Atlas Grove, once a dancer with dreams of dancing under the stars, now lives petrified in the shadows of abuse. To escape her living nightmare she must keep her head down and work hard, being her senior year this is her last chance to get out. Altho...
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"You alright bubba?" My nana startles me, causing me to drop the bowl I was washing back into the dirty dishwater. I've been lumped with cleaning up the dishes and cooking stuff after Thanksgiving dinner although I don't mind that much, I'm in an overly social mood anyway. What with my dad constantly trying to contact me, what my mom said about Atlas and having still not heard anything from Alabama I'm not great company this thanksgiving. I know I probably sound like a moany bitch especially when I'm meant to be thankful for everything today but I just feel stressed. I've been going down to Jacks a lot more frequently to try and relieve the rage-filled tension but nothing's working at the moment... nothing except a text...
A simple 'happy thanksgiving :) x' text from Blondie this morning. For those few seconds it flashed across the screen I felt slightly lighter and allowed a small smile to grace my face.
But then again, that simple text adds more stress to how I feel, I shouldn't be feeling like this around a girl, especially one who just text me! I've fucked tones of girls and never felt like this. I don't fucking like it. I haven't even slept with Atlas and she pulls this much from me!
My nana rubs her hand on my back comfortingly and looks at me with concern ridden eyes. I miss my nana and grandpa most from New York, I miss watching the games with grandpa and I miss helping nana cook. We'd spend hours around theirs just watching the football and cooking, making happy memories, they spoiled us constantly and actually, they still do.
"Leave the dishes Blazey and sit down with me." I place the last dish on the draining board and slump into a chair around the kitchen island with a huff. "Alright tell nana what's wrong? You've been very spaced out all day... you didn't even have seconds of my casserole." She looks solemnly at me since she knows I always end up eating most of the thanksgiving food, with the appetite of a football player, it's hardly my fault I need more energy. It's like cooking for elephants with me and grandpa at the table.
"Sorry, nana... I didn't mean to be rude, I love seeing you I just have a lot on my mind right now." I sigh running a hand through my hair. She places her cold hand on my arm, her bangles clank against my rings.
"You're not being rude baby, we know all the pressure you're under," She smiles sweetly. My nana has a warm face, her silver hair is cut into a shoulder-length bob that swings against her oversized necklaces, her face is aged but she still looks younger than she is - probably due to the extensive skincare routine she follows considering the fact she used to be an actress and her skin was on show a lot, she's taken care of it. Her cheeks are bright without the need of blush and sit nicely with her famous line of red lipstick, as she says she's not sixty-one years old, she's sixty-one years young, "Is it about football?"
"Partly I guess." I shrug, it's not that I don't want to talk to her but I just hate talking about my feelings, they're easier to be manipulated once their out in the open.
"Listen, son, don't stress yourself out about it," My grandpa walks into the room also looking very young for his age, he still has a full head of black hair, only a few stands turning grey and has an incredible physique for a sixty-five-year-old. Again helped by his career, like me he played in the NFL for a little bit before he got an injury and ended up coaching the big college and NFL teams, he's one of my inspirations- the reason I wanted to go into the NFL, "They'll rarely send out offers this early, you already know they're interested in you and I guarantee they'll be scouts at a game this season!" He sits down opposite us clamping a large hand on my shoulder.
