I spend my Saturday alone, in my room doing homework, and trying to brainstorm song ideas. I come up with nothing. I sit in my bedroom staring at my computer blankly, all I can do is scroll through YouTube and watch videos of baby's playing with small animals... And I can feel you judging me. Yet again.
I hear my phone buzzing against my desk. When I pick it up, I see Wash U has contacted me via text.
Hey there.
Hiya.
What's up with you?
Blankly staring at my computer, contemplating why on Earth small children playing with kittens is so mesmerizing.
XD adorable.
Why is this so addicting?
IDK, my Achilles heel is makeup tutorials. That shit is addictive as fuck and it shouldn't be.
I knew I wasn't a complete freak.
Oh, always know when you're around me, you're not a complete freak.
Well, now I feel better. What are you doing?
Reading.
Whacha reading?
A little book called 1984.
What's that?
Just... Insane. Absolutely positively bat shit crazy.
Okay... Freak.
;D
XP
;P
o_O
DX
:B
B)
Emotocon conversation?
Si
Lol
IKR?
Question!
Answer!
What time are we meeting tomorrow?
IDK whenever you want I guess.
Hmm...
Hmm... Indeed.
Hush up.
Make me.
Reaches through phone to strangle you.
The fucking hell phone? I thought we were friends!
You thought wrong. I never loved you.
But, what about all those good times we had.
They are only memories now.
What is this terminator?
IDK, what do you want it to be?
Sexy!
Then sexy it is.
Strip for me.
She sends me a picture of pool testing strips.
Oh I'm so hard.
For realzies when are we meeting?
Four?
Got it.
"Jason." Thalia comes to my door, "Dad wants to talk about this week with us."
"Coming." I return.
Gotta go, see you tomorrow.
Bye.
I listen the monotonous way my father address's Thalia and I. Suddenly, as he speaks to us, I feel a nervousness bubble inside of me. I'm meeting Wash U tomorrow... How am I going to get out of the house? Fuck me.
I literally spend the rest of my night trying to think up lies I could tell my father so I can see Wash U.
Sunday comes in a stumbled rush of time.
Wash U sends me directions to the place we'll be meeting at.
I tell my father I'm going to the out for drive. A change of scenery so that I can be inspired to write something. He tells me to be back before ten since it's a school night, and doesn't question me further. I feel a huge weight lifted off my shoulders with his confirmation.
My drive is blissful. Getting out of the house is probably the best thing I could have done. It's always the best thing I can do, living in my house, that is.
I start to get worried when I take a turn and find myself driving into the backwoods.
I call her just to make sure I'm on the right track.
"Hello?" She picks up after the first ring.
"Hey."
"You almost here?"
"Yeah, but I'm on a dirt road."
"Oh good."
I feel relieved, "Really?"
"Yes, have you found that fork in the road I mentioned?"
Just then I see it.
"It's right here."
"Turn right." She says, "I'll be a few feet away from the campsite sign."
"We're going camping?"
"Sort of... You'll see."
I pull into the parking lot. I don't see a Wash U sweater anywhere. I mean, why would I? It's like a hundred degrees out. Still, I realize my only way of finding her has vanished and I'm lucky I still have her on the phone. I hop out of my car slamming the door behind me, "Where are you exactly?"
"I'm waving." I look all around the clearing occupied only by cars and hikers, before seeing a girl. Waving and holding up her phone, she calls to me, "Over here."
I know this is going to sound incredibly weird but I've never really seen her before. I feel like we've only ever talked. Is that bad? I mean, it's not like I haven't looked at her before. I've just never looked at her before. I'm a terrible person, I'll stop while I'm ahead.
We hang up simultaneously before walking toward one another.
I can't believe this is the same girl I met at school. No self consciousness surrounds her. She doesn't feel the need to walk with her head down turned. She looks happy instead of downtrodden. There's a visible bounce in her step and a confidence in her long strides. Most of all she's, smiling a smile that warms your heart.
Her teeth are illuminated in the sun. He lips shimmer with chap stick or lip gloss or something (I'm a guy don't judge me okay? I just know they're pink.). From her smile I then notice the rest of her. Oh my god her skin is glowing copper. She has her hair cut in random layers which hang naturally and thin. Some strands are braided and I can see a few knotted bits. Even with the knots noticeable it doesn't look bad, it looks right, and honestly pretty. She looks like someone who lives in Hollywood, which I didn't at all expect from her. She lives in a hoodie for crying out loud.
She's wearing a turquoise tank top, showing off her shoulders and collar bone, allowing her skin to radiate warmth and glow in the sun. Shorts, and I mean shorts, that accentuate her long smooth looking legs. She has a slender figure if I've ever seen one. Soft curves that make her look like a real life fashion model. She should be photoshopped but she's standing in front of me. Real and flawless, more flawless than any person should be allowed.
She's an absolute knockout. Maybe one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. I'd go so far as to say she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and I live in a city full of beautiful people. (Or at least a suburb thirty minutes away from a city full of beautiful people, but that still counts.)
I wonder if she knows that she's pretty. If that's why she covers up with her Wash U hoodie. I wonder if she'd stop getting beat up if people knew she looked like this. I come to a sad realization, they probably would stop. If they knew she was pretty, they'd stop hurting her. After all who hits a gorgeous girl?
"Hiya." She says.
"Hey." I greet, "This is a pretty shady place to bring someone you've just met."
"Don't worry I'm not here to kidnap you." She chuckles folding her arms. I didn't know she had such small hands. I take notice of her nails which are manicured to match her shirt. Then I see her well proportioned slightly muscular arms.
"That's a relief." I say.
"Come on, we have a destination." She says tapping my arm lightly before leading the way. I follow her off the hiking path into the under brush.
"So how was your Saturday?"
"Eh." She shrugs.
"Same." I respond.
"Sorry your movie was shit."
"Sorry your night was spent in fear."
"You'll never let it go will you?"
"Most likely." I chuckle.
"So, get used to it, right?"
"Bingo."
"Fantastic."
"Hey, you brought it upon yourself."
"I did no such thing."
"You did too."
"No."
"Um, yeah. I have the texts."
"So do I and I said nothing of the kind."
"Fine, you didn't say it, you implied it... But I'm still using it as ammo against you."
"I wouldn't expect any less." She smirks as we break through the trees. Before us there's a beautiful lake that absorbs my attention. I hardly notice the house beside it at first because I'd have never thought water could be pretty, however, this lake is.
The area is completely barren of any other people. Only the sound of birds making their little noises, and a hushed lapping of water at the lake edges fill my ears.
"Here we are." She says with a smile stepping out into the clearing.
"Wow." I say with wide-eyes following her down to the lake's shore.
"Yeah, it was my grandpa's place. I'm the only one who really comes out here though, it's my family's privet property. My dad hardly ever comes out here unless I drag him. So, in essence I have it all to myself."
"It's beautiful." I tell her as we reach the house. It's a one story cottage, you know those enchanted cottages in fairy tales? I'm not kidding, that's exactly how this house looks. Quaint, adorable, straight from a children's book. Complete with a garden in front and chimney coming out the back.
I look around at the transition from grass to sand. I imagine wild flowers grow here in the spring. I think up little dots of yellows, purples, and pinks. With my mind I splatter them across the green canvas of grass.
"I'm glad you agree." She says unlocking the door to the cottage, "You want anything to drink?" She turns to me, holding the door open with her forearm.
"Water?"
"Sure." She says entering the cottage, letting the door close gently behind her. I wait outside, watching the lake sparkle with sunlight. Colors spread across the silky mirror of water infinitely. Beautiful trees hang over the water at random intervals the farther down I look. I can see where the river either ends or begins at the lakes side farthest from where I stand.
I hear the crunch of grass behind me, Wash U stands against the door to prop it open, holding up two iced waters.
"You wanna sit down?" She asks. I sit down on the grass instantly, still observing the lake. Today has already turned out more beautiful than I expected. First Wash U, now this place.
"Alright." She chuckles handing me a glass and sitting beside me.
I slip off my sneakers when I notice she's barefoot. She's digging her toes in the sand, whereas I lay my feet on top of the warm crystal like sand.
"Story time?" She asks with a smile brighter than before.
I return the gesture, "Where do I begin?"
"Like David Copperfield." She says, "I was born."
"My story starts before then." I say.
"Then where does it start?"
"Well..." I look into her eyes. How on earth did I miss her eyes? Those weren't covered under excess clothing. Eye are something we use to communicate, I should have at least noticed her eyes. How did I miss such beautiful eyes? I find myself staring into them, but I can't help it. They keep changing, dancing through a rainbow of colors like the lake before us.
"You can tell me." She nudges my shoulder playfully when I've taken too long to answer. I'm instantly embarrassed to have been caught staring into her eyes, "Who would I tell?"
"I don't know, your dad seems a likely candidate." I return the nudge.
"He won't gossip. He's not like an old lady in a retirement home... Yet."
"Alright. My mom was twenty when she had my older sister... By the way I have an older sister."
She chuckles, "Noted, go on."
"According to my mom, my dad was a different man back then. Loving and always there for her. After my sister was born-"
"What's her name?"
"Who my sister or my mom?"
"Either or both."
"My sister's name is Thalia. My mom's name was Bethany."
"I like the name Thalia..." She says, "Continue."
"Right. After Thalia was born my dad got pretty big in the movie industry. He was a big hit and suddenly had fangirls or whatever." She laughs at this so I laugh with her,
"But he quit when Thalia was about three, claiming he wanted to spend more time with his family. Only, when he stopped acting he became an agent, opened his own company, and was farther away than ever." I pause recalling a little known fact.
"Funny story, my parents were never married so I only have my mom's last name."
She sighs, faking a groan, "Fun facts about Jason Grace."
I wink quickly, getting a snort from Wash U, before continuing, "My mom found out she was expecting me but could never get a hold of my dad long enough to tell him until... hmm... Two weeks before my due date."
"Oh my god." Wash U laughs.
"If I recall from Thalia the conversation went a little like, 'Honey, I'm ho-ly fuck!'
'Thalia can hear you!'
'What did I miss!?'
'Oh, you know, just my entire pregnancy!'
'When? What? How? Mine?'
'When? Halloween. What? A baby. How? Well you can figure that one out on your own. Yours? Yours? Really? Of course it's yours I haven't had time in the past five years for an affair.'
'Why didn't you-'
'I've been trying to tell you for the past eight and a half months!'
'Look don't strain yourself, just take a seat.'
'It's a boy, by the way. If you care.'
'A boy? Really!?'
'His name will be Jason. And if you don't like it tough, Thalia loves it.'
'I love you.'
'You better!' And my dad made a whole huge announcement to the whole world that I was coming and poof I was born."
Wash U looks like she can't breath, "Holy Crap. That is too funny!"
I laugh with her, "It is."
"What happened next? Give me a chapter title."
"Chapter title... My dad turns into a dick wad."
"Go on." She says composing herself.
"So, I was raised by my mom single handedly. Until I was eight. I hadn't seen my dad in about... I'd say two years. Thalia was watching me because at that point she was twelve and responsible or something. My mom went out to pick up something for my dad's visit. But she didn't come home for a couple of hours so Thalia called her cell. Our mom didn't pick up.
"My mom had been hit by a drunk driver. Her car flipped over and she died instantly. A police officer answered her cell, he broke the news right then and there.
"My dad was never really present in either mine or Thalia's lives, so it was really weird to suddenly be living with the man.
"He bought a house in this town so we could still go to school here instead of in the city. It was almost like he was trying too hard to be a dad and be there for us. The older Thalia and I have gotten the more he worries. He became insanely protective. He hardly lets us out of his sight."
"How'd you get here, then?" She asks.
"Well, I told him I needed inspiration for a song. See, he dove head first into his work when my mom died. He made Thalia and I become child stars like he and my mom had been. And now I'm a little worker robot performing tasks for my dad like he's my master or something.
"He's afraid Thalia will turn into our mom. He thinks Thalia's boyfriend is a bad influence, even though the guy could be a lot worse. The only bad thing he does is drink, but he's a college junior so it's almost legal.
"He always thinks one or both of us is the reincarnation of Satan. Ever since Thalia's gotten into college, he's gotten even worse.
"All he cares about is fame and money. A supposed future. He doesn't realize that we're people who have lives and want more than a step by step plan on how to live."
She nods slowly, "Are you and Thalia close?"
"Oh yeah. She's the closest friend I have. She's like my mom and my best friend. She talks to me like I'm a person and not a kid. She cares about my grades and about how I'm feeling. We keep each other sane."
Wash U smiles kindly at my conclusion.
"Your turn."
"I still firmly believe I'll win."
"Shoot Tex." I say sipping my water when my phone vibrates. "Don't shoot." She makes her fingers into a gun while I read the text.
Where the hell are you!?
Sorry Thalia, I'm out right now.
Yeah I know and dad is asking me if you're out with Reyna.
Tell him I'm alone.
Are you?
Yeah.
"Who is it?"
"Thalia." I answer, "And by the way." I show her the picture she sent yesterday of water balancing on her chest, "Why?"
"Because I was bored." She says taking the phone a grinning wickedly, "Why is my name Wash U in your phone?"
"Uh... That's my nickname for you."
Her faces morphs into a cruelly humored expression, "You don't know my name."
"Uh..." She's laughing so I don't feel as bad as I did. I still feel terrible though.
"My god Jason you could have just asked me you know."
"I didn't want to be rude."
She hands me back my phone, "Piper. My name is Piper."
"Piper." I say associating her face with the name. I decide to leave her name as Wash U in my phone. A reminder of her given nickname, "Now, go."
"Alright. Maybe your nickname for me should be Adulterous Love Child." I actually spit some of my water onto the sand. She starts laughing again.
"What!?"
"I'm an affair baby." She says.
"You're proud of this?"
"Hmm... Yes!" She's clearly joking.
"Story time. Now."
"So, both of my parents are pretty famous. My mom is a French actress and my dad is an American actor. They were doing some kind of project together and she fell head over heels for him. They both say the same thing whenever I've asked. They fell mutually in love which, while that's not a good thing, (because adultery) makes me feel a little bit better about my conception."
"Oh my god." I laugh.
"What? It's true."
"Keep going." I wave her off.
She folds her arms as she picks up with the story, "When she went back to her family in France she found out that she was having me.
"She had originally thought that I was her husband's baby. But look at me real quick okay?"
"Um... Why?"
"Because I have pretty dark skin."
"It's more tan than anything." I respond observing the smooth richness of her skin.
"But it's not white." She says. I almost say that she has nice skin but A I don't want her thinking I'm like Hannibal Lecter and B I'm not willing to reenact a scene from Harry Potter at this exact moment for mentioning that she has nice skin.
"Go on."
"My mom is white and blonde. You know, very French looking. And her husband was very pale with dark hair. So when I popped out glistening caramel."
"Oh!" I say realizing what she means now.
"Yeah. He screamed almost as loudly as I did. That's actually where I got my name, because I was louder than a thirty year old man who just found out that his wife had sex with another man, by her having said other man's baby."
"That's awful."
"But funny." She smiles gently.
"But hilarious." I tell her cackling.
"So, this guy is screaming curses and chewing out my mom, getting all kinds of angry. The doctors physically kick him out of the hospital. And my mom is now remembering this guy she fell in love with overseas.
"My mom calls my dad who is absolutely ecstatic to hear from her. Before she can tell him the news a nurse hands me to my mom. According to my dad he knew I was the one crying and he knew I was his without my mom speaking a word. He didn't even ask about her having a baby, he just said, 'That's my kid.'
"My mom claims to this very day her exact words were, 'Yes, and my god she's perfect.'
"They talked it over and decided it'd be best for me to live with my dad since my mom had a marriage to deal with and two other kids at home.
"My dad was more than happy to let me live with him. He actually flew over to France to meet me while he was supposed to be filming. He picked me up from the hospital right there and took me to America.
"When he brought me home he hardly ever left me alone. He took me to work with him no matter what he was filming that day. I'm still fully convinced that I hate scary movies so much because he brought me on the set of a horror film he did once. Anyway, that's my baby story. Questions?"
"Do you keep in contact with your mom?"
"Yes. Part of her deal with my dad is that I get to see her every now and then. Every Christmas we visit her. She comes down for Thanksgiving, even though she doesn't celebrate it, which I think is sweet. She plans my spring breaks which I also spend with her."
"What about her husband?"
"They divorced when I was about a year old."
"You said she has other kids?"
"Oh that's right, they're a pretty big part of my life." She thinks for a moment before speaking, "I have three half siblings. Drew, the oldest, Mitchell, my older brother, and I have a little sister named Lacey. Drew and I don't speak if we can help it. She feels like I ruined her perfect little family. When in reality that would be her mother's fault... Drew and I are... Let's see six years apart, since she just turned twenty three. At this time of the year she's seven years older.
"Mitchell is great. I love him to death, he's sweet and adorable. He's nice to everyone he meets, just about. He's eighteen right now so he's two years older than me.
"Then there's baby Lacey. She's twelve now. She's also Drew and Mitchell's half sister because..." She sighs, which is then followed by a nervous chuckle, "I can't believe I'm saying this to you. Promise not to tell anyone this part especially?"
"I promise." I tell her. She holds out her pinkie. Out of instinct I wrap my own around hers. Her hands are so small compared to mine, and so soft...
"After her divorce, my mom got inseminated and poof baby Lacey was born."
"Nice." I nod, "Wait your mom is French?"
"Yes. And yes I do speak French."
"Say something in French."
After a moment of thought she says, "J'ai des sentiments pour toi."
I let the milky words seep into my ears. I've never heard words quiet so decadent, "What did you say?"
"I said, 'I have spoken something.'" She's lying and I can tell.
I'll ask again later, "Any other juicy secrets?"
"Darn I left my note cards at home." She laughs.
"Ah! Me too." I laugh, "Another question. You were born in France?"
"Yes."
"What part? And what kind of citizenship do you have?"
"I was born in Strasbourg and... Wait you wanna know about my citizenship status?"
"I've never had a friend born outside the US, living in the US. It intrigues me." Well I have Frank but he's Canadian and he doesn't count.
"I have both French and American citizenship."
"You can do that?"
"Yeah." She chuckles, "It's this thing called Duel Citizenship. Since I was born outside the US but my dad is an American citizen I have natural citizenship here."
"That is so fucking cool."
"You're the first person to think that." She laughs.
"That is seriously so fucking cool." I tell her sincerely.
"Any other questions strange child?"
"Let me think..." I ponder the story for a bit, "No."
"Yay!" She chuckles.
I watch her bathe in the warmth of the sun for a moment before deciding to speak up, "We should do this again." I tell her.
She looks surprised, "Really?"
"Yeah. You're an interesting girl with an interesting life. I'd love to learn more about you." I say sincerely.
"Well you're a pretty good storyteller yourself, sir."
"Thank you, madam." I nod.
"Do Sundays work well for you?"
"Yes, they do."
"Then next Sunday. Same time, same place. If you still need me to lead you here just give me a call. I'll make snacks next time!"
"Ooo goodie snacks." I clap my hands together getting her to laugh again.
"Hey, look at that." She nudges me before pointing to the lake, "Sunset." She smiles. I didn't know so many colors existed. We spend a few long moments staring at the sun as it drowns in the glittering lake before us.
"That means I should go." I say, standing up and brushing off my pants.
"Wait." She stands with me, "I have one more question."
I square myself toward her, giving her my undivided attention.
"Are you... Are you ever afraid?"
"Afraid?"
"Are you ever afraid to go home?" I'm taken aback for a moment by her question. It's struck a chord I didn't know I had, it's made me stop to wonder what the tone of her voice means. Her question sends my mind into a tailspin. Is she asking if I get hit? Is she asking to know more about me? Is she asking because she knows what it's like to not want to go home?
"It's not my home." I say hesitantly, "It's a place I live, not a place I love. But yeah. Sometimes I'm afraid to go home. More than I should actually."
"Where do you consider home to be then?"
"... I still haven't found it." I say heading up the hill.
"See you Monday." She calls as I depart.
"See you Monday." I shout back walking to my car.
Sitting in my car, I let my thoughts swirl inside my brain. I think about her story. How I told my own. I love her story. It's funny, yet tragic, but not in excess of either. She's humored and lightened by it. She even seems a bit humbled by all that's happened to her, though by the sounds of it she's privileged. Which I could have guessed just by the school we go to.
She loves her family... Well, most of it anyway. She's bilingual, she's funny, she's smart, she's nice, she's a good listener, she asks insanely insightful questions. She's beautiful, the last thing on my list of things I know about Wash U... Piper. Her name. Her name is one more thing.
She's more than that beauty underneath the piles of clothing she hides beneath. There's no way she's afraid of her looks. She probably knows she's beautiful, but she also knows the power of that beauty. She knows the price she'd pay for being gorgeous and surrounded by teenagers. There's no way she hides for the masses, just for self satisfaction. She hides so they can know the person inside, the girl who hides behind ill-fitted clothes and undone hair.
She wants them to start their list as I have. Stating her qualities first and looks last. That's why she hides. But why does she let them hurt her? That's what baffles me the most. Why does she choose invisibility over making them see her?
Another thought crosses my mind during my lonely drive.
We were so close. So physically close. We were shoving and playing with one another. I can't ignore the fact that there was a nagging thought in the back of my mind that continued to scream kiss her every time she smiled or leaned into my shoulder. But I shouldn't want that... I mean I don't want that. Not after only a few days. I shouldn't want to kiss a girl I've only spoken to a handful of times.
But what if I did and kind of still do?
I get home close to eight o'clock.
When I walk in the door I hear silverware clatter on the table and chairs scoot out as if something major has just happened.
"Jace?" My father calls.
"Yeah dad?"
He comes storming into the main hall, "Where have you been?"
"I just went for a drive."
"Oh, just a drive huh? Then why is it, that Reyna's mother called me around five o'clock this afternoon telling me her daughter was gone?"
"Just a coincidence." I say trying to walk past him.
"Just a coincidence? Just a coincidence?" He pushes me back into the front door.
"Dad, believe me I have no desire to see Reyna." Especially not after today, "I was out driving the entire time. I didn't even know Reyna was out. If I had I would have stayed home."
"And what does that mean?"
"It means I want nothing to do with Reyna."
"Really? Nothing at all?"
"Really."
"Then why have you been texting some unknown number?"
Shit... "What are you talking about?"
"I was looking at our phone usage today and you've been texting someone very consistently in the past few days."
"Dad, seriously?"
"Who is it? Who on Earth are you texting?"
"Dad it's just a guy in my classes, we're working on a project together it's no big deal."
I manage to get out of his grasp.
"No big deal?" He asks as both of us walk into the dinning room. Thalia sits staring at our father and I. Her eyes shine with worry.
"No, it's no big deal."
He roughly grabs my jaw and forces me to look at him, "Really now-"
"Daddy." Thalia speaks up, "Sit down, dinner's getting cold." She has her moments of bravery. I'm thankful for them now.
Our father huffs, releasing his grip and gesturing to table chairs.
We both begrudgingly sit down. I stuff food down my throat so I can escape to my room and pack for the next morning. That, and my father always buys his time. I'm sure to reap his full anger at some point. I just won't know when until it hits me.