The Wrong Path_Smashwords

by du Paris, Vivian Marie Aubin

  She spotted him at one of the corner tables with Ebony, laughing with a wide, mischievous grin on his face. His dark eyes twinkled in merriment as he spoke rapidly, the girl’s peals of laughter ringing through Annabelle’s mind even as they left the food court.

  Chapter Three

  “I’m home!” Annabelle called as she entered the house.

  “Living room!” was her mother’s response.

  She made her way to the living room, stepping into the lush cream and blue room. Her mother was lounging on the couch, a book on her lap, her head raised expectantly. She smiled when she saw Annabelle.

  “Your hair looks lovely,” her mother assured her. She caught sight of the clothes on the hangers Annabelle held and frowned slightly. “Is that what you’re wearing tonight?”

  Claire had all-but forced Annabelle to take one of Claudia’s short pleated skirts and white button-downs, instructing her to pair it with her platform Mary Janes. Annabelle instinctively held the clothes to herself. “Yeah.”

  Her mother, in her white cotton polo and khakis, looked unhappy. “Is that what’s considered to be ‘in’ now?”

  Annabelle glanced down at the clothes, then at her mother. “In a way.”

  Her mother sighed. “Tell me again what lake this is at?”

  “Cedar.”

  “Alcohol?”

  “Two-cup limit and no driving. I know.”

  Her mother sighed again. “Is someone picking you up?”

  She fidgeted, preparing for her big reveal. “Trevor’s going to give me a ride.”

  That perked her up. “Trevor? From next door?”

  Annabelle nodded, unable to resist smiling uncontrollably. “Yeah.”

  Susan looked pleased. “He’s a good looking boy,” she told her daughter, winking. “And if you’re with him, we know you’ll be safe. Maybe while you’re out I’ll go pay Sophia a visit and we can gush about the cute grandbabies we’re going to have.”

  Annabelle blushed furiously. “He’s just giving me a ride!” she objected, trying to hide her excitement. “It’s not a date.”

  Her mother smiled, conceding. “What time is he coming?” she asked.

  A jolt of horror went through her, all of her giddiness deflating instantly. She stared at her mother blankly. “I have no idea,” she admitted, stunned.

  Susan laughed out loud. “Well then you’d better go get ready.”

  Annabelle flashed a grateful smile at her, then rushed up the stairs to her room. She slipped into Claudia’s outfit, trying not to cringe at the shortness of the skirt. When she sat down, she sat right on her underwear. She made a mental note not to bend down. Other than the skirt length, the outfit was very flattering. Claire really was talented at putting clothes together.

  She pulled a red ribbon from her vanity drawer and tied it into a headband around her light brown hair, tucking the knot against the base of her neck. She added simple silver dangling earrings and a matching necklace and leaned back to check her reflection, smiling in satisfaction at herself.

  For the next twenty minutes she worked on her makeup, forcing herself to apply it more heavily than she normally did. This was her big chance to impress Trevor, and she wanted to look her best, not washed out or young.

  There was a light rap on the door, and she turned. “Come in!” she called.

  Her father stepped into the room with a smile that quickly died as he caught sight of her. “That’s… a lot of makeup,” he said.

  Annabelle swiftly turned back to her mirror, flushing. She looked like the other girls—black eyeliner, smoky dark gray shadow, lots of mascara, and shiny red lip gloss. She spun back to face her dad, frowning. “Do I look silly?” she asked nervously.

  He made a face. “No. You look beautiful. Too grown up for a father’s liking, though.” He sat on the edge of her bed and smiled at her. “You really do look beautiful, sweetie. But that outfit…” He sighed and rubbed his neck. “I know this isn’t something you want to hear from your dad, but is that really the message you want to portray?”

  She blushed, humiliated, and twisted her hands in her lap. “I’m going with Trevor,” she told her dad, hoping to ease his mind. “You know he’s not going to let anything happen to me, no matter how I’m dressed.”

  Leroy nodded. “Your mom mentioned that. I just wanted to… remind you to be careful. Sometimes these parties can get a little wild, and Trevor might not be there to hold your hand the entire time.”

  She fidgeted again. “I know. I’ll be careful.” Again, to ease his mind, she reached out to the end of the vanity and held up the pepper spray he’d bought her, deliberately putting it into her purse.

  He laughed. “Good girl.” He came over and kissed her lightly on the head. “You do look beautiful, honey.”

  She smiled happily. “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “You’re welcome. Trevor won’t know what hit him.” With that, he was gone, lightly shutting the door behind him.

  Annabelle looked back at the mirror when he was gone, studying her reflection. The girl in the mirror didn’t look anything like her, and for a moment, she didn’t recognize herself. Her eyes seemed impossibly large and dark against her light skin. Her lips were red and shiny, the light shimmering off of them. It seemed unnatural, as if she had morphed into someone else. For a brief second she contemplated taking all the makeup off and just doing it the same way she always did. Then she quickly reminded herself who was driving her to the party and gave herself a shake, going to her closet for her platform Mary Janes. She sat on her bed and pulled them on, looking up at the knock on her door.

  “Trevor Scarlett is here to pick you up,” her mother told her, smiling devilishly. She lowered her voice. “And might I say that he looks very handsome? He must be as excited as you; he’s got on some lovely cologne.”

  Annabelle flushed, then quickly finished strapping in her shoes. She stood, holding out her arms for her mother’s approval. “What do you think?” she asked, spinning once.

  Susan arched an eyebrow. “I think the skirt is short,” she declared, then smiled. “But you look beautiful. Have fun, sweetie.”

  She nodded, gave her mother a quick kiss, and headed down the stairs. In the foyer stood Trevor, his hands clasped in front of him, looking stunning with his short brown hair, a dark blue button-down short-sleeved shirt layered over a white t-shirt, and dark jeans. A hint of cologne drifted up to her, and the smell made her knees go weak.

  “Hi,” she greeted, even as his eyes widened at the sight of her.

  “Hi. Wow, Annabelle. You look… beautiful.”

  She flushed. “Thank you,” she said softly. “You look great.”

  He grinned, his charming, friendly smile, and held out his arm for her. “Shall we?” he asked.

  She was delighted to discover her arm fell perfectly into his as he led her out of the house and to the dark green SUV his parents had bought him for his sixteenth birthday. Dusk had taken over the sky, the sun falling behind the hills, casting red, orange, and yellow hues everywhere.

  Trevor held open the passenger door, and pleased, she slid in. She had been longing for this moment for years—since she was a little girl—and even if it wasn’t really a date, Trevor had asked if she wanted a ride, and he was holding open her door for her. She could pretend, at least.

  He climbed into the driver’s seat and they talked about school, about their moms’ book club, and anything else Annabelle could say to keep the conversation going as they drove, soft music drifting through the speakers. She didn’t think she had ever been so nervous or excited in her life.

  Trevor flipped through the GPS unit for directions, and as she saw just how far out they were going, she felt a sinking pit form in her stomach. The lake house was much farther away than she had thought it was. She fought the urge to call her parents to give them the address, but the longer they drove, the more the distance increased between the houses, and the more nervous she grew about the isolated location. When Trevor tur
ned the car around a corner, she eyed the address on the GPS and slid out her cell phone, quickly texting the address to her parents with a note that she would call if she needed them.

  She knew it was silly, of course. Nothing was going to happen. It was just a precaution—a just-in-case.

  When they pulled up to the lake house and saw the dozens of cars parked everywhere, she could have kicked herself for letting her parent’s paranoia get to her. She could already see people everywhere, the loud thrum of music from the lit house like a beacon to the influx of cars.

  Trevor parked behind a red sports car and moved around the SUV to her door, surprising her when he held open her door and held out his hand to her. All of her trepidation vanished as she placed her hand into his to allow him to help her down.

  She cried out as she oh-so-ungracefully slid from the height of the SUV while trying to keep her skirt down and braced herself for the impact, startled when it never came. She forced her eyes to open, finding her gaze on a strong upper arm and chest. Giddily, she realized Trevor had caught her, clutching her against him to keep her from falling.

  “Are you okay?” Trevor’s concerned voice asked. She flushed, mortified, slowly looking up at him from the safety of his arms as she straightened her legs under her.

  “Yeah,” she choked out, trying not to cry in humiliation. Her one shot to make a good impression on Trevor Scarlett, and she had turned into a complete and utter klutz.

  Trevor looked unhappy. “I knew I should have borrowed my mom’s car. I’m sorry, Annabelle. I know my car’s hard to get in and out of.”

  She could only stare in disbelief. Was he serious? He was blaming himself for her clumsiness? Could he be any more perfect? She started to reassure him it wasn’t his fault when Trevor was suddenly mobbed from behind by some of his teammates. They greeted him, then whistled at the sight of her.

  “Hot, Anna,” Rick declared, a wolfish smile on his features. Claire had dated him for a few weeks, and according to her, Rick was, “The worst she had ever had.” Annabelle liked to think she meant as a boyfriend, but she wasn’t that naïve.

  “Who knew a little vixen was hiding in there?” Parker added, grinning as he wrapped an arm around Trevor’s shoulders. “Careful, Trev, I might steal your date.”

  Annabelle felt embarrassment wash over her as she waited for Trevor to correct him. Instead, to her surprise, Trevor laughed and rolled his eyes, stepping out from under Parker’s arm to stand at Annabelle’s side. She could have melted when his hand rested lightly on her back. “Don’t even try it,” he warned his friends. “You can ask her next time.”

  There were catcalls and laughter, coupled with teasing words as the boys led her and Trevor to the backyard, where a group of about thirty were gathered. Trevor lightly tugged on her arm, holding her back as the group surged forward. “Sorry about that,” he said apologetically, looking embarrassed. “I know I didn’t actually ask you on a date, but my mom made me swear that I’d take good care of you tonight, and you know how our friends can be sometimes when they’ve had too much to drink.”

  If she’d been a mirror, she would have broken into pieces on the floor. “It’s okay,” she assured him, trying not to choke on her own words. She forced a smile, relieved for the darkness around them to hide her tears. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

  He nodded encouragingly, and suddenly his hand on her back felt much less romantic and much more brotherly. She was grateful for the beer one of the soccer team members handed her, drinking it down quickly. She knew she shouldn’t—she had promised her parents she would only have two drinks at most—but she accepted another, trying to ignore the hungry eyes that poured her drinks.

  It was almost an hour later when her friends finally arrived. By that time, it seemed like the entire school had converged at the lake house, and she had lost track of how many drinks she’d consumed—and Trevor.

  When her girlfriends surrounded her, she blurted out the entire thing. Claire was attentive, soothing her, and brought her another beer. She was already drunk but she still drank it down, numbly accepting another cup one of the boys on the football team handed her.

  And then came the churning feeling in her stomach. She quickly excused herself from her friends and cut through the crowd of students standing around talking, heading for the trees beside the lake. There, separated from the rest of the group and finally surrounded in quiet, she threw up until all of the alcohol had been purged, and then she leaned against the tree she stood beside, trying to catch her breath.

  She didn’t know how long she stood there, trying to breathe. All she knew was something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. She felt restless and dizzy. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing. All of Trevor’s words seemed to melt into the back of her mind as she stood there, her body aching in a way she had never experienced before. She wanted to move. She had to move. Her senses felt alive; on fire. Everything around her appeared brighter and more vivid, beautiful in a way she had never seen.

  She made her way back to the party, keenly aware of every muscle in her body that flexed as she walked. She had never been so aware of her muscles before, or how good they felt to stretch out.

  She searched for her friends in the cluster of students, feeling brighter and full of life. She wanted to hug Claire for comforting her, and Trevor for bringing her to the party, but she couldn’t find either of them. She made her way to the kegs, sure she would be able to spot one of her friends there.

  The soccer player who had been filling drinks all night flashed a large grin at her and picked up a cup. “Another?” he asked.

  She nodded, feeling a flirtatious smile lift her lips. Why hadn’t she noticed the tall, lean, tanned soccer player before? “What’s your name?” she asked, raising her voice over the throbbing music.

  He grinned mischievously, pouring more beer into the glass. “Sean.”

  “Sean?” she repeated. He nodded. She took the glass and flashed a smile. “I’m Annabelle.”

  “I know who you are,” he told her confidently. Pleased, she held up her glass to him, toasting his words, and threw back the beer. When she had downed the whole glass, she set it down. “Do you want to dance?” he asked.

  “Yes!” she declared, eager to get rid of some of the energy inside of her. She allowed him to take her arm and lead her out to the crowd, where an impromptu dance floor had been created on the grass. She felt strong, slender fingers pull her close, their legs interlocking as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  They danced until someone came up and tugged on her arm, asking to cut in. She turned, smiling brightly as she recognized Parker at her side. She thanked Sean for the dance, chucking him under the chin teasingly when he scowled. Parker reached out for her, bringing her to him. As they danced, his hands travelled all over her body, warming her already flushed skin.

  To her surprise, it felt delightful, and she had no desire to stop him. She had never really liked Parker all that much, trying to avoid him and his womanizing ways, but she felt full of love for him, wanting to hug him.

  “Let’s get a drink,” Parker said in her ear, low and throaty. She shuddered at the sensation and nodded, allowing him to lead her by the hand back to the kegs. Parker held up two fingers, and to her surprise, he tossed a twenty onto the table.

  Another soccer player Annabelle only vaguely recognized flashed an impish smile and grinned.

  “You look gorgeous, you know,” Parker told her, drawing her into his arms and leaning down to gaze into her eyes.

  She smiled up at him coyly, pleased at the compliment. Maybe she had misjudged Parker all this time. He was a good looking guy, with his short crop of sandy brown hair and warm brown eyes. “Yeah?” she teased. “The clothes are Claudia’s, you know.”

  Parker had her pressed up against him, and he was irresistibly warm, his embrace impossibly comfortable. “Maybe you should borrow her clothes more often,” he purred in her ear.

  She shivered again at the sens
ation. Parker released her when the drinks were done, and she took the one the soccer player held out to her, toasting it to him in thanks. He grinned wickedly and she giggled, even as she turned back to Parker, who lightly tapped his glass against hers. “To trying something new,” he said.

  She nodded and threw back the contents of the glass, guzzling it until it was empty. Then she laughed out loud, and Parker laughed as well, leading her back out to the dance floor.

  “Can I cut in?”

  “No,” Parker declared hotly, even as Annabelle stepped back away from him to look at the new voice. It was one of the football players… Mark, she thought.

  Annabelle lightly patted Parker’s strong arm. “You and I can dance again,” she promised, even as she turned and all-but fell into Mark’s arms.

  He danced roughly and out of time with the music, but she didn’t mind. It was almost a relief to have an outlet for all of the energy she felt building up inside of her. She writhed along with him, laughing when he started kissing her neck.

  And then something strong and firm grabbed her arm and yanked.

  Hard.

  She went crashing into the person, yelping, even as she lifted her head to look up. To her astonishment, Will stood there, his eyes flashing as he stared at Mark. He was dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, an open white shirt over it.

  “What the hell is your problem, man?” Mark demanded furiously, stepping forward, almost crushing Annabelle between them.

  “You don’t want to start this,” Will told him coldly, his grip on Annabelle fierce. She frowned up at him.

  “Do you want to dance?” Annabelle asked him, confused.

  Will glanced down at her, his expression a mixture of sympathy and anger. “Yeah,” he answered.

  Annabelle felt delight fill her. “Really?” she asked excitedly, turning to face him. His grip on her loosened, but he didn’t relinquish her arm. “I kind of thought you hated me.”

  He ran his free hand through his hair. “I don’t hate you,” he told her, almost patiently.