Shades of Sydney (Sydney West #1) (12 page)

“I was about fourteen.” I looked away, watching a girl dance on a table, shaking her ass without a care in the world.

Jason touched my arm, bringing me back. He said, “So how long have you been like this?”

I pulled away, feeling unclean. Jason knew the story behind my scars and he wanted more info? My stomach twisted itself into a pretzel. “Like what?”

“Umm…available?” He flinched after saying the words, as if knowing they’d set me off.

I laughed, but it sounded tired, jaded. “You’re dressing up the word ‘slut’. I like that.” I ran my fingers along the rim of the glass, watching them to avoid Jason’s eyes.

He leaned back and waited for a handsy couple to pass by. They were shouting about how much they loved each other. I gagged a little.

Jason looked as exhausted as I felt. “I want it on record. I didn’t call you a slut.”

I laughed harder, hitting him on the shoulder. “You’re killing me.” I forced myself to calm down. When I get nervous, I laugh about anything and it doesn’t ever want to cease. “Anyway, I’ve been coming to Malibu since I was five. It was a family vacation at Grandma’s. Then we got the place to ourselves when she died. When I turned fifteen, I started coming alone and discovering the party lifestyle.”

“Wow, fifteen?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why does that surprise you? People are always partying here. Their ages vary.”

“But you’re not a local.” He motioned toward the girls gone wild. They were dancing like they had become part of a fierce fire.

I turned away from the party. It was just Jason and me. “You got me there.”

Jason gingerly moved his fingers over my left collarbone, pushing back a stray hair. “Are you only like this here?”

My skin tingled, wishing for more. “In Arizona, I hardly do this hardcore partying. I need a reason to party back there. Usually concerts or friends’ birthdays do the trick.”

“You’re not…”

“Not what?”

“Never mind.”

My face fell, like all my joy was taken by the night.

Jason ran a hand over his face. “You never told me why you think you’re broken.”

I let out a sigh.
Do I have to spell everything out for him?
“When you think it over—or at least when I do—I just see myself as broken. I mean, who wants a girl who doesn’t believe in love? People classify me as easy and I’m okay with that. I know others label me as the party girl you shouldn’t take home to mom, but I’ve accepted that I’m never going to settle down.”

“That’s a horrible way to look at your life. Thinking you are nothing but a mistress or a common wh…”

I met his gaze. “Whore, you can say it.”

Pity coated his silver eyes. I loathed being pitied. Suddenly, I was sweating and claustrophobic. Jason, the wall, and the table were too close for comfort. I needed out, needed fresh air.

“You’re not a whore, you just—”

“I need to get up,” I declared, shooing Jason with my hands. When sharing my life story, I didn’t mind him moving to sit next to me, but now he was in my way.

He tilted his head. “Why? Where are you going?”

“I don’t have to tell you. Just move!”

He moved, almost falling to the floor as he did. I passed him and went straight for the closest exit door. Once out in the open, I could breathe again. Searching through my purse, I came up empty. Didn’t have a damn cig when I needed one.

I scanned the area. Someone had to be a smoker and a nice enough person to let me bum one. There was a trio up ahead, all flicking glowing cancer sticks. I was about to make my way to them when I heard my name.

“Sydney, wait!”

“What?” I cried, turning to glare at Jason.

His signature frown was painted on. “You can’t bolt on someone like that.”

“Who said I was leaving? I only needed some air.”

“Yeah? By the way you were acting, it was as if you were going into labor.”

My glare sharpened. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go bum a cig.” I took a step toward the three people, hoping they’d stick around.

He looked lost. “What? I thought you wanted
fresh
air.”

“I do.”

Jason gave me a searching look, trying to figure out my complicated puzzle.

I tried to brush him off. “Never mind. Do you have a reason for following me out here?”

“I was concerned about my friend.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “When did we become friends?”

He stared at me. “Whatever.”

The three people were gone. No cig for me. I turned the other way to walk back to the car when Jason stopped me. “You’re not broken.” His hands were on my shoulders. I refused to look at him.

What does he know?

Jason cupped my chin with his fingers, forcing me to dive into those eyes, dark like the sky. His lips were full and I wanted to taste them one more time. Jason leaned in, granting my wish.

I opened my mouth, letting him inside. He explored me and I felt my leg rise into the air. I dug my nails into his back. His fingers were tangled in my hair. If an atomic bomb went off, shaking the world, we wouldn’t have noticed or cared. For that moment, it was only Jason and me. My hands were at his back, pressing him to me. I felt his hands pull my hair, keeping it out of our faces. A gentle wind came and with it our kiss ended.

“Good-night, Syd.”

Jason released me. I was overcome with frustration and lust. My heels teetered and I lost my balance.

“Whoa! I got you.” He helped me stand straight.

“Thanks, I got it from here,” I said, trying to stand my ground.

“You sure?”

I nodded. He let me go carefully, as if I were a vase made of china.

Countless thoughts went through my head as I drove home. There was something about Jason. He made me feel dizzy and silly when he was around. The sound of his name made my heart twitter. It was nothing, puppy love perhaps, nothing serious. It was nothing serious at
all
. That’s what I’d keep telling myself all summer long.

***

When I entered the house, I found Amelia in the kitchen. I guess she and Hunter finally parted ways after leaving the party. She was writing in a notebook. “Syd, just in time!”

“For what?”

She handed me her notebook. “What do you think of my new signature?”

Was she serious? Who practiced their signature these days? Only wannabe famous people, that’s who.

I took the notebook and studied it. Her first name was signed like she always did. It was curly and girly. She’d even dotted her “i” with a heart. The part that stood out was her last name, Bailey. It wasn’t hers and I didn’t recognize it as any famous person she had a crush on.

“Whose last name is that?” I asked, waiting for her to say some actor or musician she was obsessed with at the moment.

“Hunter’s.”

“Hunter Bailey?” I let that sink in. “No, not
your
Hunter.”

She nodded.

“Please tell me you’re not engaged.” I automatically inspected her left hand, looking for a ring.

“Of course not. I was trying it on for size. I like the ring to it. Don’t you?”

“Sure.” I passed the notebook back and went to the fridge to get a soda.

“I wish I could find someone for you so you’d feel the same way as I do.” She sighed that lovey-dovey sigh. “Then we can double date the right way.”

“Sounds wonderful,” I drawled, grabbing a Dr. Pepper can. She went back to writing. I went upstairs to hide from lovesick Amelia. Cupid hit her square in the ass with that bow of his. Oh, please let him avoid me. I didn’t want an arrow.

I was perfectly fine being alone. Just fine. I can do whatever I want when I want. No one to boss me around. Never having to compromise or do anything I didn’t want to. That was true paradise, right?

It felt like I was always in this vicious cycle with myself. Debating if love was worth the risk of hurting my heart. No, it would do more than hurt. It would crush it and turn it to ash.

I liked my heart intact in its cage of ice, safe from everything and everyone. Some say that’s not a way to live, that being winter-hearted only hurts you and your soul. Love’s a twisted game. It poses as a beautiful rose and then stabs you with its deadly thorn. I knew its tricks. I may be a little mad, but I wasn’t going to fall in love. My fragile heart taped together by ice was never going to be at risk of being torn into ribbons. Never.

Chapter Sixteen

I saw my moment and took it. I hooked my arm with Hunter’s and led him a safe distance away, taking him to the kitchen. Amelia was in the bathroom, probably refreshing her looks once again. I only had a few minutes with him. I had to make them count.

“Hunter,” I said sternly.

“Yeah? What’s up?” His voice sounded nervous, though his face remained blank.

“You know Amelia is my best friend, correct?”

“Mmm-hmm…”

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to look tough. “And while we’re in California, I’m like her mama, you hear? So if you do anything to harm her, either physically, mentally, or emotionally,
I
will hurt you. There will not be a rock you can hide under on this earth where I will not find and punish you for harming my best friend. Let’s just say, you break her heart and I will break your face. Am I making myself clear?”

His body became stiff. He wouldn’t meet my eyes when he spoke. “Clear as crystal.”

“Just so you know, this isn’t meant to be a threat. It’s a promise,” I lied. It was totally a threat within a promise. With that said, I left him to his thoughts. If he was planning on doing anything to Amelia, it fled his brain. My skills at intimidation were right on. I was proud of that. My bark was as bad as my bite.

I returned to the living room and sat on the couch alone. Hunter kept his space by staying in the kitchen.

Amelia jumped onto the couch next to me. She had a grin on her face. Hunter came to join us and sat on Amelia’s other side. His face was still solemn. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him ring his hands together and lay back against the couch the same way Amelia was lying, as if he was using her as a wall so he couldn’t see me.

She noticed his hands and asked, “What’s the matter, Hun Bun?”

I suppressed my gag reflex, stopping myself from barfing at the nickname. That was another reason I avoided love. I didn’t want to be demoted by such fatuous, disgusting pet names.

His mouth twitched, afraid to admit I spooked him. “N-nothing, Angel.”

She turned to me, a look of disapproval painted on her face. Her hair flew around her like a curtain opening quickly. “What did you do to him while I was gone?”

“Nothin’. We had a nice chat is all, right?” I leaned forward and locked eyes with Hunter as I said the last word.

He looked away, staring at his hands. “Right.” He sounded like a boy having to admit he did something wrong.

Amelia gave me a long look. “Hmm…why don’t I believe you then?”

I motioned toward the television. “Don’t know. Are we going to watch something or keep talking in pointless circles?”

She finally nodded and searched for something to watch. I felt better. Hunter knew I was watching him, which meant Amelia was safe. One less worry to cross off my list.

Chapter Seventeen

My cell phone buzzed. Someone texted me. I checked the message.

Jason:
Wanna do something?

Jason kept running through my mind, like a rat on a wheel. My body tingled when he touched me, even if it was an accidental brush. A smile stole my lips when I thought of him. Damn it, I needed to stop that. Looking at Amelia snuggling Hunter made me want to run away to the circus and avoid feeling altogether.

What could Jason be up to?
The voice in my head was back. In a way I didn’t care what Jason was doing. The closer I got to Jason, the closer I was to kissing him. If I kissed him, I’d lose it and we’d have sex again. Then he’d think we were friends with benefits. I liked relationships with no strings attached.

There was nothing wrong about a single woman going to eat dinner alone and then seeing a movie. No, nothing wrong with that. It was just not fun or worth remembering when you looked back on life. A part of me always craved adventure.

Me: Sure.

Jason: Will c u in 15 mins.

Me: Where r we going?

Jason: It’s a secret.

Me: What?

Jason: Trust me.

Me: Why should I?

Jason: Can’t u trust?

My eyes slit as I read. How dare he question me. Of course I could trust! Was he asking because I loathed love and anything to do with romance?

Me: Yes.

Jason: So trust me. Just make sure 2 wear comfortable shoes & don’t wear a dress or skirt.

Now he was telling me what I should and shouldn’t wear? My curiosity was getting ahead of me, gnawing at my insides. Pushing it out of my mind, or attempting to, I went up to my room to change.

I decided on a pair of old blue jeans, a thin, black cotton tee with Xandria’s latest album cover across the front, and some comfortable Nike airs. My hair was tame. A simple brushing sufficed.

As for makeup, I was at a loss. Should I wear a lot, like a rocked out whore, or go simple country girl? Perhaps they could meet in the middle. I made up my eyes with dramatic flair using black eye liner and eye shadow. Then I polished my lips a soft pink.

With my purse in hand, I went downstairs. Amelia was still all over Hunter. My sneaker squeaked on the tile, causing Hunter to turn and look at me. I gave him the I’m-watching-you sign with my two fingers. I think I saw fear in his eyes before he went back to the television. I laughed to myself as I went out the door. I had to wait outside. The love in the room was thick enough to choke me.

Jason came fifteen minutes on the dot. I jumped into his Jeep as it idled. He gave me a curious look as I got in and fastened my seatbelt.

He suppressed a chuckle with his hand over his mouth. “Desperate to leave?”

“Our friends’ love is like those of fairytales, too damn sweet and shouldn’t be real.”

He backed out of my driveway. “They’re getting to know each other.”

I didn’t reply. We didn’t look at each other, just stared straight ahead. Softly, the radio played. It was too low to know the band. I heard drums and a male singer trying to get his message across.

Five minutes later, my mind was done wandering. “Where are we going?”

He looked at me for a heartbeat, wiggling his eyebrows. “It’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Jason acted wounded, holding his chest. “Whoa! You’re not a surprise kind of girl, are you?”

I slid down the seat and looked at the city passing by. “Not really. I like knowing where I’m going.”

“Seriously?”

I hugged myself hard so I wouldn’t hit him. “You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

“You have to admit it’s ironic the girl who parties and wakes up in random places worries about where a friend is taking her.”

“We can agree to disagree.”

Honestly, he was right, but he didn’t know what I’ve been through, what made me like this—a cold heart, an Opheliac. In truth, love was an illusion. It fell apart for my parents. My cousin was abused by her boyfriend and her younger sister got knocked up and abandoned by the guy she thought loved her. The kicker was it was her first time having sex and she was a junior in high school.

I’d choose madness over having my heart ripped apart. It was safer to be alone than it was to be close to someone. That was the main lesson I learned throughout my life.

As a result, I had to keep myself in check more. Never got too close to a guy. Sex was for amusement, but no strings allowed. The haze alcohol gave was pleasant too, but it was hard to think when wasted. One would claim the answer would be to remain sober. If only I could take reality all the time, but I couldn’t. I needed an escape or I’d do something reckless.

The rest of the ride was in silence. We were both trapped with our thoughts. Jason turned into a lane leading off the crowded highway. To my right, I could see a Ferris wheel, a roller coaster, and an auditorium. We couldn’t be going there.

Sure enough, Jason winded down the surface streets and went into the heart of the people gathering to go to the state fair.

“We’re going to the fair?” I asked, shocked.

“Yeah.”

Strange. Not in all my life had a date taken me to the fair. The last time I was actually at the fair, I was around the age of nine. This was going to be an interesting night.

Jason pulled off the road, paying the fee to park, and entered the parking lot. We found a spot that wasn’t too far from the gates of the fair’s entrance.

“Have you ever been to the fair?” Jason asked as we walked to the ticket booth.

“I have a few times. Last time I was nine and I went to the one in Arizona.”

“Ah, so you’re new blood to California’s.”

I watched a family of four pass through the gates, all holding hands. “I guess you can say that.”

“I try to come here every year.”

What a waste of time and money. The fair was a trap for families to get their money taken because their children begged for overpriced garbage. I wouldn’t say that to Jason. I would be strong and hold my tongue.

Jason bought our tickets and as we went through the entrance, I was taken aback. The fair was packed. The familiar sounds of family joy and smells of fried food made me feel like I had stepped back in time, as if I was nine again.

“Come see the world’s fattest pig!” A guy cried from a few yards away. Jason and I walked along the dirt path. We stopped behind the crowd of onlookers. The pig was huge, but I pitied the beast. The poor thing was in such a small cage it couldn’t even turn around.

I winced, not wishing to see more. “Let’s go. Seeing animal cruelty gets to me.”

“It’s a shame. That’s why I refuse to go to the circus. That entire place is filled with cruelty.”

I looked at him, seeing something new. “I never thought someone would agree with me on that.”

Jason hit his chest proudly. “Well, you finally found someone.”

I smiled like a fool and linked my arm with Jason’s. At first I wanted to pull away, but Jason felt safe. He guided us past the animals. There were more. People screamed about all kinds of things. There were alligators, the smallest horse in the world, and oddly colored birds. I closed my eyes and forced us to walk faster.

We came to a turn in the road. On either side was a little shop selling random things. In the corner was a guy with a cage of huge snakes behind him. The sign read,
‘TAKE A PICTURE WITH THE SNAKES’!
It made my skin crawl.

The shops were okay. Jason and I window-shopped. Many of them were selling old fashioned clothes, cheesy fake jewelry, and stuffed animals. The state lottery was there, which was weird. People were spinning a wheel, trying to win something.

“We should go in here.” Jason was already taking me to the place in question. I looked up at its name and saw it was an Old Western place that took pictures. Inside, there were countless Old West costumes for all ages, sizes, and genders.

I lingered in the doorway. “Why do you want to do this?”

“Because I pass it every year, but never did it. I always thought it would be fun to try.”

I wanted to protest, tell him to return later with another victim—I mean, girl. Something inside me told me to do it. Jason studied me with those silver eyes. Why was I panicking? It wouldn’t take long and it wasn’t going to be posted online or anything.

“Fine,” I said, marching inside.

We dug through the trunks of clothing. Jason found something worthy and disappeared into a dressing room in the back. I tugged a dress out from the bottom. It was a long, ruffled saloon dress with black trimming. The dress was like a red rose with death on the edges. I could picture a woman singing and risqué dancing in it as men got drunk around the wooden bar.

It fit me, which was a surprise. I thought it was going to be too small and we’d have to leave without the embarrassing photo.

The photographer came out of the woodwork and demanded money. Guess we weren’t supposed to come in unannounced. Jason gave him what he wanted and like a switch was turned, he was nice to us.

We did a few shots, one with us standing by each other awkwardly. I couldn’t smile normally with the dress clinging to my form.

When I took Jason in with his goofy outfit on, my smile almost cracked my face. He wore black trousers with a white long-sleeved shirt. He had on boots with spurs on the back. In his mouth was a toothpick and on his head was a ten gallon cowboy hat.

“You two don’t look natural. Show me some love.” The photographer told us how to pose and would even step away from the camera to physically move us into the position he thought was right. He also took the toothpick from Jason and tossed it to the ground.

The man gave me a scarlet umbrella and then a fan. Props he thought would help, but to me it was something to hold. The last picture was when the photographer pushed me into Jason.

The guy waved Jason on. “Kiss her. Make it real nice and all.”

Jason looked at me, as if asking permission. I nodded. Under my breath, I muttered, “Whatever will get this lunatic off our backs.”

He smiled, as if he planned this. I was swept off my feet. Jason held my entire body in his hands. I locked my arms around his neck and kissed him. The cameraman said positive comments and took photos.

I wanted to devour Jason. Our kiss became more than a peck on the lips for a silly picture. Our tongues danced together, making me crave more.

Someone cleared their throat behind us. A couple was waiting for their turn. Jason put me down and ducked into a dressing room. I blushed, dashing into the dressing room next to him. His taste still lingered on my lips. Oh, how I loved to kiss that man.

We bought two of the last picture, one for each of us. The rest were left to the recycle bin. Jason held my hand as we made our way down the shops. I felt more comfortable after the photo shoot. I left all my negativity and doubts in that saloon dress.

“Wanna play some games?” Jason asked, pointing to where the games were.

“We can try, but they’re all a scam.”

He pulled me to the game section like a kid excited to see Santa Claus. “Yeah, but they let some win. They have to or no one would play ‘em.”

That was true. As we walked to the booths, a boy, about thirteen, whacked my arm with an oversized, blue gorilla. The closer we got, the more I could see the jumbo-sized animals hanging from the ceilings. All prizes waiting to be won. I never saw the value in them, even at the age of nine. Why did someone want a stuffed animal that was bigger than a toddler? What the hell would you do with it once you got home? More importantly, it sucked carrying it around the fair since you couldn’t take it to the car due to the one entry rule.

“Let’s play that.” Jason passed the basketball games and went for the game in the center of it all.

I studied the little pond before us. The objective was to grab a floating rubber duck and look at the number on its bottom. You then had to pick another duck with the same number. If you did, you won. If not, then you’re out some tickets.

“You wanna play?” an overweight guy eating a corndog asked Jason.

“Yeah,” Jason said.

“Fifteen tickets, please.”

Jason whistled, but handed them over. He then looked down at the pond. His hand circled the surface of the water, trying to get a vibe from one of them, or so it seemed.

“This one!” He choose a pink duck with the number eight written in fat black marker on its butt.

“So, which duck you think has an eight too?” I asked, scanning the water.