stared at Brent the sailboat a little longer before asking, “So where are you going?”
“We are going sailing.”
“We?” I was somewhat surprised. Doesn’t Brent know that my mother would say no to this indefinetly?
“Yes we. Is there a problem?”
“It’s just…I don’t think Mother will approve.”
Brent rolled his eyes, “Don’t think about what she wants. What do you want?” You, I thought to myself. I sighed, “How do I get down? There’s no way my mother will allow me to do this.” Brent moved closer to the balconey, “Jump.”
“What?!” I cried in fright.
“Relax, I’ll catch you,” Brent held his arms out. At first I was unsure…until I saw the big yet lean muscles flex under the skin of his arms. “Ok,” I agreed nervously.
raised my legs up and over the balconey until I was on the other side, holding on tightly. It kind of made me think of that scene from Titanic, you know the one where Jack and Rose first meet. “You’ll be perfectly fine. I’m right here.” Brent called.
I took a deep breath and jumped off, a scream bubbling out of me on the way down.
But Brent caught me, just like he said, “That wasn’t so hard now was it?” He smiled dazzingly and I was lost…until I heard my front door open, “Oh my God, hide!” I tore (reluctantly) from Brent’s warm arms and hid in the bushes that lined my house. “Jameson!” I heard my mom cry, “Jameso-you!” My mom hissed while pointing at Brent, “What have you done with my daughter?!”
“You damn well did something you son of a bitch. Now. What. Did. You. Do. To. Her?!”
Brent shrugged, “I haven’t seen your daughter in nine years, and now you’re saying I’ve done something to her?”
“Shut up. You have been an issue to my family for years. You are a failure,” My mother spat on the ground and slammed the door shut, the sound making me wince. I immediatly rushed to Brent’s side, as if he was a magnet, “Brent I’m so sorry about my mother. She’s a total bitch.”
“Aww don’t say that about your mother. And I’m fine. Totally used to it by now,” He words didn’t read true in his eyes, I could tell. He began twisting his lip ring back and forth with his tongue, seeming to try and focus on that more than me.
After a minute or two he turned back to me, smiling, “Ready to go now?”
I smiled big, “Of course.”
I recalled of back when my family owned our small yacht. It was a sailboat, and I loved it dearly. But like most things I have loved, my mother took it away, saying we didn’t have the money for it. Which I knew was a lie. Only our money could afford my mother’s terrible clothing bill.