“Yes, it’s new.” I answer anyway, because he has only ever been nice to me, so the least I can do is not be a bitch. Who am I kidding? I don’t have it in me to be a bitch, because I’m a goodgirl that does as she’s told. Oh great, now I’m irritating myself. “We’ve been talking for a while and he finally asked me out. We’re going to see a movie and then to a party after. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything irresponsible.”
“I wasn’t worried about you. I’m more worried about him,” he explains. “Guys your age don’t always have the best intentions and it'll make me feel better knowing you’re safe.”
I turn my head and consider him for a moment. The silence in the air is thick as I take in his words. Is it getting hot in here?
“Are you trying to have the sex talk with me? You do know I’m seventeen, right?”
“Jesus. I was referring to yourphysicalsafety,” he says as he waves his hands in surrender.
“Oh. We'll be in a public place, so I’m sure I’ll be fine. I appreciate your concern, but you don’t need to worry.”
“Well, I care about you, so worry comes with the territory.”
“Thanks for the assist with Mom,” I say, changing the subject. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s only going to make your evening with her harder.”
“Don’t mention it. You could do it too, you know. What’s she going to do? She only has as much power as you give her. There was nothing wrong with what you were wearing. If you keep giving in to her, she’ll only keep taking.”
“It’s complicated. I know she means well, it’s her delivery that could use some work.” That’s not true. I don’t know if she actually means well.
“She could show it better, that’s for sure. Was she this hard on Axel?” he questions.
“She tried to be, but Axel always pushed back. Those two are like oil and water. I can’t tell you how many times I ended up the mediator in their fucked up power struggles.” I can’t roll my eyes far enough back in my head. I’m still upset that he left me to deal with her by myself.
As we pull up to the theater, he orders, “Give me your phone.”
I stare at him blankly, becausewhat???
“Just give me your phone Arabella,” he demands in a voice I’ve never heard. “I’m going to put my number in it. If you need anything, I want you to call or text. Got it?”
“Sure.” I draw out the word, hesitating for a moment but end up handing him my phone anyway. After a few seconds, he offers it back to me and I get a hit of his musky cologne. God, he smells delicious. Like rugged man and bad decisions. Nope. Get out of the car Arabella. Right the fuck now. “Thanks for the ride, Ryker.”
“No problem. Have a good time, Arabella.”
Four hours, one movie, a boring party and a shitty makeout session later and my date is dropping me off at my front porch. Turns out there is such a thing as too much tongue after all. I shudder at the memory of the disaster of a date I just experienced. I know I don’t have a lot of experience with the opposite sex, but I knowthatwasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Opening the door, I hear her sobs before I see her. Fuck my life, what now?
“Mom?” I call out. “Where are you?”
More sobs, followed by her choked words, “I’m over here.”
I find her in the dining room, hunched over and crying into the kitchen table. Rubbing her shoulder, I ask “Mom, what’s wrong?”
“He left. That’s what’s wrong. I hope you had a great evening, cause mine sure sucked.” She's crying more violently now andmy heart cracks a little at the sight. I’ve seen her upset over guys before, but never like this. For the life of me, I can’t imagine what would have caused him to end things with her. I never understood why they were together, but I never got any wind of real problems between them.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
She lifts her head and pins me with a daggerous glare. “If you had just stayed home tonight and played nice, none of this would have happened. This is all your fault.”
I fail to see how any of this is my fault, but I don’t say it. She’s not in the right frame of mind to hear anything from me right now, and I’m not really in the mood either, because this loss is hitting harder than the others for some reason. He hasn’t even been gone 24 hours, and I already feel the emptiness he left in his wake.
1
Arabella
Ican hear my phone buzzing across the room, but I’m trapped by an obscenely heavy bicep. Chad or Brad or whatever the fuck his name is, is thankfully still passed out. I need to pee real bad and get out of here, preferably before he wakes up and tries to go for round three. I roll my eyes at the memory, because if rounds one and two weren’t anything to write home about, there’s no need to try for a third. He’s pretty, but that’s about all he’s got going for him.
I don’t know why I keep doing this.Lies. I definitely know why. I just prefer to live in denial about why my life is a shit show and I’m just not ready to admit it to myself or anyone else.
