by Ashley Beale
"You got it," the bartender answers, grabbing two glasses and filling them up. "That'll be three dollars."
Placing a twenty down on the counter, Jaron says, "I'll add in a round of pool, two grilled cheeses, and a plate of fries."
The bartender takes the twenty from Jaron and in exchange passes him a tray of pool balls. "Table seven."
When he gets his change back, we walk over to table seven, as I hold the drinks and Jaron holds the balls. There is a small, square table next to the pool table, where I set the drinks and sit in one of the chairs. Jaron gets everything set up for us and even grabs us each a stick from the wall.
"Ever play before?" he asks when he hands me a stick.
"No," I answer honestly. "Although I've watched my mom and her boyfriend once a few years ago."
"They didn't let you try?" He holds a brow up curiously, obviously surprised to hear that my mother is that much of a bitch.
My response is to laugh bitterly before taking a sip of my soda. "Thanks, by the way," I tell him, holding my cup up to him.
“Not a problem.” He grabs a blue square chalk looking thing, rubbing it against the end of the pool stick. He does the same with mine. By the time everything is set up, the bartender is placing the sandwiches and fries on our table, walking off without so much as a smile.
"How did you know about this place?" I ask Jaron when he sits across from me.
He grabs the ketchup, squirting it over the steaming hot fries. "I lived here for a few months a couple years back."
"So that is how you know about Colin?"
"He's my cousin."
"Oh." I watch him take a few fries, never asking if I want one, so I don't bother taking one. "Did you used to smoke?" I remember him saying he couldn't for the sake of being on probation. I'm finding out more about Jaron than I care to know about it, but I ask the questions anyways.
Jaron chuckles softly, like something amuses him, then he looks me in the eyes. He is always making eye contact and each time he does, it gives my heart a bit of a jumpstart. "I used to do a lot of things I regret."
"What made you stop? Probation?"
"Among other things." His voice drops any hint of amusement.
Since I obviously hit a nerve of some sort, I look around the bar instead of asking any more questions. It's dark in here. There are two small windows near the bar and that's it. The walls are covered in different artifacts, mainly of local sports trophies or tee-shirts and newspaper cut outs. Only three other people are in here aside from us, all sitting at a table near the bar drinking beer. I was expecting Jaron to buy a beer or something alcoholic. Maybe he can't have that because of probation as well.
I'm glad he didn't drink anything though, I wouldn't have wanted to ride with him after he's had a drink. I've had to ride with Bruce a few times while he was either drunk or high, probably both actually. It was always terrifying, especially the one time he had fallen asleep at the wheel. The truck started veering off to the side of the road where there was a large gully. I had to reach over and grab the wheel, straightening it out as the truck started to speed up. I yelled and screamed for Bruce to wake up, and when he jolted from his spot behind the wheel, he knocked my hands out of the way and screamed at me for distracting him. I was only twelve.
Something smacks me in the nose, jumping me from my memories. I look down as a fry lands on my lap then up to Jaron who has a shit eating grin on his face, not hiding his guilt. "Jerk," I tell him with a hint of a smile.
"I thought I lost you or something. I was talking and you were off day dreaming or something."
"Sorry, just remembered something is all."
He stares curiously at me. "Want to talk about it?"
"No, that's fine."
"You going to eat your sandwich?"
I hadn't even noticed that he placed one of the grilled cheeses in front of me. I was dazed out more than I realized. "Oh, thanks."
"Stop acting like the things I do for you are so special. I'm just being a friend. Enjoy your food so we can play some pool and get out of here."
The need to thank him once more stays on the tip of my tongue but I avoid saying it. Instead I bring the food up to my mouth and devour one of the best grilled cheeses I've ever had, even indulging in some of the fries. He didn’t even eat a quarter of them. He doesn’t seem to have much of an appetite, yet he’s always ordering a bunch of food.
Once we’re both finished, he asks if I’m ready to play. I unresponsively agree.
"Okay, stand here like this." Jaron shows me how to stand in front of the pool table once we're ready. He adjusts my hands and fingers over the stick, making sure I hold it correctly. His body presses against my backside, warming me all over. I haven't had someone ever touch me so delicately before.
Holding his hand over my left one, he pulls back on my right hand, showing me how to pull the stick back, then with a jolt he pushes my arm forward. The stick collides with the white ball, pushing it towards the other balls until it breaks the triangle. They go flying in all different directions, one of them sliding perfectly into a corner pocket.
"Looks like your stripes," he says, backing off from me.
"So I have to hit all the striped balls?"
"You have to pocket them," he corrects me. His face lights up when I bite down on my lip, a little confused but doing my best to understand the game. "Adjust your body how I just had it, then line your stick up with the cue ball. Hit it towards this ball right here, exactly where my finger is, and it should fall into this pocket." He points everything out for me in attempt to make it easier.
I do as he says but I hit the cue ball wrong somehow and it bounces over the blue stripped ball. "Umm," I question, looking over to Jaron. I can feel my face heat up with embarrassment.
His attempt not to laugh is cute. "Let's try that again." Placing the cue ball down, he shows me where my stick should hit it, then tells me to take a few deep breathes. I do as he says once more, this time paying a little more attention. The stick pushes into the white ball perfectly, hits my stripped ball, but instead of going in, it hits the side of the pocket, rolling back into the middle of the table.
"Close," he says. "That was a lot better."
I puff out my bottom lip anyways, sad I didn't make it on my own. Being almost second nature, Jaron picks up his stick, aligns it to the cue ball, hitting it perfectly, and sinks one of his balls. Then a second time and a third. On his fourth turn I'm pretty certain he purposely misses, shooting me a grin when he tells me it's my turn.
We end up playing three rounds- and I lose all of them. I had no idea that something like pool could be so fun, even if I completely suck at it. If not for Jaron's help I probably would have only sunk one or two balls in total.
When we get back out into the parking lot, he pulls his phone out and gives it a disgusted look. This is the first time I've seen him even pay attention to his phone. "Hold on, I got to take this." He walks off without a glance, rounding the corner to speak to whomever is calling.
I sit on the bench outside the door to wait for him. Two much older men with long gray beards walk past, one of them reminding me of a biker on Sons of Anarchy- Bruce's favorite show to watch. He looks down at me, his eyes narrowing while his lips lift into a broad smile. "You look lost," he informs me.
"Nope," I answer, looking the way that Jaron had gone.
"Doesn't she Mikey?"
"Sure does, Bill," his friend answers. I don't bother looking up. Instead I pray for Jaron to come back and help me.
"Why don't you come in and join us for a drink?" His hand touches my hair the way Bruce's does from time to time and I know exactly what he's thinking.
I quickly tell him, "I'm not old enough."
I don't think it matters to either of them though, especially when he roars out with laughter. "Hear that Mikey, the princess acts like she doesn't ever drink."
"She don't know what she's missing then," his friend says.
"That's what I'm saying. Come on, Prin
cess, come have some fun with us."
I glance up at them quickly, wanting to push his hand from my hair but not finding the strength within. "I'm all set, but thanks. My friend is going to be back in a second then we have to get going." My voice comes out like I'm not at all nervous, as I've practiced many times, all the while my stomach coils at the thought of these men forcing me to do anything I don't want to do, including the simplicity of having a drink. They're large men, I definitely couldn't fight them off even if I had the willpower to do so.
"Is your friend as pretty as you?" The guy named Mikey asks, running his tongue across his upper lip.
"I don't know, am I?" Jaron's voice reverberates through the parking lot.
The guy who has his hand on my hair pulls it away to crack his knuckles. If he's trying to be intimidating, it's working quite well. I swallow nervously, envisioning the worse possible scenario.
"Sure are, pretty boy," one answers.
The other hackles out a laugh. "Come on Bill, let's head on in. These kids aren't worth our fucking time."
Bill's jaw ticks, not ready to budge just yet. Jaron is less than half their size, even if his muscles are large for his age. I don't think he could take these guys, especially when there are two of them. "Do you know who you're talking to boy?" Bill spits out.
"Let me call Ray and ask," Jaron says confidently. Something is going on I'm not sure about. I continue to watch, both fearful and fascinated.
Bill cocks his head to the side, not budging but not acting on his threat either. "Ray, huh? You know Ray?"
"I'd hope the fuck so, he is my-"
"It's the kid," Mikey mentions to Bill.
His anger turns to something else and he no longer is interested in me nor fighting with Jaron. He nods his head like he finally understands some kind of joke. "Damn, you've grown haven't you?"
"Yup. Now I suggest you apologize to the lady then get your asses inside." Seeing Jaron so demanding and heroic makes me blush, I can feel my cheeks warm up, but I hold back my smile.
Both Bill and Mikey apologize but not exactly nicely, then head inside, talking like none of that happened. When the bar door closes, I cock my head to Jaron questionably. "What was that all about?"
"Don't worry about it." He walks over to his bike, throwing one leg over it, then stares at me while I look at him.
My body doesn't budge. I'm still confused. "No, seriously, what was that? Who’s Ray? I was scared, Jaron, and you just..."
"It was nothing, Ravyn, don't worry about it." Something in his voice changes and he doesn't act like the cocky, heroic man he was seconds ago. Instead he's acting... distraught or something.
After a second of him avoiding eye contact with me, I walk over and climb on the back of his bike. He doesn't say a word to me as he revs the engine and backs out of the space. We zip off down the road as my imagination gets the best of me. I think of a hundred scenarios in my head, such as him being in a bike gang. I don't think any of my possibilities are true, but when it crosses through my head once more that he's saved me a few times now, I can't help but to smile.
Chapter Nine
I’m damn near falling asleep after a while. It takes a lot for me to simply hang on to Jaron. To gain his attention, I tap on his chest. He turns his head so I can yell into his ear. "I'm exhausted. I can't hang on much longer."
"Ten minutes," he yells back, then speeds up some.
We crossed over the Minnesota state border when it was still light out. Now the sun is setting before my eyes. At this rate, I would like to know how he expects us to make it back before Tuesday if we keep going in the opposite direction of Nebraska.
Those ten minutes seem to take forever but eventually he is pulling into a driveway of a gorgeous white home. It's in a country setting, with fields on either side of it. A bright red Audi is parked in front of the garage and a motorcycle similar to Jaron's is parked next to it. Whomever lives here has some serious cash.
When he kills the engine he glances up to the front door. An attractive female that is probably around the same age as Jaron is standing on her porch smiling wide, wiping her hands down the front of her apron. I climb off the back to allow Jaron to get off too. "You feeling alright?" he asks me, giving me eye contact once more. He doesn't seem irritated anymore, which is good to know.
"Yeah."
He pops an eyebrow in the air, knowing I'm not being completely honest. "Are you feeling alright, Ravyn?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
With a long sigh, he reminds me, "Be honest with me. I know you're exhausted. Are you also hungry, or feeling sore, or anything else?"
My stubbornness wants to say I'm fine once more, but instead I nod my head. "All of them."
"I wasn't expecting you," the woman says as she approaches us. "What are you doing out this way?" She grabs Jaron, squeezing him tight in a hug that I'm actually envious of.
He holds her right back, smiling himself. I glance away to get a better view of the surroundings- or at least that is what I tell myself. I make sure to remind myself that Jaron is nothing more than a friend, nor will he ever be.
Out in the field is a large green tractor with some sort of attachment. I think it has to do with all the bales of hay around the yard, but I can't be certain. I may have grown up in the country, but I have never paid much attention to things I don't need to. There is also a swing set and a tree house out into the distance, barely visible from where I stand. She must have kids.
My stomach spirals at the thought of her having kids... with Jaron.
Why would he bring me here? Yes, we may be friends, but he would have to know it'd make everyone uncomfortable.
"Are you going to introduce me?" The woman says.
I turn to face them once more. They're no longer hugging. I notice she is wearing a sparking diamond ring, one that would prove they absolutely have money- not that I couldn't tell by her home.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he says with a hint of pink on his cheeks. That is the first time I've seen him blush. He must really love her. Now I definitely feel out of place. "This is my friend, Ravyn. Ravyn, this is my sister, Justice."
The ball in my stomach flutters out into a million butterflies when I hear him say the word sister. His blushing cheeks were because of me- I think.
I'm relieved she isn't his lover of any kind, but I need to make sure to keep the feeling it gave me to hear those words to myself. With a deep inhale of breath, I tell her, "It's so nice to meet you."
"You too, sweetie." She pulls me in for a hug, similar to the one she gave Jaron. It feels... nice.
"So what are you two doing in my neck of the woods anyhow?" She asks, pulling away to look over at Jaron.
He shrugs his shoulders. "Felt like going for a ride, get away for my long weekend off."
"You're going to get yourself in a heap of trouble, you know that, right?"
"Fuck it," he says so casually. I hope he doesn't get in trouble, it'd be all my fault if he did. He brought us out here so I could get away from the drama back home.
She smacks his shoulder, the way I kind of want to right now. "Smarten up or you're going to end right back up in-"
"What’cha cooking?" he interrupts. I hear the sense of urgency in his voice and I'm curious what he was stopping her from saying. My first thought is jail, but I would hate to assume that, even if he is on probation.
Maybe being at his sisters I can get some kind of answer about his past.
I shouldn't dig into it, I know I shouldn't, but it doesn't stop me from being curious.
With a long sigh, she glares his way then looks over to the front door she walked out of. "Lasagna and garlic bread. Got this new recipe on Pinterest, thought it'd be easier, but it's just... I don't even know why I try these things!"
"Because you're talented," he adds in for her. "Mind if we join you?"
"Oh, I would hate to impose," I say. I can feel my eyes widen with the thought of stressing his sister out any more so than she appears to be.
They both glance at me like I've lost my mind. "I'd love for the two of y'all to join us for dinner. Come on in. The kids have missed their uncle Jar."
Jaron grins at me as we walk towards the house. He has a playfulness to him that distracts me in the best way imaginable. You wouldn't know it from his exterior or the fact he is completely standoff-ish, but I see spots of it here and there. I think it's one of the many things I enjoy about him, the different pieces that make up the puzzle that is Jaron Spilner.
Inside her home is more than you'd imagine from the outside. Not only is it spotless and insanely organized, but it's large. Everything is large. The countertops made of real granite go on for miles it seems, there is a staircase designed for a princess, and the checkered floors are polished, adding to the fanciness of it all. I'm in love.
"You have a beautiful home," I tell her as I continue to look around.
"Thanks darling. I owe it all to my husband, he works his butt off day and night to make sure I have everything I've ever dreamed of and more. There aren't many men out there like that anymore, so when you find one, make sure to hold on tight." She glances at her brother before giving me a wink, then rounds the corner into another room off from the kitchen.
Seconds before she re-enters, two little children coming running out, screaming for their uncle Jar. A little boy with blonde curly hair stretches his arms up high, ready to be picked up. Jaron doesn't disappoint as he grabs the toddler, tossing him into the air, then holding him in a sweet embrace. He picks up the brown haired little girl after, a mini female version of himself, and repeats the gesture. She giggles sweetly. "Uncle Jar, I can't believe you're here!"
"Uncle Jar, Uncle Jar," the boy repeats. They look the same age but the girl talks much better.
Placing his hand on the girls head, he says, "This is princess Alexia." Then to the boys head, he says, "This is cowboy Austin."
"Unc, I’m not real princess," Alexia tells him.
He chuckles. "You had me fooled."
Alexia smiles at me, pulling on her dress she does a curtsy. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." It may be the most adorable thing I've ever witnessed.
