Lea
After having a fast shower and brushing my teeth with the toothbrush and paste that Brenda left for me in the bathroom yesterday night, I tip-toe back to the bed where the clothes lie, trying not to get the floor wet.
Unfortunately, I leave a trail of water droplets that fall from the tips of my waist-length blonde hair. When it’s wet, it turns a dark shade of brown and the strands stick together to make me look like a drowned rat.
Yet when it’s dry, the wavy strands present a mixture of chestnut brown hues with blonde highlights. I run my fingers through the wet fringe, pushing it away from my face to get a clear view of the clothes.
River’s girlfriend has expensive taste in fashion.
The white top is from Chanel , probably costing her a fortune despite its averageness.
The skinny denim jeans seem newly bought from
Armani and match the off-white trainers perfectly. As cringe-worthy as it is, seeing as I don’t have any underwear of my own, my mother had to borrow a few pairs from Brenda, who reassured her they were brand new.
Sighing at the situation, at how embarrassing it is to borrow underwear from someone else, I drop the towel from around my body and start to get dressed. Once I’ve finished, I look in the mirror of the dressing table and smile in satisfaction.
Everything fits just fine and the clothes look quite nice.
Quickly, taking into account the time that I read from the clock hanging above the bed, I tidy the guest room, neatly folding my clothes and placing them in the wardrobe, hanging the towel back in the bathroom and making the bed to how it was yesterday.
Heading towards the door, I take a deep breath, turn the golden handle, open the door, and walk across the landing towards the stairs.
Climbing down, I think of what to tell Marissa about this situation.
Yesterday, she knew that I would spend the night at Malcolm’s house, however, she doesn’t know whose dad he is.
Should I tell her?
When I reach the downstairs hallway, I stand a little lost in the spacious entrance, eyeing each door and corridor that trails away to another part of the house.
Well, there are ten doors and three corridors. Which one leads to the kitchen or dining room? I have no idea.
“This way, clumsy.” I only realise now that River has been walking behind me on the stairs, his steps completely silent.
He strides past me, walking through the corridor directly behind the stairs and I hurry to keep up with his fast pace.
Now that he’s dressed in tailored grey trousers and a blue-stripped shirt that clings to his upper body, my eyes can’t help but glue to his back, watching the way his muscles contract and relax antagonistically as he walks towards an open-plan dining room.
It’s the backs, boys’ backs are my weakness I swear.
Stop staring at his back, Lea. Creep.
“Good morning,” I smile, unwillingly tearing my eyes away from River and towards Malcolm, Brenda and my parents.
“Morning, did you sleep well?” Brenda asks through a smile that exposes her polished, white teeth.
“Yes, thank you,” I was about to mention how I slept like a baby, but with River in the same room, I gather as little information as possible would be better. I don’t want to get teased by him anymore.
Especially now since I know he has a girlfriend.
Who is she? I wonder.
River takes a seat at the dining table, closer to his parents, and I take the last available seat beside him, closer to mine.
As we simultaneously sit down, our arms brush against each other. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but the stupid butterflies are setting of miniature pieces of dynamite in my stomach.
I glance towards the variety of foods in the middle of the table in order to distract myself. Cereals, bread, butter, marmite, jam, orange juice, apples, bananas, and the lists go on.
Untangling my intertwined fingers in my lap, I reach my hand out for an apple, only to freeze immediately when River’s does the same thing. I move my hand back onto my lap instantly, sensing a heat wave overwhelming my cheeks.
To my surprise, River still grabs an apple only to place it on the empty plate in front of me, before getting one for himself.
Well isn’t that adorable?
Instantaneously, my heart beats a tiny bit faster.
He takes a large bite into his apple as mine is still standing on my plate – I don’t even want to touch it, afraid that it’ll disappear when I do and the whole gesture would just be a pigment of my imagination.
However, my stomach grumbles, as if on cue to my thoughts. Cautiously, I lift my hand and wrap my fingers around the red skin of the apple, holding it up to my mouth. I take a bite, finally convinced that the apple is real.
Thanks dickhead, the apple tastes great.
***
“I better get going, I’ll see you later.” He nods at both his parents and mine, before placing the core of the apple on his plate, pushing himself off of the chair and tucking it back under the table.
“River, you are taking Lea with you, aren’t you?” Malcolm questions, raising both his eyebrows expectantly.
No, please, God no. I don’t want to. No!
I imagine how awkward and heavy the silence would be around us his car; I wouldn’t be able to handle that. So, I shake my head at Malcolm.
“Oh no. It’s fine, seriously. I’d prefer to walk.” I say hesitantly.
“Don’t be silly, dear, you don’t know the way from our house.” Brenda dives in.
Ah, crap.
I am squeezing my hands together so tightly that I’m pretty sure the circulation to my fingers is cutting off. Please, I do not want to go.
“Yeah, I’ll take her.” River declares as if it’s no big deal to him.
It isn’t a big deal, Lea, you’re just a drama queen. Chill.
It’s just a simple ride to school, it’ll be fine.
“I’ll be in the car.” He tells me as he walks away from the dining room and through the corridor.
I watch him until he rounds the corner before turning to my parents and the Parker’s.
“Have a lovely day, thank you for breakfast,” I force a smile.
While they throw their goodbyes at me, I stand from my seat, leaving my half eaten apple on the white, clean plate, and push my chair back into its original place – tucked under the table. Brushing a ringlet of hair behind my ear, I follow the same suit as River.
Just as I’m about to head out the open front door , I catch a glimpse of myself in a large, round mirror hanging on one of the walls in the hallway, situated just before it.
Running my fingers through my damp hair that still makes me resemble a drowned rat, I frown at how unattractive I look.
Then, I shake my head and laugh at myself in disbelief. I’ve never cared about how I’ve looked before, never. I know I’ve inspected myself in the past to see my appearance, but never have I ever
cared.
***
The traffic lights ahead of us turn from green to orange, and finally red. River presses the breaks of his Mercedes convertible and the car immediately jerks to a stop, causing my body to heave forward but luckily it’s caught by the seat belt.
“Would you slow down? You were going seventy miles per hour on a forty road,” I say, glaring at his face that’s focusing directly forward at the car in front of him. One hand grips the steering wheel whilst the other is rested on the hand break, ready to press it down when the lights turn green.
“Is the good girl scared of a little fast driving?” He teases, pouting his lips in a mocking manner.
“Yes, I’m scared. But you’re not going to think I’m a good girl in a minute if you keep driving like a maniac!”
“Is that a threat?” He raises his eyebrows, facing me this time.
“Well done, Einstein.” I scorn.
“What are you going to do about it?” He asks smugly, never believing for a moment that I’ll do anything to him. “Are you going to hit me?” He leans a little closer to me. “Or maybe you’re going to do something that only a bad girl does.” He smirks.
I’m quite sure the butterfly’s in my stomach have taken ecstasy by the way there are fluttering.
“Pervert!” I shout, moving away from his capturing eyes. “Now move, the light’s green!”
He chuckles, “it’s a joke, chill out.”
His head turns back onto the road and he presses down on the gas and the car zooms through the streets so fast that the world outside the windows is blurred. I grasp the edges of my seat as the speedometer rises to seventy miles per hour, seventy-five, eighty.
“Okay, stop! Pull over! Now!” I yell, really pissed off.
The car slows and smoothly comes to halt beside the sidewalk and I undo my seat belt frantically.
“You’re a dickhead!” I say angrily, trying not to scream. I hate fasting driving, I don’t even want to think about the accidents that can happen because of it.
“You’re really that scared?” He asks.
“No, I’m just a damn good actress. What do you think?” I pull the handle of the passenger door, but it’s locked. “Open the door, River.” My words aren’t loud but are vexed.
“I’ll stop driving fast, you don’t need to get out.” He says, but I shake my head.
“I’ll prefer to walk. Please, open the door.” I tell him, sternly.
“One thing before you leave,” he fidgets in his seat until most of his upper body is facing mine. “You tell nobody about staying at my house. Okay?” He speaks patronisingly.
I wasn’t planning on saying anything, but when he says it like that, it sort of hurts. I don’t know why, but it hurts.
“I wasn’t planning on telling a soul.” And with that, I get out of his car and close the door behind me.
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