“You are an affectionate kid,” Pop adds. “And he’s right, it does calm you. Your dad always uses it.”
He does?
“Okay,” I say slowly, realising that Dad does always rub my shoulders, tuck me under his arm to hug me or something when I’m in a grouchy or heightened mood; sometimes he even attempts to brush my hair. “How do I do that without him freaking out and me feeling like a shameless but totally wormed hussy?”
“Use another guy?” Pop chuckles. “That would get the goat bleating.”
“Great advice, he’ll be in jail within milliseconds.” I shake my head. Ideas try take form in my head but having no experience to trampoline off they keep falling flat.
“What about making him a video thing?” Harry asks, reminding of the Maine music clip he made me.
“I can’t draw,” I lament forlornly my head banging on the window as we stop again. “Nat can’t either.”
“What in the luck of the seven sisters?” Nat exclaims pushing his face out the window. He grabs my shirt and pulls me over next to him to hang out. I hug him with a gleeful smile.
“Nat, get ready to get your dacks off!”
Praying for rain
Seth
“I think I’ll just eat after the exam,” Kelsey places the menu precisely back in its holder and continues sipping at her skinny latte, or whatever she had that was in her consumable beverage limit. “Shall we go over the notes one more time?”
“No way,” I whimper in horror. “My brain literally hurts. I need a skin to skin massage or something to ease my pain.” I add hopefully.
She laughs, and I notice it draws attention from the males in the café. I don’t know how she perfected a laugh that makes you want to kiss her instantly, but she has. I lean forward to do just that, but she only smirks and takes another sip of her watery creation and slowly eases back to lean against the swanky seat. She waggles her eyebrow at me.
“Blue balls,” I grumble under my breath.
“After one more go of the cards?” her voice is low and full of promise.
I groan for the millionth time today and huff out a breath, all while letting my hands shoot out to be given the damn pieces of instant brain pain.
Except they remain empty and when I raise hopeful eyes to Kelsey’s face, I’m surprised to see her eyes slit towards something over my shoulder.
“Goddamn, come to Daddy,” a deep voice sounds, and I frown, thinking that maybe Kels is giving the evil eye to some guy shooting her a come one but it’s not. Oh, hell it’s not.
It’s Fingers. There on the big screen. My mouth drops open and I find myself moving like an ignoramus zombie until I’m standing in front of the television.
Holy shit. She looks freaking stunning and I’m shunted into the memory of a similar time she donned her ‘innocent beauty’ guise and I nearly end up in jail for hijacking a bloody excavator. Watch out, world, she’s up to something. A shiver courses the length of my spine.
Sitting calmly on the central pedestrian strip in the middle of the busiest cross section of George Street, she is surrounded by onlookers and press. But typical Avalon, she is ignoring them and lavishing attention on her huge beast of a pet as they partake of what seems to be some sort of picnic. She looks like a poster child for vegan love sans the meat bikini.
As I watch, the camera zooms in and the highlights glinting on a long, shiny lock of her dark hair catch the sun as it slinks over her shoulder to reveal the steak bikini. I thought my steak art was amazing, but it’s completely dimmed in comparison to Av’s own flesh swelling above them. My mouth goes desert dry.
She smiles secretly at her bull, feeds him a grape or something and leans over to pick up her guitar, all like she’s not in the middle of bloody Sydney, that cars and pedestrians aren’t rushing metres from her position. She strums and starts humming a tune. Camera’s zoom in again and everything seems to hush.
“I plant my hands in this thick fur,” (*1)
She runs one hand through Frank’s curls, and he closes his eyes in pleasure. I always forget just how lilting Av’s voice can be, I swallow as I feel another person move in to stand next to me to watch.
“I see myself in these brown eyes,
I learn about love, I learn about pain,
Talking to God, praying for rain,”
She raises her eyes to the sky; they look so incredibly blue, like those alluring ocean shots advertising Jamaica.
“I found my wings in this city wind
It picks me up to fly and knocks me down again,”
She stands and puts her guitar down and slowly walks around Frank, running one hand along his massive bulk. When she gets to his left side, he lifts a front leg and she steps on to it and up on to his back.
“She’s hell hot,” the voice next to me says and there is a low feminine grunt from behind me. Hell is right. Av’s standing on Frank’s back now. He actually does appear quite docile, but I thought that about Amber too. I won’t ever make that presumptuous mistake again. One wrong move and I reckon that thing would gore your insides out and suck them up like spaghetti.
“There’s some things in life you can’t explain
So, I’m talking to God, praying for rain,”
She raises her arms and closes her eyes as she continues to sing. “So, I can stand tall in a storm like a live oak tree,
No one in this world’s gonna ever get the best of me,”
And there’s Avalon, blue eyes full of fire gaze into the camera and I inhale sharply.
“Running down a dream like I’m chasing a train
Finding who I am a little more every day,”
She sinks on to Frank’s back and returns to that innocent female. Some part of me is wondering who the hell has coached her in the last few days? And do they know just who they are upskilling?
“‘Cause I’m just a girl
Talking to God, praying for rain.”
Avalon is fricken gorgeous, I’m not sure why I can’t stop mulling over the fact. Maybe it’s just the added thing of her being on TV, I mean this girl has slept in my bed with me, tortured me, drugged me, made me laugh and generally well, tortured me. I manage to pull my eyes from the television and throw the café a furtive scan. Every guy is watching this; mesmerised. I turn back with more than a bit of annoyance.
“I see the world through my mama’s eyes,”
You’d have to know Av to see the flash in her own eyes, the pure fire flaming there for a second.
“But I got my grandpa’s stubborn pride,”
And the genuine smile that tears at your insides when you are on the receiving end of it. She glances sidelong to somewhere out of the camera’s range and adds a wink.
“And I hope that I never change
So, I’m talking to God, praying for rain,”
And I’m not sure how they engineered this, whether Harry or someone has a hose, but Avalon holds out her arms again, that exquisite face held to the sky and waterdrops start to dance over that peach soft skin, splashing softly down over her like she literally is an angel. They roll slowly over that upturned face and fall over her lips and as her pink tongue sweeps out to lick them, I nearly slump on the ground in defeat. The man next to me swallows loudly. The camera follows the drops as they flow down the angles of her face, over her shoulder blades, down her neck, over the swell of her breasts, down the non-netted part of her toned stomach and on to her legs. I have never, ever seen something so sensual in my entire life. F.U.C.K. M.E. D.E.A.D.
‘Cause I’m just a girl
Talking to God, praying for rain
Yeah, I’m just a girl
Talking to God, praying for rain.”
Her hair darkens around her face and her blue eyes are electric as they open and focus on the cameras in front of her. The crowd has swelled in numbers as faces peer at her. Information on how to donate to her cause slides along the bottom of the screen. I wait for her tirade and strong Braveheart kind of rant. Maybe a knife show o
r a whip lashing.
“If I may?” she asks, surprising me by her uncharacteristic show of meekness. She gets the go ahead, like who wouldn’t give her whatever she asked for at that moment. Everybody that doesn’t know her. But right now, if she were in front of me like that, I’d give her anything too. Anything.
“I also would like to pray for one more thing,” she starts, her voice is soft and restrained, “I would like to pray that each and every person in this amazing country, will take one minute of their hectic time to choose even just one Australian grown and made product, each and every time you shop. I pray this with all my heart as it would make a massive difference to people just like me,” her chin dips and she uses those big eyes to hold her audience captive, “and animals just like my baby here, Smithson’s Sir Frank Colossal.”
For some reason, the docility stutters on that last sentence and Av’s usual air of defiance seeps into her voice and face and her eyebrow arches. She recovers quickly though and continues. “I pray that every person that sees this today will do that one thing for me,” she continues milking it with those puppy dog eyes as they tear heartstrings and fronts of undies down through the camera; the dude on the other side of me shudders and makes a strange noise, “and if you are interested in helping out people like me even further, you can donate to the number on the bottom of the screen. I would really appreciate it,” she smiles and then laughs as Frank’s tongue hooks around one of the tomatoes on her crown and scoops it into his mouth. A second later she is sprayed with juice and seeds, which Frank decides he would like back and licks off her face.
“Oh, hell, she’s better than I thought,” Kelsey’s low and very unfamiliar tone grinds behind me. Maybe Sam’s comments got to her after all.
“You know that girl?” the guy next to me turns to her, eyes almost feverish. I wonder with an evil smile at Noah’s current state right now. He’s in big trouble. Good luck, buddy.
Kelsey ignores the guy and wraps her hand around my arm, her fingernails digging in hard enough to draw blood and drags me out into the sun.
NB *1 – Praying for rain by RaeLynn, hear it here: iTunes: https://wmna.sh/raelynn_itunes
Spotify: https://wmna.sh/raelynn_sp
BIG TROUBLE
Noah
Jarrod waits patiently for my response. My hands twist the cold glass of beer this way and that, creating a low singing noise against the woodgrain table. ‘How are you coping with that side of things?’ What a question for today of all days. My father’s face flickers again before my open eyes.
I sigh and take one hand off the beer to rub over my forehead, my skin almost feels feverish compared to the condensation on my fingers. I thought I was fine but… maybe I’m not. Most likely, I’m well and truly fucked up. I want to smile and say ‘fine’, but he knows me without a voice and I’m guessing it’s written all over my face.
“That bad? Shit,” his mouth tugs down as his eyes rove over me, evaluating.
“Just today,” I start. “And it’s nothing to do with her. That’s heaven, it’s so, so good, but sometimes, I just… can’t. It’s always me and this shit leftover from my parents. I just want it gone.” It feels so strange voicing these thoughts and kind of wrong, like they are concreted now, not just musings.
“Want to tell me?” he sits back and waits, making it clear he won’t be offended either way.
Where do I start and what do I omit? I’m not really a share everything person but without being cold I don’t know what to do with it. I know that letting it build up wouldn’t be a good idea.
“You know what I’ve done when girls…” I hesitate and take a second to wish for a moment that my history was different. Funny thing is I don’t feel any remorse for it, only when I add Av into the equation; then it seems bad.
“…decide you are the one,” he flashes a smile.
I nod once and am assaulted by a barrage of quick, flicking memories showing just how vicious I can be. I do not want to hurt Avalon. Ever. I cannot lose her. I will not be that person again. A little and welcome voice tells me I’m not. I take a moment to savour that as if it were true.
“Hello, main intervener and patcher upperer wingman here,” he watches me with sympathy and something else I can’t place. Loss, maybe? He continues to read me.
“I’d be very surprised if you hurt Avalon from the few interactions I’ve seen,” he states firmly. Guessing my thought direction correctly. Maybe he thinks I’ve changed too.
“I’m not like that with her, I feel it there, though. Fuck. It’s always there. But I tend to harness it and move away before anything can get out of control. But lately,” I take a deep breath and try to gather my thoughts as I picture those blue eyes finding mine.
“What’s happening lately?” he asks.
Here’s the omitting part, I can’t say hey, I’m pretty sure going to the cemetery where my parents are to practice digging up graves kind of triple agitated my normal demons.
“She’s affectionate and I’m just learning to … touch her and let her touch me without a total mental breakdown,” I sign, my fingertips tingling from even thinking about running them over her soft skin, it’s almost comical how much she adores scratches on her arms.
“How, erm, far have you ventured?” He shoots his focus to the TV over my shoulder, leaving me to decide what to say. I wonder whether it’s the best idea to talk to him or not, but he has experience in this arena.
“Nowhere, really, I guess, but hell, even that far is bloody physically tolling and it’s breaking me down because I want her. For you to touch someone it probably is nothing, ho hum, but for me, every single time, all those normal feelings you’ve had since you could have them, hit me all at once like a tsunami and I’m shit scared if I let go even a little when they come on…”
“…You won’t be able to stop,” he finishes for me. We both are quiet thinking of what carnage that could lead too. And how Avalon would react and probably him thinking of how utterly small she is compared to me. His eyes narrow before he guides his gaze to the table. Something has just occurred to him. I know that look.
“What is it that draws you to her?” he asks, picking at the bowl of chips on the table.
“What doesn’t,” I answer simply.
He doesn’t reply but frowns in the way he does when he’s trying to phrase something in a nice way.
“Just say it,” I hold his gaze.
He looks slightly uncomfortable. “I’m just wondering if you’ve thought why. Why her out of all the girls?”
I’m not sure what he’s getting at.
“I’m just wondering whether you are so attracted to her because of her looks or because she’s unpredictable or because… she’s leaving?”
“Leaving?” I utter, a desolate pit opening in my stomach.
“You know what I’m saying? So that there will only ever be a certain timeframe for the pressure and if you can get a certain distance, then you’ll be okay with it from there… or you know it will end so it’s like you can see the light at the end of the tunnel…” he trails off at the shadow that must pass over my face. The end.
I go to say why I love her but… too many things pour into my mouth at once and I get tongue tied.
“I mean, the beauty thing is a no-brainer, if you’re going to lose it for anyone why not the most beautiful girl that you will most likely ever come across. But have you ever thought that for you, it’s a way that at least when she leaves, you can use that as an excuse, you know? Like hey, sorry you’re not up to my ex’s standard, and feel justified or whatever. Not even worried about not trying with a normal girl.” He goes on. “And as for the unpredictable thing… I was just thinking that, you know, maybe it’s easier for you to have someone so unpredictable so you can’t, you know like, get momentum.” He stops, looking pained. “Don’t listen to my ravings, I have too many sisters that rave on and analyse literally everything guys do! I’m just trying to make sure you’re in full control and not going to get hu
rt, man.”
Full control. Two words that will never be in the same sentence as Avalon Smith. I muse over his words and an unease creeps into my center.
“I’m more worried about hurting her,” I state quietly.
“But that’s what I’m wondering… you know? Like, if she were a plain, normal-arse girl that you knew what to expect and how she would act, would it be less pressure on you? You’d have a reasonable idea of what she would do, what she’s going to say and basically, well, you wouldn’t have to stress. Avalon is…” he shakes his head trying again to find the words. I just wait. I can kind of see what he’s getting at.
“Sorry, man. Forget all that. Where were we? Oh, yeah. Being with her… the wild, unpredictable knife wielder. Can you just go back to being friends again? Until you can handle it all,” he adds as he sees my reaction.
His words are still buzzing in my brain, making me wonder because I’ve been through many a shrink and they always say stuff that I’d never considered but maybe should have. It’s too much today, I push them blindly away to pick up the conversation.
“There is no way I can go back to friends again. I have to have her in my life, Jaz. I have to,” my voice is low but fierce and it’s true no matter what the reason is or was to begin with. I love her now. Everything about her.
“What if you don’t touch her then, just for a bit?” he leans forward. “Or how bout setting a limit for a period of time?”
“What? Like just holding her hand or something for a week?” Any contact with Av is good. But then again, would it be proving what he said before? About biding my time until she leaves? Hell, I wish he never said that. I’m getting confused.
“Maybe it would work because you’d get used to it?” he suggests, gazing at me with assessing eyes.
“For me, maybe, but what about for her?” I shake my head, thinking of how playful and affectionate she can be.
“You know her, do you really reckon that she would get jack of you if that’s what helped you?” His gaze is riveted on my reaction.
Avalon Expandable Heart: The Wild Heart Series Page 45
