Page 269 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

“Great. I’m going to run down the street and pick up a few beers for us.”

“That’s not necessary. I have some wine,” I offered, and she laughed.

“I’m sure you do, but I don’t want anything fancy. We were eating pizza and drinking beer at thirteen unless you’ve forgotten all of that since leaving Cali.”

“I haven’t,” I told her as I remembered exactly what she was referring to. Our parents had worked quite a bit which meant the two of us would be left alone. When they’d leave us together, they often ordered pizza from whichever national chain had a deal, and we would scrounge around the houses for their stash of alcohol. Cheap pizza and cheaper beer. It was so reminiscent of our teenage years. I was now feeling a bit sentimental and assumed Carley was as well.

“It is supposed to rain so if you would rather take my car, it’s fine,” I told her.

Carley smiled. “That would be awesome. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I walked over to my purse and retrieved the keys to my Lexus ES and handed them off to her. “Please make sure you park it back in the same space. We have designated parking here.”

“Will do, and I’ll be so quick that you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

I doubted that, but I smiled nonetheless. My cousin left and I stood there by the side table and looked out into my living room. Carley had already made her presence known because I could see a pair of her shoes on the floor next to the oversized recliner, and her makeup bag on the table next to it.

Deciding to clean up, I grabbed both items and brought them to the guest room. It was in much more disarray which didn’t help because I was a neat freak. Maybe it had been because of Oasis or just the memories of my childhood, but I despised any clutter. I had just been about to put things away when I heard the front door open.

“Carley,” I called out from her room.

“It’s fine. I forgot something is all. I’ll be right back,” she said.

“Okay,” I called out seconds before the front door closed again.

I shook my head, then picked up her dirty clothes, including a hoodie to which I had a matching one. God, it had to have been high school since I’d worn mine. I set it in the hamper with the rest of the clothing, then added the shoes to the rest of hers, and neatly lined them up at the bottom of the closet. Lastly, I dropped off her makeup bag into the bathroom which was the only thing remotely clean.

I couldn’t stand being in there any longer, and I already dreaded the day she left because I would have my work cut out for me with all the cleaning. I left the bedroom but couldn’t stop thinking about our Carson High School hoodies. I went into my bedroom and located a box of items I’d taken from home yet rarely ever even looked at anymore.

I rummaged around the box, finally locating my gray hoodie that matched hers. Very little had changed with my size since then other than the loss of about ten pounds. I shook out the sweatshirt, then slipped it over my head. Once on, I walked to the full-length mirror.

My reflection stared back at me, only it no longer was the one I was used to seeing. I was now staring at the girl I’d once been. Basically forced to take care of myself most of the time, I’d done whatever I could to earn money. There were several things I was not proud of, and as my hand slid into the pockets in front, I closed my eyes.

At fifteen, I had gotten caught up with some others in the neighborhood, and it wasn’t long before I’d gotten hooked on marijuana. It was an expensive habit for someone who had no money, so I’d agreed to sell it but only ended up getting myself into more trouble as I smoked more than I made.

I shuddered but kept my eyes closed. It was called a gateway drug for a reason. Harder to hide and harder to use, I’d moved on to other things like Xanax and Percocet. I not only supplemented my weed habit with the pills, but I also started to sell them on campus. I’d only stopped when rumors started to persist and I feared getting caught.

My eyes flew open as memories of that time came rushing back. I was about to remove the hoodie but Carley returned and began calling out my name. “Shelbs...”

“I’m in my bedroom,” I told her just as she breached the doorway.

“Damn, I haven’t seen you in one of those since you left Cali. I thought you were above it all.”

“I am... I mean, I was. I just saw yours and it made me think of this old thing. I’m actually surprised it still fits.”

“You look good in it. I mean, it looks a lot more like the real you.”

“The real me?”

“Yes, and not the person you project to be here in Denver. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve built something great for yourself here, but it’s not the real you.”

“If it isn’t, then what is?” I asked her.

She walked over to me, then pulled my hair up into a ponytail. “The real you is this girl right here. You’re the CHS peddler, the one we all went to when we wanted to have a good time. The girls to get high, and the guys to get–”

“Okay, that’s enough,” I told her as I pulled away from her abruptly, yanking my own hair in the process. I practically tore at the hoodie as I took it off, then tossed it onto the chair beside my bed. “That was a different time and a different life. The real me is the person I became in Denver.”

“She’s an imposter and we both know it,” Carley said before sauntering out of the bedroom.

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