THRUST

Chapter One

I bring myself out of my reverie as I lock Charlie's door. Once in my car, I grab the GPS and punch in the address, pressing go while calling Jess.

On the drive there, I tell her where I'm headed.

"You can't go there by yourself," she says.

It's a place I'd only heard about through phone calls with Jess, before. A place that I'm told is dangerous and will make me feel out of place. I've only seen it in my head and only know about it from the stories Jess's told me over the years. Stories she isn't even supposed to know.

"Hey," I speak gently, "They don't know me... it'll be fine, Jess." I giggle at her serious tone, "I just want to see what he looks like now."

"I've told you what he looks like now!"

"That's not the same, you know that! And besides, it's been a month since the funeral. This is apparently the only way. I mean, you even said it, that he barely gets away from that place." She's silent... I can sense the steady stream of thoughts— all the worst possible scenarios that must be running through her mind as I speak up again, "Come on, Jess. I just want to see for myself... I'll be safe."

She ignores me, finishing her sentiments, "You have to be careful, Bella."

A bug splats on my windshield and I check to make sure I've got the GPS volume up. The robotic voice confirms I've missed a turn and prompts me to turn around.

She's not happy about my choice of destination, it's clear in her rushed words, her serious tone.

"Don't talk to any of those guys. I mean it, they're dangerous."

I find the first street to my left and make a quick turn there.

"And call me when you leave and don't have more than one drink," she quickly spills out her motherly demands before I hang up the phone with an unaffected tone, "I love you, Jess. I'm already missing turns so I gotta go... I'll call you when I leave."

The drive there is quick, just nine minutes from Charlie's house and I take in the sunny day. The hills are dusty and plush, giving way to the vast flat land and the breeze blows through my fingers as I cruise down the road.

A few short minutes later the GPS announces, "Destination is on your left," as I roll out of my daydream where Jacob recognizes me and comes to welcome me with a safe hug and a warm smile.

I squeeze the wheel to turn into a large, gravel drive beneath a big sign that says THE CLUBHOUSE at the top of a tall, steel pole.

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.

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Moving back to San Ansvaro, California after living out middle school, high school and my twenty-second birthday, in Arizona, is quite a change but I'm cool with it.

San An is a quaint little place nestled into the valley, with lush greenery, calm blue skies, and a charming population of just over four thousand. Here, everyone knows everyone, and no-one is really into the materialistic facade like so much of Peterson, Arizona was. You won't find people obsessed with "keeping up with the Joneses" in San An— in fact, half of the people here didn't even go to college.

My dad was kind of grandfathered into the police force and didn't need a degree anyway, Renee didn't go to college and so... I carried on the tradition.

From separate states, my parents kept assuring me that they could make it work no matter what, but when I heard discussions of a second mortgage and things of that nature, there was no decision for me to make. College was out of the question for me. Unless I wanted to work at a place like The Clubhouse late at night.