After this morning's tearful events Kirsten had decided she needed a bit of retail therapy. As she had pulled into the exclusive parking lot of Balboa Island she had recognised at least seven of the various BMW's and Merc's parked in the bays.
Holding the steering wheel tightly she had weighed up her options in her head – carry on with her shopping and brave the awkward glances or whispered comments the Newpsies passed (or worse the inevitable member of the elite that Julie Cooper had not reminded who talked incessantly at her while she forces a tight grin)? Or turn around and wallow in her own grief beneath day time talk shows and her favourite white?
Her mind was made instantly as she watched a blonde teenage boy run effortlessly in to the mall, no doubt late for his girlfriend, Swinging around she headed out pf the gates and onto the highway – there were other stores in America, Newport beach was not the b-all and end-all!
She had driven for over an hour, maybe touching 90 minutes before she turned off spotting the familiar warehouse building that housed the ability to make a serious dent in her credit card. Parking up she jumped out clutching her bag to her chest, she lightened at the though of being, for once, a complete stranger to all.
The day had gone well as well as an unplanned shopping trip could. To her surprise the mall had contained a few quality shops and she had even managed to pick out some new shoes to match her dress for this year's Cotillion Ball. To appease the mood in the house she had also made stops to various gaming stores for Seth and picked sandy out some new board shorts.
Finally, when she felt all shopped out, she had gathered together her mountain of bags and began to heave them out to her car. She had to give Balboa Island some credit – it had some good points – the valets being one of them!
In her day dream she had failed to notice a large group of teen boys making their way boisterously toward her location. Before it could be avoided a medium sized teen with some weight behind him slammed into her shoulder and knocked several bags from her straining fingers.
Caught off guard she veered to her left then spun, falling to the floor in an undignified heap.
To her embarrassment she heard laughter floating through the air and looked up to see the group of teens standing where her bags lay, a pair of garish orange and white shorts in the hands of the teen that had knocked her down.
"Hey dude! These are so your colour!" The taller hooded teen called as he threw Sandy's gift across to another of the group, this time a smaller stockier well built boy of Latino origin.
Kirsten turned her eyes to the floor and began to gather herself and the bags up.
"Right guys, enough!"
A quiet yet authoritative voice caught her ear and she looked up to see the youngest of the group make his way from the back of the back.
Snatching the shorts form the leader's hands the young boy stepped forward, lowering himself to Kirsten's level. Catching the brown bag in his left hand he replaced the shorts into the bag and extended his hand to her.
"Sorry about that ma'am." The blonde teen gripped Kirsten's elbow tightly, but just enough to support her till she was back on her feet.
His attention was recaptured by his friends as the eldest one, the one who had spoken previously, snorted and shoved a hand forward. Catching the boy square in the back he tipped him off balance, "Jeez L.B. – you got a thing for older women of what?"
The young blond didn't falter as the blow landed but turned effortlessly on his heels swiftly landing a return blow of his own on the scruffy teen's upper arm.
"Shurrup!" He growled dangerously.
The drama resolved the gang of teens moved off toward the centre of the mall.
Kirsten stood.
Frozen.
Rooted to the spot.
For what seemed like an eternity she stared at the disappearing heads of the boys before one word escaped her lips.
"Jacob".
