On Heartbreak Ridge: Movie Trilogy Prequel Novella (The Movie Trilogy) (3 page)

I lifted my knee to press against his side.

Inevitably, my skirt slid down my thigh, giving him easy access to everything
under
my skirt.

Before I could correct
my failed maneuver, his hand slapped to my hip, his thumb pressing into my thigh.

Shit.
Shit!

Fingers beneath the side of my panties.

Gram had bought them for me, and they were cotton and white, nearly reaching my belly button.

I tried to squirm away, but his eyes were already narrowed.

Shit.
Granny panties. In the most literal of senses.

“These are hot,” he teased, tugging at the elastic band.

“I needed something… that worked with my costumes…” I began to stutter and ramble, breathless, my mouth only a moment away from his.

“
Sexy
,” he mumbled with a smirk.

“But I didn’t mean to… invite you to them,” I tried, reaching to smooth my skirt. “I was just trying to move my leg against you.”

“Oh,” he quickly removed his hand, eyebrows raised. “Am I going too fast?”

“No,” I shook my head, mortified. “No! I mean, just… not under my skirt, okay?”

He grinned.

I balked.

Fuck
. What did that even mean?

That meant all the fucking hills and dales between my forehead and my toes, except under my skirt.

He slid his hand up my stomach, dropping his mouth to my chest.

Ugh! My boobs are too small! My nipples look like mosquito bites!

“Trevor-”

Holy hell, his mouth was on my breast. He pulled the cup of my tiny bra down, and began sucking.

Kiss him until I felt it in my skirt? I couldn’t focus on one sensation. His hands were on my legs, his mouth on my breast, and…

Beyonce instructed “to the left” and, on cue,
Trevor moved to my left breast.

I almost
moaned.

“
Does this feel good?
”

What? He was
on me, and I opened my eyes, nodding quickly.

“Yes! But-”

He was back at it again.

Wait.
Wait
. Weren’t there… bases… or something? We had only kissed for about a minute, and now he was sucking on my boobs. Or, rather, trying to locate the area where my boobs would eventually grow.

Was I going too fast? Being a whore?

“Trevor, stop,” I finally exhaled, and he moved away. I shoved my shirt down, my eyes darting to him nervously.

“Sorry. Too fast. I can’t help it, you’ve got amazing tits.”

Okay, now I
knew
he was full of shit. There was nothing amazing about my non-existent cleavage. My chest looked like the pale dead people from long ago with two coins placed over their eyes.

“
Just kissing, okay?”

He grinned. And we kissed.

For about forty-five minutes, non-stop, until Theresa was pounding on the door, saying she was ready to leave.

The Sunday matinee
show was weirdly uncomfortable. Trevor was tongue-tied and kept messing up his lines, and I felt absolutely nothing in our kissing scenes except his sweaty palms on my face.

We didn’t talk much that day… or that week… and by
his graduation, I wondered what the fuck had happened. Had I let him do too much, too fast? Was I not a good kisser? Did he like someone else?

“Let it go, Viv. He’s eighteen. Too old for you anyway.”

Theresa; always my rock.

I finally shrugged it off. Who knew what he was thinking?
Boys made absolutely no sense.

I decided, from that point on, I wanted a
boy who wasn’t afraid to tell me what he was thinking. One that wasn’t afraid to lay it on the line, the good and the bad.

I didn’t want a boy, I wanted a
man
.

A man
who would want
me
as much as I wanted him.

K

“Keaton! Wait up.”

Robin jogged over to me just outside our high school, and my best friend, Drew, flashed her a lewd look.

“Hey
Rob
bie,” Drew whined, and Robin flipped him the finger.

I gave Drew a warning glare before turning back to my sister.
“Robin, I’m going to be late.”

“You’re gonna be late for what, screwing Amy Raleigh
behind the bleachers? Just give me five fucking minutes.”

I paused just outside the school,
rolling my eyes.

“Fine. What?”

“It’s Mom.” She lowered her voice, shifting her backpack on her shoulder. I narrowed my eyes, leading her away from Drew and my other friends.

“What’s wrong now?”

“Luke has some kind of science fair tonight at school. Mom was already half in the bag when I went home to check on her at lunch.”

My irritation prickled. Narrowing my eyes, I glanced back at the school.

“Can’t he skip it?”

“It’s important to him,” she argued, glaring. “And I already committed to babysitting.”

“I have to work too-”

“But Old Man Jarrod will understand. If I cancel on Mrs. Carson tonight, she can’t take her shift at the hospital.”

She looked up at me expectantly, and I knew that she was right.

“Fuuuck.” I exhaled slowly, rolling my eyes. “Fine. When and where?”

“The junior high. At six.”

“What about Grandpa?”

She tightened her grip on her backpack. “You know he won’t leave Mom alone, not like that.”

“Fine,” I repeated, not even trying to mask my irritation.
“Tell him I’ll be there.”

“Keat, you have to promise-”

“I promise,” I snapped. When her expression sobered, I softened my voice. “I promise. Robin, thank you for telling me. I don’t want Luke to be disappointed.”

She brightened immediately, which was a lot to say for Robin. She gave me a tiny wave, turning for the road.

I walked to Jarrod’s Hardware, shifting my backpack over my shoulder as the door chime signaled Mr. Jarrod. He came out from the back room, glancing down at this watch.

“You’re late, kid.”

“Sorry. And I have to leave early,” I rushed, moving quickly toward the back room.

The man’s weathered skin pulled tight around his mouth as he frowned my way.
“Why’s that?”

“My little brother has a school thing. No one can take him but me.”

He gave a low whistle behind his false teeth, shaking his head. “You know I care for you Thorne kids. But I have to draw the line somewhere, Keaton.”

“Can you please just draw the line another day?” I
couldn’t help my sarcasm as I haphazardly tied the Jarrod’s Hardware apron on over my clothes. Mr. Jarrod turned back toward the stockroom.

“You had yer last chance already. And then four more after that. Sorry, kid.”

My fingers paused at the tie. “Sorry? What, you’re firing me?”

“
Can’t rely on you. Half the time yer with your kid brother, and the other half yer out with the girls. In all fairness, I’m firin’ you for that second half.”

I
fought to control the outburst that was brewing with my damaged pride.

“Sir, I need this job. Please.”

“Then make other arrangements for yer brother.”

“With all due respect, you need me,” I snapped, wrenching the dirty apron over my neck. “Who else is going to lift all those boxes?”

“Got a town full of local boys lined up to take yer paycheck.”

“Fine.”

I scooped my backpack over my arm and pushed through the door without another word.

The walk home was hot,
the sun beating down on me with every miserable step. I was dreading the end of school. I knew that most of my friends would be headed off to college, or to travel, or to take my job at Jacob’s Hardware, while I’d be stuck taking care of the bullshit at home.

Grandpa was getting too weak to make it up and down the stairs, and he’d given up driving almost a year ago.
I knew that it was difficult for him; he’d always been independent and was proud of it. He’d saved every penny possible over the years, and he’d spent a lot of that savings on my family. He even let my parents take over his big, Victorian house, moving himself into the small garage apartment. When my mom had protested and insisted that he stay in the main house, he refused.

“A young family needs their privacy. I like the garage. Prefer it there.”

I knew that Grandpa had some land in Westmoreland County that was rich in natural gas, but that was about all that I knew. He let my dad provide for us as much as possible, which I knew was about pride, but when shit hit the fan (as it often did in our family) Grandpa was there to bail us out.

I was grateful when he handed over the keys to his old Chevy pickup, but really wished he’d let me pull that beautiful Ferrari out of the garage and take it for a spin. He kept the car under a tight, beige cover, only
unveiling it once in a while to let me admire the refurbished interior or the cherry red paint job.

I thought about our conversation in the garage last week.

“It’ll be yours when I pass away, Keaton. But not until then. You gotta have something to look forward to, son.”

“I’d rather have
you
than a stupid car,” I’d argued at his side.

“Eh, I’m old and full of piss n’ vinegar, Keaton.”

“You’re the best,” I replied, so sincerely that I watched his hand tremble as he brushed a wayward tear out of his eye.

“
Eighteen.” He reached out to squeeze my shoulder. “Eighteen, an’ takin’ care of your mama, your sister and brother, and trying to hold down that job while makin’ high marks at school. I’m so proud of you.”

“School’s easy.”

“‘Cause you’re smart. Know what I was doin’ at eighteen? Girls. All o’ them.”

I laughed,
shrugging as I pulled the cover back over the Ferrari. “Oh, I’m doing them too, Grandpa.”

“So I hear,” he grinned, winking my way.

An emergency vehicle wailed from behind, startling as it flew past me on the road.

I dropped my book bag.

The ambulance swung into our driveway at the crest of the hill.

I was still almost
a quarter of a mile away from my house.

Breaking into a run,
I prayed, for the first time in years.
Please don’t let it be Luke. Please.

I knew, between Mom and Grandpa, the likelihood of Luke needing an ambulance was slim.

I knew, deep down, what was happening.

Soaked with sweat, I threw the front door open, nearly screaming his name. “Luke!”

“I’m okay.” My twelve-year-old brother appeared from the kitchen, hurrying to my side.

I crushed him to my chest, trying to focus. “Mom or Grandpa?”

“Grandpa,” Luke sobbed, not fighting my hold at all. “He wasn’t breathing. When I got home from school.”

“Listen to me,” I
ordered calmly, turning him away from the living room where the paramedics worked to revive our grandfather. “Is Mom in bed?”

“Yeah, I tried to wake her up, but she won’t-”

“Go up to your room, Luke. Wait there until I come get you.”

“Keaton-”

“Go. Now,” I said firmly. He’d come to learn my we’re-not-fucking-around voice and nodded, running for the stairs.

A female paramedic
left the group surrounding Grandpa, coming out into the kitchen with me. “What’s your name?”

“Keaton,” I replied quickly. “That’s my Grandpa.”

“Keaton, I’m Linda. Are there any adults in the house? Mom, Dad?”

“No dad. My mom is sleeping upstairs.”

“Can you wake her up?”

“No, because she’s not sleeping, she’s drunk and passed out.” I decided that now was no time to save face for our family.

The sympathy that passed over Linda the Paramedic’s face set my temper on fire.

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Keaton,” she repeated. “
I’m very sorry. When we arrived, your grandfather had already passed. Do you understand?”

“I get it,” I growled, forcing back the brewing tears. “So now what?”

She was taken aback for a moment. “Are you asking what happens next?”

“Yeah.”

She began talking. I stopped listening.

When Mom sobered up and realized that her father was gone, she swore to the three of us that she was going to get help. She held me, Robin, and Luke in the living room, all of them sobbing but me.