Twisted (3 page)

Noah gives him a look.
“You're going to grow old and be one of those men with a beer gut if you keep
eating that way. Or else your arteries will clog and you'll die chasing down a
suspect,” he says dryly.

Tate pretends to look
affronted. “Hey, I eat healthy. Pizza has green peppers, tomato sauce, meat,
cheese, and all that other stuff that resemble vegetables. You've got a little
bit of almost each food group right there in one slice.”

“That shit doesn't count,”
Noah says, shaking his head as he rises to his feet. He picks up his now empty
plate and glances down at me. “We're glad to have you,
Blayre
.
Don't let his bad habits rub off on you,” he warns, a smile playing at the
corner of his lips before he turns and puts his plate in the dishwasher before
leaving the kitchen.

Tate stares after him. “Asshole,”
he mutters, but the hint of mirth on his face betrays the fact he clearly
enjoys the jabs they dish at one another. The argument clearly happens to be an
old one.

I fight back a grin. “How
long have you guys been living together?” I ask as I pick up my fork and cut
into the omelet. It is over flowing with diced vegetables, and what looks like
small squares of ham all mixed in with gooey cheese. I take a bite and find
that it is delicious. Not only is Noah good looking but he can cook as well.
The blonde from last night is one very lucky woman.

“We've been living together
about three years. Eat up, we have a full day ahead of us,” Tate says.

“What are we doing?”

“Well, we need to get you
enrolled at the local high school. You should really start tomorrow. You don't
want to end up too far behind.”

I nod as I chew because I
know he has a point.

“We also need to get you a
California license.”

“No point. I don't have a
car,” I say as I glance at my brother, who is leaning lazily against the island
counter, his arms crossed as he watches me eat.

“You will by the end of the
day.”

This has me pausing, my fork
halfway to my mouth. “What?”

“We need to get you something
so you can get around town on your own.”

“You are not getting me a
car,” I say firmly as I set my fork down.

“You are eighteen,
Blayre
.”

“So.”

“You're too old to be riding
the school bus.”

“I'll survive.” I'd had
to ride the bus back in Minnesota. It certainly wasn't fun but it was what it
was.

“It's not like I'm taking out
a loan or anything. It's just going to be a little “beater upper” until you can
afford to upgrade. I've got about three grand that you can use. It won't hurt
me financially,” he insists.

“I'm uncomfortable with the
idea of you buying me a car,” I say flatly as I push aside my plate, no longer
hungry. I have huge issues with taking anything from anybody—not that I'd ever
had any offers. But I am not about to take any hand-outs from Tate because I
want to do everything on my own.

I need to.

My brother sighs and moves to
rest his forearms on the island counter as he leans over and peers at me. “You
can pay me back eventually, alright?”

“I will be taking the bus.”

His green eyes narrow. “Let
me put it to you this way. One of us is coming home with a new car today. Now,
it can either be your choice, or I'll choose a car for you and I'll drive it
home myself later on before I go to work.”

I find myself rubbing my
temple because I'd forgotten how stubborn my brother could be. “Fine,” I say,
because I know he's not going to let up on the topic. “But I don't want
anything worth three grand. I'm sure we can find something around five
hundred.”

This earns me a scowl. “Over
my dead body. I said we were going to get you a “beater upper,” not a damn rust
bucket that will likely fall apart right beneath your ass while you drive it.”

“Let's just wait and see what
we find before you start assuming it'll cost you three grand.”

Tate studies me for a long
second. “Fine. Finish eating so we can get going. I need to be back by
three-thirty.”

“You think it's going to take
all morning and afternoon just to get a license and car?”

“We've got other errands
beside those. I'm grabbing a quick shower,” he says before he ambles out of the
kitchen.

Once I am all alone in the
kitchen, a loud sigh escapes me. I wasn't thrilled with accepting money from
Tate but it's not exactly like he's giving me much choice. It looks like I am
going to have to simply accept it and try to appreciate it until I can pay the
money back.

Later that afternoon, Tate
leads me into
Soloman's
Sports Bar and Grill. The
chilly air feels good on my skin as the pretty hostess smiles flirtatiously at
my brother while leading us past the lobby bar, and into the main dining area.

I find myself admiring the
sports themed restaurant. The main room has a large layout but yet divided into
three separate areas, giving the illusion of privacy. There are pool tables and
dart boards scattered here and there, and lots of sports memorabilia decorating
the blue walls. Flat screen TV's are located on each and every wall, but were
currently on mute as rock music played through the ceiling speakers on low,
still allowing for conversation.

We are led to a booth located
near a large window and we slide in. The hostess beams at my brother as she
hands us our menus and tells us a waitress will be back in a few to take our
order. I watch her leave and can't help but notice how her hips are swaying
much more than they need to be.

I glance at Tate to find he
has his nose in his menu, completely oblivious to her flirtatious antics. Or
else he'd noticed and didn't care. “I never asked, do you have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

I reach for my own menu. “Do
you want one?”

He peers at me from over the
top of his menu, his eyebrows lifting questioningly. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

“I just got out of a serious
relationship six months ago. I'm enjoying the single life,” he says with a
shrug.

“Oh. Sorry.” My eyes
drop to my menu as I scan it.

“You?”

My eyes lift. “Me what?”

“You leave a boyfriend back
in Minnesota?” he asks with interest as he sets his menu down.

“No,” I say as I go back to
my menu, not bothering to elaborate. I've never had a boyfriend and I've never
been kissed. I am as sheltered as a girl can be when it comes to the opposite
sex. It's not like I'd wanted it to be that way, but I'd been labeled a 'freak'
back in Minnesota because my aunt and uncle were considered to be a couple of
religious nuts. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be devout Christians, but
my aunt and uncle tended to be pushy with their beliefs and rarely did they
keep it to themselves.

A waitress approaches, saving
me from further questioning on the topic from Tate. We both order burgers and
fries. Once the waitress comes back with our large glasses of soda, Tate
relaxes in his side of the booth and smiles at me. “So, what do you think of
Cali?”

“I like it.”

He nods. “We'll pick your car
up on the way home and you can follow me.”

We found a really nice black Dodge
Intrepid for about two grand. The body still happens to be decent with only
minor rust. Most importantly, Tate still has a grand left over. “I'll get a job
and pay you back,” I add as I reach for my glass.

“Actually,” Tate says slowly,
“I want to talk to you about that.”

“I
am
paying you
back.”        

“Yeah, you've mentioned it
only ten times since we bought it. That's not what I want to talk to you
about.”

“Then spill,” I say as I take
a sip of my soda.

“I'd like you to wait on the
job. Just for a couple months.”

“Why?”

Tate studies me. “Well,
you're dealing with a new town, new home, new school. Give yourself a chance to
adjust before putting more pressure on yourself. Concentrate on school and
making friends.”

I try not to let my
exasperation show. “Tate, I am not going to break from the pressure of juggling
school and a job.”

“I know that,” he says,
leaning forward, his green eyes earnest now. “Look, I know how strict Julie and
Steve can be. It has to be a relief to be out on your own, so just enjoy it for
a bit before you start looking for a job.”

“If I don't get a job, I
can't pay for gas or other necessities I might need,” I point out.

“I'll give you a weekly
allowance.”

This has me crossing my arms and
glaring. “I am not a damned kid anymore, Tate.”

“I am well aware of that.
Look, you can keep track of every cent and pay me back, alright?”

“I can earn my keep.”

“
Blayre
,”
he fairly growls. “Can't I just
give
you something without you fighting
me on it?”

I really didn't want to keep
arguing with him. I know what he is doing and I should just be nice and let him
do it. He feels guilty for leaving me with Steve and Julie and now he is trying
to make it up to me in any way that he can. Helping me is important to him and
it is only for two months. Once those months are up, I'll get a job, pay him
back, and start saving for my own place for after graduation.

“Fine,” I grumble,
reluctantly giving in.

Tate grins with a hint of
triumph and before I can comment, our burgers arrive. We dig in and once our
hunger is satisfied, I lean back in my booth and watch Tate as he finishes off
the last of his fries.

“So, where are we off to
next?” I ask.

After wiping his mouth with a
napkin, Tate replies, “A cell phone is next on the list.”

Here we go again
. I push my empty plate aside and give him a look. “I
don't need a cell phone.”

He levels me with a look.
“It's non-negotiable,
Blayre
. I'm a cop. Bad shit
happens all the time. I'd feel more comfortable if you had a cell on you in the
evenings since I work until midnight. Besides, if you need anything while I am
at work, you can text Noah. He has his cell phone on him most of the time. It's
the best way to reach him.”

“Alright,” I agree with a
sigh.

“Great. You done?”

The next morning, I find
myself taking longer than normal as I get ready for my first day of school. I
can't help but study my reflection in the bathroom mirror. What would the other
students see when they looked at me? Would they simply see a pretty girl or
would they see the person that I see every time I look in the mirror? My eyes
roam over my face, taking in my fine features and my grayish-green eyes that
are dark with tension.

Would anyone want to be
friends with me? I've never had friends before because my aunt and uncle
wouldn't allow it. Not to mention there just hadn't been any free time in my
life to do what I wanted to do. All my free time was spent at their house,
doing their bidding. I'm not even sure if I could be a good friend to someone.
I've never been close with anyone except for Tate, and that was a long time
ago. I am pretty much used to being alone even when I am surrounded by people.

With a soft sigh, I run the
brush through my long dark hair and head downstairs. I'm as ready as I am ever
going to be since I never bother with makeup, plus I don't have any but for a
small tube of clear lip gloss. I make my way downstairs in my usual jeans, tank
top, and sneakers.

I realize I’m in desperate
need of new clothes. I've always lived in jeans and tanks or sweatshirts, but
unfortunately, I only brought two pairs of jeans; four tank tops, two bras, and
five pairs of panties. Whether I like it or not, I am going to have to use the
wad of cash that Tate handed me last night. He was insisting I put it towards
anything new that I would need. He’d apparently noted that I didn't even own a
pair of shorts. Or sandals. I had been okay with this when I left, but now...it
is dawning on me that my wardrobe is meager and pathetic.

When I reach the kitchen, I
see that Noah is either gone or he's still sleeping. My brother is at the
island counter, eating a bowl of cereal while he reads the paper in a pair of
sweats and a rumpled tee.

“Fruity Pebbles?” I muse as I
peer over his shoulder.

He grins boyishly at me.
“Best cereal there ever was.”

I just shake my head and walk
over to the refrigerator. I wasn't exactly nervous about my first day of
school, but anxiety is rolling through me in waves. Since my stomach happens to
be wound tight in knots, I opt for something light and grab an apple before
shutting the fridge door. When I turn around, I find Noah has entered the
kitchen, scratching his head as he fights back a yawn. He breaks into a wide
smile when his eyes drop and he spies the apple in my hand.

Tate glances behind him and
shakes his head at Noah. “It's an apple, dude. Don't get too excited.”

“An apple is a good start,”
Noah says as he walks over to a cupboard and pulls out a bowl. “Haven't you
ever heard the old saying, “An apple a day keeps the good doc away?
”

“I can't remember the last
time I had an apple and I'm as healthy as a horse,” Tate says after Noah turns
around to watch his lips for his reply.

“Isn't there also an old
saying about a horse
and
an ass?” Noah asks.

“You two are ridiculous,” I
say, shaking my head as I leave the kitchen.

“Hey, where you
going?” Tate shouts after me.

“To school, I'd rather get
there early than late!”

Even before I can make my way
inside the school, I can feel myself reverting back to my old ways. As I walk
along the sidewalk, there are students milling around, chatting and laughing,
as they wait for the dreaded first bell.

I want to hold my head high
but after years of trying not to be noticed, I begin folding in on myself. All
it takes is a group of catty girls walking by in tight mini-skirts and a few
snide comments tossed my way about my clothes—for me to begin to shut down.

It's not like I'm insecure.
I'm far from it. I have no problem saying what's on my mind and I know I am
ready to be the type of person that I
want
to be. I want to grab the
reins of my life like grabbing a bull by the horns, and just have a go at 'said
life' and see what happens.

It's just not that easy,
though.

After years of people
ignoring me, I'm adept at minding my own business and I am an old pro at fading
into the background. I find myself avoiding all eye contact as I walk up the
steps to the large high school. As soon as I walk through the glass double
doors, I wish I could walk right back out. Instead, I force myself to make my
way through the lobby, which is practically empty. Everyone is probably
determined to soak up as much sunlight before entering this prison for the next
several hours. I can't say I blame them. If this was any other day besides my
first, I'd be out there, too.

The office is easy to find
and I soon have my schedule clutched in my hands. I scan it, noting they'd put
me in many of the same classes I'd been in back in Minnesota. I figure the
first thing I should find is my locker. There's still about ten minutes before
school starts and I am betting I'm going to end up with a bunch of text books.
It'd be nice to drop them off between classes, versus lugging them around for
the day.    

My locker ends up on the
second floor and all the way back to the very last hall. By this time, the
halls are beginning to fill up and people are talking while locker doors are
slamming everywhere. People are bumping into me left and right as I head for my
locker, but no one really takes time out to introduce themselves or even
apologize for that matter.

I glance at my schedule and
double check my locker number. Five-one-one-one-eight. My locker turns out to
be the third to the last locker at the end of a dead end hallway. I'm mentally
kicking myself because I'm beginning to run out of time before the first bell
rings. My luck always sucks and I should have known the locker would be in the
last place I’d look.

A blonde girl rushes past me,
bumping into my shoulder as she scurries up to the locker next to mine. She
glances at me apologetically. “Sorry! Hey, you
new
?”
she asks as she turns away and spins the dial on her locker.

“Yeah.”

She pauses, reaches out and
grabs my schedule out of my hand and scans it. Then she hands it back to me.
“You're all the way on the first floor, take two rights, one left, and your
class is third door on the right. You better run.”

“Thanks,” I say gratefully as
I grab my schedule and dart off into the crowd.

I am late to my first class.
Of course this means that I get to stand in front of the class, explain to the
teacher that I am new, and wait for him to get me a text book out of the
cupboard—all while everyone in the class stares at me. To make matters worse,
when he hands me the large Government book, I fumble it and drop it. I quickly
bend down and grab it before making my way to the back of the class to an empty
desk while a few students snicker. I sink down into my seat and mentally curse
myself. This wasn't exactly going like I'd envisioned. I mean, it's not as if
want to be popular and I'm not even sure about the friend thing...

I was just expecting
something else.

What? Who knows? I just
thought things would be different but in reality things are going just like
they had in Minnesota, and I feel like I am slowly suffocating. Instead of
dwelling on the past, I force myself to push aside my dreary thoughts and focus
on the lecture the teacher is beginning on urbanization.

By lunch time, I am feeling
light headed and wishing I would have eaten more than just an apple earlier
that morning. I've also come to realize that I haven't brought any money with
me, which means I have no way to pay for lunch.

Wait—
seriously?

I pause in front of my locker
to find the pretty blonde who'd helped me out earlier, was pressed against it
with some guy's tongue down her throat. I touch my temple as I try to calm down
before I do something stupid, like unleash my rising temper at the only girl
who'd spoken to me today. This day has been a major letdown. Now I have to
either break up this little dueling tongue fest or just forget about dumping my
books and head towards the library for lunch. At least that was one perk of
going to school. I had full access to books I could lose myself in when I wanted
a break from reality.

My eyes narrow as I glance at
the couple again. They show no signs of breaking their kiss any time soon.

I'm done.

When my light tap on the
guy's shoulder does absolutely nothing, I clear my throat loudly—only to have
that ignored as well. Okay, there were times when I wanted to be ignored and
there were times when I definitely did not. “Can you two suck face against
someone else's locker?” I ask loudly.

Finally, the guy breaks away
from the blonde’s mouth and peers at me through his longish dark brown hair.
His hazel eyes narrow on me and he's clearly annoyed I'd interrupted them. “Who
are you?”

“She's the new girl and we're
blocking her locker.” The blonde flattens her hand on his chest and pushes him
away from her. “Sorry,” she says to me before she grabs the guy's hand and
pulls him down the hallway before disappearing into the crowd.

With a shake of my head, I
turn to my locker and spin the dial. When would this day end?

 If I thought school was
bad, navigating the local mall is worse. Whether I like it or not, I was in
dire need of some new clothes. I'd stopped by a pay phone in the school lobby
to study the city map, and memorized the way to the mall in hopes of expanding
my wardrobe. In all the books I've ever read, most girls enjoy going to the
mall and spending money. I guess I'd enjoy it a little more if it was my own
money in my pocket and not Tate's.  As I said before, I'm not real
thrilled to have to take money from him. I've taken enough from him already, it
just doesn't seem right to spend his money as well.

As I walk through the busy
mall, I fight back a frown. A few stores looked promising but the prices had
been kind of high when I entered them and began to browse. I am determined to spend
only what I have to and that means buying only what I feel is necessary. It
also means sticking to my preferred price range, which evidently is
non-existent here at the mall. All I want is some cheap shorts and some new
tanks. I wasn't big on shorts but in California I was finding I didn't have
much of a choice. I'd also learned on the way here that the
Intrepid's
air conditioning only worked on 'low.'  I'd been a sweaty mess by the time
I'd walked into the mall earlier.

After an hour of wandering
around, I find myself seriously starving and really in need of food before I
pass out from hunger. I catch sight of a small little bakery up ahead and make
a bee-line for it. I'm more than willing to splurge on a gooey cinnamon roll
because my stomach is down-right demanding it.

As I enter the little bakery,
I see that there are about four booths lining a windowed wall so that the
patrons can watch shoppers as they walk by. Connected to the display case up
front is a long counter that runs the expanse of the short room with stools in
front of it. There are two people in a back booth and other than that, the
brightly lit bakery is mostly empty. It is pretty small and the décor is less
than appealing. Whoever decorated the interior had opted for white walls and orange
booths and accents. Very 'blah' if you ask me. And the florescent lights...they
practically blind you after the soft lighting in the mall corridor. No wonder
the bakery was lacking in patrons.

As I make my way to the front
counter where the huge display case is filled with yummy goodies, I decide the
tempting sweets more than make up for the lousy color scheme of the bakery.

“Can I help you?”

It's the blonde from school
today, the one who'd been making out against my locker. Her long hair is pulled
back in a sleek ponytail and she's wearing a black apron over an orange
tee-shirt. Her name tag says 'Paige.' The blonde—aka Paige—recognizes me as
well and grins mischievously. “If it isn't the new girl. Did you track me down
to give me a piece of your mind for
sucking face
at your locker today?”

She seems genuinely friendly
and the sparkle in her clear blue eyes is teasing, so I give in and laugh. “I
hate to disappoint but this is just pure coincidence. My stomach led me here.”

Paige motions to the case she
is standing behind. “I have plenty to offer your sweet tooth.”

“I'll take one of those large
cinnamon rolls in the back, please.”

“Anything to drink?”

“Water.”

“Sure, here or to go?” Paige
asks as she slips on a pair of plastic gloves.

“Here is fine.”

I watch as Paige grabs a
cinnamon roll that has layers upon layers of sweet gooey white frosting. She
sets it on the plate, pulls off her gloves, and turns away to grab me a fork
and my cup of water. After I pay her, I make my way to a stool at the counter
and sit down.

Paige follows me and leans
against her side of the counter, her blue gaze curious. “Not in the mood for
shopping?”