Authors: R. Colora
Katie In Denver
KATIE IN DENVER
Copyright © 2015 A.R. Cousar
All rights reserved. Except for the use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means is forbidden without the express permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and settings are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
**CONTENT WARNING **
This book is not suitable for Children 14 and under
Yes, there is SEX and VIOLENCE and BAD LANGUAGE! The book deals with adult themes, but if you let your teen watch Vampire Diaries or Pretty Little Liars my book is TAME.
Who doesn’t remember sneaking to read their first naughty romance? Stop being so uptight, we were all 14-year-old girls, curious about what our mothers read.
On that note, to my own 13-year-old daughter; I better not find out you read this! It’s COMPLETELY not age appropriate. Just remember I’m your mother, I know and see everything!
Cover Model © 2015 Dollar Photo Club
EBook Cover © 2015 JC Clarke
Beta Readers & Contributors –
Kate Tetreault & Jeanne Becker Trinkaus
Edited and Formatted by Wendi Lynn of
Ready, Set, Edit
For any woman who had to walk past the protesters.
For the women who struggle every day to raise their kids alone.
For the teen moms who still achieved their dreams
For my best friend Jennifer McCarrick
I love you Bestie xoxo
My husband, George, and my girls, who never complained when it was quick, easy meals or frozen pizza.
The In Denver Girls, these women have been my sounding boards and biggest cheerleaders.
All the people who wrote me to tell me that they loved the first two books.
When I was sixteen I found myself in “trouble”. It was decided for me that I would terminate the pregnancy. I remember walking through the protesters; one woman even went so far as to spit on me. When I walked into the clinic,, it was not welcoming ,it was horrible. It smelled like dirty mop water and bleach. I remember gagging as I signed in for my appointment and I remember telling my guardian over and over that this wasn’t what I wanted. I was told the choice wasn’t mine and I better not make a scene. After the procedure, I made it to the parking lot before throwing up all over the place. My boyfriend at the time came to see me after the procedure and when he told me everything would be alright, I knew he was lying. Nothing was ever alright. I was already battling depression, I had witnessed my father’s murder at the age 10 by a man named Jose Mayo (New York State) and watched my mother waste away to nothing after a boyfriend (Edwin) knowingly infected her with HIV because he didn’t want to die alone (Sun-Sentinel Elisa Pulliza article). The abortion sent me spinning into a depression and it took me almost 10 years to get help to recover from it. After I got married and had children of my own I realized I needed to get my mood under control and started therapy and an anti-depressant regime. My moods have stabilized and I have been able to deal with the things that have happened in my life. Not everyone is so lucky. Children of trauma often turn to self-medication in the form of drugs or alcohol. Some never deal with their demons and end up on the streets or working in the sex trade. I guess the point of this is the next time you see someone and you think GOD, THEY FUCKED THEIR LIFE UP, take a minute and think about what happened to the person. You are reading my words right now, but that could have been me. I thank my husband everyday for realizing I was crazy and still not running for the hills! He loved me enough to tell me I needed help and to my friends who never enabled me. I never got,"You poor orphan that had to raise her siblings!" I got "Bitch your life sucked, get over it!"
I want to thank my three younger brothers: Mark, Mike and Sam. I was strong because I knew we were all each other had and if this ever gets made into a movie, HELL NO YOU CAN’T BE IN IT !! The last person I want to thank is my daughter, Elisa. I have made so many mistakes; from locking you in a car, dropping you a few times and the one time I gave everyone food poisoning, but you always tell me I’m the best mom ever, and I have earned bunches of gold stars.
If you ever want to talk please email me @ rcolora.com
I always love the multicultural festival in downtown Denver. I like the stands that sell different knick knacks, and I love the food booths, but mostly I love the performances from the different cultures. I just finished watching our Ute dancers, and I’m waiting for the Irish dancers; they are my favorite.
“Hey, you, girl in the blue coat!” I hear someone yelling from behind me. I stop walking and turned.
“You dropped your wallet,” the tall, handsome boy says. He has a group of boys behind him.
Reaching for my wallet, he snaps his hand back holding it to his chest. “I’ve never seen you around here, are you new?” he asks with a grin on his face.
“No, I’m not new, I live on the Ute Reservation.” I could hear my friends behind me giggle.
He extends his hand. “I'm Michael Kerrigan.” He says his name with such pride. Everyone in the state of Colorado knows who the Kerrigans are. They are Denver royalty with Shamus and Elena Kerrigan holding court as the benevolent and beloved king and queen of Denver.
“Katherine Blackwell, daughter of the Ute Nation Chief Joseph Blackwell,” I say, with equal pride, squaring my shoulders and standing taller.
“Katherine!” I hear my friend yell. “We have to go, you know the rules.”
“It was nice meeting you, Michael.” I turn and walk towards my waiting friends.
“It was nice meeting you too, Katie!” I hear from behind. My friends stop instantly; they know that I hate being called Katie, and the fact that I have punched every boy on the Ute Reservation that dared call me that has my friends grinning with anticipation as I walk over to him. I'm only fourteen, and about five feet tall, but I have punched bigger boys than him in the face.
“When you introduced yourself as Michael, did I call you Mike?” I ask with my arms crossed on my chest.
“My name isn't Mike,” he says with a grin. “It’s Michael. But you, you’re definitely a Katie.” I ball my fist up.
“Katherine Blackwell!” I hear the booming voice behind me. It’s my father’s voice.
I turn and walk towards my father, but Michael follows. He steps up to my father. “Sir, I would like to take Katie on a date,” he says confidently.
My father looks Michael up and down. I know he is wondering why I haven't punched this kid yet.
“How old are you?” my father asks him.
“I'm fifteen, sir. I will be sixteen in a few months.”
“Who are your parents, young man?” my father asks with a stern look.
“Shamus and Elena Kerrigan,” he says. “I know they will come get Katie for the movies and bring her back home, I just have to ask.”
My dad lifts his phone to his ear “Shamus, one of your boys just asked my Katherine on a date and given the fact that he called her Katie twice, and she hasn't punched him in the face, I'm inclined to let her go. She seems to have taken a shine to the boy. Hold on, let me ask. Which Kerrigan are you?” my father asks.
“Michael Kerrigan, sir,” he says with a toothy grin, his braces shining in the sun.
“Yes, Shamus,” my dad says. “That’s a fine idea. I will talk to you soon.
“Yes, you may ask her on a date.” my father dared.
Michael looks at him, and my dad clears his throat, “Well ask, I'm going to stand right here. You had the nerve to ask me, now ask her.”
“Katie, will you please go to the movies with me on Saturday night?”
“Not if you were the last teenage boy on the whole planet, Mike Kerrigan!” I turn and walk to my friends who all look shocked. I turn around and see my dad pat Michael on the shoulders and chuckle as he walks towards me.
“I will be at your house to pick you up at seven, Katie Blackwell, so be ready!” I make sure my dad isn't watching, and I shoot him the bird. I hear him laughing as he jogs through the street yelling, “I'm going on a date with Katie Blackwell Saturday!” at the top of his lungs. I don't care if he shows; I'm not going...
It's Saturday night, and I'm looking at myself in the mirror. I have a pair of jeans, some Sperry’s, and a shirt that says “I literally don't care” on it. I leave my long hair loose and put a headband on.
“So, are you nervous about your first date?” my mother asks from the doorway.
“No, I don't even know why I'm going! I don't even like that stupid Kerrigan boy!” I say, not looking my mother in the eyes because I know I'm telling a lie.
“Well, if you don't want to go I can tell him you aren't feeling well. He is in the living room talking to your father.”
I shoot up on my feet, grab my purse, and walk toward the living room.
“Hello, Michael.” He looks nice, he is wearing jeans and a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He smiles and hands me flowers.
“Thank you, they are beautiful,” I murmur, feeling the heat travel up to my face.
“I will have her home by eleven and if we are going to be a minute late I will call you and I know, if anything happens to her while she is with me they will never find my body!” Michael says with a serious face while my dad just grins.
“Very good! I’m glad you remembered everything I said,” my father says in a serious tone.
I give my dad a hug, and Michael walks me to his parent’s car. His mom and dad are inside, and they wave to my parents. Michael opens the car door for me and when I get inside, he closes it and gets in on the other side.
“OK, kids,” his mom says from the passenger seat. “The Hard Rock is right next to the movie theater so you guys can go to dinner, and your movie starts at 8:45 and ends at 10:25, we will be right here when the movie ends so have fun. Michael,” she says as he gets out. “do you have your phone and is it charged?”
“Yes,” he answers his mom.
“And check and make sure you have enough money.”
“Mom,” Michael says. “Dad gave me enough money.” He leans in and kisses his mom on the cheek.
“Wait! Stand next to each other, I want to get a picture of your first date.” We stand next to each other and smile as the flash in her camera goes off.
“Wait, one more!” his mom says. Michael leans in and puts his arm around me. I feel my face blush, and I see the flash go off again. They wave as they drive off.