Hello, dear Readers!!!!
Good Morning, and a happy Thursday to you all.
This is my first post as a Random rambler (yay!) and I must admit, I’m a little nervous. I usually keep my rambling away from you all so that you won’t think I’m too crazy, but hey, what the heck. Its a new day, and I’m sick of not talking to you guys, so, I invented this (RROACRA) as a nice place for us to chat about stuff, gossip, read some of my possible story manuscript to see if we should move forward of dump it (lol), and read snippets of upcoming stories.
I’m so excited about this! I can’t even contain it. Lol. But I must, because I want us to get started off with a bang this week.
Not much babble this week, more of a question. A Write it or Dump it week!!!!
I have a little something something I’m a little hesitant to write. Why? You may ask. Well, its the age old triangle storyline. A hot, but “done before” love triangle, with a rocker in it at that! So …. yeah. Of course I add my little spin to things, as I do. Just as I put my own spin on the Mafia world.
Any way, The girl is the Daughter of a politician. She’s in the spot light, and trying to gain her freedom by going to a college out of her home state.
Without further ado … check it out. (You know, if you got some time to kill)
(c) 2017 Michelle Hardin
What did it mean to forgive someone?
Was it basically giving them a pass for wronging you? For hurting you? Was it putting yourself aside, your feelings aside, your hurt … all so you can make the one who ruined you, feel better about their mistake?
How was that even possible? How could anyone manage to do such a thing? To let it go? To really forgive. To forget the betrayal that poisoned your relationship. To forget that this person, this liar had been so careless as to taint what was once so pure. So beautiful.
How can you move on?
In my opinion, no matter what you say, you never do.
I’m not saying that it’s impossible for one person to eventually forgive another; I’m merely saying that when someone asks a person for forgiveness, and that person looks them in the eyes and says, ‘I forgive you’, before they’ve taken the necessary time needed to heal… They’re lying.
I was lying.
We’d been driving for what felt like an eternity, and all I’d been asking myself the entire ride was, ‘Am I making a huge mistake?’.
My boyfriend, Wes, and I were leaving our home state of Washington, and headed for the little college town of Holland Ville, Utah. We had been driving for fifteen whole hours, but I could have sworn that it’d been much longer than that. It felt more like we were traveling on an endless road of tense silence, and chronic boredom. Like the road was magically extending for the sole purpose of prolonging this awkward trip, of punishing us to an extended period of painful silence, and quick, but horribly uncomfortable glances.
It was very … different for us, and I was beginning to regret our decision against taking a plane. At least on a plane it wouldn’t have been just the two of us. The silence would have been more comfortable, more bearable if others were around to share it with.
Wes was annoyingly stiff, strained even. And I wasn’t much better than he with my refusal to say a word to him. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him because, honestly, at this point, I’d do anything to make this trip less … awful. It was just that, I wasn’t feeling like myself. I felt jumpier than usual. I wasn’t certain if it was fear, anticipation, or maybe even dread that was making me feel like this, but what I did know was that I couldn’t shake it. Even though I’d been trying too for the better half of the trip.
I’d thought that maybe it was because of the move. Transferring to another college had my nerves on edge. Reconnecting with old friends, having to make new ones, and moving into a new dorm with God only knew who as my roommate. That was a lot to deal with on top of everything else that was going on in my life. Who wouldn’t be a bit overwhelmed by such a large amount of change at one time … Right?
Unfortunately, diagnosing my sudden ‘jumpiness’ was not as simple as all that. My issues seemed to be a bit more complicated. After really thinking it over, I’d realized that it wasn’t just the trip at all. I wasn’t nervous about moving someplace new. That was actually the only thing I was looking forward to. New school, new friends, old friends, and being thousands of miles away from my parents did not cause me anything even resembling anxiety. Not even in thought. Sadly, the source of my anxiety was currently sitting right next to me, blue eyes steady on the road ahead, and a strained expression on his ridiculously handsome face. I was nervous because we were now only three hours away from our destination … or what Wes was calling, our ‘fresh start’.
And frankly, those words scared me because, I had no idea what the hell they meant.
To me, a fresh start meant he and I separating, beginning a new life apart from one another, trying to figure out who we were, what we wanted.
But, no. Apparently, I’d been wrong about that.
After a very emotional, hour long yelling match with my beloved boyfriend, I had come to understand that a ‘fresh start’ meant me granting him forgiveness for a year’s worth of transgressions. A year’s worth of blatant, unabashed betrayal. Or in simpler words, Wes cheated on me. Numerous times. With a nice handful of sorority girls, and I … was currently suffering in silence. My mouth said ‘I forgive you’ to him, but my heart …
Well, let’s just say my heart was not in full agreement with that.
When my eyes lifted from the floor where they’d unknowingly fallen in thought, they were met with the concerned blue eyes of the man that still had my heart— even though he no longer deserved it— and I gave him a soft smile.
“I’m fine, Wes,” I whispered, reaching over to grab his free hand.
It was a small gesture, one more so for myself than for him, even though I knew he’d liked it. I hadn’t wanted him to doubt that I was ‘fine’ even though I wasn’t. Even though I was uncomfortable. So, I smiled at him. A trade I learned from my mother. So many times, I saw her smile at my father, even though it was more than obvious that she was far from happy.
Wes gripped my hand tightly, as if he were expecting me to pull it away from him at any moment. And I suppose, his worry was warranted. I’d been pushing him away a lot lately, refusing to let him touch me in my ever present, bitter rage. Though it was silent, it was still there. But in my defense, he deserved it.
“Are you hungry?”
Wes’s abrupt question startled me a bit, only because I had expected him to break the silence. I turned my head in his direction right as he took his eyes from the road, and looked over to me for a moment.
“Hungry?” I asked, a bit confused. From the looks of it we were still on a highway in the middle of nowhere. Unless he was planning on pulling the car over to hunt for some food, I was pretty sure we were shit out of luck on getting anything for the next hour or so.
“The towns coming up soon …”
My brows rose.
I looked around, once again noting the open highway ahead of us. I didn’t see anything, but with a mental shrug I just let my curiosity go. Wes had traveled this rode many times before, so I assumed he knew what he was talking about.
We were almost to Holland. Just at the thought of this trip coming to an end I could feel myself perking up.
“We can grab something before we head to the hotel if you want.”
“Are you saying we’re almost there?” I asked, trying my best not to relay my relief too much at the possibility.
Of course, I failed at that.
Laughing softly at my relief, he turned his eyes back to the road ahead. “You sound relieved.”
Deciding to forgo denial and explanation, I nodded sheepishly to his observation.
I’ve never been any good at hiding my emotions, or lying for that matter. Wes had always told me that. He’d always said that it was my voice that gave me away.
“Aren’t you?” I asked, shifting in my seat to face him. “We’ve been driving for hours …”
Hours upon hours of the worst awkwardness imaginable, and I was more than ready for it to end. But Wes, on the other hand, seemed to feel a bit differently.
He just shrugged. So cool and calm, just as he always was. And even better than I at hiding his discomfort.
“I don’t know about you,” he replied, the small dimple in his cheek indenting when he flashed a small, crooked smile, “but I’ve enjoyed our ride, Skyla Anne …”
I didn’t like it, but he made me smile. He always made me smile when he called me Skyla Anne.
I knew he was telling a lie. He’d hated the ride just as much as I had, but leave it to Wesley Christianson to be too much of a gentleman to admit it. “You’re lying,” I said softly, a gentle giggle in my voice. “You’ve barely said a word to me since we left Washington.”
He glanced over at me, his brows furrowing a bit before returning his eyes to the road. “I haven’t been that bad, have I?”
Yes, he had been. We’d both been.
Looking away from him, I shook my head in response. “No …” I lied with a small shrug of my shoulder, “I guess not.”
“You’re lying,” he replied immediately after, then he gave my hand a squeeze. “We can’t even ride in a car together right, can we?”
I lowered my eyes in response to his question, wisely choosing not to answer it. I didn’t want to fight, and it seemed lately that every one of our conversations always became just that. A fight. Although, I was admittedly still struggling to let go of what Wes had done to me, I wanted us to fix our relationship. I didn’t know what I’d do if I ever lost Wes. We’d been together for so long, I was pretty sure that I didn’t know how to be without him.
Wes and I had grown up together. We were both born in Seattle Washington, he a year before I, and our families had been neighbors since we were kids. Since I could remember, I had always had the biggest crush on him, as did every girl at Seattle Prep where we attended school. All the girls wanted to marry the All-American, boyishly sexy, football star, Wesley Christianson.
Unrealistically good looking was the perfect way to describe Wes. Not too tall, but tall enough to tower over many; lean, muscular build, with stunning facial features, flawless, perfectly tanned skin, golden blonde hair that was always trimmed to perfection, never one strand out of place, all topped off with the most stunning pair of pale blue eyes.
He was absolute perfection, and much to the surprise of everyone back in our home town, he fell in love with me. The nerd girl.
Wes chose me when he could have had any girl he wanted. He took my hand, led me out of my shy shell and transformed me into the Skyla Anne Mason that he wanted me to be. I was barely seen before I became Wesley Christianson’s girlfriend. I had only been his lonely, invisible neighbor. The nerdy, prudish, 5’5, scrawny girl next door, with big glasses and the perfect grade point average. I had a ton of acne, blemishing my dark, mocha brown skin, and I had worn the same hair style every day. A big puffy pony tail. Very plain, and very sad.
Even though our parents’ had always been such good friends, Wes had never really paid much attention to me when we were younger. He barely spared me a glance unless his parents told him to say hi, or he was trying to get me to give a note to my, prettier, older sister. It hadn’t been until a week before my first high school dance that he’d actually spoken to me directly for the first time. We had been having an after church Sunday brunch with the Christianson family, as we did every Sunday, when Wes had stood up from the table and formally asked to escort me to a dance that I hadn’t even planned on going to. I had hesitated to accept, because I wasn’t stupid, I knew it was an invitation prompted by his parents, but after few evil looks from my mother, I timidly agreed to go.
The rest was history from there. Wes and I had surprisingly hit it off pretty quickly once he’d actually taken a second to talk to me. He even confessed that his parents’ had agreed to buy him a car for his sixteenth birthday if he took me to the dance, then he begged me for forgiveness and a second date, after I refused to speak to him days after that. He still got the car on his sixteenth birthday— a silver ford Mustang— but he’d made sure I was the first person he took for a ride in it. It was the night he’d told me he loved me for the first time.
After a couple more hours of driving, we’d finally made it to the busy town of Holland Ville just as the sun was beginning to set. It was gorgeous, well groomed, and very active. But that was to be expected. Holland Ville was a college town. A few universities and colleges were nearby so the place was packed with students, out, looking for excitement and fun on a Friday night. I couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement as I looked around, seeing the mass of young people walking the sidewalks. It was a dream come true, finally being in Holland. I could hardly wait to get to campus, and finally be reunited with my best friends’ after all this time. Just the thought of seeing them had me pulling out my cell to send Becca the all caps ‘I’M HERE’ text I’d been waiting to send for a year.
We decided to forgo fast food, since we were both beyond tired of the taste of it, and we settled on a bar that Wes frequented named Rickster’s. I was intimidated by just the sight of the place. So many people were going in, I didn’t even have to be inside to know it would be packed. Wes assured me that I’d love it though. It was the number one weekend hot spot, popular because of the food, space, service, and live music. I thought it was a bit much for my first night in Holland, but Wes seemed so excited about introducing me to the place, I didn’t want to damper his mood. I was happy that he was finally lightening up. He looked more like the Wes I knew before all of the relationship drama began.
“I’m going to grab my wallet from the trunk, babe. You need anything?”
I nodded my head and leaned over to give him a kiss before he exited the car. “My sweater, please.” Although it was warm out, I felt more comfortable with my sweater on. For the drive I had worn a plain white tank, a pair of khaki shorts, and some white sneakers. It was a comfortable outfit, but a little too revealing for me to feel comfortable in a packed bar without something to cover me up a bit.
While I waited for Wes to grab our stuff, I went ahead and attempted to make myself look presentable. Lowering the mirror, I stared at my reflection. I had no make-up on, but in all honesty, I really didn’t need it. I was just one of those girls. I had an awkward stage when I was younger, but puberty had surprisingly done me very well. My once scrawny body was now full, soft, and curvy. My skin was blemish free, making my smooth dark mocha tone that much more eye-catching in contrast to my dark brown eyes, and my hair was no longer a 1970’s puff ball; it was now a thick, gorgeously straight mass of hair that fell a little past my shoulders. I ran my fingers through it, checking for tangles and flipping the front to the right side as I always did, right as Wes opened my door with my sweater in hand.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yep.” I stood up from the car and took my large white sweater from him.
After quickly putting it on, I adjusted it so that it wouldn’t cover my shorts. Wes was changing his shirt too. He removed the Holland University t-shirt he’d been wearing the entire trip and replaced it with a blue plaid button down shirt that I loved. It matched his eyes perfectly. I allowed myself to catch a glimpse of his bare chest as he button his shirt, making sure to let my eyes linger on the thin trail of dusty blond hair leading into his dark blue jeans. I inhaled a deep breath, feeling my body warming just at the sight. I was suddenly becoming aware of how long it’d been since Wes and I had last been intimate. So many times during this trip I’d wanted to, but I hadn’t known how to … initiate it. I missed the way we used to be. I missed him. Before all of the drama, Wes and I had barely been able to keep our hands off of one another. We were so passionate, so in love, but now, it’d been months and he’d barely touched me. We’d both been pretty bad in that department. It was as if we didn’t know how to be with each other intimately anymore. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him, because I did, all of the time; it was just now that I knew he’d been with women other than me, women that were possibly more experienced, my confidence was shot.
I quickly brought my eyes to his then looked away, knowing he’d just caught me staring at him like a total horn dog. My cheeks warmed in embarrassment. “Yes” I whispered, giving him my hand. “Let’s go …”
The short walk to the bar entrance was awkward and quiet, and I hated it. This wasn’t … us. It wasn’t like Wes to pass up an opportunity to tease me mercilessly. He’d just caught me staring at his package for God’s sake! By the time we neared the door I had thoroughly lost all hope that my relationship would ever not be awkward … then something unexpected happened.
Abruptly, Wes jerked me in front of him, making me gasp. “Wesley!” I squealed. He turned me to face him, then backed me up until I was against the cold brick building. “Wes, what are you—“
He kissed me … hard. The kiss brought me to my toes as I threw my arms around his neck, clinging to him, needing to be closer. God, it was a really good kiss. I had forgotten how good it felt to be kissed like this. Wes’s tongue expertly caressed my mouth until I was moaning, feeling every nerve in my body simultaneously come to life. He gripped my behind with both hands prompting me to hold on tightly to him as he lifted me from the ground, then wrapped my legs around his waist.
I cupped the back of his head and pretty much attacked him after that. I couldn’t resist it. My whole body felt as if it were on fire. I missed this. I missed Wes. I missed the way he touched me, the way he made love to me, the way he used to act as if he couldn’t get enough of me. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to skip out on dinner and hit a hotel for the rest of the night, but of course—with my bad luck— interruptions had to occur …
A big crash caused us to pull apart abruptly. We both looked toward the noise just as a large, brutish looking man came barreling through the bar entrance, dragging a very drunk, thin man with red hair out with him. The large man looked to be around six foot three, with dark brown skin, faded hair, and bulky muscles that were barely contained by his tight, black, security t-shirt.
“Get your skinny ass out of here!” he yelled, tossing the skinny guy onto the side walk. “And don’t come back until you learn how to hold your liquor.”
My mouth dropped open as I fearfully drew closer to Wes. I looked up at him to see if he was as shocked as I was by the display, but he seemed completely unfazed. He even cracked a smile, which made me immediately frown. What the hell … Right then, the scary brutish man turned his gaze to us. I froze, then remembered the position we were in and immediately made Wes put me down. Wes chuckled softly and released me right as a big grin spread across the brutish man’s face.
“Wes!” he greeted happily, walking up to us with his arms stretched wide.
Oh my God. Wes knew him? It was a painful reminder that Wes and I were now basically living separate lives. Our friends were no longer mutual … Why did that make me sad?
“What’s up Max,” Wes laughed softly, stepping back from me.
The guys hugged each other and parted with loud slaps on the back, while I still stood confused about what was going on.
“How long you been back?” the brutish man asked.
Wes motioned toward the road. “We just made it to town about five minutes ago. We’re both pretty tired. But I wanted to bring her to Rickster’s before we turn in tonight, you know, welcome her to Holland the right way.”
“Hell yeah, I know man. Ain’t no Holland without Rick’s.” He finally looked past Wes to where I was standing, quietly watching the two of them. “No way man, is this your girl.”
My frowned deepened. Why did he looked so shocked? It couldn’t have possibly been that hard to believe that I was Wes’s girlfriend. The idiot had probably expected some big breasted, bottle blond, Barbie, wrapped in a tight leather hoochie dress. Men.
Wes grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. I stumbled at first, busy trying to make sure my clothes and hair were together, but thankfully didn’t fall. Though I was still a little disoriented from the kiss, I still managed to give the brutish …Max? a small smile.
“This is my girlfriend, Skyla Mason. Sky this big lug is my frat brother, Max …”
I extended my hand and Max immediately took it in his massive one. “Hello, Max.” My voice was barely above a whisper. And God I hated that I sounded so shy. I felt like a total cliché; the hot guy with the shy, socially awkward girlfriend. I was the heroine of literally every romance novel ever written like ever …
A crooked smile appeared on Max’s face as he shook my hand. “You’re hot.” He nodded his head. “I didn’t know you’d be this hot.”
Umm … A nervous laugh fell from my lips as my smile widened. “What?” The guy was crazy. Was that how he greeted people?
“I said you’re hot,” he laughed, still oddly shaking my hand. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard it before.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to him, I’d never been greeted in such a manner, but thankfully I didn’t have to say a word. Right after the words left Max’s mouth Wes reached forward and pulled our hands apart.
“I think that’s enough now, Max” he said, shooting Max a glare, before looking at me with a small smile. “Are you ready, baby?”
The possessive way he pulled me against his side shocked me a little. In the entire five years that we’d been together I don’t think I’d ever seen Wes jealous before, but here he was, jealous of my contact with this large, brutish man, that I’d most likely never date. The angrier more childish part of me sort of … liked that he was jealous. It was a nice change to the way things usually were.
Reaching for his hand, I whispered, “Yes,” then looked back to Max and gave him a smile. “It was nice meeting you Max.”
The smile Max gave me in return made me laugh, it was that big, that ridiculously cheesy. “Yeah well, maybe I’ll see you inside or something?”
My shyness got the best of me in the face of Max’s bold flirtation. My cheeks warmed as I looked away from him in effort to hide my smile. Though I was no longer the awkward girl with the big glasses, acne covered skin, and puffy hair, I was still a geek at heart. I was still getting used to attention from guys other than Wes … and it seemed Wes was still getting used to it to.
He walked forward, once again moving me without warning, nearly causing me to lose my footing. “Wesley,” I whispered sharply, holding tightly to his arm, and thanking the heavens that I didn’t fall.
“We’re heading in,” Wes grumbled over his shoulder, then he pointed a finger at Max. “Watch yourself, Max!”
“Dude, you seriously did your girlfriend no justice,” Max replied, his tone amused. “Good luck in there bro, everybody’s here …”
“Kiss my ass!” Wes shot.
Though I was confused as hell about the sudden hostility between the two of them, I couldn’t help but wonder what Max meant by Wes doing me ‘no justice’. Had he told them about me? Had he … not told them about me. Or maybe he just hadn’t told his friends that I was black. Even to this day, it seemed to always be the fact that we were an interracial couple that shocked people the most. Why? I honestly didn’t know. It was the twenty-first century after all. People should be used to seeing it now.
When Wes opened the door, I looked over my shoulder just in time to catch Max staring at my ass with absolutely no shame. I couldn’t help but smile, but only because I respected the fact that he had no shame in his ogling … and I was admittedly a bit flattered. He looked up just in time to give me a quick wink before Wes gently pushed me inside the bar. I faintly heard him yell, ‘have a good time, honey’ before his voice was completely drowned out by the exceptionally large mass of people packed inside Rickster’s …
Suddenly fast food didn’t sound so utterly disgusting to me anymore.
“Come on, babe, my brothers’ saved us a seat …”
Wes walked ahead of me, grabbing my hand as he did, and led me through the array of semi-intoxicated college students, while I mentally prepared myself for whatever the hell it was that I’d have to face when we got to the table full of his frat brothers.
Okay, there you have it! This is part of what I have of District Edge. I want to know the truth folks. WRITE IT or DUMP IT. Tell me in the comments. Let’s have some fun!
See you next week.
Peace, and Love!