Three Divisions: Crescentwood 1

by R. A. Smyth

  However, the closer we get to the town itself, the trees thin out as buildings become more and more prominent, and we soon start to drive past idyllic shop fronts, restaurants, wine bars, and coffee shops.

  Oliver drives me into the town centre itself, parking at the curb beside a large green area where children are playing with each other and couples are lying on picnic blankets talking and just getting lost in one another. In the middle, there is a small beautiful garden comprised of numerous wildflowers that border a delicate intricately-designed wrought iron gazebo. I’ve never seen such a beautiful or well-kept town centre before. I can’t think of anywhere back home that remotely compares to this. Where I come from and where I am right now are worlds apart from each other, in so many ways.

  Getting out of the car, I turn in a circle to take in the rest of the square. The main road tracks in a loop around the central green area, and on the other side of the road are shop fronts and cafés, all of which have merchandise or seating out on the sidewalk so customers can take advantage of the beautiful Californian weather.

  Before I take off to explore, Oliver calls out to me, reminding me that his number is in my new phone and to call him whenever I need to be picked up. Thanking him, I take off across the road, ready to explore this little town that I’m stuck in for the time being and just forget about last night.

  After wandering around for a few hours, looking in every shop window. I have come to one conclusion. I will never be able to afford to buy anything in this town. Each shop I pass is full of beautiful merchandise but the prices are insane. The cheapest item I could find in the first clothing store I stopped at was $2,000 for a scarf. A SCARF. Who in their right mind spends that much on a scarf - and it wasn’t even a warm wintery scarf, it was purely for decoration. Complete madness.

  Remembering that I have to find a dress for the party next week, I make a concentrated effort to find something while I window shop but each shop seems even more fancy and upmarket than the last. While they all have beautiful, albeit over the top, dresses, nothing feels like me.

  I’m about to give up and go grab some food when I spot a cute looking corner shop at the end of the street. It is tucked out of the way, removed from the main shops in the centre of the town, looking almost forgotten, and the sign above says Ever After Boutique.

  Taking a quick look at the window display, I know whoever owns this shop is my people. The clothes are less pretentious and don’t scream ‘I spent more on this dress than on my summerhouse in the Bahamas’. Don’t get me wrong, the clothes are still five times more pricey than what I would have spent on clothing back in Northern Ireland, but the style of the clothes doesn’t come across as showy or expensive.

  Walking into the store, the bell rings overhead, letting the sales assistant know a customer has arrived.

  “Hey, my name is Mia, let me know if there is anything I can help you with,” says a smiling, petite blond girl who only looks a few years older than me.

  Returning her smile, I respond, “Hi, I’m Sophie. I’m looking for a dress for a party I’m going to next week.”

  “Sure. What type of party?”

  “A formal, gala type thing, I guess.” I say, not really sure how to describe the type of party Robert is throwing.

  “Okay,” she replies in thought, casting her eyes down my frame, working out what types of dresses she thinks would suit me best.

  “I think I have a few dresses that would look great on you. Let me go and find them and put them in the dressing room for you while you have a look around,” she offers before taking off, not giving me a chance to thank her.

  While I wait, I rifle through the clothing racks, picking out several other items of clothing I love the look of and want to try on. My arms are already full of items when Mia returns to tell me the dressing room is set up.

  Smiling at her, I follow her to the changing rooms where she has four different dresses picked out for me, each more beautiful than the last. I have no idea how I am going to pick one.

  “I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you have any questions or need any help.”

  Thanking her as she steps out of the room, pulling the curtain behind her and leaving me alone, I set down the pile of clothes in my arms that I want to try on once I’ve picked out a dress. Stripping out of my top and shorts, I lift the first dress, a knee-length navy blue one, and put it on.

  I spend ages wearing each dress, looking at myself from every angle. Each one looks amazing on me. I’m not really a dress person, they weren’t a wise clothing option in my old life. Even if they were, I’ve never been to a formal event before or had a need for a formal dress.

  The last dress Mia picked out for me is the winner. It’s perfect. I look hot as fuck in it – if I say so myself. I don’t view myself as having self-esteem issues. Yeah, there are parts of myself I don’t like, just the same as everyone else out there, but right now, looking at myself in the mirror, I’ve never felt more attractive.

  Now that that is sorted, I try on the rest of the clothes I had gathered and, selecting a few to buy along with the dress, leave the changing rooms and head towards the till.

  “Did you get sorted ok?” Mia asks, coming to lift the items out of my hands and begin ringing them up.

  “Yeah, all of the dresses were beautiful. I had a hard time choosing,” I laugh, “You have a lovely shop here, some really unique items.” I compliment.

  “Thanks.” Mia responds with a genuine smile.

  Looking around the store, I see that I am her only customer. No one else is here, and there was no one in the store when I came in either, yet the street outside is busy and the other shops I passed were full of people. “I’m surprised you aren’t busier.”

  “Ah, yeah. I’m not from around here and I don’t sell the same style of clothing as all the other shops. Crescentwood residents seem to stick to their own.” She says embarrassingly, probably expecting me to realise my mistake of walking in here and turn around and leave.

  Giving her a knowing smile, “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m not from around here either and let’s just say, the people have been less than welcoming.”

  “I hope it gets easier for you. I’m glad you like my stuff, though. I’ve put your dress in a garment bag so it doesn’t crease. I can hold on to your purchases until the end of the day, if you want to do more shopping, or wander around town some more.”

  “That would be great,” I say gratefully, “I need to grab some food. Would it be okay if I came back for them in an hour or so?”

  “Yeah that’s totally fine. I’m here all day.”

  Paying for my purchases and saying goodbye to Mia, I leave the store just as my stomach starts to grumble, reminding me that I haven’t eaten yet today. Wandering down a less busy side street, I notice a quaint little café called The Quirky Bird that doesn’t look too busy.

  Pushing the door open. I’m greeted by the mouthwatering aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries. Approaching the counter, there is a display case full of cakes, desserts, and pies, each one looking better than the last. The overhead menu offers soups and sandwiches as well thankfully - as yummy as the desserts look, I need real food right now.

  “Hi, how can I help you?” an older woman with a friendly voice and warm smile says to me.

  Giving her a genuine smile of my own, I respond, “Hi, can I get a bowl of your soup of the day, with a slice of apple pie, and a cappuccino please.”

  “Of course.” Ringing up my order, “that will be twenty dollars. Is that for here or to go?”

  I can’t remember what the conversion rate for that is off the top of my head, but I decide not to care. A girl has to eat. My father can’t be pissed at me for buying food. Besides, I did tell him I was out having lunch with girls from school today.

  “For here, please,” I respond to the woman.

  “Go grab a seat, hon, and I’ll bring everything right over to you”, she says, handing me back the bank card and receipt before
walking off to get my order together.

  Turning around, I take in the mostly empty café, noticing that only a few of the tables are occupied, before choosing a booth at the back of the room. I am hidden from the door and the main street, but can view most of the café and people watch those on a quieter side street as they wander by, perusing shop fronts and just enjoying their Saturday.

  I set my bag down beside me and relax into my seat, taking in the decor of the café. There’s only one word to describe the place - quirky. There are shelves and bookcases placed around the room containing an eclectic range of trinkets, including photo frames containing black and white photos that look like they were taken back when photography first became a thing.

  Among the old knick knacks are modern pieces of art. Lanterns and fairy lights have been hung up across the ceiling and down the walls. I can picture them giving the place a serene feeling at night-time, when it's dark out. I will definitely have to come back some evening to see what the café is like then.

  I’m still taking in the place when the waitress comes over to my table with my order. Thanking her, I take in the huge portion of soup and bread, and the massive slice of pie in front of me. Damn, it looks and smells amazing.

  Just as I’m about to tuck in, the bell above the door rings signifying a new customer. Glancing up, I see the three Barbies, along with several other girls I recognise from school as those that hang on the fringes of the one-percenters - not really accepted but flock around in hopes of gaining some attention - have stepped into the coffee shop.

  Internally groaning, I pat myself on the back for choosing a seat at the back of the café where they hopefully won’t notice me. They all order coffee without even looking at the woman behind the till or thanking her. Rude much. Then, they make their way as a group to the far end of the café, well away from where I am sitting.

  While I am eating my soup, I can’t help but listen to their conversation. Ok, it’s not like I’m making any effort to not listen in, but it’s not my fault they are talking loud enough to be overheard.

  “You and Preston looked so cute together at the party last night, Meaghan,” one of the girls, Lindsay, I think her name is, coos to one of the other Barbies.

  Laughing, Barbie, I mean, Meaghan, responds, “We have always looked good together Lizzie” – oops, I guess her name is Lizzie. Meh close enough - “Preston just needed time to see how great of a couple we make. But he’s finally starting to realise that he can’t live the bachelor life forever.

  “If I have my way - and I always get my way -,” she adds on smugly, and I have no doubt that woman has never heard the word ‘no’ in her life, “he will have proposed by the end of the school year.” She boldly states, followed by a bunch of ear-piercing shrieks as the girls around her go mad with excitement.

  Are they for real? Are they seriously talking about wedding proposals? We are seventeen for Christ’s sake. Why anyone would want to be tied down to someone so young is beyond me. These people have the money and means to do anything they want, but the girls don’t seem to have any greater ambitions than marrying someone they went to school with.

  I will never understand these people.

  Good luck to her with Preston, she’s going to need it. He doesn’t strike me as the type to give in to anyone’s whims. Barbie Meaghan, may think she always gets what she wants, but something tells me Preston always gets his way too.

  The girls continue to talk about this supposed future proposal, the ring, hell, even the wedding. Meaghan sounds like she has her whole wedding planned out already. It's laughable. Frustratingly, it makes me think about my current situation, and I can’t help but wish that planning a wedding, even if it is a fake future wedding, was the most pressing concern I had.

  Before I can spiral too far into those depressing thoughts, I catch movement out of the side of my eye. Turning around to look out the café window, I notice two boys wandering up the sidewalk on the other side of the road. Both are tall, built boys - well they look more like men – wearing collared shirts and chinos. They both have tanned skin from being outdoors and walk with a swagger, as though they own the world.

  The one on the left has longish dark hair that tickles the collar of his shirt. It has been gelled to sit up in every which direction, and dark stubble is coated over his chin. The man on the right has reddish-brown hair pulled back in a man bun at the back of his head and similar coloured stubble dotted over his chin and around his mouth.

  Looking at them, something tells me that they don’t belong here, even though they have clearly made an effort to try and fit in with the way they are dressed. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but they have an air of danger around them that doesn’t fit in with the usual rick pricks that live in this town.

  It’s only when the man on the left raises his arm to run his hand through his hair and his sleeve falls up his arm, showing off the edges of a tattoo on his wrist, that recognition sinks in. I know who these two are - Tyler and Aiden.

  Just seeing them causes a tingle of fear to race up my spine, as my breaths become shallow and I struggle to swallow past the lump in my throat. These men helped murder a man last night, and today they are walking down the street like nothing ever happened, like it is just another day to them. Snorting at my own naivety, of course it was just another day for them. They live in a dark, cut-throat world filled with violence and death. Hell, they probably enjoyed what happened last night.

  Now they are following me around. What the hell will they do to me if they catch me doing something I shouldn’t, or, even worse, what will my father do to me? After his display of butchery last night, I’m pretty fucking sure I never want to find out.

  I hadn’t seen either of them all morning, so I had hoped they didn’t know I had left the mansion, or better yet, that they maybe weren’t going to do my fathers bidding. I guess that was hopeful thinking.

  One thing is for sure, they cannot find me. If they report back to Robert that not only was I not hanging out with the girls from school, but that the girls from school were in the same coffee shop as me and I was choosing not to sit with them, or make an effort, I would be in so much trouble. Now more than ever, I really do not want to find out what my father keeps referring to when he threatens me with consequences.

  Ducking down, doing my best to keep an eye on the two men out front and hide from their view, I watch as they peer through every shop window they pass, clearly looking for someone; for me.

  A few minutes later, the girls from school all start to gather their things and get up. Making a split-second decision, I grab my bag and start to follow them out of the coffee shop, hoping none of them recognise me.

  I think as long as I avoid being spotted by The Barbies, the other girls wouldn’t know who I am, after all, it’s not like they have talked to me or paid me any attention since I moved here.

  By the time they make it to the front door, Tyler and Aiden are coming up on the coffee shop and I can see them looking through the large front window to see who all is inside. Crapsticks.

  Following closely behind the girls as they step outside onto the footpath, I move to close the shop door behind myself. As I turn back around, I walk right into a solid wall. No wait, not a solid wall, a deliciously hard chest. I can feel his abdominal and pec muscles twitch where I have collided with him, and his arms come up to grip my waist, stopping me from banging off him and falling. Twisting my head back I look up, up, up - God how tall is this guy - into the face that I had just been admiring from inside the coffee shop. I’m not sure who is who out of the two, but I’m currently in the incredibly delicious arms of the red-headed man, and goddamn he’s so much hotter up close.

  His mouth quirks up at one side in a smirk, indicating he knows the dirty thoughts that are flitting across my mind right now, causing my cheeks to flare in embarrassment. Down girl, now is hardly the time, and HE is hardly the guy. They are vicious, murdering gangsters for crying out loud.

  Trying to
control my rampant libido, I take a step back from him, “Emm…sorry about that. I, uh, didn’t see you.” I stammer out. Smooth Sophie, way to show him he hasn’t affected you.

  “No worries love, I always enjoy a pretty girl in my arms.” His voice is this sexy deep husk that causes a blush to crawl up over my chest and neck, finally hitting my cheeks, and, I swear, my panties just disintegrated. Seriously what the fuck is wrong with you girl?

  The other guy steps up beside the red-head I crashed into, slowly casting his eyes down my body, my skin heating under his gaze.

  Oh well, my panties are definitely non-existent now.

  He doesn’t say anything, and his face gives nothing away as to what he is thinking when he looks at me. He’s just as alluring as the red-head with his dominating presence and vexing eyes.

  “Let’s go, Ty,” he finally growls out, tearing his gaze from me to look at his friend.

  “You should go, before you lose your friends,” Tyler, or Ty as Aiden called him, says, tilting his head to where the rest of the girls had disappeared further down the street.

  Right yes, I’m supposed to be pretending I just had coffee with them. Following where he’s pointing to I notice most of the girls getting into their chauffeur driven cars and heading off. Thank goodness.

  “Oh, we were done, I’m just heading to my car now.”

  I slowly back away from the two men, equal parts turned on and terrified at being in their presence. I need to get away from them so I can regain my senses. My brain has gone on a hiatus.

  Turning around, I high tail it away from the coffee shop and the two men who just turned my brain to mush. Pulling out my phone I text Oliver, asking him to pick me up, while I take deep breaths, trying to regain some semblance of self-control.

  What the hell just happened back there, and what is in the water in California? All of these incredibly hot guys in one location, what are the chances of that? God, I’m going to have to get my inner whore under control if I’m going to survive this place.

  There is no way in hell I can fall for any of these guys' charms or looks. Aiden and Tyler are cold-hearted criminals who work for my father for Christs sake.