beach. This must look like a shoebox to you."
"I hate our house. It's too big and impersonal and white. It doesn't feel like home," I say, thinking back to a time in my life that seems decades ago but is only four years. I once had a real home, and in the blink of an eye it was gone.
"Then why do you stay there? Why not live in the dorms or an apartment?"
"My mother needs me," I say, although I'm not sure if that's the truth or the reverse of it. I need her to help me keep my secret.
"I've seen your mother, Willow. She looks pretty spry to me," he says with a chuckle. Is he commenting on how my mother looks? I mean, she's a knockout for her age with her toned, tan body and blond hair, but he's way too young to be ogling my mother.
"Gross," I say rolling my eyes.
"That's not what I meant. Jeez, calm down. I simply mean that she is involved in activities all over town. She seems energetic."
I look at him and smile. "Sorry." I sigh and put my head back against the couch. "You must think I'm a complete lunatic."
"A little," he says, and I sit up and smack his leg. "No, really, I don't think that. I was worried that you were a typical college party animal, though."
"Well, I'm not. At all. But why aren't you? You seem a little straight laced, Reed Miller."
He smirks and then laughs, which is a weird combo. "I have a lot riding on this, Willow. That station will either make or break my future. I have a lot to prove to certain people, and I don't intend to fail. Nothing gets in my way, that's just how I roll."
He's acting so serious that is strikes me as humorous. "Yeah, you're a gangsta, alright." I realize too late that he didn't think my comment was so funny. He stares at me for a moment before speaking.
"I'm going to bed now, so make yourself at home. I'll drive you back to your house in the morning." He stands up and walks out. I don't know why what I said hit him so hard, but it obviously did. I grab a blanket from the chair beside me, pull it up around my neck and turn off the table lamp. I couldn't have screwed this day up more if I tried.
Chapter 6
The morning sun wakes me like a hammer. Streaming through the blinds, I feel it piercing my already pounding brain.
I can smell bacon cooking, and for a moment I'm transported back in time to a place where I'm safe and comfortable. My mother is cooking breakfast for me before school, and my father is sitting in his favorite recliner watching the morning news. From the outside, the scene looks picture perfect, and oh how I wish that was true. How I wish that my life had been a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting. But, it wasn't. Still, I don't want to open my eyes. I want to remain in my make believe world for just a few moments more.
"You're awake. Come eat something. It'll make you feel better," Reed says as he reaches a hand down to me. I take his hand and he pulls me up. The room feels uneven like I'm going to slide to the right. "Take it easy," he says softly as he puts his arm around my waist. The touch sends electricity through my body, and I never want the feeling to end.
He leads me into the kitchen and hands me some orange juice. I take a sip and start to feel better after a few minutes. He's quite the cook with bacon and eggs and biscuits ready for me to eat.
"I can't believe you did all this," I say looking at him incredulously.
"You do like breakfast, don't you?" he asks with a smile.
"Well, yes…"
"Then you need to eat. You had a rough night last night, so you need to start your day off a little bit better." He grabs a plate and loads it up with food, bringing it over to the table and pointing for me to sit down.
"I'm really sorry I upset you last night. I was just joking around, but obviously that's a touchy subject." I take a bite of my bacon, relishing the crunch of it. He cooks it just like my mother used to.
"It's no big deal. I overreacted really.
"I hate our house. It's too big and impersonal and white. It doesn't feel like home," I say, thinking back to a time in my life that seems decades ago but is only four years. I once had a real home, and in the blink of an eye it was gone.
"Then why do you stay there? Why not live in the dorms or an apartment?"
"My mother needs me," I say, although I'm not sure if that's the truth or the reverse of it. I need her to help me keep my secret.
"I've seen your mother, Willow. She looks pretty spry to me," he says with a chuckle. Is he commenting on how my mother looks? I mean, she's a knockout for her age with her toned, tan body and blond hair, but he's way too young to be ogling my mother.
"Gross," I say rolling my eyes.
"That's not what I meant. Jeez, calm down. I simply mean that she is involved in activities all over town. She seems energetic."
I look at him and smile. "Sorry." I sigh and put my head back against the couch. "You must think I'm a complete lunatic."
"A little," he says, and I sit up and smack his leg. "No, really, I don't think that. I was worried that you were a typical college party animal, though."
"Well, I'm not. At all. But why aren't you? You seem a little straight laced, Reed Miller."
He smirks and then laughs, which is a weird combo. "I have a lot riding on this, Willow. That station will either make or break my future. I have a lot to prove to certain people, and I don't intend to fail. Nothing gets in my way, that's just how I roll."
He's acting so serious that is strikes me as humorous. "Yeah, you're a gangsta, alright." I realize too late that he didn't think my comment was so funny. He stares at me for a moment before speaking.
"I'm going to bed now, so make yourself at home. I'll drive you back to your house in the morning." He stands up and walks out. I don't know why what I said hit him so hard, but it obviously did. I grab a blanket from the chair beside me, pull it up around my neck and turn off the table lamp. I couldn't have screwed this day up more if I tried.
Chapter 6
The morning sun wakes me like a hammer. Streaming through the blinds, I feel it piercing my already pounding brain.
I can smell bacon cooking, and for a moment I'm transported back in time to a place where I'm safe and comfortable. My mother is cooking breakfast for me before school, and my father is sitting in his favorite recliner watching the morning news. From the outside, the scene looks picture perfect, and oh how I wish that was true. How I wish that my life had been a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting. But, it wasn't. Still, I don't want to open my eyes. I want to remain in my make believe world for just a few moments more.
"You're awake. Come eat something. It'll make you feel better," Reed says as he reaches a hand down to me. I take his hand and he pulls me up. The room feels uneven like I'm going to slide to the right. "Take it easy," he says softly as he puts his arm around my waist. The touch sends electricity through my body, and I never want the feeling to end.
He leads me into the kitchen and hands me some orange juice. I take a sip and start to feel better after a few minutes. He's quite the cook with bacon and eggs and biscuits ready for me to eat.
"I can't believe you did all this," I say looking at him incredulously.
"You do like breakfast, don't you?" he asks with a smile.
"Well, yes…"
"Then you need to eat. You had a rough night last night, so you need to start your day off a little bit better." He grabs a plate and loads it up with food, bringing it over to the table and pointing for me to sit down.
"I'm really sorry I upset you last night. I was just joking around, but obviously that's a touchy subject." I take a bite of my bacon, relishing the crunch of it. He cooks it just like my mother used to.
"It's no big deal. I overreacted really.
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