1O I Just Wanna Be Kissing In Summer

"I JUST WANNA BE KISSING IN SUMMER"

My mom tried to pick fights with me over the next couple of days. I'd gotten good at dodging those bullets. Unlike last week, I didn't out right avoid her. I spoke to her in the most polite way I could manage. I asked her about work, complimented her cooking, even did the dishes oncd. But as soon as she turned nasty, I excused myself.

I was still unsure where I stood with being grounded, so when Cherry got back from her grandparents house, I told her to come over. My dad didn't see an issue, but of course my mom tried to find something to complain about.

She said I couldn't have friends over until I cleaned my room. She looked silly when my dad told her he'd just seen my room and it was spotless. Which it was.

"Have you replied to the email?" Cherry asked now, laying across my bed painting her nails. She had her braids out, her natural curly hair fluffed out around her head like a crown.

I sat on my carpet, painting my toes black. "No. I'm too nervous."

I read over Bea Lopez's email at least five times I day, but couldn't bring myself to contact her.

"What if she wants to see more of my songs? I have nothing to show her without my notebook."

Cherry swiped a pastel purple across her thumbnail. "Faye, you walk around singing random, made up song lyrics all the time. You sang about Skittles two minutes ago. You can fill up a new songbook in a day."

I laughed, remembering the nonsense song I came up with when I found an unopened pouch of the rainbow candy in my desk drawer. "I don't think those are the kind of songs Bea Lopez is looking for."

"You'll never know what kind of songs she's looking for if you don't respond to the email."

She had a point. And if I was being honest with myself, not having my notebook wasn't the only reason I hadn't replied.

My real hangup was that I wanted the meeting to go well. I wanted to sign a record deal. Win awards. Play sold out arenas. Hear my songs played in grocery stores.

I wanted it all so much that it scared me. If the meeting was a bust...I don't think I'd recover. I couldn't stomach even the thought of Bea Lopez deciding I wasn't a right fit for her lable.

Normally, I rushed into things with little to no preparation, but I couldn't do that this time. I had to put my best foot forward. If I showed up to that meeting, it had to be with my best songs.

"I need my notebook," I groaned. "I should put up missing posters."

Cherry painted one of her nails pink. "I think those only work for pets and children."

"My songs are my children!"

Cherry painted her final nail a baby blue. "Speaking of children. Are you helping out Peter today?"

Since that night he let me stay over and use him like a human teddy bear I hadn't talked to him much. He'd been busy with the daycamp. I was so determined not to start a fight with my mom that I didn't dare ask her if I could leave the house.

Maybe today was a good time to try. When Cherry left--she had a beach day planned with cousins from out of town--I found my mom in the living room.

Dad wasn't there, unfortunately. I almost decided against asking her anything without him there to defend me. But she'd already spotted me.

Setting her book across her lap, she looked up at me from the couch. "Why were you and Angela talking about kids earlier?"

I'm pregnant, Mom. Surprise! Was what I wanted to say. But I've learned that my politeness annoyed her more than my sarcasm. "We were talking about the daycamp Peter works at. I was wondering I could go help him today."

She removed her reading glasses, using them to bookmark her page before  turning back to me. "You're actually asking permission instead of sneaking off?"

I was not going to take the bait. "I need to borrow the car."

I had my license, but rarely drove. The only places I ever went were, school, Cherry's house and Cloud Creamery. All of which were in walking distance. The elementary school was a little further away.

"Isn't it a little late? I thought the camp was during the day, not the afternoon."

"Camp runs until five." That gave me about two hours to help out.

My mom studied me for a moment before standing from the couch. "I'll drive you."

Absolutely not! I could only handle biting my tongue for so long. Sitting with her in a moving car for ten minutes, I wouldn't make it.

"I'll take the bus."

She was already at the door, keys in hand. "Faye, don't be difficult. Get in the car."

Still holding on to the idea of being civil, I did as she said. She played Kelly Clarkson as we drove in silence. I was so focused on not saying something to set her off that I hadn't realized we were nowhere near the elementary school.

My mom parked the car, shutting the engine off. My heart stopped when I saw where we were.

"What is this?" My voice shook as I asked.

"This is what I'm trying to save you from," she told me, pointing at the cemetery in front of us. "I do not want to bury another daughter."

Hot tears flooded my eyes as I stared out at the headstones, one of them belong to my sister. "You're sick!"

"Call me sick. Make me the bad guy all you want," she said, her voice harsh. "But this is what your future will look like if you don't cut the bad girl routine."

My stomach rolled as more tears fell. Bringing me here was cruel, even for her. She wanted a reaction out of me. She saw that I wasn't going to give her the fight she craved with her usual tactics, so she brought me to my sister's grave.

Well, if she wanted a reaction I'd give it to her. I turned to her, angry tears flowing. "How dense can you be?"

She flinched at my tone. She started to speak, but I yelled over her. "Sabrina is here because of you! The only reason she was on that bus when it crashed was because of you! She was running away from you!"

For the first time ever, my mom was speechless. She stared at me, blinking. Unmoving.

"All you ever did was criticize her. You only focused on what she did wrong and never the things she did right," I spat at her. "Because while you working all the time, she was there helping me with my homework. She made sure I ate and brushed my teeth. She was a better mother to me than you ever were. And you killed her."

My mom tried to remain stoic, emotionless. But I could see the tears pooling.

"If I ever end up like here it will be because of you!" Unable to stand being in the same space as her anymore, I got out of the car.

I didn't know where I was going, just that I couldn't stand to be near her anymore. She didn't come after me, not that I thought she would. Before I rounded the corner, I saw that she was still sitting in the cemetery parking lot.

A few blocks from the cemetery was a park. Children ran around as their families watched from the distance. Couples had picnics under the shady trees. I founded a secluded tree to sit under.

My face was stiff with old tears and my mouth was dry from all the crying. I pulled out my new songbook and doodled in the margins just to have something to do. I had too many emotions to even attempt to narrow them down into a song.

I didn't know how long I'd been sitting there, but I covered a whole page in doodles and random lyrics that popped in my head. Some I made up, other's from songs I loved.

"Faye?"

I looked up from my notebook to find a tall blond standing over me. Ryan. The oldest Conway. His shirt was drenched in sweat and he had a basketball under his arm. He must've come from the courts on the opposite side of the park. His brother's weren't with him this time, though.

"You alright?" He asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

"I take it I look like a drowned rat."

His lips tilted in a small smile, but he didn't deny it. I was not a cute cryer. He sat down with me under the tree. Both of us silent for a moment.

"It wasn't something Peter did, was it?"

My eyes darted up at him. "No. Of course not. Your brother been nothing but saint-like."

"He's definitely the better of us," he agreed, rolling his basketball in front of him in the grass. "Did he tell you about our mom?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He did."

He seemed a little surprised by that. "He took it the hardest when she left."

That moment in the music store came to mind. I still couldn't figure out why he blamed himself.

"We might tease him about not dating, but we get why he's been hesitant." He glanced at me with the same gray-blue eyes as Peter. "Then you happened."

This fake dating thing was getting complicated. It was clear he cared about his brother so of course he'd want to scope out the new girl in his life. Especially the one who got him to date. But none of it was real. I usually didn't mind lying. I preferred it actually, but I found myself wanting to tell Ryan the truth.

"I don't know how you got him over his fear of dating." His eyes narrowed at me, all serious. "But if--"

"Wait," I said holding up both hands, palms out. Smirking. "Am I about to get the 'If you hurt him, I'll hurt you' speech? I've always wanted to experience that."

Ryan laughed deeply. "You're a strange one, Faye."

"I try."

"For the record, I would never hurt a woman," he said. "But I might give you dirty looks if I see you in public."

"Noted."

He stood, grabbing his ball. "Did you need a ride somewhere?"

"Yes, actually."

When we got into the jeep, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked more like a drowned cat than a rat. I fished a packet of make-up wipes from my bag to clean myself up.

Ryan preferred to ride in silence which was fine with me. The wind whooshing as we drove was kind of relaxing.

"Peter says you sing," Ryan said, raising his voice to be heard over the wind.

"I do."

"Do you take gigs?"

I looked over at him. I've done talent shows, open mics, and few random concerts in front of stores before a security guard came to chase me away. But never anything official.

"What kind of gig?"

We stopped at a light and he turned to me. "Tameka's little sister is turning thirteen and she wants a live singer at her party. Are you interested?"

This was actually perfect. I wanted to put forth the best whenever I decided to contact Bea Lopez and having footage of a live performance might boost my luck with her.

"Just tell me when."

His face split into a smile. "I'll talk to Tameka and let you know."

Ryan parked the jeep into his driveway, just as Peter's car pulled up next to us. Peter's brows drew together as he watched me exit his brother's jeep.

"Sup, baby bro?" Ryan ruffled Peter's hair as he walked passed him and into the house.

Peter mumble something back, but he was mostly focused on me. "What were you doing with Ryan?" Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he kind of sounded jealous.

"Well, after three solid days of civilized conversation, my mother and I had a huge fight."

"Oh."

"Yeah, this time she even included a field trip to my the cemetery where my sisters buried," I told him. "Your brother found me in a park after and offered me a ride."

His face contorted with sympathy. "Faye." Without any hesitation, he hugged me.

Was it because of his usual kindness, or did he remember what I told him the other night about needing physical contact when I was upset?

I really hoped it was the second reason.

"Did you want to come inside?" He asked, hands soothingly rubbing up and down my arms.

"Nah, it feels too good outside to be in the house."

He took my hand in his and led me around the side of his house and into the backyard. There was trampoline I hadn't noticed that night I snuck into his yard. Thats where we headed.

He climbed on first, laying on the bouncy, blue surface. I followed, laying next to him, our shoulders pressed together. We were quiet as we watched clouds pass overhead.

"Oh, your brother threatened me earlier," I said, effectively ruining the serene mood.

Peter propped himself up on his elbow, his face hovering over mine. "What?"

"Yeah. It was really sweet."

His eyes narrowed with confusion. "You're not making any sense."

"He told me not to break your heart or he'll give me the stink eye."

"He used the phrase 'stink eye'?"

"I'm paraphrasing."

He chuckled laying back down.

"They really care for you."

He picked at lint on his New Found Glory shirt. "I guess."

"I feel bad about lying to them."

His eyes flitted to me, wide and taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"They think I cured you of dating allergy," I said, picking at my newly painted fingernails.

There was a pause before he asked, "Do you want to stop?"

"No," I said automatically. "I don't know what I'm saying. I'm overly emotional right now. I might be about to start my period."

His face blanched. "Oh."

I laughed, sitting up. "What was that face? You don't like discussing menstrual cycles?"

He reddened. "No. It's not that. It's...blood in general." He practically gagged just saying the word blood.

"Aren't you always the first to sign up for a blood drive?"

"It's for a good cause, so I suck it up." He was turning green as we spoke. "Can we please change the subject?"

"Of course." I laid back, staring at the sky. "So...whose your favorite vampire, Edward Cullen or the Salvatore Brothers?"

"Alright, you asked at for it." He rolled over, hands tickling my sides.

I shrieked with laughter trying to get away from him. He was on top of me, knees on either side of me as he straddled me. I had nowhere to go as he tickled me relentlessly.

"Stop!Stop!Stop!" I begged in between giggles and gasping for air. He obeyed but didn't move off of me.

We were both breathing hard, smiles on our faces. His fluffy curls brushed against my forehead as he leaned over me. That time, I couldn't restrain myself, I ran my fingers through them. It was just as soft as I imagined. The mood quickly changed from joking to something else.

His gaze on my mine was intense. His eyes like a storm as he watched me. He leaned closer, his warm breath fanning my face. My heart was hammering in my chest like and uptempo beat.

My hand moved from his hair to his cheek, the blond stubble tickling my palm. The smell of his shampoo mixed with the smell of fresh laundry. I'd thought about kissing him more than I cared to admit. But I'd never once imagined him initiating things.

Our noses brushed lightly as his lips parted. Then--

"Hey!"

Peter and I startled, whipping around in the direction of the voice that just interrupted us. We looked up to see Aaron hanging out a second story window.

"The trampoline is a strict no hanky panky zone! Get a room," he shouted before closing the window.

Peter immediately rolled off of me, then hopped off the trampoline like he wanted as much distance between us as possible. Like he regretted almost kissing me.

Aaron was officially my least favorite Conway brother.

"Guess that's my cue to leave," I said, meeting him on the ground.

He shoved his fists in his pockets, kicking at the grass. "Yeah."

Yeah? No invite to dinner. No eye contact. He really regretted that moment we had just now.

Without another word, I turned and left.

When I got home from Peter's house, my dad was waiting for me in the kitchen. He looked solemn as he sat there with his chin resting on his clasped fist.

I pulled out a chair across from him. "Mom told you what happened today?"

He nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. "Faye, what she did...taking to the cemetery." He paused, choking up. He coughed, clearing the emotional build up from his throat. "I told myself that she was just stressed. She lost one daughter, and she was worried about losing you, too. But after today, I just can't ignore how toxic your mother is anymore."

My own throat tightened as I watched my father from across the table. "What does that mean? Where's Mom?"

He rubbed his hand across his jaw. "She's staying with your grandma for now."

This was what I wanted since their trial separation last year. I wanted them to realize the were no good together. But that didn't stop me from feeling guilty about it.

What I said to her in that car crossed so many lines. No matter how angry I was, telling her she killed Sabrina took things too far.

My dad reached across the table, taking my hand in both of his. He met my gaze head on as he said, "I am so incredibly sorry for allowing her to treat you and your sister horribly all these years. Growing in a house full of women, I was used to all the yelling and shouting matches. But I didn't realize there's a difference between fighting out of love and being genuinely hateful."

He squeezed my hand. I'd never seen him so emotional before.

"I know this is all coming more than a little late," he said, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

I got up from my chair, rushing from the other side of the table to throw my arms around him. Seeing my easy going, always has a smile on his face, dad so upset broke me in half.

We stayed like that for who knows how long, both us sobbing messes. When the tears stopped, we ordered pizza and watched Law & Order: SVU in the living room.

My dad went up to bed after the third episode. I went to the garage and sat at my piano. My emotions were raw and all over the place.

The fight with my mom, almost kissing Peter, crying with my dad.

Absentmindedly, I played around on the piano just to clear my mind. The melody was slow and sad. I didn't want to be sad right then.

I tried again, something faster. Remembering that silly song about Skittles that I sang with Cherry, I started singing random lyrics about blue skies and trampolines. It wasn't a song I'd ever release to the public, just something to lighten my mood. Something just for my ears only. And Freckles as she laid at my feet.

It worked because when I wrapped it up and went up to my room, I no longer had a heavy cloud over my head.

Instead of going to bed, I grabbed my laptop and sat cross-legged on my bed. Bea Lopez's email loaded up as soon as I turned on the computer.

Taking in a deep breath, I hit contact.

********

Another chapter that made me emo as reread it lol

What do you think about what her mom did?

And that moment on the trampoline???

Thanks again for reading!!

Comments and votes are greatly appreciated 🥰🥰