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Authors: Alicia Kobishop

The Fine Line

BOOK: The Fine Line
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THE FINE LINE

 

Alicia Kobishop


 

This book is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

 

Copyright © 2013 by Alicia Kobishop

 

All rights reserved. 

 

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems without prior permission of the author except where permitted by law.

 

Published by

Alicia Kobishop

PO Box 510183

New Berlin, WI 53151

 

License Notes:

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

 

Cover by Mayhem Cover Creations

Edited by Angela Barer Farley

 


 

 

For Don 

My best friend…and so much more.


 

 

Prologue

 

 

Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves.  I learned a long time ago that preserving one’s heart means keeping it protected.  Sheltered.  My heart is hidden deep within the secure layers of my soul, where it rests easy with the knowledge that nothing can penetrate its everlasting impervious shell. 

 

Twelve Years Ago

 

Yelling.  Always yelling.  The hardwood floor in my bedroom chilled my toes as I slid out of my bed to see what was going on.  I wouldn’t dare leave my room, though.  I knew better.  As I tip-toed to the bright crack in the door, something crashed to pieces, and I squeezed Mama Bear tight. 

Is Mommy crying?

My hand found a place on the cool metal door knob as I peeked through the crack.  I brought Mama Bear up to my chin so she could see too.  Her soft, fuzzy fur tickled me.  Mommy sat on the floor with her back against the hallway wall, her head in her hands while Daddy stood tall above her.  Her shoulders lifted up and down as she wept. 

No, Mommy, don’t cry!

“I want a divorce,” she whispered.

What was a divorce?  Whatever it was, Daddy didn’t seem too happy about it.  He crouched down so that his eyes were across from hers.  Fisting her t-shirt, he yanked her close to him.  With the other hand, he pointed his finger at her, jabbing her as he spoke.  His voice stayed quiet, and I couldn’t hear what he said, but I knew it was something scary. 

The door knob made a noise as I accidentally let go of it, and both of their heads turned to look at me.  My eyes widened, and I gasped.  I ran back to bed as fast as I could, quickly covering myself in my blankie. 
Oh no, I dropped Mama Bear!
  My door creaked as it opened, and light came through the seams of my blankie.

“Olivia?” Daddy said softly.

I didn’t answer.  Mommy was always telling me to make smart choices.  I chose to stay perfectly still and not to breathe too loudly, but it wasn’t easy because my heart was pounding hard.  It was a smart choice, though, because after a few seconds, the door creaked closed. I was safe.  Mommy would be very proud of me.

I peered at the floor, searching for Mama Bear, but she was nowhere to be seen.  Daddy must’ve taken her. 
Who’s gonna sleep with me?
  I pulled my knees to my chest and held onto them tightly.  Mommy says I’m brave.  Brave girls don’t need silly toys.  Brave girls sleep by themselves.

 

Eight Years Ago

 

It’s been a year since Dad told me I wouldn’t be able to spend time at his house anymore.  He said he was leaving to get a new start.  At first, his emails came daily and postcards came weekly, but I haven’t gotten either for at least a month.  Mom says he’s moved on, with his new wife and baby, and that it’s the best thing for all of us. 

I was glad to have Kevin.  He loved me and Mom.  Happiness didn’t even begin to describe how I felt when Mom told me he was moving in with us.  If he lived with us, it would mean I would get to see magic tricks and laugh at his stories every day. 

Mom told me about the accident last week.  Kevin had gotten hit by a drunk driver.  I knew something was wrong when she dropped the phone on the floor and began sobbing.  I had seen her cry before—but never like that. 

I stayed with Nana for five days after that call, and when I returned home, Mom took me into my room, sat me down on my bed, and broke the news.  The funeral service had been the prior day.  Mom thought it would be best if I didn’t attend because it would be too difficult for me.  I cried myself to sleep that night.  I couldn’t get the thought of Kevin, being buried deep in the ground, out of my mind. 

The next morning, I thought a lot about the way things work, and I figured out that nothing’s forever.  Nothing.  I had to be strong.  Brave.  I hated being sad.  I hated crying.  I vowed to find a way to make sure I never felt this horrendous feeling ever again.

 

Three Years Ago

 

I looked around our heated garage as Adam poured the amber liquid into our little glasses.   All the tool chests and auto supplies had been packed up and hauled out.  He filled his glass to the brim while mine was only filled a quarter of the way.  He said I couldn’t have a full glass because I was only fourteen. 

Hanging out with Adam came naturally.  It was easy.  He was much younger than Mom, but I was under the misguided impression that they were in love, regardless of his age. 

Normally, the whiskey we shared was in celebration of an accomplishment.  A new paint job, installing the new engine, fixing the interior.  I had spent most of my evenings and weekends for the last three years watching Adam restore his 1968 Pontiac GTO.  He bragged to people about how much I helped him, but really, I just watched him work and handed him tools as we talked. 

Today, we toasted goodbye.  It would be the last time I’d ever see him.  My throat burned as the liquor flowed down it, but I welcomed the feeling.  It reminded me of good times.

“I’m gonna miss you, Sweetie,” he said with tears in his eyes.  “I asked her to marry me, you know.  She said no.” 

Anger quickly flooded my system, washing away the heartbreak.  How could she say no?  It had taken me over two years to let my guard down around him.  Two years to break the vow that I had kept for so long and let myself feel again.  She was making him go away.  This was her fault.

I watched as Adam rolled his refurbished car down the driveway and out of my life.  Without thought, my body stormed into the house in search of my mother.  I found her staring blankly out the living room window. 

“How could you say no?” I screamed.

“Livie, what are you talking about?” 

“He told me, Mom!  He told me he asked you to marry him!” 

Her shoulders sunk as she let out a breath.  Her expression turned angry.  “Did he tell you he was seeing another woman?  Did he tell you that he asked me to marry him only after I found out?”

My heart stopped.  My mind barely comprehended what my mother had just told me.  It couldn’t be true.  Adam loved us.  With regret in her eyes, she rushed toward me with open arms. 

“No.”  I held out my hand.  “NO!”  Tears spilled out of my eyes as I ran to my bedroom, locked my door, and flopped belly down onto my bed, sobbing uncontrollably into my pillow.

Why does everyone I love have to leave? 

Never again.  I’m done.  This is the last time I will ever have this feeling.


 

Chapter One

 

 

“Olivia, do you know those people in the parking lot?”  My manager had a worried look on her face as she approached me.  I had just finished facing the aisles at Frank’s Drugstore, my employer for the last nine months.  I had gotten the job just after my seventeenth birthday. 

It had been a slow, monotonous night, and I couldn’t wait to get off work.  I walked over to the glass front doors and peeked outside where I saw a familiar silver Chevy Impala parked in the back of the small lot.  It was an older model, about six years old, but still in mint condition. 

My best friend, Melody, leaned against it, cigarette in hand, as she laughed at something one of the boys must’ve said.  As I would’ve guessed, her boyfriend Nate was with her, and I noticed our good friend Isaac was here, too.  I wondered if it was the fact that they were all smoking that caused my manager’s nervousness.

“They’re here for me, Stacy,” I reassured her.

“Oh…Good,” she replied.  “Have a fun night.”

It felt good to get outside.  The fluorescent lights and stale, air-conditioned air had suffocated me.  I approached the car and smiled as Melody ran up to me and wrapped her arms around me.

“Hey, Liv!” she said, as she squeezed the air out of me.  “It’s about time.  We’re going to River Fest.  Hop in.”

Melody and I scooted into the backseat while the boys stayed up front.  Nate started his car and cranked up the volume on a Rihanna song as he pulled out of the parking lot.  After all, the little drugstore I worked at was located right on what is known as “the strip,” a highway where teenage boys and girls drove fast and cranked their music.  Who were we to break a tradition?

“Jesus, Nate!  Turn that down!  I wanna to talk to Liv!” shouted Melody.

Nate turned around, but only half-way, and put his hand to his ear as if to say,
“What?  I can’t hear you.”

“I said, TURN IT DOWN!” Melody yelled.

Nate shrugged as if he had no clue what Melody was saying and continued driving, leaving the volume right where it was.  He smiled as he turned to Isaac, and although I couldn’t hear them due to the incredibly loud stereo, I could see that they were both getting a kick out of Nate’s little joke. 

Melody and I looked at each other briefly, then bursted into giggles.  Clearly, we weren’t going to be having any meaningful conversations during this drive, so we enjoyed the music, singing along and “seat-dancing” to the music of Drake and Imagine Dragons.

Even though Melody and I were polar opposites, we felt like we accented each other.  She was outgoing, while I was a bit more of an introvert.  Not to say I couldn’t have fun…It just took me a little longer to open up to people.  Melody was beautiful with long dark brown hair, amber eyes, and a curvy figure that guys died for.  I thought of myself as a little more ordinary…tall and thin with blue eyes and long, wavy, strawberry blond hair.  We had been best friends from the moment we met, and I knew I could count on her for anything. 

We arrived at River Fest ten minutes later.  As we drove around, trying to find a parking spot, Isaac turned the volume down and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, bringing it to his ear.

“Hey, man…Yeah, we’re here,” Isaac said into the phone.  “I know.  Sorry, we had to wait for Liv to get off work…She’s Mel’s friend…Ok, see you in a few.”

Apparently, we were late.  I didn’t feel good about being the reason we were late.  Hell, I didn’t even know I was coming here tonight.

“Who are we meeting here?” I asked.

“Just some friends.  Logan and Carter.  They’re cool,” Isaac replied as we got out of the car and began walking toward the festival.  I could hear a mixture of laughter and screams from the people on the rides and the low pound of the music in the distance.

“You’ll
love
Logan,” Melody chimed in.  “He’s…”  She looked at her boyfriend, then back at me and grinned, “Cute.”  Nate rolled his eyes.  She may as well have winked and given me a thumbs up for God’s sake.  That girl was not subtle. 

Mel was always trying to set me up with boys, and it never failed to be incredibly awkward.  She knew how I felt about relationships—that they’re a waste of time–but that never stopped her from trying.  I hoped this Logan person didn’t think this was a set-up. 

She tried with Isaac a few months ago, and although he’s a great guy and extremely attractive in a punk rocker sort of way, there were never any romantic sparks.  After hanging out together a few times, we came to the mutual conclusion that we had fun together—but it was a platonic kind of fun and nothing more. 

We didn’t have to walk far before we got to the tent where we were meeting the other guys.  There was a rock band playing, and it looked like people were getting carded as they entered the tent.

I turned to Isaac, concerned.  “They’re not going to let me in there.  I don’t have a fake ID.”

BOOK: The Fine Line
10.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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