5
Haven
What isit with people and their preconceived notions of how an upper-class girl is supposed to feel? I'm allowed to hate the lifestyle I'm forced to live in. Money isn't everything, and it doesn't always make people happy. I can buy enough things to make it appear like I'm happy, but inside, I'm as miserable as a person who doesn't have a dime to their name. I'll get my wish, though. The moment I graduate this damn homeschool program, I'm leaving this town, this state, and who knows, maybe even the country.
I toss one more rock into the water and head back toward the street. I'm not sure why there are no lights in the park, but it's one of its best qualities. Out on the street, I'm on display beneath the streetlights and their orange glow for everyone to see. I wonder if people know who I am when I walk by. I've only been seen with Mom and Dad a handful of times in the past five years because of my refusal to be a part of their local fame.
The walk from town to my house takes less than ten minutes, and with it being so late at night, I shouldn't be surprised at how empty the streets are. I walk in through the front door to my dark house, which is just as empty as the street. This is my life.Empty.Some days make me wonder if Mom and Dad regret having me. They wouldn't have if Dad didn't end up in this position, but now I feel more like a thorn in their side than anything else.
I amble down the hall and close myself into my bedroom, keeping the lights off as I make my way to the window overlooking the farmer's moon. I was kind of an ass to Raine. I think I was kind of stupid to go looking for him.
I drop my smoke-riddled clothes to the ground and slip under the covers, pulling them up tightly around my neck. There isn't a big enough age gap between Raine and me for him to make me feel like a child the way he did tonight. Clearly, I was barking up the wrong tree. It's obvious I don't know what the hell I'm doing, and chasing a man won't get me anywhere good. After all, that's what Mom preaches. The problem is, everything Mom has drilled into my head has fallen to the back of my mind toward a dark hole I try to ignore. She says she knows best. Yet, I'm miserable.
The late-nighthours quickly turn into daylight, and as my eyes open, I listen for various noises I might hear in the house on a Saturday morning, but everything is silent. I lean to the side, peering over at my alarm clock. It's 9:30 a.m., where could they be already? I pull the sheets down and pad across the room until I reach the door. Poking my head out, I see the silence. Did they not come home last night? I make my way into the kitchen, finding Paula—our on and off again housekeeper.
"Oh, good morning, Haven," she says, sweeping a pile of crumbs from the countertop.
"Where are they?" I ask, squinting through my sleepy haze as I take a seat on a barstool at the island.
"Well, your father has the Sheriff's Ball tonight, so I believe he is at breakfast with the chief while your mother is meeting with the caterer. They said they'd be home later this afternoon." I rest my elbows on the counter and drop the side of my face into my fist. "I know this is hard, sweetie," she says, tilting her head to the side with sympathy I don't want. "Oh, by the way, there was a delivery for you this morning. The box is in the sitting room."
My books. The only thing that keeps me going through the boredom my life has become. I walk into the next room and retrieve the box. "Thanks, Paula," I shout into the kitchen.
"Can I make you some breakfast? Do you want juice?"
"No thanks." I head back down the hall and into my room. It takes less than a minute to tear open the box and lift out my new stack of books. The smell accompanying the hundreds of creamy pages is as beautiful to me as the aroma of fresh flowers. I place them on my bed and fluff my pillows before climbing back in.
Almost the moment I become comfortable with one of the books, I hear the truck pull up out front. I didn't forget. I was trying to avoid the thought of Raine altogether. I'm not standing in the window today. He can mow our lawn and take care of whatever maintenance he does, and move on with his day.
The soothing sound of the mower relaxes me, helping me fall into the imagery of words on the page. As I continue to read, the words are masked by the memories of last night when Raine pushed me up against the wall, hovering so closely, I could taste his breath. His touch radiated through me with heat, and my stomach sank with the realization that all I need in my life is someone who wants to be near me, someone who makes me feel like I'm something other than just the mayor's daughter. How quickly that thought turned into a pile of emptiness with the idea of that person being Raine. It feels like I'm plagued. No one wants to get involved with me. I get it.
With my focus in a blur, a tapping at my window startles me into tossing my book across the bed. I look over, finding Raine in front of my window. My heart pounds at the sight of him—the sweat dripping down the side of his face, his wet hair a shaggy mess, yet he manages to look hotter than ever. He is the definition of a tease, and I am only making this worse by opening my window. Yet, I can’t resist sliding the glass panes apart, leaving nothing but a thin screen between us. "Hey," he says.
"Checking to make sure I wasn't murdered on the way home last night?" I ask.
"I knew you hadn't been murdered last night." His lip curls slightly to the side, exposing the whiteness of his teeth against the tan of his skin.
I shake my head with disappointment. "You do know when you follow someone without their knowing, it's called stalking."
"Yes, I do," he says. "And I'd do it again if you decide to walk through the empty streets of this town so late at night."
"Oh please, nothing bad will happen to me here. Besides, I’m still not sure why you care—"
"I don't know, but I do. For some reason, your life resembles mine in the oddest way." He folds his arms and leans against the outside sill of my window.
Shifting my weight to one side, I cross my arms over my chest. "So, you stay locked in a house that could fit a hundred people, alone, every day, have no real friends, and no one to talk to other than the housekeeper?" I ask sarcastically.
"I guess we're nothing alike beyond the loneliness part, but I understand. I also know I saw your parents downtown this morning. They're getting ready for that ridiculous event for the Sheriff's Department tonight."
"Yeah, and—?"
"Get dressed," he says, looking down at his watch. "Meet me outside in ten minutes." He presses his hands into the sill and pushes away. The mower powers back up, and I'm left standing here wondering what he's thinking or planning. For someone who seemed so afraid to be seen with the mayor's daughter last night, I wouldn't expect this.
Regardless, I grab some clothes from my closet—a pair of denim shorts and a loose-fitting halter top. Glancing in the mirror, I notice the mess my hair is in and grab a baseball cap, slipping it on backward. A pair of sunglasses and I'll be unrecognizable to the few who might spot me.
For some reason, I can hear my pulse in my ears as I step outside to see him. How is this attraction so strong when we have had less than four actual interactions? Is it the stories I've heard, or the ones I've made up in my head about him? Maybe it’s just curiosity, or perhaps, it’s because I’m so desperate for an escape from my reality.
Raine pushes his mower into his truck and locks it into place. Grabbing his shirt as he jumps over the side, he wipes it across his head, then slips it on while making his way over to me. "I didn't think you wanted anything to do with me," I tell him.
