Unsupervised (Slumming It Book 1)

by S. M. Shade

  “I’ll make sure she gets it.” There’s no way I’m explaining that I probably won’t be seeing her again. I can have Owen pass it along or something. Once we’ve finished eating, I let the orderly know what I’m getting ready to do, and he spreads the word.

  “I’ve got one more little surprise for you,” I tell Grandma.

  I’m not sure I’ve ever been as self-conscious as I am when I take a seat at the piano. It feels like all the eyes in the world are on me. It’s embarrassing, especially because it’s not like I’m about to bang out some Beethoven. It’s Happy Birthday for fuck’s sake. Children can play this.

  With a deep breath, I line my fingers up, double checking I have them correct. Kelly’s voice is in my head, lecturing me about posture, and I sit up straight. Once I start to play, it comes so easily. I remember every note and play it as if I’ve done it a million times. The whole room sings along and the joy on Grandma’s face as she watches me is worth every second of practice I’ve done.

  Everyone claps when I’m finished, and I retreat back to the table. “You’re learning to play!” Grandma exclaims, hugging me.

  “I’ve taken a few lessons.”

  “I’m so happy! You did wonderfully! Just think how good you’ll be by my next birthday!”

  Oh hell.

  Chapter Ten

  Kelly

  Wow.

  Violent Circle sure knows how to throw a party. Technically, my friends are throwing a party for my birthday, but the whole neighborhood is here. The girls have really gone all out. They’ve taken over the recreation room that’s attached to one side of the laundry room, and the neighbors have all brought food. A long table is covered with grilled meats, sides of potatoes, pastas, and vegetables.

  Just around sunset, everyone gathers inside, and Zara reveals a massive chocolate cake. My face heats up as I’m pushed to stand on a chair while everyone sings happy birthday.

  Not that I don’t love what they’re doing for me, but I swear that’s the most uncomfortable feeling. I’m never sure what I’m supposed to do or where I’m supposed to look. Once they’re done, I blow out the candles and slices get passed around.

  “Hey! I thought you said there was gonna be beer!” an irate voice calls out.

  “Barney, shut your flapper before I kick you with my crippled foot!” Vera threatens, wheeling herself over to join me and the girls as we eat.

  “The alcohol is on its way, old man. Now, put something in your stomach first,” Gavin tells him, handing him a plate.

  I’ve been filled in by the other neighbors about Barney—whose real name is Barry—and his is a sad story, though he seems like a happy person most of the time. He’s earned the nickname from The Simpson’s character, though from what I understand, he could drink that guy under the table.

  Barney and Gavin join us and Vera at our table as everyone fills plates and finds a place to eat, some outdoors at the picnic tables.

  “How is your brother doing?” Vera asks me. Vera has to be over eighty, but she’s got this energy that is so fun to be around. You never know what might come out of her mouth.

  “Trey’s great. I don’t see him much. You know, they have a new baby and everything.” I was a little disappointed when Trey said he and his girlfriend, Sasha, couldn’t make it to the party because my nephew, Rowan, isn’t feeling well. He was fine yesterday when I went to visit and soak up the baby cuddles. I hope I don’t end up sick too.

  “Those Frat Hell boys,” Vera cackles. “They were something else. Neighborhood just ain’t the same without them. I don’t even think the cops have been here this summer,” she says as if that’s a disappointment.

  “Sure they were. Samantha called them for the guy passed out in her tree, remember?” Gavin says.

  Blinking, I turn, sure I didn’t hear him correctly. “Passed out in a tree?”

  Gavin turns around to call to a woman sitting behind us. “Sam, tell Kelly about the dude in your tree.”

  With a chuckle, she shrugs. “I don’t know what drugs he was on, but you don’t generally decide to strip naked, then climb a tree for a nap, so it must’ve been something.”

  “He was naked?”

  “Well, if you don’t count the knee high, red and green Christmas socks.” Before I can process that, she adds. “Only one was on his foot.”

  As we’re finishing up, a loud sound from outside makes everyone jump, the echo of it slowly fading. “What the hell was that?” someone asks from the other side of the room.

  Gavin glances out the window, then shakes his head at us with a grin. “I don’t think you need the Frat Hell guys. Your friends seem to do crazy just fine.”

  He’s not wrong. Owen, Marty, and Graham stand around a giant metal stock tank, the type meant to provide water to livestock. They’re unraveling hoses and stretching them to reach some of the neighbor’s water spigots. It’s a little unnerving how normal everyone seems to think this is.

  Almost everyone moves outside to see what they’re up to. “What are you doing? That’s kind of big to ice a keg isn’t it?”

  “It’s not for kegs,” Owen laughs, waving to Graham who has returned to the truck to get something. Is that…dirt?

  Yep. Marty feeds the hoses into the tank and waves at someone to turn on the water as Graham and Owen start dumping dirt in with it. All three of them then jump in and start mixing it with their feet.

  “Sounds like sex,” Marty snorts.

  “If that’s what it sounds like when you’re fucking, you should see a doctor,” Owen says, stomping his feet like they’re crushing grapes.

  “I still have no idea what this is about.”

  Owen beams at me. “This is our late night entertainment. Mud wrestling.” He winks at Remee. “My money’s on you, babe. It’s always the quiet ones.”

  “I am not mud wrestling.” The words come from me, Remee, and Zara simultaneously.

  “We’ll see,” Marty laughs, nodding toward the delivery truck that has just pulled in. “Kegs are here.”

  “So is Trey,” Zara points out as my brother pulls in. Why are they pulling a rented trailer?

  Sasha waves to me from the front seat of the truck before she gets out. “Happy birthday!”

  “Thank you! I thought you weren’t coming. Trey said Rowan was sick.”

  Sasha’s mouth falls open and she spins around to confront Trey. “That’s the excuse you gave! Do you want me to kick you in the balls? Don’t jinx him!”

  Trey retreats to the back of the trailer, and I ask, “Where is Rowan?”

  “With a babysitter. I’m sorry we can’t stay long. It’s the first time I’ve left him and it’s kind of killing me.”

  “I understand.” I hug her, and she grabs my wrist, pulling me into the road and to the back of the open trailer.

  “I wanted to be here to see you get your gift.” Her excitement is palpable and for a moment, I’m leery. My brother and his friends are more likely to prank me on my birthday than bring a gift.

  Oh my god.

  “Happy Birthday, Smelly,” Trey says, beaming as he rolls a bright yellow motor scooter out of the trailer and stops it in front of me.

  “Are you serious!” I screech. I’ve always wanted a scooter. It was a hard hell no from my parents and after I got a car, I sort of gave up on it. “You can’t just buy me—”

  “I can and did. What are you going to do about it?” Trey says.

  “Thank you! I can’t believe it!” Neighbors start to gather around to admire my gift as I throw myself at Trey, hugging him until he pulls me off, embarrassed as I keep gushing. “And it’s my favorite color! It’s so pretty!”

  “What kind of sociopath has yellow for a favorite color?” Owen snorts, and Serena elbows him in the ribs.

  Trey watches as I climb onto the scooter. “You need something to get you to school and work. It’s not a car but—”

  “It’s better than a car!” I exclaim. I can’t wait to get it out for a ride.

&n
bsp; Sasha reaches in the truck and pulls out a helmet, handing it to me. It’s black with yellow sunflowers painted on. “And thank you!” I tell her, hugging her again. “I can’t believe you guys did this!”

  Trey grins, his arms crossed across his chest. “Go ahead, take it around the circle a couple of times. You don’t want to get it out on the road until you get it insured, registered, and plated. His gaze meets mine. “In your name.”

  My heart swells in my chest. He knows what that means to me. It’s mine. No one can use it to control me or show up to take it back years later.

  The whole neighborhood watches as I take off and drive it around Violent Circle. The next half hour is spent giving my friends and the neighborhood kids a ride. When I finally park it in front of my apartment, Trey waves to me, letting me know they’re getting ready to leave.

  “I love it! I need to name it. How about Sunshine or Sunny or…I don’t know,” I babble.

  Trey laughs and shakes his head. “Just keep in mind it only goes about fifty miles per hour, so keep it off the highway. And always wear your helmet.”

  “I promise.”

  “Birthday girl,” Owen says, handing me a shot and a glass of beer.

  “We’re going to go,” Trey says. “Have fun. Not too much. I don’t need a call to pick your naked, drunk ass up in the middle of the night.”

  “I was not naked!”

  Laughter echoes around us, and I join the party as Trey and Sasha head home.

  Two hours later, I am drunk. Way drunk. More than I’ve ever been. I’m also having the best time. The kids have long since been sent inside and it’s all adults in the playground, some surrounding the portable firepit, and others gathered around the giant metal container of mud.

  No one seems to notice when I walk a few steps away and take out my phone. I’ve heard of alcohol making you want to text an ex, but I sure don’t have that urge. I want to text a teacher.

  A gorgeous, sweet teacher who gives me a ride when I’m stranded in a storm and learns the piano just to please his sick grandmother. Chuckling to myself, I add his name as TILF to my contacts from my note app where I had hurriedly copied down his number. This is probably a mistake, but it doesn’t keep me from impulsively sending him a message.

  Me: I’m twenty today. Is that old enough?

  A few seconds pass before I get a reply.

  TILF: Kelly?

  Oh my god, he answered. I need to play it cool. Don’t let him know I’m wasted.

  Me: That’s Ms. Bryant to you remember?

  Ha! Take that great kisser who doesn’t want to kiss me again.

  TILF: How did you get my number?

  Uh-oh. Do I lie?

  Me: Work. Don’t get me fired Mr. Aldrich.

  Apparently, inebriated Kelly doesn’t lie.

  TILF: You’re texting me. I think you can call me Layton.

  Me: I bet you get laid a ton.

  Giggles spill out of me at my stupid joke.

  TILF: Are you drunk?

  Me: Psshh. Of course not. I’m only twenty, remember? Too young to drink or kiss sexy teachers.

  TILF: You dropped my class.

  Me: You dropped my piano lessons.

  TILF: I have something for you. Can I come by?”

  Whoa. What?

  Me: My apartment?

  TILF: If you’re home.

  Oh god, I need advice. When I look up from my phone, Serena is watching me, and I tilt my head for her to join me. I have to send something back and all I can manage is…

  Me: Hold please.

  “Who put that smile on your face?” Serena says, and I shush her, pulling her aside.

  The words spill out of my mouth lightning fast. “Okay, I need advice. I’m crazy about this guy and I don’t know what to do. He’s older, like late twenties, and he’s my econ teacher, well, he was before I dropped the class, and he also runs the Adulting Club that I stopped attending. Mainly because I threw coffee all over him and then petted his crotch. Oh, and I’ve been teaching him piano and volunteering at the nursing home where his grandmother lives. I kissed him during a piano lesson, and he ran away and never came back but now he’s texting that he has something for me and wants to come over, and I don’t know what to do!”

  Before this moment, I wasn’t sure Serena could be shocked, but her eyes are a mile wide. She takes a step back and gapes at me. “You…wait.” She rubs her forehead with her fingers. “I think I caught most of that. You’ve been fucking around with your teacher?”

  “He’s not my teacher anymore! And I just kissed him is all. Other than that, we just…talk.”

  “Is he married?”

  “What? No!”

  “Sorry, if he was willing to mess with a student, I had to ask.”

  “He wasn’t willing. That’s why he ran away and quit piano.”

  Laughter and voices come from behind us, but neither of us bother to see what’s going on. Judging by the shouts, the guys are doing something stupid.

  Serena grins at me. “You like him?”

  “Yes, I don’t know why. There’s something…there…I haven’t felt before.” I can feel the heat in my cheeks when I lower my voice. “He’s the starter penis I want. I mean, I want more than his penis, but ugh, I don’t know. He’s waiting on me to text him back!”

  Serena shrugs. “Invite him to the party and see how it goes.”

  My phone buzzes in my hand, and I have an insane urge to throw it like it’s going to bite me. “Oh, he’s calling.”

  Serena sees TILF on the screen. “You put him in as ‘teacher I’d like to fuck?’ Oh yes, invite him over. I need to meet this guy.”

  Stepping away, I swallow hard before answering. “Um, hi.”

  “Hi, happy birthday.”

  “Thanks.” A roar of laughter comes from the group around the fire pit, and I walk a little farther away.

  “Are you having a party?”

  “Yeah, my roommates threw it for me. Do you…want to come by?” As soon as the words are out, I can’t stop myself. “You don’t have to. It’s a bunch of people, most of my neighborhood. It’s kind of crazy and Owen is here, you know, from Adulting Club and he’ll recognize you so—"

  “Kelly,” he interrupts, amusement in his voice. “Do you want me to come?”

  Yes, and I want to watch your face when you do. The only thing I ever did with Stanley was give him a few hand jobs. The face he made when he came was so ugly and squished up, I had a hard time not laughing. What would Mr. Aldrich—Layton—look like?

  “Yes.” It comes out as little more than a whisper.

  “I’m on my way. I’m right around the corner.”

  As soon as I hang up, Serena is by my side. “Well?”

  “He’ll be here in a couple of minutes.” This is happening so fast. I was only going to text him. I didn’t even think he’d reply. “What have I done?”

  Serena chuckles at my horrified question. “Don’t freak out. You like him. He clearly feels the same way if he’s coming here.”

  He really must’ve been around the corner because only a few minutes pass before he pulls his truck into the parking lot in front of our apartment. No one except Zara and Remee seem to notice when he walks over to me, and I can see Serena is filling them in. Everyone is too focused on the argument taking place between Marty and Owen.

  “Hey,” I say as he walks up to me. Damn, he looks good. The white tee shirt and jeans he’s wearing make him look younger, less serious than the way he dresses for teaching.

  “Happy birthday.” His smile sends a spike of…something through my chest. It’s not a bad feeling.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ve always heard this neighborhood knows how to throw a party.”

  Before I can respond, Owen shouts, “That’s it! Leg wrestle!”

  Marty points at him. “In the mud.”

  So far only a few of the kids have gone in the tank and it was hilarious to watch, but I think this might be even better.<
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  “Marty and Owen have been arguing over something I didn’t quite catch, and it’s devolved into this,” I explain to Layton.

  “Glad I got here in time.” He grins down at me.

  “This is what you want to do with your weekend?”

  “I want to be where you are.” His eyes stay on mine as he speaks, and the warmth I feel from those words is stronger than the heat of the night or the alcohol. “Let’s get a closer view.” He slips his hand into mine and leads me over to the edge of the mud tank. His hand is every bit as soft as I’d imagined, and I love the way it swallows mine.

  “You’re on,” Owen shouts at Marty.

  Zara snorts when Marty yanks his shirt off. “You’ve been waiting to do that all night.”

  Marty flexes both arms and in a douche of the century move, kisses one of his biceps. “If being sexy is illegal, just call me a criminal.”

  “Cleared of all charges for lack of evidence.” Zara bangs her fist on the picnic table like a gavel.

  My chest shakes. Everything is just so damned funny tonight. And awesome. Everything is awesome, like my new yellow scooter, and being with my friends, and having such a great brother. Plus, you know, Layton is holding my hand like it’s just a normal thing to do. I love the world tonight. I wonder if that’s the alcohol? If so, I don’t care. I should drink more often because this is the best I’ve felt since that catastrophic kiss.

  The girls move closer, along with quite a few others, when Marty and Owen climb in the tank. They lie on their backs in the mud, with matching shit eating grins on their faces, and lift to touch their legs while they count out loud.