Another edited chapteeeeeerrrrr!
It had been nearly three weeks since the event I had so inventively dubbed 'The trip to The chocolate factory' and I was liking Seaford more and more each day. I had become close friends with Grace, Kelsey and Mika ever since I had followed up on my plans to go shopping with them two saturdays ago. We had gone to a little place in the mall called Falafel Phil's, owned by Mika's eccentric uncle Phil and his goat Tootsie, who both came to America last year from a little country called Hachmakistan, somewhere in Europe, I think.
Anyway, after ingesting what was probably a dangerously unhealthy amount of greasy food, we went clothes shopping, and that's when they bombarded me with questions; Where am I from, What's my favourite song, do I have a boyfriend, Gucci or Chanel...things like that. I swear Grace nearly had a seizure when I told them that I did karate at the Bobby Wasabi Dojo, and proceeded to demand all the 'juicy details' on Jack, and, to Grace's insistence, Jerry.
I also saw the guys a lot around school, and I found out that karate practice was three nights a week, so I had to lie to my dad and tell him that I had taken up cheerleading to find an excuse for all of my extracurricular outings. Of course, as a result I had to actually join the cheer squad, whose practicing hours were actually during lunch, meaning less food time. Which was sad for me. But at least that way things would be simpler. At least for now. I knew, of course, that I would have to come clean eventually about karate, and I knew that he would be angry at first...and possibly for a long time, but he had to understand that this was my life, and that Karate was an essential part off all that.
I had gone to great lengths to get into that dojo; starting with getting Jerry to forge my dad's signature - the guys already knew all about my predicament - and even dipping in to the trust fund my mother had left for me when she died. She had said that it was for my future, but I couldn't bring myself to feel guilty; karate was my future.
Speaking of karate, my technique was really starting to improve thanks to Rudy, and Jack really helped me out, too. He taught me loads of really useful moves that I could use in a fight, and I was determined to get my black belt as soon as possible. Not just for me, but for the dojo. And maybe just a teensie, weensie bit for Jack. Some needy, insecure part of me literally craved his approval, and I really wanted to make him proud. He was rapidly becoming someone that I couldn't quite picture my life without, and that fact kind of scared me shitless. But it also thrilled me. I'd never really thought that highly of someone other than my parents before, and it was confusingly exited about it. I guess that just goes to prove that I'm even more messed up than I had originally thought.
The afternoon following our little sleepover, he had approached me at school and handed me the sock that I thought I had lost during the night, and he proceeded to call me an 'umpa lumpa', to which I responded by hitting him repeatedly with a sharpie.
Our friendship was a strange one
Anyway, we continued by exchanging time tables, and I was delighted to discover that I shared nearly all my classes with him, including lunch.
Classes that I was surely going to fail if he kept distracting me that is...
"Jack! Give me my notepad! Now!" He always did this. Ever since our first class together as karate buddies, he had always found a way to focus all my attention on him and keep me from studying. Attention whore. He had also made sure to take the seat next to me in every single class. I wasn't sure how, but I suspected it involved bribery. Or maybe threats. He was capable of both.
He smirked, clearly enjoying my agitation.
"What's the matter, Kimmy? Scared that I'll open it and find my name written in hearts? Or worse, a mix of our names? Jack Crawford? Kimberly Brewer? Ooh, I like the sound of that," he joked. The teacher gave us a pointed stare, an expression of 'shut up' written all over his face. Jack and I giggled at that - well okay, I giggled and Jack chuckled. And what a sexy chuckle it was.
Not wanting to unleash the full wrath of Mr. McNellis, I ripped out a piece of paper from his notebook, ignoring his quiet whine of protest and scribbled down a note with my sparkly pen before sliding it over to Jack.
You wish, it read.
I saw him smirk and write down a response of his own, discretely passing it back to me.
No, Kimmy-bear. You wish.
The nerve.
Come on, Jack. Just give me back my notebook. I need to be writing this down. I need to study for the test tomorrow :(
he just smirked and scribbled his reply on the paper.
Well then come back to my place after school and use my notes. My parents won't mind. You know they love you.
It was true. Jack's dad was super relaxed and funny, and it seemed he'd taken a liking to me ever since the first night I stayed over at their house, and the first time I'd met Jack's mom on my second visit to the mansion, she had stuffed my face with cupcakes and offered to take me shopping, treating me like the daughter she never had.
I really loved the Brewers.
I sighed and tore off a new piece of paper.
Jack, as tempting as it sounds you know I can't. I have dinner with my dad's new boss and his family tonight. They're filthy rich, so I have to dress up all fancy as well.
Why couldn't he have worked as a trucker for some redneck hillbilly? We wouldn't have had to dress up for them. And what was I supposed to wear, anyway? The only dress I had belonged to my mom, and I wouldn't have felt right wearing it. It was too soon.
I had told Jack about my mom's death about a week into our friendship, and he had taken it really well. Held me when I cried and everything. Don't get me wrong, I was well on my way to moving on, but going into that much detail, talking about my feelings to someone else...tears were bound to fall.
He seemed thoughtful for a moment.
Well, how about you come over to my place -30 minutes tops- and we can see if my mom has any dresses that you can wear. She won't mind. She never wears half of them.
It did seem like a good idea...
Okay, I'm in. But for the love of all things chocolate-covered, gimme back my notepad!
I was in the middle of handing it to him when Mr. McNellis snatched it out of my hands. Shit.
"Well well well, what do we have here?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
Jack's -at first- shocked expression quickly slipped back into his usual arrogant smirk, as he listened to the professor continue.
"Passing notes, are we? I imagine that it would be quite uncomfortable for the both of you if I was to read this aloud, hmm?"
I was about to explain that there was really nothing interesting to read on that note, but I was cut off by Jack's smooth voice.
"No need for that, sir. We'll gladly tell you what we wrote. Won't we, Kimmy?"
I ignored the fact that he had used that name and nodded my head vigorously, praying to baby buddha that he had a plan. Jack snatched the note out of Mr. Asshole's hands and cleared his throat, before taking on the most ridiculous southern accent I had ever had the misfortune to hear in all of my almost-seventeen years.
"Kimberly Ann Crawford. It has recently come to my attention that you are no longer the skinny little gal that would spend her time frolicking with the animals and running bare-bottomed through the corn fields; but a woman. A woman with hair the color of sweet corn and eyes that could rival those shining lights in the sky. Not to mention your now voluptuous chest and child-baring hips." The whole class erupted into laughter at that comment, some people's gazes even drifting down to my boobs. Perverts. I had to fight the burning blush creeping up to my cheeks; he was going to pay for that later.
"And it would do me the utmost honor if you would agree to let me court you. So, long story short, will you be my girlfriend? Tick 'yes' or 'no'" More laughter resonated across the room, and Jack passed me the note, obviously wanting me to take the lead. Great.
I followed his example and dug deep into my roots, emerging with the thickest texan accent I could muster.
"Why, Jackson, I had no idea. I mean, deep down I had always just assumed that you were gay. But it has become apparent to me, also that you have grown well into your body, with your strong, muscular arms and abs so hard I could grate cheese with them." A chorus of sighs ensued, only mostly from girls. "But despite all of those delicious attributes, I feel obliged to turn your offer down. Because you see, I'm in love with Jerry!"
The whole class erupted in gasps of fake - and real - surprise, as everyone's heads turned to face Jerry Martinez who, hopefully, had caught on to our little Joke.
It seemed, thankfully, that he had, as he then placed a hand over his heart and made a loud, way over-exaggerated gasp of his own.
"Why chica," If I had been drinking water, I would've done the biggest spit-take known to humanity. Jerry had put on the thickest, most atrocious spanish accent that I had ever heard. He sounded like such a pedophile.
"I must admit that I had suspected that you felt an animalistic attraction to me ever since I first met you, but then again; all girls do. I cannot deny that you are a beautiful woman, as well as intelligent and fierce, and maybe in another life we could have made things work," his earnest tone made his speech all the more ridiculous. "But alas, it is not meant to be. For my heart...belongs to Jack!"
At this point, Mr. McNellis was absolutely fuming; you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. Jack was just about to launch into another monologue when he finally broke down.
"THAT'S IT! I've bad more than enough if you kids, I can't take it anymore! You delinquents have driven me past the point of sanity! I QUIT!" And with that, he grabbed a bottle if aspirin from his desk and stormed out if the room, leaving us in an empty classroom.
Gossiping whispers filled the room, teenagers laughing and re-enacting the scene with over-exaggerated gestures, and I turned my head to Jack, both of us communicating the same silent message.
So worth it
"What about this one?" I held up another dress for Jack to see.
Without even looking at it, he nodded way too enthusiastically and gave me a "Yeah, it's perfect, I love it, you should definitely choose that one!" He looked at me with frantic, pleading eyes that almost made me feel sorry for him. But not quite. He deserved it after getting me after-school detention next week. Okay, maybe it was also my fault, but he's the one who started with the whole 1800s declaration of love fiasco. Idiot. But anyway, to punish him I had made sure to be extra picky in my choice of clothing, making him stay and 'help' me choose. This was the twelfth dress. I was having so much fun.
I took one look at his face and cracked up.
"Jack, I was Joking. I mean, look at the dress," it was an old, dusty nightgown that probably dated from Jack's grandmother's era. No idea what it was doing there, of all places, but I had just felt like messing around with Jack. "I mean, it's ancient."
He took a proper look at it this time, and smirked.
"I don't know, Kimmy-bear, I think it suits you; it matches your sense of humor - dull and worn out."
I scowled at the remark and threw the gown at him, letting the dust send him into a coughing fit. Serves him right.
I delved back into the wonderland that was Mrs. Brewer's closet, and rummaged through the racks of dresses in search of the perfect garment for the night's upcoming event. Usually I wasn't such an avid fan of girly clothing, but you would honestly have to be absolutely tasteless not to appreciate Mrs. B's fashion sense.
I let my hand skim along the racks until I came across the dress that I just knew I was going to wear.
It was a strapless number, with a plain black bodice that stopped just above the bellybutton, before continuing onto a mint skirt, covered by a floral lace train that I imagined would leave the front of my legs exposed, but not so much that it would look slutty. It was beautiful.
I emerged from the giant paradise with the dress in hand, and presented it to Jack, who looked like he was about to collapse from boredom in a matter of seconds. When he saw me with the clothing his face lit up, a hopeful gleam in his eyes. God, those ey- Stay focused, Kim!
I held it up next to me, so that he could see the whole length.
"Soooo? What do you think? For real, this time."
He gave it a good look, his head trailing up and down, before letting out a low whistle.
"Woah. Great choice, Kim, I really mean it. I bet you're gonna look stunning tonight. Not that you need the dress to look stunning, that is." He added with that charismatic confidence of his.
It took me a while for my brain to register that he was actually complimenting me, and I couldn't help but blush. I was so crushing on my best friend. Fuck.
"Thanks," I smiled at him, genuinely grateful for his presence. "I just wish you could be there with me. I could use someone there to help me get through a night of boring buisness talk. Yawn."
"Oh, don't worry, I'm sure you'll find some way of amusing yourself." He looked at me with a knowing glint in his eyes, and I couldn't help but wonder what it was that he knew and I didn't.
I was about to ask him that very question, when my eyes landed on the clock near the door.
"Shiiiitttt," I cursed. "I'm late. And I didn't even get to try the dress on! Oh well, I'll just have to hope that it fits. Sorry Jack, gotta go. See you on monday!" And without waiting for a reply, I rushed out the door.
Add a little bit of lipstick aanndd, voilà!
I had just finished applying my make-up for the night, and, all in all, not too shabby. I had made sure not to wear too much, wearing only the slightest bit of mascara and my favorite red lipstick. I had let my hair do its natural thing and fall in loose curls around my shoulders and a little heart-shaped silver pendant rested gently on my collarbone, hanging by a thin chain.
I had been relieved to find that the dress fit beautifully, hugging all my curves and showing iff my slim legs. I wonder if Jack's mom will let me keep it...
"Kim, honey! We're leaving!" I snapped out of my thoughts and quickly sprayed on my favorite papaya scented body spray before grabbing my purse and carefully rushed down the stairs, trying not to fall in my black heels.
I met my dad and little Isabelle, who was dressed in a lovely pink dress, at the door.
"There you are. You look lovely, honey. Both of you. Now let's get in the car before I get fired." I laughed and complied, grabbing on to my sister's hand and making my way over to the car.
Once buckled in and on the road, a question popped into my head. A question that I admittedly should have asked when he gad first gotten his new job.
"Dad, what is it exactly that you do?"
He chuckled, "Well, I work as assistant senior manager for CoCo Candy &Co."
I nodded. Weird name. "Okay, sure...And what exactly does that mean?"
Another chuckle. Way to make me feel stupid. "In a nutshell, it means sitting in an office for hours, listening to old men suggest new ideas and products to keep the company fresh and hot. Even though none of them are all that fresh themselves."
It was my turn to laugh then, happy that my dad had gotten his sense of humor back. It had been a year now and even though he was no where near ready to start dating again, he was getting better, less moping around, more joking around, and I hardly ever heard him cry anymore. Things were going well.
I was moving on, too. Of course I still thought of my mom every single day, and there wasn't a day that passed when I didn't want to tell her about something exiting or funny or sad, but I guess that in the six-month period that she was in the hospital, diagnosed with terminal cancer, I had sort of prepared myself for her impending death. Don't get me wrong, it still hit me pretty hard, but no where near as hard as dad. Call me heartless, but it was the truth. A stray tear slipped out the corner of my eye, thinking about all the good times we shared, and I quickly wiped it away, careful not to smudge the mascara.
Before I knew it, the car came to a stop, and I found myself parked outside a set of very large, very intimidating set if metal gates. Very familiar metal gates...
"Oh my god!"
"Oh my god," Isabelle imitated me from the back seat, giggling like a little girl...which she admittedly was.
"What is it, honey?" Dad rolled down his window, pressing the buzzer.
"Dad, is your boss Mr. Brewer by any chance?" Please say no, please say no, please say that this is just a pit stop to pick up some of Mrs. B's homemade cupcakes...
He looked like he was trying his best to keep an oblivious expression on his face, but my death glare worked its magic once again and in a matter of seconds he broke down, giving me a guilty look.
"Sorry, honey. I would have told you sooner, but your friend Jack insisted that you not know. I think he just wanted to surprise you. And, knowing how much you were dreading coming with me tonight," I opened my mouth to protest, but he gave me a look that said 'don't bother denying it, I know it's true'. He continued.
"I figured that it would be a nice surprise. Also, I thought that if you knew that you were just going to see the Brewers, you wouldn't have put half as much effort as you did into looking nice. Knowing you, you'd probably have come in a tracksuit."
Hmmm...he did have a point, there. But still, this was bad. Really bad. Jack's parents knew about my karate lessons. They had no idea that I was lying to my dad, what if they suddenly brought it up? My Dad would lock me in my room and ground me til I was thirty. Oh, shit I was in trouble.
"Yeah, you're probably right about that," I tried my best not to show my worry. After all, what answer could I give him if he asked about it? 'Sorry dad, I'm just worried that my plan to deceive you all along is about to fall to pieces. It's all good though, I'm perfectly fine with being a friendless recluse'?
Yeah, I think not.
"Okay, well as long as you're not mad."
No, but I think that I might be going mad.
By then the gates had already buzzed open, and my dad was steering the car up the long driveway, finally bringing it to a halt just outside the house I considered my second home.
It was safe to say that by then I was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack, and I was seriously considering passing out, so that I wouldn't have to endure a whole evening of this madness.
I was in way over my head.
As my father knocked on the door, I had started contemplating ways in which to kill my so-called best friend. He was in for a world of pain. I was thinking maybe with a baseball bat, or perhaps even with a butter knife.
But of all the ways I had planned to greet him, I certainly had not envisaged it going like this.
The door was suddenly swung open, and on the other side, standing in the doorway, was none other than Jackson Brewer. In a fucking tux.
I think I just drooled. Sweet mother of-
"Hello sir, hi Kim, Welcome," he smirked. "Please, come in."
I was in for one hell of a night.
A night that I have finally gotten around to writing! So go read it!
But not before posting a REVIEW!
Pwease?
-CCC