Chapter 2

" What are ya doin home?" Dale was surprised to hear the voice escape the cracked lips of the woman she would have passed for dead. Beverly was sprawled across the small blue sofa that proved to cramp the already small living space of their trailer. Dale insisted that they use the two lazy boy chairs they had found on the side of the road next to the sofa, but Beverly got the sofa anyway. If Beverly wasn’t lying in the bed in the backroom, she was lying on the sofa, half dressed and dazed. Dale decided that her home was more like her mother’s ‘office’ and grew accustomed to hiding out in her closet like bed room. She was just trying to grab a half of sandwich before slipping back into her room, when her mother called out to her. Turning towards her, Dale twisted her face in disgust. Her mother looked like death, smelled even worse, and the sad part of it all was that Beverly was once a beautiful woman. Dale had never seen the likes, for Beverly was far gone by the time Dale was old enough to conceive the construct of her face, but she had seen it in the few photos Beverly always carried. No matter where they ended up, those same pictures- of her younger, prettier days, would end up hung about the house. Choosing to look at one of them than her mother, Dale focused on the picture above the couch- where her mother sat outside on the steps of another trailer, smiling happily, her hair falling thick around her shoulders and her cheeks rosy with life.

" Daddy Bomar went to the lake for three days."

" He’s not ya Daddy!" Beverly spewed, lifting her thin arm, which only fell back down limply across her stomach. Dale wanted to go and throw the blanket over her mother, hide the marks that always seemed to appear after every ‘client’- but new her mother would only lash out at her

" I know." Dale whimpered, and lowered her head in defeat. There was no use in explaining that Daddy Bomar was the only reason she they had a roof over her head, or that he was the one that fed her, talked to her, hell even took her shopping. He was more of a father than she ever had, and if her mother really wanted to know- he was more of a parent.

" Go on git. Looking like a damn penny." Dale backed into her room, closing the door silently. She used to think it was funny when her mother said she looked like a penny, but that was before Dale realized she was only trying to hurt her. Dale couldn’t understand how it was that she loathed people the color of her skin, when she herself was close to it and there was no doubt her father was darker than a penny. Propping her legs up, so that her knees tucked under her chin, Dale rocked herself- hoping that the weekend would end sooner than it began.

Trace couldn’t stop scratching his neck, his arms, or the length of his legs. Justin just sat back and laughed, wondering why it was the boy always insisted on never using any bug spray. Just like always, Trace came back from every weekend outing trip with a plethora of mosquito bites that it turned his skin red.

" It’s not as funny as you hair." Trace managed to spit out, in between failed attempts of concealed frustration. This time Justin and his grandfather shared in the laughter while Trace clucked his tongue at the both of them. They were just returning from their trip, and Justin was fortunate enough to not have had one run in with an intruding bystander. For the most part, him and his family was left alone, with no more than a few flashes of bulbs the entire weekend. He even called to check on his mother a few times and learned that she hadn’t been bothered, nor had his grandmother. Knowing that they were finally respecting his privacy settled Justin and allowed him to fully partake in his much needed vacation home, which was why he didn’t mind spending a few hours at his grandfather’s store helping to mend some repairs. It wasn’t everyday that Justin found himself doing hard labor, which was why the opportunity to strap on a work belt and sweat was more than appealing to him. Trace, who would have rather hung by the pool, begrudgingly obliged with the promise of the next two days events solely left up to him.

" Ah...Dale...always the early bird." Justin’s eyes focused in on the dark haired girl who slowly rose as the car approached the gas shop. Her eyes squinted in recognition as she stared down what must have been the unfamiliar truck. Her face eased once she realized it was his grandfather, and Justin watched as a soft smile spread across her face. Her hair was tied up into a sloppy, curly, ponytail which made her eyes look even more chinked. She was dressed in a plain white tank and cut off jean shorts, her legs were thick and toned like she walked everywhere she went. When her eyes rested on him, Justin briefly recognized her as the girl he saw behind the counter several days before. He remembered her, not because he stared long enough to even acknowledge her, but because he remembered her having the strangest eyes. They were a yellow brown, a color he had never before seen, and doubted he would ever see again. He took them in for only a moment, until her eyes quickly shifted to something else.

" Dale?" Trace repeated, coming to stand behind Justin. The two men watched as Justin’s grandfather went to embrace her. They exchanged a look before the eyes settled back on the scene before them.

" Hey you two..come ‘ere and meet Ms. Dale Lynn." Justin and Trace followed suit, and walked up to them, their eyes still taking her in. Trace was the first to speak, ever the gentleman, as he held out his hand to her.

" This here is Trey, like my grandson...and this fellar..." Justin watched her eyes widen in recognition before quickly returning to normal. He was sure she wasn’t a fan, since she had yet to quiver at the knees or faint from shock. He wasn’t sure what type of music she might listen to, which was odd since he prided himself on being able to predict what a person’s music preference was by just looking at them.

" Justin." He said his name anyway, though it was clear she already knew it. He could tell, though, that her shock was more from him being the grandson than him being the pop star.

" Nice to meet ya’ll." she smiled and turned to follow his grandfather inside, quickly taking her place behind the counter. Justin and Trace made their way to the back of the store, already having been told what their planned tasks were for today. First they were to start with painting the back wall, then move on to piling the chopped wood. As soon as they were out of earshot, Trace began his assessment.

" She’s fucking hot."

" And most likely a minor." Justin reminded, setting up the base paint and pulling his shirt off. It was only 11 a.m., but the sun was beaming hard through the window beside him.

" Your point?" Trace was standing with his hands on his hip, obviously upset that he was interrupted. " As I was saying....she’s fucking like, some indie exotic shit."

" How do you put it so eloquently..." Justin teased propping the ladder up against the dry wall. Trace ignored him and instead turned towards the front of the store to catch a glimpse of her. Justin decided that he shouldn’t rely on Trace for help so began to climb the ladder. He was turning to yell towards trace to hand him the tape when he caught eyes with her. He would have dismissed it, had he not noticed the slight blush that graced her features when she turned her eyes from him. Not particularly phased, since it was a common occurrence- especially with his shirt off- Justin turned back to the task at hand and kicked Trace in the back for not paying attention.

She was finding it increasingly hard not to stare. It wasn’t everyday that she could say she was in the presence of someone famous, but that wasn’t even what had her distracted. It was his damn chest. Even from clear across the room she could see it. Glistening, like a wet washboard, flexing and relaxing with every breath. At first she considered her reaction normal, afterall it was a nice chest. Now she felt borderline insane, with every stolen glance every few moments. She tried to read her book, but then he would sigh in frustration and make the solid muscle heave in response. Then she would assist Ms Harvey or Mrs. Deer with their shopping list, but then he would stretch or twist a certain way that would make every toned point come alive. It was unbearable.

" Excuse me?" she hadn’t realized anyone was talking to her, she hadn’t expected anyone to notice her leaning against the magazine shelf, looking in his direction. Then she saw her, a girl with brown hair and freckles, probably around the same age as her- couldn’t have been no more than sixteen. Dale cleared her throat and devoted her attention to the girl whom she recognized as being one of her classmates in her fourth period english class. Dale remembered that she had rather liked the girl’s original poem that she read before the class last spring semester.

" Dale right?"

" Yea." Unsure of where the conversation was going, Dale gave a skeptical look, her mouth twisted in a frown.

" I’m Marissa. Trey’s sister." Dale’s eyebrows gathered in confusion, until she heard the animated voice behind her yelling in their direction.

" Mari! You better not be driving my car!" They both turned and looked at a fuming Trace, who stood his latter, pointing his paint brush towards his sister. The brown haired, slightly pudgy girl, rolled her eyes and dismissed him altogether.

" Anyway..." she sighed, throwing up a dismissive hand. Dale bit back her smile, and waited for the girl to continue. " I really liked your..."

" Dammit Mari...is that my car?!" Trace flared, interrupting once again.

" Yup, I think that’s yours." Justin agreed, looking out the window from the latter he stood on. Dale couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips as she watched Trace turn several shades darker.

" Shut up..noones gonna wreck your precious baby!"

" Your right cuz no ones gonna drive her..and her name is precious ONE!" Trace exclaimed stalking down the isle towards them, looking every bit of ridiculous in is paint stained clothing.

" Whatever." Marissa sighed tossing the keys to him and focusing her attention back on Dale. Waiting for whatever explanation there was coming for her sudden interest in her, Dale switched her weight onto her right foot and stared blankly. " As I was saying...you were in my english lit class this past semester, and I liked your stuff. I noticed you don’t hang much, so I came to see if you’d want to go with us to the bonfire later this week?" Dale’s mouth had dropped open since the beginning of the conversation, having been completely taken aback that the girl had even remotely remembered any of the poems she had written. It had been six months of barely no one acknowledging her, that was worth talking to and not twice her age, and now she was being asked to go to a bonfire. Dale knew all about the bonfire, the place where all the popular kids go to hang out and socialize until the wee hours of the night. It was always the Monday after that she would happen by secret conversations that would leave her gaping at the mouth but secretly wishing she would somehow be apart of it. Now she was receiving an exclusive invite.

" Uh...sure." Dale was unsure of whether or not the girls intentions were honorable, but would rather risk the unknown for the chance to finally get to know someone.

" Great." Marissa’s smiled widened but quickly dropped when she heard the bell ring announcing her brother’s return. Dale excused herself as the two siblings headed off together outside and idly made her way to the front of the store. She took her seat behind the counter and wondered if this time she would be able to keep her focus on her novel. All the excitement of the day proved to be a greater distraction than expected and she finally just settled on staring out the window at nothing in particular. Her eyes settled on a perturbed Trace who stood off to the side watching his "precious one" swerve out the parking lot. Laughing to herself, Dale hoped she’d have a chance to one day cruise alongside Marissa in the sports convertible she usually only saw from a distance.

His hip hadn’t stopped vibrating since he first ignored her call, but after an hour of consistent calling he finally decided to silence the cellular monster. Climbing down from the ladder, Justin stretched his arms upward, a silently cursed Britney for the slight damper he was sure she’d put on his day once he decided to listen to at least one of the string of angry messages she left. He just didn’t feel like being bothered, and that meant by everyone. It wasn’t just her that he ignored, but his publicist, his manager, his band mates and even his L.A. partner in crime Calvin. He didn’t want them intruding upon his world of solace with whatever they decided to call him about. All reference to him as a celebrity could stay outside of Shelby Forest until he decided to deal with it.

" This is fucking ridiculous." Trace sighed from his position against the wall where he had been standing for the most part. Justin chuckled inwardly, his shoulders bouncing slightly with laughter, as he walked past his friend and towards the front of the store. He noticed that a lot more people had suddenly frequented his grandfather’s shop since he had gotten to town, and wasn’t surprised to find more than a few teenagers filling the dining area sipping idly on cans of soda. He briefly noticed that Dale was being held up by Sam, the town drunk, at the counter and could tell from the look on her face that she was wary of his company. Justin could just guess that Sam was probably slewing off obscenities at the mouth and would even venture in saying the man was probably hitting on Dale, all of which appeared to be making her uncomfortable. He had intended to stop by a table of ogling girls that seemed to be getting there share from his shirtless attire, but decided that he’d better interfere on Dale’s behalf.

" Hey Sam, you finding everything okay?" his tone wasn’t light, and the way his hand rested on the burly man’s shoulder only added to his no nonsense tone. It took a minute for Sam to respond, but when he did he grimaced slightly and nodded his efforts.

"Oh ‘ey der Justin. I was just making polite wit dis here wench." Justin swallowed hard before he produced a tight smile. He didn’t appreciate Sam’s words any more than it appeared Dale did, bur he knew it was better for him to handle the man with a controlled, leveled attitude. No need in giving the papers anything else to write about.

" How about you leave her to her business." It wasn’t a suggestion and Sam wasn’t too far gone to take the hint. He squinted his eyes towards the taller man beside him and almost left his mind to the wonder that little Justin Randall had become. He remembered when the boy was just a toddler, now he was sure the boy could light fire under his ass if the need called for it. Sizing him up, Sam concluded that he’d rather just enjoy another beer then end up nursing a black eye.

" I guess dis one is yers." Justin didn’t even dignify the man with an answer, just pushed him to the door and waited until he was gone to turn back to Dale. She lowered her eyes from him, and chewed hesitantly on her bottom lip.

" Thanks. He’s usually an ass like that." she smiled, like it was a relief to finally be rid of the nuisance, and Justin realized he rather liked her smile. It was warm, refreshing, and so full of honest emotion that Justin would dare say he hadn’t seen one like it in years.

" Yeah...he’s been that way since I was a kid."

" You’ve lived here that long?" her eyes showed her surprise, and Justin laughed easily. He was a big city star now, but he’d never forget his roots. Hopefully Hollywood hasn’t striped him of his southern gentleman.

" Am I that much of a city slicker?!" he was teasing, and found that he was relieved she responded with a smile of her own. He didn’t like frigid shy people who refused to come out of their shell, at least be able to hold your own end of the conversation. Although she wasn’t the most talkative that he has ever met, he could tell she would be a natural conversationalist.

" Depends on what day of the week it is. The other day...yea. Today..." she let her eyes run the length of him and Justin smiled knowingly. " Today, you look a little like south."

" Is it the hair?" he laughed and was glad to hear her follow suit. She shook her head and fingered a curl that escaped the confinements of his hat- an action that momentarily surprised the both of them.

" Nah, that’s just ridiculous, I’d say it had something to do with the attire." She began laughing as he feigned innocents, placing his hands on his bare chest and looking down.

" You wouldn’t mean my bare chest."

" If you wanna call it that." she smirked and the toothy grin she gave lightened the blow. Justin nodded, appreciating her light hearted banter, and moved to make his way back towards the small dining area where he could already see his grandfather and friends.

" Maybe that’s why you’ve been staring all morning." he quipped before disappearing through the doorway.