Title: The Lemonade
Author: Chloe Fluer
Summary: It's time for Geekella to make some changes in her life. With the help of a book and peer counselor in new school, she takes steps forward to becoming her own woman and reconnects with her distant father. The title is a warning - lemons all the way :)
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight series and all the characters. I am just messing around and having fun.
Two days after Christmas I went online and bought myself a one-way ticket from my warm and sandy Phoenix to rainy and cloudy Seattle.
According to Wikipedia, Port Angeles was the largest city on the Olympic Peninsula with a little over 18, 000 inhabitants. But Port Angeles was not to be my final destination. With one more call to my distant father, Charlie, he would be the one waiting for me at the Port Angeles airport to take me to Forks, town I was born in.
I hadn't been to Forks since I was 11 years old, when I finally put my foot down on how I would spend summer with my dad. After that, Charlie took me to California for two weeks. My inner self thrilled at the prospect of warm, sandy beaches and sunsets. When I thought about college it was always Arizona, California, Texas, or maybe Nevada or New Mexico.
I expected that the talk with Renée would be less difficult, but Charlie once again proved to be more of a mystery for me. Even though I was not able to see his face, I heard the confusion and joy in his voice, which I hadn't in just about, well ever.
Charlie and I hadn't spent father-daughter quality time together in ages. He felt guilty for not being able to spend more time with me, and this gave us a chance to get know each other again before I went off to college. We talked about school and friends, but never about something that really mattered like books and music. Occasionally he asked about boys, but I just couldn't talk to him about that because there just wasn't anything to tell. Honestly, even if there were, I just couldn't talk to Charlie about that...it was just too embarrassing.
Being a chief of police, Charlie knew the worst case scenarios of dating in large cities such as Phoenix. Apparently, one out of three teenagers has experienced violence in a dating relationship, but I could not picture any of the guys from my classes getting violent. Besides, for a long time, I was not attracted to any of them. Book characters were always more intriguing, but let's face it, they were fiction.
Renée was shocked, to say the least, but after years of dealing with the good and the bad, loving her for who she was without change and just acceptance and being loved by her, I knew her well enough to explain that this was going to be a great thing. Charlie always tried to get to know me during summers and I collected enough information from him to know that my mother's departure when I was three months old was, in his eyes, considered a betrayal of family values on Renée's part. Ever since my mother found her match in Phil, I was drawn into rethinking my life. And when it came to Charlie, I sucked big time. I could not write down 12 things about my dad. I did not know what he liked to do, beside his job and fishing. I did not know when he would wake up, what kind of coffe he liked or what his dreams were when he was my age. I didn't even know how he voted in the last or any election.
Many kids in school were part of two households due to divorces, but most of the people I communicated with thought that I did not have a father. I was shocked when I overheard my second grade teacher saying to the school's psychologist how I was withdrawn and shy because I didn't have a father. In my mind, it translated that my father died, when in fact, her comment was appropriate for my situation. My father was not a part of my life, but that was not the reason why I was "withdrawn and shy".
Renée could attest to that. My upbringing was quite liberal, and she told me the story of the birds and bees when I was nine years old. The first time I demonstratively left her alone in crafts room and closed myself in my bedroom at the age of eleven, she forced herself in and told me all about sex. Apparently, when your child demands to be alone all of a sudden, that's when they start thinking about sex.
I guess there was a book with those signals all written out, but the book was wrong. I was not thinking about sex. In fact, I actually started thinking about it when Renée and Phil got less careful with their "private time."
My mom taught me that the sexual connection between a man and a woman was something to be celebrated, and that it could be the most extraordinary experience shared with the right person. Or persons. Being open about your sexuality was always the right path.
All of that, plus several books we read together on this subject, could not prepare me for the amount of sex she and Phil were obviously having. I was aware of that before they were married and apparently, up until December, they had sex in every single room in our small little house.
All the signs were there: blushes, sweats, ripped clothes and messy hair. Phil would sometimes stutter afterward. Of course, he would be embarrassed about his sex life with my mother in front of me. He was after all, only nine years older than me and, by my classmate's remarks, "quite a hottie."
It would be very wrong of me to publicly agree on this last matter.
It was Halloween night that changed everything for me. My mother was married to Phil for over two months at the time, and I was hoping that seeing a real man walking around half naked in a towel would not turn me into a horny teenaged girl. But I was not above my hormones or wet dreams.
I was starting to regret not taking Brian's invitation to Jessica's Masquerade party. That would at least give me some kind of release. Brian was interested in me, getting to know my opinions on books I would have my nose in during lunch time. I, on the other hand, was more interested in jumping him, so I would not get instantly aroused when I would see my stepfather walking out of a shower every evening, and morning.
This wasn't fair. Really. I was happy for my mom. Phil was generally a good guy, very relaxed and hardworking. He wasn't particularly smart or well read, but a baseball player did not need those qualities anyway. So, it wasn't like I was falling for him or having dreams about being with him. I was just desperately turned on by naked male flesh. Live. I heard about that feeling from girls in locker room in school. The feeling of pure lust and wanting, needing to touch and collide bodies while testing your lungs' limits.
The lack of experience with guys my age made this all even more difficult. I did not know how to hide the obvious marks of my attraction and addiction to Phil's presence.
Halloween night was when I was absolutely sure I needed to move away from Renée and Phil or I would do something reckless and stupid.
After helping the neighbor's kids with their costumes and masques, I went home and came in from the backyard to put the past day's dirty clothes in the washer and take a shower in the smaller bathroom so as not to wake up the newlyweds.
So, there I was again, being a good and responsible daughter, good neighbor and overly punctual. From the moment I put my keys down on a small kitchen table, I knew something was off. It was too dark in the house, all the lights were off and I could not hear the commercials from the flat screen in the living room. Instead, there were these … grunts?
As I approached the door that was connecting the kitchen to hallway and the stairs, I could hear it more clearly. Shallow grunts and the stairs shaking? I did not know what I expected to see after pulling the doors, but I did it anyway.
Whatever went through my head seconds before seeing the act that was presented before me in that small tight hallway, went into a dusk of lost memories. There was the hottie of my stepfather, in all his naked glory with only a wizard's hat hanging on his head. His "cloak" was tossed on the wooden stairs and his pants were around his ankles with my mother's legs around his waist. I could not move. I was mesmerized with seeing this thing every person I know talked about. Sex. Naked, upstanding, loud, panting.
Time slowed and my skin started to heat as tiny beads of sweat began to gather on my neck and underneath my blouse. The muscles across Phil's back flexed with every thrust, as his thighs seemed to strain with the effort of remaining upright. With their faces obscured, my mind only registered two moving bodies, tunnel vision preventing me from fully considering what it was I had actually stumbled across.
Panting gave way to violent animalistic grunts and the sounds of slapping skin echoed throughout the tight, small hall. Angry red scratch marks ran down the length of his back, and I let out the breath that I had been holding for very long time. I couldn't help the dampness pooling in my panties as I thought about craving someone so much that I would feel the need to mark them.
His thrusting intensified and a feminine moan filtered through my hazy bubble. I reached out a hand to steady myself against the wall, fearful that my legs might give out from under me. Without warning, what I assumed to be an orgasmic shriek from her was followed by a strained and guttural growl from him, and I was pulled from my voyeurism.
"Christ, Renée. That was intense." Phil's gravelly voice rasping out my mother's name followed by her breathy laughter, hit me like a slap in the face.
For all intents and purposes, I had just watched my mother have sex with her young hot husband.
It took me over five days to be able to look her in eyes. She was embarrassed as well and tried to make a joke out of the situation. Like it was funny that she and Phil have finally baptized every single room in our house, and that now there would be no more wild sexing. Phil stopped taking showers while I was awake or in the house during daylight. To say that he was uncomfortable would be the understatement of the year. Plus he stopped calling me Izzy and driving me to school on Fridays.
I couldn't blame him. My usually milky skin turned to royal scarlet after that night. While my inner world now got fresh, quite vivid material to work with and adjusted all the details in order to satisfy the hungry beast that wanted more, like the sounds of skin to skin contact; the real me was overwhelmed by all the sexual content that took over my imagination. I would write the previous sentence more like this "While I have more vivid fodder for my fantasies, like the actual sounds of skin to skin contact, the real me was overwhelmed by all the sexual content overwhelming my imagination." -Bekah Fleis 1/13/10 4:00 PM
This was exactly why being seventeen was the time to start messing around with boys and exploring the boundaries of what feels good. The weirdest part was that I was no longer thinking about Phil as much as about the act of a man and a woman being so close that they are making these sounds only coyotes could decode. Those low grunts and pants that made my insides burn slightly and sticky wetness slip through my folds to soak my panties.
I needed a change of environment, and I wrote down a plan in order to make it until Christmas in this house. So, I could cook the rest of the plan to let Renée finally live the life on road she wanted to when she bailed out adventure-less sure what this sentence means... -Bekah Fleis 1/13/10 4:29 PM
I talked to Renée after I got off the phone with Charlie, and it was intense to say the least. She tried to get me to change my mind and to talk about the Halloween incident, as I was calling it , but there was no going back. I made my decision in order to save myself embarrassment of ogling my stepfather after showers. That night made me think about all of the things I had to fix in order to save my sanity.
To take Renée's attention off the obvious, I started dating Brian Freedman. Renée was thrilled. Never before had I shown interest in a boy. He was kind, neat, predictable and he was the only son of a well-known college professor. For a girl that was considerate nice and attentive, dating Brian on limited time made me a first class bitch in my own ranks. An after school special would love to have a character like me as a guest star, but at least I could say that it was very clear that I needed to spend more time with my dad, in order to get to know him again.
I started making a list of things I would need to bring to Forks with me. After some research, I soon realized I would be moving away from one of the sunniest places in the world to one of the wettest and coldest places in continental US. That fact made me take Phil and his car shopping for some new warmer clothes. I was going to need sweaters, a nice warm winter coat, gloves, scarfs, cap, dark jeans and boots. Rain boots, which I have not had since I was five years old, preferably a set of those hideous yellow rubber boots. Or maybe orange. Orange would work better with all the green mush in Forks.
I knew Phil and Renée were running low on cash with Phil's uncertain baseball coach future on East side, but after I purchased plane tickets with my own savings, they insisted on getting me what I needed for Forks. Phil brought boxes from Fed-Ex so I could pack CDs, books and school supplies. Charlie enrolled me in Forks High School the same day I called him and my teachers had already begun the process of transferring my records. I would have to change some courses. Mr. Miles was not happy with the fact that Forks High School was not offering AP Biology, the course he was teaching and in which I was doing so well. I wasn't upset by that of course. It wasn't like I was planning on going pre-med. I really enjoyed more creative classes anyways like English, History, etc.
So this move to Forks was temporary, something to put up with for a little while, and then I could go to the sunny colleges I had already chosen. I could do this...it's only temporary.
Just as was my so called relationship with Brian. He realized that something was very wrong from the first few days we started seeing each other after school. He tried to talk to me about what ever was bothering me, but it just made me feel even more like a mean character from Dawson's Creek.
I am ashamed to say that this scam of mine managed to get on my list of firsts. Yes, my very first teenage kiss was with Brian. And to make it even worse, he was such a sweet, attentive kisser. His lips were very gentle, and he caressed my cheek and hair on my shoulders while our lips were in contact. I liked the kiss and I hated myself for that. Telling Brian I was moving to Washington was easy compared from banging my head in my bedroom like Dobby after kissing him back. He wanted to hear from me after I settled in Forks.
On January 15th, the day before my flight to Washington state, my last delivery from Amazon arrived. I got Renée "The South Beach Diet Cookbook" , myself "The Kite Runner" by Khaled Hossein, "The Dante Club" by Matthew Pear and one book I thought would be the adventure to read: "Running With Scissors" by Augusten Burroughs. That last one was probably a little out of my range of taste, but I thought since I was moving away to a place I detested as a child, maybe a new type of literature would be a good thing for me. But that was not everything I packed in the delivery box. There was another book there, a book so girly, that neither Renée or I would take from the bookshelf for fear of embarrassment. It was a hardcover book with hot baby pink cover and a picture of a girl changing a lightbulb. The title was in cursive font. "How to Walk in High Heels" The Girl's Guide to Everything by Camilla Morton, a special gift from Amazon for ordering during Christmas week.
I had a little time to decide what to take with me on plane. I already had my iBook ready, some tissues, mp3 player and decided to take "The Kite Runner", "Running with Scissors" and a hot chick book. "The Dante Club" will have take its chances with Renée. Reading about murders in style of Dante's Inferno would not be a good thing to do in Forks while living with the Chief of police. The girly book would have to do and perhaps give a new perspective on a how to be glamorous, even in the small town of Forks.
A/N - I need to thank many people for encouraging me to go with this story even when I was sure it was lame and useless.
Charmie77 first helped back in August when this was merely a one shot and I was completely lost.
Linsey or phoenixhunter47 - for the huge push to peruse this. I actually pulled her out of a WC and said - "I am of no use. This lemon needs to be written and I just can't do it." she was so cool and just wrote "let me see if I can help". That's how the Renée&Phil scene was written by her and it was all it needed to give me wings.
all the WC people - you are great community, full of advice and encouragement. I wrote 90% of this story in WCs and I wouldn't have done it without you ladies.
finally to FrogQueenLaurel - for being my beta, reading my mind through gtak and gdocs and all the encouragement.
I was told that reviews are bonbons.
Can I have some :D ?