Tricked

I'm posting Monday's post early, because I'm trying to line some things up in the posting schedule.  I've been sick all week and weekend, so I've had way too much time on my hands to write and tinker with the post line up!  I'll still have a post for you guys tomorrow, Wednesday and Friday, so enjoy the bonus!  Tomorrow's post will be one from Brody's perspective, and Wednesday and Friday will be the normal storyline.  Hope everyone is having an excellent and safe Labor Day weekend!
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Lauren held me as I cried, stroking my hair.  She sat there with me until I was mostly done crying, then she stood up and hauled me to my feet.  "Come on," she said, pulling me over to the couch.  "Sit."  She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of water.  She handed it to me.  I unscrewed the top and drank gratefully.  She sat down next to me and regarded my tear and makeup-stained face.  She took my hand.  "Tell me what happened," she said gently.

So I did.  When I was finished, she hugged me.  "Asshole," she muttered into my hair.  I almost smiled.  I could count on Lauren to be 100% loyal to me, always.

"I don't even know why I'm so upset," I said.  "We weren't even officially a couple."

"You guys were totally a couple, don't be stupid.  It was obvious.  Just because you didn't sign a contract and slap a label on it doesn't change the fact that you are both completely crazy about each other and uninterested in dating other people."  I sniffled, and she handed me a tissue.  "Are you going to try to talk to him again before he leaves?" she asked, after I had blown my nose.  I shook my head.

"No, I don't think I can stand to see him.  Plus, I said some kind of awful things and he's probably pissed."

She rolled her eyes.  "I don't think he has the capacity to be pissed at you for any length of time, Liv," she said.

I flopped backwards against the back of her couch and curled my legs up against my chest.  "I don't care.  I don't want to see him.  I can't.  I feel so stupid."

Lauren let me stay for another hour.  We watched some TV, and then she gently informed me that it was after 11.  "You can spend the night or just stay longer if you want," she said, "but I need to get some sleep."  I thanked her for the offer and for letting me stay as long as I had and went home.

I had hoped I'd feel better in the morning but I didn't.  I struggled through the work day, avoiding my coworkers.  I was glad I only had one client scheduled.  I left at 4:30 and went home.  As soon as I got there, I wished I wasn't there.  I decided to go to the gym.

I stayed at the gym for almost 2 hours, trying to sweat out my feelings.  I felt a little better when I left.  I grabbed a salad from the cafe next door and walked home.  I ate and showered, and was in bed by 9.  I slept restlessly, but I slept.

At lunchtime on Thursday, I got a text from Lauren asking me if I was going to happy hour tonight.  "No way," I texted back.  "I don't want to see him, or hear him tell everyone that he's leaving."  Instead, I went back to the gym and then stared mindlessly at the TV until I was ready for bed.

Brody had called me twice--once on Wednesday and once on Thursday--but I didn't answer or call back.  Thursday night, Kinsley called me.  I knew she was calling because she had just left happy hour and found out what was going on, so I didn't answer her call either.

On Friday, Lauren texted me.  "I'm coming over tomorrow," she said.  I responded, asking if I had a choice.  "Nope! I'll bring lunch and wine."  Brody didn't call me Friday.

On Saturday at 12:30 on the dot, my doorbell rang.  It was Lauren, with lunch and wine as promised.  We ate and she kept up a steady stream of chatter, filling my wine glass when it would get close to empty.  A little later, she said, "You should put on those jeans that you bought last weekend."

"Why?" I asked irritably.

She sighed.  "Because I want to see them again, that's why.  Oooh!  They'll look really cute with that one pink top you have, let's go, I want to see them together."  Once I had the outfit on, she nodded approval.  "That is perfect.  I love it."  She paused, then said, "Hey!  Will you teach me some new eye makeup stuff?"

"I guess," I agreed.

"I'll show you how I did that French braid with the front of my hair too."  I was hopeless with accessories and hair, and less than proficient with putting together outfits, but makeup had always been my thing.  It's easier to learn, and I was always trying new products and looks.  Lauren was always trying to get me to teach her new tricks, but she could never quite replicate them. 

I got out my makeup and told her to close her eyes.  "No," she said, shaking her head.  "I want you to put it on yourself step by step, so I can copy it.  Maybe I'll learn better that way."  I rolled my eyes but did as she asked, showing her a new look I'd been playing with with copper, gold, and brown shadows.  When we were done, she taught me how to do a French braid along my hairline, then pulled the rest of my hair back into a bun.  She smiled.  "Your hair looks great like that," she said.  "It keeps your short, wispy pieces from escaping and standing straight up off your head."  Right.  Then her phone pinged, and she looked down at it.  "I have to go," she said, standing up.

We walked downstairs and at the door she hugged me.  She left, and I was going upstairs to change back into my sweats when the doorbell rang.  I turned around and went to answer it.

"What'd you forget?" I asked, pulling the door open.  I stopped short when I saw Brody standing there.  My heart jumped at the sight of his chiseled features.

"Liv," he said.  "Please don't shut the door.  Can I come in?"  Wordlessly, I stepped back so he could enter.

I sat on the couch and he sat next to me, leaning sideways against the arm to look at me.  "Lauren set me up, huh?" I asked.  When he nodded, I realized that she had also tricked me into getting dressed, doing my hair, and putting on makeup.  Sneaky bitch.  At least she didn't set me up and let me walk into it looking like a homeless person.

"Don't be mad at her, I asked her to help me," he said quietly.  We both looked at each for a minute.  I took a deep breath and started to talk.

"Look--" I said, at the same Brody said, "Liv--".  We both stopped, then he motioned for me to go first.  Still giving me what I want.

"Look," I started again.  "I owe you an apology.  I'm sorry for the way I acted on Tuesday.  I was way out of line.  I was completely blindsided, which wasn't your fault.  I mean, it was, sort of, but it's not like there was a better way for you to do it.  I'm glad you respected me enough to tell me in person, not over the phone, because that probably would have been easier for you."  I sucked in a shaky breath, and let a nervous giggle escape.  "So, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean what I said.  At least, I didn't mean that I'd be lying if I said 'congratulations.'  I really am happy for you to get this opportunity.  I know you've worked your ass off to get to where you are, and you totally deserve it.  So...congratulations."  At this point, tears were threatening, so I stopped.  I looked down at my hands in my lap.

"Thank you, Liv," Brody said.  "That means a lot to me, and I know that it wasn't easy for you to say."  I nodded in agreement, eyes still fixed on my lap.  The longer I looked at him, the more I ached for him, and the more it would hurt when he walked out my front door.  "I came here because I couldn't stomach leaving without seeing you one more time," he went on.  "It's completely selfish, but I couldn't leave things the way they ended on Tuesday."  He gently tilted my chin up, and my my eyes threatened to overflow when they locked on his pale green ones.  "I hate that I had to spring it on you.  I'm truly sorry that there wasn't a better way.  I need you to know that I care about you a lot, and I will miss you every second I'm in Miami."  He stopped then, and swallowed hard.

I couldn't stop the tears from running down my face then.   I cursed Lauren and her stupid eye makeup, because I was sure my tears were black.  Brody gathered me to his chest and stroked my hair, his cheek resting against the top of my head.  I breathed in his smell: cologne, soap, and mountains.  Would he still smell like mountains when he came back from Miami?  If he came back from Miami, I corrected myself.  That thought started a fresh round of tears, and Brody hugged me tighter.

Finally, the tears slowed.  I pulled away, and quickly swiped at my face to try to remove the worst of the blackness.  The alarm on Brody's phone beeped, and he looked at me sadly. 

"I have to go, Liv," he said, cupping my face in his hand.  I shut my eyes and nodded against his hand.  I got up and walked towards the door.  As he stepped out onto my front steps, he turned back and leaned against the railing.  "Is it okay if I call you?" he asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. 

"I understand," he replied.  "Well, then call me if you want to, okay?"  I nodded.  "Goodbye, Liv."  Without waiting for my reply, he walked down my steps and got into his big black SUV.  I wondered briefly what he was going to do with it.  Then I shut the door, curled up on the couch, and fell into an exhausted, restless nap.  

(Then) Savannah

Eyes on Cornell Part 3

December

I walked into the house after school and dropped my bag in the middle of the floor.  It really never got old.  I went into the kitchen for a snack and saw Mother and Daddy sitting stiffly at the kitchen table.  "Hi," I said, ignoring the weird looks they were giving me.  I had no idea why they were sitting there.  We never sit at the kitchen table.  Only poor people sit at a kitchen table.

"Savannah," Mother said, in a strained voice.  It was the voice she used when she wanted to yell but wouldn't, because people who Maintain Appearances don't yell.

"What?" I asked, not turning from the fridge, where I was digging for an apple.

"Please come sit down," Daddy said stiffly.  Now I was a little nervous.  I abandoned my quest for the perfect apple and walked over to the table.  I sat and stared from Mother to Daddy.

"What?" I asked again.  Silently, my mom pushed an opened envelope and letter my way.  "What is it?" I asked.  Then I saw the Cornell letterhead.  "You opened my mail?"

"It's a good thing we did," Daddy said firmly.  I pulled the letter to me, butterflies dancing in my stomach.  The butterflies quickly turned to large lead weights that settled at the bottom as I read.  "...regret to inform you that due to the plagiarism in your personal statement, your application will not be considered, and applications made in subsequent years will be unable to be considered as well.  This decision is not able to be appealed."

My mouth hung open as I read the sentences over and over.  There was more, but it didn't matter.  I looked up at Mother and Daddy.  "This is a mistake!" I exclaimed, my voice rising in volume and pitch.  It earned me a disapproving look from Mother, but I continued, getting closer and closer to squeaks.  "I didn't plagiarize!  I wrote my statement.  I worked so hard.  I worked on it for weeks!  Julia helped me edit it.  Julia..." I trailed off as a thought occurred to me.  I remembered what Julia had said about my personal statement.


***

I opened the email from her, my hand shaking with nerves.  Did she hate it?  Was it awful?  I read carefully.  "Savannah, your statement is good!  I made a few small changes.  I also added a paragraph at the end that nicely sums everything up and will make the readers think a little.  If you hate it, feel free to take it out, but I think that it helps bring it from a really good statement to an amazing one.  Let me know if you have questions about the changes!"

I opened the document next, looking at the changes she'd made.  She was right about the last paragraph.  It really pulled everything together, and it was good.  It didn't sound exactly like my writing, but I liked it, so I decided to keep it.

***

"Shit!" I shrieked.

"Savannah Lynn," Mother admonished, but I was already racing out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my room.  I pushed the button to start my computer.   With shaking hands, I opened the personal statement document.  I copied the last paragraph and pasted it into Yahoo search.  When I hit Enter, my screen was immediately filled with exact matches.  Panic gripped me.  Why hadn't I searched it?  Why had I trusted her?  "Trust no one" is pretty much unwritten rule number one of Maintaining Appearances.

The panic increased as I realized I had used the same essay with some small changes for Penn State and Purdue.  I began to cry, forgetting that my parents were waiting for me downstairs, probably completely irritated at my sudden outburst and flight from the room.  I got up and turned the lock on the doorknob, then threw myself on my bed.  I was sobbing uncontrollably now.

30 minutes later, the panic had subsided to numbness, and I lay on my bed, curled in a ball.  I was no longer crying, just staring at the wall.  A knock sounded at my door. 

"Savannah?  Can I come in?" Daddy's voice was gentle.  I didn't respond.  "Savannah," he continued, undeterred.  "We can fix this.  If you really want to go to Cornell, I can call--"

"NO!!  I don't want you to fix this!" I wailed. 

"I just wish you would have told us, sweetheart."  Ha, so they could talk me out of it before I bothered applying, I'm sure.  I was silent.  "Okay, well, we can talk more later.  Maria says dinner will be ready in 15 minutes."

"I'm not hungry," I said.

I didn't go down to dinner.  I didn't go down for breakfast the next morning.  I was thankful it was Saturday, because I wouldn't have to go to school.  I laid in bed, wallowing, until a gentle knock sounded at my door around 11:30.  I wasn't going to answer, but then a soft voice followed.

"Savannah?  It's Maria.  I brought you a sandwich.  You must eat, love." I dragged myself out of bed and cracked the door open.  Our cook and housekeeper Maria stood there, promised sandwich in hand.  "Let me in, love," she prodded gently.  I pulled the door open and she stepped in.  She closed it behind her and handed me the plate with the sandwich.  She sat on my bed as I ate.  When I finished, she took the plate and set it on my desk.   Then she pulled me into a hug.  The tears came again, and I sobbed into her shoulder as she stroked my hair and whispered soothing words to me.

When I stopped, she held me at arm's length.  "Tell me what happened," she directed.  I told her the whole story.  My plans to go far, far away for school.  Struggling with the statement, asking Julia for help.  Using the same, plagiarized statement at my top 3 schools.

"Did you apply anywhere else?" she asked kindly when I had finished.  I nodded miserably. 

"Cal Poly and Denver," I hiccuped.

With a decisive nod, she said, "Well, then I guess you are going to Denver, yes?"

With a wry, watery smile, I replied, "I guess I'm going to Denver."
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This wraps up this part of Savannah's story.  I'm sure there will be more on her later, but for now I'm going to move to other characters.  Thanks for reading!

Say Something

"Liv, my dad wants me to be the new Director of Operations.  With it comes a share transfer which would make me majority shareholder.  The catch is that I'd have to stay in Miami." 

I stared at him.  In all my consideration of what the "other shoe" might be, the thought of him moving to Miami permanently had never crossed my mind.  But there it was, kicking me in the face.

"S-stay?" I stuttered.  "In Miami?"  I was struggling to form a coherent thought.  "And you leave Saturday?  Forever?"

"No," he said quickly, reaching for my hand.  I let him take it, but I didn't squeeze back.  He stroked my knuckles as he went on.  "It's such a huge move and a huge change.  There are a lot of reasons not to do it, like you."  At this, he tipped my chin up to raise my eyes from the spot on the floor they'd been fixed on.  His eyes were tired and serious, but they were also sad.  I swallowed hard.  "My dad wasn't prepared for any answer but 'yes', but I negotiated him into a 60 day trial period.  That way I can be there to oversee the training of the new manager, and get my feet wet in the director of operations role to see if it's something I'm willing to uproot my life for, again."

He had moved his hand from my chin, but I kept my eyes on his for a second longer, willing the emotion off my face.  When I couldn't do it anymore, I turned my eyes back down to the floor.  My head was spinning, and I felt a little bit sick.  I probably jinxed it all the other night, I thought bitterly.  I am so stupid. 

"Olivia, please say something," Brody pleaded.

I pulled my hand out of his and locked my hands together in my lap.  Then I turned steely eyes towards him.  "Say something?" I spat, and he recoiled as if I'd slapped him.  "What am I supposed to say?  This sucks for me, but it's an amazing opportunity for you.  So if I say something honest, I'm an asshole, and if I say 'congratulations', I'm a liar.  I don't feel like being either of those those things tonight."  He looked stung. 

"Liv," he said softly, desperately.  "You're right, it is an amazing opportunity for me.  Not many people get the chance to be majority shareholder and director of operations for a multimillion dollar company before their 30th birthday.  But you have to know that the first thing I said to him was 'no'.  He wasn't hearing it.  He told me my choice was to take the promotion or find a new job.  I was ready to call his bluff and tell him I'd find a new job, but he has me locked into an airtight non-compete and it would be hard, if not impossible.  It took me five hours to wear him down to the 60 day trial period.  I even made him call the company attorney and put it in writing so he couldn't screw me over later." He stopped and took a deep breath.  "If it wasn't for you, I'd have taken the promotion and not looked back."

I didn't speak.  I didn't trust myself.  I couldn't understand why I felt like my world was falling apart.  We hadn't even had the exclusivity talk, so this didn't even qualify as a breakup.  I closed my eyes and took three deep breaths.  I looked up at him.  "Okay," I said with a nod, sounding much calmer than I felt.  "Well, I do appreciate that you went head to head with your dad for me.  I probably don't sound sincere, but it really does mean a lot.  Um, I have a stupid question though."  He nodded to me to go on.  "What..." my voice caught, and I paused and tried again.  "What now?  Us, I mean? 60 days is kind of a long time, longer than we've even really been dating actually, which seems kind of crazy.  And if it has the potential to be forever, well--" I realized I was rambling and stopped abruptly.

Now it was his turn to look away, and he studied his shoe.  "Since I don't know for certain if I'll be coming back to stay or to pack in 60 days," he said, his voice wavering slightly, "I don't think it's fair for me to ask you to wait for me to make that decision."  He stopped, still not meeting my eyes.

"What does that even mean?" I asked, not sure I wanted him to clarify.

He glanced back at me and I saw the pain in his eyes.  I knew exactly what it meant then.  "Oh," I said abruptly.

Neither of us spoke for a while, and then he said, "Look, Liv...I just want...If you meet someone while I'm off exploring my career options, I don't want to be holding you back from 2000 miles away."

"And what if I don't want to meet someone?" I asked, quietly.  He shook his head.  I understood now that I didn't have a choice in the matter.  "I think I should go," I said, standing up.  He stood and reached for me.  I let him pull me against his chest.  I took a deep breath, willing the tears away.  I wasn't going to let him see me cry over him.  He stroked my hair and ran his hand down my back.  He kissed the top of my head and I pulled away.  I turned and walked towards the door.  I heard him trailing behind me.

I stopped at the door and turned, my hand on the knob.  I looked up at him, feeling more numb now than anything.  "Good luck," I said simply, before turning the knob and stepping out the door.  I walked to my car robotically and got in.  I started it and backed out of the driveway.   I focused on the road, realizing that I wasn't at home when I stopped.  I was at Lauren's.  I looked at the clock.  9:26.  I hoped it wasn't too late, I knew she had to work early.  I grabbed my phone and walked to her building, slipping in the secure door as someone else came out.  I walked stiffly up to her apartment and knocked while sending a text telling her it was me.  30 seconds later, she pulled the door open.

"Liv!  What are you doing here?"  Seeing my face, she said, "Oh my god, what happened?"  The tears that I had worked so hard to hold back flowed, and she grabbed my hand and pulled me inside.  Once we had the door shut she wrapped her arms around me and we sank to the floor, leaning back against the door as I cried against her. 

 

And there it is.

The rest of weekend was low key.  Lauren came over Saturday afternoon and we went shopping and grabbed dinner.  I spent Sunday catching up on laundry and cleaning my house from top to bottom.

Pulling up my calendar on Monday was a much more pleasant experience than doing it the week before.  My schedule was manageable this week, and I was looking forward to feeling normal again.  Monday evening, my phone rang as I was walking home from the gym.  I pulled it out of my bag, happy to see it was Brody.  We had texted back and forth over the weekend but I was happy to have an actual conversation.  "Hey," I said, answering with a smile.

"Hey yourself," he responded warmly.  "I'm glad I caught you.  I miss you.  How was your day?"

"Normal, actually.   I left work at 5 like a normal person, and I'm on my way home from the gym."

"So, pretty much the best Monday you've had in over a month," he said, laughing.

"Pretty much!" I agreed.  How are things down there?"

"A clusterfuck," he said, sounding irritated.  "But my plane should be landing in Denver about this time tomorrow."

"Sooner than you thought," I responded excitedly.

"Yeah," he said shortly.  I expected him to say more, but he didn't.

"Can I pick you up?" I asked eventually.

"I'd love that," he responded, and the warmth was back in his voice.  He promised to text me the flight info after we hung up.  We chatted for a few more minutes, and there was no more hint of distance that had flashed between us when when he told me when he was coming back.

Finally he said, "Sorry Liv, but I have to go.  I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

I said goodbye and let myself into my house.  I had been standing outside my door for at least a minute, too focused on our conversation to dig out my keys.


Now that I wasn't as busy, Tuesday seemed to go slowly.  I had lunch with Charlotte, and it felt like it had been forever since we had talked.  With how busy things had been, I was pretty sure that even though I spent more waking hours at work than anywhere else, I talked to my coworkers less than anyone else.  It was nice to catch up with her and not have to shove a sandwich in my face at my desk between clients.

After work, I went home and took a quick shower.  I put on a cute sundress and dried my hair.  I tried not to feel ridiculous for dressing up to pick someone up from the airport, but I was excited to see him.  I parked in the cell phone waiting lot and waited.  When he called to say they had gotten off the plane, I started the car and drove over to arrivals.  I spotted him right away and pulled up.  He threw his carry-on bag in the backseat and collapsed into the passenger seat.  He looked absolutely exhausted, but managed a tired smile and a kiss on my cheek as I pulled away from the airport.

"Hey you," he said.  "Thanks for coming to get me."

"My motives were purely selfish," I admitted.  "I get to see you way sooner this way.  Have you eaten?"  He shook his head.   We stopped on our way through the city to grab burgers.  I looked at him carefully.  He had dark circles under his eyes and hadn't shaved in at least 3 days.  

It was after 8 by the time we finally pulled up in front of his house.  "Come inside for a little bit?" he asked.  I parked the car and followed him in.  He dropped his bag next to the front door and collapsed onto the couch.  He tugged me down next to him and pulled me against him.  When he pushed away and turned towards me, I got nervous.  He looked so serious.

"Liv...I have to go back to Miami," he said.  "On Saturday."

"What?  For how long?  What's going on down there?"

"One of my dad's executive managers was caught sending inappropriate messages and photos to someone with his company email.  They had to fire him.  I went down to help my dad pick a replacement, and now he wants me down there to train him."

"But...why do you have to do it?" I asked, struggling to keep the petulant edge out of my voice.

"My dad has been out of the day to day operations for so long.  And I've built such a successful branch out here, he thinks I'm the best one to do it.  Since he signs my paychecks, I don't have much of a choice," he explained patiently.

"How long?" I asked again, noting that he had successfully avoided answering the first time I asked.

He sighed and pushed both hands into his hair, resting his elbows on his knees for a second before looking back up at me. "Liv, my dad wants me to be the new Director of Operations.  With it comes a share transfer which would make me majority shareholder.  The catch is that I'd have to stay in Miami." 

(Now) Brody: Hot Lava Tag

Here is the promised bonus post.  This is just a random date, it doesn't continue the storyline or add much to the story besides more Brody and Liv.  It's written from Brody's perspective, per the request of some lovely commenters!  Hope you enjoy :)
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I sat in my office with the door shut, my chair swiveled so I faced the windows.  I rocked back and forth in it, looking absently out at downtown Denver, thinking about Liv.  I wasn't getting anything done today.  I'd never had a woman so completely consume my mind the way Liv does.  I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text: "Hey beautiful.  Dinner tonight?"  I didn't want to wait until tomorrow to see her.

She texted back right away: "Yes please!  What time?"

I surveyed the piles of folders of papers on my desk, and cast my eyes towards my computer screen, where the unread emails in my inbox were multiplying by the minute.  If I could focus the rest of the day, I could maybe get out of here around 7.  "7:30?"  She texted back and confirmed that 7:30 would work, and I tossed my phone at the chair on the other side of the office.  Have to focus.  The last thing I needed was another scathing email from my dad about my "productivity." 

I managed to clear most of the files and papers off my desk by about 6:50.  I looked at my email again, then decided I'd work on those until 7:05.  I went through, deleting most of them, replying to the ones that required it.  At 7:06, I shut it down and stood up.  I walked into the bathroom that adjoined my office (not really that much of a perk.  I'm pretty sure it's so I'm less likely to get distracted on my way to the bathroom down the hall.  My dad did handpick this space and this office for me) and looked at myself in the mirror.  My shirt was wrinkled and my hair was seriously mussed.  I changed into the casual button down and jeans I usually kept here and used a little water to tame my hair. 

I grabbed my jacket and my cell phone and walked out of my office, locking the door on my way out.  The halls were empty.  I was the last one here, except for the security guard whose desk was at the end of the hall.  I checked out with him, wished him a good night, and jogged down the 8 flights of stairs to our underground parking area.

The benefit of leaving the office at 7:15 is that traffic is a piece of cake.  Liv smiled broadly when she pulled the door open for me.  Even now, that smile kills me.  She could ask me for anything in the entire world, and if she smiled at me like that, I'd give it to her.  I wondered if she knew the kind of power she held in that smile.

"Hi," I said.  "You look beautiful."  She blushed.  That killed me too.  There was something seriously attractive about a girl that has no idea how attractive she is. 

"Thank you," she said, rising up onto her tiptoes to kiss me.  I slid my hands around her waist and kissed her back eagerly, feeling the now-familiar tingle of electricity when our lips met.  My mind quickly drifted to what we could do if we skipped dinner, but my train of thought was broken before it got too far by Liv pulling away.  "I'm starving, where should we eat?" she asked.  Guess there would be no skipping dinner.

We debated for a minute before settling on a nearby restaurant.  As much as I loved my home in the foothills, out of the bustle of the city, I also really loved Liv's neighborhood.  It was nice to have so many places to eat so close, plus the easy commute to downtown.  It was a really nice night, so we decided to walk. 

Liv fidgeted through dinner, and I assessed her mood.  I had learned that being restless wasn't something that was terribly unusual for her, and sometimes it just meant that she had a lot of energy, but sometimes it meant she was anxious or in a bad mood.  She seemed fine tonight, and I guessed she was just feeling all the pent up energy from being trapped at her desk all day at work. 

After we had finished eating, I looked at her.  "Do you want to walk before we head back?" I asked.

"I would love to," she said, smiling at me.  We wandered around the brightly lit streets hand in hand for awhile before venturing into a residential neighborhood.  A couple blocks in, we spotted a park and walked towards it.  Liv immediately grabbed onto the bars on the side of the jungle gym and pulled herself up, easily climbing up to the top without benefit of the steps or ladders.

"That was impressive!" I called up to her, surprised.  "We should get you on the side of a mountain and see what you can do there."

"Um, no thanks!" she said with a laugh.  "But I did have the distinction of being the best hot lava tag player at my elementary school.

"Hot lava tag?" I asked, confused.  "That some weird Wisconsin game?"

"You've never played hot lava tag?" Liv responded in surprise, shaking her head.  "I'm sorry to report that your childhood was wasted!" 

I laughed.  "I think you'd better teach me so I don't waste any more of my life."  I listened as she explained the rules.

"So, the person who is 'it' is the lava monster and can't touch the walking surface of the playground equipment," she explained.  "The person or people who are not 'it' can only touch the actual ground for 10 seconds at a time, otherwise they will burn in the lava and become the new 'it'."

"Sounds easy enough, except then how does the person who's 'it' tag people?" I asked, still a little confused.

"By being creative!" she said.  "Climbing, usually.  Like this!"  She jumped down, then demonstrated the ways that 'it' could get close to the people on the playground equipment.  Her face was alight as she taught me how to play, and I loved that she got so excited about teaching me a childhood playground game.  Some people might find it a little silly, but I say that those people take life too seriously.

When she was finished, I said, "I think we'd better play so we can get the full experience."  She laughed and volunteered to be 'it' first, her eyes glinting in the dark.

I was surprised at how hard it was to evade her.  She climbed the equipment as easily as a monkey would and made leaps to the ground that would have terrified some grown men.  "Please try not to break an ankle," I called over my shoulder as I escaped after one of her more nerve-wracking (for me) jumps from the top of the structure to the ground.  She just laughed.  This was a side of Liv that I hadn't yet had the pleasure of meeting, and I loved it.

Finally, she cornered me at the top of a tunnel slide.  I had to brave a sprint across the ground no matter which way I went.  As I debated which would be the safest, Liv hopped up on the top of the rounded, covered slide and began to climb up towards me.  Making a quick decision, I slid into the slide that was definitely not made for an adult my size.  I was halfway down when she jumped off, and I knew she'd be waiting for me at the bottom.

Sure enough, there she was, leaning into the opening at the bottom and grinning devilishly at me.  "End of the line," she taunted me as I used my feet to slide to a stop just inches out of reach of her fingers.  I assessed my options quickly.  I was way too tall to turn around and climb back up, so short of me sitting here forever, she was right. 

"Not bad for my first time though, huh?" I asked, letting myself slide the rest of the way down to meet her.  When she reached out to tag me, I grabbed her hand and pulled her towards me.  She laughed in surprise as she tipped forward and landed on me.

"Not bad for your first time," she murmured back in agreement, before I kissed her.  She sighed softly into our kiss as I pushed a tangle of her blonde hair away from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear.  I let my fingers linger on the side of her neck, stroking softly, hoping to earn another sigh.  Instead, I was rewarded by her hands sliding beneath the hem of my shirt, her fingers skating across my sides to rest lightly against my lower back.

I tightened my arm around her waist, trying to pull her even closer to me.  She moved her lips off mine and shifted precariously in the small space, pressing her hips against mine.  I groaned, pressing my face into her neck.  "Maybe we should head back," I breathed against her ear.  She nodded, but made no move to go anywhere.  I brushed my lips against her neck and her fingers tightened on my lower back.

"If you want me to go, you'll have to stop that," she said.

"Stop what?" I teased quietly.  "This?" I pressed my mouth to her neck, swirling my tongue against it lightly before gently nipping at the spot.  She moaned softly and I felt her nails on my back.  I grinned against her neck and moved my lips to her throat.  Her nails raked across my back as she shifted away.

"We have to go," she said breathlessly, wiggling backwards out of the slide.  We walked back to her house in record time and she barely let me close the door behind me before pushing me down on the couch and climbing on top of me.  Apparently our trip to the park had brought out her aggressive side, and that alone turned me on.  I let her pull off my shirt before wrapping my hands around her legs and standing, lifting her with me as I walked towards the stairs.

Once we were up there, none of the rest of our clothes lasted very long.  After, we laid curled together for nearly a half hour.  Reluctantly, I sat up.  Liv rolled over and blinked at me sleepily.  "Where are you going?" she asked.

"I have to go home.  I didn't bring any clothes for work tomorrow."  She frowned, wrinkling her nose.

"Okay," she said.  "Are we still going out tomorrow?"

I leaned down and kissed her, first on the lips, then on the tip of her still wrinkled nose.  "I was planning on it," I replied.

"Good," she said, her face relaxing into a smile.

"Goodnight, beautiful," I said, kissing her one more time.  "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight," she murmured back, eyes already closed.  I paused and ran a finger down the side of her face before leaving.  She turned her head just slightly towards my hand, which made me smile.  Finally, I pulled myself away.  I looked at my watch as I walked down the stairs.  It was after 11:30, and would be nearly midnight by the time I got home, but it was worth every second with Liv.

Feelings are Hard

My refreshed feeling continued all the way until I pulled up my calendar on Monday morning.  I sighed as I looked at it.  When Jeremy came in and told me that he intended to hold off on restarting the next round of groups until at least one person was trained and ready to go, I could have kissed him. This week was the last week of both of the groups I was running, but we had planned to start another round in two weeks.  Now I could breathe a little more easily for now.  I enjoyed facilitating the groups, but they added a lot of work onto my already full plate.

I examined my schedule and found I had left myself a nice hour long lunch break on Wednesday, and texted Brody.  He agreed to keep it open for me.  After that, I knew I couldn't procrastinate any longer, and I got to work.

Monday and Tuesday flew by.  I even managed to meet Kinsley at the gym on Tuesday.  It was nice to see Brody on Wednesday at lunch, because Wednesday was otherwise my longest and worst day.  At lunch, we made plans for him to come to my house on Saturday.  I was planning to make dinner for us in a seriously lacking attempt to thank him for last weekend.

On Thursday, I decided I'd go to happy hour, even though I didn't really feel like it.  I was the last one there, and ended up between Lauren and Savannah, who was sitting next to Brody and didn't move when I came.  I tried to ignore her and catch up with Lauren, but she insisted on talking my ear off about everything and nothing.  I couldn't wrap my head around this new nice act, and it made me nervous.  But I did my best to be polite, not wanting to add any fuel to the crazy fire.

Brody drove me home, and when we got there he parked in the driveway and turned off the car.  He turned to me.  "I have to go to Miami this weekend."

"This weekend?" I parroted.

"I'm sorry, I know it's short notice.  But something happened at the main office and my dad needs some help.  I'm not really sure of the details, but he put me a flight that leaves tomorrow afternoon.  I didn't even have an option."

"Well, that sucks," I said, before I could stop myself.  "I mean, I get it, but I was looking forward to seeing you, since the weekends are pretty much the only time."

"I know," he said sympathetically.  "I don't like it either.  I'll hopefully be back Wednesday or Thursday, so we'll have next weekend at least."  I nodded.  I knew that part of his job was to be at his dad's beck and call, but the late notice with zero flexibility sucked.  I am a planner, and I hate when people change my plans on me.   "I'm not going to the office here tomorrow, so if you want, I can stay tonight."  I agreed, and we went inside.  We got ready for bed right away, had the laziest sex in the world, and were asleep within an hour of leaving happy hour.  In the morning, I woke before my alarm.  I turned it off so Brody could get a little more sleep, and jumped in the shower.  He woke up while I was getting dressed.  We ate a quick breakfast together and said goodbye for the next few days.

Tonight was girls' night, and we had chosen a low-key lounge, for which I was thankful.  We met there at 9, and I had a really good time.  We caught up and drank, and no one disappeared with random guys this time.  I told them about my weekend and confessed something that had been on my mind for a couple weeks.

"So, he's basically a reformed partying manwhore, right?"  They nod.  "Except...he's practically perfect."  Lauren pretended to gag herself.  After a pointed glare, I continue.  "So, he just basically gives and never takes.  I mean, he pays for everything, he's constantly thinking about what I need, and even in bed...the guy never even gives me a chance to do anything for him.  It's all about me."

"And what, exactly, is the problem?" Kinsley asked.  "Do you miss giving BJs?  This sounds like a bragplaint to me."  We laughed.

"It's just that, and I don't know, maybe this is my own paranoia...but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.  No one is that perfect.  And all it's doing is making me like him more."

"Maybe he feels bad that he unleashed Savannah's insanity into the world and he's trying to repent," suggested Cassie.

"Maybe he's secretly a murderer and he's trying to trick you," Lauren cackled.

I waited for Kinsley's smart remark, but she just shrugged.  "I've seen the way he looks at you.  I just think he's crazy about you."  Lauren booed her and we laughed.

"Well...I don't know.  It's just all happened so fast--"

Cassie interrupted this time.  "Yeah?  Because I distinctly remember analyzing why he wasn't banging you after the second date!"

"But that's exactly my point!" I exclaimed, getting frustrated that I wasn't explaining myself well.  "Having sex so soon into dating someone is not my thing.  I mean, the tension was building for awhile before we actually went on a date, which makes it a little different, I guess, but the fact that I had not a doubt in my mind about having sex with him, and was mad when he turned me down is crazy to me.  And it's only been like 6 weeks now, and I hate that he's gone.  I don't even know who I am anymore."

All three of them were staring at me.  Finally, Cassie spoke.  "Are you...in love with him?" she asked.

I covered my burning face with my hands.  When I looked up, I shrugged helplessly.  "I don't know," I said truthfully.  "It still doesn't feel real, so I just don't know." 

"But you've clearly considered the possibility," Lauren responded.  I nodded.  "Well, it wouldn't be the strangest thing to ever happen," she said with a shrug.

I didn't feel any more clear on my feelings when we left.  I spent the cab ride home pondering it while Kinsley and Cassie debated the finer points of baseball uniform pants.  By the time the cab dropped me and Cassie off in front of our townhomes, I was actually feeling more stressed about it than I had been when I brought it up.  Cassie hugged me.  "Stop stressing out about whether or not you're in love with him, and just enjoy where it's going," she chided, reading my mind.

"You're right, but you know me, over-analyzing is what I do.  I even get paid to do it!" She shook her head and we parted ways to our respective houses.

Heeeyy, youuuuu guuuuuuyssssss!

I'm back from my trip and I have excellent news!

Today my humble little blog hit 50,000 views.  I'm super excited!  So excited that I'm going to post a bonus post (from the main storyline) on Thursday.  I also am going to try to pull together a non-storyline bonus for Tuesday so you guys can have a post every day this week! 

So, any requests for Tuesday's post?  Anyone's perspective that you'd like to hear something from?  Otherwise, I had a suggestion awhile ago to maybe just do a post about a random Liv and Brody date, since you guys seem to love reading about them so much.  That's an option too.

Tell me in the comments what you'd like to see on Tuesday!  And thank you guys so much for reading!  I appreciate all of you so much :)

(Then) Savannah

Eyes on Cornell Part 2

Julia had offered to help me with my essay as soon as I told her I was applying to Cornell, but unlike most of the people I knew, I wanted to try it on my own first.  Well, now I had tried and failed.  Not getting into Cornell wasn’t an option, so hopefully Julia would be able to help. 

She came over the next day and carefully read the part of my application that told me what to write.  Then she gave me some tips and talked me through my ideas.  She had me write down some notes, then told me to write and email it to her to edit when I was done.  I hugged her and thanked her for her help.  I actually had an idea of what to write now.

I did some writing and revising.  I couldn’t spend too long working on it at once without Mother getting suspicious, so I did the best could over the next several days.  I felt good about it the morning of the party, but decided to sit on it for a couple more days before sending it to Julia.

Mother helped me get ready for the party.  Or, rather, Mother stood in my bedroom and directed the people she had hired to help me get ready for the party.  I sat perfectly still like a good little doll as Mother’s hair artist (Seriously, lady? Hair Artist? Come on.) swept my long blonde hair into a perfect updo.  Then the makeup person, who must be new, painted my face.  Mother was horrified after and snapped something about drag queens.  Then she made the makeup person take it all off before she fired her and did my makeup herself. 

I regarded myself in the mirror when they were all finished fussing over me.  I looked like I could have been one of the developers’ third wives.  They go younger and younger each time, you know.  Mother frowned and regarded my arms, which were perfectly sculpted from hours of tennis practice.  “It’s a good thing we got something with a little bit of a sleeve at least,” she muttered, poking at invisible fat at the back of my arm.

“Don’t frown, mother.  Your plastic surgeon works hard enough already.”  It came out with the perfect amount of haughtiness.  It’s a tone that’s well known amongst the people that “Maintain Appearances.”  She quickly forced her face into a relaxed state, but it didn’t stop her from glaring at me.  You only need your eyes for that.

She ushered me out of my room and we walked downstairs.  I walked as easily in my 4 inch stiletto heels as I do barefoot (not that being barefoot is allowed, being barefoot is for poor people).  Another one of those things I’ve been forced to practice since I could walk. 

“You look beautiful, honey,” Daddy said, as I made my way down the stairs.

“Thank you, Daddy!” I chirped, kissing him on the cheek.  We waited patiently while Mother rattled off the rules.  I don’t know why she bothered.  The first thing Daddy did every time he took me to one of these things was give me a glass of champagne.  That was definitely against Mother’s rules. 

We arrived at the party venue, a chic museum that had been transformed, with a string quartet near the ticket window, a bar opposite, and tables lining the empty spaces.  The middle of the entrance hall now contained scale models of properties: houses, golf courses, even this very museum.  Because of course Daddy had done the flawless addition to this building 6 years ago.  One of his assistants stood near the models, answering questions politely. 

“Mr. Charles!” came a voice.  “And is this the Mrs. Charles?” The tall man took my hand and kissed it.  Who was this guy?  No one does that anymore.

Daddy chuckled.  “Don’t be ridiculous, Bob.  This is my daughter Savannah.  Savannah, this is Bob Bradley.  Bob is an owner at Bradley and Smithson Development.”

“So nice to meet you, Mr. Bradley,” I simpered, with a coquettish smile.  Daddy nodded in approval. 

“Bob, please,” he said, smiling broadly.  And ogling.  Daddy never insisted anyone call him by first name.  He said it was a sign of weakness.  Mother would say that only poor people insist someone call them by their first name.   Mother makes a lot of assumptions about poor people, because I’m pretty sure she’s never met someone who actually qualifies as poor.

The rest of the evening was much of the same.  Daddy didn’t limit my champagne, and by the end of the night I was a little wobbly on my feet.  I also didn’t notice the lecherous stares as much. 

We left the party a little after 1, with Daddy insisting it was improper to keep a 17-year-old out any later, because nothing good happens after 1 am.  This statement, which he repeated over and over, was accompanied by a wink and a laugh.  I did my best to paste a smile on my face and not shudder.

In the car, I loosened the straps of my shoes and wiggled my toes, which had now been numb for roughly 4 hours.  They tingled slightly as the blood flowed back into them. 

“Another successful event,” Daddy muttered.  “Thank you, Savannah.”  I nodded silently. 

When I got home, I pulled off the dress and left it in a heap on the floor.  I took a long, steamy shower, scrubbing the makeup off my face and trying to exfoliate away the lingering memories of the stares and hungry smiles.  Each time I went to a party like this, I got a little more used to it.  A small part of me even started to enjoy the attention.  But after, I always felt gross.

The next day, I got up and re-read my personal statement.  I made a few small changes.  I still couldn’t bring myself to send it to Julia, so I told myself I’d give it one more day, then send it.  I tried not to think about it for the rest of the day.  I went to tennis practice, then to the beach with Jeff and some of his friends.  I told Mother I was shopping, of course.

As I read the statement one more time the next afternoon, I couldn’t find any changes to make.  I knew it was time to send it to Julia.  Summer was almost over, and I needed her to have plenty of time to look it over.  I was planning to apply early decision to Cornell and I wanted to get everything take care of as soon as possible. 

I took a deep breath and hit send.  I felt a rush of anxiety as the “Your message has been sent” dialogue popped up, but there wasn’t anything more I could do but wait to hear back from Julia.

Stress Relief, the Natural Way

I laid blissfully in the huge tub for almost a half hour, doing absolutely nothing.  After the past month, it was quite possibly the best feeling ever.  When Brody stuck his head in to tell me dinner would be ready in a few minutes, I reluctantly got out, dried off, and found some sweatpants and a tank top to put on.  I met Brody out on the deck, where we ate our delicious dinner.  Doesn't food always taste better when someone else cooks it for you?

After dinner, Brody grins at me.  "Feel like reliving your childhood?" he asked.

"Hmmm, depends on which part," I responded, cocking an eyebrow.

He disappeared into a hallway and came back with a stack of board games.  Life, Scrabble, Monopoly, and checkers.

"The best part!" I exclaimed.  "Yes, please."  I'm a huge board game fan, I don't even care how lame it is.  And board games tailored to adults just aren't nearly as much fun as driving a plastic car filled with plastic peg people through a simulated life.  We played Life, then two games of Scrabble.  After I beat him mercilessly (again) on the second game, he held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, okay!  If I had a white flag, I'd wave it.  I can't handle losing another game tonight," he said, laughing.  He looked at his watch, and informed me it was after 11.  We were planning to hike tomorrow and I wanted to go all the way to the lake this time, so we were hoping to get an earlier start.

We were up around 7 and on our way by 8.  It was a beautiful morning, cool and crisp and sunny.   Brody decided to drive us the half mile to the trailhead since we planned to try to do the whole 10 miles.  We grabbed our packs and set off. 

Because of the nature of both of our jobs, we generally spent very little time talking about work.  HIPAA (and my own morals) kept me legally bound to protect my clients' privacy, and Brody was contractually obligated to keep his mouth shut about his.  So aside from some talk about coworkers and very general stories, we are forced to find other things to talk about.  With someone else, it might be difficult, but with Brody, it was easy.

We talked and joked easily during most of the 5 miles down to the lake.  We made good time, since it was generally downhill.  At the lake, we stopped and took out the sandwiches we had packed.  After we had eaten them, I walked down the rocky "beach" to the edge of the gorgeous lake.  I stuck my hand in, and pulled it out quickly.  The water, as I had suspected it would be, was ice cold.

Brody had walked down after me, and smiling deviously, he picked me and threw me over his shoulder.  He walked right up to the edge of the lake with me over his shoulder.  "Want to go for a swim?" he asked, laughing.

"No!" I shrieked.  "If you don't put me down..." I trailed off, at a loss for a useful threat.

"Down?" he asked innocently.  He flipped me off his shoulder towards the lake, catching me inches from the shallow, freezing water.   "Be careful what you wish for," he said with a wink, turning and depositing me gently on the rocks.  I mock-glared at him, and he just smiled and kissed me.  We gathered our stuff and started back.

The hike back was considerably more difficult, and I was feeling the thinner air on top of it.  We went slowly and took a few breaks, but by the time we made it back to the trailhead, I was seriously thankful to not have to keep going the half mile back to the cabin, because I was pretty sure I couldn't take another step.

I hauled myself into the SUV and collapsed against the seat.  "Okay?" Brody asked me, glancing over as he started it up.  I nodded.  I was tired and sore but I felt refreshed and calm.  The past few weeks of work were a distant memory.  I smiled and shut my eyes, leaning my head against the head rest.

When we got back, Brody grabbed both of our packs and held out a hand to me as I stood at the bottom of the deck stairs, looking dubiously up.  "I think you might have to carry me," I declared.

"12 stairs, and then you can sit in the hot tub for the rest of the day, if you want," he replied, tugging on my hand. 

"Can I eat in there too?  Because I am starving."  I managed the steps, and decided the hot tub was an excellent idea, I immediately went to put on my swim suit.  Brody came in while I was changing and eyed my half naked body.  "Nope.  Don't you even think about it," I warned him.  "I need to recover.  You're insane."  He laughed and changed too.

We got in the hot tub and the hot water made my sore muscles instantly feel better.  When Brody pulled my foot into his lap and began massaging it, working his way up my calf muscle, I leaned back and closed my eyes.  He moved his hands up to my tender, overworked hamstring and I yelped.   "Sorry," he said, decreasing the pressure of his fingers.  He worked his way up my hamstring then grabbed my other foot, repeating the process.  "If you want," he said, still rolling his knuckles over my hamstring, "we can go inside and I can do a better job.  I'll do your back too."

That was a no brainer, and after a quick shower I was soon getting an excellent massage.  It didn't take too long for it to turn into something a little more scandalous, but I wasn't wasting time cuddling afterward.  I was starving and pulled him to the kitchen with me.  We made some dinner and ate out on the deck, drinking wine.  After dinner, I washed dishes while Brody started a fire in the pit, and we spent the rest of the night drinking wine and making s'mores. 

"Ready for a longer hike tomorrow?" Brody asked jokingly, as we put out the fire.

"Yup, as long as you're carrying me!" I retorted.


In the morning, I was awake before Brody.  I went into the kitchen and turned on the Keurig.  I chopped some veggies and was scrambling eggs for omelets when Brody walked in.  He smiled sleepily at me.  "Good morning, gorgeous."

"Morning," I said, smiling back.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Sore as hell.  Not ready for tomorrow to be Monday.  But other than that, pretty damn good!"  We ate breakfast leisurely, then cleaned up.  We loaded our stuff into the Sequoia and started back.

When we got to Brody's house, he asked if I wanted to stay for awhile, but I shook my head.   "I have laundry and some cleaning I should get done.  If I don't do it today, I'm scared to see what it would look like by next weekend!"  We loaded my stuff into my car, and I leaned against it and pulled Brody close to me.  "Thank you," I said.  "This was amazing, and I needed it.  I'm so happy you took Friday off so we could do this.  I owe you big time."

"I'm glad it was what you needed.  It was good for me to have a weekend away too," he said.  "But don't be ridiculous, you don't owe me anything."  He kissed me and then I slipped my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.  I pulled away reluctantly, kissing him one more time before getting into my car.

"Lunch sometime this week?" he asked, holding on my door as I put my seatbelt on.

"If I can.  I'll text you tomorrow and let you know my schedule," I responded.  He nodded and said goodbye before shutting my car door.  While a small part of me still dreaded work this week, I felt refreshed after spending the weekend in the mountains.

(Now) Alex's Perspective: What's a Fourth with no Fireworks?

If you need a refresher on the original post, you can find it here.

Of course the hikers came back just in time to eat lunch, but not to help with it.  At least they cleaned up.  After, I suggested opening up the hot tub.  I was a little irritated (and maybe jealous) that Brody got to spend the entire morning with Liv, but at least now I could check her out in her swimsuit.  As we pulled the cover off of the hot tub, I heard the girls approaching, laughing hysterically about something.

I turned to look, and spied the cooler full of beer sitting next to the hot tub.  Perfect excuse to go talk to them.  I grabbed three beers and walked over.  Damn it, Liv was a fucking knockout.  Actually, they all are.  There probably weren't three guys in the entire state that were luckier than me, Kevin, and Brody right now.

I held out the beers.  "I was going to offer these, but I'm not sure any of you need them," I said, regarding them.  Liv's face was bright red and Lauren was bent double laughing.  Kinsley was making a strangled gasping sound.

"Are you kidding?" Liv asked.  "I've never needed it more.  You try sharing a room with these weirdos."  She took the beer I held out to her and rewarded me with a nod and a perfect smile.  By the time I was done taking the caps off the other two and handing them to Kinsley and Lauren, Liv was already in the hot tub.  I groaned inwardly when I saw she was right next to Brody.

The sliding door of the deck above opened and I heard Savannah's voice.  A second later, she appeared on the stairs followed by Allie and Christian.  I went over to the hot tub and got in quickly, claiming the spot on the other side of Liv.  With everyone, it was a little crowded, but I clearly wasn't sad about having to scoot closer to Liv.  When our legs brushed, I had to stop a stupid smile from spreading over my face.

I noticed Savannah drinking very quickly on Brody's other side.  I sighed.  Drunk Savannah was a shit show.  She was likely to break something, get hurt, throw up everywhere, or cry.  That was just par for the course for Drunk Savannah.

Lauren, Kinsley, and Liv didn't last long in the hot tub.  The rest of us stayed another half hour or so.  Savannah was the next one out, and she almost toppled over as she climbed out.  Brody caught her arm right before she fell on her face.  On my other side, Allie groaned.  She touched my arm and I looked at her.  "Help me, please?" she pleaded softly.  I nodded and we both got out and hurried after Savannah.

Savannah had made it about half way up the stairs, and she was now sitting precariously there, leaning against the railing.

"This is a no stopping zone," I said, taking her arm.  "Let's go."  She looked up at me with glassy eyes.

"Will you help me get another beer?" she slurred.

"Absolutely not, but I will help you get up these stairs and to your room.  I think you should lay down for a little while.  Then, when you get up, I'll help you get another beer."  She considered this for several seconds, then nodded and let me haul her to her feet.  Allie trailed behind us, being entirely unhelpful.

I thought we were in the clear, but when we got to the living room, she yanked her arm away from me and made a dash towards the kitchen.  "Tricked you!" she cried.  Allie stepped into her path and slowed her down long enough for me to wrap an arm around her waist.  "I'm not going to bed, asshole!" she yelled, slamming her fist down on my forearm.

"Just for a little while, Savannah," Allie said soothingly.

"Oh shut up!" she snapped.  As she reached for a nearby beer bottle, I heard voices coming down the hall.  "It's empty!" she said.  And then she hurled it towards the wall.  We all spun and froze as the bottle hit the wall inches from Liv and Kinsley's heads.  Liv and Kinsley leaped in opposite directions.  It was a good thing it wasn't flying towards Lauren, because she just stood there with her mouth open.

Now behind me, Savannah suddenly started crying.  I rolled my eyes.  Seriously?  You weren't one of the ones that almost just took a flying beer bottle to the face.  I caught Allie's eye and nodded and we each grabbed one of Savannah's arms and hauled her to her feet, then through the living room towards the room she and Allie were sharing.

15 minutes later we had Savannah successfully in bed.  In the living room, the girls and Brody had gotten the glass cleaned up and were discussing going into town.  We decided against it, and sat in the living room chatting.  Liv got up and was walking towards her room when she suddenly yelped in pain.  She lifted her heel and we could all clearly see a piece of sharp brown glass there.

Brody led her off to take care of it, causing another small surge of jealousy and irritation.  While they were doing that, I got up to start the grill for dinner to distract myself.  I turned the gas on and pressed the starter button but nothing happened.  It didn't click, the grill didn't light.  I tried again.  Nothing.  I turned the gas back off and walked into the kitchen.  I pulled drawers open looking for matches or a lighter.  I knew there was one somewhere.  I searched all the drawers with no luck.  I called Christian in to search, and he didn't find anything either.

I headed inside and down the hall towards Brody's room.  It was quiet as I approached, and as I stepped into the open doorway, I made eye contact with Liv who was standing by the window.  My stomach dropped as I surveyed the scene in front of me.  Liv stood facing the door, and Brody was there too, with his back to me and one hand on Liv's hip and one on her neck.  Brody noticed Liv react to my presence and let his hands fall away, turning towards me.

"Um, sorry.  Did you have any matches?  Or a lighter?  The starter button on the grill..."  I stopped, staring at them.  I could feel my face get hot.

"Sure.  There are some in the kitchen drawer," Brody responded, starting to turn back towards Liv.

"Yeah, we looked.  Couldn't find them.  Can you come look?"  I stood there stubbornly.  I wasn't sure why I couldn't just let them have their moment.  Spite, I guess. 

Brody glared at me, which pissed me off.  I was even more determined to stand here until they moved now.

"Okay.  I'll be there in a second," he said finally.  I didn't move.  Brody sighed and said something quietly to Liv.  She nodded and they walked towards the door.  I watched Liv as she walked towards me, conscious of my red face.  The anger was fading and now I was just embarrassed that I believed her when she said she wanted to get settled before she started dating anyone.  I stepped aside to let her pass, and resisted the urge to body slam Brody into the door frame as he exited after.

I avoided both of them for the rest of the night.  Kevin asked me why everyone looked so pissed and I muttered that I interrupted something when I went looking for matches and left it at that.  I ended up being one of the first people to go to bed because it was getting harder to avoid either of them.

I got up fairly early the next morning and grabbed a soda out of the fridge.  I walked out onto the deck and was surprised to see Liv sitting there, reading.  "Oh!" I said, stupidly.  "Um...hey.  I didn't think...I didn't think anyone was out here.  I'm just going to..." I trailed off, then turned and walked back inside.  Real smooth.

I went back to the room I was sharing with Kevin and laid low for awhile.  When I came back out, Lauren, Allie, Kinsley and Kendra were in the living room.  I looked out onto the deck and saw Brody sitting there, alone.  I decided I had to say something, and I went out.

"What the hell, man?" I asked, sitting down next to him.  He looked at me in surprise, but didn't say anything.  "Why didn't you just tell me you were interested in Liv?  It was pretty shitty to find out by walking in on you guys almost kissing."  Behind us, the door slid open.  I looked back and saw Kevin stepping out onto the deck.

"Shit, Alex.  I'm sorry.  I was going to say something, but I don't even know if she's interested in me," he responded.  Pathetic apology, if you ask me.

"Are you an idiot?" Kevin asked.  Brody raised his eyebrows.  "She's definitely interested in you."  Ouch.  Thanks, Kev.

But even though it sucked to admit, Kevin was right.  I nodded.  "She is, dude."

Brody looked at me questioningly.  Sometimes he was such an idiot.   I sighed.  "If you want to go for it, go for it.  But fucking hell man, next time have a little respect for me and let me know, okay?"

He nodded.  "I'm sorry.  I should have, you're right."  After a pause he asked if we wanted a beer.  We both nodded and he got up and walked towards the house.  He paused at the door.  "Are we cool?" he asked.

"Once I have that beer in my hand we are," I said.  He laughed and headed in.

"You good?" Kevin asked, looking at me curiously.

I shrugged.  "Sucks, but what do you do?  If she's not into me, then she's not into me."  Kevin nodded and I continued, "But if he's going to go for it, I just hope he doesn't fuck it up."

"Yeah, no kidding," Kevin agreed.  "He's awfully good at that."

The Best Weekend Ever

Happy Monday, readers! I'm on vacation this whole week. I have posts written and scheduled to post Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday at 6am for you. Barring any technical difficulties, you shouldn't even notice I'm gone :) if something doesn't post, please feel free to let me know in a comment or email, and I'll do my best to get it up ASAP.
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As I had guessed, Lauren wasn't pleased with me when I called Thursday evening to tell her I was skipping girls' night.  When I reminded her what happened at the last one, she grudgingly admitted that maybe she owed me one.  "I will let it go, just this once," she said.  "Never again."

"Never again, or at least not until the next time you skip out halfway through with some drunk meathead," I teased.  She groaned.

"I wish you'd stop reminding me.  That was such a bad life choice."

"But that's what I'm here for!" I chirped.  We said goodbye, and I went back to packing my bag for the weekend.  I turned to Brody, who was reclined on my bed, waiting for me to finish packing.  I held up a pair of shorts.  "Do you think it will be warm enough?" I asked.

"I have no idea why you're even bringing clothes," he said, grinning devilishly at me.  I rolled my eyes and threw the shorts in my bag.  Just in case.  I walked into my bathroom and grabbed my makeup bag and my hair dryer.  I eyed my straightener but decided against it.  I tossed the dryer and makeup into my bag, grabbed my hiking boots, and slipped a pair of flip flops on. 

"Ok, ready," I said. 

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.  "That was actually pretty quick," he said, looking down at his watch.

"I told you," I replied.  "I get ready for work in 40 minutes, shower, breakfast, and all.  I can be quick if I want to."  He grabbed my bag headed for the door.  We were spending the night at his house, and driving out to the cabin in the morning.

My eyes closed as he drove.  Today had been a long day, and it was already after 9.  I was so thankful for my long weekend.  We had gotten good news that they had hired one person, but she still wouldn't start for over a week.  At least there was help on the horizon.

I was must have dozed off, because I awoke with a start when Brody parked his SUV.  I blinked in the garage light.  "We're here, sleepyhead.  I'll grab your bag and we'll get you into a bed so you can sleep for real."  I climbed out of the car and walked towards the door.  I barely had enough motivation to wash my face and brush my teeth, but I managed.  I stood next to the bed, considering digging through my bag for something to wear to bed.  Instead I pulled off my pants and my shirt and crawled into bed in my underwear and camisole.  I was asleep before Brody even got into bed. 

The next morning I woke to the smell of coffee and bacon.  I rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom.  After splashing some water on my face and brushing my teeth, I felt a little more awake.  I found Brody in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove.  He smiled when he saw me.  "Sleep well?"

"Mmmhmm," I replied, taking the coffee mug he offered me.  I plunked a K cup into the Keurig and pressed the button.  "Smells like bacon," I said, after my first sip.

"Yeah, the bacon is for me.  I made sausage for you," he responded, nodding to a covered plate on the stove.  "Eggs will be done in a minute.  Do you want toast?"  I shook my head, and was pleased he remembered my dislike of bacon.

"You are seriously the best, do you know that?" I asked.

"Who else would be?" he replied with a laugh. 

We enjoyed our breakfast unhurriedly.  When we were finished, I stood and grabbed both of our plates and took them to the sink.  I began to fill it up to wash them but was stopped by Brody's arms around my waist.  "Nope," he said, before brushing his lips across the tender skin just behind my ear.  "This is your weekend to relax, and I won't have you ruin that by doing dishes.  Go take a shower, and I'll take care of these."

"But you cooked," I protested.

"I also have already showered," he responded, "and you have not."  He removed his hands from my waist and grabbed my shoulders, turning me towards the stairs and swatting me on the butt.  "Go!"

I shook my head and went to take a shower. By the time I was clean and dressed, with a little makeup on, Brody had breakfast cleaned up and his bag in the car.  I grabbed mine and we took off.

"Can you believe that the last time we were driving to this cabin together, we barely even knew each other?" I mused out loud.

"Seems like a really long time ago," Brody agreed.  He glanced at me and smiled, reaching over to take my hand.  I interlaced my fingers with his and leaned my head back against the head rest, enjoying the scenery out the windows.

We stopped at the same grocery store we had stopped on the way up to the cabin for the 4th of July and picked up some food.  At the liquor store, we picked out a few nice bottles of wine and some beer.  We loaded the stuff into the back and finished the drive to the cabin.

After putting away the groceries, Brody picked up our bags and walked to the master suite.  I trailed behind him, running my fingers along the furniture and walls, remembering everything that had happened the first time we were here.  I was even almost thankful for Savannah's bottle throwing tantrum, because it allowed for the first real time alone Brody and I had ever spent together...even if most of it was him removing glass from my foot.

He tossed the bags on the bed and went into the bathroom.  I heard the water running, and I walked over to the picture window that overlooked the beautiful valley below.  The water shut off, and a few seconds later, Brody was behind me, squeezing my shoulders.

"I just can't get over how gorgeous it is," I said, leaning back against him.

"That's funny," he said quietly, "because I just can't get over how gorgeous you are."  My face grew hot, but I smiled.  He slid his hands down my arms and rested them on my hips.  I sighed as his lips found the back of my neck, kissing slowly down to my shoulder.  He nipped playfully at the spot where my neck meets my shoulder, and I moaned softly.  His hands slid around to the front of my jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them.  He traced a finger across the skin along the waistband before pushing them down.  I stepped out of them, leaning against him for balance.  One hand moved lower, teasing me through my thong.  I arched my back and grabbed his hand, pushing it against me more forcefully.

Still kissing and nibbling along my neck and my shoulder, he slipped his hand inside my underwear, stroking me gently.  I moaned again and steadied myself against the windowsill.  He locked an arm around my waist, supporting my weight as his fingers moved faster against me.  I rocked my hips against his hand, breathing hard.  When my legs gave out, he held me firmly as I arched against him.  He led me to the bed and pulled off the rest of my clothes, then kissed me hard. I pulled back and pulled his shirt off, then got to work on his pants.  I slid them down and reached for him.

He let me stroke him twice before he pulled my hand away with a groan.  "Your weekend, remember?" he said gruffly.  He slid down the bed, pulling my knees apart.  He lowered his head between my legs, and when his tongue touched my already sensitive flesh, I almost yelped.  After my second orgasm,  I  laid there, breathing hard, while he put on a condom.  He climbed on top of me but I shook my head.  "Wait," I gasped.  "Please."

It didn't take too long for me to recover, and he quickly wore me out again.  He laid back down next to me, his fingers dancing across my back.  "That was impressive," he murmured, his voice sounding muffled from the pillow my head was buried in.

"Mmmmm," I replied, unable to manage any words.  He laughed softly, his fingers working against a knot in my shoulder.  Eventually, my brain started working again, and I rolled onto my side.  He smiled at me.  "This is already the best weekend ever," I declared.

"It's about to get better," he said.

"Better than three orgasms?  I'm not sure that's possible."

He laughed.  "Well, okay, maybe not better than that, but I'm starving, so I'm going to go grill those scallops and shrimp.  And you are going to do whatever you want.  Nap, take a bath, read, whatever."

"Oh, that is pretty good," I agreed.  I choose a bath, and 5 minutes later I was sinking into the jetted tub in his bathroom, thinking about all the wonderful things I must have done in a past life to earn a weekend like this.

(Then) Savannah

Author's Note:  This is the first post in my new Friday series.  It's a Savannah back story flashback, and it's told from her perspective.  Going forward, you'll be able to know if it's a flashback because it will say (Then) in the title.  A different character's perspective on the current storyline will say (Now).  The character will be denoted in the title too.  I hope it won't be confusing, but if it does get confusing, please let me know and I will figure out how to make it more clear.  I hope you enjoy the first part of Savannah's story!

And of course, credit where credit is due:  If it weren't for Marci at Love Life LA asking me to do a guest post on one of her character's backgrounds awhile back, I probably would not have thought of back-stories for my characters!  Check her blog out if you haven't already.
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Eyes on Cornell Part 1

I walked in the door after my tennis lesson and dropped my bag on the floor.  Right there, in the middle of the living room.  No one would say anything about it, but it gave me a twisted sense of satisfaction anyway. 

I moved into the kitchen, hoping for a snack.  But of course Mother was there, barking directions at people.  She looked at me with disdain.  “Savannah, aren’t you going to change?  And shower?”

“I just got home, mother.  I’m pretty sure the shower will be there for awhile.”  I opened the fridge, but I could feel her judgmental eyes on my back.  I grabbed a bottle of water instead of the leftover chicken I was eyeing and shut the door. 

“Your father called,” she said, when I was about to walk out of the kitchen.  I turned back. 

“Oh?” I prompted.

“He wants you to attend a party with him next week when he gets back.”  She looked at me critically.  “We’ll probably have to get you a new dress.  I don’t think you’ll fit in the navy one anymore.”  The comment was made casually, but it stung.  “We’ll go tomorrow.  We’ll find you something a little more grown-up than the navy one, anyway.”  With that, she turned and I was clearly dismissed. 

I walked out of the kitchen and back through the living room.  My bag was already gone, probably stashed safely away in the entry closet.  I trudged up the stairs to my room and got in the shower.  I wanted nothing more than to put on a pair of sweats, but I was probably causing Mother enough stress by needing a new dress, so I pulled a sundress out of my closet and shimmied into it. 

I flopped on my bed (flopping wasn’t allowed, but it certainly didn’t stop me) and tried not to think about my purpose at the party next week.   In a couple years, I’d be too old to be of much interest to the middle aged men that liked to ogle me as Daddy paraded me around.  At least all they did was ogle.  Ogle.  What a stupid word.

As the 17-year-old daughter of one of Orange County’s richest, most successful developers, I had very little purpose but to be ogled.  Seriously, who made up that word, anyway?  I had been created as a toy to dress up.  “Maintaining Appearances” is the only thing that matters in my parents’ world. 

The next day, I spent 3 painful hours shopping for a dress with Mother.  She rejected all of the choices pulled for me by the personal shoppers, then huffed about having to find something herself.  We walked out with a floor length black dress with a sweetheart neckline.  Its lace sleeves started just below the bust and went up over my shoulders, then down to the waist in back, leaving a deep V of bare skin showing.  Bronze stilettos and accessories complimented my blonde hair and tan skin, which I’m sure Mother will insist I get sprayed again before the party.  Can’t have tan lines from tennis practice showing.  Only poor people have tan lines. 

When we got home, Mother shoved the dress into one of the staffs’ hands and strode away.  I walked up to my room and turned on my computer.  I pulled up the essay I was working on for my Cornell application.  Not only did Cornell have the best Hospitality Management program in the US, but it was also in New York.  Do you have any idea how far away New York is from California?  My parents would have a cow, but all I would need to do was remind them of how much fun they would have telling all their inane, vapid friends about how their darling daughter was going to Cornell. 

I had been working my ass off to keep my grades at Ivy standards.  Luckily, part of “Maintaining Appearances” is having a well-rounded high school resume.  I attend an exclusive prep school (excuse me, Preparatory Academy) where I was president of the Italian club and National Honor Society, an associate editor of the yearbook, and treasurer of our school’s chapter of SADD.  I also had landed the lead role in the last 2 school plays and had my eye on the lead for the fall musical in my upcoming senior year, and I sat on Student Government.  Then, of course, there was tennis.  My school doesn’t have sports, but I play in the local club league, and I’m number 1 singles.  I also dutifully do my volunteer work: feeding the homeless in Chino (Mother fought that one), walking the dogs at the shelter, reading and singing to the old people at the nursing home.   All I have to do is not bomb my SATs.  If I can get to an interview, I’m sure I can charm the interviewer.  Charm is another essential ingredient for “Maintaining Appearances.”

Of course, I had backups.  Pennsylvania State, Purdue, Cal Poly, University of Denver—in that order.  Cal Poly is probably the only one that Daddy would approve of (can't have his little doll too far away, becoming corrupted by the outside world), but I had been manipulating him since I was old enough to speak full sentences, so I wasn’t too worried.  I just had to get in. 

My boyfriend Jeff had promised to help me study for the SATs.  He’s one of those annoying people that are perfectly brilliant but refuse to apply themselves to anything worthwhile.  Mother hated him right away. (“He goes to public school!” she had shrieked, as if it was the worst thing in the world.  Of course, only poor people go to public school, so to her, it probably was.)  Daddy was on the fence, but a few bats of my genetically perfect eyelashes had Daddy convincing Mother to tone it down.  It’s disgusting how easily I can manipulate him.  Sometimes I feel bad about it, but then I remember being paraded around galas and fundraisers and charity balls, and that kills the guilt straight away.

Daddy wasn’t even convinced of the need for me to apply to colleges at all.  He thought he’d just set me up with a son of one of his business partners and marry me off the second I graduated from high school.  Luckily, Mother was on my side for that one, but only because she thought I’d find better potential husbands in college, and being able to brag about all the worthy potential life partners throwing themselves at my feet was appealing to her.  Ah, the Mrs. Degree, alive and well in sunny Southern California!

I stared at the two paragraphs I had written so far in my personal statement.  I read through them and frowned.  I quickly stopped frowning, though, because wrinkles won’t get you anywhere in life.  I sighed (sighing is allowed, in fact, it’s encouraged—at least if you judge by how often Mother does it in a typical day) and deleted everything.  I had started and deleted this statement at least 17 times.  Finally, I picked up my phone.

“Hi, Julia!” I said cheerfully when she answered the phone.  My friend Julia was the editor of our school newspaper and founder and president of the Poetry Slam club.   “I’m ready to take you up on your offer to help me with my Cornell personal statement.”