Pocket Full of Posies

Chapter One

Sometimes it felt really good to be mad. For instance, Three Days Grace just sounded so much better when you when in a pissed off mood. I’d pretty much been in a perpetual state of pissed-offery; but there was something a bit relieving about that. Mostly, I was more sarcastic than biting everyone else’s heads off. I’d long ago learned how to manage my anger to more of an “I just don’t give a shit” attitude. It worked for me and so far hadn’t hurt anyone around me.

For the first month, I lacked in homework. It got pretty bad. Bad enough to where my English teacher, Professor McNelly, actually felt the need to ask if anything was wrong. I bullshitted my way through that would-be-mess, but from then on I took more care about homework. So that part of my life was at least settled.

The rest of it….well…it was fun.

I hadn’t known a life outside of being the good girl who only ever had one boyfriend. And it wasn’t like I gave up on church or anything—God hadn’t made Isaac be a total idiot, after all—but neither was I going to pretend like I was okay with my fiancé running off with my best friend. I heard they might’ve actually gotten married. Funny, Joanna and I had always sworn to eachother we’d be bridesmaids at each of our weddings.

It hurt when I stopped to think about it; so that was maybe why I didn’t think about it too much. Aunt Nelly had tried getting me to open up more than once, but I mostly brushed her off. I loved my aunt, I mean she and my uncle Harmon raised me. But I knew I’d lose this pretty awesome feeling of being a total badass if I did. I just wasn’t willing to let that go yet.

The transformation of good girl to bad-ish girl wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be. I genuinely had to not give a shit. What did I have left to lose, really? I had no friends; drawbacks of swearing you’d only have the same two best friends your whole life. What a joke that’d been. I mean, there were people at school who I talked to, but not outside of class. They were cool and funny, but I wasn’t going to open the road of friendship to any of them. Friends were overrated, anyway. I had my family and that was all I needed.

And horses helped.

Aunt Nelly and Uncle Harmon owned the nicest farm Lewisburg had to offer. Although Tennessee was known for being a more hilly state, most of their land was flat with rolling hills. They’d had a huge business of training horses, breeding, and giving riding lessons. Unfortunately, though, the economy just didn’t have a place for cowboys anymore. They weren’t going to sell the farm, but they each had to get jobs outside of the horse business. Uncle Harmon worked in a factory not too far from the farm and Aunt Nelly had an amazing and booming sandwich shop called Nelly’s; maybe unoriginal, but it sure fit. It was just a little place on the square and the only things besides sandwiches that she sold were some sweet treats, soup, and homemade potato chips.

I didn’t even remember my parents. My aunt and uncle had raised me since I was six years old. If I tried really hard, I could remember flashes of my father. But he always seemed sad and lonely. There were times when there was a forced smile, but I could always see that false barrier he rose to shield the pain in his heart. He died when I was six of cancer.

That wasn’t why he was sad.

No, he was sad because the woman he poured his whole heart into left him only a year after I was born. She was an addict, and my dad thought she’d changed; especially after I was born. But, no. The woman was selfish and had run away to let him deal with me. No one had heard of her since; or at least that they were telling me. I never really asked about her, but I knew a few things. Like she was sinfully beautiful. Apparently I looked just like her. I hated her more than anything for that. I had her same small face and freckled nose, the same caramel colored hair, and the same wrinkle to my nose when I got frustrated.