Reverie throws her arms up in the air, her long blonde hair flying out behind her. Her mom says something in response and Reverie rests her hands on her hips, tapping her sandaled foot on the grass impatiently. I can feel the tension in her from all the way over here. Whatever she’s talking about, it’s got her riled up. I don’t think she’s angry but she’s certainly…passionate. She’s always pretty meek and quiet, especially around her mom so I gotta admit…
I like seeing this.
They’re standing among the various rose bushes that Valerie Hale tends to. And they aren’t looking in my direction either so I lean forward, wrapping my arms around the steering wheel as I rest against it. Reverie seems to calm down and she reaches up, running her fingers through her hair again and again, as if she’s combing it.
My fingers twitch. I remember how soft her hair is. I’m dying to touch those silky strands again…
I punch the steering wheel and mutter a curse under my breath. I’m an idiot. I’m driving myself insane by watching her. Longing for her. It’s fucking stupid.
I’m fucking stupid.
By the time I’m climbing out of my car to head toward the house, Michael shows up, parking next to me and hopping out of his tiny car full of boundless energy as usual.
“What are you doing? Spying on the Hale ladies?” Michael asks as he approaches. He flicks his head in their direction and I look to see that they’re heading toward the back of the house, their backs to us as they walk side by side.
Thank Christ. I have no desire to explain myself to Michael. He’ll just twist it around to make me sound like some sort of pervert anyway.
“I was waiting for your late ass,” I drawl, playing it off, praying Reverie won’t turn around and see me. Or worse, what if she said something to me? Not likely that would happen since she’s with her mom but still. I’m paranoid.
“Gimme a break. I got here right on time,” Michael says as we walk toward the house. “Your days off were good?”
“Yeah.” I don’t give him any more details because while for the most part my two days off were fine, yesterday’s visit with David still leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
“I saw Heather.” Michael drops this tidbit like it’s nothing. No big deal. But I know it’s a huge deal because I’ve seen him chase after her like crazy while she continues to ignore him.
“No shit?”
“Yeah. I practically attacked her in the back seat of my car Saturday night,” he says with a shrug, that cocky smile on his face telling me he’s pretty pleased with himself.
“She live with her parents too?” Michael comes home every summer to work, though he lives on his own during the school year, when he’s away for college. He’s told me more than once he’s sick and tired of being under his parents’ roof, always having them tell him what to do.
I say nothing. I’d look like a total wimp if I confessed I wished I still lived with Mom. Yeah, I lost her only a few months ago but still. I need to man up. I can handle this on my own.
“Yep. She’s going away to school in the fall, just like I am,” Michael says, our feet crunching on the graveled driveway. “This is definitely going to be a summer romance, nothing more.”
“And you’re okay with that?” I ask, shoving my hands in the pockets of my shorts.
“Do I have a choice? Besides, it’s not such a bad thing, walking into a relationship knowing it won’t last beyond a few months. So yeah, I’m good with it,” Michael says with a shrug. “Really it’s perfect. No strings attached. We walk away from each other at the end of the summer and no one’s feelings are hurt.”
Not a bad idea, approaching the relationship knowing it’s going to end for good in a limited amount of time. Something I could consider with Reverie though I wonder how she would feel about it. She’s not someone to trifle with. She deserves more than a summer fling with a loser like me.
Not that I can do something like this with her anyway. I’m supposed to be giving up on that angle and I need to remember it.
“Plus, working with her, we can sneak off during breaks and get some personal time in if you know what I mean.” Michael waggles his eyebrows at me like he’s some sort of cartoon character, making me laugh. I’d been in such a bad mood since yesterday it felt good.
I shove him away from me. “I better not walk into the storage barn or whatever and find you half naked with Heather, tumbling around in the hay.”
“Like I found you with Rev in the stables?” More waggling of the brows on Michael’s end. “Besides, hay’s too damn scratchy.”
My lungs freeze, making it hard to breathe. “What the hell are you talking about?” I wave my hand, trying to blow off his statement but it feels forced. Phony.
“I’m not blind, dude. She may have been clear across the room from you but something was going down between you and Rev in the stables.” I can feel Michael’s eyes on me, steady and pointed.
I stop walking and so does Michael. “It was nothing,” I lie.
“Bullshit,” Michael says cheerfully. “Deny it all you want. I saw the way you chased after her on the Fourth. And I freaking felt the tension between you two in the stables. You’re still pursuing that even after everything I told you? Are you crazy?”
No way can I answer him. Instead I start walking fast, headed toward the shed near the patio where the Hales keep all their lawn equipment. Michael chases after me like the persistent dog he is, chattering the entire way.
“Listen, if you’re gonna go all balls to the wall and go for it anyway, I’m not going to stop you. Who am I to get in the way of true love? But I need to warn you dude. This isn’t going to be easy.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say between clenched teeth, glancing around to make sure no one else is listening. Michael’s volume is always high. The guy doesn’t know how to be quiet. The last thing I need is someone else hearing him give me permission to go for Reverie.
“It’s all good if you do like her, dude. I won’t tell a soul. Not even Heather.”
I turn on him, thrust my finger in his face. “Especially not Heather,” I practically growl.
Michael’s smile fades as he throws up his arms in surrender. “Don’t worry. I won’t blow your cover.”
Irritated with my reaction, I drop my hand and turn away from Michael. “It’s nothing between Reverie and me. Nothing.”
“You’re the only one who calls her that you know,” Michael says.
I turn to look at him again. “What?”
“Reverie. No one else calls her that. She’s just Rev.” The smile is back, not as shit-eating as usual though. More like he can see right through me and is realizing that I really do like her.
Which just leaves me feeling weak and vulnerable. And I hate that.
“Rev. It doesn’t fit her,” I mutter, headed toward the shed once more.
“Whatever dude,” Michael calls after me but I ignore him this time. We don’t need to get caught by Valerie Hale talking. She’d love nothing more than to give us twice the work to finish in half the time.
I start my daily washing of the patio, a mindless chore I like to do first thing in the morning, when I’m not one hundred percent awake. Though at the moment I’m hopped up on that extra large cup of coffee I had and I feel all jittery. Or that could just be nerves. I still have no idea how she’ll react the first time she sees me after we kissed. Will she act casual, like it was no big deal? Ignore me completely? Yeah, that would probably be for the best. It sucks though.
Maybe I should go seek her out and get this over with. Be the one to approach her, tell her it was all a mistake and hope like hell she understands. This was all just a fluke. It had to be. Kissing the reverend’s daughter is the stupidest thing I could’ve done since getting out of jail with all charges dropped. I’m supposed to be on the straight and narrow, not playing with danger.
“Nick.”
I about jump out of my skin at the sound of Valerie Hale’s voice
and glance over my shoulder to find her watching me with an expectant look on her face. What is up with these Hales always sneaking up on me and surprising me?
I’m both relieved and disappointed to find that she’s alone. Reverie is nowhere to be found.
“Morning, Mrs. Hale.” I turn to face her, making sure the hose isn’t aimed in her direction. I don’t think she’d like it if I accidentally splashed her expensive leather sandals.
“Turn that off.” She waves a hand at the hose, her gesture impatient. She seems irritated. I can’t help but wonder if it has to do with that conversation she just had with Reverie.
Without a word I go and turn off the faucet, then start hurriedly rolling up the hose. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”
“I do.” She approaches me, her steps evenly measured, her back ramrod straight. Her dark blond hair is pulled into a low ponytail and she’s wearing a sleeveless white shirt and matching skirt. She looks extremely put together, not a wrinkle in sight, not a hair out of place.
She’s intimidating as hell. I usually deal with her when Michael’s around. Rarely do we talk alone. I prefer it that way. Why, I’m not sure.
Maybe because every time I look at her, a steady stream of guilt pours over me, making me feel like crap.
Hey Mrs. Hale, what’s up? Oh, you found out I kissed your virgin daughter in the stables? Yeah, no problem. Hope you don’t mind. I just couldn’t resist her. You have to admit she’s pretty damn cute.
Yeah. That wouldn’t go over well.
“Did you steal my daughter’s necklace?” she asks, her voice laced with just enough venom to make me feel like she’s merely scratching my neck with the tip of the knife, not full on thrusting it into my flesh.
I’m so shocked by her question I gape at her like an idiot for a second, unable to form words. “W-what are you talking about?”
“On Saturday, Rev wanted to speak with you. Something about a missing necklace. Do you know anything about a missing necklace?” She raises her eyebrows, waiting for a logical answer from me.
But I don’t have one. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mrs. Hale,” I say, slowly shaking my head. What the hell? Was Reverie going around accusing me of stealing her necklace? This is the last sort of trouble I need. Is this some sort of revenge plot on Reverie’s part? Because this sort of accusation could royally screw me over.
As in, cost me my job.
“You didn’t steal her necklace did you?”
“I would never put my job at risk like that, Mrs. Hale. I swear to you. This job is everything to me. I need it. I would never steal from any of you,” I vow, hoping like hell she believes me.
She studies me, her gaze razor sharp, almost as sharp as her words. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she purses her lips and I notice the faint lines around them, the bright red of her lipstick. I can see where Reverie got her looks. I remember what Michael said. How she grabbed him last summer and hit on him. I wonder if he was exaggerating.
I hope like hell she never tries to pull something like that on me.
“Glad to hear this,” she finally says. “I’ll be frank. I don’t like that my daughter is asking about you.”
I swallow hard and say nothing.
“I want you to stay away from her,” she continues as she takes a step toward me. Then another. “I don’t know exactly what she’s doing, inquiring about you. Making up stories about missing necklaces and then miraculously finding them. She’s young and curious and naïve. Someone like you could easily take advantage of her.”
Anger flares inside of me at her words. Someone like me? What is she accusing me of? She’s making me sound like some sort of creeper rapist.
“So I suggest you stay away from my daughter.” Mrs. Hale taps me on the chest with one red lacquered red fingernail. Her finger presses into me, lifts away and then does it again. Like she’s testing me out or something.
Weird.
“I have no plans of going after your daughter,” I tell her firmly because damn it, it’s the truth. I don't need the trouble. I don’t need some crazy girl going after me, accusing me of things I didn’t do, getting me in trouble with her parents, my employers.
“Good.” Mrs. Hale tilts her head back, her gaze meeting mine. She smiles and presses her entire hand against my chest, her fingers curling ever so slightly into the fabric of my shirt. “Because I will ruin you if you so much as lay a finger on her.”
With those final words, she shoves at my chest and then turns, walking away without a backward glance. I watch her slip back inside the house through the French door and take a deep breath the moment she disappears from view.
A mixture of frustration and anger swirls within me and I breathe deep, wishing I could punch something. What the hell was that all about? Stolen necklaces? Veiled threats? The woman sounded like she wanted to chop my balls off and then turn around and play with them. And that is scary as shit.
I’m starting to think spending even a minute with Reverie Hale isn’t worth the risk.
Dear Diary,
(July 11th, 7:52 p.m.) I don’t know what I did wrong. Nick ignored me all day. Any time I tried to get his attention, he looked away from me. Not that I saw him much. Mom kept him and Michael busy and then she forced me to go with her while she ran a bunch of errands, which really turned into us going out to lunch and going shopping. An early birthday present, she told me.
For once in my life, I wasn’t in the mood for shopping. All I wanted was to see Nick. Talk to Nick. Find out what happened, see how he’s feeling after we kissed. Because I was alternating between feeling great about it and then worried. Now though. Now I’m just…
Confused.
I’m also tired. I don’t have anything to say. Nothing good happened today. My expectations were so high that I think I’m crashing. In fact, I know I’m crashing. If I keep writing about how disappointing this day was, I think I might start crying.
I’d like to avoid that so I think I’m going to lie in bed and read. I’d rather lose myself in a book than worry if Nick hates me or not.
For so long I wanted a boyfriend. I wanted to know what it would be like, to kiss a guy, talk with him, flirt with him, touch him. Hold hands, go out on a date, talk about meaningful things, make each other laugh. I wanted all of that. I thought for a quick minute I would get that with Nick.
I wanted too much too soon I guess. Or maybe I put all my focus on liking him and not realizing he wasn’t feeling the same way. Whatever. I must say this though.
I didn’t realize liking a boy, kissing a boy only to have that boy ignore me would hurt so much. Because it hurts.
A lot.
Dear Diary,
(July 17th, 8:05 a.m.) I am now seventeen. I don’t feel different but I never do. When you’re little you think birthdays are magical moments. Perfect days where nothing can ever go wrong. And even if it does, cake and ice cream and prettily wrapped presents can solve all your problems.
It’s not true. Don’t get me wrong. I still love cake and ice cream. Presents too. Mama and Daddy have already been so generous. She took me shopping and bought me so much stuff. Pretty things. I didn’t get the, ‘Don’t be vain,’ or ‘Remember to pick something modest,’ lectures either.
It was nice.
But I still don’t have what I want most. He’s still ignoring me. I think I know why too and it must have something to do with Mama. I think she talked to him. Told him to stay away from me. He steers clear of me completely. Won’t even look at me. It’s so weird.
I miss him.
This morning though, I woke up feeling hopeful. Feeling strong. Before I even got out of bed I made a wish. Closed my eyes tight and squeezed my hands together, almost in prayer.
I wished for one more chance with Nick.
Tonight is my birthday party. I’m going to wear my new dress and put on the makeup Mama allowed me to buy. I’m going to put my hair up and try my best to walk in those new heels. Most
everyone coming to the party are friends of Daddy’s but that’s okay. At least the Williamsons are coming. Glenn Williamson has always had a crush on me. I used to have a tiny crush on him too.
Not anymore. This may sound mean but I’m going to use that crush to my advantage. Maybe my flirting with Glenn will make Nick sit up and pay attention. I feel like a mean girl for using Glenn but he won’t mind. He’s too sweet to mind.
Here’s to new adventures. To capturing my dreams. To becoming a woman.
Here’s to turning seventeen.
Jealousy: resentment against a rival
July 17th
“You look ready to tear his arms off and make him eat them for dinner,” Michael mutters.
I jerk my head toward him, glowering at my friend. “What are you talking about?” I clench my hands into fists, barely able to keep my focus on him when all I can hear is Reverie’s happy shouts as she splashes around in the pool.
With a guy.
“Douchebag in the pool with Rev.” Michael waves his hand toward them. Reverie’s laughter rings out, light and sweet and it’s killing me that I’m not the one making her laugh like that. I’ve blown my chance thanks to her witch of a mom. “Though I’m pretty sure he’s harmless. You could take him on.”