DramaQueen17MrsZacharyEfron- I wanted to give you a fitting mention so I guessed using your 'Holy Shitballs' would be the perfect way!
Someone asked me to read their story, who was it?
& thank you for reviews! :D
Ang
CHAPTER 4
And so it came to us heading for the beach. Me and Troy that is. I'm in my bikini, covered with denim hot pants and a white cross back print vest, baseball cap over my head, my curls hanging through the hole in a long ponytail. My lightly tainted skin – from my mother's ethnic side- is being warmed by the sun beaming through the driver's window and Troy actually looks how he promised to be- normal.
He's leaning one elbow on the open window frame, his arm bulging as he rubs his finger over his bottom lip and now I am a little affected by the muscles he has.
Maybe more than a little affected. Guys my age can be built, but this man next to me, he's full grown and powerful with bulk. It's distracting me from breathing. It's distracting me from everything.
"We're here!" I call excitedly, grabbing my beach bag full of towels and sun cream and Frisbee.
"Awesome. Beach babes here I come…" He drawls, making me chuckle.
"You only came for the girls?" I smile incredulously.
He shrugs. "In my line of work it's kinda hard to meet women."
"So you thought you'd use my beach escape for your dating needs?"
"Can't hurt right?"
I watch him in gaped wonder as he walks off, keeping his promise of playing human. He doesn't even check back on me to make sure I'm following, but I do, after a moment of reprise.
"Hey, beautiful…" A surf- dude decides he likes the look of me as I drop my bag and head for the waves, passing the tall, scrawny guy.
"Hi," I smile thinly and hide under the peak of my cap.
"You are insanely hot," he grins, making me blink in surprise.
"Erm…thanks."
"Wait…" He squints. "Aren't you…?"
"Aren't I what?" I ask innocently, knowing he has recognised me now.
"Gabriella Montez?" He checks and I blush awkwardly.
"No, I just look like her," I lie, wanting some peace today.
"Man I have the playboy spread on my wall from that shoot," he muses, making me stiffen in memory. Spread being the right word, although at seventeen, I was stupidly confident and desperate for success and I was the youngest Playboy feature girl. They promised me 'tasteful' they let me call the shots and although inside, I'm secretly proud of how good I looked naked; that shoot has caused me more hate and judgement than anything else I've done so far.
"Good for you." I offer, seeing a shadow fall across my new friend's shoulders.
"Is this guy bothering you?" Troy asks with predictable possessiveness, making me bite my lip from laughing.
"Not really," I smile sweetly as the surf guy walks off, looking back to make sure I'm not his Playboy bunny.
"You ok?" Troy checks, falling back into protective mode quickly and earning an eye roll from me.
"Apparently he has my Playboy shoot on his wall," I relay, sitting in the sand and looking out at the waves, covering my eyes with my sunnies and pressing my lips together.
"You did a Playboy shoot?" Troy looks at me quickly, shocked, and then sits beside me.
"Yeah, go ahead tell me what a stupid-ass thing that was to do. Tell me I'm too young to be sexual and bare my body to the world…" I sigh.
"I wasn't going to say any of those things." He states and I find myself frowning as I look around to him, momentarily surprised.
"You weren't?"
"Nope."
"You're about the only one."
"It's your life." He assures.
"I guess you haven't seen it," I smile in realisation and he turns and grins at me, his aviators hiding his blue eyes that I know are smiling.
"Am I allowed to?"
"It might be best you don't," I counter act.
"That just makes me want to see it more."
"But what if you change your mind about me?" I enquire, full of fear.
"Unlikely."
"Oh right," I nod, knowing what this is about. "You already made up your mind about me and nothing can alter that."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
"It is when you think I'm a spoiled brat who whines because I'm lonely due to something of my own making."
"I don't think that," he argues quietly, his voice soft and sexy and I am wondering where these balls keep coming from in left field.
"Did you take something yesterday? Because you know, since you had that pizza something really weird has happened and an alien has taken over your body- or your mind, or maybe both."
"Actually there is something." He admits.
"Okay…"
"But I don't want to tell you because you'll hate me all over again," he hedges.
"You just did tell me." I argue.
"Because I want to be honest with you and tell you the truth."
"Fine, then do it."
"But let me finish, okay?" He requests and I nod easily while he gives me a disbelieving look.
"Your father called and spoke to me and James and asked us to…be friendly. To spend time with you and make you feel more comfortable."
"Oh, great!" I throw my hands up and stand quickly, peeling off my vest and dumping my shorts while I stride for the water.
"Gabriella! I'm not finished!" He calls after me but I don't care, I don't want to hear anything else he has to say.
I swim into the warm waves and drive my arms through the water, letting my salty tears mix with the sea until I can't hold back any longer and I let the painful sobs erupt from my chest where I hold them.
"Hey!" Troy is striking through the waves after me, catching me quickly. "I told you to let me finish…" He accuses but I'm crying now and I can't stop and after a minute, his arms cage around me in a loose embrace offering support both in the water and emotionally as I clutch my arms around his shoulders and lay my face there, needing body-to-body contact.
His hugs are gold. I feel his arms gently wrap around me, holding me there as the waves bounce us and bump us together and slowly, slowly I regain my composure enough to look him in the face.
"I'm sorry," I tell him honestly.
"The second part of what I had to say was that I was glad your dad had told us to get to know you. Which is why I told you he said that. I wanted you to know about it."
"So today…" I flick my eyes between the two of his. "Was your choice, not my father's?" I check if this is what he is trying to tell me.
"He just gave us permission for this to be okay," he assures.
"And you had this massive change of heart because my father told you it's okay?"
"Yes."
"And if he turns around tomorrow and tells you it's not okay anymore?" I question and I see the flicker of indecision in his eyes.
"Then I should follow his orders."
"Should?" I repeat, amusedly.
"He told us to do whatever you ask…"
"Unless that means ignoring his orders in which case what I want means nothing." I supply for him and he looks at me with sadness as I let go of his strong, attractive body.
"I'm trying my best." He says with a gritty voice.
"I know." I nod and head back for shore, not waiting to find out if he follows me.
/
It's hot. The sun is baking my skin and I flip, browning my already brown skin further, baring my back to the sun.
"Hey, would you like me to rub on sun lotion?" The voice is not Troy's. I silently curse at this but look up all the same to the blonde, curly haired guy smiling at me with a cute dimple.
"No, I'm okay," I sit up facing forward, brushing sand from my hands.
"You look just as amazing in real life as in the magazines," he tells me and I smile thankfully.
"That's very sweet of you to say."
"Do you want to play volley ball with us?" He gestures to the small game of beach volleyball down the sand and I squint, thinking it would be nice to join in but what if my wobbly bits get papped and shown in the ring of horror magazines?
What if I say something that gets quoted wrong?
What if they plain just don't like me?
"Oh, thank you for the invite but I'm saving myself for Frisbee with my play mate when he's back," I smile.
"He's down there with your Frisbee and another player," the blonde guy tells me, pointing to the quiet end of the beach where the rocks begin and I make out Troy playing Frisbee with an obedient dog who has mastered fetch quite well.
As I walk over I watch the collie fly through the air to catch the plastic plate in his teeth, landing with excited enthusiasm and bounding back to Troy with the disc, handing him the item to throw again.
"I see you met the love of your life," I tell him, shielding my eyes from the sun as I lay my bag down at the side and watch him having fun.
"I'm sorry, you were asleep. Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Met another guy." I add conversationally, making him look up.
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"Because I'm famous?" I wonder in return.
"Yeah and that." He mutters but I don't make sense of it.
"So can anyone join this game?"
"I don't know. Sally might get jealous if there's a third player," he teases, something I never though he would be capable of.
I purse my lips. "I'll just leave you to it then…" I comment, looking around for another distraction.
"I'm kidding, Gabriella. Come join in," he motions me over.
"Okay but can you call me Gabi? You sound like my dad when you use my full name."
"Okay…Gabi." He tests the name and I like how he makes it sound. If only he wasn't my bodyguard. If only he wasn't twenty-something and too old to consider me as anything other than the bratty girl he has to watch.
I hold my hand out for the Frisbee and dash back and forth for it, passing it to Sally or Troy, the sun going down on our game as Sally is collected by her owner. I dress back into my shorts and vest, looking out on the sun dappled sea with a big sigh.
"I don't want this day to be over yet."
"How come you didn't choose volleyball with the others?" He asks knowingly and I turn to him, pressing my lips together.
"Because I always worry what might come of it." I admit honestly.
"In the press?"
"It's one thing you watching my ass bounce around this beach; it's quite another being subject to cellulite inspection by strangers."
"From the girl who stripped all for Playboy…"
I tip my head and give him a long look. "Yeah I did. And I don't regret it. But that doesn't mean I don't have hang ups."
"You don't have any flaws to be hung up about!" He scoffs.
"People talk about my thighs because they're big because of the dancing I do on stage…and I know my behind is curvier that I'd like."
"You're seeing yourself through other people's eyes, Gabi," he accuses softly. "Through my eyes, I see nothing wrong."
"Well you would say that. You're paid to," I climb up the beach, shaking my hair out and searching for a hotdog stand, ready to eat and wind down in the magnificent sunset.
"My treat," Troy hands the burger stall vendor a twenty dollar bill as I accept my huge, loaded beef burger with a lick of my lips. He orders the same and we sit and just eat, side by side.
"Would you be friends with me in real life?" I wonder, picking off a piece of my bun.
"This isn't real life?" He wonders in return.
"You know what I mean…"
"I don't know. A twenty six year old guy befriending an eighteen year old girl might be considered strange behaviour by some…"
"You're twenty six?" My eyes fly to him and I'm sure my distraught face is evident to read.
"Yup."
"You look younger," I accuse.
"Why, thank you."
"Don't get sassy," I plead, not knowing how to take this news. There is absolutely no way he is ever going to look at me as anything other than a little girl, it seems obvious to me now. And I was just beginning to like him, too.
"You must have a hundred friends your own age, out partying, living the high life…"
"Yeah, hundreds," I repeat drily.
"Well look, you wouldn't want to hang around with a guy who hardly spends a day at home would you?" He points out.
It's depressing news. All of it. I love my friends, I love my family but I'm missing that person who can make me laugh, make me feel loved and who can kiss me and touch me in the ways I long to be.
And for some insane reason, I don't even know why, I had thought maybe Troy could be that person. I had thought maybe, just maybe he would want that with me too. Only he doesn't. Because all he can see is my age. All he can see is a job, a task, a thing to protect and keep alive.
There will never be anything more.
I curl up my feet and wrap my arms around his, leaning into his strong arm for comfort as I realise I have to make a change.
I don't know what yet; I don't know how, but I can't keep on like I am. I can't keep living in this loneliness.