Jangles

Chapter 2: Stumbling Across a Bucket of Fate

Chapter 2: Stumbling Across a Bucket of Fate

I woke up to sunlight bleeding through the sheer white curtains Mom had bought for Dakota to “remind him of her.” He was too cheap to replace them with something manlier and more importantly, darker. I glanced at the annoying clock ticking steadily on the wall; 7:30. I was never awake this early during the summer. I buried my head into the fluffy pillow, in hopes of keeping my sleeping schedule constant.

                Then I heard a loud, shrilly voice. “See you later, babes. Are you sure you don’t want to have breakfast together?”

                Cayden was the first thing that came to mind. The second was that I was going to kill him for messing up my slumber routine. Not only was it too early for me to be irritated, the voice was especially horrible. No one should have to deal with that. I get that sex is pleasurable and all of that jazz, but how did they manage to do it with her? I imagine that her moans would get so unbearable that you’d have to shove cotton balls down her throat to silence her. But that was violent and probably illegal.

                “I—uh—no. I think I’m going to go back to bed,” Dakota grumbled.

                “I feel like you’re just using me for sex,” she pouted. She sounded like a bimbo, a prostitute in the making.

                That’s because he is using you for sex, I thought.

                I ambled out of bed. “Who was that?” I yawned, covering my mouth to block any morning breath.

                Dakota’s sleepy eyes shot open. “I—uh—you weren’t supposed to see that.”

                “Why not? Who was she? A lady friend?” I giggled, enjoying his flustered moment.

                He made a face. “Meh. It’s a mutual…hold on. You’re old enough. It was a one-night that’s been going on for about a month.”

                “So she’s your sex buddy?”

                “It sounds so dirty when you say it like that.”

                “Sex is a dirty deed when you’re not married.”

                “Oh, please. You haven’t turned into one of those church girls, have you?”

                I laughed at the thought of me, and innocent little, church girl. As if. “I’m not a religious person, and you know that.”

                “We went to church when we were younger.”

                “Like, twice a year. And that’s only because Grandma Ruth was visiting.”

                “She still thinks we go to church? Even after the minister asked us who we were and introduced us to everybody there?”

                “She doesn’t visit much anymore. She likes staying with Tilly.”

                Tilly was our cousin who thrived in warm weather. She was twenty-two now and owned a successful flower shop in a small city in Georgia. She visited us once and complained about how sixty degrees was too cold and that she needed a fluffy hat, pronto. Taking her out to ice cream that day wasn’t a smart idea. I think she got frostbite.

                “We could go visit her,” Dakota suggested, his voice neutral. “It’s not that long of a drive.”

                “No, thank you!” I said quickly. “The ride here was nauseating enough, and I’d rather not take a trip that long until it’s time for me to go back home.”