~ I really hope IPurple reads this, and likes it, and gives me a shout out! It would mean a lot.
Also, I hope people start leaving comments. It will get better, promise.~
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Dakota Aniston
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
One thing is for certain, I didn’t want to leave Phoenix. Not really, anyway. I grew up here, I know it here, and I’m comfortable here. Everything that I am is here. That’s one reason I’m so against high school actually ending after next year, because I have nothing if I’m not here. Stacey will be leaving after senior year; going away to some fancy college, given her parents can actually afford it. But, me? I’m afraid there’s nothing for me, I’m stuck here. In Phoenix, and I’m not sure exactly how I feel about that. Sure, I wanted to go to college too, but I’m not. There’s no way I can get there. Unless, I magically higher my GPA, and somehow, if I was gifted with a miracle, be offered a scholarship to somewhere far away. Maybe, I could start new, become a different person. I could stop worrying about what everyone thought about me, stop wondering if Stacey would ever get tired of me, and kick me to the curb. Because, without Stacey, who was I really?
She’s the one who practically made me who I am today. I still remember coming into freshman year, and meeting her. The first thing I noticed was how confident she walked in, like she’s been here for years, but she was new to this high school, just like every other freshman. But, still, she smiled, and walked with smugness, her perfect shaped nose raised in the air as though nothing could touch her, nothing could hurt her. She was strong, brave; I wasn’t. I was weak, feeble, and afraid.
You see, I wasn’t popular in elementary or middle school, I passed by unnoticed. I was tired of being the girl that always fell behind, and I was tired of watching from sidelines, being alone on weekends, eating lunch alone, and I was especially tired of just being ignored. I didn’t want to be ignored anymore, I wanted to be worshiped. I wanted people to want me. I wanted to be the one other’s admired, and I wanted to be the one other’s wanted to be.
I was tired of being me.
So, when Stacey talked to me that day in gym class, and asked me if I was interested in trying out for the cheerleading squad, I didn’t think, I atomically said yes. But, that was stupid, because I didn’t even like cheerleading. But, I did it anyway. We started hanging out, and we practiced for weeks upon weeks for tryouts, but I didn’t mind, because I finally had a friend. And then, with pure luck, I made the team. I let Stacey change me. She pulled me into her group of friends, and I started going to all the parties late at night, letting my grades slip, just because I was finally noticed. And boys, they wanted me. Just too hook up, but still, they wanted me. And I would take anything instead of nothing.
“Where are you going?” My mom asked, looking up from the book she was reading. She was seated at the kitchen table, her reading classes perched on the bridge of her nose, and a cup of steaming coffee in front of her.
“Over to that new bar opening up.” I answered, and grabbed my car keys off the hook by the front door. “I got a job.”
Mom smiled. “That’s great, honey. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” It didn’t feel as good as I thought it would, her being proud of me. I still felt just as empty as though some part of me was forever missing.
She set down her book, and let out a soft sigh. She sounded tired. “Be careful driving. Are you coming home straight after?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll see you later.” I opened the front door, and called out, “Tell dad I said bye!” Before letting the door close behind me, and slipping into my Sliver BMW.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Another thing was certain; Elijah Astor was hot, especially when playing guitar. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans, and a black V-neck shirt. His dark hair was flopped down in front of his eyebrows, and he looked so, peaceful. His fingers strummed expertly over the guitar, mixing in with the rest of his band. He was standing in front of a microphone, and his eyes were closed, and he was singing. I didn’t know what, but it was beautiful. His voice sounded angelic, and clear, but deep and raspy, and I found myself drawing near to the stage just to listen to him.
Bad idea. The heavy door slammed shut behind me, rocketing throughout the dimly lit space. The music stopped, and everyone’s head snapped to my direction. Everyone that is expect, Elijah.
A boy I vaguely recognized from my history class paused, his drum sticks mid-air. His eyebrows rose. “Dakota Aniston?”
I blushed under the intense gazes of everyone. I looked down, letting my hair curtain my face. “Yes. Um, sorry for interrupting.”
Someone scoffed. My eyes snapped over to a boy playing a bass guitar. He was glaring at me, his eyes dark, and I wondered what I have ever done to him to deserve a look so cold. “Dakota is actually apologizing? Who knew she had a heart?” And he let out a humorless laugh, and I felt my stomach lurch. I hated being disliked.
“Luke, shut up.” Elijah said, and I looked toward him. His hands were wrapped around the top of the microphone, and he was gazing down at me. I felt unusually small all the way down here. “What are you doing here?” He asked me.
I scowled. No matter how much I didn’t enjoy being disliked, Elijah and I were mutual; we couldn’t stand each other. “I’m here to work.”
“I didn’t know you were actually serious.”
My scowl deepened. Shifting on my hip, I tap my foot impatiently, the click of my flip flop slightly loud in the quiet room. “Well, I was. Can I have the damn job or not?”
Elijah looked amused, which only pissed me off further. Setting down his guitar, he jumped down from the stage. “You do realize you’re not old enough to work in a bar, right?”
“I’m seventeen.” I defended, and like a child, stomped my foot.
His mouth quirked up at the corner. He swipes his hand over his mouth, hiding his smile. “You have to be at least eighteen to serve alcohol.”
Okay, seriously? I know he hates me, but can’t he cut me a break? I really need this job, and frankly, I don’t have time for his games. His dad owns this bar, he could pull some strings. I roll my eyes, and step closer to him. Peering up at him, I say, “I don’t care. I’ll serve food, strip on stage, anything!”
This seemed to spark his interest. He closed some of the remaining distance between us until he was close enough to touch. His head dunked down lower in order to look me in the eye and a smirk was plastered on his mouth. “Strip on stage? As in no clothes? At all?”
For a quiet boy, he sure was stepping over some dangerous boundaries right now. And for someone that was so in love with Stacey, he was defiantly saying something that sounded like flirting. But, I’m positive he was mocking me and most likely showing off to his friends. “If that’s what you want.” I said.
He chuckled. “Well, sorry, it isn’t that kind of bar.” Then, he turned away from me and walked back up on stage.
The boy on the drums raised his hand above his head. “Hey, Dakota, you can still strip for me if you want.”
I just stared at him, my eyes narrowed. Slowly, his hand fell back down. “Or not,” He sighed, and lightly tapped his drum sticks against the drum.
“Don’t worry about it, Tommy,” Luke said, and watched me. “We’re not good enough for her.”
My blood boiled, a coral blush sprung to my face. How dare he accuse me like that? He doesn’t even know me! Well, I have news for him! My mouth opened to say something back, but nothing came out. This was weird, for I had a lot to say to him, but somehow my mouth wouldn’t form the words. Luke gave me a satisfied smirk. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I looked away, and climbed up onto stage. Gripping the back of Elijah’s shirt, I dragged him backstage, the burgundy curtain closing behind us.
He let out a frustrated sigh, and shook off my hold. “What do you want?”
“A job.”
“I can’t give you on.” He turned, and moved for the stage.
I grabbed the back of his shirt again. “Eli, please.” I whispered.
He stopped. Turning to me, he was suddenly right in front of me. “I don’t understand why you could possibly need a job. Aren’t you filthy rich?”
I glared up at him, and my lips curved down in a frown. I shrugged, looking to the side, and avoiding his gaze. “Can I have a job or what?”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Twenty minutes later, I was dressed in the uniform. A pair of black shorts, and a tight fitting black t-shirt, and a cute apron wrapped around my waist. My hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and I was standing behind the bar, leaning against it.
Brain, Elijah’s dad, smiled at me. He looked a lot like Elijah, only aged around the edges. Expect for the fact that he was actually nice to me. “Dakota, I’m pulling strings here.” He said, serious, but he still held the hint of a smile. “You’re not supposed to be behind the bar, but we won’t tell anyone, okay?”
I grinned and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Call me Brian.” He wags a finger at me.
I laugh lightly. “Yes, Brian.”
His smile deepens, and I notice that his eyes crinkle in the corners when he does. “Can I trust you?”
I playfully wave a dismissive hand, shooing him off. “Of course, Brian!”
“Good. We’ll I have to get ready for opening night,” He knocks his knuckles against the bar’s surface, “I’m trusting you, Dakota!” He called before walking into a small office in the back.
“Seems like my dad likes you.”
Looking up, I see Elijah leaning across the bar. I suddenly felt self-conscious. Elijah was staring at me, his eyes dragging past my face, and lingering on my eyes. Everything about Elijah was dark, from his hair to his clothes. The only thing light about him was his eyes. They were a mysterious gray, and they seemed to hold the darkest secrets. “Yeah, well most people do.”
Elijah rolled his eyes. “So,” I said, and crossed my arms against the counter. “Stacey said she will be stopping by tonight,”
“You do realize she’s not old enough to get in, right?” But, I saw his eyes brighten and his ears turn pick at the sound of her name.
I give him a flat look. “You obviously don’t her at all.”
He winks. “That’s why I’m dating you.”
I ignored the warmth that seeped through me at his words. “You mean, pretending. You’re pretending to date me.”
He shrugged. I continued, “And anyway, I might have mentioned you, so she’s bringing a date.”
His dark eyebrows rose. “The boy across the street?” I nodded. He grinned impishly, and leaned forward again. “That bothers you.”
I scowl. “It doesn’t matter.”
Eli chuckled low under his breath, gently shaking his head. “Why are you stressing yourself over this? Any guy would jump at the chance to go out with you.” He said, and turned around, his back facing me, as he bent down behind the bar, fixing the glasses and bottles of alcohol.
“Would you?”
I wanted to know. Every boy at school tried getting with me, minus him. It drove me crazy; I wasn’t used to it. When we first became biology partners, I expected flirting, but no, nothing. I hated how it seemed he knew exactly who he was, and he had everything figured out. How was it so easy for him?
Eli laughed. Actually, laughed. My face flushed in embarrassment. “But, I’m already dating you, remember?”