheets over her shoulder, she closed her eyes and let sleep settle in.

* * *

When she heard the vibration, she sat up in bed, the late spring sunlight beating against her window shades. For a few seconds she was disoriented and thought a bee was in her room. As she swatted at the air, the vibrating sounded muffled and she looked under her covers, petrified that a bee had somehow ended up trapped in her Martha Stewart lilac sheets. When she saw her phone, peals of laughter burst from her.

“Hello?” She giggled.

“Do you always sound this cheerful in the morning after having a tattoo?”

A rush of adrenaline surged through her. The tattoo guy. Fuck. “It’s the only way to deal with the pain.” What a stupid lame answer.

He chuckled. “How’re you doing? Do you still have the bandage on?”

“Uh… yeah. I was sorta sleeping when you called.”