Pieces of Paisley

by Leigh Ann Lunsford

  They don’t make it five steps before he calls out, “C’mon Paisley, follow us.” I glance around and realize I would fall them through the fires of hell before staying in this sausage fest kitchen. I was excited for college life until being this frat-like house for a few hours.

  He could have mentioned I was following them into the bedroom of none other than the man I am lusting after. Chad introduces Krista, “This is my boy, Jake. Jake, meet my girl Krista.”

  Jake is polite and engaging with Krista and then turns his gaze to me, and I almost melt. “Who is this?” he nods towards me.

  Krista jumps in, either oblivious or not caring that I am about to crumble on the floor in a puddle of want. “Paisley, my best friend.” Then not missing a beat she asks him, “So, how was doing time?”

  He looks at her shocked, and I move forward to grab her and drag her out of here before he cuts her up in pieces. I mean, he has done time. He lets out the most melodic laugh I have ever heard and Chad grabs her and tugs her to his chest. He is whispering in her ear, and she is just nodding.

  I look at him, and he is even more gorgeous close up. Since he knows I am checking him out, I decide to make conversation and make it less awkward. “So, what branch of the military are you in? Marines? Air Force?”

  He looks at me dumbfounded. Then a dimple appears on one side of his cheek as he grins at me, pointing to his chest, “U-S-N . . . United States Navy, can you read?” Did he really insult my intelligence? And when did he remove the top of those coverall things, and how did I miss that?

  “Uh, excuse me, I wasn’t staring at your chest, sorry to disappoint you,” I throw back at him. He has gotten me fired up now. When he hits me with a full blown smile, I no longer remember what I was irritated about.

  “Let me shower, and we can head out,” he announces to all of us. Chad ushers us out of the room.

  Once in the living room I turn to both of them, “Excuse me, head out where? And what do you expect me to do?”

  Krista rolls her eyes at me, “We are just going to drive around for a bit, maybe go bowling or something. Jake just got out of the brig, which is the equivalent of prison for the military, and Chad says he hasn’t been able to drive his truck or been out for six weeks.”

  How does she think that explanation is acceptable? “Krista, you have lost more than a few fucking brain cells hitting your bong. How do you find this idea even remotely sane?”

  “Oh, goodness Paisley. He got into a fight . . . it’s not like he murdered someone. When you are in the military you are considered government property; your ass can get in trouble for having a sunburn if they want to bust you for it. It was a fight, no big deal.”

  I am sixteen years old, this grown up shit is not for me. Chad butts in, “Yeah, he was holding his own with three guys, but then three more came in, and it was over when he got sucker punched. His jaw was wired shut for four weeks.” How does he think this makes things better?

  “Krista, I just wanna go home,” I whine at her. Not my finest moment, but I don’t care. He makes me think and feel things that are foreign to me and that edge of danger he represents may make my heart pitter-patter and my stomach feel like I am on a roller coaster, but my sane mind reminds me, this will end badly.

  Before she can respond, Jake comes out, and the way he fills out a pair of basketball shorts should be illegal. “I will drive, and first thing on the agenda is Mexican food. I am starved.” And lo and behold, those two jackasses follow his lead and head out, leaving me standing there wondering what kind of alternate universe I am in.

  Chapter 2

  Jake

  Love isn't something you find. Love is something that finds you.

  Loretta Young

  Finally being out of the brig and heading back to the beach house for the first time in six weeks made me realize how much I missed freedom. My temper gets the best of me and mixing alcohol with it is a disaster. Which is exactly what happened that night. Some idiots running their mouth, me having too much to drink and running my mouth back. I have no problem admitting my wrongdoing . . . after the fact. By then, it is usually too late.

  Of course, the house is full, and a party is in full swing. Only four of us guys live here, myself, Chad, Rick and his fiancé Kara, and Toby, but there are always about ten to twenty extra people here. I love it and hate it at the same time. I love being surrounded by people and having a great time, but I think about the day I get a girl. Do I really want her subjected to this? I know I won’t be getting a girlfriend while I am still enlisted, which is two more years, so I guess I will just love the chaos for now.

  I want to get in the shower and leave for a little bit. I want some real food, fresh air, and freedom; I don’t want to be cooped up inside. Chad has his new girl here. I guess he has forgotten about the one back home waiting on his sorry ass, and has agreed we can all go out and eat and chill. I am making my way through greetings and drunken cheers when I see her. She almost makes my steps falter and my heartbeat go irregular, but I keep going. Her eyes meet mine, and I curse myself for making plans to leave the house tonight. As Chad gets to me, I tell him to meet me in my room. First, I want to change our plans and stay in and then second, I want to find out about her.

  I think I am finally being rewarded, and I don’t know what for when I turn around and see Chad, his girl, and the girl of my every wicked fantasy. She is a tiny thing, and I think about the ways I could throw her around and do naughty things with her. I see her checking me out and I can’t help but eat up her appreciation. When it dawns on me she is with Krista, my night reaches a new level of perfection and my mind works overtime figuring out how to get some alone time with her. Before I can formulate a plan she asks me what branch of the military I am in.

  When I give her the smart-ass answer laced with an insult, I immediately see some spark in her eyes. She comes right back at me and with that show of fire, she has sealed her fate. She will be mine, for a night, a week, a month, a year . . . maybe a fucking eternity. I announce to them I am taking a shower, and we are heading out, and when her brows furrow together, she is adorable. I see no one told Princess about her plans for the evening. I can’t help but laugh at her confusion, and I can actually see her trying to formulate an escape, my amusement doesn’t go unnoticed, and the glare she sends me could make hell freeze over, but it just sets me on fire.

  I discreetly let Chad know he is to take his car with Krista, it is a two-seater sports car, and no matter what Paisley says, he must not relent. This will leave her to be forced to ride with me, or stay here and only being around this girl for ten minutes I know her only option will be to ride with me. She may think that is the lesser of two evils, and I will continue to let her think that for a little while. I rush through my shower, and as I approach them I hear her trying anything and everything to get out of this evening. Krista isn’t backing down, and I don’t pause to let her continue, I tell them “let’s go,” and they follow me; well two out of three do, Paisley is still standing there with her mouth open, looking around for someone to answer the obvious. I nod to Chad when we get down to the bottom of the stairs, and he and Krista go over to his car.

  Finally, Ms. Paisley comes traipsing down the stairs and makes her way to Chad’s car. She realizes she is shit out of luck. I really shouldn’t be getting enjoyment out of her frustration, but she is so damn appealing when she is mad, and right now I would say she would rate an easy eight on the Richter scale. I am doing my best to not choke on the laughter threatening to erupt from my chest. My gaze runs down her body, and there is no laughter coming out when I see the length of her shorts . . . who the hell lets their daughter out in those?

  Paisley demands, “We all ride together or I will just follow you in your car!”

  Krista tells her, “You can’t drive a stick, Pais . . . just go get in his truck, and we will follow you. Chad can’t stand for anyone else to drive, and you know I get carsick in the backseat.”

  “Unless the car is s
topped . . . then you always find your way to the backseat,” Paisley bites out. “Besides, we are going three miles, not three states, you will be fine in the backseat. I am not playing Krista.”

  “Live a little, Paisley Hull. One day you will thank me for this, and every other adventure. Quit living your life for others, and live it for you. Hop your sexy ass in the truck and let’s go.” When the door shuts in her face, she realizes she is out of choices. I watch her glance back up towards the balcony of the house and when about six guys come out with a beer funnel, being crude and air humping, she decides my truck is a safer option. I can tell she overthinks everything, and I don’t think before I do anything, so maybe we will balance each other out tonight.

  I open her door, and she mumbles “thanks” at me and then promptly slams the door in my face. I just shake my head at her and make my way over to the driver’s side and climb in. I look at her, “Are you going to be this ornery all night?”

  “Ornery? What the hell kind of word is that? Yes, I know what it means, but who even says that anyway?” She laughs.

  “Kansas men, that’s who,” I tell her with no humor in my voice. I am proud of my country roots.

  “Well, Toto, you aren’t in Kansas anymore. Welcome to Florida,” she tells me and damn it if I don’t laugh at her quick wit and sarcastic answers.

  “So, Paisley, tell me a little about yourself,” I prompt her to share as I start the car and wait for traffic to clear.

  “What you see is what you get.”

  Shaking my head at her, “Oh, I doubt that.” And I mean that with every fiber of my being as there are so many layers with this girl, and she has never been peeled layer by layer.

  “What do you want to know?” Oh, I see, she is unsure what to talk about and wants me to take the lead. Odd, I never pegged her for a follower, more like a grab the bull by the horn type girl, but first impressions aren’t always correct.

  “What do you do?” I try and keep it simple.

  “I am on summer break from school.” Her quick answers are direct, and she isn’t going to give me anymore.

  “What do you go to school for?” I want to know what intrigues her, what she wants to do with her life.

  “Uh, a diploma.” Apparently she is not going to give me anything.

  “Okay, smart ass,” I chuckle “What are you getting that diploma in?”

  “High school.” I almost swerve off the road. Did she just say high school?

  “Paisley, how old are you?”

  “Sixteen.” What the hell? I about sideswipe the car next to me when I swerve in the opposite lane. “Have you been drinking?” she asks me.

  “No, but I think I need to.” I can’t believe she is sixteen. I would have thought eighteen, possibly nineteen. Shit, does Chad know we can get in trouble for this? Underage and military don’t exactly mix.

  “So you are naturally a shitty driver?” I know she is referring to my near wreck, but what she doesn’t understand is I can get in serious trouble just for her being in my truck.

  We pull up into the Mexican restaurant, and I immediately lay into Chad, audience be damned. “What the fuck? They are underage, do you know how much trouble we can get in?”

  Chad looks at me like I have just spoken a foreign language, “What?”

  “Underage.” I point to Paisley who is listening to every word exchanged, her head pinging back in forth between Chad and I like she is watching a tennis match, “Six-fucking-teen. High school.”

  Chad’s eyes dart to Krista and Paisley doing a double take, “Shit, no way.”

  Krista jumps in, “I turned eighteen in March, and we are both going to be seniors. Paisley started school early, but will be seventeen in September. Don’t worry, lover boy, you are safe,” she winks at Chad as she says this.

  His whole posture visibly relaxes, and he gravitates towards her, and I throw him a reminder, “Uh, she isn’t safe,” and I point to Paisley.

  “First, you don’t need to worry about my safety or age. I didn’t ask to ride with you, Romeo, that was all your doing. Second, not interested . . . I don’t think I can make myself any clearer. Besides, how old are you?”

  “Twenty, last month.” I can tell I have shocked her the way she grips Krista’s arm. “You have to be eighteen to join the military, Paisley. I have been in almost two years.”

  Isn’t this evening turning into a nightmare? If I am truthful, I don’t give a shit she is sixteen and that thought takes me by surprise. She is a kid, a gorgeous, naïve, and fearless kid.

  “Let’s just go eat, and chalk this up to a failed attempt at you trying to play Lothario with a high school student.” See, right there, when she throws attitude with a hint of sarcasm, I don’t give a shit she is underage, I just know I want to know more of her. A hell of a lot more.

  We all make our way in and order. I get some ribbing from her for ordering a beer and ‘stripping her innocence by drinking underage’ which I remind her she has been doing all night. I find out she is brilliant. Smart, she wants to be a lawyer, and you can tell by her interactions with Krista and the way they share stories about other friends, she is loved. When the conversation moves to family, I find out she is the youngest of six, only one brother and I feel sorry for him if her sisters are anything like her. She quickly laughs that off and explains her sisters are reserved and very dependent on her parents. I am an only child and my mom re-married when I was in high school and I love and respect my stepfather. We have that in common. I don’t mention that my dad has re-married many times over, and I can never get his approval or acceptance, and I don’t know why I still try.

  Time slips away and before I realize, midnight is here. I ask the girls what their curfew is. I almost choked on those words because I haven’t had a curfew in years. Paisley just laughs at my stuttering.

  “Two. My parents have done this five times already, they watch out for me but don’t smother me.”

  Krista turns to Chad, “We have an hour and fifteen minutes before we have to head out, let’s go.” As Chad is hurrying her out of the restaurant Krista yells over her shoulder, “Meet you back at the house, Pais,” blowing her kisses and tripping over her feet to keep up with Chad.

  Paisley just looks at me and rolls her eyes. “Kids these days.” I can’t help but bust out laughing at this girl. She has kept me on my toes all night. “Want me to call a cab so you don’t have to have an underage high schooler in the car?”

  “No, I think I will risk it this time,” I answer her with a smile so she knows I am sorry for being an over reactive jerk earlier. She just shrugs and walks out. Once outside she pulls a cigarette out of her purse and lights it. “Nasty habit.”

  “So is that shit you have had in between your lip and gum half the night.” She has a point. “At least you spit, but you know what they say about spitters?”

  I stare at her in confusion, missing the whole turn of this conversation.

  “They are quitters,” she deadpans at me. See, I never know what she will say to me. I can’t help but shake my head at her while a smile creeps across my face. I stand with her in silence while she finishes her cigarette, and I really hate that habit. My mom has smoked for as long as I can remember, and it drives me crazy.

  “Are you going to be okay at the house waiting on Krista? It will be pretty crazy this time of night.”

  “I figured, but I am just going to sit on the beach or take a walk and get my feet wet until it is time to go.”

  “Not by yourself,” my tone comes out harsher than I meant, but the thought of her walking along the beach at night by herself sends me in a panic. That isn’t safe.

  “Thanks, Dad. Although, I have two of those and last I checked my mom wasn’t looking to add a third, but I will double check with her.” When I don’t respond to her smart-ass comment she turns to me, “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Jake. You are off babysitting duty when you drop me off.”

  That is the first time she has said my
name, and I love the sound of it rolling off her lips. “I never said I was babysitting,” I lie to her. “I wasn’t planning on dropping you off and leaving.” I damn sure was going to drop her off and go hit the clubs looking for a willing girl, one that was preferably legal, until she told me she was walking alone on the beach. “I can take a walk with you or we can sit outside and people watch.” I surprise myself when I blurt out. This girl has me on edge.

  She barely produces a smile, like that thought is about as appealing as spending the next hour inside the house with a whole bunch of drunken seamen. She just shrugs, “Whatever.” Not quite the response I am used to getting.

  We end up sitting in the bed of my truck, and I laugh at her admission about loving old school rap, and the fact that she has no shame. I hate any rap, but I find an old school station and listen to her beat box away.

  Relaxed and leaning back, the conversation flows. I tell her about my hometown, my best friend, Andy, from back home, and what I want to do with my life. Honestly, I just want to go home and work for my dad’s security firm. He is the main reason I joined the Navy, he felt some discipline and structure would help me. I was a brawler, always have been. My temper is short, and I don’t try and control it. Something I am trying to work on.

  All too soon, Chad pulls up and it is time for them to head home. She told me they lived about forty-five minutes from here, inside the city limits of Jacksonville.

  “Thanks for keeping me company. It wasn’t as nearly horrid as I was picturing,” she smirks at me.

  “Come on, Princess. You can do better than that.”

  “I really hate Princess . . . never been a Disney fairytale person. I believe we make our own paths in life and I definitely don’t need a prince to save me.” Noted. I will stop calling her Princess.

  Krista honks the horn and hollers, “Come on, Paisley. We are going to be late, and I don’t want to get in trouble. We have a beach day tomorrow.”

  “Guess I will see you tomorrow, Paisley,” emphasizing her name so she knows I got her message loud and clear and will respect her wishes.