Rock and a Hard Place

Rock and a Hard
Place

Published by:

Angie Stanton at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Angie
Stanton

Cover by:

Mary Kay
Adams-Edgette

All characters in this book
are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.

http:www.angiestanton.com

This ebook is licensed for
your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or
given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work
of this author.

~ ~ ~

To my brother Pat, thanks for the
memories.

This one’s for you!

Chapter 1

Libby watched the cars zip by on the
highway, longing for her dad’s SUV with out-of-state plates to take
the exit and put her life back together. From her spot under an
ancient oak she spied a red minivan exit the interstate and turn
the opposite direction.

She tried to refocus on the sketch pad in
her lap and the wild flowers she’d stuffed in a soda can, but
instead traced the scars on her palm with the tip of her drawing
pencil. If only she could wash the marks away along with the
memories of that tragic day. She wiped her palm against her jeans,
but only the pencil marks disappeared. She focused on her drawing
and rubbed the side of her pencil on the page and shaded the side
of a leaf. A rumble caught her attention and she glanced up; a
large gleaming bus turned off the exit and onto the county road
toward her. The shiny silver and black exterior and darkened
windows of the vehicle made it look like some sort of VIP ride or
maybe a tour bus.

The bus approached Libby’s nature preserve
and turned in. In all the months she’d come to Parfrey’s Glen cars
rarely pulled in. She liked it that way. She thought of Parfrey’s
Glen as her own secret place where she could get lost in her
thoughts.

The rumble grew louder as the enormous bus
turned and pulled to a stop in the gravel parking lot on the far
side of the clearing. She waited for the door to open and reveal
the famous person within. Maybe it would be someone mega-famous
like Celine Dion. Her mom loved Celine and always dreamed of seeing
her in concert. But it never happened.

A moment later the door opened and Libby’s
hopes were dashed. Her quiet nature preserve had been invaded. By
boys.

A trio of noisy guys poured out. The first
leapt from the top step and landed several feet out on the dirt,
followed closely by another. The last twirled a Frisbee on his
finger as he descended.

Her spot under the tree provided a sense of
privacy, so she observed them undetected, a voyeur on this group of
loud, young strangers.

The Frisbee sailed through the warm
September air as one of the guys raced to catch it. A man and woman
exited the bus, her arms loaded with picnic supplies. The woman
walked to a sunny spot of grass, set down her load and spread out a
couple colorful blankets.

They were just a family. No one famous.
Okay, a rich family.

Libby enjoyed a perfect view of the group.
It made her homesick. She propped her sketch pad higher to hide
from view.

The family appeared to be on vacation and
just happened to ride in a huge tour bus, but they didn’t look
wealthy. They wore blue jeans and t-shirts and argued. Their banter
reminded her of her family. Her drawing forgotten, she soaked in
their every move.

One of the boys turned around providing her
a perfect view. He tilted his head to the side and pushed away a
lock of sun-kissed hair. A tiny thrill flipped in her stomach. He
held a portable sound system and loud music filled the air.

“
Peter, turn it
down.”

“
Dad, come on, you never
let me play it loud,” he grinned. He adjusted the volume and set
the system down.

“
Real funny kid. Now get
out of here before I put you to work.”

Peter darted through the long grass toward
his brothers, his movements swift and athletic. Libby’s eyes
trailed his every move.

“
Garrett, over here,” he
yelled.

The Frisbee flew smoothly through the air.
Peter leapt high and caught it. “Oh yeah, baby,” he bragged,
dancing as if it was a touchdown.

He flung it back, his body grace in motion,
this time, to the boy first out of the bus. This one appeared
younger. His hair was a mop of loose dark curls and he wore a
constant grin. They continued to torpedo the disk at each other and
trash talk in the hot sun of early fall. Occasionally, Peter would
do some crazy moves to the music playing in the background. Libby
stifled a giggle.

Peter glanced up at her.

Uh oh.

“
Heads up,” the grinning
brother yelled, as the Frisbee sped towards the unsuspecting
Peter.

Peter ducked as it whistled by, and landed
not far from Libby. He looked straight at her. Every emotion she
wore on her thin skin felt exposed. He jogged over and grabbed the
Frisbee from the grass.

He wasn’t supposed to notice her. She
considered this place her private sanctuary. She worked hard to
blend in with her surroundings.

He whipped the disc back and sauntered to
where she sat against the giant oak. He plopped down in the unmowed
grass, his chest rising heavily.

“
Hey.” He checked her out
with curiosity. “Whatcha doing?”

Libby’s mouth went dry as this great-looking
guy stretched out before her. Apparently he expected her to
respond. Her tongue felt numb.

A year ago she would have been comfortable
with him. Now, that confidence was a distant memory. These days
guys rarely talked to her and when they did, it was to ask rude or
nosey questions. She never answered them. Libby was an oddity to
the kids in this town, Rockville, which was fine with her. She had
been left in this crummy place and preferred to be alone. It was
easier. She’d grown comfortable with solitude, except for now. She
prayed for her former confidence to come back, but it was lost,
along with so much else.

Libby held the sketch pad as a shield. “Uh,
drawing,” she uttered.

“
Oh.” He lay in the grass
propped up on a muscular arm. He watched her with casual interest,
as his breath came back. He was nothing like the guys at Rockville
High School.

“
Are you drawing those?” He
pointed at the wild flowers sticking haphazardly out of a diet soda
can.

“
Yeah,” she spoke softly.
She couldn’t even speak properly. “It’s really dumb though,” she
added trying to sound normal and not like the insecure girl she’d
become. She pulled back and forth at the pendant around her
neck.

“
Why’s it dumb?” His deep
blue eyes gazed at her.

Geez, he talked too much.

“
It just is. It doesn’t
mean anything, it’s just something to do.” She pressed the pencil
hard against the pad and broke the lead.

“
Can I see it?” Peter
reached for the pad.

Libby’s face heated. “I don’t know. It’s
really nothing to look at.” She pulled the bound papers close; her
fist gripped the pencil tight.

When she didn’t offer him the drawing, he
scooted next to her. He leaned close and took the pad, his fingers
brushed against hers, feather soft. He sat so near their legs
bumped. She wanted to reach out and touch him. He seemed larger
than life. His blond hair was still streaked by summer sun and hung
past his eyebrows and over his eyes. He smelled good. Like shampoo
and toothpaste.

He studied the drawing then wrinkled his
brow as if it wasn’t what he expected. He pushed the hair out of
his eyes and looked sideways at her. She noticed a touch of razor
stubble on his jaw.

“
Well?” She waited, and
nibbled at her lower lip as he examined her sketch.

“
It’s not of me,” he
said.

“
Why would it be?” She saw
his look of embarrassment.

“
Well, you’ve been sitting
here watching us, I figured you must be drawing one of us.” He
handed back the drawing, a bit sheepish.

“
Wow. Kind of full of
yourself, aren’t you?” She teased, feeling brave for a moment.
“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s just a bunch of weeds.”

Libby couldn’t get over him sitting so
close. He moved right into her space as if it was no big deal, but
it was. She struggled to sit still and not stare at him as her
pulse raced.

He studied her then shook his head.

“
Well, it’s not very good.”
He declared, but the corner of his mouth turned up as he fought
back a grin. His eyes sparkled.

“
Now you’re just being
mean,” she teased again, surprising herself.

She whacked him in the chest with the
papers, and scooted a few inches away to recover from the
awkwardness of being so near to such an awesome looking guy. Plus,
this way she could sit and look straight at him. He had great
eyes.

“
Sorry, that’s the best I
could come up with. You’re right. I was conceited,” he
said.

“
Fine, but you forgot to
include mean.” She challenged.

“
Okay, you’ve got me. I’m
conceited and mean. Not a good start here. Let’s begin again.” He
laughed then leaned forward and held out his hand.

“
Hi, I’m Peter.”

She looked from his outstretched hand to his
friendly face. Happiness wrapped around her like a warm blanket.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun, and this
guy, Peter, was hot.

“
Hi Peter, I’m
Libby.”

They shook hands and grinned. His hand felt
warm and strong.

“
So Libby, do you come here
often?”

She rolled her eyes at the canned question.
“Yeah, pretty often. Mostly on the weekends.” Every chance she got
was more like it. Anything to get away from the confines of the
house.

“
So you must live around
here,” he looked around for nearby homes.

Libby didn’t want him to notice the rundown
farmhouse in the distance. She didn’t associate herself with the
house, its owner, or even the town.

“
So what’s with the uber
bus? You on vacation? Or just like to drive a gas guzzler?” She
twisted her pendant on it’s thin leather cord.

“
We live in it when we’re
on tour. And yes, it’s a major gas guzzler.” He raised an eyebrow,
aware of her not so smooth change of topic.

“
What do you mean tour?
Like a vacation tour of the country?”

He laughed. “No, we’re on
tour promoting our album,
Triple
Threat
.” He said with pride in his
voice.

“
Your family is in a
band?”

“
Actually it’s not my whole
family, just my brothers and me.”

His demeanor changed, but she couldn’t put
her finger on why. She looked across the way to his brothers and
furrowed her brow. “You are not! You’re making it up.” She could
tell he was trying to impress her.

“
No, really, we’ve had the
band for over two years now.

“
Sure you have.” She eyed
him, not believing a word. They were too young. They must all still
be in high school. Plus, they looked nothing like members of a
band. She didn’t know exactly what guys in a band would look like,
but not like these guys.

“
I’m telling the truth.” He
sat back and laughed again, that she refused to believe
him.

“
So where do you play?” She
pierced him with a stare. She’d catch him in his own lie. “You look
too young for the bar scene. Do you play weddings?”

A coy expression covered Peter’s face. “Uh,
no nothing like that. It’s more public places.”

“
What, like parks or
fairs?” That she might believe.

“
Yeah, something like
that.”

“
Okay, if you say so.” She
shrugged. “Then you get to drive around and see lots of different
places? I’d do that in an instant, if I could.” Anything to escape
life here. She wanted to ask if there was room for one
more.

“
The sights are great, but
it can get claustrophobic with five people crammed in one giant tin
can for days at a time. You’d hate it.”

“
Maybe, but I’d be willing
to make the sacrifice to get outta here.” A tightness in her chest
occurred whenever she thought of her trapped existence.