Hook, Line and Sinker

Seven’s name was Dom, short for Dominic.

I found out that vital information in the morning when I came running down the stairs. Frantically running my fingers through my long blonde hair to make myself look somewhat presentable. I was late for school which was unusual for me and had left me in an unfamiliar panic.

As soon as I entered the kitchen my jaw dropped. There was my mom and Seven standing in the kitchen, him in his boxers, which were decorated with little Marvel superheroes and her in her dark red silk robe with black lace trim that Number Two had bought her in an attempt to persuade her to get back with him. It hadn’t worked.

Mom was standing at the stove with her back to me, her hand clenching the skillet’s handle as the pancake batter bubbled away inside. Seven was behind her, his head nuzzled in the crook between her neck and shoulder, his arms wrapped around her waist.

Normally Mom was a wham, bam, thank you man kind of woman, as much as it shames me to admit it. The ones that she actually did end up dating, well, even they never stayed for breakfast. They most certainly didn’t wander around my house half naked at 7 am.

Oh, look, there’s that damn number again. I’m telling you, that number is the bane of my existence.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat, loudly. I watched with a twisted sense of satisfaction as they sprung apart like they’d been burnt. Mom spun around and looked at me, her cheeks going as red as her robe. Seven just crossed his muscled arms and stared at me as if I was some alien life form.

“Crap. Sorry Honey, I forgot-,” Mom let her words trail off and I watched the emotions play over her eyes. I felt sadness swell up inside me. I could see it there in her eyes as plain as day, she’d forgotten about me. It didn’t matter if it was for a second or a whole night, for some time she’d forgotten I even existed and that cut me deep.

“Poppy, Honey, this is Dominic. I met him last night.” She explained in a hushed tone, her eyes flickering between the two of us to see how we were reacting to the other. I quickly schooled my face into a nonchalant expression, as if seeing Seven in the kitchen, in his novelty underwear was a every day occurrence.

“Call me Dom,” No, thank you, Seven. I thought bitterly in his direction, then turned to look at him, narrowing my eyes.

He was just my mom’s type. Tall, tanned and muscled. He had a shock of dark blonde hair that was sticking up every which way, as if he’d just climbed out of bed. For all I knew he probably had.

“Would you like some breakfast, Poppy?” Mom offered, flipping over the pancake that was in the skillet. The unmistakable stench of burning pancakes filled my nostrils and I wrinkled my nose.

“No,” I replied, ignoring Seven, who was still staring at me like I was going to sprout wings. Seriously, hadn’t he ever seen an eighteen year old before? “I’m quite concerned about the hygiene of all the food in this house at the moment.”

My mom winced at the harshness in my tone. Maybe I was acting like a brat, but I didn’t know how to deal with having two semi clothed people with their hands all over each other in the kitchen. Plus, my heart still stung a little from the fact that my mom had forgotten all about the fact that she even had a daughter.

“I’m going to be late for school,” I hinted, hoping she’d at least offer to give me a ride to school.

“I had too much to drink last night and couldn’t drive home, I had to leave my car at the bar. Can you get Maya to drive you, baby?”

I rolled my eyes at her and was just about to storm out of the house in a way that would make Maya, self proclaimed teen drama queen, proud when Seven spoke up. “I can give you a ride.” He grinned, his lips stretching back to reveal his pearly whites.

“No—,”

“Oh baby, would you? That would be just perfect,” Mom focused her green eyed gaze upon him, smiling radiantly. I, in return narrowed my own green eyes. I didn’t want a ride from her one night stand. I would rather walk in a thunder storm than get a ride off him.

“Yeah,” he said, coming up to her and giving her a kiss on the cheek. Mom sighed happily and her eyes fluttered closed. “I should probably put some clothes on first though,”

They giggled at each other and as Seven turned to walk up the stairs my mom slapped his behind with the dish cloth.

When he was out of hearing range I let out the groan I’d been holding in. “Someone pass me a bucket, I’m gonna puke.”

My mom whirled around on me, her posture rigid, her eyes angry with her mouth curving downwards in disappointment. She leveled the spatula at me, shaking it warningly. “Be nice, Poppy. I mean it.”

Well it didn’t look like I was going to get out of that ride, not without getting myself into a lot of trouble.

I eased myself onto a bar stool and watched as my mom slid the spatula under the pancake and then flipped it onto the china plate beside it. It was our fine china. I gazed at it suspiciously, Mom only ever got it out when we had important guests. What had Seven done to deserve this kind of treatment?

She was humming to herself, it was a happy tune and she had a huge smile on her face. I may not like Seven, or any of the guys she brings home but if they brought a smile like that to her face then I would try and be nice. As long as they wore clothes around the house.

I shuddered, if I never saw those superhero boxers again, it would be too soon.

Seven came bounding down the stairs, his flip-flops slapping against the wooden staircase. He kissed my mom’s cheek again and slapped her ass. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from saying something that wasn’t exactly nice and would most likely get me into trouble.

“You ready to go?”

With a nod I left the house, Seven following behind me. There, parked on our driveway, where Mom’s beat up Ford usually sits was a sleek, black sports car. I don’t know much about cars, but I knew enough to say that this particular car was worth a lot of money.

I settled myself into the seat, the leather sticking to my bare skin. Seven climbed in beside me, flashing me a grin as he slid on his sunglasses. I narrowed my eyes at him. There was something about him, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on, that set my nerves on edge.

As he was backing out of the drive I saw my mom standing in the door way, a content smile on her face as she waved to us.

I remembered my first day of school with perfect clarity. I had woken up early, unable to sleep any longer because of how excited I was. I had bounded into my parents room, jumping on their bed and squealing at them to wake up. My mom had looked at me with a tired smile lighting up her face, while my dad watched me with amusement.

He’d looked at Mom and whispered sarcastically into her ear; “You think she’s excited?” Mom had then put me in a frilly, green summer dress that billowed out around my knees. She put my hair into pigtails and warned me not to be naughty or Miss Trunchbull might come and swing me around by them, like in Matilda.

Then she had stood by the door as me and my sister climbed into Dad’s car and as we drove away she waved enthusiastically at us, a huge grin upon her face.

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and willed myself not to cry. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry! I told myself, repeating it until the urge was quelled.

Seven put the car into gear, only he didn’t get very far because a black motorbike came roaring down the drive next door. Seven slammed on his brakes and I only had just enough time to put my hands on the dashboard to prevent my face from slamming against it.

Seven blared his horn, shouting expletives at the rider who sat atop his bike as if it were a horse. I watched as the rider of the bike turned and cast a look at the car which he’d just cut off. The visor was down on the helmet, but I didn’t have to see the face underneath to know who it was. I’d been on the back of that very bike many, many times before.

Tyler damn bubble gum Burke.

• • •

“Poppy!” I heard a voice yell and I turned my head around looking for culprit. I saw one of my friends, Greta, waving her arms above her head like she was trying to direct a plane.

I was sitting outside school, cross legged on top of a picnic table soaking up the rays of the elusive sun. We’d had a harsh winter and for a while the rain looked like it would never stop, then finally the sun started peeking out from behind the clouds and everyone was taking full advantage.

Maya sat beside me on the table, her boyfriend Will sat on the bench, one of her legs on either side of him and they were kissing each other as if their lives depended on it.

Eliza, was sitting behind us on the grass, her back pressed against the rough bark of an oak tree, reading yet another romance novel.

James and Kent were kicking a ball back and forth and when I watched it was almost hypnotic.

Hannah was going all out, she was in a strapless top and one of the shortest skirts I’d ever seen. She had recruited the help of our friend Callum who was now slapping coconut oil all over her bared skin as she lay on the grass.

Greta boosted herself up onto the table beside me, flicking her dark hair over one shoulder before she gathered it all up and piled it on top of her head in a messy bun.

“What’s up?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me once again.

She smiled, a small sweet smile that made you want to smile right back at her. “Who’s car was that you were getting out of this morning, Missy?” She nudged me with her elbow, her voice taking on a teasing tone.

I bit my lip. Maya was the only one who knew about my home situation, I liked to keep my life as private as possible. I mean all my friends knew that my parents had gotten divorced, but what most of them didn’t know is that my dad had been having an affair with his secretary and that I had caught them. They didn’t know that my mom drank nearly every day and that she’d had seven one night stands in the past five months.

“My mom’s new boyfriend,” I said, injecting what I thought was the appropriate amount of enthusiasm into my tone. I hoped to God I didn’t overdo it.

“Awh,” Hannah said from her place on the grass, turning her head to look at me through her veil of red hair. “That’s good that she’s moving on.”

Inside I wanted to scream. I didn’t want my mom to move on, not with someone like Seven anyway. I wanted her to be with a guy who deserved her and I got the feeling that Seven didn’t even come close. But instead I just smiled at my friends and said a simple “Yeah, it is.”

“So,” Greta started, her tone uncertain and a little bit afraid. “You know Tyler’s back right?” I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, because even though I did, in fact, know that he was back the sound of his name still hurt me.

“Oh yeah?” Hannah turned around, suddenly all ears. “Callum get off of me,” Callum shot her a devilish smile and pulled his hand away from her thigh, where it had been getting just a little bit too close to the hem of her skirt, if you ask me.

“Don’t blame me when you get tan lines,”

The look of horror on Hannah’s face made me burst out into a fit of giggles. Maybe it was the fact that I’d hardly any sleep because all I could think about was Tyler and his smooth voice. Or maybe it was the fact that I was angry over my parents divorce, or that I’d been subjected to the traumatizing scene in the kitchen this morning. But either way, I broke down into giggles and each time I looked at Hannah it just started again.

My friends all looked at me like I was crazy and a part of me was beginning to agree with them. Maybe I was? What was so bad about being crazy? But eventually they started smiling and giggling along with me.

When we all calmed down about five minutes later Hannah turned to Greta. “How is that sexy brother of yours? Did boot camp make him even sexier? He must be dying for a bit of action after all those lonely nights, I’d be only too happy to keep him company if you know what I mean.”

Greta flushed scarlet and my blood ran cold. James and Kent stopped passing the ball between them and stared at Hannah with wide eyes, even Callum looked a little shocked.

Maya glanced at me and I could see the question burning in her brown eyes; You okay? I gave her a small smile and an almost imperceptible nod of my head before pushing myself off the picnic table and grabbing my backpack.

I started to walk into the red brick building that loomed ahead. School. The one place where I could concentrate. Where everything had a right or wrong answer. Where I could think about anything other than how my life was going to hell in a handbasket.

Behind me I could hear Greta’s disgusted response, “Ew, Hannah. That’s my brother you’re talking about.”

I could hear Maya, “What the hell do you think you’re doing Hannah? You know Poppy is still fragile, it’s like you just want to be a bitch sometimes.”

Then the bell rang, drowning out all the noise. Thank God for small miracles.