Bad Boy Rich

I tried my best not to offend him, but I could see by the way he struggled to maintain eye contact. He was offended and shifted the conversation to a quick goodbye and that was that.

I thought about calling him this morning, but instead, chickened out and sent him a quick text.

I miss you too. I’ll call you tonight when Flynn is out xx

No longer wanting to be alone in the confinement of my room, I grab a tee and place it over my tank, exiting my room and leaving my cell behind. The bathroom is in between mine and Flynn’s room, and when I open the door, I jump with shock screaming as a stranger stands before me.

“Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me!” I clutch my chest, riding through the pain.

“Sorry.” The woman smiles sweetly. “I just needed to pee or I’ll get a UTI.”

“What?”

“You know, after you have sex you need to pee or you’ll get a UTI.”

I walk away and straight to Flynn’s bedroom, banging on the door with a vengeance until I open it myself. The room reeks of sex, and man smell. He sees me, ignores my presence, and closes his eyes.

“Are you kidding me with all this right now?”

His eyes open, tired and uninterested in what I had to say. “Just because you ain’t getting any doesn’t mean everyone else has to suffer.”

“How do you know I’m not getting any? Not that this is about me.” I shake my head, confused by how the conversation turned. “You can’t just bring random girls to our place. And why didn’t you tell me you spoke to Mom every day?”

“Because it’s none of your fucking business.”

I raise my finger, pointing it with anger. “You know, this emo phase is so 2002. As for the women, they better not steal any of my shit….OH! And use protection!”

It felt like Flynn was a lost cause. I failed at being a good big sister. The more time I spent with him, alone, the more respect I had for Mom.

With that thought in mind, I lock myself in the bathroom for an hour and decide to use my day off to hit the beach.

Back in my room, I gather my things into a beach bag, careful not to forget the sunscreen since I’m known for turning into a lobster. My cell vibrates on the bed; perfect timing since I almost forgot to pack it. There’s a text from Wesley, the first time I had heard from him in five days.

Did you know there are 10 alligators to every human in Louisiana?

My lips curve upwards in a smile, but I’m quick to stop it, as if he could see me and I didn’t want him to think a simple message would bring me so much joy. I could have responded instantly, fall at the mercy of his charm, instead, I hop in my car and crank up Alanis Morissette and channel some angry-girl music in hopes it would give me much-needed strength.

I settled on hitting Venice Beach: a popular tourist destination with so much to see and quirky entertainment right on the boardwalk. I welcomed the bustling atmosphere; my thoughts needed a good distraction and less time to ponder and think.

There was a group of young performers doing some dance that I watched for half an hour till it ended. The performers walked around the crowd, requesting a donation be given. I threw in a five—the young guy thanking me and asking me for a date at the same time.

Despite the large crowds and busy sights to take in, my mind struggled to rid itself of the unanswered text that sat in my inbox. As if the cell gods are talking to me, it rings in my purse as I fumble for it in a mad rush to answer, only to be greeted by Emerson.

“Hey, me and a friend are heading to the beach. Do you wanna come with?”

“Actually, I’m kinda at the beach already.”

“Even better. We’ll come to you.”

I give her exact directions t

o where I’ll be waiting. She’s quick to let me know that she’ll be here soon and what she would be wearing since she wanted to go unnoticed. Twenty minutes later, the sunflower hat that looked like it belonged in the nineties is right in front of me.

“Wow, you weren’t wrong when you said it was ugly.” I laugh, curious as to who would design a large straw hat with sunflowers all over it and wait…are those ladybugs?

“If ugly were a person, even it would be offended. It’s the most hideous thing ever. My mom found it at a yard sale and bought it for Halloween one year. I wasn’t sure who she was supposed to be though. Anyways, I look like a tourist so no one will pay attention.”

The friend standing beside Emerson is Charlie—her lawyer, the very attractive woman that sat on the right of the panel when I was being interviewed.