Warning: Hold on to your hearts, lovers. Someone's must break.
…
We Fall Between
…
Kaylie's house has been appropriately renamed the Cruz Castle.
Alex Cruz was young and ambitious when he signed his first contract with a Major League team. His first project was building his dream house with the best architects money could buy. It took two years to finish the giant castle of a home complete with secret passageways. In their adolescent years AJ, Leo and Kaylie would explore and show off the house's many secrets to their friends, playing some memorable games of hide and seek.
"This is insane." Nicky follows Kaylie down a passageway that starts at the back of the second floor closet and ends up in the downstairs laundry room. "Must make it easy to sneak out."
"Not like sneaking out is hard to begin with," Kaylie says. "It does make it fun though."
Kaylie leads the way as they weave between the different rooms in the house. When Nicky wraps his arm around her waist and his lips brush her temple, Kaylie feels a jolt. There's something strangely romantic about the way they're in this small, dark and hot space. Kaylie guides him closer and feels how he's caught off guard. It's too dark to make out every detail of his face. Nicky doesn't push her away so Kaylie doesn't stop, bringing her lips to his.
She has him and wants to take it further, solidity this relationship they've been cultivating for half a year now, to make it real. Kaylie grips and tugs, kissing him so hard neither of them can even take a breath. She guides his hands up her body and desperately ignores the way he lets his hesitation get the best of him, questioning her sudden spontaneity.
There's zero space between them in such a narrow area. With the lack of room and oxygen, the heat turns spontaneity to suffocation. They both feel the claustrophobia, dizzying and feverish. Hands and tongue and hips all moving, moving, moving, but then Nicky slowly becomes so still. Kaylie wants this—wants him—but he seems to be fighting a reaction like he doesn't want this—her.
Nicky pulls away and loudly inhales. His delay only gives rise to her insecurities. So many times Kaylie wishes she could just be done with it, banish all doubt and self-consciousness, but she can't. Her insecurities are as much apart of her as her fingers and toes.
Desperate to retain the moment, the energy between them, Kaylie kisses him again, wanting to get lost in him and wanting to let him know it's okay to get lost in her. She knows he holds back for some reason he won't talk about. She presses against him, his back against the wall and the end of his shirt rising and rising with the effort of her hands pushing and pushing.
Her hands start to move lower and lower and Kaylie feels him move away. He stops kissing back and she isn't sure what's going on. Even with the lack of light, their eyes somewhat adjust and Kaylie wears her questions on her face. Nicky's stoic expression does nothing to sooth her anxiety.
They drop the ball. The play is dead. Kaylie for the life of her doesn't understand why.
"Is it me?" she whispers. Her voice wavers when she asks and Nicky moves his hands to her arms as if to somehow reassure her when he can't form the words. "What am I doing wrong?"
Before Nicky can stutter a single syllable, there's a vibration between them, but not the type Kaylie had been hoping for. She digs into her pocket and finds her phone, the screen shedding light on both their sweat-glazed, fearful faces.
"Answer it," Nicky says.
Kaylie turns away from him and holds the phone to her ear. "What, AJ?"
"Whoa, Kaylie mad. Kaylie smash!" AJ says, just to be annoying. Kaylie pulls away from Nicky as she talks to her brother, giving her boyfriend the moment he needs to pull together. "I need to pick up Shauna from the airport. Do you think you could keep an eye on your niece?"
"I'm with Nicky," she replies.
"Aren't you home?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I didn't interrupt the foreplay, did I?" AJ asks. "Damn me and my amazing timing."
"I'm hanging up now."
"Kales, please?"
"Fine. I'll be right down." She ends the call and shoves her phone back into her pocket. Honestly, she's glad for the distraction. It'll give her some time to sort through her racing thoughts before having to confront Nicky about it. Without facing him, she explains, "AJ's going out and I, um, have to watch Amelia so…let's go."
"Kaylie," Nicky says gently. "There's nothing wrong with you."
She doesn't expect him to give her an in-depth analysis because Nicky never does. He probably could if they were talking about something scientific, explained with figures and facts, but not feelings. Instead of letting herself dwell, Kaylie takes his hand and leads him the rest of the way, down the spiral stairs and out through the panel in the laundry room. Once they're back in the light, Kaylie lets go of Nicky's hand and goes ahead without him.
"Finally," AJ says, "and why are you so sweaty?" He sees Nicky trailing behind Kaylie, looking just as sweaty and maybe a little sick. "Never mind. I don't want to know." AJ hoists Amelia up and hands her over to Kaylie. "Baby girl is all yours. Melia, give Aunty Kaylie hell."
AJ lovingly kisses his daughter, snatches his keys off the table and walks out the door.
"I love how your brother still doesn't acknowledge I exist," Nicky says. Kaylie doesn't answer, instead taking Amelia over to the den where a mat is spread out on the ground with an assortment of her toys. Nicky follows. "And apparently you're ignoring me too. Kaylieee."
"What was that back there?" she asks sharply.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Nicky says defensively. "One minute you're showing me the cool, secret passages in your house and the next you like…you know."
"Attack you?"
"Pretty much." Kaylie looks so embarrassed and Nicky goes over and sits close to her. "Kaylie, fine. Let's talk." He touches her shoulder and moves his arm around her neck, his skin dusted with perspiration, gliding across hers, creating even more friction between them.
"I know it was stupid. I just…we've been going out for almost seven months now. I just thought…"
"Hey," Nicky says tenderly. He rubs his hand back and forth across her shoulders. She loves his touch, how his fingers are calloused and rough so he makes an extra effort to touch her as gently as possible. "Not in front of your niece."
There he goes again. Evading the conversation.
"Nicky."
The next second he leaves her completely and Kaylie's afraid he's just going to disappear without warning, feeling the start of another fight. Instead, Kaylie watches Nicky move across the room, running his fingers across the cover of Ronnie's grand piano. Nicky sits at the bench and flips the cover. He expertly positions his fingers over the keys and starts to play.
Kaylie brings Amelia into her arms and goes over to the piano where her boyfriend is situated. Nicky is so focused; fingers swiftly travel the keys, creating such sweet music that floats to the high ceiling. He plays with such precision, like he doesn't even have to think about what comes after what. His fingers just move to where they're supposed to be, effortlessly.
Nicky told her once that he learned when he was younger and took Beginning Band as an elective his freshman year, but she's never actually heard him play. He doesn't have a piano at his house, not that Kaylie knows of, and usually when they're at hers, they're either in her room, doing homework or hanging out. This is new.
When he finishes, Kaylie gently takes Amelia's wrists to make her clap her little hands. "Wow, I didn't know you could play like that."
"My, um, mom taught piano. She used to call me her little protégé." Nicky lets his fingers dance across the keys again, just one hand, playing softly. "When she passed away, my dad would get upset just seeing a piano. Forget hearing it. He donated our to the church, didn't even talk to me about it first and I swear I didn't talk to him for a whole month after."
"Weren't you like eight? If you didn't have a piano, how did you get so good?"
Nicky smiles at the pictures in his head, memories he can't fully convey. "Faith. Typical Faith, she puts her everything into something she wants and burns out in a couple weeks. Her dad just bought her this beautiful satin Baldwin and she gave it to me, but we kept it at her place. I was over there a lot anyways so I'd practice."
"Then when you moved here?"
"I sneak into the auditorium and play at lunch or after school. Sometimes at the mall." Nicky laughs. "If Kelly was going to drag me through every stupid girl store then we were spending at least an hour in the music store, 'testing' pianos. Then for my thirteenth birthday Kelly bought me this gorgeous digital Clavinova. It's at her house…assuming she hasn't sold it or chopped it up into firewood by now."
"You miss them, don't you?"
Nicky won't verbally admit it, but Kaylie knows he worries even though they're both out, living their lives. He puts them first and they put themselves first. Nicky probably doesn't even come in second to them. Kaylie is right in front of him, begging for half as much of his attention. She never says anything because she knows Nicky will just get angry and defend his friends.
"Here. I think your dad would like this." With his two hands on the keys, Nicky plays "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" and Kaylie laughs. When she notices Amelia rubbing her eyes, Kaylie asks Nicky to hold her (AJ would go postal if he knew, but Kaylie doesn't care) and she goes to get a bottle from the kitchen.
When she comes back into the room, Nicky is on the couch with a tired Amelia, letting her tiny fingers scratch at the bracelet tattoo on his wrist as if she could remove it with the gentlest of scratches. Oh, if only it were that easy. Kaylie can't look at it without thinking of Kelly Parker and she's willing to bet Nicky feels the same.
Kaylie pulls Amelia into her lap and gives her the bottle. AJ lucked out with how calm Amelia is. If you wake her up before she's ready then all hell breaks loose and she will cry for an hour straight, but aside from designated crazy hours, where she attempts to tear the house apart (6 to 7 p.m.) Amelia is relatively behaved. Seeing Amelia start to fall asleep, Kaylie softly sings in Spanish. She doesn't even realize she's doing it until Nicky laughs.
He translates, "Kitchen. Chair. Bread. Tomatoes. Spoon. Fork. Chicken… Hmm, I don't know that song."
"It's the first Spanish I learned," Kaylie says. "From Eron in the kitchen… just in song form."
"I think it's cute." Nicky leans over and kisses her. It's nice and simple and there's no attacking, just lip-to-lip contact. No tongue. He pulls away only to kiss her again on the cheek and lies back against the couch.
When Amelia fully falls asleep, Kaylie slowly maneuvers out from under her and carefully lays the sleeping, miniature human on one end of the couch. She then crawls to the other side where Nicky is half-asleep himself. Kaylie fits into his side and his arm curls around her. Everything is so quiet and peaceful as if their little miscommunication earlier never happened.
Moments like this make Kaylie think that it's okay to hold off on sex. If they can be this content then the social pressure shouldn't matter. It's like what Lauren told her the other day, about how she's lucky to have a boyfriend like Nicky, who isn't in it for the sex, but for her.
Most times her obsessive personality gets in the way. Kaylie has to know the truth and she'll go to great lengths to find it. She can't block out those pesky voices in head, the ones that wonder why Nicky keeps their relationship at a tortoise-pace.
For now she won't push. Pushing Nicky for answers means pushing him to the door. Now she just close her eyes and feel him next to hers, the rise and fall of his chest with every breath, and tell herself that this is good for now.
Click. Click. Flash. Flash.
Kaylie wakes up to flashing lights and laughter. She sits up, stirring Nicky who makes a low, rough sound at the base of his throat and moves his arm from around her in favor of rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"What's going on?" Kaylie murmurs.
"Damn! Did we wake you?"
Of course, it's AJ. Who else?
He has his phone pointed at them. Next to him is Shauna Donovan, Amelia's mother. She's Maxim centerfold hot, athletically built with legs that go on and on, sun kissed skin and hair that's a happy medium between brown and blonde. It hasn't been that long since she graduated from Taft, but she seems like a different person. It only makes sense that having a baby would do that.
"What a beautiful couple," AJ teases. "This shot right here is for the Kaylie Loves Nicky scrapbooks she hides at the back of her closet. Bro, I swear she saved a napkin from your first date and a lock of your hair. Aw, this pic, Kaylie with just the perfect amount of drool down her chin and neck. Kodak moment."
"AJ, shut up. You're embarrassing her." From the two times Shauna has visited with AJ and Amelia, Kaylie and her have been friendly enough. Back in high school, Shauna wouldn't be caught dead socializing with one of Darby's "coattail cling-ons" but now she isn't bad company. "Kaylie, who's your friend?"
"Shauna, this is Nicky," Kaylie says, laying a hand on his chest. "My boyfriend."
"The one I told you about, remember," AJ whispers loudly. Nicky is nervous, as still as stone.
"Oh. That one," Shauna says with a knowing smile. Now Nicky isn't just nervous, he's petrified. "As long as you two are being safe because we all know what happens otherwise." Shauna motions to her sleeping daughter and then roughly shoves AJ. "I still can't believe I let you screw me and screw me over for nine months after that."
"What?" AJ plays innocent. "I would've rubbered up if you told me to."
"If I told you to? Do you hear this guy? And he wonders why I turn him down every time he's drunk and proposes?" Shauna swats AJ's shoulder and he smirks in return. "Remember, safe sex is the best sex."
AJ shakes his head no. "That's the biggest lie of our generation."
"Alexander, you douche," Shauna says quickly. "Aren't you supposed to be Mr. PSA?"
"The Amelia Grace Foundation doesn't go around advertising lies about sex. We keep young adults informed, telling them the stuff their parents neglect to out of embarrassment and what schools suck at teaching. Then for girls who find out unprotected sex is awesome sex that leads to babies, we give em' a hand when no one else will."
Shauna shakes her head. "He goes from douche bag to Superman so fast I don't even know what to think."
"Now you know my life," Kaylie says.
Despite the rude awakening, Kaylie enjoys having another girl in the house to gang up on AJ with. They talk a while longer and Nicky barely gets a word in, but he holds Kaylie's hand the entire time. When this starts to feel too Awkward Double Date, AJ bullies Nicky, playing on his social anxiety until he makes an excuse to leave. As he kisses her goodbye, Kaylie wants to think they'll be okay, but if she's honest with herself, she's completely in the dark.
…
AJ. AJ. AJ. AJ.
Lauren can't really think of anything, but. She tries to distract herself with other things like gossip and Twitter, but her mind always drifts back to the black sheep in the Cruz family.
Throughout every single one of her classes, Lauren didn't crack a book or take a single note. Hell, she didn't even bring the right books to the right classes, but even if she did, it isn't like she'd put them to use. Admittedly, Lauren never really takes notes anyways. Usually she just gets Emily to give her the rundown right before test day. Or she wears a skirt and writes hints on her thighs, but that's only a last resort.
She spends a lot of class time thinking about the last time she saw AJ in person. Right before sunset, as the heat started to tamper down to make way for night, the day before he made the move to Palm Springs. AJ played it cool like he wasn't moving to a different state in the morning and in turn Lauren acted as if she wasn't going to miss him. They watched Sixteen Candles and he made them grilled cheese sandwiches. She knows nothing would have stopped him from leaving so it didn't even cross her mind to try.
"Your photos are crap."
Hearing that, Lauren wakes up for what might be the first time today. "Excuse you?"
Lauren stands behind Max who's sitting at one of the computers in the newsroom. He has her dinosaur of a digital camera connected, going through the photos she took. Lauren tries to remember if she might have absentmindedly told him she took those pictures ten minutes before coming into the newsroom, because she did.
"Do I really need to explain?" Max clicks to the next photo and it's of Ike laughing with half a PB&J sandwich in his hand and the other half reduced to mush in his open mouth. Max swings his chair around to face her. Whether she told him or not, Max can guess.
"It's not like you have to use my pictures."
"No, but since you're forced to be here you might as well learn something. An appreciation for the arts isn't a bad thing." Max disconnects the camera and hands it to Lauren. "Photography 101. Lesson one. Field trip time."
"Field trip?" she repeats. "As in outside the newsroom where people will see us together?"
"Afraid being seen with me is bad for your reputation?"
"The opposite, actually," Lauren corrects him. "I don't want your girlfriend getting the wrong idea and taking it out on me. I don't have time for drama."
"So you think because she stole your best friend she'd assume you were trying to steal her boyfriend," Max says. "You're more like Maeve than you want to believe. She has crazy girl world conspiracy theories too."
"That's why I did away with the popularity and girl world conspiracy theories," Lauren says loftily. "There's less paranoia when you're no one. Surprisingly, it's less lonely too."
Max looks at her, but Lauren doesn't look back. She doesn't need to see him to know he thinks they're having a moment when they're not. He thinks he sees a flash of her deeply buried vulnerability, her hurt over the fall, but he's wrong. She's better off and knows it.
"So we're going somewhere?"
"Yeah," Max says. "Follow me."
Lauren walks with Max out to the quad. Just the fact that Lauren Tanner and Max Spencer are communicating in public draws attention. Max acts like he doesn't notice, but Lauren has her armor assembled. He turns out to be a great instructor, patient and kind, showing her proper settings and how to utilize natural light. His passion is infectious and he gets Lauren to forget the looks and people whispering about them. When the bell rings it pulls her back to reality.
"Why don't we meet in the newsroom after school and see how these came out?"
Lauren stops in place when it starts to feels like he's walking her to class. "Thanks, but no thanks. Matsui didn't say anything about overtime. I'll see you tomorrow at lunch, Paparazzi."
Instead of getting upset, Max says "okay" and goes off in the opposite direction. Staring at his retreating figure, Lauren reminds herself that Max Spencer is Maeve Benson property. She won't go there even if she's tempted to. Kaylie would undoubtedly flip out.
Once school is out, Lauren checks if Emily needs a ride, but she rode her bike to school and has work anyways. After, Lauren doesn't even bother going to her locker and races home instead. She has a video chat date with Razor, which is exactly what she needs right now. The Tanner house is quiet and empty. The maids are done for the day and left the house in perfect, pristine condition, just the way Steve expects it to be. The temperature is warm and comfortable and Lauren sheds her thick coat once the front door is locked behind her.
While she waits for Razor to text her (and later she'll pretend she wasn't waiting) Lauren decides to touches up her make up and applies a new layer of gloss to her lips. She looks around her room and realizes what a mess it is. That's the one area of the house the maids don't touch. If AJ, Mr. OCD, were here he'd tease that her room is such a mess she wouldn't be able to tell if the maids were stealing her stuff.
There she goes again thinking about him. Damn it.
Lauren gave up on AJ a long time ago. She did. He's going in one direction and she's going in another. That's just how life played out and it's no one's fault. So why can't she stop thinking about him? Lauren is so deep in thought she almost misses her phone buzzing on her vanity.
"Lauren, oh Lauren," Razor says once she accepts the invitation to video chat. "Every time I see you I get this feeling, oh, so foreign, diving, striving, reviving. Oh, Lauren, hello."
Razor is officially the hottest goofball ever.
Lauren presses her lips together, pretending she isn't into it. "How long did it take you to come up with that one?"
"You know this stuff sort of just comes to me." Razor taps his temple. "And you should also note how hard your name is to rhyme with."
"Yes, I caught that. Points for creativity, but a deduction for lameness. Foreign?" She makes a face that gets him to grin and then suddenly she's grinning along with him.
"Right, I should get to work on that, elevate it to full pick-Lo-up."
"I'm fine, but you would not believe the week I've had!" Lauren brings her laptop with her and flops down onto her bed. "Operation Soul Skater was almost flawless, minus the full on girl fight that followed, getting sent to the principal's office and exiled from the cheer squad."
"Acceptance of what happened is the first step to overcoming the consequences of any misfortune. William James," Razor says. "Did you not get my text this a.m.? You didn't reply…"
He looks so sad as his voice softens towards the end. Razor Sheppard is one of the few people on this earth who can actually make Lauren feel bad.
"Right. Sorry," Lauren says quickly. "I've been a little distracted."
"What's on your mind?"
"Didn't you just hear my list of misfortunes?" s
"Yes, and it was a lengthy list, but that isn't all. There's something else…"
Lauren sighs. AJ is the first thing that comes to mind, but isn't the only thing bugging her.
"It's Kaylie. She has other friends now and sometimes it feels like she's picking fights with me so she has a reason to ditch me for them. Get this, she's mad at me, right? Then when she needs something she tells me how much she loves me and plays the best friends forever card like I don't know I'm being used."
"Not cool."
"Thank you," Lauren says. "Em gives Kaylie the benefit of the doubt and makes excuses for her and Payson doesn't have to sit and watch Kaylie and the popular kids strut around day after day, thinking they're god's gift to Boulder. And I can't believe I'm turning into one of those losers who bitch about the popular kids."
"Colorado Barbie, you are not a loser. Other than that, I don't know what else to tell you. I'm not an expert on friend drama. My best friend disappeared off the face of the planet. No e-mail, text, not even carrier pigeon telegram."
"The second you know anything about Damon, you're obligated to tell me," Lauren orders. "He is on my shit list. Not even you or Emily can stop me. I'm taking him down."
Razor laughs and Lauren doesn't appreciate it.
"I'm sorry," he says, "it's just too easy to picture in my head. You, cute adorable yet at times frightening you, trying to take down Damon, hitting him with his Gibson, kicking him with your scary Lady Gaga spiked heels. It's amazing. I'd definitely place my trust fund on you."
"How sweet, babe," Lauren says, every syllable equal parts sarcastic and flirtatious.
"You're welcome, baby."
It annoys her only slightly, knowing Razor's joking and how it makes her feel like a joke, but then he smiles. Anyone else, AJ included, and she would go into defensive bitch mode, but never with Razor. He's the one who kept her on her feet when she's feeling down.
"If it's any consolation, Lo, I'm sure you'll work things out with Kaylie."
"Like you're going to work things out with Damon? Even after he's been gone?"
"For sure. We call each other out when someone fucks up and get pissed at each other about stuff, but that's how we show we care. If we weren't annoyingly real with each other all the time we'd be bad friends. I make it a point to spam Damon's Twitter with 'bitch, you better not miss my graduation!' a couple dozen times a day."
"If only you had the same dedication for a girl as you do for Damon." When Razor doesn't take the hint, she goes on, "So are you and the Ex back together yet?"
"What's with you Colorado girls? Is my relationship status all you think about? Emily opens every conversation asking about Jody. Not that I'm deliberately changing the subject even though it is a great time to change the subject, I've been meaning to talk to you about Em."
That's one thing Lauren loves about Razor. He cares about Emily just as much as she does.
"She's still not doing good and it's all Damon's fault," Lauren says. "I keep telling her to move on, but it's like she can't. Truthfully, I don't think she wants to. She keeps busy, working and tutoring and school stuff. I don't mean to brag, but I'm currently the wind beneath her wings."
"Lauren Tanner, getting poetic on me. You're a good friend. Emily's lucky to have you." Lauren stops picking at her nails and stares thoughtfully at Razor. "Uh, did I say something wrong?"
"No. It's just, usually when people say that it's about Emily or Payson, sometimes Kaylie, and how lucky I am to have such good friends. No one has ever told me that I'm a good friend."
"Well, I just did," he says, showing off those pearly white teeth. "And hell yeah I meant it. I can tell. I don't have to worry too much because Em is in good hands."
"Good. Now, that we're clear on Emily. Back to your ex."
"Jody is still my ex." Razor shrugs and Lauren notices that he's wearing a black wife beater, showing off his insanely broad shoulders and yummy, prominent collarbone. It proves to be more than distracting. "We float. We talk about Emily and Damon sometimes."
"And you got drunk and hooked up at Mason Patterson's party last weekend," she guesses.
"Caleb Turner's birthday party, actually. We kissed briefly, not remotely sexy, and I believe the words that came out of her mouth were, 'I regretted that almost immediately' before she ran off. Nothing more since."
Lauren hopes the stabbing feeling she gets doesn't show in her expression.
"Not like you have to explain yourself to me or anything."
"Uh-huh," he says, unconvinced. "Like I said, friends call each other out on their shit, especially of the romantic variety."
Lauren is ready to explore this further when shouting from his end of the chat distracts her. One voice belongs to a man, the other a woman and they both sound angry. Razor disappears for a moment, shuts his door and muffles the argument outside. He puts on music, letting it play softly in the background. Once back on her screen, Razor apologizes immediately.
"People fight. Nothing new," she says, trying to make him feel better. "Do they do that a lot?"
"More and more lately. Work sucks and you've seen my mom at her most manic. She isn't the easiest to deal with. I give Dave props and I know he's a good guy, but hearing him yell at her sucks too. Even Henley hates it. I know this goes against the girl world rulebook, but don't tell Em, okay? I'm sure Dave will get through the company merger and things will cool down. I don't want Emily freaking out over nothing."
"Yeah, I'm sure she has enough to deal with right now," she says. "Anyways, I have a little pick-Ray-up for you." Lauren goes to lock her bedroom door to prevent any awkward intrusions. Steve is already upset with her, walking in and seeing what she's about to do will probably give him a stroke. "Did I mention I'm throwing a party this weekend?"
Razor laughs, running his palms down his face. "I don't know, Lauren. You and parties…"
"I know. Parties and me have the whole love-hate Ronnie-Sam bad things happen when we're drunk relationship. And trust me, if I had it my way, I'd spend this weekend with whatever fab marathon is on Bravo, but Kaylie practically begged me so I can't say no."
"So long as you don't get really drunk and kiss a kid just for AJ Cruz to come in with a bomb of radioactive angst strapped to his chest and self-destruct right in the middle," Razor says. "As long as you refrain from repeating that specific moment in our shared history then I think your party should be great."
"It didn't even cross my mind to pull that again," Lauren assures him. "Only on you."
"Aw," Razor coos. "So how is bragging about your party supposed to make me feel better?"
"I know you can't be there, but you can help me choose an outfit for the occasion."
As Lauren takes her laptop and walks down the clear path that goes from the foot of her bed to the walk-in closet, she thinks about the top three boys she finds herself currently drawn to and realizes their one shared trait—how much they care about their appearances. AJ thinks he's the Spanish-Latino Chuck Bass, Razor spends more time on his hair than Lauren does and Max Spencer only wears the latest in men's fashion. Metrosexuals. The whole lot of 'em.
With her laptop and Razor in tow, Lauren goes into her closet that was once a separate, smaller bedroom. For Lauren's thirteenth birthday her dad had it converted into giant closet. The walls are lined with shelves, dresser drawers and racks of clothes. There's even a small leather chair in the center, where her friends sit while they help her figure out what to wear.
"Damn. Henley would trip over your chick cave."
"Except I don't think we have the same taste in clothes." Lauren pushes around some pieces of jewelry on one of the dressers and sets her laptop down. "Does your sister still dress like one of those creepy old school collector's item dolls?"
"Yes, she does, calls it vintage, but clothes are clothes, right?"
"Oh, Razor. I have so much to teach you." Lauren walks circles around her closet, trying to pick out a few potential choices. As she searches, Lauren can hear Razor strumming his acoustic guitar, doing a little impromptu freestyle. There's something so comforting about his presence, his voice, even when he's singing nonsense about Spiderman. Lauren finds it charming that he can be himself around her and lets her be herself in front of him.
"Okay, I like this one, this one and this one." One at a time Lauren holds up each dress in front of her, pressed to her body to illustrate. "What do you think?"
"I think I need to see you try them on," he says. Lauren gives him a nice move, buddy expression. "What? I need the full effect."
"I was hoping you'd say that."
A devilish smirk accompanies her devilish idea. Lauren stays in front of her laptop and pulls her shirt off over her head, wearing a downright sexy lace bra underneath. She lets her top fall to the ground and reaches for the waistband of her skinny jeans. Is there a sexy way of taking off skinny jeans? Lauren will be damned if she doesn't try. Once Lauren gets her jeans off and kicks them aside, in matching lace panties, she leans over the laptop to give him a great cleavage shot. Maybe she is a whore, but at least she has fun with it.
"Which first?" Lauren asks, aware she sounds dumb, but it's Razor. No judgment, just fun.
His face is too much, forgetting about his guitar and just stares at her with his chin dropped to his throat, between I can't believe this is happening and Oh, My God this is really happening!
"What's wrong, Ray?" Lauren wants to freeze his face in this moment forever to keep for bad days when she needs something to cheer her up. Whenever Nicky Russo goes into gawking dork mode Lauren finds it beyond annoying, but Razor works it. "Aw."
When he snaps out of it, Razor rubs his face, knowing it's undeniable how this is the best pick-me-up ever. "Lauren Tanner, you are officially the biggest tease in the history of teasing."
"Shut up. You know you feel better," Lauren says. "Now, which dress should I try on first?"
"The black one."
"My LF silk a.k.a the little black dress," Lauren announces. It's straight cut, soft and thin. She slips it on and straightens it down her body, a perfect fit. "I'll probably cinch it with a belt. I'm thinking black suede on black silk and most likely wedges. Opinion?"
"Taking a mental picture…now," Razor says, making his own camera sound effects. "Next?"
Lauren takes off the silk dress and carefully tosses it onto a nearby chair. She goes for the next. A vibrant, crimson Elizabeth and James Heather cross front dress that's cute and fun with gorgeous leather detailing. Lauren spins when wearing it, almost giggling at how girly she feels. "Cute, right? With gold accessories and pumps."
"I can dig it." Razor's practically drooling and not one bit ashamed.
Last, but not least is a Therese Rawsthorne dress, white and loose and moves great with her body. Like the last two, the edge of the dress barely passes her thighs, exposing a good amount of legs. Lauren shifts from side to side, her gaze moving between the full-length mirror and Razor. "Probably platforms with this, minimal accessories."
"You're gonna kill your feet at this party."
"Fashion is the only art worth dying for," she replies. "And you can quote me on that."
"I like the red one. It's bright and loud and you," Razor says, "but you and I both know you'll look amazing in whatever you wear…or don't wear."
As he says this, Lauren notices how he's staring at her, longing but not lustful. She feels the sudden urge to tell him how much she wishes he was in Colorado and if he were, she would have wanted him to take off her clothes for her. They could play doctor instead of dress up. Razor is so good and honest. He makes her want to be just as good and honest. He makes her feel like they could be good, honest people together. Before Lauren gets the chance, her phone vibrates against the dresser.
A text from her dad: Family meeting downstairs. Now.
"Being summoned by Dictator Dad." Lauren sighs. "It won't take long."
"I should start homework anyways," Razor says, "but I'll be here when you get back."
He says homework, but Lauren hears Razor strumming his guitar, singing Matt Nathanson's "Modern Love." She smiles and changes into a nearby pair of shorts and a tank top before she heading downstairs. When she gets there, Lauren sees Steve isn't alone.
"Darby?"
Darby Conrad (not to be confused with Cowboy Conrad Cooper) was once a gymnast who trained at the Rock. That's where she met the Four and acted as a big sister to them. For Darby, gymnastics was never about going to the Olympics, just something she loved to do. When Lauren and Kaylie started their freshmen year at Taft, Darby was already a senior and a popular one. She took them under her wing and ushered them straight into the Royal world.
"Dar!" Lauren squeals excitedly. "Oh, my God! What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to see you! Duh!" Darby replies with a Valley Girl twang. She's slim with long arms that wraps around Lauren in a hug. When Darby started at CU Boulder, she took Lauren, Kaylie and Emily to their first frat party and introduced Lauren to the Boulder Boozers.
"I ran into Darby in town," Steve explains. "We started catching up, she said she hasn't seen you in a long time and so I invited her over for dinner."
Hitting on her friend's mom is one thing, but hitting on her friend? Really? Lauren would verbally call him out on this if she weren't already walking on thin ice.
"Your dad was telling me about an upcoming business and he seemed a little iffy about leaving you alone so I volunteered to drop by and check on you, even have a sleepover for ol' time's sake, make sure you aren't doing anything bad while he's out of town."
"And I agreed. Maybe a good, strong female role model is just what you need," Steve says. "I was originally going to have Ronnie and Kaylie stop by to keep an eye on you, but she sounds swamped with work and Darby volunteered."
Steve's phone rings and he doesn't hesitate to check it. "I've gotta take this."
"We'll just be here, catching up," Darby says. When Steve leaves the room, Darby's sugary sweet mask dissolves. "So there's this guy who owes me a favor and I can get a few kegs out here free of charge. Quality stuff too."
"What are you talking about?" Lauren asks cautiously. It could be Steve already testing her.
Darby glances down the hall, where Steve walked away. She quietly replies, "The p-a-r-t-y. Oh, don't think we aren't throwing the hottest Boulder Boozer Bash of the New Year since I'm babysitting and all. It's your call, baby. When is this thing going down?"
Lauren smiles evilly. Why does it feel so good to be so bad?
…
Emily has been over to Ike Benzinger's house a total of three times.
The first time had been earlier in the school year before Lauren got her car, when they were still getting Ike to chauffer them around. Lauren set up a prank on Alison where they customized a license plate to say VAGLUVR and switched it out with Alison's. They had to go to Littleton to pick it up from a guy Ike knew. Halfway there they realize Ike had been driving without a license and turned around to get it.
The second, Ike called on Emily for a favor. He needed to "take care of something" and there was no one to keep an eye on his siblings, Bobby and Marnie. His parents leave for a couple weeks at a time without explanation so they're Ike's responsibility. That evening, Emily discovered Bobby was getting beat up at school and Marnie was dyslexic.
The third time it's school related.
"You should probably bring your bike inside. The neighborhood kids are dicks," Ike explains. "My skateboard got tapped with those stupid eyes. Once I left a sandwich on the hood of my car, went to grab my wallet inside, came out and the sandwich was gone."
"Tragic," Emily says, looking around. "They could have taken anything, but your sandwich?"
"Thanks. At least someone understands," Ike says, missing the sarcasm completely. "So this is weird. You came all the way out here on your bike just to help me with homework. Admit it. The only reason you're doing this right now is because Marcus asked you to and Marcus' old man milkshake brings all the lovesick, underage girls to the yard."
"He could probably teach you, but he'd have to charge," Emily adds with a smile. "I'm not doing this just because Marcus asked me to. I'm doing this because it would suck to save your math grade just to have your English grade plummet and you flunk out anyways. Plus, home is the last place I want to be right now."
"Understandable."
"Now where's that paper? I can read it, make suggestions and give it back to you tomorrow."
"It's around here somewhere…"
Ike goes to searching for his essay and Emily continues to look around his house. It's small, a single floor, with two bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room. The walls are papered pale green, peeling at the ends. The kitchen is a mess with dishes pilled high in the sink and empty boxes of cereal and junk food wrappers everywhere. The furniture is dated and moldy. It looks almost unlivable yet Ike is raising two middle school kids in it.
"Where are Bobby and Marnie?"
"Bobs has soccer and Marnie goes to that after school program where they help her read and stuff. I have ten minutes before I have to pick them up. Lauren ditched us and it doesn't sound like she'll be scheming anytime soon so I have a little free time to do homework."
Emily really should get paid for how much she helps him.
"Want to come with?" Ike asks. "We can throw your bike in the back and you can tell me how horrible my paper is on the drive."
Emily mulls it over. "I have work in an hour."
"Perfect. Then I can swing by the Pizza Shack and grab dinner for the kids. Killing two birds with one stone. With you there it'll get the monkeys off my back for a while."
Emily agrees and Ike volunteers to get her bike into the back of his pick-up truck. Emily looks back at his house, originally blue, but faded to a powder gray. It's as rickety as all the other houses in the neighborhood, stray dogs and cats wandering, digging through the garbage bags piled on the curb. Laguna screams out for help, but no one calls back.
The middle school is as unimpressive as the rest of Laguna. Graffiti is everywhere, but nothing like the eyes. It doesn't make a statement. It doesn't make you feel. It's just ugly. The soccer fields haven't been watered or maintained, leaving grass brown and brittle. Everywhere you look is downright depressing. Emily distracts herself with Ike's horrible essay.
"There are these handy grammatical miracles called commas," Emily says. "And it helps to start a new paragraph when you veer into a different point so Marcus doesn't have to strain his eyes reading one big block of text. Wow, you passed first grade, right?"
"And it becomes more and more obvious you're friends with Lauren." Emily doesn't know if she should be proud of that, but she is. "I'm sorry I don't follow all your little grammar rules. What can I say? I'm a literary bad boy."
Emily laughs. He can be so lame. "Sure, but you need to know the rules to break them."
"Touché."
Ike pulls up in the parking lot where a bunch of kids are running around on the field. Emily spots Marnie first. Somehow she lucked out and looks nothing like Ike. Twelve-years-old (turning thirteen) and very pretty with freckles on the tip of her nose and light brown hair. The only thing she may have in common with Ike is that she's thin, borderline malnourished, but that's due to environment more than genetics.
"Who the hell is that punk talking to my sister?" Ike asks. The boy in question looks older, taller, dressed in baggy clothes with piercings and green spikes for hair. Ike gets out and walks over to them. When the truck is still rolling, Emily has to put it in park and shut it down.
By the time Emily joins them, Ike and Marnie are screaming back and forth. It doesn't even sound like words, just cries of frustration. The poor boy a step behind Marnie is confused, mentally debating whether he should run or not.
"Okay! Okay! Enough!" Emily shouts. "Both of you! Stop!"
"Emily!" Marnie shouts, looking at her like she's a godsend. "I was just talking to him! I don't know why my idiot brother has to walk over here and act like a complete freak!"
"I'm the freak?" Ike shouts. "This loser has green hair like a freaking anime character!"
"Ike, just go get Bobby," Emily says, shoving him away. Ike stands still, reluctant to leave. "Marnie, say goodbye to your friend."
"But, Em…"
Emily gives her a pointed look, Mary Poppins mode. It works on Brian and Marnie is no different. She says goodbye to her friend—Blink—and he goes on his way. Once the green-haired boy is out of sight, Ike goes over to the soccer field where a bunch of kids are listening to their coach talk.
"I don't know why you hang out with Ike. He's a jerk," Marnie says, watching her brother trek across the field in his heavy jacket and combat boots. "I swear we were just talking about a math test we have tomorrow. He's in my study group. He's like me."
"He's a pain, but Ike is just being a big brother. I know that's a lame excuse and it doesn't mean you don't have a right to be angry with him because you do. But he's just trying to look out for you…even if he did it in the most overdramatic way possible."
"I know," Marnie says, staring off across the field. "Did you know one of my classmates is dropping out because she got knocked up?"
"In the seventh grade?"
"Yup," Marnie says, kicking at the grass. "It was some older high school guy and he doesn't want anything to do with her. She doesn't have the money for an abortion so she doesn't have any other choice but to be the girl who got pregnant at fourteen."
"That's sad," Emily says, "but it's our reality. She's not the first in Laguna and she won't be the last. That's why Ike did what he did. He doesn't want that future for you and, I don't know, in his mind every guy is a threat."
"But he of all people should know that I'm not going to be one," Marnie says strongly. "I'm not stupid. I'm going to get out of Laguna, out of Colorado maybe. I hate it here."
"You and me both," Emily assures her. "Okay, when your brother comes back over we aren't going to scream and yell. You're going to tell him what you just told me as calmly as possible and if he still won't listen then you have my permission to kick him in the balls."
Marnie giggles. "Have you seen him around your blonde friend? Ike doesn't have balls."
They share laughs and a hug. Girls from the ghetto who dare to dream are a rarity and so Emily does everything in her power to represent and be a role model. With her mom gone, probably high in a crack house, someone has to. Emily is willing to accept the challenge.
"Emily, hey!" shouts Bobby, the youngest, nine. He has a stronger resemblance to Ike with his bone structure and face shape. His hair has more curl to it and he has freckles like his sister.
"Hey, Beckham," Emily says sweetly. She holds out her hand and Bobby gives her a high-five.
On the drive to the Pizza Shack, Emily plays mediator between Ike and Marnie with Bobby interjecting from time to time and making things worse. By the time they pull up in front of Emily's place of work, all is well. Emily starts to consider therapist as a serious career option.
"You think you could hook us up with a free pizza?" Ike asks. Emily throws her backpack on while walking her bike to the rack.
"Depends on who's in the kitchen," Emily says. "If the manager is in or our supervisor then there's no way I'm sneaking you free pizza, but anyone else and it should be fine."
"Cool," Ike says. "I'll take those odds."
It's just her luck that Carter and his stoner friends are working tonight. They're all hanging out and talking when Emily blazes through the employee break room and goes straight to the bathroom. She changes into her standard navy blue Pizza Shack polo.
"You ready to get this party started?" Carter's all smiles, eyes red and half-lidded. He smells like he's been smoking and not cigarettes.
"There's nothing I'd rather do, Carter," Emily says sarcastically.
"Really, because there's a ton of shit I'd rather do," Carter says. He obviously missed the sarcasm. Emily doesn't know why she even bothers.
She makes a pizza for Ike and the kids and doesn't charge them. That's the thing about the Pizza Shack. They don't take inventory, don't have security cameras and don't really care. At the end of the night when they have leftover pizza, Carter usually invites all his Royals over. It's unprofessional and not the best job, but it brings in a paycheck every two weeks.
It's a slow night, which is typical for a weekday. Carter fiddles around in the kitchen, his loud, distracting rap music blasting from the speakers. He raps along and jumps around, almost slipping in the flour that coats the kitchen floor. Meanwhile, Emily runs the register, sitting at the counter with Paper Towns. If there is a God he must love John Green.
When the bell jingles, Emily saves her page and tucks the book under the counter. She's ready to greet customers when a real smile overpowers the fake one she reserves for work. In walks Kaylie and she's carrying AJ's baby, wearing a tiny leo-looking onesie that says Put me to bed across it. Emily had seen Amelia once before, a few months ago. She's grown so much since.
"Emily, look who's here for a slice of pizza," Kaylie sings, waving Amelia's little hand.
"Hi," Emily says in her highest singsong voice. "She's so cute."
"You're so cute," AJ says flirtatiously, coming up from behind Kaylie. Emily rounds the counter and runs into AJ's awaiting arms for a hug. "Damn, Em, you get taller every time I see you. At least, compared to Kaylie."
"Thanks a lot," Kaylie says, rolling her eyes. "Em, who's working today?"
"Only your favorite ex-boyfriend," Emily replies, moving aside so they can see into the kitchen. Not noticing them, Carter dances with the mop as an angry song rattles the kitchen.
Kaylie grimaces. "Did I really date that guy?"
"Yes, you did," Emily says. Lauren and Kaylie are more alike than either of them will admit.
"Hell no," AJ says. "Emily Kmetko, fuck no am I eating anything Carter, the stoner idiot, attempts to cook! No way. Come on, Kales, we're going to the Burger Hut."
"AJ, if it makes you feel better I'll personally make your pizza," Emily volunteers. She's actually trying to sway people to eat at the Pizza Shack. Who says Emily Kmetko isn't Employee of the Month material?
AJ considers the suggestion. "Great. I'll take a large margarita, large Carnivore and a bucket of hot wings. And I'll be sure to tip generously."
"The best sentence in the English language." Emily effortlessly works the cash register and AJ hands her $100 for a $25 order. He looks around the empty dining room and over at Carter who flings out his arms as he raps with the radio, thinking he's Eminem. AJ tells her to keep the change all to herself and Emily pockets it. After all, they learn in first day training that the customer is always right. "Carter! Can you watch the front? I have a request."
"Sure." Carter turns down the music and walks out to sees Kaylie and AJ. A blank idiocy eats away at his face and leaves a zombie in place. On her way to the kitchen, Emily snaps her fingers in front of his face and Carter manages to mutter, "Oh. Kaylie…hi."
Kaylie doesn't say anything and AJ moves in, giving Carter a hard time. Emily doesn't hear any of the conversation because she goes into the back and scrubs her hands clean. She is a quick learner, but it took her forever to figure out the art of making pizza. Seeing Carter flinging dough like it was the easiest thing in the world only made Emily more determined to master it. It might have taken months, but now she's an expert.
"I'm allowed to be back here, right?" Kaylie asks.
"As long as you don't touch anything," Emily says while she continues to work. "Did you seriously leave your brother out there with your ex-boyfriend?"
"AJ took Amelia to the arcade," Kaylie explains. "Since when are you worried about Carter?"
"Since I'm kind of depending on him to run this place." Emily dresses the two disks of dough with sauce and toppings before bringing them to the oven. "Do you feel that? You're just radiating Kaylie wants to talk about something important, but don't know how to start."
Arms behind her back, spinning on her toes, Kaylie asks, "You see through me that easily?"
"Like a window." Emily laughs, putting the pizzas in the brick oven. "What's on your mind?"
"Just the most awkward makeout session of my life," Kaylie answers. "Nothing that big."
"With who?"
"Em."
"Nicky, right," Emily says quickly. "And why was it awkward exactly?"
Kaylie explains and Emily tries not to laugh, settling on a sympathetic smile. Kaylie cares so much and when she cares to this degree she ends up obsessing. She talks with her hands and can't keep still. Instead of trying to find a solution or sooth her worries, Emily simply goes over and hugs her. The words fade away, the stress with it, and Kaylie returns the hug.
"I thought you needed that right about now," Emily says.
"Yup. I really did."
Student. Sister. Reject. Tutor. Mediator. Co-worker. Friend.
In all truth, Emily needed that hug just as much as Kaylie.
…
Despite her faults and flaws, Lauren Tanner is a good friend and Payson has proof.
Though gymnastics usually takes up most of her time, it doesn't sever all communication with her friends. They text constantly and it's rare, but means a great deal to Payson when Lauren's texts aren't all irritating inquiries about her relationship with Austin. For instance:
Heads up. Yr girl Parker is losing it. Drunk tweet. Drunk tweet. Drunk tweet. Ill save yr innocence from the deets. Just thought u should know. If I was spiraling I'd want u to know. Have a good day, bb. Xo
Lauren isn't just talking about changing, but actually working towards it. While one friend is improving, another is falling harder. That talk with Kim must not have done the job if Kelly is still drinking and doing stupid things like broadcasting it to the public. During lunch, Payson tries to call her, but Kelly doesn't answer. At this point, she has no earthly idea how to handle this. It puts her in a bad mood for most of the day, but Austin always makes things better.
"Okay, Pay, your turn."
"Hmm. I spy with my little eyes," Payson lets her voice trail off for a second as she looks around the Rock, "a lioness stalking her prey. Oh, and she's in heat."
Austin surveys their surroundings and laughs when he sees one of the junior gymnasts' moms trying to flirt with Sasha. She's a bleach blonde stick figure with a boob job, made obvious by the tiny youth-size, practically see-through, bedazzled t-shirt she's wearing. Eyeing the nearest exit, Sasha is well aware of her intentions.
"Oh, man, Sasha looks uncomfortable."
"Because her eyes scream sexual assault," Payson says. "I don't blame him. Even my mom tries to set him up with her single friends and my dad is trying to find him a house—all unasked for. They're honestly too much sometimes especially when they're together."
"Your parents are just nice like that. I think it's cool. If there were more people like the Keelers in the world maybe the world wouldn't be such a horrible place. Since we're on the topic, did your dad say anything about me?"
"He said you look taller on TV and asked me if you were ever in the military or jail because of your tattoos."
"You told him neither, right?"
"I told him you did a little time, but that you learned from the error of your ways," Payson explains, very seriously. "I also told both my parents that I'm dropping my dream of the Olympics all together and you and me are going to elope and have a million Little Tuckers."
Austin smirks at her. "Well, if that's what you want…"
Payson hits him playfully. "Your turn."
"Hmm." Austin takes a look around. "I spy with my little eyes…someone trying to live their failed gymnastics dreams through their daughter, who would rather be at the mall, wearing that other mom's inappropriately tight t-shirt and getting hit on by boys."
Payson finds whom Austin is talking about almost too easily. There's a mom off to the side, talking to her daughter who can't be more than twelve-years-old. It always rubs Payson the wrong way to see parents who yell at their kids and suck the love out of the sport.
"I'm so glad my mom isn't like that," Payson mutters.
"Same here. I was kind of a troubled kid, starting fights on the playground, getting other kids in trouble, the Ringleader. Before my mom started homeschooling, they'd do these tests on me, thinking I had a learning disorder. I just had all this energy and no outlet and then someone suggested gymnastics. My dad didn't get it—wanted me to play football—but my mom signed me up and turns out I'm pretty good at it."
"Really?" Payson asks with mock confusion. "I hadn't noticed."
Austin leans in close, trying to be intimidating, but Payson isn't one bit deterred. "Like I was saying," he continues, "when everyone was saying I had a future in gymnastics, my parents didn't get it. Sometimes I think they still don't."
"Tell me about them. Your parents."
"What have I told you so far?"
"Next to nothing," Payson replies. "I remember we were in that bar in Texas last summer, talking about Faith and Coach Moretti and age differences. You mentioned your parents."
"Right." Austin nods. "My dad is twelve years older than my mom. She was seventeen and he was twenty-nine when they met. Such an odd couple." Austin laughs to himself. "And, yeah, they've been together for twenty-five years now."
"That's amazing."
"Isn't it? My mom is the sweetest. Listening to her talk is like eating ice cream cake all day and never getting sick, but when she needs to be, she gets fired up. My dad's this giant bear-man, old school and stubborn. He's got a temper and the only time I've ever seen him compromise is when my mom talks him into it. My sister takes after him so you could imagine. Dealing with my dad and my sister is a lot like dealing with KP, actually."
Payson's smile dims. They spent all lunch talking about Kelly and what they could do to help. She isn't answering anyone's calls and Austin is prepared to drive to Denver after practice and confront her head-on. It makes her happy to see how concerned he is, but also a little dejected. If laidback, carefree Austin Tucker is worried then it must mean something bad.
Not wanting to get into it about Kelly again and bring about all those sad, helpless feelings, Payson asks, "And when's the last time you saw your family?"
"Christmas. My dad's just happy I'm over my partying phase. Ha, get this, I walk into the house and my mom looks right at me and straight up asks, 'who's the girl?' as if she just knows. Something tells me my mom and yours would get along fine."
"Did you tell her about me?" Payson asks, nervous and having no clue why.
"Maybe," Austin says, just to torture her with his teasing. He moves his hand to take hers and Payson can't tell if he still makes her nervous after all this time or if she's just nervous someone will see. "Would it be so bad if I told my mom I may be interested in the strongest, most incredible, talented girl I've ever met?"
The way Austin makes her forget all the things they shouldn't be and only think of the things they can be, it's a loaded gun. Pointed at their hearts with a finger on the trigger.
"You know," she says, "I'm still just sixteen."
"But you're turning seventeen…two months from now," he reminds her, always the optimist. It touches her a little that he remembers when her birthday is.
"It honestly doesn't bother you that we have to put us, whatever we are, on hold because of gymnastics?"
"I don't really look at it like we're on hold," Austin says, playing with her fingers. "Just going slow, which is probably the best thing to do right now. I came in fifth at Worlds. Fifth place, Payson. Even KP got a medal and she was either drunk, hungover or pissed and breaking hotel furniture the entire time in Rio. I have a rep to reclaim and a title to defend and you have so much going for you. I think we both have more than enough to deal with right now."
Payson hums. "You have your amazing moments."
"Moments? That's it?"
Payson smiles, she just can't help herself, and would do more if she didn't spot Becca making her way over to them. Payson slowly pulls her hand away from his and Austin scans over their surroundings.
"Hey, Keeler the Third!" Austin shouts. Becca hates being called that, part of why Austin insists on doing so. "Tell me you finally, finally took down that poster of Conrad in your room and put up one of me instead. You know that's the smart thing to do."
"Payson, your boyfriend is weird."
Payson is sick of denying it so she doesn't. "Becks, where's mom?"
"On the phone. She told me to tell you that you're driving me to Lacey's house tonight. I'm sleeping over and we're I'm going to re-watch Conrad at Worlds."
"A satanic Conrad worshipping party," Austin says. "Sounds fun."
Becca deadpans. "I still don't see how you two being a couple makes any sense."
"Yeah," Payson agrees, "but that's sort of what I like about it."
Austin grins. "What do you know? We have something besides gymnastics in common."
Austin insists on walking Payson out, but before they do, she makes it a point to check with her teammates and be social. So far being captain of the Rock's elite hasn't made that drastic of a change in her life, but people do look at her differently. Instead of blocking out everyone and concentrate on herself, Payson has these other girls to look out for.
Violet and Scarlett notice the way Austin trails after Payson like a puppy and they have questions, but luckily they aren't at that point of teammateship where they outright asks. After saying goodbye to the girls, they go to the front and Austin holds the door open for her. Right as Payson's about to walk out, Conrad rushes in, nearly knocking her over.
"Hey, Connie! Watch where you're going!" Austin yells.
"Shit," Conrad curses, reaching out a long arm towards her, but Payson already regained her balance. "Sorry, Pay. I didn't see you there."
"It's fine," Payson assures him. "Where's the fire, Coop?"
"Marty's outside."
A million things hit Payson at once. She still gets angry sometimes over Marty abandoning the Rock. Payson has worked with him ever since she was a junior. He always took a special interest in her because he could feel she was meant for greatness. All throughout her adolescence it was Payson's dream to work with Marty and when she finally got to, the affair reared its ugly head and the Rock lost both Marty and Kaylie because of it.
Marty tried to talk to her after resigning, but Payson was so upset she couldn't even meet him face-to-face. When she found out Marty took a head coaching job at Denver Elite and would be working with Kelly Parker, the It Girl of gymnastics at the time, it only made everything hurt more. Payson did the only thing she could, took the pain and put it into gymnastics.
She remembers seeing Marty's face at Nationals when she scooped gold right out from under Kelly Parker. The look on Kelly's face, the over all disappointment, the hints of defeat and the tint of fear, it had been satisfying, but then she looks over at Marty and he smiled and clapped like he was proud of her. Payson beat his #1 Meal Ticket Gymnast and Marty didn't look upset.
"Why is he here?" Conrad asks. "Probably to tell me what an idiot I am for doing what I did. And he'll probably try to talk me out of it like he tried to talk me out of moving to the Rock. The man sucks at normal conversation, but he can whip out an inspirational talk like no one's business. Have you noticed?"
"Yeah, I've noticed," she says flatly. "I'll go see what he wants."
"Really?"
"Since you're apparently too chicken to do it yourself," Payson says playfully. Conrad is anxious just at the idea of talking to Marty like their former coach has Jedi powers. Conrad gives her a guilty smile and Payson walks the rest of the way outside with Austin.
Marty still drives an old, ugly broken down car. It's parked in one of the spaces towards the back of the lot and he's just sitting there. Payson walks over with her head held high like the champion he taught her to be.
When he's only a couple feet away, Payson has a clear view of Marty sitting behind the wheel. Every time she sees him, no matter how much time has passed, to Payson Marty always looks exactly the same from his tan skin to his short, dark hair. He gets out of his car to meet her. For a long moment they just stare, size each other up, search for something to say.
"You're freaking out Conrad by being here." And that's Payson's chosen opening line.
Marty chuckles. "He's always performed best under pressure."
"Pressure and fear aren't the same thing," Payson points out, searching Marty's face that's often expressionless and hard to read. He isn't looking at her, but around her.
Marty's eyes are on Austin when he says, "What's with Tucker? He's looking at us like I'm about to pull out the chloroform rag and toss you in the trunk. Are you dating him?"
"I don't see why you'd care," Payson says. "You aren't my coach."
"Payson, just because I don't coach you doesn't mean I don't care."
She ignores the comment and asks, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to see your mom."
"Why," Payson asks accusingly. "What's going on?"
Marty stares her down, makes her feel like a child, but she isn't one anymore. Payson hasn't considered herself a child for a long time now. Back when he was her coach, Marty would wear this one particular look and all his gymnasts would submitted to his authority. That isn't true anymore. Marty isn't her coach and Payson refuses to back down.
Heels hit the asphalt, something between a walk and a run. "Hey, Marty," Kim says, coming up behind Payson. "Sorry about the holdup. I had a few last minute things to take care of."
"No problem, Kim."
"What's going on?" Payson asks. This time she looks to her mom, demanding the truth. Kim and Marty exchange looks. "No, no telepathically coming up with an excuse. What's really going on? Mom, what's he doing here and why are you meeting up?"
Never one to lie to her children, Kim answers, "Payson, it's about Kelly."
Fearfully looking from her mother to Marty, Payson asks, "What happened now?"
"From what I've seen, she's getting worse every day," Marty says. "She missed practice today and she isn't answering her phone. When I called her house to see if she was dying or something, surprisingly, her dad answered."
"Surprisingly?" Kim asks. "Why is that surprising?"
"Parker, he, uh," Marty mumbles. "Richard Parker, businessman and renown plastic surgeon, books years in advanced with women convinced their lives will be over if they look their real age. He also owns a lot of the private health care services in Denver, oh, and he somehow finds the time to take trips to out of the country to fix up orphans and diplomats." That explains why he's always out of town. "I can't think of a single time he's seen Kelly compete."
"Maybe you should talk to him," Kim suggests.
"I'm coming to you for advice on how to deal with a bratty teenage girl and that's what you give me, Kim?"
"Well, he is Kelly's dad," Kim says exasperatedly. "He must notice the change in her behavior and maybe if you work with him, you two can convince her that what she's doing isn't healthy and that things need to change. If her dad and her coach can't reach her then who can?"
"It's a little more complicated than that," Marty explains. "Parker level complicated is a whole other game. If Richard had his way, Kelly wouldn't even be in a gym. As you can imagine, he isn't a big fan of mine. The guy would probably use this as an opportunity to get her to quit and I'm not gonna let that happen."
"You have to try and compromise," Kim urges him. "Kelly's health might be depending on it."
"Okay," Marty gives in. "I'll give him a call."
"And keep me posted," Kim says. Marty nods. Kim turns to her purse and pulls out a brown unmarked envelope. She hands it to Marty who takes it and hugs it tight to his chest. "Everything should be in there. I don't know why you couldn't just come into the Rock and collect your leftover things yourself."
"It's Belov's stomping ground now. I thought it'd be best to handle it this way. Plus, I had to update you, both of you, on Kelly. Thanks again, Kim, for grabbing my things and bringing this Parker problem to my attention."
Payson's eyes go wide. No. Kim didn't tell Marty about the other night, did she?
"No problem," Kim says. "Kelly is a strong, driven gymnast and she's so young. I refuse to sit by and watch her throw herself away. Just let her know that it might not feel like it, but she does have people who care about her and she can't keep living like this."
"Will do." Marty pulls his car door open and starts to get in.
"Marty, why don't you join us for dinner tonight?" Kim asks. Payson turns to her mom as if she doesn't even recognize her. "Mark is in town and we haven't had you over in so long—"
"No!" Payson shouts. She doesn't know where it comes from. Without even looking, Payson already knows her mom isn't thrilled about her little lip of the lips. "I mean…"
"It's fine. I have things to take care of. It was nice seeing you, though. Both of you."
"Bye, Marty," Kim says. With his head hanging, Marty gets into his car and drives off. "Payson Elizabeth Keeler! I have never seen such disrespect, especially from you of all people! Becca, maybe, but you, Pay? What was that?"
"Mom, did you forget that he's the guy who broke up Kaylie's family?" Payson counters, her control slipping and giving way to emotion. "He's the guy who left the Rock and me when I needed my coach! And you want me to just pretend none of that happened?"
"Payson, I understand why you're angry, I do, but you can't hold on to that forever," Kim tells her. "You hold on to that and it is going eat away at you. You will become bitter and sad and that's not who you are. Sometimes you need to just let go." Kim grabs a hold of her wrist and gives it a squeeze. "Payson, let it go."
Her anger tells her to hold her breath till she turns blue and blacks out. At least then her pride will stay intact. Taking her mom's advice to heart, Payson doesn't. She can't. She slowly lets out a breath and breathes in deep.
…
Authors' Note: Was the make out scene with Kaylie and Nicky more awkward or hot and how was Lauren's little striptease?
Review.
#WeFab #LLD2 #LLDforever
