Teach Me To Live (Teach Me - Book One) (18 page)

Mom was looking at the drive where Austin disappeared with a sort of curious expression that made my heart pound hard and rapidly in my chest. I waited nervously for her to tear her eyes away from the empty driveway to look at me. When she did, I expected there to be anger in her eyes, but there wasn’t. There was a kind of acceptance in the golden depths that made me wonder what had changed. But I couldn’t make myself form words.

Finally, she spoke. Her words shocked me. “Will you join me for a coffee?”

I blinked. Had I heard her right?

At the questioning look in her gaze, I nodded. “Sure.”

She gestured to the patio table with a small smile and I stuttered as my steps slowed, but she spoke before I did. “I’ll be right back with the French Press.”

I lowered myself onto the green cushioned chair by the patio table before tracing my fingertips over the wicker of the table leg. When Mom appeared once again, holding a tray with a full French Press and two mugs, cream and sugar, I stiffened in my chair.

“How are you this morning?” She asked almost hesitantly as her eyes lifted to watch my reply.

I frowned, but replied. “I’m okay.”

“Just okay?” She tilted her head to the side, a slight frown playing at her lips.

“I’m good, Mom.” I promised, busying myself with my coffee.

“You spent the night at that boy’s house?” She was asking the question, but we both knew the answer.

“His name is Austin,” I smiled softly at the memory of last night. “And I did—stay there—last night.”

She nodded. “He’s quite an attractive man, Madison.”

Surprised, I asked, “You think so?”

She laughed. “I do have eyes.”

“But he’s,” I paused. “He’s different than—Dad.”

“He’s not the country club boy I always hoped you’d fall for, Madison, but Austin is a looker,” she admitted, shrugging. “Even I can’t deny that.”

Almost wistfully, I replied. “I love his eyes. They are this deep blue, Mom. I get lost in them.”

Realizing what I’d just said, and how excitedly I had said it, to Mom, of all people, I stiffened.

My words didn’t seem to make her uncomfortable, though. Instead, she looked almost like she was fighting a war between happy and sad. It was weird.

“Is he a nice boy, Madison?”

Blushing, I nodded. “Very nice.”

She sighed. “I have to ask because I am your mother,” she shifted, seeming uncomfortable. “Are you being safe, darling?”

“Safe?” I frowned. Realization set in and I felt my face heat as my mouth dropped. Horrific visions of sex education and bananas and condoms came to mind. I felt a little like dying. “Mom, we’re not—we aren’t doing—
that.
”

She laughed, looking somewhat relieved. “You might not be having sex yet, but with eyes that blue . . .” She teased. “It’s only a matter of time, darling.”

My face was more than just a little red. Actually, I was pretty sure that it was the shade of the deepest, most brilliant red rose. This. Was. Awful.

I can’t believe I was having this discussion with my mother! Oh, my God—my perfect prim mother . . .

I repeated my thought aloud. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”

She took a sip of her coffee, shrugging. “I’ve realized these past few weeks, that you’re growing older. You’re a woman and it’s unfair and unrealistic of your father and I to expect you not to desire your freedom. But please, Madison, be smart about the freedom you’re taking. You still have your whole life ahead of you. The decisions you make now will affect you for years to come. Make them wisely and always be true to yourself.”

“I know, Mom.” I winced at the question I wanted to ask and the possibility of her answer. “Does,” I paused to gather both a breath and my courage. “Does D-Dad know I wasn’t home last night?”

She shook her head. “No, he most certainly does not.”

I sighed, admitting. “He’s really angry with me.”

“He’s not angry, honey.” Her voice was soft. “He’s terrified.”

“Of what?” I scoffed.

“Of losing his baby girl.” She reached across the table to squeeze my hand. “Of watching her lose her heart to a boy he doesn’t know. Of watching her grow up.”

“I’m always going to be his daughter.” My words were nothing more than a whisper.

“You’re right, Madison,” she nodded. “You’ll always be his daughter, but you’re a woman now and he’s struggling with the fact that to him, you are, and will always be, his baby girl.”

Tears were misting in my eyes as I took in her words. It was in that moment that I realized I wasn’t the only one struggling. My parent’s were struggling too.

“I’m sorry,”

“I know. I am too, honey,” she smiled and I felt warmed. “Just don’t shut us out of your life. And give your father time to adapt. We know the male species takes longer than their female counterparts when it comes to gracefully accepting change.”

I laughed, feeling a weight lift at the ease in my heart. “I promise I won’t shut you out.”

After talking with Mom, I wasted no time in changing into a bikini and diving into the pool. It wasn’t even noon and the sun was already blisteringly hot. I liked the heat, but when it was hot like this, I liked to be in as little clothing as possible. A bathing suit was about as close to no clothing as one could get without being inappropriate, or getting hit with a charge for public indecency.

I was trying to change my life, but I wasn’t about getting myself a record. Being raised in a family of law, I was more than aware of the troubles that having a record can bring. Travel becomes difficult provided you’re unable to apply for a waiver, and on top of that, you must first pay and wait for said waiver to be approved, to which there is never a guarantee. Being that I wanted to live my life, a record was out of the question and that meant that streaking was also out of the question despite how sickeningly hot it is outside and how very appealing the thought of stripping down to nothing would be at this very moment.

Glancing at the poolside chair I left my phone on, I pushed forward through the water. My phone chirped, alerting me to a new text message. Being that I had very close to no friends, I figured the message was more than likely from Austin. This made my heart flutter because I wasn’t nearly ready for him to pick me up. When he’d said he was going to spend a few hours at the shop today with his Dad, I figured that meant he was actually going to spend a few hours at the shop with his Dad—working. I figured I had time to lounge around. I also figured I had time to reflect on the events of last night, and how Austin and I had crossed another line in our relationship.

I mean, the man had made me come . . .

And it was blissfully amazing. It was an out of body experience if there ever was one. I’d felt the fire of his touch lick me from head to toe. Inside and out. It had burned, and burned, and burned, a sweet licking of flames throughout every inch of my body, before there was an explosion. And oh, my heaven, the explosion was a delicious one at that. It was the kind of explosion that is relief and pressure at once. It is a high one can only feel before they jump, but it was also the sensation of freefalling. It was such a beautiful abundance of feeling and sensation, I really didn’t know if I possessed the ability to reflect. And if I could reflect, I knew I couldn’t do what had been the magnificence of last night, the justice it deserved.

Austin was quickly coming to mean so much to me. Even my own mother could see it. And she seemed to accept it for all that it was, which made me so happy. Truly, knowing that my own mother wanted me to be happy was a beautiful relief. Now, I only needed to find a way to break through to my father. I understood what Mom was saying about how he didn’t want to lose his baby girl, but I wasn’t a baby anymore. I wasn’t even a little girl. I was a woman. I was nearing on nineteen years old, and I was aching to experience all that I had yet to know.

I hadn’t experienced
anything.
I hadn’t experienced anything at all.

Lifting myself from the side of the pool, I moved quickly to the chair where my phone and journal were sitting beneath the towel where they were protected from the beaming rays of the sun. I tapped the screen of my phone, smiling at the sight of Austin’s name. I opened his message and my heart fluttered again.

Austin:
I’ll be by around 4 to pick you up for tonight.

Me:
K. I’ll be ready.

Austin:
Everything OK? Saw your mom when I was leaving.

Me:
Yeah, everything is good. See you later. XXX

Austin:
Cute. See you later, sweetheart.

Austin made me smile. All. The. Time.

It was that thought that had me sitting back in the chair and pulling my journal into my lap. With the mid July sun kissing my wet skin, warming me from head to toe, I began to write.

Dear Diary,

I should have known when I first met Austin that he would be the one who tested the very way I saw life. I should have known at the sound of his first word to me, that he would be the one who challenged my every view. I should have suspected, the very first time that my eyes connected with his—I would be gone.

I’m falling in love with Austin Weir and it’s crazy, really, because it’s only been two weeks that I’ve actually spent with him. I first saw Austin in the last week of June. All my finals were finished and I was officially a high school graduate—looking into applying for University. I should have been proud of myself then, but I hadn’t been. I’d been suffocating. And then there he was with those great big blue eyes and his bad boy aura. Goodness, he has such a delicious bad boy aura, but like Mom said, he wasn’t the country club boy everyone saw me falling for. He was nothing like the man I should be wanting to bring home and experience all those beautiful firsts with. But he was. Austin, in all his unsuspecting wildness was everything that I wanted, but never even suspected I needed.

I saw Austin Weir in the last week of June. For eight days, I avoided him with every power I possessed. He’d terrified me because he confronted all the bullshit that was the wall of defense I had built around myself. Ironically, though, was the fact that Austin was the one I called when it all crumbled down around my feet. Austin was the one who saved me.

Since I first saw Austin, three weeks and one day have passed. Already, I know I’m falling in love with him. Already, I know I need him.

In three weeks and one day—that’s twenty-two days—my heart has weakened for him. My defenses have shattered and my very soul aches for him. In twenty-two days, I’ve fallen in love.

I love Austin Weir.

I placed my pink pen in the crease of my journal, marking the page, before closing the visual I had on my thoughts and feelings. I’ve just realized that not only am I falling for Austin, but that I have already fallen.

I’ve never been in love. I’ve never had my heart broken or even really bothered much with crushing on a boy. I’ve always thought myself better off alone, never wanting to take the chance that I could get myself hurt by another. I never suspected Austin would be the man I fell for. I never suspected that I’d fall for the bad boy kind of guy. Really, I wasn’t so clichéd. Or I thought I wasn’t anyway. Clearly, I’m wrong.

I am that clichéd. And I really don’t care. Because I’m in love. This, loving another, is another first. Unsurprisingly, Austin is owning every one of my firsts. Really, I wouldn’t change that. Not for anything.