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Truly, Madly, Deeply Page 5
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“No. I would not,” I agreed.
“Good. I put a hundred dollar bill in your wallet,” he said nonchalantly.
“What?!” my voice rose an octave.
“I don’t want you going to your mom for money,” he said, trying to offer explanation.
“I don’t need your money Jaron,” I spat.
“Do you have any money,” he asked sardonically.
“Well, no,” I admitted.
“Then, yes, you do,” he replied.
I sat quiet, with the phone to my ear. He was right. I had spent all my birthday money and I really didn’t need to ask my poor broke momma for money. That’s when it hit me. I was seventeen. It was time for me to get a job.
“Natalie,’ his voice was unsure.
“I’m here. I’m going to look for a job,” I decided aloud. Jaron chuckled. Not the lust laden chuckle that made me weak in the knees. This one was different, and I was insulted.
“Why are you laughing,” I asked hatefully.
“First of all, drop the attitude,” he ordered and even through the phone, he made me swallow hard.
“Sorry,” I apologized instantly.
“Second of all, you don’t need a job, school’s about to start.”
“I can work part time,” I said. The line fell silent for a second.
“I don’t want to argue. I’ll call you tomorrow evening. I’ll try not to call so late, okay baby girl?’ his endearment melted me and totally diverted my attention from the matter of a job.
“Okay,” I said whinily.
“Be good,” he demanded.
“I will,” I assured and the line went dead.
I lay staring up at the ceiling for hours, glad that Tiff had slept through the conversation. She was right, this was definitely a boyfriend, girlfriend relationship, and Jaron was definitely in control.
Thursday morning, I showered and dressed before Tiffany rolled out of bed.
“Wow, you’re up and at em early,” she observed.
“I, am going to look for a job,” I said proudly. I never promised I wouldn’t.
“A job!?” Tiffany was aghast. Her dad was a doctor, so a job never crossed her mind.
“I’m broke Tiffany. I’m seventeen. I shouldn’t be asking my mom for money. And I don’t want Jaron slipping hundred dollar bills in my purse,” I mumbled.
“Come again?’ she asked leaning in the bathroom door.
I cut my eyes and looked at her through the mirror while I brushed my hair. It had really grown over the past few weeks and I wondered to myself if being sexually active made it grow faster somehow. I took a deep breath and exhaled.
“Jaron called last night and informed me that he left money in my wallet,” I smirked disapprovingly.
“Yep, boyfriend. Or should I say, Sugar Daddy,” she taunted.
I shook my head rolling my eyes. “I don’t want his money. I’d rather have a job.”
“Okay, whatever. What does he do for a living anyway. He obviously doesn’t have a job. He’s been with you 24/7 for weeks now.”
I drew my lips in a thin line and grimaced slightly. Another something I didn’t know about my, boyfriend. Tiffany stared expectantly at me, then shook her head slowly.
“You’re kidding right? You don’t even know what he does. What do you guys talk about?” she pressed.
I felt the pink enter my cheeks. The truth was, we didn’t talk a lot. I grinned back at her.
“Oh, my, God,” she rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. “Go find a job! I’ll be here waiting!”
I made the rounds, which consisted of the gas station and the dairy bar in Prairieview, so I hopped the mountain and also applied for part time jobs at the Sav a Sum, Sonic, EZ Mart, Newman’s Hardware, Newton’s Drug, and a weekend job at Paradise Doughnuts, in Belleview.
After all the running around, I had to stop and use twenty of the money Jaron gave me for gas, and my growling stomach reminded me that my tank wasn’t the only thing that was empty. I called to give Tiff a heads up and picked up a pizza and drove back across the mountain feeling really good about my job prospects. At least three of the managers had seemed very receptive and friendly.
“Oh thank God, I’m starving,” Tiffany said dramatically as I walked in and set the pizza on the kitchen counter. “So, did you find a job?”
“Maybe. I filled out five or six applications. Keep your fingers crossed,” I said hopefully.
“If you get a job, I will NEVER see you. Between that and Jaron, you won’t have any time for me,” her lip puckered.
“I will see you every day at school, and ball games.”
“Wow, that’s sad,” she declared.
“What?”
“School and ball games, that’s all the time you will have for your best friend. But, hey, I guess that’s better than the last three weeks.”
I shook my head and rolled my eyes and we both started laughing. We piled on the couch and watched an eighties movie marathon. It was fun and relaxing and it occurred to me for the first time how intense it was being with Jaron and it was hard to determine if it was a positive or a negative. I did miss him terribly, so I decided it was a positive. But just hanging and being silly with Tiffany was great and exactly what I needed.
Around 9:15 pm, fifteen minutes into Pretty in Pink, I realized I had left my phone in my purse, which I had left in my truck. My chest tightened with panic. If Jaron had tried to call he would probably be upset. I jumped up and bolted for the door.
“What’s the matter,” Tiffany shouted, hot on my trail.
I didn’t stop to answer. I swung the truck door open to hear my phone ringing from inside my bag. I rummaged frantically. Just as my fingers wrapped around it, it stopped. “Crap!” I checked the display. Six missed calls, all from Jaron. I didn’t have my voicemail set up yet, so there weren’t any. But I could imagine what they would be. Before I could press the call button, to call him back, it started to ring again.
“Hello,” I answered breathlessly.
“Hey,” I bit my lip at the icy tone. “I’ve been calling. Where’ve you been?”
“I’m at Tiffany’s. I forgot my purse in the truck and just realized what time it was,” I regretfully tried to explain.
“Why are you out of breath?” his tone remained flat.
“I jumped up and ran outside when I realized my phone was out here. It stopped ringing just as I pulled it out of my purse. I was just fixing to call you back.”
“Where did you go in your truck today?”
I debated on telling him about the applications. In his current mood, it might not be the best time, but if I actually got a job, and he asked when I had applied for it, he would know I lied. So, “I filled out some job applications, here and in Belleview,” I explained nervously.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Tiffany, arms crossed, head cocked to the side, as she listened, gauging my tone. I bit my lip and closed my eyes as I waited for his reaction. To my surprise there was no comment on the subject, but I felt sure I would hear about it later.
“Alright. Well, it’s after 9:00; you’re not going anywhere else tonight, right,” another one of his question/orders.
“No, we’re just eating pizza and watching movies.”
“Who,” he quizzed.
“Just me and Tiffany,” I clarified.
“Ok. I’ll check in tomorrow evening.”
“Ok. Jaron?”
“Yeah.”
“I miss you,” I said quietly, not really wanting Tiffany to hear, afraid it would hurt her feelings.
“I miss you too,” his tone softened a little and it brought a smile to my face. “Bye baby girl,” he said before the line fell silent.
When I turned to face Tiffany I could see it all over her face. “Please don’t Tiffany,” I begged.
“Not only is he your boyfriend, he’s your controlling boyfriend,” she declared. I glared back at her and she raised her hands in surrender. “That’s it, th
at’s all I’m gonna say,” she said turning to walk back to the house. “Come on. We’re missing Molly Ringwald.” I felt a wave of relief but somehow, like the job hunting subject with Jaron, I felt like I had not heard the last of this subject from Tiff.
Friday was a typical day at the Gates house, lazing by the pool, except we had company. Brian and Richard had stopped by to hang out. I was glad, it had been weeks since I had seen my buddy Richard and this might be the only opportunity I would have for a while.
“Hey girl,” Richard greeted me enthusiastically, “where the hell you been hiding?”
“And damn, what kind of vitamins you been taking,” Brian added, lowering his shades and peeking over the top at me. Tiffany slapped him on the arm jealously and dragged him into the pool.
Richard shook his head at his friend, “You do look good though,” he complimented.
“Thanks. But I’m the same as I was the last time you saw me, my hair has just grown a little,” I pointed out, pulling at my pony tail.
Richard leaned in a little closer as if to tell me a secret, “Your hair isn’t the only thing that’s grown,” his eyes couldn’t keep from darting to my chest, that admittedly, was filling out my bikini top a lot better these days.
I blushed, not only at Richard’s attention, but again the thought crossed my mind that my being sexually active had caused a growth spurt and somehow everyone knew.
“Stop it,” I said, unable to conceal an embarrassed grin.
Richard and I had been friends almost as long as me and Tiffany and even though he looked at me, he didn’t look at me. Not the way Jaron did. Not the way some other guys did. He was like a brother.
“Shut up and get in the pool,” I said, shoving him backwards into the water before canon balling beside him.
Hours later, Richard and I lay by the pool chit chatting. I tried to field his questions about Jaron without blushing. I was grateful the sun was bright and a good excuse for having red cheeks.
“He’s a lot older than us, ain’t he,” he asked.
“Yeah, he’s a little older,” I answered vaguely. I trusted Richard, but I didn’t want to bring any attention to our age gap, to anyone.
“He’s got a reputation, you know,” Richard pointed out, concernedly.
“I know,” I found myself in short answer mode again.
“He’s kind of scary Natalie. I mean, you know what he did when he was our age, right?”
I turned my head sharply to look at him, but before I could answer, Tiffany came skipping out of the house, Brian close behind. They had disappeared inside some time ago.
“Hey, we’re going to ride with them to the bonfire tonight, sound good,” Tiffany was obviously excited about the prospect.
Brian was the quarterback of the football team and Tiffany relished the idea of attending the event on his arm. Jaron’s disapproving glare flashed in my mind, but I couldn’t stand to disappoint her.
“Sure, sounds fun,” I agreed, trying to sound enthusiastic.
Besides, Jaron wouldn’t be back until Sunday. I just had to make sure I answered when he called, let him know I was at the bonfire for a little while and all would be good. I hoped.
At 8:30 my cell phone rang, while I was sitting in the corner booth at the Dairy Bar. I jumped up and went to the bathroom to answer. “Hello.”
“Hey, answered on the first call, good girl,” though a little patronizing, his tone was much more pleasant and approving and that made me happy.
“Yes, I’ve been waiting for you to call.”
“Really? What are you doing?” he asked curiously, I could’ve sworn he knew I was up to something.
I proceeded with caution. “I’m at the Dairy Bar right now. Then we were going to go to the bonfire for a little while.”
“Whose we and what bonfire,” he asked immediately.
I bit lip, knowing I was about to tell my first lie to Jaron, “Me and Tiffany and it’s the football team’s bonfire. They have one every year before school starts.”
“Why are you going? You’re not a cheerleader and damn sure not a football player.”
My brow crinkled and I frowned in agitation. “To support our team and my friends who are cheerleaders and football players,” I retorted.
Jaron grunted softly on the other end of the line and I knew he was scowling. I swallowed hard and scrambled to rescue the conversation.
“We’re just going to swing by for an hour or so. We will be home by ten, okay?” I tried to sound extra sweet.
“Okay, be careful. And no drinking.”
“No, no drinking,” I agreed, trying to conceal my goofy smile from my voice. Moments later he was gone and I snapped my phone shut triumphantly. Free and clear, I thought.
“Everything okay,” Tiffany asked, a look of apprehension on her face.
I grinned slyly, “All good,” I assured, feeling like the master of my universe. It never occurred to me that he relented way too easily.
We left the restaurant and piled in the cab of Brian’s truck and headed for the bonfire. The cheerleaders dressed in short shorts and tight Prairieview High Bears, t-shirts, chanted loudly, pumping up the crowd and the players. The noise and excitement rumbled as we all cheered for our team. The whole scene culminated in Brian throwing a green football jersey, representing our long-time rivals and the first game of the season, onto the fire. The crowd erupted. Once the ritual was complete, the party started. Music pumped loudly through car speakers and alcohol inevitably began to flow. I nervously checked my watch, 10:22 pm. I didn’t really intend on being home by 10:00, but I half expected Jaron to call and see if I was. I checked my phone. No missed calls. It was reassuring. I was feeling confident, and when Tiffany approached me with a styro foam cup full of cheap apple wine, I accepted and gleefully joined the party.
I had decided to take advantage of Jaron’s absence and wear my new mini skirt that he had declared, too short. I had to admit, he was a little right. I seemed to be getting more attention than usual. Several of the guys on the team had whistled and hollered at me. Tiffany nudged me playfully as we walked by giggling, the wine starting to take effect.
“Hey, why don’t we ride around a little bit before you girls have to go home,” Brian suggested. Even a little tipsy, I recognized his attempt to get us away from the crowd, and get Tiffany alone. But, she was all for it so who was I to spoil her fun.
We loaded up, squished together in the cab of the truck. Richard draped his arm across the back of the seat, just to give us more room and make it more comfortable. We drove the back roads, listening to music and cutting up, stopping occasionally to fill our cups. Brian pulled down a long dark road that led to the lake. He made the loop and stopped the truck, turned off the engine, but left the music playing.
“We’ll be back in a minute,” he winked, taking Tiffany by the hand a pulling her out the driver’s side door. The door shut behind her and they disappeared into the darkness. Richard and I sat in uncomfortable silence for a second before busting out in laughter.
“He’s not exactly subtly, is he,” Richard stated.
“No, not at all,” I laughed.
I fiddled with the radio, my cup, my hair, anything to divert my attention from Richard’s arm behind my shoulders on the seat. “You look really good tonight,” he said quietly.
I swallowed hard. I felt really uncomfortable being complimented by him. He was supposed to pull my hair, and kick the back of my heels when I walked, and give me wet willies, all the annoying things that brothers do. Not look at me, the way he was looking at me, and compliment me.
“Um Richard. I…” I stuttered, unsure of what to say.
“I know. You have a boyfriend. A very scary boyfriend,” he mumbled, as if to remind himself.
“Yes, yes, I have a boyfriend. Sorry.” I apologized, not even sure for what.
Finally, the truck door opened and the two love birds climbed back in. Just before Brian fired it up to leave, a set of head lights rounded
the corner and moved slowly down the narrow road toward us. There was only one way in and one way out of the spot where we were parked, so Brian waited for it to pass before pulling onto the road. But it didn’t pass. The truck stopped about twenty feet directly in front of us. The guys thought nothing of it. Assuming it was one of their team mates from the party. A sick swirling of butterflies started in the pit of my stomach. I looked at Tiffany, dread etched across my face.
“What’s the matter Natalie,” she asked, clueless.
I didn’t answer. I turned my attention back to the road and the truck ahead of us. The cab light came on as the door opened and went off when it shut. A tall, broad shouldered figure came out of the darkness and walked toward us. With the headlights at his back, his face was unclear, but I knew instantly, by the way he moved, it was Jaron. Tiffany gasped in recognition, as well.
“No, freakin, way,” she said, slurring slightly.
When he had almost reached the truck I told Richard to let me out. “No, Natalie. He looks pissed,” Tiffany said grabbing my arm.
“He is pissed,” I confirmed. “That’s why you need to let me out and leave.”
“No!” Tiffany protested.
“Should I lock the door,” Richard asked nervously, Jaron just a couple of feet from the truck.
“No, he’ll bust out the window,” I said. Positive that’s exactly what he would do, if we tried to lock him out.
We all froze when Jaron opened the passenger door, especially Richard, who stared straight ahead, his hands in his lap. I could feel Jaron’s glare burning a hole through me. I forced my eyes to meet his.
“Get out of the truck, Natalie,” he said calm and cold.
“You need to let me out Richard,” I said again, pushing against his knee gently. Jaron’s eyes darted to my hand as it touched Richard’s leg, and then back to my face.
“No,” Tiffany whispered as I pushed my cup into her hand.
“Yeah, Richard, you need to let her out,” Jaron repeated, obviously losing his patience.
Hesitantly, Richard slid out of the seat. Jaron stepped back allowing just enough room for me to slide by my friend. Richard was a big guy, but he seemed to shrink as Jaron loomed over him menacingly. I brushed by Jaron, anxious to draw him away from my friends. He grabbed my wrist, still standing inside the open truck door.