A Fresh Start

by Lexi Bissen

  I swear, I love this girl and her snarky attitude.

  Me: Are you quoting a Matthew McConaughey movie?

  Princess: Well, I couldn’t quote it exactly because you know, you’ve never done the whole “girlfriend” thing. But yes, yes I did.

  Princess: And how did you know that was one of Hottie Tottie’s movies, mister?

  Me: I may or may not have seen it…

  Princess: Are you a closet chick-flick fan, babe? Because I’d be totally okay with that. It’s all right for men to show their sensitive side nowadays.

  Me: I’m not saying I watch chick flicks. I just may have seen this particular one with River and his mom, that’s all.

  Princess: Hahaha. Oh my gosh, did she make you two watch it to teach you about respecting women?

  Me: Maybe

  Princess: I think I may love this woman! That is the smartest thing I have ever heard.

  Me: All right then. Since I gave you a nice good laugh, I’m off to bed.

  Princess: Awe, don’t be a grumpy pants. I was just messing around.

  Me: Yeah, yeah. So, what’re you up to tonight?

  Princess: Is that the second part to your seduction method?

  Me: Goodnight!

  Princess: I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Okay, I’m done now.

  Me: You sure you don’t have anything left in you?

  Princess: No, babe, I’m all joked out.

  Damn, I really love it when she calls me babe.

  Me: So, back to my previous question, what’re you up to?

  Princess: Just got home from Allen’s. All tucked away in bed as we speak.

  I lean back against my pillow, picturing my girl laying there, her soft, blonde hair fanned out across her pillow wearing some sort of cute pajamas, because Ronnie wouldn’t be the sexy lingerie kind of girl. No, she’d have some sleep shorts with an animal or some shit on it. And everything about her would be sexy. Just thinking about her lying in bed makes my dick twitch.

  Me: You in bed thinking about me, baby?

  There’s no reply for a minute and then my phone vibrates…and keeps vibrating.

  “Hello,” I answer.

  “Are you about to sext me?” I usually love her straightforward personality, but right now it’s not in my favor.

  “What? No! I wasn’t sexting you.” Was I?

  “But you were about to. Or you were thinking about it. Either way, there was sex and sexting on your mind.” I can hear the accusatory tone in her voice.

  I try to hold it in, but a loud laugh escapes. “Babe, I’m a healthy nineteen-year-old. Of course sex is on my mind. It probably takes up ninety percent of my thoughts for the day.”

  Dead silence resonates through the line and I check to make sure we weren’t disconnected. “Babe?” I ask.

  “Guys really think about sex that much?” Her voice sounds small, like she’s unsure she should be asking.

  I rub my chin, feeling the days’ worth of stubble coming in. How do I explain this without coming across as a douchebag? I’m not sure there’s a way around this one. “Well, I guess some guys do.” Fuck, that sounds stupid.

  “Would you be one of those guys?” I can imagine her biting her full bottom lip and it makes me want to groan at the thought of Ronnie’s lips.

  “Since meeting you? Just about every minute of every day.”

  Laughter comes from the other side of the phone. “Oh, come on, you can’t be serious right now.”

  “What? You don’t believe me? Have you looked in the mirror lately, baby? You’re fucking beautiful.” She’s easily the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.

  “Shut up, you dork.” She’s still laughing, but it’s forced, and I know she’s doubting what I’m telling her. She doesn’t believe me and that’s a damn shame.

  “Princess, you know how we talked about how you need to not doubt my feelings for you?”

  “Yes,” she whispers.

  “All right. This is going to be like that conversation, and I want you to listen good, baby. You are fucking sexy. You’re so sexy, I have to control myself whenever I’m in a room with you because all I want to do is kiss you until you’re out of breath. You may not see it, but every time you walk into a classroom or down the hall, all the guys turn to watch you. Everyone seems to know how gorgeous you are, except you. I know you’ve never been put first and I fucking hate that for you, but I’m going to tell you every day how smart and beautiful you are, inside and out, until you believe it yourself.”

  There’s silence and I let it continue, allowing Ronnie time to process everything I just told her and hoping it all sinks in. After a few minutes, I can’t take the quiet anymore.

  “Ronnie? You still there?”

  She takes a deep breath, loud enough that it can be heard through the phone. “Yeah, I’m here.” There’s another pause. “Hey, Gibson?”

  “Yeah, princess?”

  “I’m really happy you were arrested and had to move here.”

  I can’t help but laugh. She knows how to lighten the mood when we’re getting serious. “I’m really happy I moved here, too.”

  “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asks.

  “Yep. We’ll have to leave here around one so we don’t get there too late.”

  “And you’re still keeping our date location a secret from me, the person going on said date?” I smile at her not so subtle hint.

  “That’s the plan, princess. I’ve made it this far, there’s no caving now.”

  Ronnie lets out a large, over-the-top huff. “Fine then. I guess I’ll have to just suffer the car ride there, praying you aren’t taking me to a junk yard and planning to kill me or anything.”

  “Guess you’ll have to wait and see. Could be your murder or a fun date with a sexy guy.”

  “A sexy guy? I thought I was going on this date with you? Who else you bringing?”

  Oh no she didn’t. “You better watch it, babe,” I warn her.

  Her soft laughter comes through the phone and I can’t help but smile at the sweet sound. “See you tomorrow, baby!” And with that, she hangs up, leaving me even more anxious for our date tomorrow.

  Most Saturdays, I love working out with my brother. It gives us a little bit of time to bond and talk, but not today. Sean seems frustrated and has barely said three words to me; he’s mostly speaking in grunts. I want to ask him what’s wrong, but I don’t get the chance before he directs me to start my sets on the chest press while he heads to the free weights.

  Two hours and a sore body later, we’re finally done with our workout and I couldn’t be more annoyed. While Sean and I may not be the closest of siblings, he’s never flat out ignored me before. The only communication we had during the workout was him telling me where to go and how many reps to do. Once we’re in the car, I decide enough is enough.

  “All right, what gives? You’re having some major attitude issues this morning.”

  Sean grunts and goes to put the key in the ignition, but I quickly snatch them up and put them down my shirt. I cross my arms over my chest in case he gets any ideas.

  “Not cool, Ronnie,” Sean scolds.

  I give him my best “mom” look. It usually works when she directs it at my dad and brothers. “If you tell me what has your panties in a wad, I’ll think about giving you the keys.”

  We sit there, me waiting for Sean to stop being so stubborn and him acting like a child.

  Five minutes, that’s how long it takes for him to cave. I even watched the clock. What a chump.

  Blowing out an aggravated breath, Sean sits up straight and turns to me. “All right, I was going to leave it alone, but since you brought it up, I’ll ask. Tell me what’s going on between you and the new kid?”

  Well, I wasn’t expecting that. “Are you talking about Gibson?”

  “Who the hell else would I be talking about?”

  “I don’t know. Why would you be asking me about Gibson anyway?” I don’t know why he wants to have another conver
sation about this. I’m a horrible liar and Sean will probably see right through it. Gibson was so much more believable when he was talking to Sean Monday

  Sean rolls his eyes at me. “I know pretty boy said some shit Monday but do you really think I would believe any of that? He was blowing smoke up my ass. I’ve seen the way that guy looks at you, Ronnie.” My eyes snap up to meet my brother’s, wondering what he sees when Gibson looks at me. “I also see the way you look at him. I don’t want my little sister hurt over some punk who’s only here because he’s forced to be. Before you know it, he’ll be gone.”

  I look down to my lap, hiding my reaction. He isn’t saying anything new. It’s not like I haven’t considered what would happen when Gibson leaves. He doesn’t live here. I wipe that thought from my mind, not wanting to get depressed.

  “I know you like him, Ronnie. I see the way you look when he’s around. You’ve never shown interest in a guy before and that scares me. I know you’re an adult and all, but I don’t want to see my baby sister heartbroken over a player.”

  I grab the keys from inside my shirt and throw them into Sean’s lap, regretting taking them from him in the first place and forcing him to talk. All he’s done is put more depressing thoughts in my head that don’t need to be there.

  Plastering on a fake smile, I say, “Nothing to worry about, big bro. I told you that earlier this week. I’m just being nice to him because he’s new and doesn’t know anyone. I wouldn’t want to be ignored if I were new to a town.” It’s not a total lie. I wouldn’t want someone to end up a loner when I could easily make a friend. I was the same way when Allen moved to town and look where we are now. A friendship, or even relationship, may not have been what I had in mind when first meeting Gibson—in fact, it was the complete opposite—but I see beneath his asshole exterior. I wish my brother and parents would be able to see what I see in him, but I know that will never happen.

  “Whatever you say, Ron.” Sean still doesn’t seem like he believes me, but he starts the car and drives us home anyway. This time, I welcome the silence between us.

  One o’ clock comes faster than I’m prepared for. On my way out the house, I pass Sean and my dad while they are tossing the football and practicing plays, a usual Saturday for them. Sean is the first one to notice me leaving, drawing Dad’s attention to the bag across my shoulder and keys in my hand. Dad asks where I’m heading and once I say I’m going out with Allen, he tells me to have a good night and turns back to discuss football with Sean.

  My brother isn’t as easily convinced. Before I’m able to make it to the car, I have to undergo a series of questions about what Allen and I have planned tonight and when I’ll be home. It’s a good thing I prepared for this in case either of my parents were interested in my plans for the night, or Sean, as the case may be. As I answer each of them, I get to the truck as fast as possible. By the time I have my bag in the passenger seat, Sean has run out of questions. He still doesn’t seem convinced, but I’m already starting up the truck and making my way down the driveway before he can say anything else.

  I make it to Gibson’s house almost ten minutes late and text him instead of the usual horn honk. He said his uncle was catching up on some sleep and he didn’t want to wake him. Five minutes later, he comes out the front door and I can’t help but stare. Gibson shouldn’t be allowed to leave the house looking as hot as he does. It’s a hazard to the women he’ll come into contact with.

  On any other guy in Bama, the clothes Gibson is wearing would look ridiculous, but on him, they look perfect. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans that look like they hang low on his narrow hips. They aren’t tight like the skinny jeans some guys wear, but they do fit his legs, forming around his thigh muscle with every step he takes. With what looks like a band t-shirt to finish off his outfit, he has the complete rocker look. I never would have thought I’d fall for someone like Gibson, but I guess the saying opposites attract is true. You couldn’t get any more opposite than the small town country girl and the big city, son of a rocker.

  Too lost in my own thoughts, I don’t notice right away that he’s not in my line of sight anymore until I hear the passenger door slam shut. Shaking my head and coming back to the present, I look over just in time for him to lean across the console and plant a soft, sweet kiss on my lips. Every time our lips meet, a small tingle shoots through my body. I love when this man touches me. He may have this hard outer shell he wants everyone to see, but when Gibson touches me, it’s always gentle and caring. He makes me feel loved.

  Before pulling away from the kiss, Gibson sticks his head in the crook of my neck and inhales. I pull away, laughing at how his stubble tickled my neck.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  He wraps his hand around the base of my neck, pulling me back to him. “You smell good. I like it. Smells like sunshine or some shit. I didn’t even know sunshine had a fucking scent, but that’s what you smell like.” His eyes are hooded as he releases my neck.

  I push his face over to his side of the truck, laughing the entire time. “You’re crazy. Sunshine having a scent doesn’t even make sense.” I put the truck in reverse and head out of Gibson’s driveway.

  “I know it doesn’t make sense, it’s just what came to mind when I got a whiff of you.” He avoids eye contact. Bashful Gibson is cute. I almost expect him to turn red, but I’m sure it takes a lot more to get someone like Gibson to blush.

  Deciding to drop the conversation, I ask Gibson where we’re headed.

  “Just head toward US-98. We’re going to take I-10 and the place should be right off exit 26B.” For someone who’s never been around these parts before, he sure sounds like he knows where he’s going.

  “Did you bring directions with you? I mean, it would be horrible if you read them wrong or something. You should just tell me where we’re going. That way, I’ll know exactly where to go.” And we can be rid of this whole surprise date thing he has going on.

  Gibson’s deep laughter comes through the truck. “Nice try, princess, but I know how to get there just fine. Mapped it out myself, so don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” I huff and relax into my seat, preparing myself for the long drive.

  I try three more times to get Gibson to spill before finally giving up. He’s a tough one to crack. Deciding we should fill the silence and kill the time we have, Gibson and I play a little get-to-know-you game. Other than where he’s from and small, more personal things, I realize I don’t know too much about him, and I want to know everything I can, like his favorite color, which is black, favorite type of food, Mexican, because he couldn’t pick just one dish, and his favorite movie. That question started an intense debate over The Avengers.

  Since I grew up with two brothers, I know all about comic book heroes, my personal favorite being Iron Man, mainly because he has an awesome suit and a smart mouth. Gibson is a Bruce Banner/Hulk fan. He likes the brain behind the big, angry green guy, and then admitted he doesn’t thing Iron Man is a real super hero. I almost stopped the truck right in the middle of highway. The rest of the ride consisted of me arguing my point on why Iron Man is very much a superhero and why he’s the most valuable in the group. This lasted until we reached the Mobile exit. I shut right up when a giant Ferris wheel came into view.

  Stopping at the light off the exit, I look over to Gibson. He has a proud smile stretching across his face and starts rubbing his hands together. “I know, you’re amazed I found something fun for us to do. I’ll take your silence as complete shock. And yes, I’ll be winning you a ridiculous stuffed animal.”

  I can’t help but laugh, because one, he is too stinking cute, and two, this place is more than just a carnival to me.

  We make our way to the entrance of the boardwalk. I still can’t form words and I’m afraid if I open my mouth to try, I’ll start crying. I haven’t thought about this place in a long time in an attempt to forget the hurt I felt from being neglected by my parents when I was young.

  We si
t in silence for a few moments, both of us staring out the window.

  “Did I mess up by picking the carnival?” Gibson asks, seeming to pick up on my hesitance. “I thought you would have been happy to have a real date, where I can touch you and we can act like an actual couple without someone seeing us.” He sounds worried and I hate it. I love how thoughtful this date is. Everything about it is perfect.

  Taking a deep breath, I say, “I’m sorry. I love that we’re able to have a real date, it’s just…this place…” I trail off, looking at the carnival rides and families walking in front of us. It all brings too much emotion up for me and I end up letting out a sob.

  Gibson is quick to undo my seatbelt and pull me into his lap. I would comment on how fast and strong he is to get me over there so quickly, but the tears keep falling and I’m struggling to catch my breath. Instead of asking what’s wrong, Gibson just holds me, letting me cry on his shoulder while he rubs my back. He’s soothing me and I feel safer with him than anyone else. I feel comfortable being able to let him see this emotional side of me and not worry about him thinking I’m crazy for randomly crying or soaking his shirt with my tears. My breakdown rides out with Gibson stroking my hair and back, whispering comforting words to me.

  After the tears have stopped and my breathing is under control, Gibson pulls my face from the crook of his neck and rubs away the last few tears on my cheeks. “Are you okay to tell me what that was about?”

  His voice is soft and cautious, like he doesn’t know if he should be asking that so soon. I’m better now, though, because of him. I nod and he sits there, waiting for me to be ready to continue.

  Feeling Gibson’s hand rubbing up and down my thigh is comforting and helps me get the words out. “You know how I’ve always felt invisible to my parents, how Sean and Jerry and football always came first?” He nods, squeezing my leg. “Okay, well, I had never asked for much when I was a kid. I understood they were busy with the boys’ practices and games. Plus, Mom with her fundraising took up a lot of time.” I begin playing with the back of Gibson’s hair, needing the distraction. “When I was ten, I saw an ad for a boardwalk carnival coming to Mobile for the first time. I had never seen anything like it before. The picture was at night and all the rides and games were lit up. It was beautiful, magical even, especially to a thirteen-year-old. I wanted nothing more than to be able to experience that for myself. To be able to ride a Ferris wheel that goes up so high.”