Badly Behaved

There’s a shift around me, a slight swoosh of rubbing fabrics, and then I’m lifted off the ground, cradled like a bride and bouncing around with forward steps.

I can’t say whose arms I’m in, but I’m not sure it matters at the moment, so I simply hold on without thinking about it.

The sun warms my skin minutes later, letting me know we’ve stepped into the parking lot.

It’s not until my ass is gently placed on cooled leather that I grow antsy, but before I decide to do as I want, the command is whispered around me.

“All good now, Trouble.”

My eyes pop open, instantly snapping from one to the next.

Beretta winks from the passenger seat as Arsen pulls from the curbside.

We roll from the parking lot, the four of us tucked inside the two-door sports car, and as we pull onto Main Street, the top begins to fold back.

I trail it, watching as it disappears behind a sheet of metal, and run my fingers along the edge of the matte black paint.

A low laugh leaves me.

Ransom, who sits beside me, catches it, raising a brow, but I leave him to whatever it is his mind provides.

I fish a rubber band from my bag and tie my hair back.

Here’s to hoping they’re not serial killers.

The terms of my not yet, but future engagement, are simple and sensible. Both Anthony and I are to live our lives as normal until my graduation, then we’ll link up officially.

We’re to get to know each other slowly, while still doing as we please over the course of this year, with only one rule, no making headlines.

Unlike my sister, I have no room for failure. She might have popped a bottle to the fine print of her arrangement before and after breaking the single rule, but her situation was different. She had a fall girl.

Me.

But I’m the youngest, the last.

I have no room to fall.

When my parents talked to me about taking her place, I didn’t argue or push back. I knew it was a possibility the day they sat us down to tell us Monti had become a tool of negotiations—they worded it differently, but we understood it for what it was.

My sister and I are similar in many ways, and polar opposites in others. She is a ball of feelings and vulnerability where I am not. She’s all about finding her soul mate, running from one to the next on her way, where I can’t fathom why anyone would ever wish to fall victim to emotions they can’t control.

Simply stated, the girl is a mess, and it doesn’t help that country is her music genre of choice. In my opinion, that was her downfall. I mean, can anyone honestly listen to a single country song without daydreaming or crying or having a literal mental breakdown? If they say yes, I’d call them a liar. Monti has that shit on repeat.

We do share a desire for excitement. The difference is I can rein mine in, she can’t. Hers is driven by love and romance and thinking about such things makes me want to vomit.

When my mom crushed her spirit without batting a lash, we all silently suspected the ancient saying would ring true when it came to my whimsical sister.

There’s no such thing as a sure thing.

She proved their safety measures right, and so the backup plan was in full effect—I was on the next plane home.

Growing up, my parents were unlike any of the others I remember. While they could enjoy a night or weekend out like Cali and Jules did, they weren’t concerned with social order or country clubs and would rather be working than all else, including hanging out with me or my sister.

They would preach the importance of education, of independent thinking and demanded we stand up for ourselves where others were concerned. Nobody was to take us for weak, and what made us even stronger was our understanding of the world we lived in, one where our parents knew best.

And they do.

My mother came from the south side with nothing and now owns a forty-four-story skyscraper.

The day of my flight back to California, my mom drove me to the airport herself and left me with what she called her ‘wistful notion.’ I was instructed to ‘sow my wild oats’ as my old-school mother put it—gross, coming from her.

She knows I’m not a virgin, that I did my thing and had some fun throughout high school in Naples. She’s the one who took me to get the Depo-Provera shot after all, but the only reason I have the freedom I do is because I am my mother’s daughter and she’s aware of that fact.

I have never had a boyfriend and I have no desire for one.

I never date as dating goes, but I’ll hang out and go along for the ride. I go to dances and events, never alone, but that’s where it ends.