Young Writers Society

Philip Masterson

Dafnie looked up at me, red flushing her cheeks. Oh best friend, you are way too pale for your own good. I sat down next to her and rose my eyebrows at both Rupert and Colette. They smiled in return.

"So," I paused, crossing my arms over the table. "You guys didn't answer my question. Who doesn't have feelings for me?"

"Not important," Dafnie huffed with a giggle. "How have you been?"

"Oh, it's you!" I teased. "You are the one that doesn't have feelings for me. That makes sense, cause Rupert is head of heels for this dick."

Dafnie couldn't help but break out laughing as did Colette and Rupert. I smiled at them all and looked around the coffee shop. One of the baristas was approaching our table. He had dirty blonde hair and Harry Potter glasses and he was eyeing Dafnie, hard. I felt like spitting at him, telling him to back off. Creepers can't just stare at girls and think it's okay.

But, to my surprise, I heard Dafnie squeal. I looked over at her and she had leaped from her seat and rushed over to Harry Potter glasses guy, strangling him with hugs.

"OLIVER! Oh my GOD!" she laughed into his chest.

His cheeks grew pick as he hugged her back, nodding at us in a sort of hello.

"Dafnie, I would like to breathe now." Harry Potter glasses guy had a Harry Potter British accent as well. He's a charmer.

She pulled away and held onto his hand as she introduced him as Oliver Hemingway. He's two years older than us and came to visit Seattle's coffee houses. He's originally from Connecticut. Originally - originally, Bristol.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Philip." I smiled.

"Colette, but call me Cole if you'd like."

"Rupert or Rup,"

"Nice to meet all of you. I hope you all enjoy your beverages, they are all made by me. Can I just steal Dafnie for a moment?"

She couldn't stop smiling and that made my heart race. She was finally genuinely happy. And all it took was one British fellow. Dafnie deserves this.

"Sure, just remember to give her back." Colette laughed.

They walked away to the back of the shop, leaving me with the two love birds. That made me long for Isabelle. Oh did I miss her. I haven't seen or heard from her in a few days and I don't know how I'm living these days without her by my side. I don't know if I had done something... or if I hadn't done something. And Dafnie wasn't much help in that department cause her and Issy weren't good friends.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"You heard him, Oliver Hemingway." Rupert mocked his accent. "I came from Connecticut but am originally from Bristol. I came here to check out the coffee shops in Seattle. It's a plus that Dafnie lives here." he kept on mocking causing both Colette and I to laugh.

"Nice Rupey." I smiled. "But no, what I meant is... who is he to her? Have you guys met him before?"

"I have, he came to the dance last year. It was when Paul was with Issy and Daf was heart broken. he just happened to show up. He's a real charmer Phil." Colette explained. "He went to Harmony High, Dafnie's cousin actually went there, that's how they met."

"Ohh, interesting. I think he could really make her happy." I said.

Rupert rose an eyebrow in question. I sipped my coffee, enjoying the sweet notes of vanilla that jumped on my taste buds.

"You think they're dating?" Rupert had asked.

"I'd hope so, Dafnie needs it. Especially after Paul."

"You wanna know who her cousin is?" Rupert asked, smirking.

"Uh, do I?"

"You do."

I took a look at Colette and she rolled her eyes. This must not be good.

"Okay, I do. Tell me."

"Bradley."

I honestly did not get who this person was, at first. Then Rupert sighed once I didn't react and Colette pulled up something on her phone. She turned on some music and then I realized who it was.

"Bradley? Like, are you kidding?" I laughed, flabbergasted.

"Yeah, the Bradley. Dude Dafnie has it lucky. She may not be getting the fame or fortune from her family, but, she's got them." Rupert replied.

Colette turned off the rock ballad and smiled. "It's good that her uncle keeps his family under ground or else we'd have paparazzi all over our school." she added on.

"Uncle?"

"Jared Leto." Rupert squealed.

"I DO NOT BELIEVE YOU." I huffed.

@Gravity

Riley Trahan


Carrie and I had wordlessly decided to take my truck to my place. I hopped in the driver's side and pulled my brush belt off of the floor under her seat before she got in. Tossing it in the back, I put my seatbelt on. I could see the apprehension on Carrie's face when my truck didn't start the first time around. When it rumbled to life the second time, some techno-pop song started blaring, full volume. We both gasped in shock. She covered her ears as I desperately smacked at the console. I must've hit the right button eventually, because the space filled with silence.

"Sorry," I muttered. I did end up turning the radio back on about halfway to my house. I couldn't stand the awkward silence, and I could tell that Carrie felt the same way.

I parked on the concrete driveway of my little, blue, one-story house. It was pretty simple. I wasn't really good at decorating, so I compensated by painting the walls extravagant colors. Greens, maroons, sky blues, and yellows covering every wall and ceiling. I watched Carrie's chin rise as she took in the colors. She glanced over to me as I slid my Vans off. She followed my lead, putting her shoes neatly by the door.

"Do you want a drink?" I said smiling.

"Sure," she said, smiling a little. I listed off a bunch of drinks. We both settled on Orange sodas. I brought the two bottles over to her, giving her one of them. She muttered a thanks as I walked past her. I opened the door to the stairs that led down to my basement. It was where I spent most of my time when I was home. I trotted down the wooden stairs, flicking the soft, yellow lights on. I heard Carrie's footsteps behind me and I took a deep breath. I pulled at the earbuds poking out of my shirt collar and tossed my soda bottle up and down.

It was tense at first, neither of us really talking that much. I tried my best to break the ice.

"So...you play volleyball, huh?" I ask, hitting the red striped ball into the corner pocket. I walked around the table, looking at Carrie.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" She says after taking a sip of soda. I miss my next shot.

"Uh, I think that girl mentioned it. Jasmine? Is that her name?"

"Yeah, that's her name," Carrie says, sinking her second shot. "And yeah, I'm on her team." She hesitated. "Do...you play sports?"

"Nah. Not really my thing, I guess," I said. It was true. I hadn't played any sports since before junior high. She asked me why, implying with her gestures that I was stupid for not putting my abundant muscles to good use.

"Well, I used to play basketball. But that was when I was a scrawny fifth grader, so..." I said, smiling. She laughed, probably trying to imagine my head on a fifth grader's body. This image made me laugh, too. I stopped laughing, though, when Carrie shrieked. She leapt backwards, looking at something on the floor.

"What? What is it?" I said, worried, jogging over to her and following her gaze. I glimpsed a small, furry animal before it darted under the pool table. It must've run between her feet. I dropped onto my stomach, reached my hand under the table, and grabbed the animal carefully. I got to my feet, looking at her sheepishly.

"Sorry 'bout that," I said, cradling the hamster in my hands. "He's not mine, he's Danny's. He must've forgotten to lock the cage before he—" I cut myself off, not knowing how to finish that sentence without Carrie running out of my house.

"Who's Danny?" she asks, catching her breath.

"Oh, he's my brother," I reply, heading over to the little hamster cage on the corner of the basement.

"Is he here?" Carrie asks innocently, looking up, as if she had X-Ray vision, and would be able to see Danny if he were upstairs. I have my back to her as I look down at the hamster in my hand, my other hand on the cage door. I swallow.

"No, he's—no, he's not," I say in a low voice. She doesn't say anything for a minute. I put the hamster back in his cage. He mewls. I walk back over to Carrie, giving her a reassuring smile, as if to say It's okay, I'm tough. I'm crying on the inside, but you don't have to worry about me. I'll be just fine.

I can tell she's trying to lighten the mood. "What's his name? The hamster, I mean."

I smile, appreciative of her effort. "Dexter. Like from those books," I say, drawing a blank look from her. I let out a breathy laugh and look down, realizing how nerdy that must've sounded. "It's a series. I mean, I've never read them, but Danny was super obsessed with them when he was younger. It's like a, uh, a murder-mystery sort of thing, I think. Actually," I explain, looking over at the stuffed bookshelf. "He might have some of the books down here." I search through the titles of old, cracked spines. I find a grouping of newer-looking books. I pull them out. "Yeah, here they are," I say. "Double Dexter, Dexter By Design, Dexter Is Dead—that's probably the last book in the series, if I had to guess. Dexter the Hamster isn't one of the books, though, so I dunno why he named it that," I trail off. I was rambling. I look up at Carrie, my mouth falling open. She has kind of a vacant smile on her face, her eyes a little wide. "Well, say something."

"It's cute that you take care of his stuff while he's...away," Carrie says, smiling a little. I tilt my head to the side.

"You think so? It's not weird? I mean, it's not like I'm good at it. Am I supposed to give him baths? He kinda smells," I say, looking at the hamster. Carrie throws her head back and laughs. I grin at her. She hits the eight ball into the pocket by my hand.

"I won! What's my prize?" she exclaims. And I stop at this fork in the road. I could go the route where I tell her she's won a kiss, and make out with her on the couch next to me. Or, I could friend-zone her and tell her she's won another soda, and go upstairs to grab one. I hate to resort to either extreme, especially since I still don't know what she thinks about last night. My efforts to bring it up completely failed, and she wasn't helping out at all on that front. I decide to let her choose.

"Well, I don't recall setting stakes," I say smirking. I lean forward and put my forearms on the soft, green fabric of the pool table. "Remind me what they were, will you?"

As soon as Riley started ranting about his little brother's appreciation for modern crime fiction, stumbling over his words and struggling to understand what he was talking about, I got this feeling in the pit of my stomach. Some kind of irrefutable endearment. And there he was, leaning on the pool table after I hit the eight ball in the upper right pocket. Smirking, toned forearms tan against the green, with playful eyes and asking me to define the stakes of our ridiculous little game of pretend.

It may have been easy for him, but it was difficult for me. To pretend that nothing had happened the night before. To pretend that he hadn't come waltzing into my house that morning with his Cinderella Story and some futile attempt at a happy ending.

Okay, so I was being hard on him. I had been the one to invite him in, and he'd looked more nervous than anybody when he came tripping up to my doorstep like he'd lost something important to him and wanted to know if I'd seen it. Even now, his expression was pleading for comfort. Not to mention the fact that I was, like I said before, still completely upside down from my head-over-heels episode. Stopping my metaphorphosis into the chick from a chic flic was both the first and the last thing I wanted to do.

It would have been easier if he was just like all of the other assholes.

But instead, he had to make things so damn difficult.

Gaze faltering, I turned away from Riley and walked to the couch. I sat down, knees together as I stared pointedly at the carpet. I chewed on my lip, mentally filtering through hypothetical scenarios and modes of conversation. Riley's eyes burned into me. "Carrie?" he asked.

"We should talk," I told him, speaking the dreaded words.

"That's what I've been saying," he replied, sifting his fingers through his dark hair--the same hair my hands had brushed through the night before. I recognized the sleep lines on Riley's face, and the way the shadows dropped over his perfect nose and square jaw. I remembered my fingers tracing his cheekbone as our lips touched.

He walked over and took a seat beside me. His knee knocked against mine as he turned to face me. He cleared his throat and pulled his leg away. I felt my lungs stifle the breath in my chest. Riley shook his head, confusion evident on his face. "Look, Carrie...I don't know what I did wrong. You keep acting like I hurt you in some way, but no matter how much I think, I can't--"

"You're right," I cut in quietly. I felt my face heat up, and in a moment of courage I turned to look at him. He was looking back at me, lips parted. "You've done everything perfectly," I admitted. "That's what doesn't add up."

"What doesn't add up?"

"You," I told him. My eyes returned to their rightful place in the center of the carpet. "The person you are doesn't add up with the one I've heard about. Riley-you-Riley versus Riley-the-player. They're different. I didn't exactly have time to draw up a Venn diagram comparing and contrasting Thing One with Thing Two, but the one main difference floating around in my head is the fact that you actually kind of seem to still like me. Like, in a personal-me way, not in a girl-who-breathes-air-and-has-breasts way."

I paused, struggling for words. Riley stayed quiet; his hands were intertwined and straight between his knees.

"It's not like I sleep with a bunch of guys whenever I feel like it, Riley. It's kind of a big deal for me." I exhaled. An awkward silence ensued. I couldn't believe that I'd brought it up so blatantly. I wanted to steal a glance at him, maybe catch what he was thinking, but I couldn't. "It's not that I didn't want to wake up next to you," I told him. "I just didn't want you to disappoint me."

I thought for a second that he wasn't going to talk; that he'd just sit there with his head hung as the guilt circulated inside of me. He took his hands apart and then let them fall back together.

"So, instead, you decided to disappoint me," Riley said slowly, like he was deep in contemplation. It was more of a statement than a question, but I answered anyway.

"Yeah," I said into my lap. "I guess the boys don't like me for my problem-solving skills."

Riley let some air out at this notion, and we both shared a breathy laugh. I don't think either of us thought I was very funny.

"I guess my reputation is kinda, I dunno, less than honorable," he said at once, his voice low. "I'll admit it. A lot of it is true. But a lot of it isn't." He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "And honest to God, if you hadn't run last night, then I wouldn't have either." Now he turned towards me, thumb lingering on the cushion next to my thigh. "I like you," he said. "And not just in a girl-who-breathes-air-and-has-breasts kinda way." A smile sparked at the corner of his mouth.

Feeling sympathy stir beneath my skin, I folded my arms and swiveled in his direction. "What kind of way, then?"

Riley smiled, cheek crinkling. "Well, let's see. You're smart, and you make me feel really dumb." I gave a snort of a laugh, and he smiled wider, glancing up at the ceiling. "Which might sound like a bad thing, but it's actually nice. And then, well, you actually seem to listen when I talk about myself."

"And I also wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Hey," Riley said, "you'd be surprised how many girls just shrug off my rambles because they aren't interested."

"If you usually spend your conversations reminiscing about modern literature and the origins of hamster names, then no, I don't think I would be surprised."

At that, Riley erupted in a burst of laughter, interjecting a playful hey and poking me in the stomach. I shied away, and he reached forward to tickle me more. I bent over and curled my arms around the front of my sweatshirt, yelping. There were tears in my eyes by the time he sat back, smiling at me from the corner of his eye.

"That's what I was talking about, y'know," he said. "I dunno how you do that."

"What, get tickled to death?" I asked. "It's easy. All you need is--"

"I meant the smart comment," Riley cut in, with a smile. It was the same smile he gave me before he kissed me at the party.

"Oh," I managed, breathless. He moved on the couch, adjusting where his jeans rested on his thighs. He surprised me by catching my stare.

"What?" he asked, looking taken aback at my googly-eyed-ness. "How many heads do I have?"

"Sorry," I said quickly, and hastily stood up. I smiled at him, brushing my hair away from my face and tucking it behind my ear. "I have to go."

Disappointment flashed across his face. "Go? Why?"

"Um," I replied, heading for the door and brandishing my phone, "I just got a text from my mom." It was a lie; if my mom really had texted me, I'd probably be doing the opposite of whatever she instructed. She wasn't exactly in any position to be dragging me around. Part of me felt bad for lying to Riley. But I couldn't stay. I was afraid that if I did--well, I guess that evil was unknown to me. But I wanted to keep it that way.

"Let me drive you home," he insisted, standing up and stepping towards where I was about to disappear.

"No," I protested, "I'll walk. Thanks anyway."

"Wait," Riley called after me, but I was already up the stairs and around the corner. In the span of several seconds, I was pulling my hood over my head to shelter myself from the rain. I hated my spontaneity. I hated that I'd left in such a hurry.

Good old Carrie. Booking it for the furthest place from her problems.

~*~

I ducked under the awning of the nearest Starbucks, and could feel rain trickling down the back of my neck. College students busied themselves with their laptops near the window, and younger kids congregated at the tables, laughing and sipping double mint mochas. I must have looked lost, because I heard my name being called with firm intent to comfort. "Carrie!" A blonde girl skipped over to me. The musk of coffee was thickening in the room. The girl reached over and put her hand on my shoulder. After a moment, I recognized Dafnie.

"Oh, hi," I greeted back.

"You look confused," Dafnie told me. Her blue eyes widened at me; they reminded me of Riley's. "Something wrong?"

"No," I said, "Just getting out of the rain, and well--getting out of the rain." I cleared my throat and then gestured to the nearest table, pulling out a chair. Dafnie joined me. "So what're you doing here? Just getting coffee?" I asked.

"Uh-huh," she said, taking out her phone and beginning to type. She must've been keen on multitasking, because she kept up our conversation. "I usually come here at least once a day."

"Cool," I said.

"Plus," Dafnie said, her pale complexion lighting up, eyes flitting to me, "I saw Oliver Hemingway here yesterday." Her voice had a certain inflection when she said his name.

"Oliver Hemingway?" I asked, smiling. And then, knowing she was about to tell me anyway, "Who's that?"

"This adorable guy," she replied, popping her bubble gum. Then she shrugged, blushing slightly. "He used to go to Harmony High. He's two years older than me. Cute glasses, great accent. And I think he likes me." Dafnie started stirring her coffee, smile still plastered to her lips. "Anyway, I'll introduce you the next time he's around."

"Cool," I said. It seemed like my vocabulary was shrinking to exclude all words except for yes, no, and cool. I shifted in my seat, and smiled at Dafnie. "He sounds really great."

"He is," Dafnie insisted, as if I needed persuading. "I won't bore you with the details, though." Her fingers flew across the screen of her phone, and then there was a last resounding tap with her forefinger. She put her phone into her purse, and then leaned forward on her forearms. "Speaking of details," she began. "What's new with you?"

"Nothing really," I told her, waving my hand.

"Oh, it totally is, c'mon." Dafnie grinning, lowering her voice. "I heard about you and that guy at the party. What's his name, Ryan? Ryan Trahan. You guys totally--"

I cut her sentence short. "People know about that?" My heart started to thump furiously inside my chest.

"Yeah," Dafnie said. "News travels fast here. Especially that kind of news, if you know what I mean." She must've caught a hint of anxiety peeking through my stony expression, because her grin faltered. "Were people not supposed to know?"

My heart was still racing, but I managed to calm down. "I don't know," I told her. "Not really."

"Have you talked to him since?" Dafnie asked, raising her eyebrows. We were talking in whispers, and I silently thanked her for understanding my inner plea for placidity. I barely knew Dafnie, but she seemed easy to talk to.

"Yeah," I told her. "This morning. He's not like the rumors say."

"I wouldn't be too sure," she responded, slurping some of her coffee and levelly meeting my eye. "Guys like him are tricky. Believe me, I would know." I nodded, pulling my sweatshirt sleeves over my palms. Suddenly, I wished I'd ordered a coffee. It would've been a nice distraction for my hands. "So d'you think it was just a one-night thing? Or are you guys gonna start going out?"

I laid my head on my arm. "I dunno," I said contemplatively.

"Well, d'you like him?" Dafnie smiled; she was just trying to get anything out of me.

I thought about Riley, his dark hair swept back, lip curling up into a smile, hiding his excitement about Two Broke Girls, or trying desperately to explain to me about Danny's hamster. I felt a smile creep onto my face. "Yeah," I said, looking up at her. "I think I do."

"In that case--" Dafnie began, but stopped when a new Starbucks customer caught her eye. "Uh-oh," she said to me. "Your 3 o'clock." I turned in my chair and saw him, Riley, standing at the entrance. His shirt was soaked from the downpour. My heart jumped into my throat; if he saw me, he would realize I was lying about Mom's text. I made a move to get up, but then he caught my eye.

Dammit.

Brooke Kestner

Whoever said that only white girls come to Starbucks was clearly lying. Don't get me wrong. A lot do, but if you really want to get a good feel for the people of your town, work at Starbucks. I would say Saturdays are our busiest overall day. All kinds of people come and go throughout the shopping day. Everyone and their mother.

---------------------------------------------------------------

5:00

This Saturday morning was no different. I was working a double shift, and I came in early to help set up.

“Hey Brooke. Mind setting up these fair flyers on the bulletin board?” Darla asks setting up the register for the day.

“Yeah.” I look down at the flyer. “Summer Bash Festival? What is this?” I turn back to Darla.

“You know that Amusement park near here? Well, every year they have this big summer extravaganza. Fireworks every night, good park ticket prices, street vendors galore. It’s like the best event of the summer.”

“I’ll definitely have to check it out. I love a good street bargain.” We both laugh.

“Alrighty get those flyers up before customers start coming in. Or those soccer moms won't know what to do with themselves.” I laugh again pinning the posters in their designated spots.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

11:45

After the morning rush passes, everything begins to slow down and I can actually pay attention to the faces of customers who come in. Even after working here for a few months it still surprises me when I see someone from school. One of the first familiar faces I see is that girl named Thorne. I had formerly met her just a few days ago. The day of the car crash…

I shake the thoughts away and put on my best smile as she walks up with another girl I actually don't recognize. However, I am extremely jealous of her really pretty red hair.

“Hey Thorne.” I say as they step up.

“Brooke right? It's good to see you. Can I get a grande Caramel Iced coffee. I need to re-pump my caffeine addiction.” We laugh.

“Alrighty. And your friend?” I look back at the red haired girl, but she looks completely lost. Thorne laughs.

“This is my new friend Natalie. She doesn’t go to Starbucks much.” She turns to the girl.

“Um- What's good here?” Natalie asks.

“I would suggest one of the fruit refreshers on a day like today. Its great against the heat.” I say. Natalie smiles.

“Alright, that sounds good. Do you have strawberry?”

“Already ahead of you. Alright your guys’ total is $8.64” Thorne hands me her card with a smile. “Nice. It should be ready soon. If you guys want just take a seat at one of the tables.

“Thanks Brooke. It was good to see you. Hopefully we’ll have some classes when school starts.”

“Yeah.” I smile.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

2:30

After Thorne and her friend leave the morning rush is officially over. The only ones who come in are the occasional mid-day coffee addicts. I am in the middle of scrubbing some dried caramel off the counter when the next customer comes in.

“Whoa. It's moments like these when I finally see how worth it is working during nice summer days.” Darla whispers walking by. I look up to see a really nice looking guy around my age enter the store. He looks like he had been on a run.

“Oh puh-leeze.” I say finishing up the spot.

“Oh I forgot. You’re Brooke Kestner. The only girl in this world who cares more about sports than a cute boy.” I laugh shoving her away. “Even you can’t not enjoy that.”

“Dude stop!” The guy walks up, and places one of the water bottles and an apple on the counter. I cough off the laugh in my throat. “Um, will that be all for you?”

“Yeah.” His face is hard, and there isn’t much to tell about what kind of mood he is in.

“Okay. That will be $4.62.” I say timidly for some stupid reason. He pulls out a five dollar bill, and places it on the counter.

“Keep the change.” He starts to walk off when I stop him.

“Hey? I’m sorry, but do I know you from somewhere?” He turns back.

“Maybe school I guess? Your name?”

“Brooke Kestner.”

“Merrick Vail. You’re the swimmer girl right?”

“That’s me.”

“Well good luck this year.”

“Uh. Thanks.” He gives a short wave and makes his way out of the store.

“Dang. What a deep conversation.” Darla says walking by. I shove her, and she laughs.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

5:30

The pace has picked up again around this time, and I swear possibly the cutest baby in the world just came in with what looked to be an older sister maybe?

“Oh my gosh! He is so cute! What’s his name?...Sorry was that weird?” The blonde girl laughed.

“Haha no. He gets that a lot. And his name is Isaac” She smiles down at the baby in his stroller. “And thank you.”

“No problem.” I smile. “What can I get you?

“I’ll take a grande peach tea.”

“Alrighty. Is that it for you?” She nods with a smile. “And a name for that?”

“Jessie.”

“Okay you’re total is $3.05.” She hands me some cash, and makes her way over to the waiting area with her baby. Watching them you can see what a beautiful dynamic they have. A dynamic stronger than a brother and sister. Thats for sure. I smile as she leaves, and I wave to the cute baby along the way. She waves back and heads out the door with her blonde locks swaying behind her.

------------------------------------------------------

7:35

“How much longer until we close?” Darla whines. I laugh.

“Um you’re the manager. You should know.”

“Oh yeah.” She looks at her watch and frowns. “3 more hours. Ugh! Here, I’ll be a good boss and I’ll let you go after you help these last customers.” She points to the door. I smile, and turn to the door where my smile instantly becomes confused in a mixture of happiness and a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Steph and Pedra

“Brooke!” Pedra yells running up to the counter. Steph smiles walking up behind her.

“Hey Pedra. Steph. What can I get you guys?” I smile.

“I’ll have Grande, Half-Caff, Soy Latte At 120 Degrees with a pinch of cinnamon.” Pedra says confidently. Steph and I both look at her like she is insane. “What? I saw that on tv.” Steph laughs.

“She will take a Tall, Hot Ch-ch-chocolate.” Pedra crosses her arms, but you can still see her struggling to keep the smile away. It was good to see things good in Steph and Pedra land. “And I’ll have the same thing.”

“Alright. Your total is $5.26.” He hands me a card, and I ring them up. “My friend Darla back there will get started on those right away.”

“Cool!” Pedra said running over to one of the fancy couches.

“Hey Brooke. Make sure you clock out this time before you leave.”

“Wait you’re leaving.” Pedra says overhearing. “You wanna go see Finding Dory with me and Steph? We’re going after this!” I raise an eyebrow at Steph and he shrugs.

“Honestly I’ll probably enjoy it more than her.”

“True” I said. “Those younger generations don’t get it.” He laughs, and my stomach sinks deeper.

“So are you in?” He asks. My brain scrambles for the supposed right answer.

“Please please please please please.” Pedra says sticking out her bottom lip and clasping her hands together.

“Maybe…” Both of them smile, and I know they know they’ve got me hooked in.

What the hell am I doing to myself?

Colette

"Okay Jessie, " Mrs. Maye said, "I need you to undress and put on this robe," she handed over a fluffy white robe "so that I can take your measurements. You'll have to take the robe off when you come out but I think it will help you feel more comfortable."

Jessie nodded and took the robe as Mrs. Maye closed the doors to the fitting room and pulled out some samples.

Jessie reappeared wearing the robe. "I wasn't sure if I should leave my bra on so I decided not to take it off, is that okay?" Mrs. Maye nodded.

"Yes, it's okay, as long as you plan on wearing a bra with your wedding dress."

Jessie nodded, "Yes, I have to because I'm breastfeeding now."

"Colin told me you had a baby. Okay, now I need you to take off the robe and stand with your feet shoulder width apart and your arms out. Would you feel comfortable with just us or can Colette stay in the room?"

Jessie bit her lip, "yes, I'd rather have her here." I felt a rush of gratitude. We were getting closer and I appreciated it.

Jessie dropped the robe and I averted my eyes, helping Mrs. Maye write down measurements. Afterwards, Jessie got dressed and came out of her little dressing room.

"Okay, Jessie, so talk to me about what kind of styles you like," Mrs. Maye said, taking out her laptop and some sketchpads.

"I want something classic. Adrian is a very classy, elegant gu-" she paused, "man, and I want to reflect that in the dress. Something refined. But I also want something a little on the sexy side," Jessie pulled out her phone and prom photos, her bulging pregnant belly in her tight, red dress, "I want to remind him of the first night we met in Paris. I was wearing this dress and it was also my prom dress."

"Okay," Mrs. Maye nodded, sketching out a basic form of a woman on the sketchpad. "Now let's look at some of these fabrics, some of these fabrics work better fitted in different ways than others, like you wouldn't use satin on a huge ball gown and you wouldn't use tulle on something close fitting and sexy. So let's see what you like and then go from there."

Jessie nodded and I could see her nerves dissipate. Mrs. Maye had that way about her, she was soothing, but firm, with long elegant fingers that brushed and organized the fabric or sketched on her sketchpad. Jessie's eyes lit up as she chose several different materials she loved, and she was beginning to get frustrated as she realized she loved so many. But Mrs. Maye was great at helping her narrow down her choices.

As the two hour session we had went on, I could see a dress materializing on the sketchpad. Inch by inch, using the materials Jessie picked out and creating notes on the sketchpad detailing exactly what Jessie wanted. I could envision Jessie wearing the dress in my mind and Mrs. Maye definitely had an eye for these things, Jessie would look like a piece of art on her wedding day and nothing less. She would be alluring and sensual but also very classy and elegant. Adrian would love it.

We left Mrs. Maye's shop and Jessie was glowing, I could tell she was excited to finally be making some headway.

"I'm so glad I had this idea, I couldn't imagine myself in any other dress," she said. I listened to her talk about the dress and her shoes and her makeup. She was thrilled and I could see why. This was her day, the best day of her life. I could see why she was excited.

"Can you drop me off at Rupert's?" I asked. Jessie nodded and turned at an intersection, accelerating.

When she pulled in front of Rupert's house she smiled at me and unlocked the car, "thank you for everything," she said, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I smiled back before getting out of the car and walking up to the front porch. Rupert answered when I knocked on the door and Jessie drove away.

"Hey, babe," he leaned in and kissed my cheek before I stepped in the house and hung my purse on the hook so I wouldn't forget it.

"Hey Rupert?" I said, pausing.

"Yes?"

he looked at me with those piercing blue eyes and I grasped his cheeks with the palms of my hands. I inhaled slowly and leaned in, letting my lips brush his.

Rupert's hands dropped down to my waist just as I pulled away.

He rested his forehead against mine. "Are you sure that was okay?"

It had been the first time we'd kissed since 4 months before, I'd been raped the day after prom and physical affection was difficult. I didn't like anybody touching me unless they were my immediate friends.

"Yes," I said without hesitation, "it was wonderful."

Adrian

I wiped sweat from my forehead as I sauteed and onion and flipped over a chicken breast at the same time. The air conditioning was on full blast, yet it was a struggle to keep my sweat out of the food.

"Chef Beaumont, how much longer on that chicken? The customers are getting impatient." the waitress called through the kitchen door.

"Um," I looked at the meat in the pan and at the progress of my onion,

"I need about 12 minutes to fully cook it and allow the meat time to rest."

"Yes sir," she said, walking away and letting the kitchen door swing shut.

"Adrian," the girl washing dishes tossed me a cool rag. I caught it and wiped my forehead and then tossed the rag over my shoulder, allowing the water to seep through my dark gray chef's jaket and onto my shoulder.

"Thanks," I said, smiling as I took the meat out of the pan and set the onions off to the side.

"Beaumont, huh? Any relation to Antoine Beaumont?" She flicked her raven black ponytail out of her face as she stuck plates in the commercial dishwasher. It was a big metal box that held dozens and dozens of plates, glasses and silverware. She pulled the big lid down and pressed a few buttons, through the windows you could see it immediately steam up. She continued to scrub wine glasses and special presentation plates, things that couldn't go in.

"He's my Dad," I replied. Everyone knew Antoine Beaumont owned the hotel this kitchen belonged to, along with hundreds of other hotels in the U.S. and in Europe.

"Wow, what are you doing cooking in the kitchen? Did Daddy cut you off?"

I smirked, putting some olive oil in a pan and swirling it around the pan, "I love to cook," I said simply, dropping green beans into the oil and relishing the sound of sizzling vegetables.

"I respect that," she said. "I'm Bonnie."

"Nice to meet you, Bonnie."

"Likewise," and we went back to our respective jobs.

After work, I waved goodbye to Bonnie and left the kitchen, wiping my forehead once again. I tore off my chef's jacket and threw it into the big, rolling laundry hamper. This was where dirty cloth napkins and dish rags went as well. Maid service cleaned them for us every night.

I walked into the cool night air and down the street. Downtown Seattle was bustling at night. And, of course, there was a slight drizzle of rain. It always was raining here.

I hailed a cab and told the cabbie my address. The ride home was only a few minutes, it was about 2 miles. Sometimes I walked, if it was nice out and not too muggy. But it was around 10:00 at night and I was exhausted.

I let myself into the apartment quietly. Colette was just going to bed on the couch and she kissed me on both cheeks. Standard French greeting for friends and family.

"How was work?" she asked.

I huffed out, "Exhausting."

"Good," she said, grinning. Colette knew I got bored if I didn't get myself busy.

"Bon soir, ma cousine."

"Bon soir," she replied, laying down on the sofa after kissing Isaac goodnight in his crib. He was sound asleep, his tiny thumb in his mouth and his legs sprawled out.

"Je t'aime," I whispered to his sleeping figure before pulling his little blanket further up his body and turning out the light. Isaac was normally in bed by 7 or 8, so he was sleeping soundly.

I walked back towards the bedroom, trying not to squeak on the hardwood floor. Jessie was in her pajamas, propped up against the pillows and watching an episode from Grey's Anatomy. her phone was in her hand and she was scrolling through something.

"Adrian!" she called softly, locking her phone and dropping it on the bed. She stood up and came over and hugged me, kissing me deeply.

"Hello, my darling," I replied, twirling her around on her feet before gently setting her down. I took her hands in mine and kissed the tops of both of her hands, before also planting a kiss on her engagement ring.

"You smile like burnt cooking oil," she said, inhaling.

I plugged her nose and she smiled, her blonde waves cascading down her shoulder. She batted my hand away playfully.

"Someone had a good day," I said, raising my eyebrows.

"Mrs. Maye sized me for my wedding dress today. She created a sketch, it's beautiful. I can't wait to see it."

"I can't wait to see it either. On the floor of our hotel room in the French riviera." I said, chuckling.

She giggled before wrapping her arms around my neck and kissed me. I could feel her smile in the kiss before she pulled away.

"Go shower. And then maybe we can practice for our honeymoon?" she pressed her lips together, holding back a grin.

"If you insist..." I said with mocking reluctance. She bit her lip and climbed back into bed as I headed towards the bathroom. This was how I wanted to be greeted every night for the rest of my life.

The life that I would be spending with her...

Steph
____________________________________________________

"Almy, c'mere," Luke said, yanking me over to where he was messing around on a laptop. It was after practice, and the guys were all over at Bash's place. I stared over Luke's shoulder, where he was browsing on the the school website. "This the girl you've been dating?"

It was Brooke's yearbook picture; she was smiling, dimples on both cheeks. Her curly hair was tucked behind her ear. "Nah," I said, clearing my throat. "I mean, we're not dating." I couldn't look away from her. Underneath her picture, there was her name: Brooklyn K. Kestner. I gave a little laugh, and Luke shot a glance in my direction. "I just didn't know that was her full name," I told him.

"She's hot," Luke said, and as soon as he did, the rest of the guys started to flock to the computer like a herd of cows.

"Who's hot?" Bash asked shamelessly, wiping his shirt over his mouth.

"Nobody," I interrupted. I tore my eyes away from Brooke's picture, reaching over and snapping the laptop shut. "Y'all can get off my ass about it."

"Brooke Kestner," Luke told Bash, trying to wrestle the computer from my grip. I held on tight, but after taking an elbow to the gut, he snatched the laptop back.

"Oh, Steph's girlfriend," Bash replied matter-of-factly.

Stretching my arms anxiously, I said, "She isn't my girlfriend, alright?" Then I paused for a moment, rubbing my neck. Dubiously, I added, "She friend-zoned me."

Bash's eyebrows shot up, and Luke and Gill both broke out in surprised laughter.

"Man, you just gotta show her summa that Steph-Almy charm," Kyle chimed in from the kitchen table.

"You were out with her, weren't you?" Bash asked.

"Yeah, but my sister was there," I said. "Doesn't count." I looked into the kitchen. "And there's no such thing as Steph-Almy charm, Kyle."

Luke put his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me. "I bet Connie Williams would disagree with that."

"Not since we broke up," I told him. Connie. It seemed like forever ago that we were together. I felt myself blush at the mention of her name. Even now, I still thought about her sometimes; we'd been so obsessed with each other. So much it was stupid. Before school let out, I would see her in the hallways, and even though we were done, she'd look straight at me with her giant blue eyes and then walk on by. Like I was a ghost. She knew I hated myself for the way things ended up between us. But I think she secretly hated herself too.

"Aw, look at him blushing," Luke said.

"Still in love with Connie Williams." That was Bash.

"Too bad she's got a new boy now, isn't it?"

"Really is too bad."

"I was gonna go to your wedding."

"Shut up," I told them.

~*~

Pedra and I sat on one of the couches in Starbucks the next day, waiting for our orders. "See?" she whispered to me, lounging back lazily, "I just helped you out."

"Yeah," I said, "Thanks a lot." The truth was that I wasn't sure if I wanted Brooke to go with us to the movies. I didn't want to be reminded of what happened between us a few nights ago. I was also getting a little tired of Pedra prying into my social life. She was a pain in the ass when it came to nagging me about Brooke and arranging dates. Dragging my little sister around was starting to get annoying.

My eyes wandered to Brooke, where she was preparing our drinks. She was whistling to herself. Her long eyelashes blinked, and she adjusted her shirt. My attention shifted around the room, and I sat still until I couldn't sit still any longer. I started tapping my fingers on the leather, and my knee bounced up and down.

Pedra reached over and pushed my knee down with her thin hand. "It's okay," she said to me. "Calm down. It's gonna be fun."

Just then, there was Brooke with our drinks. I took mine and Pedra took hers. "Hey, uh, if you still wanna come with us--" I started.

"Sure," Brooke said, with a smile, like she'd been thinking about it the entire time. For the first time, she looked less than confident. Nervous, even. She chewed on her lip. "But I have to sign out first and clean up a little...I'll meet you guys at the theater?"

"Sure thing," I said. "Don't be late," I added, joking.

Brooke looked back at me, mouth turning up. "Or what? You two'll snag a prettier Starbucks worker?" She raised her eyebrow.

"Impossible," I said, and then to Pedra, "Let's go, pal. We gotta run home first."

"See you in a little bit," Brooke said to both of us, and she touched my forearm as she walked past. After she was gone, Pedra slapped a hand over my mouth.

"You're smiling like an idiot," she whispered loudly in my ear.

I flung her hand away. "Huh? No way, I'm not. Shut it."

We drove home quickly. I wasn't getting any better at driving; Pedra mentioned how she was scared for her life every time we were in the car. We still drove the Corolla, which still had a dent near the bumper. "Why d'we have to go home first?" Pedra kept asking, and I told her that I had to change and that she could wait in the car. I jogged into the house and dug through my drawers. I hurriedly doffed my T-shirt and started buttoning my blue button-up. When I ran outside, half-dressed, Pedra was reaching over from the passenger seat and slamming on the horn repeatedly.

"Stop that!" I shouted.

"Hurry up! Hurry up!" she yelled.

"Does my hair look okay?" I asked her as I hopped into the drivers seat.

"It's sticking up all over," Pedra deadpanned. Seeing the horrified look on my face, she giggled hysterically. Clenching my jaw, I reached over and shoved her. "Gotchya," she said triumphantly. I started up the car.

We got to the theater around 8:00. Pedra and I waited in line to buy our tickets. I told Pedra to think about what snack she might want to get, so her eyes were glued to the wall of candy on the other side of the velvet ropes. A group of girls were standing in line behind us, and I could hear them whispering.

"Isn't that Steph Almy?" I heard one of them ask the other. "Steph Almy, your old boyfriend?" My heart jumped, and one of the other girls cleared their throat. Not able to help it, I glanced behind me. There were only three of them. I recognized one of them to be Bridget Quinley. She was head cheerleader. And then there was Connie, staring at the ground. Her blonde curls were bouncy and she had her hands in her back pockets. The other girl in the group stood awkwardly, glancing between Connie and me.

"Hey C-Connie," I said, voice low. Stupid stutter.. "Hey Bridget."

"Almy," Bridget said. Connie didn't say anything.

"You guys here to uh, watch the movie?" I asked, and then felt stupid immediately afterwards.

The unnamed girl rolled her eyes and said, "What else would we be here for?"

"Oh," I said, scratching my head, "right."

"Can we talk, Stephen?" Connie piped up suddenly, the familiar jingle of her soft voice filling my ears. Pedra was glancing over at the four of us and back to the candy; she knew that when Connie was involved, it was best just to shut up. "Can we talk?" I didn't know how to answer that question, and a tense moment of silence ensued.

"Not even my Ma calls me Stephen," I told her after a second. "And m-maybe later."

"After the movie?" she asked me earnestly. The lights in the theater made her pale cheeks look flushed. She didn't want me to forget.

My fingers were tapping against my right pocket. I exhaled, and then said, "Y-yeah."

Just then, Pedra grabbed my arm, asking me urgently for the money to buy the tickets with. We were next in line. I turned my attention away from the girls and payed the entrance fee. Afterwards, we went back through the double doors to wait for Brooke outside. "Go find a seat," I told Pedra. "I'll be right there." She skipped away. As she did, I saw Brooke coming down the sidewalk.

She was checking her phone. I stood there and waited with my hands in my pockets. There was a cool breeze. When she glanced up and looked in my direction, I held her ticket in the air and called out, "One ticket for B-Brooklyn K. Kestner!" Her eyes snapped to me, and for a moment she looked absolutely horrified.

Riley Trahan


She just...left. I was actually kind of pissed off. I mean, what the fuck was I doing wrong? I said the right things, and I believed them, too. I meant it when I told Carrie I liked her, when I implied that she was just a little different than my usual. She had that...something. That's not cliché at all, Riley. But she was different. That's why it was so hard to just shrug off her sudden departure. Its like she was only pretending to care as I set my soul on the table for her to judge.

I sighed. I knew that sitting here, dramaticizing my problems, and stewing in my thoughts would only make things worse. So I decided to brave the rain and head over to Starbucks. I've never really liked coffee, but I wasn't opposed to smoothies. It would've been crazy to drive the two blocks to the café, so I threw on a jacket, shoved my hands in my pockets, and jogged out the door. It was only drizzling, but by the time I walked into a crowded Starbucks, the shoulders of my jacket were soaked through. I brushed some water droplets out of my hair.

And then I saw Carrie.

She was sitting at a table for two, talking to a blonde girl who kept glancing between us eagerly as if we were the fight of the night. And unless that blonde girl was her mother, Carrie lied to me. She made up an excuse so she could get away from me as fast as possible without hurting my feelings. I was surprised at how upset I was. More sad than angry.

I guess I was staring, because next thing I knew, she was staring back with a classic—and infuriating—"oh shit" look on her face. She said something quickly to the other girl as she got up. She started walking toward me. Her pace quickened when she saw me walk out the door. She might've said my name. I kept walking, immersing myself in the rain once again. I felt a tug on my arm as Carrie caught up to me.

"Riley, wait," she said. I stopped and turned around.

I let a humorless laugh escape from my mouth. "For how long, Carrie? How long do you expect me to wait for you?" I shook my head. It had begun to rain harder. "You're a great girl, and I want you to—I want us to be more than a one night stand. But if you don't want that, then tell me now and save me the trouble."

She looked taken aback that I would put aside my polite filter and actually speak my mind. I was a little taken aback myself.

"All we were was a one night stand. You're the one who wanted to get another round out of me." She spat the words at me.

"That's not true," I said firmly.

Then it was her turn to laugh. "Please," she sneered. "You're full of shit, you know that? Can't you get it through your thick skull that I'm not falling for the player routine anymore? 'Use them and lose them', isn't that your motto?"

"I didn't use you, and you were lost way before I met you," I growled at her.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Carrie yelled at me through the torrent of rain. I shook my head, and started to walk away. "You don't even know what you're talking about—"

I whipped back around to face her. "You won't let yourself love." The words just popped out of my mouth. She looked to be halfway between the snarky place we both just visited and a place where she could hear what I was saying. "I knew it the first time I saw you. You were so focused on not letting your demons out, you forgot to let people in."

All I wanted was for you to let me in.

Isabelle

I tossed and turned in bed all night the previous night. All I could think about was how much I missed my best friend April. She left me without saying goodbye.. She went to London and didn't even care if I knew or not. I woke up with tears in my eyes.

Getting out of bed wasn't the easiest thing to do. At least not today, I sat up and became nauseous. It was a rolling feeling in my stomach.

I missed my mother so much. I looked everywhere and I saw her in this place. My home. I'm not home unless it is with her.

I walked to the kitchen to fix a bowl of cereal to ease my stomach. My period was due today so it was probably just the symptoms getting to me.

Two days later

My pain had grown worse. So bad I went in to the emergency room. They had me fill out some paper work and I sat in the waiting room for 45 mins before the doctor could see me. He took my vitals and had me pee in a cup.

"Do you think there is a possibility that you could be pregnant?" He asked me.

"Definitely not. Why doctor?" I asked. My voice had pure concern ringing through it.

"I need to do some x rays so it is standard procedure for me to ask." He acted like everything was normal so it eased my mind.

Not long after the nurse came and talked to the doctor privately.

He opened my curtain and I knew what he was about to say.

"I'm...I'm not pregnant am I?"

He nodded but didn't give a verbal response. My heart sank and tears fell down my cheeks. I wasn't ready to be a mom. Philip wouldn't be able to handle knowing he had two kids. Not this soon.

"I... I don't want it doctor." I stammered.

He seemed concerned because his eye brows did an arch.

"You will have to go to a clinic to get a procedure done." I knew he didn't like what I had said but he didn't say a word to object.

I was released from the hospital and I set up an appointment with my female doctor. I was ready to get this thing out of me.

My appointment wasn't until the end of the month on the 29th. Until then I will keep this a secret. No one has to know what I did wrong. NO ONE.

I made it home and knew what I had to do.

"It's over." I sent the text and turned my phone off. I needed today to be over.

Philip Masterson

It's over.

It's like I could hear her actually saying it to my face with her wide eyes sneered lips. And the thing way, she never said this to me, she texted it. She texted it. How the fuck do you do that? That's so sick. How do you text someone that you love that you're breaking up? And for what good reason? I need an explanation. I need something. I need something to stop my heart from crushing.

But I knew there was nothing.

I read it over again. It's over.

"Aye, what's up? You sounded bad through tex..." Dafnie started to speak but then couldn't finish. Guess she took a solid look at me.

"Phil?"

Somehow, I couldn't look away from my phone. It was as if her words have swallowed me whole. I felt Dafnie's hands at my waist, pulling me towards her in a side hug. The smell of her new body spray flew by my nose, something with cucumber I believe. Dafnie had new tastes everyday.

"What happened babe?" she asked, her voice raw.

All I did was look up at the wall in front of my and lean the phone towards her. I looked down at her face and saw her red lips open, as if she wanted to speak but didn't have the words.

"This is a prank." She scuffed.

My heart skipped a beat as I retorted, "Why would she do that Daffy? She wouldn't. Who pranks about breakups?"

She pulled away and took another solid look at me.

"Philip. She'd be dumb to dump you - especially like that." She pointed at the phone. "You guys love each other... this makes no sense"

"Tell me about it."

She huffed, unable to focus her attention on me. Her eyes wandered around the room as I just stared at her.

I never really took notice of how blue her eyes actually were. They were like the ocean, a pure light blue that made you just want to jump in. And her lips, always coated in that Taylor Swift red. Her skin wasn't flawless, but it was beautiful, soft and she never wore cover up.

Her eyes finally landed back at mine and instead of looking away, I just continued to stare back. I could tell she was unnerved by the way she started to adjust herself on my bed.

"Phillip..." she was starting to say, but before I could think, I pulled her in and our lips met.

Her hands roamed through my hair and I pulled her onto my lap. Her lips were so soft and she knew how to use her tongue. I could feel her breathing against my face, fast but pleasant. She started to grind on me, moaning against my mouth. I moved from her lips to her neck, licking and sucking onto her sweet skin. She proceeded to moan louder in response. I found my way and slid my hand under her shirt, squeezing her breast and she just proceeded to grind me harder, moaning my name over and over again. I could feel her getting warm and I responded with getting hard.

"Oh Philip, please..." she breathed.

And that's when my phone started ringing next to me. I ignored it, slipping my fingers down her jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping. I pulled at her underwear and before I could get inside, she pulled away.

"Kate is calling you." she said.

Our eyes met and I swallowed hard. I felt my heart stop for a moment. Looking down at my phone, a picture of Kate's boob flashed on my screen. SMOOTH PHILIP WOW, I couldn't have deleted her? I slid my finger across the screen and pressed the phone against my ear.

My breathing was rapid, as was Dafnie's, but I tried to compose myself as my heart raced.

"'Ello?"

"Philip! Heard about the sad news. How... sad...? If you need some cheering up, stop by!" her chipper voice made my ears bleed.

"I don't need to get Chlamydia, but thanks." and I hung up.

I looked at Dafnie, she has not moved one bit. She was still on my lap, just not close enough for me to kiss her without moving. There we were again just staring at each other, me with a boner and her with her flushed cheeks.

"Uh, Phil... I don't think we should do this." She finally said, cutting the tension.

"Yeah, it would've been a huge mistake." I answered.

"What were we even thinking?" She smiled. "We don't even have feelings for each other."

"Yeah, but you're horny and so am I."

She tilted her head like a dog would when they're curious. "Or more like we have sexual tension."

"Wanna resolve it?" I smirked.

Her eyes got wide as she actually thought about it. Next thing I knew she was laughing and jumping off of me, zipping up her pants and adjusting her top.

"Phil, no." she shook her head. "I will not do this to Isabelle... again."

"I can't help that you're a whore."

She spun on her heel and her smile dropped.

"I'm not a whore Philip."

"You were about to sleep with me. You slept with your best friend who at the time had a girlfriend. You fucked Rupert just to fuck. You kind of are." I pointed out.

Her response was the shake of her head and a smirk on her face. I could tell her anger was building up by the way she clenched her hands into fists at her sides. I stood up from my bed, meeting her eye to eye, well... she was shorter so not eye level.

"I slept with Paul after they broke up." She said. "I liked Rupert... I didn't know he was just looking for fun. He used me. And you? You kissed me, not the other way around, and you're single." she tried to defend herself with tears lining her eyes.

"Babe, you're a sex addict." I laughed. "And that's okay. I'm so sorry for calling you a whore... I was angry and didn't mean it."

"What the fuck?" her eyebrows arched. "No,"

"Dude, rethink what you just told me."

"I was used by Rupert. Not a sex addict."

"Did you have feelings for Paul, ever?"

"Yes," she hissed.

The tension grew between us as I stepped closer to her, wanting to pick her up and suck onto her bottom lip.

"Okay, fine. Point taken. But did you ever just want to fuck every guy you saw? Cause god damn, I've wanted to fuck every girl."

"Isn't that normal though?" her voice got softer.

Our eyes met as I licked my lips. She looked down at them as she licked her own lips.

"Babe, that's not normal but that's okay. Being normal is overrated. And now is the time to fuck everyone. So why don't we clear this tension?" I dared to take another step.

"You just wanna fuck cause 'blue balls' are real." She sneered.

"I just wanna fuck you babe."

Colette

The end of July, the wedding was quickly approaching. Just 2 more weeks.

I was frantically calling drivers, caterers, decorators, I was on the phone with the venue, they were trying to rip us off on the price.

I put down my phone, looking online for cheap bridesmaid dresses, the venue problem was eating up the budget.

My phone buzzed again and I lifted it, answering it and immediately speaking, "Mr. McMurray, you will give us the online price for the venue, I don't care if you think you should charge us four times the going rate because we scheduled less than 6 months in advance. If you refuse to comply I assure you, we'd sooner have the wedding in our backyard," I spat, "And not only that, but I will have the richest fashion tycoon in Seattle blacklist your business. Ever heard of the Gates family? You have NOW."

"Ms. Roux? You seem to be talking to the wrong person, I'm calling to ask you about the wedding cake."

I groaned inwardly. "Yes, what about it?"

Jessie walked in just then, bouncing Isaac on her hip. She saw the dress pulled up on the screen in front of me and shook her head. She didn't like it.

"Miss Rochester, I will have to call you back. I'd like to meet with you tomorrow morning to discuss the design and flavors of the cake, if that's okay? We have many different guests coming and I want to make sure there's something for everyone."

"Of course, Ms. Roux, I will see you at 8:15 sharp."

I put the meeting on my iPhone calendar before turning to Jessie,

"You don't like the dress?" I asked.

"It would be too short on the bridesmaids and," she patted my shoulder, "My maid of honor. I'm all for sexy, but I want to make sure it's classy as well."

"Got it," I sighed, going back to the main page and scrolling through the dress options.

"Colette?" she said, sitting down next to me and putting Isaac on the floor to play. He was no longer in the stage where you had to be holding him constantly. He liked to move around, he was now 5 months old and enjoyed crawling around a bit.

"Yes?" I replied, clicking on another dress choice I liked.

"You're stressing yourself out. When I agreed to let you plan my wedding, I didn't realize you would break your back doing so."

I looked at her. "That was like the worst thing you could've said," I said giggling, referring to my awful car accident in which I had legitimately broken my back and ended up paralyzed on half my body. I still walked around on crutches because of it.

Jessie grinned, shaking her head, "You know what I mean," she said, "You need to be focused on physical therapy, Rupert, and having a relaxing summer. I can help plan or, better yet, hire a wedding planner to finish up."

"A wedding planner is so not in the budget." It flew out of my mouth automatically, I was still hard wired to be thinking about the budget, the wedding, everything.

"Budget?" Jessie asked, "I thought my Dad was going to cover whatever Adrian couldn't afford."

I bit my lip, Adrian must not have told her. "This isn't really my place..." I trailed off.

"What isn't really your place?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Adrian is paying for the whole thing himself. He gave me a budget that he asked me to stick to. He didn't say anything about you knowing or not knowing, I just sort of thought that was understood."

"That's nonsense, he knows my Dad would be more than willing..." Jessie sighed, dropping her head in her hands.

"Hey, it's okay. Adrian should be home any minute. In the meantime, I'm just going to stick to the budget, the planning is almost done. I'm going in tomorrow to figure out the cake, your dress is almost done, your next fitting is in two days, after that Mrs. Maye is going to hem, tuck, or loosen whatever needs to be hemmed, tucked or loosened, and your final fitting will take place a week before the wedding. It's cutting it close, but we're pretty safe because it's a custom made dress and Mrs. Maye is very talented. The caterer is scheduled, it will be a nice dinner, tomato bisque to start out with, then a nice chicken dinner and cake and sorbet for dessert. Plus there will be snacks floating around the rest of the time.

The bridesmaid dresses will be ordered as soon as I find one suitable, they'll come in in 4 days, giving us a week and a half for alterations. Once again, cutting it close, but we have the Mayes working on this. Colin said he would alter the bridesmaid dresses as a wedding gift. I just need to straighten some things out with the venue and the barkeep, the minister is scheduled, the decorator and I are meeting tomorrow after I meet with the baker."

Jessie digested this all silently. "What budget did he ask you to stick to?" she asked.

"I'd rather not..."

"Colette please, how much?"

"10 thousand dollars." 10 thousand, for a point of reference, is a good price for a medium sized wedding for someone of the middle class. A small wedding would be about 5-8, a huge wedding would be 15-30. Jessie's wedding would be big, but I had managed to find savings everywhere I could.

Jessie looked at the screen suddenly. "That one," she said, "That one is perfect."

I put in the order for the dress as Jessie walked back to the bedroom, leaving Isaac with me.

James

This summer had been a blast, the week after school let out I went on a cruise for three days. Just to get the hell out of this town, I met some girls... None that were worth getting their number and keeping in contact.

I sighed sitting on my front porch. I texted Isabelle to see if you would talk to me. I don't know what I had done but for the passed few weeks she wouldn't answer my text or calls.

"Iz, tell me what I did wrong." I sent the text.

This time she texted back within three minutes which was a surprise.

"Can we talk? Come to Moms cabin. I just want to stay hidden from everyone."

It wasn't like Iz to lay low from everyone. She was people person and everyone loved her... Some in ways you wouldn't really be happy for. I felt some tension run through my veins and got my keys from the table in the kitchen.

_*_*_*_*_

"Thank you for coming." She was waiting at the door for me before I even pulled up. This cabin was far out from civilization. It used to be a camp for her and her mom to come out to for fun but lately I've noticed this was where she lived. It was crazy knowing she was out here all alone with more than two miles of a drive from the city.

"I need to talk to someone. I trust you and that you wouldn't tell ANYONE my secret James." She looked serious and I just stared. I didn't know she trusted me this much.

"Yeah Iz... Talk to me. I will keep your secret." I regretted the last sentence when it came out of my mouth. What If she was self harming?

"I didn't know what to think when it happened... I.. I still don't James." Tears trailed her eyes. I held her close to me. She was shaking. I never said a word, she didn't need to be pressured.

"I'm... I'm pregnant James." I was shocked. I never expected her to tell me that. I knew I was the first person she ever told especially by the way she was acting.

"What are you going to do? You're keeping it right?" I asked her. She cried even more when I mentioned keeping it.

I kept holding her and she pulled away and sat on the couch arm.

"This is what I am saying. I have a doctors appointment in two weeks. I'm not ready to be a mother and I can't let anyone know this happened to me. Philip would probably go crazy or something... I I don't even know what he would do. I can't disappoint him... Not me of all people."

Her words were those of a crazy person.

"How could you think he would be disappointed in you? It isn't like it is your fault it happened."

Her tears dried up.

"I know... But he has Issac to worry about right now.. I can't do this to him."

I knew there was no changing her mind. I couldn't believe she was going to do it.

_*_*_*_*_*

Once I got home I saw that I still had Philips number.

Hey man, I'm taking a survey on first time parents. What would be your reaction to finding out you had another baby from another girl?

I sent the text to him. I knew I shouldn't have but he wouldn't read that far into the situation.



@Nike

Adrian

I got home from work to find Colette on the floor playing with Isaac.

"My son!" I called out and Isaac looked at me, the biggest grin on his face. His two lower teeth were beginning to poke out of his gums.

"Hi baby boy!" I cooed, lifting him into my arms. "Sorry Cole," I said, "but I missed my little man."

Colette bit her lip, "Um, you might want to talk to Jessie," she said.

"Can it wait a moment? I'd like to spend a bit of time with my son."

"Yeah, she just found out about the budget that's all. I'm sorry, I didn't know she wasn't supposed to find out."

I exhaled, sitting on the couch with Isaac.

"dssssdddim," Isaac gurgled,

I laughed, holding him close, his soft skin against mine. Isaac cooed, his fat arms waving around as he held on to me the best he could.

"It's time for you to go to sleep, isn't it?" I asked him in that high pitched voice people always used to talk to babies, "isn't it?"

"Isn't it?" I said, lifting him up to kiss his belly. Isaac smiled again and I took him over to his crib, changing his diaper and putting him in a fresh onesie.

"I love you kiddo," I said, stroking his cheek and turning on the mobile that hung above his head. It had birds on it, flying around in circles above his head.

He tilted his head up to look at the birds, his bright blue eyes watching in awe as their wings swing to and fro.

I pulled the curtain we had set up around his crib after that, trying to block out as much of the light from the living room as possible.

"Jessie," I called softly down the hall. She was propped up in bed, a book in hand. I read the cover, Wedding Day Dos and Don'ts, How to Make the Most of the Most Special Day of Your Life.

"Cole told me about the budget thing," I said, pulling my shirt and pants off while looking for pajamas in the dresser.

"I thought Dad was going to help." I turned around as she said this, in my boxers, a t shirt in hand.

"Put something on, you're distracting," she said, giving me a half smile. I put the t shirt on, sliding in next to her.

"Your Dad offered to pay for the whole wedding, actually," I said, and she put the book down on her end table.

"Then why not let him?"

"I am going to be your husband," I said, relishing the sound of the word on my lips. It was the first time I'd ever said it that way. "You are going to be my wife, Isaac is my son. It is my job as a man to provide for you. I appreciate your father's help, if there ever was a time where for whatever reason, I couldn't provide for you and Isaac, I would gladly swallow my pride and ask for his help. However, I've been working in he best restaurants in the world since I was 10 years old, I'm 19 now. I made a 30 thousand a year salary at 10 years old and that salary just continued to go up. I saved every penny. I have more than enough to provide."

"I understand you have enough, but I'm not working. I have a baby. I can't let you pay for everything."

"Well, that's going to change. I wanted to talk to you about you potentially getting a part time job and going to some evening classes at the community college."

"What?" she said, "I have a child, I can't-"

our voices were beginning to rise.

"You need to, Jessie. You are capable of so much more than being a stay at home Mom, nothing against women that stay at home to be with their children, that's very admirable. But you need adventure, you need a career."

"I need to be with my son! Maybe when he's older, Adrian, but you can't just-"

It was full on yelling now.

"We cannot ask your father for money. School can wait for now, but you at least need to get a part time job. I just want you to get a shift somewhere for 4-5 hours a day, that's it. Colette is a capable babysitter-"

"I will not raise my son on nannies the way I was raised! He will not be a child with hired help for parents. That's how I was brought up, that's not how I will bring up my son. As wonderful as Colette is, she is not his mother. I am his mother."

Isaac started to cry from the other room, probably awoken from our yelling.

"Oh great," I said, walking into the next room to take care of him.

April

Today was the day I got on the plane to go to London. I didn't tell anyone bye.. Honestly no one probably cared I was leaving. I left my girlfriend and she hasn't talked to me in a few weeks.

Good bye Washington.

I stared at the road and just watched cars pass. Its time for me to get on the plane. I didn't know if I was ever going to come back here.

My phone beeped one last time before I walked through the gate.

I cared. it was Juliette.

She must have meant about the fact I didn't make it to tell her goodbye. Now I felt bad.

I put my phone up and boarded the plane.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

I arrived in London around 2:30 this morning. Walking through the city I managed to find some little dinky hotel for the night. My plans for the days to come? I had no clue.

I threw my stuff on the hotel bed and began looking through it to find a gown to wear so I could take a shower before bed.

I strutted to the bathroom and stripped every piece of clothing off my body. All I could think about was Juliette and what we could do if she was here. I wanted her back but it was too late. I took my phone and took a naked selfie.

I wrote "I wish you were here" and sent the image.



@Gravity

Philip Masterson

"I'm gonna go. I can't do this... you still love Isabelle. You should go try to get her back instead of sleeping with someone else. We don't even have feelings for each other" she paused. "This means nothing."

and Dafnie left. This was a few hours ago and I couldn't stop rethinking what had happened. She was right.

So, so... righ-

My phone 'dinged'. I looked over at it seeing a text from James. Wasn't that Isabelle's friend? How did he have my number? Maybe he knows what's with her.

I picked it up and read the message.

That's odd. A survey question like that? I've never heard of such thing. Shit happens though. Stuff like this has happened. But, I shouldn't be the first person to ask. Unless Isabelle told him some BS and now he thinks I'm some kind of manwhore. Ugh, she wouldn't do that.

How would I react if another girl had my baby? I honestly don't know. Of course I'd be scared... but I'd find a way to make things work.

I didn't send the message yet.

What if he's asking me this because I already got one girl pregnant? So it's possible I'd get another girl pregnant as well? Another fucking kid? I think I learned my lesson after the first time.

But maybe, this might be something else. What if Isabelle got pregnant? What would I do?

I'd love the fuck out of that child.

I'd try my best to make things work. It's not the child's fault, it's our fault we weren't being safe. So I'd do everything to let that child live it's best life. And I'd support the mother any way I could.

That text I sent and placed the phone back down on the table.