Saturday, January 15, 2011

SnappleApple450 Week 34: Where Do You Go When Nobody Wants You (Part 2)

SnappleApple 450

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SnappleApple 450's Choice: Picture 2

Where Do You Go When Nobody Wants you? (Part 2)

I couldn’t say the plane ride made me think about my actions or made me want to change, but it did make me regret getting caught. I remembered seeing the newspaper cover of me in my polka dot underwear getting arrested. I had been doing a lap dance for a guy when the cops busted the party, catching me with alcohol and drugs. I don’t regret my fun life, but I regret certain actions at certain times. I still enjoyed doing lap dances for guys, feeling their discomfort grow in their pants before I’d leave them for the next guy. I just should have chosen my parties better. More discreet parties… I’d be back to partying as soon as I got home, and I couldn’t wait.

Bianca had passed out, resting her head on the driver’s shoulder. “Waaaaake uuuuup!” Corky’s voice rang.

She winced. “I will open my eyes and you better be out of my sight,” she threatened. She counted to five in her head and opened her eyes. Corky was grinning inches from her face.
“Come on out of the cold, Bianca,” she heard a female voice.

Bianca scooted out of the warm truck and made a mad dash for the light pouring from inside the house. She saw a fireplace and ran for it, hands outstretched.


Everyone chuckled, walking inside. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

“You must have packed something warm in those suitcases,” the lady gave a laugh.

Bianca stared at her. “I didn’t expect my summer to be spent in the snow, to be quite honest,” she was very bitter, but the family was oblivious.

“Welcome to our home. I’m Mrs. Judy Bowers, this is my husband, John Bowers, and my two sons, Corky and Christopher.” Bianca looked at the boy sitting on the couch with his nose buried in a book. “Chris, show some manners. I’ll start on dinner while the boys get your bags unloaded.” Everyone left the room, leaving Chris and Bianca alone.

He raised his eyes and closed his book. “So you’re the infamous Bianca Stratford.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he smirked at her.

She was in a daze, staring at him. He had sea green eyes and his hair was wavy falling in his face, he had the perfect build that not even his turtleneck could hide. “Uh…” she didn’t remember the question. Was it even a question?

He chuckled. “Jet lag much?”

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “What would you know about it?” She countered.

“I went to New York once,” he leaned back. “Bunch of rich, uppity, annoying girls thinking the bigger their sunglasses, the flashier their clothes, and the more make-up they wear, the better they are.”

Bianca was already making mental plans to dump her sunglasses the first chance she got…all twenty pairs of them.

He chuckled as if to guess what she was thinking. “All you New Yorkers are the same.” He got up, dropping his book on the couch.

Bianca’s face heated up in anger. He judged her without even knowing her. “So that’s it? You’re going to condemn me and think you can walk off? You don’t know me!”

He stopped and turned around. “I know enough about you to say I don’t want to have anything to do with you.” He stepped towards her, matching her glare. “I can tell by your manicured nails, your perfectly plucked eyebrows, expensive clothes, and glossed lips,” he was inches from her face; any closer and he could probably taste what flavor her glossed lips were. “You’re no different.”

She didn’t know what to say as he walked away. “Don’t you have that saying ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ in this godforsaken place?” she yelled.

He chuckled, not turning around. “Out of curiosity, why are you here? I doubt it’s on account of good behavior.” And with that, he walked out.

He was right, but she wasn’t going to let him talk to her like that. “Asshole!” she yelled, feeling defeated. She pulled her cell phone out to make a call to her best friend.

“Uh-uh that won’t work here,” Mr. Bowers came in laughing.

Bianca slammed her phone shut and shoved it in her pocket. “Of course not,” she grumbled.

“Where did Chris go?”

Bianca glared at the man. “With any luck, he walked over a cliff.”

Mr. Bowers laughed again. “Nah, there are no cliffs for miles!”
Bianca’s anger deepened. “Water he can drown in,” she continued to plot.

“Frozen solid.”


“That would require a mountain.”

Bianca huffed, falling onto the couch.

“Sorry sweetie, whether you like it here or not, you can’t kill my son. He just doesn’t know you. He’s shy to strangers. He’ll warm up to you.”

“I’d rather he stay out of my way.”

“That’s not gonna happen either. He’s sorta in charge of you for two months.”

Bianca’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

Mrs. Bowers walked in,lacing her arm around her husband. “We felt it would be best for the both of you…” she paused as her husband finished her sentence.

“If you played together, and he could teach you - show you that drugs are not the answer and how full your life can be.” They smiled at each other.

Bianca gave a look somewhere between a blank stare and burning fury. “That doesn’t make any sense, and I’m not addicted to drugs. I’m just here to fulfill my sentence and go on with my life.”

“Mr. Stratford asked me personally to straighten you out. I intend to return his daughter in the right mindset and attitude.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Then setting me with that,” she caught her tongue before saying something else, “son of yours is the wrong way to do it.”

Mrs. Bowers chuckled, “Nonsense! You’ll love each other by the time this summer is over!”

Bianca glared daggers at her. “Where’s my bedroom? I think I’ll turn in early.”

“Oh but dinner is almost ready!” Mrs. Bowers fussed. “We’re having fish.”

Bianca stood up. “I’m a vegetarian.”

They shared a look of confusion about what to do now, before Mr. Bowers stood up too. “I’ll show you your room, but you won’t like it.”

“It gets me away from—“

Mr. Bowers opened the bedroom door and she saw Chris lounging with a book, listening to music.

She backed away from the door. “Hell no.”

“Now Miss Stratford, I know it’s not like your house back home, but he’s offered to let you sleep on his top bunk.”

Chris, without looking up, replied. “I did not, you forced me.”

Mr. Bowers chuckled, slightly embarrassed. “Well I hope you guys get along.” He pushed her into the room and closed the door.

“Might as well bar the door,” she grumbled.

Chris chuckled emptily. “No point. If you run, you’ll die before you see civilization.”

Bianca leaned against the door and slid to the ground. “This is Hell.”

“I would think California would be since it’s hotter,” he smirked.

“Why’d you say California?” She asked suspicious.

He sat up, kicking his feet over the side of his bed. “I do believe you told a reporter that’s where you’re going for the summer.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been reading up on me?”

Chris chuckled. “When I heard I was going to have to share the same state as you, I researched.”

Bianca scoffed. “Research, right!”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you insinuating?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying anything.” She pulled her bags towards the dresser and opened a drawer.

Chris quickly jumped from his bed and slammed the drawer shut. “This is mine.”

She tried to open the next one down. He moved his entire body in front of her, blocking her access to the dresser.

“So so where do my clothes go?” She stuck her hand on her hip and glared.

He looked shock. “You mean there isn’t a pop-up dresser in one of your bags?”

She huffed, slamming her bag against him and moving to the bed. He groaned in pain but raced to the bed.

“Bottom bunk is mine too.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You expect me to climb to my bed?”

He nodded happily.

“Bite me,” she mumbled.

“No thanks. I’d prefer not to touch you. There’s no telling what kind of New York scum you have on your body.”

She rolled her eyes as she unzipped one of her bags. “Don’t I get off for good behavior?”

He fell down onto his bed, resting his head on his hands. “That usually only goes for jail and actually requires good behavior.”

She pulled out her robe and nightgown and concealed it in her hand. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall on the left,” he mumbled.

She snuck out of the room with her robe and ran to the bathroom. Once she was dressed in the purple lace nightgown with the long slit up the side, she pushed her boobs up, and fluffed her hair before wrapping the robe around her body and scooting back to the room.

She closed the door and slid her robe off seductively, letting it fall to her feet. Chris didn’t even look up from his book. She walked over to the foot of his bed and smiled demurely. “When I said good behavior, I meant good in bed.”

He finally looked up and stared at her. “And when I said I wouldn’t touch you, I meant touching of any kind.“ He pulled the book back up.

Bianca’s face grew red with anger. “Fuck you.”

“I just turned you down, Bee, quit asking,” he mumbled.

She clenched her hands into fists and climbed up to her bed, pulling the covers over her head. She hated Christopher Bowers. There was no way they’d ever get along.