Day 5 BF

I breathed a sigh of relief when Clotile showed up to school today wearing a relatively normal looking, if very sexy, red stretchy square neck T-shirt and a pair of jeans that were well worn, but looked comfortable. I could take her home to Mom in this. Jackson was dressed almost like yesterday, scuffed boots, worn jeans, and a tight dark green T-shirt. We've talked in homeroom and Jackson agreed to drive her to my house after school and stay for a few hours to study today. So now, on top of him staring at me for hours today, I'll actually need to talk to him and interact with him after school. At least Clotile will be there. Maybe that will help him keep things tame.

But I swear, if she has to get up to use the restroom, I'm leaving to go with her! I'll wait in my room for my turn. We're girls and we go the the restroom in packs. It's what we do. I don't care if it looks weird. I'm not normal. They'll figure it out sooner or later. May as well be sooner in small doses.

Jackson hadn't bothered me again during our other classes…but he'd stared at me during all of them. Fabulous. It's lunchtime now and Mel and I were lying out on a blanket in a sunny spot in Eden Courtyard, sleeves and skirts rolled up. I'd talked briefly with Clotile to be friendly, then headed over to join Mel when Clotile seemed inclined to stay with her guys.

All around us roses and gardenias bloomed. A marble fountain gurgled. Brand and Spencer were playing a pickup game in the adjoining quad with the other boys, laughing in the sun.

And Jackson Deveaux?

He was loitering just outside our courtyard with the other Cajuns, sipping from his flask while the rest smoked. And he was staring at me. Of course. His new hobby. Sigh.

I was doing what I'd done all day yesterday and most of today when he'd done that. Ignoring him. Ok. I didn't always ignore him. Sometimes I stared back, wondering why he stared at me. Weren't staring contests left behind in elementary school? Apparently not. There was just so much to look at.

Why did I care? I had a boyfriend!

I exhaled. I was trying to relax. Trying and failing. I'd been on edge since my last nightmare about the red witch. In each one, I seemed to be present with her, watching from a short distance away, forced to watch her evil deeds. Last night, she'd been in a beautiful golden field, surrounded by cloaked people, all on their knees, bowing their heads.

Laughing at them, she'd cast bloody grain before them, demanding they eat it or she'd slice their flish to ribbons and choke them in vine. She'd bared her claws that had looked like rose thorns. Her victims had wept for mercy. She'd had none. I'd been forced to watch…flayed skin really did look like ribbons.

I shuddered in the bright, warm sunshine and turned to Mel for a distraction, but she had her ear buds in, singing to angry rock music. She loved to sing, it was a shame that she couldn't carry a turn in a bucket, but I loved that she didn't care and sang anyway. I loved my Sister from another Mister. She could look stunning with the right make up, bur right now, she was cute and comical. We'd been best friends since kindergarten, when she'd beat up a little punk kid who had kicked my shins, demanding, "Wath he mething with you?" lisping through her missing two front teeth. She'd totally handed him his ass.

Now she leaned up on her elbows, and pulled out her earbuds with a frown. "Okay, nobody's ever accused me of being perceptive or anything, but even I can feel that Cajun staring at you."

"Imagine having three classes with him." And studying at your home with him after school. I didn't tell her this. Me and my secrets lately.

I sat up, twisting my hair into a knot, and risked a glance to the side. Yet again, I found myself in his line of sight. He was sitting atop a metal table, scuffed biker boots on the attached bench, with his friends gathered around him. Jackson's elbows were on his knees and his gaze was fixed steadily on me. Clotile leaned in to murmer to him occasionally and the others all spoke in French, Jackson included, regardless of where his eyes were.

"So what are you going to do about Brandon's hymen safari?"

"Is it crazy if I don't want to do it with Brandon?"

"Not necessarily. Depends on the reason."

"It's just. When I think about sex with him, I don't feel excited. I feel meh. And I can't help but think that if that's how I feel, than that's what the experience will be. And I don't want my first time to be meh. I want it to be something I'll treasure. Not something I did because I was pressured into it. You know?"

"Ok. I totally hear you. And that's a really good reason. But on the other hand Brandon's 18. He's been expecting this from what you've told me. Do you think you might loose him if you don't do this, and is that something you are going to be ok with?"

"I might lose him. I might not. But I've been thinking lately that I might be better off letting him go. I've got a lot going on in my life and I'm having trouble coping. Maybe I need to simplify. Maybe it would be less drama if I let him go now, while things are good, then later before he gets angry over me saying no."

"What?!" She shrieked.

Yeah, I knew that sounded like it was crazy. I'd kept him on the hook all summer. We were finally back together and I was letting him go now why? We were so perfect together on the surface that most anyone wouldn't understand why breaking up wouldn't make sense.

"I know. It sounds a little nuts, but I've not been sleeping well, I've been having horrid nightmares, I've been feeling so much pressure about letting him be my first after my birthday, when I feel so uncertain about taking that step with him at all, and it's just, something gotta give!"

"Well, look, just don't say anything for now. Put him off for a while. We still have half an hour of lunch left. Put your head down and take a rest. I'll make sure you're up before class. Ok?"

"You're the best Mel."

She patted my back and took off as I lay my head down and drifted off. The roses reminded me of Gran's rose garden at Haven. She'd planted it beneath one of the windmill water pumps. That reminded me of the time when I was eight when she took me to get ice cream. It was a hot Louisiana summer day. I remember thinking it must be the best ice cream in the state because we drove and drove…

I smiled. The roses smelled so good. But then I frowned, they smelled so strong, was someone holding one next to my nose? I peeked my eyes open, blinking in confusion.

Two rose stalks had stretched toward me, delicate pink blooms on either side of my head. As I watched, dumbstruck, they inched closer to my face, to touch my cheeks.

First reaction, run screaming. Second reaction, this was my chance to test and see if my plants were delusions, or reality. I slowly reached my hand out and grasped the stem behind one of the roses. Carefully I broke the stem, minding the thorns. Once I had laid that one on the blanket beside me, I broke off the other one too. A thorn pricked me this time and my finger bled briefly. I stuck it in my mouth. The long stalks of the rose bush receded back into the bush as I sucked on my finger, leaving the two fragrant perfect roses on the blanket with me. I trimmed the thorns off the stems and stuck one behind my ear, grasping the other with my hand. I laid my head back on my arm, staring at the rose. Was it real?

Mel came down to the blanket a few minutes later. "Hey Evie. Did you pick some roses? I didn't see you move?"

"Um, not really. When I opened my eyes, they were on the blanket next to me. Here." I gave here the one in my hand. I lay on my side and slid my hand along the blanket to hide the trembling, beyond relieved. The roses were real! Plants really did like me! I wasn't delusional. It was real! I beamed at her.

"Aww, thanks! Do you have a secret admirer? Brandon didn't give it to you. He was over there playing ball the whole time."

I shrugged and picked up my bag, walking into the building with her.

If the plants liking me thing was real, then what did that mean about the visions and my dreams?

That afternoon after school, I put the cookie dough on parchment paper covered cookie sheet and in the oven, then I laid grapes, carrots, crackers, cheese cubes on a serving plate. I set the tray and glasses, plates and napkins on the table. I checked the cookies by the light obsessively. I couldn't cook or bake. Not really. Mom had helped me make the cookie dough. She'd written down the baking directions, telling me parchment paper was the key and I had to make sure the cookies were just a little brown and I could smell them in the air. When the cookies were done and the smell of chocolate chip cookie with extra vanilla goodness filled the air, I heard the sound of Jack's bike coming down the drive. I set the tray on the range to cool and walked out to greet them, hoping I hadn't screwed them up.

Having been around Cajuns on the farm and my grandmother having taken me to visit Cajuns across the basin when I was little, I knew a little something about the culture. Hospitality and welcome meant food. Southern hospitality and welcome also meant food. So I'd made a snack tray for the study group.

That wouldn't have been so bad if it was just Clotile, but Jackson was coming too. The boy who'd been staring at me non stop for two days now and who had ogled my ass. And I think I might have figured out what my problem was with my boyfriend…which just make my problem with Brandon and therefore my problem with Jackson 20 times worse.

See, the other day on our way from home room to English, one of the other boys came into home room to escort Clotile. When that happened, Jackson took my bag, put his hand on the small of my back, and shepherded me out of the classroom. He didn't touch me in the halls, just walked beside me, carrying my bag, giving me a dark look the one time I tried to take it back. When we reached English, he put his hand on my back again, guiding me, instead of to the desk I'd favored last time, to a window seat farther back, next to last. He put my bag down next to the desk he'd chosen for me, and sat behind me, acting for all the world as though he'd done absolutely nothing unusual at all!

But I was a mess inside! A riot of sensations! That one touch may as well have been a hot kiss considering how much it stirred me up. And when I sat there in English, barely hearing what the teacher was talking about, I realized what my meh problem with Brandon was and what Jackson had been talking about when he'd mentioned the Chemistry thing on the first day.

So now I had a huge problem. And I was freaking out about it. So bad I'd been nearly shaking when Jackson had gotten near me the rest of the day. I don't know if he sensed it or what…yeah, he probably sensed it. As much as he stared at me, and considering the fact that I was staring out the window when he sat behind me in History, our last class, and hadn't even noticed him, then he'd touched my hair and I'd nearly screamed and jumped out of my chair…

"Calme-toi fille." -Calm down girl. He'd said softly, his hands held out and away.

"Yeah," I thought. "He probably know's something up."

So, now I was nervous. And by nervous I mean my hands were shaking so bad, I'd dropped one of the glasses and had to clean it up, then I'd cut my hand and bled everywhere so then I'd had to clean that up and put a band-aid on my finger. Then I'd dropped the grapes on the floor and rewashed them thoroughly because who knew what kind of germs were on the floor. Which made the band-aid fall off so I had to put a new one on. In short, I was a total nervous wreck. So once I finally got all that served and on the table, my hands were still shaking.

Mom came into the kitchen. "Evie, are you ok? You're looking a little…off."

Oh I'm off alright! "Yeah, I'm ok, just kinda nervous, you know? I want everything to go well. I want them to want to come back…um, I broke one of the glasses. Sorry about that."

"Oh, that's alright. Don't worry about it. It looks like you cleaned it up already. Are you alright?"

"Fine. Um, I think I'll go walk off some of my energy, alright? Wait for them outside."

"Fine honey. It will be good to have more people in this big house. It's so quiet with just the two of us." She got that look in her eyes then. When she was missing Dad. She told me I was a lot like him. Not so much since I got back from CLC and since the visions and such, but before then. Full of laughter and kindness. I held onto that, not remembering anything else about him since he'd died when I was two. She seemed to shake herself a bit then said, "I'll be around. I'll be making plenty for supper, please tell them they're more than welcome to stay if they'd like, alright?"

"Sure. I'll extend the invitation." Cajun hospitality also suggested Mom would press them to take home leftovers, telling them there was no way the two of us would be able to finish such a big meal and it would just go to waste. Watching her pull four chicken breasts and two large sausages out of grocery bags, I had a feeling, this was exactly what she had in mind.

I walked outside to the front porch and wrapped my arms around one of the columns, looking out over the sugar cane. Haven house was an old and grand twenty-two room mansion, fronted by twelve stately columns. The wood siding was of the lightest cream, the hurricane shutters were a dark forest green, these colors had remained unchanged since it had originally been built for my great-great-great-great-grandmother.

Twelve massive oak trees encircled the structure, their sprawling limbs growing together in places, like hundred-ton hydras trapping prey. The locals thought Haven House looked haunted. When the conditions were right and it was bathed in fog, I had to admit, that was fair. Looked normal enough now though, which was good, as I was expecting company.

What would the Cajun kids from across the levee think of all this? I didn't want to think about it. When the farm was being worked and we had Cajuns in to help, we had food tables out in the fields, not inside Haven House. This was probably a practically, since I didn't think everyone would fit inside.

I walked by a row of canes, letting my hand touch the leaves, to let my tension flow out, and let them soothe me. I'd dressed down after school, a plain but nice T-shirt and jean shorts, wanting to fit in with Clotile, to make her feel comfortable.

Last night, when I'd woke from a nightmare, I'd organized my closet, moving some clothes, shirts, shorts, a couple jeans, dresses and skirts I thought she might like out into the room. Then I'd panicked thinking, what if she doesn't want them? She has pride. She might not be interested. But she might have fun dressing up…

So I'd moved them to a spare room down stairs by where we'd be studying. I figured if she was interested, she could look at them while Jack and I worked on our common subjects. If not, she could do her other homework while we did our common homework. No harm, no foul. I even put a duffel in there so she'd have something to stuff clothes in if she wanted some of them to take with her.

I heard the motorcycle in the distance. Point one in favor of motorcycles. They gave you time to mentally prepare for you guest's arrival.

Walking through the crops and getting a little lost in them calmed me down, but I'd only been there for perhaps five minutes when I heard the motorcycle coming. My heartbeat kicked back up and I gripped the cane stalks beside me. Even the comforting grips of the leaves couldn't calm my racing heart.

They pulled up to the house as I left the cane fields, removing their helmets. 4:30.

My heart was pounding like a race horse. I felt like a marionette whose strings were tangle as I tripped up the steps I'd walked up a thousand times before. When Jackson grabbed my arm to steady me, and helped me back up, I almost stopped breathing. He just gave me that rakish grin, put a hand on my back, saying, "Easy, Evie."

Clotile giggled at me, and I gave her a sheepish grin. When we got to the top of the steps Jackson opened the door for us, Gentleman!, and I said, "I've set us up at the kitchen table over here." We walked over and put our stuff down and began unpacking, though I saw their eyes light on the food happily I was pleased to note.

"Mom's making supper for plenty if you'd both like to stay you'd be more than welcome. But if you can't, maybe you could take some home because otherwise we'll be eating whatever she's made for about a week." I said on a laugh.

They looked surprised but pleased, Clotile looked to Jackson as he was the deciding factor. Jackson chuckled a little about the 'eating it for a week' comment him being a boy who could probably eat three times what I could. "I think we could stay and help you out." he teased.

"Great! Mom'll be thrilled!"

I almost moved us to the dining room when mom started working in the kitchen but thought better of it. She was right, Haven was too quiet. She'd enjoy the company while she cooked, even if we were only talking among ourselves, she'd enjoy listening. I didn't really mind. It would keep Jackson's comments less flirty I hoped. And if Clotile started trying on my clothes, the room I'd put them in, and the half bath if anyone needed it, were both closer to the kitchen. I showed them where the facilities were and we got to work.

Studying went Great! Better than expected! Clotile and I started with math. Jackson got up and went to meet Mom in the kitchen. I think wanted to check out what we were having for supper and ended up helping her make it which she probably loved! Oh, yeah. He'll be coming back over now. She was laughing up a storm in there with him. Mom had a nice laugh. So did Jackson, though his were more chuckles.

Clotile was pretty smart and we buzzed through Math pretty quickly. So while Jackson was in the kitchen, it was time to address the clothes issue, as diplomatically as possible.

"Um, Clotile?" I said quietly, nearly whispering.

"Ouais?" -Yeah She whispered back.

"So, I wanted to mention something to you, but I wasn't sure…So here's the thing. I like you for you, ok? You know that right?"

She gave me a nod and a smile so I continued.

"That being said, I know some of the girls at school haven't been terribly kind to you about what you wear. Now you have your own style, every one does, and there's nothing wrong with that. I want you to know, I'm not dissing your style ok?"

She gave me a wary nod now. I pressed on.

"I've got some clothes I'm not using. They may not be something you'd want or your style. You might not like them and if you don't, that's fine. We're still cool. But if you're interested, they're in the room just past the bathroom on the left. I didn't ask you here to change your style (mostly), but cause I like you and I thought we'd have a good time studying. Are we cool?" Now I was the worried one. I was so nervous again. Clotile had been really fun to work with.

She studied me impassively for a moment, making me sweat, before cracking a grin and play punching me. Ow. Kinda like Mel. I gave her a smile.

"We're cool. It'll give me something to do if I finish before you and Jack." I nodded, relieved.

"So, you're friends with him right?" I may as well try and get some info from her.

"Ouais! He's my brother." Oh, really?

"Well maybe you can tell me then, why is he staring at me all the time?!" I exclaimed. "What gives?"

She giggled. "He thinks you're a beautiful puzzle and he's trying to figure you out. He's over there now, probably pumping your mere for information!"

Oh no! Oh crap! I looked over at Mom and Jack, noticing Mom was doing a lot more talking than Jack was with a dawning light of horror. If there was one person in the world who I didn't need to know everything about me, that would probably be Jack. I wasn't sure why, but I strongly felt this was dangerous.

"Why does he want to figure me out?"

"Because he likes you." she said in a tone of voice as though she were talking to the most stupid four year old in existence.

When Jack came back to the table and it was time for the two of us to study together, I was amazed at how smart he was. The guy was sharp, caught things quickly and even pulled me along a time or two.

Of course, this could have had something to do with the fact that he kept touching me. His leg casually pressed into mine under the table as we looked at the book together. His hand touched mine he pointed to something on my paper. Once, my hair fell in front of my face, between us, and he casually swept it back over my ear, continuing to talk about something in the text all the while. When he touched my hand, rubbing it gently as though to get my attention while asking me a question. I just stared blankly at him feeling like an idiot. I hadn't even heard the question because I'd felt that touch in my hand, all the way down to a corresponding pulse between my legs. What was THAT?!

I'd had to stammer, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" while feeling like a total idiot.

By the smirk on his face when he'd repeated the question, not touching me this time, in a voice I was growing to love, he obviously knew why I'd been distracted. Well, not why exactly, but he knew his touches were driving me mad!

Clotile finished up her work, talked with Mom in the kitchen, and decided to look at some clothes, which she ended up having a ball with.

Clotile was really getting into trying on the clothes. She didn't like everything I had, but she was enjoying trying on stuff which had always been out of her financial reach before and was modeling with attitude to spare, rocking the outfits. She looked better than I had in the ones she'd chosen, which was great! I was happy she'd found somethings she was happy with.

When Jack's casual touches had gotten to be too much and I was blushing fit to light a fire, I stood up and said, "I need a study break! I'm going to go see if Clotile might like some ribbons to go with those outfits she likes ok?!" Only problem was, I said this when I was red in the face, and I'd said it way too loud and cheery to be casual.

Jack smirked at me. He totally knew what he was doing to me. He leaned back, full of casual confidence saying, "Sure belle fille, -beautiful girl, go on and hang with Clotile for a bit. I'll spend some time with your mere." Ohhh. The jerk. Pumping her for more information no doubt! Didn't he have enough on me already?

But I had to get a break, so I took it. I dragged Clotile up to my room with a few pieces of clothing to match to ribbons, but before we even got to my room, I burst out, "I need to talk to you!"

She out and out laughed at me. Apparently, my mounting tension with Jack's subtle closeness and flirting were a source of amusement to her. Fabulous. I had to admit, it was funny. Even I knew I was over reacting. I could laugh at myself. It was even a relief to be frustrated over boys for once instead of the creepy/crazy variety stuff.

Her laughter was so beautiful and infectious, and I was so tightly strung, I giggled too. I opened my door and when she stepped through she gasped. "Ga-lee. Evie!" She exclaimed, her eyes taking in the murals covering my walls.

I'd painted them after the ominous visions I'd had last year. They were of the sugar cane fields outside, only the sky was dark, storm clouds covering the skies. A stiff wind blew. It was an ominous feel, as though something were about to happen. Something important, life changing, earth shattering. It was enough to give you the chills if you didn't see it every day like I did. Looking down at her arms, I saw she had the freesons. little chill bumps prickling her arms. She rubbed them.

"Did you…paint this?" She asked me, the awe clear in her voice.

"I did." I said quietly.

"You're amazing." She walked to the wall by my large window, putting her hand to it and tracing the cane, a large tree. "It looks so life-like. What inspired you?"

Repeated visions of the end of the world, for which I was locked in a nut house for three months. "I had a nightmare one night. It made an impression." I decided to say something else, something more normal. "Plus, I like rain. It's good for the crops."

"Ouais. Rain is good…but this-" Her hand traced the dark cloud hanging low on the horizon. "This feels different. Dangerous perhaps."

Girl had good instincts.

I opened my ribbon drawer as a distraction and put the outfits on the bed, throwing the ribbons beside them, trying to find matches. Clotile came over to join me. I tried to think of how to talk to her about my problem.

That problem was, I was a sleep deprived nutcase who'd only had one real boyfriend, hadn't had much experience with boys, had no experience with boys like Jack, and therefore, I had no clue what to do. Brandon and I had only been to first base with brief flirting with second last spring.

Also, I still had a boyfriend, who I was now sure, I had no intention of giving my V card to, ever. What that meant, I wasn't sure. Probably that we would break up. But Brandon represented stability, and sanity. I had clung to the idea of him for those three months in CLC, but if I had to give him my V card to keep him…that was going to be a deal breaker.

And now that I was getting a taste of Jack, I was wondering if maybe Brandon wouldn't make a better friend than boyfriend. We'd been friends for a long time and were social equals in our parish, which was why most thought we made so much sense when we started dating. Why I'd thought we made so much sense. But those reasons were surface, shallow. There was something deeper with Jack. No we didn't make sense on the surface, but there was something there that I was forced to notice. Just like I was forced to notice my visions…shaking that thought aside, I turned back to Clotile.

I blurted out, "Do you have experience?"

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Like with boys. Dating. Sex. That kind of thing."

Her face became impassive and suspicious. Yeah, I could have said that better. Ugh. I rushed on, "Because I don't and I've got a problem and I need to talk to someone and Mel wasn't any help so if you have some experience maybe you could give me some advice, but this needs to stay between us, no telling Jack, especially not Jack."

Now her face was very interested and she wore a happy little grin. "What's your problem fille?"

I blew out a breath. How to define this. "How important is Chemistry? I mean, what if you like a guy, and he's good to you, sweet, funny, kind all that important stuff, but the chemistry is…meh. Does that mean the sex will be too?"

Now her face got serious. "It's always important that a man is good to you cherie, but there's a difference between a kiss with just anyone, and a kiss that has power and chemistry behind it. Amour is also important too, doan forget that! But yes, a regular kiss feels like just mechanics compared to the power of chemistry and amour."

My face sunk into a frown. I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them. Well stink it. I didn't have either chemistry or amour with Brandon. He was a really great guy. Dang it!

"You doan look as though you're happy Evie. Now I'm curious so forgive me if I ask, but doan have a beau that you're happy with?"

"This stays between us right?" I asked softly.

When she gave me a firm nod, and said, "Of course cherie." I decided to go ahead. She pulled up her legs to sit cross legged in front of me, the pile of clothes and ribbons between us, waiting for me to dish.

I went on, winding a satin emerald ribbon between my fingers as I talked. "Yes I have a beau. Brandon and I have been dating since last spring. But I was gone all summer and he agreed to not go out with anyone else and still go out with me when I got back. So I'm back now…He's probably going to want more out of our relationship soon…sex. I kind of hinted I'd be ready for that when I turned sixteen before I left for the summer. (I didn't want her to think he was a jerk. It was my fault for promising) After I'm sixteen in a week. I thought I'd be ready. Only, now that the time is closer…"

"You've realized you're not?" She finished. I nodded sadly, frowning. "Why not tell him that? He may understand if he likes you. Some guys don't mind waiting until the girl is ready."

"That's true, but the bigger problem is, the chemistry isn't there. It's totally meh. I don't get riled up when he kisses me. I'm not interested in having sex with him, not remotely, ever. And if that's the case, I think it would be better for me to cut him loose and let him find someone who would suit him better, but I'm not sure how to do that because he's been really good to me and he's such a sweet guy you have no idea! He and I have been friends for ages. Our families have known each other for ever."

"You'd really give up the catch of the parish so he could find someone he might like better?"

"You'd understand if you knew Brandon. He's such a sweet guy. Kind of like a teddy bear and a golden retriever all rolled into one. He's always happy, very mellow, and a people pleaser. He deserves to be with someone who can love him back, not just someone who likes him a lot and is trying really hard to force herself to enjoy being with him."

Her eyes held respect for me and I was hopeful that maybe this might work out. She plucked a ruby red satin ribbon and wound it around her fingers and wrist. "What if I were to…distract him for you a bit? Would that help?"

"You mean, see if you can get him interested in you?"

She nodded. I thought about it, biting my thumb nail. Clotile had certainly attracted male attention her first day. Would Brandon be interested in her. Probably. Would he date her? No idea but if he was anything like the rest of our school, not likely. They didn't consider the Cajuns good enough to date. Prejudiced but there it was.

"Do you want to date him?" I asked.

"I doubt he would lower himself to date me," she said harshly, "but I could tease him a little. No harm in messing around."

"I don't mind if you don't." I said honestly. "I just don't want anyone getting hurt. I like you, and I like him. You're both good people?"

"Sure." She looked around my room a moment before her gaze rested on me again. "So…what do you think about Jack?"

I blushed, and I knew that I blushed because she grinned and laughed when my face got hot, so I buried it in my hands.

"Come on cherie! Spill!" She demanded.

I looked up, glaring a little. "Promise you won't tell him!"

She crossed her heart, wiggling her booty on the bed to get comfortable.

"He's good looking, hot, and we've got a ton of chemistry, but me makes nervous, and flustered, and he's always staring at me!"

"Would you date him?" she asked me seriously, knowing it wouldn't be the done thing and likely would be social suicide, but it might be possible since I'd been so friendly to them both and I'd invited them to my house and she wanted to know because he was her brother and she cared about him.

I sighed. "I'd think about it." I told her seriously. "There are a few problems though. First I need to break up with Brandon. And then there's the fact that my Mom is strict. Yes she's been cool today but there are some serious things going on that I can't talk about right now. And then there's the motorcycle thing. She usually doesn't like them, but again she's been cool about them today. So she'd want to know Jack and approve of him and that would take some time."

"You'd really date a Cajun?"

"It's not about dating a Cajun. I've known Cajun's all my life. I grew up stomping around the farm after them when they were here helping out. My grandmother had friends in the Bayou and took me to visit with her sometimes. It would be about dating Jack. But I've only known him a couple days…it's just…there's something there…you know?"

She gave me a nod and a smile and we got back to the ribbons, chatting a bit about her love life and my lack of a past of one, before heading back down to study and have supper.

Jack and I had pretty well finished up at 6:30 so we called it a night and packed away our stuff, going to the kitchen to complement Mom on supper and grab plates and set the table. Mom thanked Jack on his help telling me how she loved having him help her cook and how he would be welcome to supper, "Anytime!"

Since I couldn't cook and hadn't ever learned, his help was obviously appreciated. I could cut up and help with prep work, but like I said, my relationship with Mom had been strained since I'd been home.

Dinner conversation was light and fun. Mom was enjoying the company, embarrassing me a little with a few stories about me when I was little, that I used to follow around the workers every chance I would get when they were around, and my full name, Evangeline, which was Cajun, thanks to my Grandmother, just like theirs. They both seemed thrilled to know we shared so much in common, Jack especially. I had a feeling I'd regret that. Thankfully she hadn't let slip that I could actually speak Cajun.

Mom pressed them both to take some leftovers with them in spill proof containers after supper. Once they'd sped off on the motorcycle, Mom put her arm around my shoulder while we stood on the porch and said, "I like your new friends, Evie. Have them back soon, alright?"

I gave her a dazed smile and said something…I don't know what. She turned to go back inside. I felt like my world had just tilted on it's axis…and would never be the same.