Everyone has problems, a concern and circumstances that cannot be dealt with openly. Whether it be mental illness, absent parents, or a stalker who won't stop blowing up your phone; the Earth keeps on turning. Time keeps on ticking, and we just have...
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I stared at the rippling wall of muscle before me, pressing him back toward the shed in my backyard despite the fact that the water droplets glistening on his sculpted abs were making me dizzy. "I said hide," I hissed, pouting out my lip before purring, "You don't want her to catch us, do you?" By her, I meant my mother, whose car I had heard pull up in the driveway moments ago. She was supposed to be at work all day, and I was supposed to be home alone.
It seemed that neither of those things had happened.
He frowned slightly, his brows drawing together, and sighed. "Okay, fine." His name was Aaron. Or was it Alex? I didn't really know if I was being entirely honest. We'd met at a big party a few weeks ago and had ended up lip-locked on the sofa by the end of the night. We'd hung out a bit since then. I wouldn't call it a relationship... It wasn't going anywhere like that.
I guess by most standards, he'd be a dreamboat, and I couldn't say I minded the view. Not only that, but boy, could he kiss. The ever-pressing problem was that the guy was a snooze fest supreme. It was a bit like having a pet rock. I could talk to him for hours, but I'd never get anything substantial back.
After shutting the shed door behind him, I rushed back over to one of the lounge chairs by the pool and tossed myself across it, closing my eyes and trying to make it look as if I hadn't moved an inch in hours. I dropped my eyelids and lay there pretending that I'd dozed off. I heard the scrape of the glass door for that led out to our backyard slide open about a minute later, followed by scuffle of my mother's heels against the cement as she moved closer.
"Vicenta Lucia Arana! What in God's name are you wearing?" Her voice grated against my ears, and I bolted up, turning my head quickly in her direction.
"Mom?" I squinted my eyes against the sun, playing it off as if I was confused to see her and a bit drowsy. "What are you doing here?"
"I won't ask again, Vicenta." She shook her head softly and smoothed back her inky black hair. "What are you wearing? It's indecent!" She waved her hands at my bare torso, glowering over my blue and black tribal print bikini.
I glanced down at myself to see what she was fussing about. "It's just a swimsuit, Mom." I rolled my eyes dramatically before standing up and crossing my arms over my chest. Little did she know, this was actually one of my more 'practical' swimsuits. What Mama didn't know wouldn't kill her.
"A swimsuit? You look like you're wearing dental floss! It barely even covers your chest." She spoke rapidly, her words sliding together as she went rampant. "Showing so much skin, you should be ashamed, Vicenta! Where is that nice bathing suit I bought you last year?"
"You mean the trash bag with holes for my arms and legs?" I scoffed remembering the conservative black one-piece she'd forced upon me when I went to a friend's pool party sophomore year.
Needless to say, that wasn't what I showed up in. Obviously.
My mom's hands fell to her hips, and she stared at me with that face she always used when she thought I was taking it too far. It reminded me a bit of a baby corgi trying to be scary. It just didn't work. "I've had a rough day, Vicenta. I suggest you change your tone, now."
