Authors: Valia Lind
"Yes, I'm alright. Thanks, Mom." I felt tears prickling at the back of my eyes, but I didn't want to lose it in front of them. Mom moved off to the side, but dad wasn't done.
"You need to start taking responsibility for your actions. You're not a child anymore." Dad ground out between his teeth.
"I know that, Dad!" I yelled. "Don't you think I know that? But right now, this one time, please just ask me how I am and forget about the applications. Just please, once, just care that I'm okay." I sounded tired, even to my own ears, but I couldn't take this constant battering much longer. I saw something flicker in Dad's eyes.
"Of course I care," he said, and for a second I thought he sounded as tired as I felt. "I'm glad you're okay." He gave me a small pat on my back and surprisingly, walked away without adding a lecture.
Saturday's plan is to do absolutely nothing. I don't want to see or talk to anyone, especially Grayson. My mind needs a break and I'm taking it with a vengeance.
Padding around in my pajamas, I head downstairs to find my mother in the kitchen making lists. Since Thanksgiving is only twenty-two days away, she has to start preparing.
"Hey, honey," she greets me without glancing up from her papers. "Did you like that pie I made last year? With the lemons?"
"I did. And the cream one." She glances up at that, giving me a grin. She knows I love her cream pie the best, and if I had to choose out of all her pies I’d pick that one every time. I take a drink of my orange juice, shrugging innocently and watch as she writes it down. When the doorbell rings, we both jump.
"Are we expecting anyone?" I ask and Mom shakes her head, already back to her lists. Dad is off on some job conference, and won't return till later tonight, so it's been just me and her for a few days. Not that I mind. Things haven't exactly been the best between us lately. Shaking the melancholy away, I head for the door and pull it open.
Grayson's grinning face meets me on the other end of it.
"What do you want?" I sound grouchy but tough luck, he's ruining my plans of not seeing him today.
"Hello to you too, Gorgeous." I wait for him to say something else, squish away the warm feeling his words bring. When he doesn't continue, I move my hands to my hips in the most annoyed pose I can muster.
"Seriously, didn't I just see you?"
"Sure. Can I come in?"
"No."
"Thanks," he says, pushing past me. If I was a foot taller I might have a chance at stopping him, but as it is, I jump back to avoid any bodily contact.
"Nice house," he says as if he's never been here before. I don't reply, just stand with the door open and my arms crossed. He reaches past me, making me jump again, as he shuts the door.
"The air conditioning is on, Brooklynn." He states in the most patronizing tone. I wonder, briefly, if kicking him in the shins would actually accomplish something.
"Why are you here?"
"I came to see your smiling face," he replies while I frown at him. Seriously, this boy can probably make a nun swear. I was so hoping for a relaxing day, but now my insides are all twisted up with his presence and I can't seem to think straight.
"Well, after that warm reception. Come with me somewhere."
"What?"
"I want to take you somewhere," he says again, moving to hover in my personal space.
I'm curious, of course, not that I'll admit it out loud. "I can't leave. My mom and I have plans for the day." We don't but I'm about to make some. I don't think spending any more alone time with Grayson will help me any at the moment. I need my alone time. I need it.
"Mrs. Summers is here?" Before I can say anything else, he pivots, heading in the direction of the kitchen. I scramble to catch up.
"Mrs. Summers!" he exclaims, swallowing my mother in a hug. I halt in the hallway, the need to ram by head against the wall overpowering. Now he's friends with my mother? Apparently, since she beams at him as if he's her long lost son. They chat for a second, while I stand frozen in the doorway.
"So Brooklynn," Grayson begins turning his attention to me, "are you going to stand there all day or you going to go put some clothes on for our outing?" I glance at my mom, hoping for some kind of a support, reaching for some mother/daughter special power, but she just waves me away.
"Go get dressed, Brooklynn. We'll be fine here for a few minutes."
I'm pretty sure my jaw is officially dragging on the floor now. I can't believe my mother just sold me out to Grayson. Fuming, I turn to walk away. He follows me to the stairs, probably to make sure I don't bolt out the front door.
"Wear one of those little dresses. I like those a lot," Grayson whispers in my ear and I fight the urge to stomp my feet. I don't think I'm emotionally stable to hang out with any humans today. Especially this one.
I walk upstairs, pulling out my t-shirt and jeans. I'm so not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me in a dress. The only reason I'm going along with this is because I'm curious about where he wants to go and how he's so friendly with my mother. It's like the world tilted on its axis. My mom is not nice to boys. It took her forever to accept Chance and that was when we were both fifteen.
When I come downstairs, Grayson's eyes roam slowly over my body before meeting my own. He's smiling, the look of a satisfied male plainly on his face. I try not to blush under his study, but I'm sure I'm failing miserably. "Mom, Grayson is kidnapping me. See you never!"
"Have fun!" she calls and I scowl in her direction.
"At being kidnapped?"
"Well honey, I know where you're going." With that she pats my cheek and disappears back into the kitchen.
I glare at Grayson and follow him out the door.
"By the way, I love those jeans on you," he says. "Maybe even more than the dresses."
"Nice try. I'm not changing."
He chuckles and leads me over to his car, opening the passenger door before I can reach it. I mumble thanks, settling in the front seat while trying not to fidget. So he's back to his hot and cold attitude. Great for me. He pulls out of the driveway, heading in the direction of the freeway. With one hand he starts playing with the radio, finally settling on a country station.
"Are you going to tell me where we're going?" I ask after a few minutes of listening to Blake Shelton.
"Nope."
"Grayson."
"Brooklynn," he mimics my tone. I whack him on the shoulder, but he’s not giving in. "I'm not telling you and spoiling the surprise."
"Fine, but if you're taking me out to the desert to kill me, be prepared. I have some self-defense skills up my sleeve."
"Alright," he replies, his voice trembling with fake fear. "I'll keep that in mind."
We grow quite after that, until another song comes on and Grayson decides he's going to audition for The Voice with it. When he starts belting out "You Belong with Me" by Taylor Swift I can't keep a straight face. He throws me a look, but continues to sing as if his life depends on it. Don't get me wrong, the boy can sing, but the facial expressions are beyond hilarious.
"Ok stop, stop," I finally gasp, catching my breath. "I can't take it anymore." He gives me one of his satisfied smiles as he gets off the freeway. "Wait, why are we downtown?"
"Because."
"Because why?"
"If I tell you, it's not a surprise. So stop asking questions." I fold my hands across my chest, pouting in Grayson direction, which makes him laugh even more. I have to admit, I'm enjoying myself but I refuse to let Grayson know that. He’s throwing me off my game and I’m not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
He parks and is out of the car before I can ask anything else. Opening the door for me with a flourish, he gestures for me to get out and I mumble a thank you. No doubt about it, Grayson sure loves his flair. He motions for me to follow and that's when I notice how crowded the streets are.
We weave through the people in silence, my eyes firmly on Grayson's back so I don't lose him. When he stops suddenly I almost smack right into him. Twisting around, he catches me by my elbow and I freeze at the contact. Am I ever going to be able to not react at his touch?
"Close your eyes."
"What?"
"Close your eyes."
"Grayson, you've already surprised me. Let me see." I try to move around him, but there are people around us and he's blocking my view.
"Don't you trust me?" He asks the question lightly, but there is something in the undertone of his voice. I study him through my lashes, watching his face as he gazes down at me. The answer is important to him and for some reason it's important to me too. Without replying, I shut my eyes. His arms travel down to my hands, wrapping my fingers in his. He leads me a few steps before I feel him move behind me.
"Okay, open up." I do so slowly, not sure what I'm expecting to see. Grayson is right behind me, I can feel his heat wrapped around me like a blanket. When my gaze finally focuses on what's in front of me I gasp.
"Oh my goodness."
❧ ❧ ❧
It's a real live fashion show.
I can't take my eyes off what's happening in front of me. There are models everywhere. Squeaking a bit, I turn to Grayson throwing my arms around him. The move is unconscious but the moment our bodies touch my senses explode. His arms, wrapped securely around me, feel as if they belong there.
"Thank you," I say, my voice is but a whisper as I try to get a hold of my breathing. "Thank you for bringing me here."
"You're welcome. Want to go explore?" A nod is all I can manage in response. He grins down at my flustered face, then motions for me to go ahead. I turn my attention back to the scene in front of me and smile. This is my world.
There is a stage set up in the middle of the courtyard, not quite as long as a typical runway but close enough. Chairs have been placed around the stage, while flowers are moved to create a backdrop around the set up. The crowd grows larger by the minute as I try to take it all in.
We pass a table set up with refreshments and Grayson grabs one of the brochures, handing it over. It's a festival of fashions. I love Phoenix and all the little things the city does for the community, but I have never heard of this one before. I turn to him with question on my lips but he beats me to it.
"It's a new thing this year. Their First Fridays is such a big deal around here that the local fashion artists wanted to jump on that bandwagon. So here we are." He spreads his arms out as if he's to thank for all of the organized chaos going on around us. Between our project, volunteering and work, I’ve completely forgotten to pay attention to the announcements regarding any shows in the area. Apparently, Grayson didn’t.
I laugh because I'm helpless to do anything else. I've never been this happy before. I just want to dive into the closest pile of clothes and bask in the feeling of creativity. I hear yelling and grunting and chatter coming from all directions.
As we move through the crowd I watch the tents at the back of the stage like a hawk. Grayson must've noticed because the next thing I know, he reaches for my arm and pulls me along.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting you backstage."
"Grayson no," I halt him. The feeling of terror runs through me and I fight to keep my breathing normal. He studies me in that intense way of his and I try not to fidget under the scrutiny.
"Brooklynn, this is a great opportunity. What are you afraid of?" I hate it how he knows exactly what the problem is, as if he can read my mind.
"I'm not afraid," I try but he stops me with a look. I really need to stop trying because I can't lie to him anymore.
"You know I don’t do well in letting people see this side of me."
"I know that you need to start. When I first told you my idea for a show you freaked out and I know it was for that precise reason. Going in there to talk to these designers who have made it is exactly what you need to do. Come on kid, don't make me put you over my shoulder and carry you in there like a caveman." The image does the trick and I smile.
"Fine," I state, my body instantly coming to a high alert, as if I'm preparing for battle. I try to move but it’s as if my feet have melted into the ground.
"Hey," Grayson comes around to stand in front of me. He's so much taller than me, I have to tilt my head back to look into his eyes. His gaze is soft, understanding, and for some reason I want to freeze this moment in my memory. His hand reaches for my own.
"We're in this together, Brooklynn. It's about time you realize that." I don't answer, just let him guide me to the tent, while my mind tries to comprehend his words. I feel like there is more to what he's saying than the words he spoke. But as I walk with him to the tents, his hand wrapped securely around mine, I can't help but picture us years from now, walking hand in hand at my own show.
"Can I help you?" The voice of one of the ladies in front of the entrance brings me out of my haze.
"Yes," Grayson replies, putting on one of his charming smiles. There is no way anyone can deny him when he gets like this and I almost chuckle at the blush that creeps over the older woman's cheeks. "I'm Grayson. This here is Brooklynn and she is planning on studying fashion design in college. We're putting on our own show to boost our portfolios. We were wondering if we can just take a look in the back. We won't be in the way. Scouts honor." The lady is all pink cheeks and stuttering comments, but she lets us in.