Life's A Cappella Read Online Free PDF Page B

I wanted to do was scream. Addict. Spoken like someone who had no understanding of the true meaning of the term or its implications.
    But I couldn’t be angry at her. It was her good fortune that she was raised by a family, while I couldn’t bear the idea of dreaming about having a family. I knew about as much about the meaning of family as Camilla knew about addiction.
    My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed Camilla staring at me expectantly. “Sorry, zoned out for a bit,” I explained.
    “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us tonight? You can snorkel.”
    “Don’t sharks come out at night?” I asked.
    “Yes!” Camilla exclaimed excitedly. It had been a dream of hers to swim in the open waters with sharks. A bucket list of sorts. If you asked me, that type of bucket list would only have you meeting your Creator sooner rather than later.
    “I’ll pass.”
    “Titty baby,” she shot at me, daring me to challenge her. I didn’t. Instead, I remembered her puzzled look the first time I used the term “titty baby” in front of her. Now she used it whenever she wanted me to do something that was clearly outside my comfort zone.
    “Blood and sharks? No thanks. I like living,” I told her.
    “What if we all went snorkeling before we start spearing?” Trent offered. Jermaine had invited him earlier and he had accepted eagerly. Too eagerly, if you asked me. Seriously, what was it with these people and their eagerness to violently thrust a spear through an unsuspecting fish? And the blood floating around, just begging for sharks to come? Here take a chunk off my leg. It’s not like I need it or anything.
    “We can do that,” Jermaine said. “How ‘bout it, country girl?”
    I thought about it for a second and figured what the hell. If I got bitten by a shark, at least it’d be an interesting story to tell. If there was anyone left to tell the story.
    After a few hours, we all climbed aboard Jermaine’s boat, me with one of my favorite books in tow so I could read once everyone started spear fishing. I watched as Brianna expertly untied us from the dock, hopped into the boat and into Jermaine’s waiting arms. Their show of affection was appropriately accompanied by a wave of awe’s from Camilla and Tonya.
    Trent sat next to me and offered me a sip from his bottle of water. “Country girl, huh?” he asked.
    “Yeah,” I replied, shying away from the nickname. Personally, I preferred redneck or gringa .
    “So, where are you from?”
    “Alabama.”
    “Where in Alabama?”
    “The country side.”
    Trent shook his head. “Talking to you is worse than pulling teeth.”
    “Have you pulled many teeth as a police officer?”
    “I got called in to break up a fight between two neighbors and wound up helping one of the guys look for the teeth he got knocked out of him.”
    “You’re a class act, Trent,” I told him and smiled, hoping the sadness I felt wasn’t obvious. “I grew up in a lot of places and the cops I came across wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”
    Trent gently brushed his hand across my cheek, watching me, maybe waiting for me to fumble away from him again. I held myself still, forcing myself to maintain eye contact with Trent while I felt my heart beat at a radically fast pace, and willed myself to breathe normally. He finally broke contact and I relaxed, but was also slightly disappointed at the sudden disconnect. “Most people laugh at that story,” he told me.
    “Yeah, well,” I shrugged and took his water away from him so I could have another sip before we started snorkeling.
    The whole notion of swimming in the ocean, a foreigner in a world I wasn’t sure I was welcomed, still intimidated me. But I had to admit I was glad I had agreed to go. Not because Trent would take hold of my hand every so often or because our bodies kept touching. No, it was because of the colors and the fish. Just like last time.
    Or maybe not quite like last time. Maybe a bit better