Roxanne

006.

I wasn’t really able to see my aunt’s house from the outside due to the fact that my eyes were blurry considering I had fallen asleep in the car on the way to it. My aunt didn’t even really bother to completely wake me up, either. Instead, she managed to wake me up enough so that I could walk and somewhat see in front of me so that she could lead me into what would be my room for my stay.

I truly hadn’t had any idea of just how tired I was until the car ride, really. When I had gotten into my aunt’s beautiful Mercedes, I had been so caught up in disappointment of my brief farewell to Billie that I hadn’t noticed that I had fallen asleep until my aunt was waking me up.

My aunt’s house was actually quite beautiful on the inside, though. From what I managed to see through clouded eyes as I stumbled up a long case of stairs, it was absolutely gorgeous. Her floors were an almost black wood while her walls were white. Black and white photography that I believe she herself took was hung up on the walls of cities such as LA and Manhattan throughout the whole third floor, including my guest room.

Throughout my whole life I had been a black and white fanatic. My outfits usually consisted of a black and white pattern, such as a white t-shirt and black pants or in the summer a black and white patterned sun dress. My room was styled black and white and I was heavily into black and white photography as well as she. A lot of people complained that black and white was boring, however I never saw it all. I had been born blessed with a creative mind.

I remember faintly mumbling a few incoherent words to my aunt about wanting to live with her forever because I loved her house, but that’s about as far as it goes. For the next twelve hours I had been sound asleep, curled up in the white sheet and black pillows of the Queen-sized bed in the guest bedroom. I had had no idea how much energy flying took out of you.

When I had woken up much later I felt ashamed to have spent my first day in California sleeping. I had been planning in my head for a while what I would have liked to do and sleeping was honestly not on the list.

I scowled and sat up in the comfortable bed after a moment of just lying there. I looked to my right and for the first time I noticed an incredibly large mirror mounted on a dresser that was, not surprisingly, made out of a dark wood.

I looked like hell.

Though I had somehow managed put my hair up within the time that I had gotten out of the car at my aunt’s house to the that I had passed out, half of my hair had spilled out of the tie and was hanging around some of my face while the other was still pulled back. The makeup that I had put on hours ago and touched up quickly at O’Hare was now all over my face, mascara and all. I had the absolute worst case of raccoon eyes.

Despite the pathetic excuse for a girl I was at the moment, I couldn’t help but to giggle at my appearance.

I was a bit worried after I had finally completely woken up because it was then that for the first time I realized that I had no idea as to where the hell I was. Any past memory of the house that I had seen while being practically unconscious had been erased from my mind over the last twelve hours. I may as well have been outside walking around Berkeley seeing as I was just as lost inside. Hell, at this point I was probably better off back in O’Hare without Billie.

I did just about everything in my will to procrastinate from opening up my bedroom door because I knew as soon as I did so, I’d spend a good five or ten minutes stumbling around blindly trying to figure out where the hell I was and where the hell I was going. My sense of direction was absolutely terrible.

During my time of procrastination, I had found out that attached to my bedroom was a pretty damn large bathroom that was decorated just as my room had been. I took just about the longest shower I think I had ever taken in the duration of my life and then took my sweet time searching through my bags that had somehow made an appearance in my room [that or I hadn’t noticed them] for an outfit. When I had finished dressing in just a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top and blew dry my hair [to perfection because I had the time] I finally sat down on my bed and checked my phone. I ignored the seventeen missed calls that were from my mother and Sadie I assumed and instead looked at the clock.

I had somehow managed to waste two hours.

Slightly proud of myself, I stood up and stretched my arms far above the head. I dropped my phone onto the bed behind me and then very hesitantly stepped over to the door to finally open it and allow myself to go through hell. Two hours was a good amount of wasted time and I figured that it was about the right time to let my aunt know that I was actually alive.

I didn’t bother to try and surprise myself by miraculously finding my way throughout the house, but instead did exactly as I knew I would—stumble blindly and became agitated. I found myself nearly kissing the ground when I had finally found a staircase at the end of a hallway that seemed to branch off of thousands upon thousands of others.

I followed the stairs down to what looked to be an incredibly large and incredibly beautiful foyer that I didn’t remember at all from when I had gotten into the house much earlier that day. Reaching the foyer was like a breath of fresh air in my mind because I knew that I couldn’t be all too far from civilization. If my aunts home was anything like mine, the foyer would lead to a lounge which most likely could lead to a dining room eventually and then to a kitchen.

Thankfully, I hadn’t been all that far off.

In all of five minutes later I found myself in the kitchen of my aunt’s large and exceedingly confusing home. My aunt had been situated at a stool at the island in the middle of the kitchen with her eyes focused upon a laptop sitting on front of her. When she realized that I was there and breathing, a warm grin spread over her lips and she closed the screen to her laptop a bit to see me. “You’re alive!”

I never liked it when people did that—stating that you’re alive after sleeping for a long time, that is. Whether it was meant to be sweet or funny it always came off as sarcastic and slightly rude to me. People slept, get over it. I didn’t care much when my aunt said it though and I think it was just because I was glad to have finally found her.

“Yeah.” I chuckled as I crossed the large kitchen and also sat on a stool near her. I didn’t have much to say.

My aunt grinned and stood up from her stool. She picked up her plate that I hadn’t noticed she had until then and brought it over to the sink that wasn’t all that far from the island. “I made pasta, do you want some? I imagine you’ve got to be pretty hungry.”

I was the kind of girl that could eat my own weight and most days usually did. I ate nonstop but was blessed with a metabolism that made most people hate me. However, right now I wasn’t all that hungry. “No, I’m alright. But thanks.”

My aunt nodded and placed her dish on the drying racks next to the sink before coming back over to the island and sitting back down. “I’m not that good of a cook,” she admitted. “I’m actually terrible, so I apologize in advanced for all the takeout that we’ll probably be eating.”

I laughed at that. I adored cooking. I was a stereotypical girl, really. I adored to cook and I wore pretty much nothing but sundresses in the summer. Bryan had used to joke about me belonging in the 1950’s as a housewife. I never took it as an insult because there was a few times where I agreed.

“I love to cook,” I admitted as I pulled my hair over one of my shoulders. “I cook all the time. Dad says I get it from mom.” I shrugged slowly. “I can cook any time you want.”

My aunt’s eyes lit up at that. “Really? I never knew that. Your mother told me how into photography you were but never cooking.”

It was true. Ever since I had been about thirteen years old I had had an obsession with photography. I loved to take it and brought my camera with me wherever I went because of it. For the past few years I had been planning on having a career in a photography field, such as photography for magazines of any sort. Even if I didn’t end up perusing my career in photography, I planned to always have it in my life.

I laughed. “Because mom hardly let’s me cook when it comes to other than baking.”

My home wasn’t the typical home where none of the ladies wanted to cook dinner—in fact it was quite the opposite. My mother had loved to cook since a young girl and so did I. Of course, my mother won when it came down to making dinner most nights but it didn’t stop me from baking. Because I wasn’t allowed in the kitchen a whole lot to make meals I baked a lot. It was where my metabolism came in handy.

My aunt grinned at me and then looked back to her laptop. “Feel free to bake and cook here any time; I just warn you that you’ll have to buy most things beforehand because I don’t cook.” She waved a hand dismissively at me. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll give you the money for it.”

I liked my aunt a lot already. A part of me had been slightly worried that once I arrived in Berkeley my aunt would be overly-protective and try to plan out my summer for me beforehand like most adults did. However, she seemed to be doing quite the opposite.

“Oh,” she mumbled after a moment. I watched as she pointed to a portable phone sitting on the other end of the island. “Your mother called and reminded me hundreds of times to have you call her back when you woke up.”

I groaned and my aunt laughed. “She told me to call when I got here,” I admitted.

“I know,” my aunt agreed, “but don’t worry, dear; I told her that you were a barely-walking corpse and that you passed out right away.”

“Thank you.” I sighed as I hunched over the counter.

My aunt nodded and turned back to her laptop. I found myself staring out through the French doors in her kitchen into what I assumed to be the back yard. Realizing what I was staring at, my aunt gave me a brief explanation. “That’s just the back yard. I’ve got a pool if you want to go swimming and sun chairs if you want to tan.” I grinned. Whenever I thought of California I had always imagined tan people. Becoming tan was what I was planning on doing by the end of my stay.

“Great,” I stated. I didn’t have much else to say other than that.

My aunt smiled and clicked he tongue in thought for a moment. Her eyes then focused in on my face. “I suppose I should set a few ground rules seeing as I’ve got work tomorrow.”

I nodded slowly yet somewhat dismissively. I understood that I was a teenager, which of course meant I was young and immature and needed rules to be set—but what could I really do? I knew no one in California. Literally.

“Alright,” she murmured thoughtfully, “alright. I don’t care if you go out during the day; this isn’t a house arrest. However, I don’t want to come home to see you and any guy that you may meet one day in that pool—especially not tomorrow. You can cook, in fact, please do, but don’t burn down my house. I like it a lot.” I chuckled at that. “Umm,” she hummed, “I don’t know, darling. You’re a pretty good kid from what I’ve heard. Just don’t do anything that makes you wonder if you’ll get in trouble if you’re caught.”

I laughed at the lack of my aunt’s rules. “I’m good in solitude so don’t worry. I won’t burn down the house and I know absolutely no one here.”

My aunt cocked an eyebrow, seeming amused by my words. “You and that blonde at the airport seemed to know each other pretty well.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. Her statement had only amused me because “that blonde” and I hadn’t known each other well at all. My aunt grinned at me and for the first time I realized that I was somewhat blushing at even the thought of that damn blonde. “I don’t know him,” I countered. The worst part was that it was the truth. “He just ended up helping me here because I don’t know crap about airports.”

To say that the man from the airport hadn’t crossed my mind since we departed would be a boldface lie because he had. As to why, well, I couldn’t really explain that.

“He was an asshole, anyway,” I added. It was true. He was an asshole.

My aunt winked at me. “Of course, sweetie. All men are. What’s his name?”

“Billie,” I stated bluntly.

“Billie?” She asked. I knew she was waiting for me to continue with the rest of his name and I would have had I known it.

“Um,” I hummed. “I don’t know. He never told me. He didn’t like to talk about himself I think.”

My aunt stared at me for a moment, almost as if wondering if I was really telling the truth. Once she realized that I actually was, she looked at me sympathetically. “Oh. I’m sorry, that’s a shame.” She smiled sweetly to me.

I nodded slowly to myself, thinking over the words that she had just said. “I suppose,” I agreed. It was quite a shame, really. I agreed completely in my mind.

My aunt smiled up at me and then turned back to her laptop. She continued to work as I lost myself in thought for a few minutes but then abruptly stopped. “I should head up to bed,” my aunt admitted. “I’ve got to get up early. You’ll be alright, won’t you?” I nodded and she smiled. “I’ll leave some money for you in case you want to go to the market. I’ll leave directions, too. There are keys to the other car hanging up over there.” She pointed to a small black hook on the wall that a pair of keys were indeed hanging from. “Does that sound alright?”

“I can pay for food,” I offered.

My aunt waved a hand dismissively at me. “Don’t be silly, it’s not your job to pay for the food.” She grinned. “I’m just excited to eat it if you’re as good of a cook as you say.”

Well, who was I to argue?

I didn’t feel like leaving the house the next day and so I did absolutely nothing but tan. Due to the fact that I was Irish, I had the luck of doing just about everything other than tanning. After lying outside for a good three or so hours my skin didn’t turn much darker at all. The lack of color on my body didn’t exactly call for a fantastic mood or much motivation when it came to tanning for the rest of the summer.

It was the next day that I forced myself to shower and try to read my aunts directions to the closest market to her house. I hadn’t bothered to put on makeup or do anything special on account that I didn’t know anyone in California. Instead of taking an hour or so to get ready, I threw on a dress and a pair of wedges. I didn’t bother to do my hair but instead just dried it and put it up quickly.

I was incredibly impressed with myself while reading the directions my aunt had given me. I never had had a good sense of direction in the least and so when I pulled into the parking lot to the large supermarket that I had been directed to it was hard to resist the urge to do a victory dance in the parking lot.

I grabbed my purse from the surprisingly beautiful BMW that my aunt had allowed me to drive and briskly walked across the parking lot and into the large store. I was what you’d call a terrible grocery shopper. I was one of those people that would go to the market for a certain item and end up buying just about everything but. My parents never sent me to the store after I had done it the first few times.

I grabbed a small basket from beside the automatic doors and headed off around the market in a state that I often found myself these days—lost. However, I really didn’t mind it. Not now, at least. Because now I found myself in a fantastic mood as I walked from aisle to aisle slowly. The fact that I was currently in California and away from all my troubles back in Connecticut seemed to finally seep in and there was an uncontrollable grin on my face. Originally I was to be staying here for three or so weeks but I had the strongest feeling that by the end of those weeks I’d be asking to stay for the more.

I walked down the dairy isle slowly while subconsciously swinging my basket, only paying attention to the sound of my heels clicking against the floors. I finally stopped walking and turned to face the cartons of eggs before me. I fidgeted with my Ray Ban wayfarer sunglasses as I looked over the cartons. My sunglasses were the only thing that I hadn’t thrown out that Bryan had given me and that was simply just because I loved them.

I placed my basket on the floor in front of the eggs and bent over a bit to pick out a carton. Bending over was the only problem I really had with dresses. My dresses weren’t short, but I still never felt comfortable bending over while wearing them. All of my dresses went to my kneecaps, but even with that I had had my share of perverts. The only difference was that I didn’t have a certain eighteen year old male here to make me feel a bit more comfortable about it.

It had taken me a good few minutes or so before I had finally found a carton with fresh eggs that hadn’t had any eggs that were broken or had any cracks. I was lucky with it, too, seeing as I was beginning to get a bit agitated at the lack of good eggs. I shifted the carton to one hand as I went to stand up straight and fix my dress that I was often paranoid about, however the plan backfired quickly.

As I was looking down at the hem of my sundress, someone had placed a cool hand on the arm that was of course attached to the hand that I was holding the eggs in. Considering I was a bit of a jumpy person and completely unprepared for the coolness of the contact along any contact from another person in general, I gasped and jumped. As I did so, my perfect carton of eggs had managed to slide from my hand and land on the ground between the person that was the cause of this and myself with a splat. I stared down at the carton of now obviously broken eggs with my mouth opened in whatever was between shock and anger.

“Shit,” the cause muttered. “Shit. Sorry.”

At the sound of a familiar voice, I lifted my eyes from the carton full of now broken eggs and to the male that, for a moment, had shattered my perfect mood. My shattered mood didn’t last long, though, because I quickly realized exactly who was the reason for the broken eggs.

Billie chuckled nervously and then squatted down next to the eggs. He picked up the carton slowly and opened it up to reveal what looked like just an explosion of egg. I’m not sure why it was so amusing but I found myself laughing at the complete mess in his hands. Upon hearing my snickering, Billie also laughed. He stood up straight while still holding the carton and offered it to me although I doubt he was serious about it. I took a step back in return and put my hands up in front of me as if to protect myself from the mess and he laughed before closing the carton carefully.

“Um,” Billie mumbled. He lifted a hand from the carton and placed it on the back of his neck as he looked around timidly. Once seeing that no one was around, he turned and quickly shoved the egg carton back to where all the others were.

I snorted loudly and lifted a hand to cover my mouth as I followed him to the other side of the aisle where the eggs were that I had run from when he had “offered” me the broken ones. “You can’t put them back!” I cried. “They’ve practically exploded all over the case—inside and out.” I pointed towards the floor where there was a noticeable amount of egg on it.

Billie lifted a hand and placed a finger over his lips, shushing me. “It wasn’t us.” To hide any evidence, he wiped his hands on the pair of rather tight black jeans that he was wearing. Before I had time to do anything, which included allowing the fact that I was somehow reunited with the blonde from the airport, Billie had placed a hand on my back as he had done in O’Hare and quickly lead me from the aisle.