Floating (4 page)

I can’t believe it and I won’t accept it. I know I hurt her. Fuck, I hurt both of us, but I fucking love this woman with everything in me. Hearing Ronnie tell me she’ll never give her heart to anyone, including me again, causes the familiar feeling of gut wrenching, soul searing pain. If she thinks for a second I’ll give up on winning her back, she’s fucking mistaken. I heard everything she said, every single fucking thing. What she doesn’t realise is that I’m not that twenty-three-year-old idiot anymore and I’m going to do everything in my power to get her back. Even if that means fighting dirty. I understand what Cage was saying now about Kendall being made for him, because I feel the same way about Ronnie. It isn’t going to be easy, I get that, but I don’t want easy. I want to work for it, find a way to redeem myself in her eyes possibly.

Standing, I make my way to the door to get lunch started, when I turn back I look her square in the eyes. “Sunshine, you might not be ready to give me that big, beautiful heart of yours back just yet, but I fucking promise you Ronnie, now you’re back in my life, I’m not fucking letting you go this time. You’re MINE. You can fight it. You can try and run, Baby, but trust me when I say, I’ll fucking hunt you down, and bring you back where you belong if I have to. No matter how far you go, or for how long, I’ll find you and bring you back.” I don’t give her a chance to answer. At this point, it doesn’t matter what she says, or how much she argues with me; everything I said was true. I will find her no matter where she goes, no matter how hard she tries to hide. I’m a thirty-two year old man now, and that’s my woman lying in my bed. She’s mine to protect. Mine to love, and mine to fight for.

CHAPTER TWO

Veronica

Sixteen Years ago… Veronica is eleven, and Nate is sixteen

              It’s not fair. I hate having to share my birthday with Verity. Hate, hate, HATE, it. I mean; I know we’re twins and all, and that’s all well and good, but why my Mom and Dad insist on having a joint party for us every year, I will never know. It’s like a circus and I hate every second of it. I DON’T like being the centre of attention, not at all. I’m not like Verity who soaks up the attention like a sponge, she practically demands it, and doesn’t stop at anything to get it. I would rather sit on the window seat in my room reading a book, or listening to my music by myself, than have to entertain people. But no…

We have to have this stupid party. They aren’t even my friends, and I don’t really have any to be honest. Other than Carmella, my best friend since kindergarten and Nate, I don’t have anyone close enough to me to invite, and that in itself is embarrassing.

I met Carmella during recess on the playground of the kindergarten we went to. She was so little I thought she had walked over from the day care centre next door. It had happened before. A teacher forgetting to latch the gate properly, and one of the little kids escaping to come and play on the bigger play equipment over here. Carmella only looked about three or four, instead of the five she needed to be to be in kindergarten. She had long dark hair in pig tails, darker toned skin that looked like the caramel fudge my mom makes, big brown eyes, and the happiest smile I’d ever seen. It made me automatically want to smile back at her, it still does. She came up to me asking if we could play together. Of course, I said yes. She was all alone, and so little, who could say no to her? Not me that’s for sure.

Carmella just moved to Patterson and told me it was her first day at school here, that’s obviously why I’d never seen her before. It was that simple, like everything is when you’re that young; we played, drank our juice boxes and we’ve been friends ever since. Being one of only two people, other than my parents, that could tell Verity and I apart, Carmella and I became joined at the hip doing everything together. I had sleepovers at her house, her parents were so cool. They were both musicians and we had karaoke and dance parties in the living room. She came over to my house so we could do our homework, read magazines, and giggle about boys. Our parents took us to the county fairs, movies, swimming, pretty much everywhere together.

The best thing about Carmella was she hated Verity on sight. It’s not a nice thing to say, that you like that your best friend hates your twin, but in this case it’s true. It’s nice having someone that saw how horrible Verity really is. Verity is a vicious, nasty piece of work. Not just to me, but to everyone, she just happens to be especially bitchy to me. She’s selfish, makes fun of people behind their backs, calls me names, and plays pranks on me all the time, that aren’t in the least bit funny. For example; last week she put crazy glue in my conditioner. Mom had to take me to the hairdresser and have seven inches cut off my hair to get it out. I cried for days after that because I couldn’t believe she would do something like that to me. Actually, that’s a lie. It wasn’t unbelievable, it was just the first time she’d done something so permanent. Food dye in my conditioner, Saran Wrap on the toilet, oil on the tiles in my bathroom, sure she’d done all of that, and some of it more than once. But all that stuff was superficial. This was my hair, it would take ages to grow back.

What was really weird, was how my parents reacted to her behaviour. They would ground her or take away her TV privileges, but it was like they’d given up on disciplining her almost altogether. If they banned her from TV for two weeks and found her watching it the day after, they let it go, walking away shaking their heads. Verity was getting to the point where she was pretty much out of control. I have no idea what they’re going to do with her if she gets any worse. My parents’ lack of consequences for Verity’s crappy attitude always made me feel like they loved her more than me. I know deep down it wasn’t true, but that’s how I felt. I was only eleven, after all.

The only person Verity’s remotely nice to is Nate.

Nate moved in across the street from us about two years ago. He’s five years older than me, but he quickly became my best friend, other than Carmella that is. Nate listens to me when I whine about Verity. He makes me laugh when I’m sad because all the kids tease me about my hair or my freckles. He’s just always there for me, and I love him for that. About a month ago, when I came home from school upset because Bobby Donaldson called me a ‘spotty red headed freak,’ Nate gave me a big hug, and told me I was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. At the time, I just laughed at him because, come on, let’s face it, Verity looks the exactly same. He’d seen both of us plenty of times so, how could that be true? He said Verity wasn’t even as close to as pretty as I was, and that I should believe him because he’d never lie to me. In fact, promised he never would. At that, I took him at his word because it was true, Nate had never lied to me. EVER. It wasn’t be until three years later he broke that promise…

The birthday party today is going to be painful. I can’t wait until the days over, so much so, I almost wished it would rain. The party being outside will mean my parents will have to cancel it, because there’s no way we can fit fifty to sixty people inside our house all at once.

This morning, we opened our gifts together in the living room. It’s tradition for us to get up, stay in our pyjamas, drink hot chocolate, and do presents as a family. The whole morning is usually just an extension of the Verity show, so I tended to open my gifts quickly leaving them to it. Verity laughed and made fun of my present, just like I knew she would. I don’t know why I bother expecting anything different from her. You would think over the years this has been going on for, her making fun of me and my choices, that I’d learn and not be as disappointed or hurt by her asshole-ness. Clearly not.

Our parents started letting us chose what we want for our birthdays, a few years ago, when Verity had a tantrum, professing to hate everything they brought her. It got to the point where she made such a fuss that Mom and Dad took her out that afternoon and replaced everything with more expensive gifts. See… selfish, ungrateful, nasty bitch!

The ONLY thing I asked for this year is a skateboard. I desperately want Nate to teach me how to do tricks like he does, he’s so good that he makes it look like magic when he rides. I love watching him practice in the afternoons out on street in front of our houses, or down at the local park. When I asked if he’ll teach me, he gave me a huge dimpled smile telling me of course he would. So, my parents got me the skateboard I chose, and it’s perfect. They also purchased all the safety gear to go with it, which I’m not overly impressed with. I don’t want to wear it because I think I’ll look stupid, Nate never wears all that stuff anyway, so why should I? My parents’ tell me that unless I wear the kneepads and helmet, they won’t let me ride. What choice do I have? I put on the safety gear, and try on my new accessory to go with it, humiliation. Yep, fits perfectly.

This year, Verity gets a new CD player, hairdryer, makeup, and a few gift cards to her favourite clothing stores. I know what my parents brought her would have cost a lot more than what they spent on me, I don’t care about that though. I know the only reason they do it is because my sister will have an epic tantrum if she doesn’t get what she wants. Just as I said before, stupid, selfish bitch.

Later in the morning my dad comes into my room to hand me an envelope. I look at him strangely, because this is STRANGE. He just nods at me to open it, with a big smile on his face. I gasp and get up throwing my arms around his waist when I see what’s inside. Mom and dad gave me $100 to buy the books I’ve been saving for by doing extra chores around the house. I have $62.72 saved, but still needed $84 more to get all the ones I wanted. Leaning down my dad kisses me on the head and hugs me back, all while I whispered, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” to him.

He just replied by saying, “Love you, Little Bear. Let’s just keep this between us. Your sister doesn’t need to know about it, okay?” I nod and squeeze him tightly again. Patting my back he leaves and I set about hiding my windfall from Verity.

It’s sad I have to hide it from her. She shouldn’t be in my room to begin with, let alone taking my things, but she’s snuck into my room and stolen money I’ve saved before, so now I knew better. I hide it, rolled up in a sock, inside a boot in the back of my cupboard. She’ll never look there, and she’ll definitely never try to borrow my boots. Verity only ever wears sandals and platform wedge thingys. Everything’s always about appearance with her, and my boots are apparently, “Hideous and more suited to a boy.” Whatever!

Walking out the back door where the party’s set up, I see Verity’s friends arriving. They’re all exactly the same as her; mean, bitchy, girls that hang on my sister’s every word, following her around like the sheep. I swear they’re scared of her. That, or she has something on them she can use to manipulate them. That’s the only reason I can come up with for why they’re so nasty, and willing to do her bidding all the time.

Unfortunately Carmella can’t come today. Her parents have a job helping to produce a record for a local band in Dallas that will last the next three days. My mom said she could stay with us, but Carmella’s mom, Daisy, said she’ll be visiting with her grandma while they’re working. Since Carmella’s grandma hadn’t seen Carmella in months, she had to go. Sighing, I look around at all the balloons, tables overflowing with food, past the pool filled with floating beds and balls, through the streamers and people gathering; to find Nate looking at me with a big, goofy smile on his face.

I run toward him dodging people as I go, and give him a big hug like always. I’ve been hugging Nate since I did it to thank him the first day I met him on the curb in front of my house, two years ago. He had been so nice to me, staying until he was sure I’d stopped crying and made sure I’d be okay. Hugging Nate quickly became one of my favourite things to do. He’s so tall and strong. He has these big arms that wrap around me making me feel like I’m in the safest place in the world. When I met him that day, I knew nothing about him other than; his name was Nate, he moved into Ms. Williams’ old house, and he looked about fourteen or fifteen. There’s one other thing I knew for sure. Nate was a kind, sweet boy, but he looked sad and lost at the same time. His eyes were never carefree and no matter how hard he tried, he never looked truly happy.

I wanted to make friends with him, to see if I could make him laugh, make him smile, and tell him jokes. Most of all, I didn’t want him to be sad anymore. I figured, he definitely couldn’t be lonely if I was his friend. I would make sure I was always there for him, like he was for me that day. The reason for that crap-tastic day was; Verity decided it would be a great idea to put worms in my sandwich for school. I opened my lunch box in the cafeteria and had gone to take a bite of my PB&J before realising what she’d done. I screamed so loudly it made my own ears ring, dropping the sandwich immediately. It gets worse; in doing so, fell backwards and hit my head on the floor making my vision blurry and my head ache. Verity and her friends all pointed and laughed. I felt like an idiot. I’d been crying since, well until I met Nate on the curb that afternoon.

From that day on, every time he saw me out the front, he came over and rode his skateboard with me while I rode my bike. He was trying to make sure I was okay, I knew that, and thought it was very sweet of him. Basically, Nate was like a big brother to me. A GOOD big brother, not one of those horrible ones you hear about, and nothing like my sister. The only problem with Nate acting like my big brother was; I thought he was the most beautiful boy in the world. More than that, I started looking at him more like a gorgeous specimen of man as I grew older. Definitely not the way I would look at a brother if I had one. That would be disgusting and incestuous. Ewww.

I told myself if I ever get married, I’ll want it to be to someone that looks and is, just like Nate. There isn’t one thing about Nate I don’t love. I realise that I view him through the eyes and naivety of a little girl, but I simply don’t care. I love my best friend.

Nate has gorgeous, thick black hair. It’s so dark it looks like it has a tinge of blue running through it. Just recently he started having cut and styled in a Mohawk that stands about three inches above his scalp. His beautiful green eyes look like the moss that covering the rocks at the swimming hole we go to. They are deep, clear, and hypnotising. He is so tall already too; he must be at least six foot, with no sign of his growth slowing down, either. Nate said he’s working out, that’s why he has muscles on top of muscles. He’s doing Karate and Jujitsu at the local martial arts centre, so he can become faster, stronger, and more disciplined. I know why he does it, I don’t like that he has to. But I understand. His dad is really horrible to him all the time. I’ve seen Nate with black eyes, bruises on his face and arms more often than I care to remember. I’ve never outright asked about them, because it makes a look come over Nate’s face that makes me realise I’ll never get an answer, so why bother. I know exactly what’s happening to him, it doesn’t take a genius to work it out. The thought makes me furiously angry and incredibly sad, but I keep my mouth shut, and have a small first aid kit under my bed, in case he needs it.