Authors: Magan Vernon
"Well there is this one guy..." She peered out the window.
"Well, tell me about him!" I hit her with a tank top to draw her attention back to me.
"He's not my boyfriend though!" she squealed defensively. "I mean he's probably the hottest guy in the parish, but he's definitely not my boyfriend."
"Well, what's he like?" I pushed. "Will he be there tonight?"
She twiddled her thumbs in her lap. "I guess. He usually doesn't miss a party."
"So we know he's a partier. That could be a good thing." I held up a jean skirt, a possibility, and set it next to the heels.
"Well he's not just a partier. He’s your age, and he already has a job working for the highway department. So he looks really good without his shirt on from working outside all day. Sometimes I make Grandma take the long way home from school just so I can see him."
I smiled as I saw a genuine look of happiness on Brittany's face. She had a crush, but not a crush on any guy I would ever go for. A road crew guy? Ew. But none the less, I was going to try and make her look hot for him at this party tonight.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" she asked after she went on for what seemed like forever about the road crew guy, Blaine, who I could have probably told you his whole life story by then.
"It’s kind of on-again, off-again." I bit my lip and sat down on the bed next to Brittany.
"So is he your boyfriend or is he not?" Brittany looked at me for an answer.
That was a hard one to answer. The last time I saw Beau was at school, and we had gotten in a fight because he said he was just helping a Tri-Lambda get something that was caught on her skirt. Of course if that was the case I don't think he would have needed his entire hand up her skirt. But that was Beau. Every time I caught him with another girl it was some kind of an excuse, and then the girl would just run off without saying a word, with her cheeks red as a tomato.
Of course I didn't believe his lies, but I didn't know what else I was supposed to do. He was popular. Something I had always wanted to be. He was an officer in the Alpha Mu fraternity, and probably one of the most well-known guys on campus, and not just for his rugby skills. I knew exactly why I started dating him: instant popularity. Why I stayed with him for so long was a mystery even to me.
I guess I just let the popularity of being the girlfriend of one of the hottest guys on campus get to my head, and I tried my best to ignore his infidelities no matter how much it hurt. But that was over. His project with me was done. He would soon find another girl to be his arm candy. As he put it, "
We had fun Libby. But it's better to go off on a good note
." That was the last thing he said to me, as I was almost in tears when I called him to let him know I was leaving for Louisiana.
No sense of sympathy, not even empathy, it was like he was just bored with the conversation. Soon after, he broke up with me, and he told me he had to go because he was really busy. I knew that it was probably because he had a girl with him, or at least someone. He was the last person I expected to spend the night alone.
"Well, I guess for now I am single and free." I beamed. "Maybe your Blaine boy has a friend for me." I winked, almost convincing myself that maybe I would meet someone too, but I thought that would never happen. Even though I had only had one boyfriend in my life, from what I saw of the locals I wasn't going to find the type of guy I normally went for. I saw these guys walking down the block, wearing trucker caps, while walking their hunting dogs. I wasn't even sure I was ready to put myself out there, just to get let down again.
Chapter 5
"What are you so dressed up for?"
Aunt Dee looked up at me with her glasses brimming on her nose. I didn't think I was too dressed up, at least not for me, just a white lace tank top, jean skirt, and a pair of black kitten heels.
"Well, I have to make a good impression on the locals, don't I?" I strutted down the little carpet runner to the couch where Aunt Dee was. I had tried to get Brittany to wear something a little nicer or even put on some makeup, but she said she was fine in a lime green cut off shirt and gym shorts. I was going to burn those gym shorts by the end of the summer.
"I told her she was too dressed up to just go hang out at Sarah's, but you know them blondes, Aunt Dee." They shared a laugh and I glared at the two of them.
"And you are going to walk to Sarah's trailer in those heels?" Aunt Dee gawked down at my feet…and I was pretty sure she had just said trailer…gulp.
"Grandma!" Brittany bellowed. "I walk to Sarah's all the time, and it ain't that far!"
"Well you've never walked in heels." Aunt Dee got up from the couch and walked over to the kitchen. "In fact." She reached into her purse. "I don't think I've ever seen you in anything close to heels." Aunt Dee threw me a set of keys.
"Here, I ain't letting you walk all the way to Sarah's like that. You never know what kind of hooligans are out." Aunt Dee smiled at me as I looked down at the keys.
"Gee, thanks Aunt Dee…"
Brittany beamed and jumped up, taking me by the arm as she led me out the door. "Bye Grandma, we won't be home too late. Just watching movies and stuff," she called as we headed out the door. Somehow I think I knew then that this was definitely not going to be like any other party that I had ever been to.
∞
When we arrived it became clear that this was definitely not a Chicago party, or even a college party for that matter. I pulled the car up to a rusted trailer with some terrible music that I didn't recognize, blasting from inside. I turned off the ignition and looked over at Brittany.
"Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, Aunt Dee does trust us,” I said.
I couldn't believe I was being the sensible one. Usually I was the one begging the girls in my house to go out, the girl that was always looking for a good time, but for some reason I was getting knots in my stomach.
It wasn't like I didn't go to a lot of parties in college or anything, but this one just felt different to me. At the time, I thought it was just the atmosphere. I had never set foot in a trailer or a swamp until that night, and I couldn't concentrate on anything else but the bowed out double-wide and how much my heels were sinking in the ground.
"Yeah, yeah I do it all the time." Brittany unbuckled her seat belt and jumped out of the car.
We walked past the gawkers on the rickety front porch and inside to the smoky house. Brittany was definitely right; this was a t-shirt and jeans party. Or more like cut-off shirts and shorts party, and I definitely stuck out like a sore thumb.
"Hey you made it!" A very hefty blonde ran over to Brittany and gave her a big squeeze.
"And you must be Libby. I'm Sarah!" The girl's accent could have rivaled Patsy Cline, but I was too busy being enveloped in her big arms to pay too much attention.
"Why you are just as pretty as Dee said you would be!"
I could feel the heat rising in my face. It wasn't like I didn't get a lot of attention at school, but sometimes it could be a little too much.
Sarah looked behind her and then back at Brittany and she leaned in to the two of us. "Blaine is here," she whispered, giggling after she said it.
I put my hands on Brittany's shoulder. "Aw, you hear that? You should go talk to him!"
"No. I ain't going to go talk to him. He don't even know who I am," Brittany mumbled, crossing her arms across her huge chest.
"Of course he knows who you are, there are only five-thousand people in this town!" I exclaimed. "Now, where is he?" I let my eyes scan the room. It was packed with boys chewing tobacco and girls wearing cowboy hats. Brittany pointed toward the couch.
"That one, sitting in the middle."
That's when I caught my first glimpse of Blaine Crabtree. He was sandwiched in between two guys that were laughing at who knows what. At first I didn't notice anything but a big mop of bleached blonde hair, then he looked up from his pack of cloves and I was locked into the bluest eyes that I had ever seen. His expression didn't change, he didn't smile and didn't blink. It seemed like I was lost in his eyes, like he was using them to do the most calculated math problem, and that math problem was me.
I quickly gathered myself as best as I could and looked down, trying to hide my smile by biting down on my lower lip. I had hoped that no one was watching, but obviously someone else noticed our stare-down.
"What was that all about?" Sarah teased. "You better watch your man." Sarah poked Brittany in the ribs. Brittany was not amused, and looked just about as embarrassed as I was, not taking her eyes off of the ground.
I tilted my head up. "Well I guess we will just have to make him notice Brittany then!" They looked puzzled as I headed over to the stereo with the girls closely following behind me, whispering back and forth.
I crouched down and rummaged through the pile of CDs next to the stereo system. Tool? Really? Nine Inch Nails? It was no wonder everyone was just standing around. Finally I found something that would work with my plan, a disc of Def Leppard's greatest hits. I opened the CD case and put the disc into the stereo.
Everyone around me stopped what they were doing and grumbled, looking at me. I heard snippets of conversation in hushed tones, what the hell is she doing? Then, "Pour Some Sugar on Me" started playing and I turned toward Brittany.
"Come on!" I reached my arms out to her, slowly swaying my hips as I stood up.
"Come on what?" She firmly crossed her arms across her chest.
I tugged on her arms and kept swaying, sliding my body up and down. She wouldn't budge, her arms were glued around her shirt and kept her eyes locked on the ground.
"If you want Blaine to notice you, dance with me."
"I don't dance." She looked around and her cheeks flushed.
"You don't need to know how to dance. It's all basically just dry humping anyways!" I slid my body down to a crouching position in front of her and then slowly popped back up, sticking my butt out.
"I choreographed Kappa Beta's spring Dance Off, Pants Off. I can show you some moves." I tried to pull on her arms again, swaying my body around her, and tried to lift her arms over her head. I leaned my back against her and slid down, as if she were a pole, and then slowly popped back up swinging my hair. She looked away from me and darted toward the other end of the room with Sarah following close behind.
"Britt! Wait!" I yelled and turned on my heels to go toward her, but a tight grip pulled me back.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" A deep country accent growled behind me. I turned toward the vice grip owner and met those blue eyes again.
"What the hell do you think YOU are doing?" I tried to pull my arm away, but this guy had a stronger grip than I thought.
"Come on outside and talk to me," he whispered motioning his head toward the door.
"I will do no such thing!" I tried to pull my arm away, but he had a grip that could only come from hours of manual labor and it was no use trying to break it. He pulled me toward the door with him, and we had caused quite the scene. We exited to the front porch where people stood gawking at us.
"Who do you think you are, my father?" I hissed turning toward him, my hair flying about.
"No, but I’m not going to let some guy take advantage of you in there." He let go of my arm and reached in his pocket, pulling out a pack of cloves. He leaned against the porch railing like he was just making himself at home.
I crossed my arms and smirked. "I think I can handle myself. I took a self-defense class during Greek Week."
He placed a clove between his lips, letting out a muffled laugh while he lit it. "Yeah, at the college you failed out of."
"Hey now, you probably don't even go to college, so you have no room to judge!" I pouted.
He exhaled the smoke through his nose and I could hear the crackle of the clove as he removed it from his lips. "Well, no, I didn't go to college. But neither did your Aunt Dee and she's a good lady. I'm not going to let her hear about her niece getting taken advantage of at one of Sarah's parties. She's too good for that."
He took another drag of his clove and his gaze met mine again. I wanted to say something, but his gorgeous blue eyes had me stammering for words. I tried to focus on something else, so that I could regain my words.
I looked down to his shirt, which was nothing special, a plain black shirt. But as I watched, his arm muscles would flinch when he would move his hands from his clove, to the porch, and in and out of the pockets of his faded cargo shorts. I realized how much I was actually focusing on the curves of his body and tried everything I could not to wonder what it was like to be that clove between his lips.
I wasn't too sure what to say to him and I figured that he must have thought I was staring, which in all honesty I was. All I could come up with was that we hadn't officially met, so I changed the subject real quick.
"I'm Libby by the way, but I guess you already knew that." I shifted from one leg to the other.
"Yeah." He exhaled. "When you live in a small town you kind of hear all the news, and my mom is a hairdresser, so I do hear all of the gossip."
"If your mom was a better hairdresser she wouldn't let you bleach your hair."
His hair was so spikey and tousled that it almost looked curly or windblown. I wondered what it would be like to run my fingers through it. If it would feel like straw from baking in the summer sun all day or if it would just slide like silk through my fingers.
"And that really didn't give me any information about you. If you're going to man handle me, I should at least know your name. And if you plan on doing it again you should really get me a drink first."
He laughed, exhaling a mouthful of smoke. His full lips almost made an O shape as he laughed, bringing out the dimples that curved around his lip line. "Alright, you got me there. I'm Blaine. Blaine who's lived here all his life. Blaine the grunt for the parish highway department."