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Chapter Twenty-Eight:
One week later
We hadn’t heard a peep from Brody since the night Megan crashed our party by whisking her away. I’m sure Olivia knew something, but I had enough sense not to press for information. I just wish it didn’t bother Liza the way it was. Of course, she denied ever having feelings for Brody to my face, but I’ve been there and knew how much it sucked being in her position. I still wasn’t sure what happened myself. I knew I wasn't imagining the unmistakable connection they'd made. This weird part of me hoped she’d show one of these nights and apologize to Liza for taking off like she did, but it was a silly fantasy. She didn’t owe anyone anything.
My Visa came in the mail, approved. I felt like shit keeping the news from Vasha, and everyone else for that matter, but it just didn’t feel the same as when I applied for it several months ago. My correspondence with Vasha was occurring less and l
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If I were in the right frame of mind, I might've asked Brody what she was doing at a mostly abandoned Skate park this time of night. Then again, I was here too so I couldn't really talk. I glanced up at her with a half smile as she continued to peer at me with a gentle interest. “No, this seats taken.” I joked, but pat the place next to me in case she didn’t get it. A sarcastic laugh cut through the air.“You’re a riot. I didn’t know you board, should’ve figured though.” Brody’s hazel eyes were illuminated in the darkness as she openly checked me out. I guess that made enough sense. My style was all over the place, but I never strayed too far from a punk stuck in the early 2000’s. Pre 2010 Avril Lavigne would be so proud. “Long time ago.” I sighed, throwing my head back to take another swig. She set her skateboard between us and I traced my fingers along the grainy surface nostalgically. “Ho
Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty:
Two days later“You’re looking better and better everyday, France.” Brody’s teasing voice pulled me from my favorite book, “Keeping You A Secret” by Julie Ann Peters. One jean clad leg crossed over the other, she leaned against the door with a large pizza in hand. Her dark burgundy sweater hung off her slightly muscular frame alluringly, and I discreetly bit my lip. Megan really was lucky, and I wondered if she knew that. Taking in the spicy pepperoni smell, I waved her in.“Oh it’s nothing, really.” I replied dryly, earning me one of Brody’s bright smiles. She set the pizza on a rolling chair in the middle of the room and slid into the only other available one just like it. Producing two paper plates, she started divvying out a slice for each of us and handed me my portion. I’d been stuck here for the last couple of days, goin
Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-One:
Nobody asked any questions once I was finally able to return to work, and I'm pretty sure it's because they figured there wasn't any point. I was on my way out anyway, so why shit all over the extra help while it was still here?As my shifts came and went without a hitch, I started getting a move on with my final duties. One thing was for sure, I definitely underestimated how hard it was going to be having to say goodbye to all my regulars. “Are you moving salons?” One of my favorite pet parents, Amee Richardson, held her adoring arms out as I placed an overly excited Maya into them. For only being a seven month old Maltese puppy, she always behaved amazingly well for her baths and nail grinds. With Amee’s permission, I’d also attached a different handmade bow onto her pink studded collar at the end of each appointment.Smiling sympathetically at them, I crossed Maya’s name off my list and handed Amee her invoice. “I&
Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-Two:
By the time my plane finally landed at Roshchino International Airport in the Tyumen Oblast region of Siberia, I was completely disoriented from the time difference. I’d already changed the appropriate settings in my phone, and it reflected 3 P.M in the afternoon. Meanwhile, my internal clock reminded me I should be getting ready for bed instead of moving around awake. Too nervous to sleep much, I think I got a total of four hours throughout the entire trip. Which isn’t great, considering I’ve been on three different planes in the last twenty six hours. Leaning my head against the window, I stared in amazement at the vast blanket of snow covering everything in sight. It’s a good thing I remembered to change during my last layover, because the thin jeans and flimsy hoodie I left Arizona in wouldn’t cut it in this weather. I’d be a frozen popsicle before Andrei had a chance to greet me. As the plane came to a complete stop, a tall blond-haired atten
Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-Three:
I can’t stand the smell of hospitals. It’s like a chemical mixture of sickness, death, and uncertainty. Prince’s “Raspberry Beret” was playing over the intercom as I strode down the lengthy, all white hall. The surface shook beneath my feet, and I felt the vibrations get stronger with every step forward.The fuck? Where am I...did I ever leave Arizona?Dressed in only my off black Calvin Klein bra and underwear set, I looked around self consciously in case anyone suddenly jumped out at me.“Francine!” I heard a ghostly growl beckon me from behind a steel door, and the music abruptly cut out. My legs shuffled forward as if possessed, and I couldn’t speak. My mouth seemed like it was...forced shut. With trembling fingers, I touched my lips and my heart sank in horror as I felt the tight stitches keeping them closed.Wake up! My brain cried in alarm. Wake up, wake-&ld
Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-Four:
“What’s this say, detka?” Vasha had my passport laid out on the perfectly made up bed we’d been staying in for almost fifteen hours straight, and pointed at my middle name. Andrei woke us up ten minutes ago with the promise of porridge and sliced rye bread, which I was excited to try. Figuring we’d be leaving soon, I was hoping to have all my things ready to go, but Vasha had gotten to them first and was curiously pulling my identification out to study it closely.“Alice. My middle name is Alice, little bat.” Most people I met were indifferent to their middle names or just simply didn’t have one, but I loved mine. I smiled at her, watching as she ran her fingers over the glossy photo gingerly.“Beautiful.” She mummered, tossing the document back into my carry on bag and started getting dressed for the day. Choosing a pair of distressed blue jeans and her Siberian tiger sweater, she finger brushed her short bla
Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-Five:
I typed out a few sentences, then deleted them right away. Nothing was coming out exactly the way I wanted it to. If Vasha wasn’t dead to the world, I would have left the situation for her to deal with. I wish she would have told this lunatic to hop on someone else’s dick a long time ago. Some people don’t deserve second chances.God this is so fucked.“Not my circus, not my monkeys...” I mumbled the infamous Polish saying under my breath. Just as I was talking myself out of messing with any of it until my girlfriend was awake enough to read the texts, Olya fired over another one.SMS: I know you’re reading my correspondence. Where are you? I’ll come to where you’re at right now.Fuck no you won’t. The wrath building up inside of me overflowed to the tips of my fingers as I furiously typed back.SMS: I’m not Vasilisa. Leave my
Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-Six:
I’ve always known Vasha to be docile and quiet. She’s soft spoken, and thinks long and hard before she says anything...the only exception being when she’s drunk. That’s why I thought it was strange that she seemed on edge tonight, and I didn’t know what to make of it. With her phone still untouched on the coffee table, I mentally began ruling out any possibilities of her hearing from Olya in the half hour we’d been getting everything ready to bake. Coming up empty, I built up the courage to strike up a conversation.“Detka, do you want to talk about anything?” I was sitting on a barstool facing Andrei’s spacious kitchen island, watching Vasha roughly pound and roll a generous pile of raw gingerbread cookie dough. I’d given up on helping when it became clear I was just getting in the way. The kitchen is no place for me to begin with. I’m a lot more comfortable as a spectator.“Fine. Why do you ask?&
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- Our Young Funny Voices A Word From The Author:
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- Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-Nine:
- Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-Eight:
- Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-Seven:
- Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-Six:
- Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-Five:
- Our Young Funny Voices Chapter Thirty-Four:
