Chapter One
We pull into the driveway of the big, modern family-type house that I've come to love as my mothers house. Starting today, it's my house again too.
The house is just as beautiful as I remember. It has tall windows covering the front, almost like this house has no secrets and can be seen into from miles away. The picture perfect house showcasing a perfect family.
Only, that isn't the case. It's my first day back from spending the past two years with my father. My parents got in a divorce when I was twelve and I've been switching parents every two years since. I still visit the opposite parent of course, my family just isn't the same as it used to be but I've come to terms with it.
Life changes, it's just something that happens with time. It's an uncontrollable, unstoppable cycle that makes things better or worse but you could either be happy with life, or be miserable with existing. I chose option one.
My eyes search the house again, roaming over the structure I haven't seen in so long and never imagined I'd miss as much as I did.
I see the light brown, casual front door with two windows just as tall on either side. A front porch with three steps that lead to the porch swing on the right and a pretty flower pot hanging from the porch ceiling.
"You haven't changed anything," I state.
Mom looks over at me expectantly and I grin.
She's wondering how long it'll take me to want to go inside. My mother knows me better than anyone so she knows how sentimental I am.
Deciding I've had enough view on the outside, I grab Sadie and get out of the car.
Mom and I walk up the porch steps and I take a deep breath to prepare myself for what I'm about to see.
When we get inside it's just as I remember. The walls of the living room are painted a light yellow, brightening up the already illuminated room just a little more.
I don't take time to look at the rest of the house as I let go of Sadie's leash and run upstairs to see my empty room.
I haven't unpacked anything yet, it's all still out in the truck so the only thing I'm able to notice is that Laila, my sister, redid the wall color to be a dark blue.
"Emma, do you want to get dinner before we start on your bedroom?" Mom calls from downstairs and I grin for the second time, excited to explore the town I've spent so long away from.
It's only been two years but when you're away from what feels like home for that long, it feels like a century.
I let Sadie out to the fenced in backyard and mom and I climb into her white SUV.
After only fifteen minutes of driving, we pull up at Urban Stone Tavern.
"Remember this place?" Mom asks, voice sounding giddy.
This was my favorite place to go when I lived with her, they have the best cheeseburgers.
"How could I forget? I nearly die every time I eat here."
When we came here before, it was like a tradition that I'd always choke on something before the meal was over. It just happened a few times by coincidence so now it's kind of a thing with us and I just say it's because the food is so good.
It has nothing to do with the fact I just suck at normal life skills.
Sarcasm, that was sarcasm.
We walk inside and I recognize the smell. It smells like cooked beef and seasonings and my mouth begins to water at the thought of a cheeseburger.
Mom orders a chocolate shake and a side of onion rings and I order a cheeseburger with extra pickles.
The restaurant looks the same for the most part. A few tables have been switched around but there's still a salad bar placed strategically in the middle of the room surrounded by hanging lights and pictures of the original owners hanging behind the counter.
It's the steryotypical small town restaurant but I absolutely love it.
"Have you talked to dad lately?" I ask Mom curiously and she nods.
Even though my parents are in divorce, they still talk on a regular basis like old friends would. If I didn't know any better I might would think they'll get back together, but I do know better.
"Yea, I texted him while you were goggling over the house and told him we made it home safe."
The waitress brings us our food and I give her a thankful smile before she walks away.
"After we eat I'm thinking about getting a haircut."
Her statement surprises me and I look up from my plate of food to gape at her.
"You're cutting your hair?" I ask with disbelief and she nods.
My mother loves her hair more than she loves anything. The first thing I think of when my mind wanders to her is the love she has for her hair. She's proud of her gorgeous brown hair that falls to her waist in beautiful wavy locks.
I got my mothers hair, but somehow it's prettier on her than it is on me.
Everything about her is pretty. Her petite figure that stands just an inch over my five foot two. Her beautiful green eyes that shine like an emerald stone and her small, round nose that sits like a button in the center of her face.
"I'm in the mood to do something bizarre." She sits up straighter and shrugs, "Granted, I'll probable cry like a baby after it happens but I'm ready for a change."
I nod, "I guess I can understand that." I say simply, not wanting to encourage her because I'm certain she'll regret it later. But she'd look amazing no matter what she wore on her head.
We spend the rest of dinner catching up on things.
She tells me about how she talked to a college professor for a little while but then she found out he has an obsession with bugs so she cut that off quick.
That's another thing I got from my mom, fear of spiders.
Even though my mom and I talked on the phone at least every other day while I was with dad, it's nothing like having her back in front of me again. I didn't realize how much I missed her until I saw her at the airport and all I could do was grin and run up to my mommy like an eight year old.
Begin able to reach over and hug her wasn't an option over the phone and it's amazing to be able to wrap my arms around her if I need to.
When we're finished eating we make our way back to the car and after a short drive, she pulls into the barber shop parking lot.
I guess she was serious about the haircut.
I'm about to get out of the car when she grabs my arm to stop me, "You're going to get dog food for your dog and unless you want to keep your room a dark blue, grab some paint too."
She answers my mental question as she types in the store name into the GPS. I love how she understands my struggle of not knowing where everything is just yet. I lived here two years ago and even then I couldn't drive so I didn't try remembering where anything was. It's going to take some getting used to until I know my way around. But luckily, I have a trusted GPS to guide me through the small town.
Mom gets out of the car and gives me a nervous smile before pulling the door to the barber shop open and walking inside.
I quickly climb across the car and take place in the driver seat.
My favorite song comes on and I try to suppress the urge to become an irresponsible driver by dancing to a song.
If I can't dance, I can sing.
I turn the volume up to where the car is physically shaking and I decide that's a good enough volume for me to scream as loud as I want without being heard.
"WHY MEN GREAT 'TIL THEY GOTTA BE GREAT!" I scream and stop at the red light.
"DON'T TEXT ME TELL IT STRAIGHT TO MY FACE!" the light turns green and I press the gas.
Singing puts driving a car into another perspective.
If I'm driving while I casually hum along to the radio I feel like a mom with her arm resting on the console of the car while she yells at little Johnny to quit eating his boogers. But when I scream along with the radio, I feel like a teenage bad-bitch and that feeling is a lot more energetic and satisfying.
After the song ends, I pull into the parking lot and get out.
When I get inside the building the first thing I do is recognize just how big this store actually is. From the outside it doesn't seem that big, just like a normal grocery store. But from the inside I can see the store is nothing centered around the word 'small'. The back wall seems to go on for forever; the store isn't very long but the width makes up for the lost space.
I walk towards the back of the store where I see a giant sign that says 'pet' hanging above a number of aisles.
A small smile breaks out on my face at the simpleness of this mission and I begin walking towards the back until I find the bag of dog food that Sadie eats.
My eyes scan the shelves until I find that big maroon bag.
I take a deep breath and lift the bag, instantly being weighed down by it's weight. My arms feel weak for a short moment before I drop the big bag into the basket and let out the breath I forgot to release before.
When I get to the paint, it's a tough decision to decide what color I want my new room to be.
My last room was a light, vibrant shade of purple. That's the color I chose when I was fourteen but I feel like that's too childish of a color for me to have now.
Most of the colors are either too bright, or too dark for a bedroom. The neon orange reminds me of a street sign and the forest green makes me think of a dead tree.
I walk down the aisle, feeling the cool lids under my fingertips. My eyes land on a soft grey color and I click my tongue. It's a dull but pretty color that would match any of the furniture I were to throw at it.
After what seems like fifteen minutes of trying to decide if this is the color I want, I place the can in the basket.
As I walk to the checkout line I feel a sense of uneasiness. It's not the stomach virus kind of uneasy but the peculiar feeling of being watched.
My head spins, taking in my surrounding but I don't see anyone paying me any attention. I quicken my pace slightly and arrive at the checkout line within seconds.
"Good evening," the woman says emotionlessly at she scans the dog food and paint.
The intensity of my feeling becomes stronger as I slide my card through the slot.
There isn't anyone visibly watching me, plus I'm new to this town so it's not like anyone even knows I exist yet. Who would be stalking me already?
I give the woman a flat smile as she hands me my receipt. I quickly grab my basket and make my way out of the store.
I take long strides across the parking lot as I try to arrive at the safety of Mom's car.
Deep down, I'm sure this is all just my way of being the paranoid freak that I am but I can't shake this creepy feeling making it's way around my stomach.
It's said that you can sense it when someone is watching you. The feeling I have right now is telling me someone has their eyes on me and isn't even blinking. Maybe I'm just being dramatic but it's better to be paranoid than dead.
Suddenly, a firm grip wraps around my wrist and I gasp.
My head whips around to see the man who just grabbed me. He's tall with disheveled hair that seems to be missing the idea of shampoo and conditioner. His eyes are reddened like he hasn't slept in days and his face has a slight stubble. But the thing that draws in my attention the most is his mouth. He isn't smiling a friendly smile or getting ready to speak, his mouth is set in a hard line.
He stares at me, eyes focused on only me as if the rest of the world is merely an illusion around him.
"You're hurting me," I tell him, voice shaky as I try to pull from his grasp.
He has an iron grip that only tightens as I try to get away.
My fear intensifies as I realize I can't get free by simply pulling my arm.
"Let me go!" I say, rather loudly as I begin hitting him with my free hand but his face remains completely unfazed as my hand collides with his arm in small stings to my palm.
He shakes his head, seeming confused.
His tight hold on me loosens and I kick his shin. He groans out and grabs his leg, releasing me entirely.
Deciding it's best to not stick around and wait for the psycho to kill me, I forget about my bag of dog food and paint. I just want to get out of here.
Suddenly, I'm jerked back.
Fear is a funny thing. How there's different types of fear and some are more extreme than others.
The fear you get when you see ten missed calls from mom is a different feeling of fear than when you're startled by a jump scare from your favorite horror movie.
The type of fear I'm feeling right now describes neither of the two. It's a burning fire in my stomach that seems to grow the longer I stand here defenseless. I can't outfight him and I know it.
My eyes scan the parking lot and it seems emptier that it once was, nobody is here to help me.
I want to scream but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of scaring me so I keep my gaze focused heavily on his dark brown eyes. And then I spit in his face.
He gives me a disgusted look as he wipes my DNA off his skin.
The next few seconds happened so fast I barely understand what happened. All I know is that one second I was being held with an iron grip that's sure to leave a bruise, and then the disheveled man is knocked to the ground and a new man is standing in front of me.
"Are you okay?" he asks me, his voice full of concern.
The man rises to his feet, refusing to accept defeat but the strange new boy in front of me stands tall and I realize he was just leaning down to my height.
He's at least a foot taller than me.
The man takes a step closer. But I look into his eyes as he stares at the guy in front of me and I'm not scared anymore. He had me in the palm of his hands, he could've done anything to me but he didn't. He just held me and stared like I was the lost treasure he went across the ocean for.
The boy in front of me takes a small step to block the mans view of me before saying, "Try touching her again," he takes a step closer, completely fearless, "you'll be unconscious before you hit the concrete."
I look around the boys tall stature to see the man backing away slowly. He seems genuinely confused, like he wasn't there for the situation that he caused moments ago. All he can do is try to get another look at me, but the tall boy won't give him a peek.
When the man is across the parking lot, almost out of sight, the guy in front of me turns around and looks down to meet my eyes.
"Who was that?"
That's the crazy thing about all of this, I've never seen that man before in my life.
"I don't know," I tell him honestly.
He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and I notice just how beautiful he is.
His chocolate brown hair is pushed back in the front but not with gel, it's just naturally perked up. There are slight creases in his hair where you can tell he's been running his fingers through it.
He has broad shoulders that rise and fall as he sighs and soft satin grey eyes that seem to search my face for answers.
"What?" I ask him curiously.
His eyes go back to normal. They lose their sensitive, soft look as he asks simply, "Where'd you park?"
I gesture to the white SUV a few rows down and he walks over to grab the basket before walking me to the car.
"Thank you for uhm," I start, unable to find the words.
Saving me? Those words seem too heroic for a parking lot fight. But in a way he was my hero. Who knows what would've happened if he didn't show up when he did.
"You're welcome," he says and parks the basket at the trunk. He grabs the bag of dog food and his muscles flex under his tight navy blue shirt. He holds the bag easily, the same bag that I struggled with less than half an hour ago he was holding like it was nothing.
I suddenly become very aware with the truth in his words when he said you'll be unconscious before you hit the concrete.
There was no doubt in my mind that this boy in front of me wouldn't be able to knock someone out with a mere punch to the face.
I grab my keys from my back pocket and open the trunk for him to set the bag down.
"Thank you," I pause for a moment as I realize I've been thanking him a lot lately, "again."
I place the can of paint beside the dog food and close the trunk before turning around and facing him.
"I didn't catch your name," I tell him and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
"That's because I haven't said it yet."
Is he kidding? I let out a soft, fake laugh and he rolls his eyes before looking at me in disbelief. He catches the purposeful laugh I give him but he doesn't say anything about it as he gives me a small, but genuine, smile.
"I'm Trace,"
"Nice to meet you Trace. Sorry the way we met had to be so wild," I say and he laughs lightly.
"I don't know if I'd refer to that as a bad thing." he says, "I jumped in and saved your life. Even if we never see each other again I'm sure I won't be forgotten. That seems like a good first meet to me."
I roll my eyes, "I had it under control."
He chuckles, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweat pants, "A missing person's report is what you had ."
"Fine, whatever." I fold my arms across my chest and he gives me an amused grin.
A few moments of silence go by before I remember my mom is probably waiting for me to pick her up.
"I've got to go meet someone so I'll see you later." I walk to the drivers side of mom's car.
He turns to walk away, "Oh, and Trace?" I grab his attention back and he turns around.
"Yes?"
"I'm glad you were grocery shopping today." He laughs and shakes his head before walking away.
I start the engine and back out of the parking lot.
The radio stays silent on my way to the salon as I think about what all just happened.
I went to the store for simple reasons, I just wanted dog food and paint. What was a small trip to the store turned into an ambush by a stranger who refused to speak. A handsome boy came up and knocked the man to the ground before walking me to my car and telling me something I was already sure of:
I wouldn't be able to forget him.
Authors Note:
Hey guys! Thank you for choosing this story and if you enjoyed please don't forget to vote! Have a great day and stay safe!