Chapter 3 | Trouble
While trying to call my father, the show TMZ was talking about me. I couldn’t believe how Kathy’s plan spread like word got out for free iPods. I had to give her props on what she did. She was a pro at setting up and selling counterfeit stories.
The doorbell rung and Paul hurried to answer the door—Jason had come early. I gave up on calling my father and spied down at Jason from the staircase. He was very casual compared to me. He was wearing a blue band tee, black jeans, and an old pair of converse tennis shoes. And his tattoos on his arm caught me off guard.
Jason was unlike anyone I ever dated. All the men I have dated were cocky and always wore suits. However, Jason was kind of a rebel—someone Leslie would date in a heartbeat. I rushed to my closet to find something better to wear. Before I could close my door, Paul came in.
“Jeans…he has tattoos?” Paul whined. “I’m glad your mom isn’t here!”
“Well…you put me up to this,” I said. “Blame yourself.” I glanced at my closet—nothing but colorful dresses and no jeans. Kathy hated jeans. She said they were a crime to fashion and only Paul could wear them because he had ugly legs. I put on a purple strapless sundress and a denim vest. I ran down the stairs, nearly falling from nervousness.
“Hey, Jason!” I sounded like a kid who just went into a candy store.
“Hey, Lily!” he shouted and opened his arms waiting for a hug. When I hugged him, he was so warm. I usually disliked new people, but Jason was different. He felt right…
“This is a nice house you have,” he said as he stared around my home.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” I smiled. “Well, let’s go!”
“I’m surprised you don’t have a huge bag with your entire makeup collection and ten phones like Ana does,” he said as he opened the front door.
“Well, I’m not Ana, plus I tend to misplace purses,” I laughed to ease the tension.
“Of course you’re not,” he winked as he opened the car door for me.
I took a deep breath as Jason walked over to the driver’s seat. I had no reason as to why I was so nervous but I had an awful feeling in my gut, telling me to turn around and stay at home.
“Are you ready?” he asked as he started the engine.
I paused and thought if I should pretend to be sick and go back inside. “Um, yeah?”
“Alright.”
The ride to our date was intense because he was too quiet—something was wrong. He laughed to himself a few times but that was it. He was a drifter too.
“Do you like your life?” he said out of nowhere as he turned the corner. “Do you?” he asked again as he pulled into the parking lot at a posh restaurant on the beach.
“Um…” I was shocked of how extreme the question was. I didn’t want to answer his question—not because I didn’t want to but because I didn’t know the answer. “Well—”
“Oh,” he said exasperated as he threw his seat-belt off and jumped out the car. Like a gentlemen, he walked over to my side to open my door. I couldn’t move because I was still in shock of why he asked me that question.
“Do…do you? Like your life?” I did not realize I was beginning to hyperventilate again.
“Of course,” he answered as if it was so casual and simple.
There was something about Jason that I couldn’t put my finger on; which was something I would hate about him. He frightened me in a way that I didn’t know existed—but yet I still sat there with him.
“Do you love your mother?” his eyes narrowed as if I would tell a lie.
“Um…eh…” Yet again, I couldn’t answer him. Was he going to snap this time? I began to breathe heavy at the thought.
“Are you okay?” he asked as his hazel eyes turned curious, waiting for my response. “It’s okay; you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“But I do love her,” I finally spoke.
“Oh,” he said irritated. “Really?”
“Yes!” I snapped.
“Oh okay,” he turned to his plate and continued eating. “Do you like the attention you’re getting today on the news?”
“Excuse me?” I said. “What attention?” I knew what he was talking about but I didn’t want to talk about that. I nervously dug into my bra where I used to store my anxiety medication. I forgot I gave them up and began to shake. “Um, um, what were we talking about?”
“All the headlines—never mind,” he changed his thought and continued eating. He probably noticed how I began to shake a little.
“Don’t...believe everything you see.”
“I don’t know how Paul deals with you,” he said.
“He loves me that much.”
“I’m an assistant so I know how he feels. I never want to be one forever though.”
“Of course he doesn’t. He wants to be a famous photographer. That’s never going to happen,” I laughed.
“But, his work in dedication to Andy Warhol was amazing!”
“Ha, it’s called editing,” I laughed, “wait, how do you—”
“Do you like the sushi?” Jason stuffed a California roll in my mouth.
I laughed, nearly choking on the sauce. “Yeah, it’s amazing!”
Later during the date, it wasn’t as intense as it had started. We walked along the beach and laughed about everything anyone could laugh about. His sense of humor was a bit off, but who was I to judge. I wasn’t a funny person at all.
Jason grabbed my hand and pulled me close to him. “You’re not so bad, eh?”
“No, I’m pretty cool, I just—”
“No, I mean you don’t get into trouble a lot. You’re like America’s sweetheart…unlike Ana,” he said once again, comparing me to her.
Again, with Ana. I did not let my resentment show that I was disappointed over him comparing me to her.
“I never see you on the news arrested for your fifth DUI.”
“Nope…well that’s what you see,” I mumbled and looked down at my toes in the sand.
“So, you do get into trouble?”
I just stayed silent ignoring his question.
“Okay, you know what, sorry…I ask a little too much on a first date, huh? At this rate I won’t be getting a second, I assume.”
I looked up at him and he gave me an uncomplicated smile. “No it’s okay. I just come with baggage.”
His eyes turned large with curiosity again. “I like baggage!” he said. “Like what?”
“Well, Kathy for one,” I said not realizing I called my mom Kathy aloud to him.
“Kathy is…”
“Well, yeah my mom.”
“Well, that’s no problem. Come on, I deal with Ana. Your mom couldn’t be half as bad.”
“Well…um, I think she has Ana beat. Enough about me, what about you?”
“What about me, I’m an assistant, and probably will be forever!”
“Really? So, do you have siblings?”
“Do you?” he said, ignoring my question.
“Well, I asked you first.”
“Well, look at the time, Lily. I should get you back home.”
“But you didn’t answer me.”
“Everyone likes a little mystery,” he winked as he pulled me to his car.
The date was bizarre and I couldn’t help but wonder if I made it bizarre. Without my permission, Paul had given Jason my number already and we planned another date for the next week. Besides all the excessive questions he asked me, he was a nice breath of fresh air. However, it was just that one thing—that one thing about him I still couldn’t figure out. A part of me didn’t want to find out and I kept thinking about it the whole ride home.
When I got back to the house, I could hear Kathy talking on the phone to her private investigator, Mike Durling. Those night calls usually lasted about three hours—which was a relief because I wouldn’t have to deal with her.
I ran into my kitchen pantry where I stored all my XANAX pills for the month. However, when I lo
oked in there, they were gone and replaced with the new pills that Dr. Summings had prescribed. “What the—”
“Hey!” Paul came running downstairs before I could gather my thoughts. “How was it?”
“Good,” I said.
“Well?”
“Well…”
“I assume it went well?”
“Paul, where are my pills for this month?” I snapped.
“I threw them out—”
“WHAT THE FUCK? Why would you do that?” I unexpectedly cried.
“Wow, um, I thought you said you quit them so that's why I threw them out and Kathy put those there for you.”
“You set me up. I really need some because I'm about to lose my mind in 2 seconds!”
Paul came over to me and hugged me. “This is called withdrawal. It's the first step in becoming a better you. Those pills were holding you back! You are so much more stronger than the devil in that orange bottle!”
“You're right, Paul.” I wiped my tears as he hugged me.
“I made some pasta on the stove. See you tomorrow!”
“Okay, bye Paul. Oh yeah, do you mind buying me some fiber medication tomorrow. I'm a little backed up and that sushi didn't help much.”
“Only if you tell me about your date!”
“It was...interesting.”
Paul rolled his eyes and walked out the house. He knew from many years of being with me, that the conversation was going nowhere. I did not talk much about dates like that with him, or anyone if that. That’s just the kind of girl I was.
I ran to my room, opened my journal, and began to write about my date. I caught myself already planning for next week’s date as I ate my pasta. I ended up dosing off but not completely falling asleep. I felt restless but drowsy. It frustrated me that I couldn’t fall asleep quickly like I normally would so I tried writing some more—but the words on the paper were making me dizzy and looked as if they were sliding off the paper. I got up about three times to get water from the kitchen because my mouth was dry. Then, I found myself sitting in front of my window trying to fall asleep because I was so hot on a rare cold night. When I walked back to my bed, I nearly collapsed; it felt like my room was spinning violently. I rested on my bed for an hour then realized I must have had food poisoning from the sushi on the date.