Another pic from the shoot and another chapter Chapter 6 L..

Another pic from the shoot and another chapter

Chapter 6

Lunch — I mean, dinner — was excellent today. After all, it was one of my favorites, and it was nice to sit and talk with my parents for a while. It was a pleasant distraction. They mostly asked about school. You know, the same old questions about my classes, how my friends are, what do I do outside of classes and practice. My answers were filled with sunshine and rainbows, all the things parents like to hear…and sometimes partial truths. They don’t need to know everything, after all.
Then my mom told my dad about how I fell in the creek this morning and came back looking like a swamp monster. I wasn’t pleased with this change in subject, but I could tell that her analogy made her feel clever, so I gave her a giggle in support. My dad, however, raised his eyebrows in curiosity, so I explained how I was sort of playing the game mom and I used to play over the bridge, about how my stick got stuck, and then pretty much stuck to the story I told mom when I first got home. When I mentioned the part about Frank giving me a shirt, my dad’s eyebrows dropped into a frown.
“You shouldn’t change clothes in front of that man.” He surprised me with his tone, but I knew he was just being protective of me.
“Well, jeez, Dad, I didn’t change in front of him!” I was trying not to break into a sweat as I was lying the entire sentence coming out of my mouth.
“Oh, come on, Jonathan, she’s smarter than that.”
My mom always defended me to my dad, even over things she may have already chewed me out for. She maintained being the sole disciplinarian, but only because when it came time for my dad to learn of my mistakes, she made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal. Like the first time I ever got a speeding ticket, 4 years ago. According to the officer, I was going almost thirty over the speed limit (which I still believe was false, but I won’t get into that), so they took my license and gave me a court date. She ripped me a new one over the phone, after I called her crying to tell her what happened, swearing up and down that I was going to be grounded and not be allowed to drive for two weeks. Of course that punishment never came to fruition. She wasn’t that cruel. After all, a new teenage driver getting a ticket wasn’t unusual or particularly devastating in the scheme of things. Although, during that phone call, she made me feel like I just mowed down 10 puppies intentionally with my Pontiac Grand Am. But when it came time to face the music with my dad, she was at the ready with a snappy “Johnathan, calm down, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a ticket.” God bless that woman.
My mom sticking up for me about taking Frank’s shirt shut my dad up. I think most of the time he just doesn’t care enough to get into it further. He’s a good problem solver, but not a good “problem” solver, if you know what I mean. Give him anything physical to repair, from a leaky faucet to a busted belt in a half-million dollar combine, and he’s got it covered. But come to him with a broken heart, or drama with kids at school, and he’s out. Which is totally fine with me. The downside is that my mom takes the brunt of everyone’s stress and wears it as her own. Which is why I chose to lie to her, and that’s led her to defend the lie for me — a lie she doesn’t know is a lie, and I feel kinda shitty about that. The woman who has always known me better than I know myself, doesn’t fully anymore. It would break her heart to know that, because it breaks mine a little, too.
I helped my mom clean up after lunch, threw my dirty laundry in the wash, including the clothes from my adventures this morning, and decided to cut the grass again. I wanted the alone time and it was due to be done again, anyway. That walk up to the machine shed again gave me so much anxiety, but no one was there this time and I was able to finish without any…distractions.
Now, I’m standing in the bathroom again, after taking a shower for the second time today. I know what you’re thinking and no, I didn’t perform an encore of my daydream from earlier. Not this time. Once today was about all I could take. Block it out of your brain, Fiona.
I stare at myself in the mirror again and give myself a good look top-to-bottom. I watch how the warm white light from the fixtures above, mixed with the orange glow that’s permeating through the sheer bathroom window curtains from the setting sun outside, illuminates my skin, accentuating all of its peaks and valleys. I slowly turn in a circle, keeping my eyes on the mirror.
My skin looks so soft in this light, so feminine. I mean, I know I’m a female, and a girly-girl at that, who loves to wear tiny clothes and high heels, but typically when I see myself, I see the athlete in me. I focus on how toned my arms are, the plumpness of my ass, the firmness of my abs and the muscular definition that runs down my thighs. But right now, I’m only paying attention to how full my breasts actually are (albeit on the smaller side), the way they subtly jiggle with each soft step, the arch of my spine as I pop my ass out a little further, and then down to where the bottom of my cheeks tuck under. The way their slope irresistibly compels attention to the warm, moist place that hides in the shadow below. The place where just a slight bend forward can reveal all of its secrets, its vulnerabilities. Something so sensitive and desirable, concealed by such a simple camouflage. It makes me feel kind of powerful.
With a smirk to myself, I wrap my towel around me and head to my bedroom. I must have been in the bathroom awhile, because it’s already almost dark now and when I grab my phone off of my desk and flip it open, there’s a missed text message from Brad: Will b home this wknd. Rdy to tlk? Luv u
Ugh, no. I’m not ready to talk. I told him we’d talk at the end of summer. He’s the last thing I want to worry about right now. I send back: We’ll see. Might be busy. Let u know. I throw my phone back down on the desk. Today is a Wednesday, so I’m guessing he’s coming back either Friday night or Saturday morning. I’ve got a couple of days before I have to give him a straight answer.
I head to my closet to grab some clothes and a bright light suddenly floods across the closet doors. What the hell? I turn around and notice it’s coming from my north-facing window. The curtains are still open. Whoops. I walk over to shut them, and freeze. It’s the headlights of a truck that’s backed up to the hay barn, which is in the direct sightline of my room. The headlights shut off and I see Frank stepping out of the truck. He pauses with the door still open and turns in my direction. It looks like he’s staring right at my window.
I snap out of my trance and quickly pull the curtains shut. That was close. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid, but it did look like he was looking at me, and here I am, still standing in my towel. Girl, get dressed already.
I’m staying in for the night, so I just throw on some comfy Abercrombie & Fitch booty shorts and a fitted tank top, before plopping down in my desk chair and flipping open my laptop. I need to plan something fun to do this weekend in order to avoid me eting up with Brad, so I open up my AOL Instant Messenger to see who’s online. But before I even start scrolling through the screen names to see who’s tagged as online, a message pops up from my life-long best friend, Emily, and I am SO freaking excited to see it:

Hanson4Eva: Heeeey slut! U back home yet??
Foxxygirl32: LOL…yeah, I’ve been back for almost a couple weeks!
Hanson4Eva: WHAT! And u didn’t TELL ME?? WTH is wrong w/ u!
Foxxygirl32: I know, sry! Just been super busy!
Hanson4Eva: It’s cool, I get it. Gotta catch up with the fam. It’s not like I’m ur sister or anything.

Emily and I call each other sisters, since we’ve been friends long enough that we might as well be. She’s attending college at a nearby university, about thirty minutes away, while mine is over two and a half hours away, so we don’t get to see each other often. She’s studying business and is an excellent photographer, so I think she’s hoping to start her own photography studio one day. Oh wait— photography — that gives me an idea.

Foxxygirl32: What r u doing this weekend?
Hanson4Eva: I’m free as a nudist’s balls in July.
Foxxygirl32: LOL…U still do photography?
Hanson4Eva: Of course.
Foxxygirl32: Could I maybe do a photoshoot this weekend with u?
Hanson4Eva: Like…of u??
Foxxygirl32: Uhh, yeah, of me.
Hanson4Eva: Sweet! U want like a boudoir kinda thing? Maybe something to give Brad for his bday? *winky face emoji*
Foxxygirl32: Um, no. We’re not 2gether right now.
Hanson4Eva: I know.
Foxxygirl32: WTH, then why did u say that??
Hanson4Eva: Cuz it’s easy to screw w/ u and it’s funny! LOL!
Foxxygirl32: *tongue sticking out emoji*

Ok, here goes nothing. I type and hit send before I change my mind:

Foxxygirl32: I wanna do a really sexy farm girl photoshoot.
Hanson4Eva: Like for real?? How sexy are we talking?
Foxxygirl32: Can u do it?
Hanson4Eva: Hell yeah! We can do it all artistic and shit. Can I use it in my portfolio?
Foxxygirl32: That’s fine, I guess. I don’t care.
Hanson4Eva: Do U want to use any props?
Foxxygirl32: I don’t know what that means.
Hanson4Eva: U don’t know what a prop is?
Foxxygirl32: Lol, I know what a prop is. I mean like what kind?
Hanson4Eva: Don’t worry. I got ideas. Ooh, I love this! Let’s do it this Saturday. Wanna use ur farm for it?

I look over at the window I just closed the curtains to. I wonder if Frank is still out there.

Foxxygirl32: No, I’d rather not.
Hanson4Eva: Ok, I get that. Then come to my house. I’ve got a great spot!

I love that she isn’t asking too many questions about my request, but I know she will, once I see her in person. She’s saving it for when she has me trapped and I can’t just log out of the chat and pretend my internet connection dropped. I wish we could do that in real life, sometimes.
We set up a time for Saturday evening, at seven p.m., because she wants to get set up in plenty of time to catch the “magic hour” or whatever. We’re chatting about nonsense for a little longer and off to the side of our chat, in the main AIM user list, I see a user pop online: Ty2002.
I stare at the screen name for a while, remembering back to when I had a crush on Tyler in high school and I’d spend hours chatting with him. He had a crush on me too, and was actually in my car with me when I got that speeding ticket I mentioned. I was freaking out and he tried to calm me down, swearing the officer would just give me a warning since I was a pretty girl and a new driver with nothing on my record. Boy was he wrong, and ironically, he’s now studying criminal justice in school with the hope of becoming a police officer. Anyway, back then, he went to a different high school than me, which complicated how often we could see each other, plus he was going to eventually go to the same nearby college Emily is and I was going to be moving away. But even before that could happen, Brad entered the picture, so things with Tyler just dissipated. I wonder if he’s still single.
What the hell. I click his username to open a chat window and send the first message: Hey stranger, long time no chat. Then I return to chatting with Emily.
Not even 30 seconds later, I hear the ping of a new message: Holy shit, hey Fiona! What’s up?
Well, I’ll be damned. I make small talk with him about school and family and whatnot, and then he actually asks me first if I’d want to catch up in person.
I think about it for a minute. I don’t want to respond too quickly or seem too eager, but it would be kind of nice to go on a date with another guy and what better way to do that than with a guy I already know and used to like. I decide to take him up on his offer.

Foxxy32: Sure, that sounds great.
Ty2002: Sweet! At our old spot on Friday? Around six?
Foxxy32: That’s perfect.
Ty2002: Can’t wait. *winky face emoji*

He winky faced me. Maybe he’s the more eager one. The thought makes me smile, as I close out both of my chats, grab my copy of P.S. I Love You by Cecilia Ahern from the desk, and sprawl out on my bed. A little reading before bed sounds great right now.
I flip the book open to my bookmark. Holly has just received the package of letters from her deceased husband Gerry, in which he’s giving her a new adventure to do every month for the rest of the year following his death, to help her cope with losing him. Wow, how freaking thoughtful. The dude was dying and still showed so much concern for his wife’s well-being after his passing.
I know for a fact that’s not something Brad would do. He’s only upset about our “break” because he doesn’t like the thought of being alone. It doesn’t matter that it’s me he’s losing. In the past, when we’d take a break and get back together, and he felt confident that I was sticking around, he’d go back to his old shit of ditching me for his buddies because he didn’t want to get made fun of for being “whipped”. That’s such a lame, juvenile thing for friends to pull, too, and I resent them for it. They just do it because they can’t keep a girl and they’re jealous, but he falls for it and I hate it. He changed his whole style, how he speaks and how he treated me, just to fit in with them. He’d say it’s no big deal, but all I could see was a manchild more concerned with fitting in than nurturing his relationship with supposedly the person he wants to end up with forever. I’d tell him that he’s changed and isn’t the guy I started dating 5 years ago and that I don’t want this “new’ version. We’d end up in a fight, some things would get broken, and I’d call for the break. Then he’d get all upset and start begging me back — and the cycle has continued, over and over. I don’t know why I’ve kept getting back with him in the past. I know a big part of it is that I haven’t really found anything better. We have a ton of history up to this point and it just becomes easier to stick with the person I know than to start over with someone new. Plus, I guess I’ve always held on to the hope that this is all a phase and I’ll get the old Brad back at some point. They do say boys mature slower than girls, so it makes me feel like some patience, on my part, is due. But it’s been three years of this, so how long is long enough?
It started when he left for college a year before I did. I was still a high schooler while he went off to be the big college guy. I can admit that I had a lot of insecurity with that. It was tough being two and a half hours away in a rinky-dink town while he was off on a big college campus talking to college girls. That’s when things started changing. He started calling me less, lying to me about where he was or who he was with and it started p*ssing me off. We somehow made it through that year still together, but then once it was my turn to join him there, he flipped and got super-clingy. At first I was excited, because I felt like he must have missed me so much that he was happy to finally have me on campus with him and the fact that he wanted to spend all of his time with me made me feel secure in the thought that he hadn’t found someone better to leave me for. But then, it got stifling. I was trying to make friends with my teammates and get into my own routine, and he didn’t like that. I realized then, that his being clingy wasn’t necessarily because he loved me and just wanted my company. He was the one worried I’d find someone else. So, there we were again, fighting. We just couldn’t get it together and we’d spend most of our time taking turns trying to get back at the other person for their insecurities. So I called it off again, and here we are.
I know he’s going to be pissed if he finds out I’m going on a date with Tyler.
Good. Let him be.
I mean, it’s not like an official “date” I guess, but to me, getting together with a guy who sent you a winky face sure sounds like a date. I’m really looking forward to it, too. I could use the distraction from Brad, the farm (whatever the fuck that stuff is all about) and just let myself be free for a little bit. Tyler’s really cute too. I need a pretty face to look at, especially after this morning’s…uh…run-in with Frank. Don’t even go there again, Fiona.
Oh! Then Saturday — the photoshoot! I know Emily is going to grill me about why I want to do it, since this is a first for me, so I need to be prepared with answers. That is, if i don’t chicken out on it. It’s just…these past couple of days, I’ve discovered a side to me that I hadn’t explored yet. Something about expressing my sexual appeal is exhilarating and I want to capture it. This gives me a chance to explore that in a controlled environment, and I think it’ll be awesome. If I follow through with it. I can’t tell her everything that led me to being curious about this all of a sudden, so I don’t know…I’ll think of something.
It looks like reading just isn’t in the cards for me tonight. My brain can’t focus on it, so I put the book down and run out to say goodnight to my mom, as I always do, before snuggling in under my covers and turning off the bedside lamp.
As I let myself settle into sleepiness, I stare out the east bedroom window which is next to my bed. It overlooks the pasture behind the house — the one that leads down the hill to the creek and continues on the other side of it. It’s a view that’s always given me comfort as I fall asleep. I’m not so sure it has the same effect now. Or if it ever will again.