A/N: Well, I AM finishing this story. I'm going to only do this story until I get done cuz this is just taking so long. But I finally know what I'll do. Either way, here's what I am now considering Part 2 of Forgetting the Plunge.
Chapter 9:
Winnie flipped her long auburn hair at me. Her green eyes both sad and forgiving. She wiggled her fingers at me. Then she started walking over. I turn to look behind me. There was Kylie. Her soft brown eyes intelligent and contemplative. She smiled serenely at me and gracefully came toward me. My two forever loves on either side. They closed in, coming closer and closer. Suddenly I transported to an on looking perspective. They walked together and stopped opposite one another. They both looked at me and gave me wide smiles. Winnie winked. Kylie nodded. Then they pulled their palms against each other and everything was encompassed in a blinding white.
I sat up in bed. I tried to blink my eyes, but they stuck with the salt of tears shed in the night. I'm turning into such a sissy. I need to grill out or hang with my father watching the game and drinking beer… God, that'd be even worse. I shook my head and turned to my drawers, resolving to read and think later.
I slid into a t-shirt and jeans- both paint splattered and crazy. I opened the door, hoping Mom had fixed the squeaking hinges. She hadn't. I cringed at the seemingly loud sound in the quiet of early morning. I heard nothing. My parents weren't even up. It must have been extremely early, but the sun still illuminated the whole house through filmy white curtains. I creaked down the stairs hurriedly, not daring to stop and look at the pictures. I grabbed an ever-present Pop Tart (even then when I had not visited in years, they were still well-stocked) and made my escape out the back door, black and white composition book in hand. I shimmied through the tiny garage side door (like my father, I am very tall) and flung junk around until I found a large quilt.
I hopped in my truck and sped towards the scene of the crime- the place where Winnie and I had shared our first kiss together. I pulled through the driveway behind the school and next too the copse of bright spring green trees. I fanned out the quilt and settled in to read the rest of the book. Surprisingly, there were very few entries left. Winnie had been more into her music than really writing, let alone about herself.
December 10, 2009
So I'm on a plane- to Wyoming. How random is that? Not really. It was Thanksgiving. We were all just being real quiet, eating our dinners and not acknowledging our problems- like always. Then Dad just cleared his voice and handed me this envelope. I was thinking it's like some card for Thanksgiving saying how thankful they are for the gift that is me and all that crap, right? But, no. I pulled out this plane ticket, a pamphlet for Planned Parenthood, a map of some backcountry town in Wyoming, and a letter from my aunt, who I haven't seen since I was like six.
Here's what the letter said:
Dear Winnie,
I can't wiat for you to come visit me. It'll be so much fun! The ranch is great. You'll love it here. Write more later. Call anytime.
Love,
Ivy
I just stared at them in their almost matching country club outfits. Dad's in a white polo and tucked khakis. His balding hair was gelled into a slightly thinner and less full Elvis Presley bouffant impersonation. Mom was also wearing a white polo shirt and khaki skirt that was so short it should've been illegal for a woman of her age to wear. Her dyed reddish brown hair (made to look like mine, unlike her own salt and pepper would-be dark brown) was gelled into a bun in the back of her head, accentuating her deep forehead wrinkles.
He cleared his voice again and says, "So this is what we've decided:" I cut him off, "You mean what you and Mom decided without me?" He just continued, "You're going to go live with your aunt until Christmas. In that time we expect you to get an abortion, get your act together, and come back like nothing has happened. Ok?" I stared, shell shocked. Then I nodded and excused myself because that's what we do, us Zains. We don't feel, or at least we don't ACT like we feel.
So now I'm on a plane. To Wyoming. And I just connected to Facebook over my phone. And Ryan's already changed his status from "in a relationship" to "it's complicated" and finally to "single." My parents have abandoned me for an eccentric twenty-seven year old aunt. And I'm seventeen going on eighteen and going to have a baby. This is the part of the phrase, "When the shit hits the fan…" I wonder when I get to get over it all.
December 11, 2009
So here's the thing. Aunt Ivy has flaming red hair and ice blue eyes. She gentles foals during the day and sings at a local bar at night. She basically leaves me alone. So far she doesn't seem too bad. And here's the other thing. She's going to teach me how to ride. I'm getting ahead of myself.
So I got off the plane and followed the Map Quest directions to her house. Wyoming is rocky and mountainous, but besides some forests there are no cities, no stores, and no people. I knew that I wasn't going to be in like NYC or anything, but I did expect the population to be more than three thousand people in a hundred square mile area. I came to a large ranch. My aunt came out, wiping here hinds on a dirty towel. All of Wyoming was just one big dust bowl. She came up and hugged me, her out of control long red curly hair restrained in a pony tail. It tickled my face as she held me close to her. She smelled like pine needles, rosemary, and lavender. I smelled like airplane food. She said in a western accent I was unfamiliar with, "Well, Hon. Welcome to Wyoming, land of the free and home of the brave. I hope you like it here. I sure know I do."
She showed me around, and I unpacked. Then I went down to watch her work. She not only broke foals, but also tamed and sold the wild mustangs. She kept a herd that ran wild through the countryside, knowing that every morning she'd drive them back home with Integrity, her lovely mare. I watched her drive them home, and it was beautiful.
I explored the property. I read a bit up in the hayloft. Then she took me to her show. She was fabulous. I almost feel like I'll be rooming with a friend, not a legal guardian. We had fun. I think I might like it here…
And another thing. I don't want to kill this baby. I don't want it, but I don't want its death. How do I tell her that?
December 18, 2009
I wrote Ryan a letter. I hope he doesn't reply. He better not. TOO MUCH PAIN.
December 25, 2009
So I told Ivy a couple weeks ago. She just shrugged and grinned. She laughed, "I figured you bail. You're too much like me." I shook my head. Ivy is who I WANT to be in a couple years, not who I will be. Anyways, Mom and Dad called. Ivy and I have decided to not tell them about having it- too much drama, or should I say un-drama? So I just said that I want to wait a couple more months- maybe until May? Truth is, I was lying earlier. What happened with Ryan? It did, only it was more like Septemberish/ Octoberish. I know I'm supposed to be totally honest with you, but I told my parents and you that late because my mom is a great snooper and my whoriness is hard to admit, even to myself.
Ivy said I could stay. My parents agreed. I'm staying on one condition (from Ivy weirdly enough): I have to see a therapist every week. So far I've had two sessions or so. I've been thinking about Ryan, and you know what? I'm finding it so much easier without him than with him. Rena (Psyche Doc) has been asking me about him and his friends. I remember one of them who was always really nice- Kai Armstrong. He's sorta quiet, but in a strong observing way. He seems really deep, not just pretty in his dirty blonde messy hair and contemplative hazel eyes. He wears glasses, but in a geek sheek way. He was always watching me- watching out for me… I wonder what he's up to now-a-days?
I lay back with a huge sigh. Winnie and Kylie were two very different girls. Kylie was analytical and perceptive. Winnie was passionate and artistic. How could I have fallen for two totally different girls? That's the thing. I think I was looking for Winnie's exact opposite- someone who wouldn't bring back the aching endemic pain. I pulled out my phone and checked my email. One from Facebook and one from Kylie. The first said that Kylie had blocked me. The second?
~Kai
Let's make this a clean break- no more emotions. You'll get on with your life, and I'll get on with mine. Best wishes for the future.
~Kylie
PS. I'm packing your stuff as I write this. It'll be there soon.
I sighed and shook my head. That's what we needed- a clean break. Our relationship had been traumatic. There was no give or take. No protective urges. But I had loved her. I know that, but in a different way than Winnie. Different and yet the same. I rolled my eyes at my cowardice and shyness. Back to Winnie.
