Page 130
Story: Wanting What's Wrong
As for me, I don’t drive. The idea of all the rules and the possibility of ever being pulled over are more than my OCD can process.
I knew Allen sold our old summer house and bought a new place, but what I didn’t know was none of our stuff had been moved in from the old house yet. It’s in storage for some dumb reason and the new place came ‘furnished’ if you can call it that. So, it’s like living in an AirBnb. It’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but it’s smaller than our other summer place and just…impersonal.
Cindy nibbles her lower lip, scanning her crew who all grinknowingly at each other. “South side.” She sniffs. “Nice.Quaint.”
In Harbor Shores, where the rich and bored spend their summers, quaint is another word for low-end.
I hear Jackson’s voice…
Don’t take shit from anyone, Mina. You need to realize you are strong and amazing. Don’t doubt yourself so much, lil’ mint…
I wish he was around all the time. And not just to protect me, like he’s done my whole life if I’m being honest. But, the NFL draft is coming up and it’s just another reminder that his life is taking him to do great things, far away. More so than college, even. The empty hole inside of me is growing as big as his fame and success.
He flew in for my graduation, took an all-night flight after some charity bowl game thing. We’ve seen less and less of each other since he left for training and college and I went away to Chatsbury Prep in Connecticut while he played quarterback for USC.
California. So. So. Far. Away.
Tucker, one of the summer kids I’ve vaguely known for years, chuckles as he taps on his screen. “Hey, everyone, listen to this. Millionaire heiress Lena Caruso has been found alive and well after a search involving three agencies and a life-changing reward offered by her shipping magnate father.”
“Lena’s been found?” Cindy sounds mildly interested and I recall the Caruso’s owning one of the largest houses in Harbor Shores.
“Yeah, but it’s who she was foundwith,” Tucker says, still grinning. “Some lumberjack from fuckingWest Virginia. I bet her dad was furious. I bet her knocked her rich ass the fuck up so he could get on the Caruso money train.”
Tucker makes a motion like he’s pulling the train whistle in the air as Cindy frowns on a shrug showing a hint of humanity. “At least they were willing to do something daring for love.”
“Ohcome on. He’spoor.It’s not love, it’s finance.”
“I think it’s romantic,” Cindy snaps on a glare at Tucker. “I hope they tell her dad to fuck off and go live in their log cabin. Anyway,” she turns my way, “if Jackson isn’t here, we should go. Don’t want to keep Wilhelmina from her…what is in the bag? A sack lunch?”
The brown paper crinkles as I clutch the rolled over top, easing it behind my back.
“I gotta go.” It’s the best I can manage as far as not taking shit right now, but getting away is a form of taking control, right?
“Let’s go.” Reagan Murrow, Cindy’s right-hand woman nods down the street where I see a flashy silver Bentley convertible. “You’re leaving for your road trip to New York inthreedays, I want to have some fun before you disappear on me for a month. Top-down time!”
Did she just say New York? Road trip?
Summon courage. Hear Jackson’s voice. Speak up!
“You’re going to New York?” I choke out, attempting to sound casual. “Drivingto New York?”
I grip the paper bag as though it’s full of diamonds. The final zipper is inside. With a few days to finish some seams and hand work, I could be ready…
Reagan rolls her eyes, inspecting her manicure as Cindy nods, snapping her perfect Angelina Jolie lips together.
“Yes. Taking my grad present on an inaugural adventure. Just me, the open road and 650 horsepower. My dad guilt buys me anything since mom ran off to France with her girlfriend. What did your dad buy you for graduation?” She purses her lips, the silence making me squirm as she waits, but she wouldn’t really be interested even if I had an answer. Her dad is HarsonHilton,a Fortune 500 mogul and a complete push-over for his daughter. “Have to meet him for some,” She flutters her hand toward the picture-perfect blue sky, “businessthing. He likes thehappy daughter by my side image. All American perfect family.” I don’t miss the little crack in her façade as she finishes. “Anyway, yes, New York here I come.”
I pin my eyes on the car, then back on Cindy.
This is thatthingdropping from the sky, Mina. You gotta grab it when it swings by…
“You guys want to come over tonight?” I blurt out before my brain stomps on the brakes.
Five sets of eyes flash my way. Various expressions of surprise and humor decorating their freakishly perfect Abercrombie faces.
“Party at Mina’s?” Tucker, who’s always poking at his phone, pipes up. “I’m down. Nothing like breaking in a new house to start the summer. Maybe a mid-night swim Mina?” He chuckles, elbowing Jeremy, who is another of the summer group of kids who laughs and my face flames.
They know I hate the water. Three summers ago, Tucker’s family invited my family out on their fifty-foot yacht and I had an utter panic attack breakdown when my parents tried to pull me out of the car at the Marina.
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