Pieces of Paisley (2 page)

Chad tells Krista he is going to jump in the shower and will be back in a few minutes. She finally glances back at me, and her smile drops from her face. She knows this is overwhelming for me. I am not a recluse, but I don’t do parties that well; small gatherings of my own age group I am fine, but this is not my comfort zone. When she suggests we walk down to the beach for a little while I agree, but not before making my way into the kitchen to grab a few shots of tequila. I did it mainly because I love tequila but also so I could wipe that smirk off coochie counters face. Luckily, Krista followed me in there and introduces us.

“Kara, this is my best friend, Paisley.” Oh, said whore has a name . . . Kara. I wait to see what she will do before I respond.

“Hey,” she barely acknowledges that I am right in front of her. I don’t know what I have done to piss her off in the whole fifteen minutes I have been here.

“Hey,” I retort back, in the same monotone voice she used. I can see the smile pulling at her lips, but she won’t let it spread across her face. Stubborn bitch, she is.

“We are going to walk down to the beach and watch the volleyball game going on, do y’all want to come with us?” Damn it all to hell, Krista. I would swear she was stoned if I hadn’t been with her all day. I know she is not that oblivious to the tension between Kara and me.

Surprisingly, Kara jumps off the counter and gives her pussy pole a quick kiss and follows us out of the kitchen. I take in my surroundings on the way out and surprisingly her man is the only non-attractive male around. Just something about him seems off. But, hell, she isn’t at the top of my list as stellar either. I wonder if it is wrong to want to push your best friend down a flight of stairs for her obvious lack of brain function.

Once my feet hit the sand all my edginess floats away. I don’t know what it is about the salt water and sand, but my mind always seems to shut off and a peacefulness falls over me. I close my eyes and inhale a deep calming breath. I decide to let the standoff of who can be the bitchiest between Kara and myself fade away. Nothing will invade my tranquil mind. I look over at Krista who is just smiling at me, she knows how I feel about the sand between my toes and the wind blowing my hair across my face.

“So, are you both cheerleaders?” Kara asks us.

We both shake our heads no. “Krista was until her car accident, and I was until I switched schools last year, but not at the moment, and no plans in the future.” I study her face and actually see her shoulders ease. What is up with that?

“Are you?” I ask her.

“Nope. You just come off as stuck up, and I figured you were.”

“So all cheerleaders are stuck up? How very judgmental of you. That is like saying all blondes are whores.” I glare at her. Yes, she has blonde hair, and I am trying to make my point that she is being a stereotypical bitch.

“Touché” she laughs back. I think we just came to a meeting of the minds. She turns to Krista, “So you and Chad?” I try not to laugh. Pairing Krista off with anyone is the fastest way to make her end things. She hasn’t been interested in relationships since her boyfriend of four years fucked her over and slept with half of her friends. Me? Not included in that fuck fest.

“For now,” Krista answers her back. She doesn’t lie or sugar coat things and is always so damn happy-go-lucky. I swear she is half hippie and definitely doesn’t fit in with her family. They are pretentious assholes, well not her dad and step-mom, but they have a brand new baby and can’t fight her mom and her family.

“So you and Rick?” she asks Kara.

“Yep. Getting married in a few months.” Whoa! Marriage?

“How old are you?” I can’t keep the confusion out of my voice.

“Seventeen.”

I drop it for now, I don’t know her well enough, and we have just approached a volleyball game in full swing with lots of man-candy. I need to focus on not drooling.

Everyone greets the girls and most of the guys just stare at me with open appreciation. I hate that. I am not a piece of meat. Krista eats that shit up, but she is beautiful. Auburn hair, stick straight and shiny, with these beautiful caramel colored eyes. She is what I refer to as a classic beauty. Natural, no make-up, no fuss, and gorgeous. She stands about 5’8” and is all legs and very elegant in the way she carries herself. We are polar opposites. I am short, and I hate it. Being vertically challenged is not fun, especially when your family puts all the good food on the top shelf of the pantry. Assholes.

I look more like my father’s side of the family with my russet brown hair with lighter highlights (not natural) and hazel eyes. I don’t really know my father’s side of the family, but I have seen pictures. I have been raised by my mom and step-dad, but my mom is fair and blonde. Luckily, I tan very easily and am golden almost all year round. Being short and very tiny in frame, most guys look at me as easy to manipulate. Then I open my mouth and that thought goes out of their minds. Maybe that is the real reason I haven’t had a boyfriend . . .

Holy shit, who is that walking towards us? I kick Krista to convey my message and before she can answer me I hear Kara snicker. I don’t have time to worry about her. Mr. Hottie is in front of me. He smiles down at me, and I think I may stop breathing. His hair is dark brown and has a slight wave to it, he isn’t short, but not overly tall but his chest, which is on full display is a sight. “I’m Toby,” he tells me.

“Paisley,” I respond back and am thankful I got that out, seeing as how all the saliva in my mouth has dried up.

“Who are you here with?” Toby asks me.

I point to Krista, and he smiles. He grabs her in a big hug and asks her where Chad is.

“He is taking a shower and Paisley here was in need of some fresh air away from the overload of the house.” Krista explains to him.

“Overwhelmed up there?” he sincerely asks me.

“Yes.” I tell him. I am acting timid, and I don’t know this side of myself.

“Krista, if Chad is up for it why don’t we get out of the house tonight. We could go to the movies or whatever.” He is speaking to her but looking at me. Is he suggesting the four of us go . . . like a double date? Before I can react, some girl has pushed her way into the circle and stands right next to him.

“Who are you?” she spits at me. Oh God, what is with the girls around here?

“Um, I’m Paisley. And you are?” I know I have just rolled my head and given off major attitude.

“My name is Shayna; I am Toby’s girlfriend?” The way she posed that as a question, seemingly very unsure about her relationship status, makes it hard for me not to laugh. First, at her staking her claim to someone who was just hitting on me, and two, when I see the absolute shock on his face at her announcement.

“That relationship may need some clarification to your
boyfriend
,” I tell her calmly. When she throws her arms down to her side and steps forward I know this isn’t going to end well.

“Bitch, I just got out of juvie. I am not afraid to go back,” she tells me. Who the hell admits that?

“First, my name is Paisley, not bitch. Second, is that supposed to impress me that you were only able to call your parents collect?” I say as I step towards her.

Before it can escalate, Kara, of all people, steps between us and tells Shayna to chill and take her shit up with Toby. She herds Krista and me up the beach and towards the door. Before going in she smiles at me, “I think I just met my new best friend, and make sure you remember the name Jake.” Cryptic much? Before I can respond, her fiancé comes barreling towards the door, grabs her arm and tells her to drive him to the store because he is too trashed. He seriously oozes douche-canoe.

Krista spots Chad in the kitchen at the make shift bar, and he motions us over there. I immediately reach for another shot and Krista hands me some concoction of sugary sweet liquor. Krista relays the story of the beach to Chad, and he just laughs. The volleyball game must have ended because the hoard of males make their way into the kitchen, with sweat and sand sticking to them, and I find it getting warmer in here. It could be the tequila, but I am doubtful.

Shayna makes her way over to me, and I immediately put down my drink. She shakes her head at me, telling me I didn’t need to do that.

“Listen, I was out of line. Sorry for being a bitch. Toby and I have issues, and I don’t react well to his extra-curricular activities.”

I get it. Pseudo-boyfriend, albeit hot as hell, is also a bastard. I meet his eyes over her head and flip him off. When he lets out a chuckle and heads over towards us, whatever he was going to say is cut off when everyone starts yelling and cheering as the door is thrown open with “I’m free,” being screamed over the noise. Everyone rushes out of the kitchen, and I hear a lot of “welcome back” and “did you break out” and lots of “how is your jaw?” Those are all accompanied with man hugs, back patting, fist bumping, and loud-ass cheers. I am too short to get a look at the prodigal friend who has obviously been “locked up” . . . or whatever. I may cut my best friend for bringing me to this fucking halfway house.

Every nasty thought about how I am going to carve Krista up flies out of my mind, and all I see is cupid with his droopy diaper and bow and arrow as my eyes meet the most beautiful specimen ever created. I stare into his beautiful mocha colored eyes and remind myself to breathe. His sandy brown hair is cut in a typical surfer boy cut, a little longer in the front . . . and good Lord his body. It is covered up, but I can just tell he is built. Tall, over six feet and just oozing confidence. He has some damn blue coverall things on, and as unsexy as they would be on anybody else, he makes them look hot.

Chad slips out of Krista’s arms and meets him halfway. They exchange a man-hug and you can see the genuine affection between them. The bromance seems to have been cemented. Krista leans over and whispers, “That is Chad’s best friend here. He has been in the brig for fighting, and Chad has been like a lost puppy.” What the hell is the brig and how does Krista know this terminology. Before I can ask her she is swept up in Chad’s arms being carried through the house.

They don’t make it five steps before he calls out, “C’mon Paisley, follow us.” I glance around and realize I would fall them through the fires of hell before staying in this sausage fest kitchen. I was excited for college life until being this frat-like house for a few hours.

He could have mentioned I was following them into the bedroom of none other than the man I am lusting after. Chad introduces Krista, “This is my boy, Jake. Jake, meet my girl Krista.”

Jake is polite and engaging with Krista and then turns his gaze to me, and I almost melt. “Who is this?” he nods towards me.

Krista jumps in, either oblivious or not caring that I am about to crumble on the floor in a puddle of want. “Paisley, my best friend.” Then not missing a beat she asks him, “So, how was doing time?”

He looks at her shocked, and I move forward to grab her and drag her out of here before he cuts her up in pieces. I mean, he has done time. He lets out the most melodic laugh I have ever heard and Chad grabs her and tugs her to his chest. He is whispering in her ear, and she is just nodding.

I look at him, and he is even more gorgeous close up. Since he knows I am checking him out, I decide to make conversation and make it less awkward. “So, what branch of the military are you in? Marines? Air Force?”

He looks at me dumbfounded. Then a dimple appears on one side of his cheek as he grins at me, pointing to his chest, “U-S-N . . . United States Navy, can you read?” Did he really insult my intelligence? And when did he remove the top of those coverall things, and how did I miss that?

“Uh, excuse me, I wasn’t staring at your chest, sorry to disappoint you,” I throw back at him. He has gotten me fired up now. When he hits me with a full blown smile, I no longer remember what I was irritated about.

“Let me shower, and we can head out,” he announces to all of us. Chad ushers us out of the room.

Once in the living room I turn to both of them, “Excuse me, head out where? And what do you expect me to do?”

Krista rolls her eyes at me, “We are just going to drive around for a bit, maybe go bowling or something. Jake just got out of the brig, which is the equivalent of prison for the military, and Chad says he hasn’t been able to drive his truck or been out for six weeks.”

How does she think that explanation is acceptable? “Krista, you have lost more than a few fucking brain cells hitting your bong. How do you find this idea even remotely sane?”

“Oh, goodness Paisley. He got into a fight . . . it’s not like he murdered someone. When you are in the military you are considered government property; your ass can get in trouble for having a sunburn if they want to bust you for it. It was a fight, no big deal.”

I am sixteen years old, this grown up shit is not for me. Chad butts in, “Yeah, he was holding his own with three guys, but then three more came in, and it was over when he got sucker punched. His jaw was wired shut for four weeks.” How does he think this makes things better?

“Krista, I just wanna go home,” I whine at her. Not my finest moment, but I don’t care. He makes me think and feel things that are foreign to me and that edge of danger he represents may make my heart pitter-patter and my stomach feel like I am on a roller coaster, but my sane mind reminds me, this will end badly.

Before she can respond, Jake comes out, and the way he fills out a pair of basketball shorts should be illegal. “I will drive, and first thing on the agenda is Mexican food. I am starved.” And lo and behold, those two jackasses follow his lead and head out, leaving me standing there wondering what kind of alternate universe I am in.