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Authors: Nicky Jayne

Embracing Life

BOOK: Embracing Life
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Embracing Life

Copyright © 2013 by Nicky Jayne

All rights reserved.

 

Ebook Edition.

 

Cover Design by Kari Ayasha at Cover to Cover Designs.

Editing by Erinn Giblin.

Formatting by
Inkstain Interior Book Designing
.

 

ISBN-13: 978-1492708414

 

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or locales are entirely coincidental.

 

Find out more about the author and upcoming releases at
www.facebook.com/nicky.jayne.56
.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Though our time together was short, our love for you will last the ages.

 

Rest in Peace Nana

E.M Coombes   1927 -2013

 

 

 

 

 

L
ife
is unique for everyone, and my life is no different from the rest. My days are filled with ups and downs, and my nights are filled with dreams or nightmare. Sadly, though, over the last 3 three years, my nights have been plagued with more nightmares than dreams. Lately, I’m finding them harder and harder to fend off during the day. Needless to say, I’m having more downs than ups. I need to get a grip, but I can’t seem to get past the terrors invading my brain.

 

 

 

 

 

A
nothe
r
day at school, another day with the same old shit. I’m counting the days till I graduate. 1,147 to be exact. Could they go any slower?

Walking out of my front door, I turn back to face the house that I’ve grown up in and can’t help but wonder if this life is for me. Do I want to have a 9-5 job? Do I want to sit behind a desk and answer to some overpaid arrogant man like my father? Quite simply, no. I want to make a difference. I want people to respect me, even look up to me and the efforts I make in life.

I had the talk with my parents last night, and to say it didn’t go well is an understatement. I laid out my plans to my folks, and they were appalled to say the least. I calmly outlined the reasons why I don’t want to go to college, listed all the pros of joining the Marines, and sat back to listen. As always, it ended in a screaming match I knew I wouldn’t win, so I cowered in my room, drowning out the disapproval of my parents through the random tunes that radiated from my iPod. When I look at my parents, I want more than anything to see concern hope and pride in their eyes. Instead, I stifle their anger with a closed door and wait for morning so I can escape.

I have come to the conclusion that my parents’ reactions regarding my career choice are selfish. All my life, they have had this plan laid out for me. It is everything I don’t want to be. I don’t want to be that nine to five Joe
Schmo. I don’t have an empire to run when I graduate. I don’t have a nameplate waiting on me in some tricked out office. For years, I have watched my father work his fingers to the bone for peanuts. He hasn’t gotten anywhere. He hasn’t climbed that managerial ladder. I doubt it will ever happen for him. That type of mundane life is not for me. I want purpose. I want to make a difference. Most of all, I want to live my own life.

As I walk down the driveway, I look to check out my baby, my pride and joy. My 1990 Ford F150. She looks like a complete pile of scrap metal right now, but I have big plans for her. She will be looking as good as new in no time. I long for the summer, and I can’t wait to get under the hood and make her purr.

The walk to school is short but, as always, never uneventful. In the last ten minutes, I had the misfortune of running into the two biggest sluts that strut the halls of Hilsom High. The closer and closer I got to them, the more I saw the routine they perform every morning when we pass. The hair, the eyes, the spray.  It’s pathetic to watch.

As I watch them now, I am ashamed to say I fell into their trap once. I made out with Jessica, the rocking red head. From what I hear, her nickname suits her. It was not a pleasant experience. It was like kissing a fish, gasping for air. I swear she was sucking my face off. And then, there is her friend. The ever-faithful Vanessa. I scoff at the thought. Faithful is not in that girl’s vocabulary. She is, however, nice to look at.  Her slim, long-legged figure is sculpted in all the right places, and her platinum blonde hair off-sets her bold blue eyes, but she is an all-out slut, and she wears the title proudly. She has slept with every guy on the team. I, thankfully, dodged that bullet, not completely unscathed, but I dodged it none the less.

About a month ago, after finishing a game, I headed to the locker rooms with the intention of having a quick shower before the guys and I went out for burgers. As I walked into the shower room, I could hear water running. Thinking it was one of the guys, I started to undress and head into the shower. As I rounded the corner, I ground to a halt, not believing my eyes. Vanessa was in the shower, completely naked. She was obviously unaware I was there. I watched as her hands worked their way down her body. Being a red-blooded male, I could not help but watch the erotic scene taking place in front of me. Her hands slid down her chest to the dip between her legs. She gave a slow, sexual growl as she touched herself.

I let out a sigh, releasing the breath that I didn’t know I was holding. As if on cue, she turned and our eyes met. I knew, in that moment, why she was there. I snapped back into reality as her eyes climbed up my body with that “fuck me” look. With that, I turned and walked away, resorting to taking a shower at home.

I’ve pretty much steered clear of the girls since the shower incident. I want nothing to do with them. Girls mean trouble and getting tied down to a life that I don’t want.

As I sidestep Vanessa and Jessica, I spot Mike and his girlfriend, Katie, walking across the parking lot. Mike has been one of my best friends since I don’t know when. I feel like, one way or another, we’ve always been together. He is a great guy, and he loves Katie. That boy is so under the thumb; he has been for years now. It doesn’t bother him though, so who am I to get in his way?

“MIKE!” I holler. He doesn’t respond. Katie is probably chewing his ear off about something. Hands cupped around my mouth, I holler as loud as I can, “MICHEAL DEACON!” 

Mike swings violently around, bringing Katie along for the ride. She stumbles to keep up with the sudden move. Grabbing her tightly around the waist, Mike steadies her to keep her upright, but shoots him a killer look.

Ha! That got his attention.

“What’s up, Josh?” he chokes.

He lays his head on Katie’s shoulder, trying to calm the overwhelming flame of anger brewing in her face from embarrassment. I have the feeling that I have disturbed something. Nearly falling on her face probably didn’t help her reaction to me either.

“Nothing much, man.”  I look over at Katie, giving her a little smile. It is apparent from her face that she is not happy to see me, but she keeps her irritation to herself.

“Hey, Katie. Good weekend?” She takes a deep breath, visibly relaxing, and smiles at me. Katie has always had a short fuse, but she gets over her temper quickly.

“Hey, Josh. Yeah, it was great. Mike and I went to the movies on the beach. You should’ve come.”

“Umm… no, Katie. You know that scene isn’t for Me. I was working on the designs for the truck anyway. It’s going to look great.”

“You and that truck, Josh.” She rolls her eyes at me. She knows how much I have invested in that truck, and I am not just talking about money. “You haven’t even driven the thing yet! I’m still betting it won’t get any further than your driveway. It’s going to have to go
straight back to the junkyard.”

“Katie, that’s not fair. Come on now. You know it will get at least five miles before it conks for good.” I snap my head and glare at Mike, the traitor. I will show him soon enough; he will be begging me to drive his lazy ass everywhere.

“Ha-ha! You’ll eat your words. Everyone will want a ride in her once she’s up and ready.”

Mike nods and smiles, like he knows I will get her running but can’t win against Katie. I shake my head. That boy is so whipped. Katie gives me a wink, and just by the expression on her face, I know where she’s going with her next line of questioning before it even escapes her mouth.

“Sooo…Josh, who’s your first ride going to be? Vanessa, Becky, Samantha? Hmmm…maybe Jessica? You know she only has eyes for you,” she teases.

“God, Katie! Will you stop already? You know I’m not interested in them, or any girl for that matter.” I scowl and look imploringly at Mike. “Leave it alone, will
ya?”

“Ok, Josh. Whatever you say. You’ll cave one day.”

Trying not to get any further into this conversation, I turn and head towards the school building. Mike walks alongside me for a second, patting my shoulder and giving me a slanted grin. Katie is in-tow as always, holding Mikes hand like her life depends on it. She makes a comment about Jessica wanting my ass as we walk into the hallway. Mike nudges her with his shoulder, and she falls silent. Well, one could hope she would. She always has something to say.

Retrieving my books from my locker, I head to class, making my way through the sea of bodies that litter the hallway at this time in the morning. Some rest against door jambs,
others lean against lockers, and then there are the random few that stand in the middle of the damn hall.

Weaving through the mass, I finally make it to class. Finding my seat, I get ready for the usual drawl of English. I
fold my arms on the desk in front of me and prepare for an hour of daydreams.

Ms. Davis will have my attention for about ten minutes before my head is elsewhere, so she better get what she needs to say out and fast. As she begins to speak, the classroom door opens. She turns just as Principal Peterson wanders in. He talks to Ms. Davis with his back to the class. I watch her face as they talk silently. As they talk, the class begins its usual whispers, and eyes roam the room for the usual suspects. It’s very amusing to watch them squirm. Mr. Peterson turns and clears his throat, ready to address the class.

I am no longer paying attention to him. I catch a glimpse of her as she walks into the room. Her head is down, her hair acting like a shield to the world, hiding her soul from the prying eyes. Her arms are wrapped around her books. She tightly grips them to her chest as if they are security blanket for her.

I am intrigued. There is something about this girl that is keeping my attention fixed to her petite form. Drawn, like a magnet, the negative seeking the positive.

All eyes are on her as Mr. Peterson as he quiets the class.

“Settle down,” is all I hear. My eyes are locked.

“Settle Down!” Mr. Peterson demands again, growing agitated as tone of his voice has changed.

“Thank you. Now, we have a new student joining us this year. I want you all to say a hello to Melanie Clark. Melanie has recently moved here from Kentucky and will be with us for the rest of the year. Katie, would you mind showing her around?”

Katie beams with excitement. She jumps out her seat, shoving it into the desk behind her. She pushes past Mike as she meets Melanie in the middle of the room. She throws her arms around Melanie’s shoulders and pulls her in for a hug, acting like a young child with a new beloved toy. It will not be long before this girl is attached to Katie by the hip.

I smile as I look at Katie and take in her reaction. She has not a care in the world about how people look at her. She’s so full of vivacious life that everyone loves her, and I can tell she’s ready for this challenge. I say “challenge” because this girl, Melanie, doesn’t look the type to fit in with most of this rambunctious crowd. She’s more along the lines of permanent library attendee.

I can’t seem to draw my eyes away from the new girl. Melanie. She doesn’t look up. She doesn’t speak. She simply takes her seat and waits patiently for the day to begin. I have this sudden urge to introduce myself, but as I start to rise from my seat, Ms. Davis clears her throat and reels off the pages we will be working on today. With this, I have no choice but to sit, wait, and bide my time.

My eyes memorize every detail about her from the color of her hair to the birth mark on her neck. Everything about her is perfect. Her hair is brown, but as the sun moves around the classroom, it almost looks like a black, silk sheet, shimmering with each ray that strikes it. Her skin is naturally tan, and she has the most amazing pink on her cheeks. I notice her flush a couple of times as Katie goes on and on. I don’t even think Katie has
stopped to breathe in the last twenty minutes. As the questions become more personal, I can see Melanie growing more and more uncomfortable, so much so that she has literally sunk her head into her book.

I wish she hadn’t. Her voice is smooth and angelic. I long to hear it.

It’s slowly becoming torture. I can’t focus on the work in front of me. The words and lines blur. I am distracted by her. My eyes wander, but they are drawn to her.

Class after class, I see her. I feel her near. I have yet to meet her, but that is something I moved to top priority for lunch. I have checked my watch every minute for the last ten, and time seems to have slowed. I am not a regular in the cafeteria, but today, I will make an exception. I spend most of my free time in the gym. Keeping myself in the best physical health is important to my plan to join the Marines, so I put in as much work out time as I can. Not to mention, I find it easier to avoid girls like Vanessa and Jessica and their whorish hands.

I enter the double doors of the cafeteria, and I don’t need to look far for her. My body senses her, and I am drawn to her like a moth to the flame. I avoid the line and head straight to the table that Katie, Mike, and Melanie are occupying. Katie and Melanie are facing away from me when I approach.

BOOK: Embracing Life
5.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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