Amnesty - Kim Lenor (beach read book TXT) 📗
- Author: Kim Lenor
Book online «Amnesty - Kim Lenor (beach read book TXT) 📗». Author Kim Lenor
my house.”
“Sahona…. Can I call you Honny?”
“Sure, that’s different. I kinda like it. I’ve never had a nickname before.”
“Well Honny, it looks like your nose healed nicely,” he said as he kissed it tenderly.
“Thanks… Ian, Wow…,” I said slightly bewildered.
“Do you think that maybe we can get together outside of school?” He asked cautiously.
“You mean... like a date?”
“Yeah, a date...”
“Sure…”
“Okay, well I’ll call you tonight and we can figure out when and where,” he said as he began to walk off the porch.
“You don’t have my number!” I yelled.
“I guess that means you have to give it me,” he said proudly while turning to face me as if his scheme had worked.
“Smooth… Smooth… I walked right into that one!” I said laughing.
After we exchanged numbers something so natural came over us and we shared a simple kiss and from that day on Ian and I were inseparable.
We were the perfect couple, I was the cute cheerleader and Ian was the cute basketball player. It just seemed right that we were together. Even though we were a little caught up in the hype of becoming the new most popular couple, we really grew to love one another.
Ian was my first everything, my first slow dance, my first kiss, I gave him my virginity and most certainly he was my first love. He made me feel like romance and friendship based on true love was real and possible. He truly brought out the best in me and in turn I could easily give him my best in return. We were young but I knew he would be apart of my life forever. He taught me about love and I couldn’t imagine sharing that feeling with anyone else. He was everything that I had never been exposed to, the things that romance novels are made of and love songs, and those perfect ending movies where the couple runs off into the sunset and live happily ever after. Those possibilities looked real now and not just someone’s imagination on paper or in a movie. I was truly on cloud nine every moment I was with him.
At times it crossed my mind that our relationship was just too good to be true. We never argued, instead we always compromised quickly as if being upset with each other was the worse thing in the world. He was always the perfect gentleman and considerate of my feelings and needs. If I was having a bad day he went far and beyond just to make me smile. There was one day I recall when I had terrible PMS, I was moody and just miserable. Right before lunch I found a decorated brown paper bag inside of my locker, it had a childishly drawn happy face, hearts, trees, grass and the ocean on it. Inside it was one tampon, a panty liner, a snickers bar, some Motrin, a cheeseburger and fries and a note that said, “I love you, feel better please.” Not only did I crack up laughing because he pretty much had it right, but it was the sweetest and most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me, especially a guy. I asked him later how he came up with those things to put inside the bag and he said he researched it on the Internet. I often wanted to return the favor but Ian never seemed to have bad days but if there was anything else he wanted or needed, I gladly provided.
Chapter 2
After Ian and I had dated for two years, I began to think about introducing him to my parents if I could get them to focus for maybe only just ten minutes. My parents were very successful and wealthy, however whether they thought so or not we had our issues. I can recall feeling sick to my stomach to find a picture of me as a newborn with one of my nannies breast feeding me. I confronted my mother about it and she laughed and said I had no idea how hard it was to find a nanny that could do that and how it was better than Similac. I was resentful of that statement but my resentment for Mother and Father, as I was instructed to call them, started long before I found that picture.
Having a real conversation with my mother or father was rare. As a First Officer of a major airline, my mother was always away traveling and my father “the surgeon” was always at the hospital or sleep between glasses of bourbon. I used to think, If only his patients knew an alcoholic was slicing them open. Actually, they were probably safer with him drunk because he was never sober and I truly believed he didn’t know how to be.
My parent’s marriage was like a wonderful and successful business arrangement. I can’t prove it but I would swear by my life that they must have made a pact that if neither of them fell in love by a certain age that they would just marry one another and live “the American dream.” They often traded hi-fives for accomplishments instead of hugs and kisses. They scheduled time together like a business meeting. Fortunately though, my parents really liked each other as friends and/or as people. If my father was sad or depressed after losing a patient, my mother would buy him a new bottle of bourbon and a new porno. I knew this because I would hear my mother giving him the DVD and introducing the title like it was a bestselling book. Her very next words would be, “I got you a new bottle of bourbon, let me refresh your glass.” She knew full well that he was an alcoholic, though he would be appreciative and the “great arrangement” would fall right back into place.
This worked for them but I felt our house was ridged, cold, lonely and never felt like a home. I felt like the walls surrounded and engaged me like a cold dungeon. Our house was elaborate and beautiful but I still felt so alone and isolated, I could call out and no one would hear me, so that’s what it was to me, my own personal dungeon. I swore to myself that if I ever got married that my home would be the exact opposite, full of sincere love, concern and attention for one another.
Besides being a part of the bigger picture of the American dream, they never really paid much attention to me. My parents loved me dearly and I would occasionally get a sincere hug or kiss from them but neither one of them really had a clue how to truly express their love for me. We all had our roles and I wasn’t supposed to do anything but play mine and play it well, and for all of my life I tried to play it as perfectly as I could.
Mother and Father promised me that for graduation they would buy me a new car, and I was so excited about it because I wanted to get it and just drive off to college and start a new life of my own. Most teens at my school were already driving the newest luxury cars which they got for their sweet sixteen birthdays. But my parents felt that because I wanted it so bad that if they waited and held it as a ransom almost, this was their guarantee that I wouldn’t let anything come between me graduating. I had my own plans without them needing to hold bait over my head and graduating was definitely one of them.
Ian and I were applying to all the same colleges and we were hoping that one would accept both of us because our plan was to get out of there together and not look back. If Mother and Father had ever actually really talked to me they would have known of my convictions and the plans that I had for my future. However, they didn’t know anything about me and they especially had no idea about Ian.
After contemplating a little longer, I had finally settled on the thought that since Ian and I were both seniors and very serious about one another, that I should in fact go ahead and tell my parents about us. He had been right under their noses for the entire two years anyway and I had actually lost my virginity to him in my own bed while they were home. He had spent the night at our house for days at a time and even had clothes all over my room and still they had no idea. So now it was just time to place him directly in front of their faces, so I scheduled a dinner with them for the first time, I wrote my name and a time in an open date slot on the scheduling calendar that loosely hung from the refrigerator for that ridiculous purpose.
Days later, I sat politely while watching my parents arrive at the dinner table while apologizing for being late as they sat in their normal chairs as if they were assigned seats. It was always the same scene whenever we would have dinner together, Mother at one end of the table and Father at the far opposite end with work related stories flying back and forth across the table with the most annoying business like laughter filling the air at the punch lines. After some time they would turn their attention to me, with subtle looks of disappointment on their faces realizing that I wasn’t participating. Usually I would say nothing at all while offering only a fake pretentious smile as I put my hands in the air to let them know that I had nothing to share and for them to continue among themselves. However, this time, I did have something to say, “Mother…, Father, there is someone here that I want you to meet.”
“Sahona, you never bring friends home to meet us, what a nice surprise. Well, where is she?” Mother said intrigued.
“He,” I emphasized, “is in the other room.”
“He…?” Father repeated.
I excused myself from the table and came back into the dining room hand in hand with Ian and motioned for him to take the seat next to me.
“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Story. It’s nice to finally meet you. My name is Ian.”
Father gulped down his drink as if the situation was sobering him too quickly.
“Hello Ian, Sahona hasn’t mentioned you before. Are you from around here son?” Father asked.
“Yes, I live two streets over, the Valley Springs Estates.”
“Hmmm… very nice. So that means you go to school with Sahona… What do your parents do for a living?” Mother inquired.
“Mr. and Mrs. Rumsart are too up in age to work and besides that there are eight other children living there so I guess that is their job.”
“I know much about the Rumsarts. They’ve opened their home to strays.”
“Mother!” I yelled angrily.
“Excuse me, maybe that isn’t the correct terminology, children without parents, foster kids, yeah that’s it… So you’re obviously one of their foster children?”
“Yes, I am.”
Father interrupted once he had just enough bourbon to get that buzz back that allowed him to function properly.
“So what’s the nature of your relationship with our daughter?”
“Honny and I have been dating for two years now and...”
“Sahona…. Can I call you Honny?”
“Sure, that’s different. I kinda like it. I’ve never had a nickname before.”
“Well Honny, it looks like your nose healed nicely,” he said as he kissed it tenderly.
“Thanks… Ian, Wow…,” I said slightly bewildered.
“Do you think that maybe we can get together outside of school?” He asked cautiously.
“You mean... like a date?”
“Yeah, a date...”
“Sure…”
“Okay, well I’ll call you tonight and we can figure out when and where,” he said as he began to walk off the porch.
“You don’t have my number!” I yelled.
“I guess that means you have to give it me,” he said proudly while turning to face me as if his scheme had worked.
“Smooth… Smooth… I walked right into that one!” I said laughing.
After we exchanged numbers something so natural came over us and we shared a simple kiss and from that day on Ian and I were inseparable.
We were the perfect couple, I was the cute cheerleader and Ian was the cute basketball player. It just seemed right that we were together. Even though we were a little caught up in the hype of becoming the new most popular couple, we really grew to love one another.
Ian was my first everything, my first slow dance, my first kiss, I gave him my virginity and most certainly he was my first love. He made me feel like romance and friendship based on true love was real and possible. He truly brought out the best in me and in turn I could easily give him my best in return. We were young but I knew he would be apart of my life forever. He taught me about love and I couldn’t imagine sharing that feeling with anyone else. He was everything that I had never been exposed to, the things that romance novels are made of and love songs, and those perfect ending movies where the couple runs off into the sunset and live happily ever after. Those possibilities looked real now and not just someone’s imagination on paper or in a movie. I was truly on cloud nine every moment I was with him.
At times it crossed my mind that our relationship was just too good to be true. We never argued, instead we always compromised quickly as if being upset with each other was the worse thing in the world. He was always the perfect gentleman and considerate of my feelings and needs. If I was having a bad day he went far and beyond just to make me smile. There was one day I recall when I had terrible PMS, I was moody and just miserable. Right before lunch I found a decorated brown paper bag inside of my locker, it had a childishly drawn happy face, hearts, trees, grass and the ocean on it. Inside it was one tampon, a panty liner, a snickers bar, some Motrin, a cheeseburger and fries and a note that said, “I love you, feel better please.” Not only did I crack up laughing because he pretty much had it right, but it was the sweetest and most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me, especially a guy. I asked him later how he came up with those things to put inside the bag and he said he researched it on the Internet. I often wanted to return the favor but Ian never seemed to have bad days but if there was anything else he wanted or needed, I gladly provided.
Chapter 2
After Ian and I had dated for two years, I began to think about introducing him to my parents if I could get them to focus for maybe only just ten minutes. My parents were very successful and wealthy, however whether they thought so or not we had our issues. I can recall feeling sick to my stomach to find a picture of me as a newborn with one of my nannies breast feeding me. I confronted my mother about it and she laughed and said I had no idea how hard it was to find a nanny that could do that and how it was better than Similac. I was resentful of that statement but my resentment for Mother and Father, as I was instructed to call them, started long before I found that picture.
Having a real conversation with my mother or father was rare. As a First Officer of a major airline, my mother was always away traveling and my father “the surgeon” was always at the hospital or sleep between glasses of bourbon. I used to think, If only his patients knew an alcoholic was slicing them open. Actually, they were probably safer with him drunk because he was never sober and I truly believed he didn’t know how to be.
My parent’s marriage was like a wonderful and successful business arrangement. I can’t prove it but I would swear by my life that they must have made a pact that if neither of them fell in love by a certain age that they would just marry one another and live “the American dream.” They often traded hi-fives for accomplishments instead of hugs and kisses. They scheduled time together like a business meeting. Fortunately though, my parents really liked each other as friends and/or as people. If my father was sad or depressed after losing a patient, my mother would buy him a new bottle of bourbon and a new porno. I knew this because I would hear my mother giving him the DVD and introducing the title like it was a bestselling book. Her very next words would be, “I got you a new bottle of bourbon, let me refresh your glass.” She knew full well that he was an alcoholic, though he would be appreciative and the “great arrangement” would fall right back into place.
This worked for them but I felt our house was ridged, cold, lonely and never felt like a home. I felt like the walls surrounded and engaged me like a cold dungeon. Our house was elaborate and beautiful but I still felt so alone and isolated, I could call out and no one would hear me, so that’s what it was to me, my own personal dungeon. I swore to myself that if I ever got married that my home would be the exact opposite, full of sincere love, concern and attention for one another.
Besides being a part of the bigger picture of the American dream, they never really paid much attention to me. My parents loved me dearly and I would occasionally get a sincere hug or kiss from them but neither one of them really had a clue how to truly express their love for me. We all had our roles and I wasn’t supposed to do anything but play mine and play it well, and for all of my life I tried to play it as perfectly as I could.
Mother and Father promised me that for graduation they would buy me a new car, and I was so excited about it because I wanted to get it and just drive off to college and start a new life of my own. Most teens at my school were already driving the newest luxury cars which they got for their sweet sixteen birthdays. But my parents felt that because I wanted it so bad that if they waited and held it as a ransom almost, this was their guarantee that I wouldn’t let anything come between me graduating. I had my own plans without them needing to hold bait over my head and graduating was definitely one of them.
Ian and I were applying to all the same colleges and we were hoping that one would accept both of us because our plan was to get out of there together and not look back. If Mother and Father had ever actually really talked to me they would have known of my convictions and the plans that I had for my future. However, they didn’t know anything about me and they especially had no idea about Ian.
After contemplating a little longer, I had finally settled on the thought that since Ian and I were both seniors and very serious about one another, that I should in fact go ahead and tell my parents about us. He had been right under their noses for the entire two years anyway and I had actually lost my virginity to him in my own bed while they were home. He had spent the night at our house for days at a time and even had clothes all over my room and still they had no idea. So now it was just time to place him directly in front of their faces, so I scheduled a dinner with them for the first time, I wrote my name and a time in an open date slot on the scheduling calendar that loosely hung from the refrigerator for that ridiculous purpose.
Days later, I sat politely while watching my parents arrive at the dinner table while apologizing for being late as they sat in their normal chairs as if they were assigned seats. It was always the same scene whenever we would have dinner together, Mother at one end of the table and Father at the far opposite end with work related stories flying back and forth across the table with the most annoying business like laughter filling the air at the punch lines. After some time they would turn their attention to me, with subtle looks of disappointment on their faces realizing that I wasn’t participating. Usually I would say nothing at all while offering only a fake pretentious smile as I put my hands in the air to let them know that I had nothing to share and for them to continue among themselves. However, this time, I did have something to say, “Mother…, Father, there is someone here that I want you to meet.”
“Sahona, you never bring friends home to meet us, what a nice surprise. Well, where is she?” Mother said intrigued.
“He,” I emphasized, “is in the other room.”
“He…?” Father repeated.
I excused myself from the table and came back into the dining room hand in hand with Ian and motioned for him to take the seat next to me.
“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Story. It’s nice to finally meet you. My name is Ian.”
Father gulped down his drink as if the situation was sobering him too quickly.
“Hello Ian, Sahona hasn’t mentioned you before. Are you from around here son?” Father asked.
“Yes, I live two streets over, the Valley Springs Estates.”
“Hmmm… very nice. So that means you go to school with Sahona… What do your parents do for a living?” Mother inquired.
“Mr. and Mrs. Rumsart are too up in age to work and besides that there are eight other children living there so I guess that is their job.”
“I know much about the Rumsarts. They’ve opened their home to strays.”
“Mother!” I yelled angrily.
“Excuse me, maybe that isn’t the correct terminology, children without parents, foster kids, yeah that’s it… So you’re obviously one of their foster children?”
“Yes, I am.”
Father interrupted once he had just enough bourbon to get that buzz back that allowed him to function properly.
“So what’s the nature of your relationship with our daughter?”
“Honny and I have been dating for two years now and...”
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