Chapter 2
Kailey
Ilive in my parent’s walk-out basement, which contains a finished two-bedroom apartment.
When they were house-hunting, it was their main reason for buying this property, knowing my little brother or I would use it.
Having my own space, but still living with my parents, has been wonderful, especially for my savings account.
After the breakup with Brandon, I decided to stay and enroll into the nursing program at the local community college.
Before walking up the staircase into the main part of the house, I slide my sandals off.
Carrying the pair in my left hand while taking the stairs two at a time to try and make up some time.
The closer to the top I get, my brother’s voice can be heard, yelling at his PC.
Coming to a stop outside his door, I slide my flip flops back on.
Leaning into his door frame, I use my foot to push the door open.
A smile spreads across my face as I quietly take in the view of him.
Travey is sitting in a rolling black chair directly in front of his PC, playing Rainbow Seven online.
Catching me off guard, he yells into his headset, “Head shot!!”
I slide one of his ear pieces off, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Are you winning?”
A devilish grin spreads across his face, his brown eyes never leaving the PC monitor as he responds casually, “Always… My clan is in a tournament right now.” He moves his mouse at a crazy speed while pressing buttons on his keyboard.
I know I don’t have a lot of time, but I enjoy the moment I have to watch him while he’s in the zone. Focused is an understatement.
He only allows me to call him Travey. To everyone else he is Travis.
We are almost three years apart and get along great.
The story we’ve always been told is that when mom brought him home from the hospital, I was not a happy toddler.
Super jealous until she pulled me aside, telling me that he was my baby to help take care of.
I’d help feed him with a bottle when mom would hold me while I held onto him.
Our bond has grown ever since. Looking at him now, he’s definitely not so little, more like the big little brother at six feet, with dark brown hair and matching brown eyes.
Travey just finished his junior year last week; in August he will start his senior year of high school. Whew, how the time flies.
Softly placing my hand on his shoulder, I whisper so his “clan” doesn’t hear me through the built-in mic on his headset, “Well, I hope you get first place, Travey. Love you!” Before I can take my hand off of his shoulder, he gives it a quick squeeze.
His face turns to me quickly, mouthing the words, Be safe.
Nodding back at him, I mouth back, Always. I retreat back to the hallway, continuing my rounds to tell both my parents goodbye.
Around this time of night on a Saturday, Mom and Dad are usually watching TV in the living room.
From the hallway, I can hear the TV, and I can tell they’re watching The Sopranos.
I poke my head into the room, and my parents are so engrossed in the show that they didn’t even notice me.
They’re both sitting in their own recliners, holding each other’s hands casually.
Tony Soprano takes over the screen. Remembering I’m already behind tonight’s schedule, I speed walk into the room.
“I’m heading out to meet Brittney.” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder as I try to talk over the noise of Tony pistol-whipping someone, and give them both a quick side hug and a kiss goodbye on the cheek.
My mom grabs the remote to pause the TV, looking up at me with her bright blue eyes, vibrant like a clear sky on a sunny day.
“What did you girls decide on doing tonight?” She’s wearing a long light pink night gown with ruffles at the bottom hem, and her long black hair is pulled up into a messy bun.
Walking backwards to their front door, keeping eye contact with my mom, I tell them, “We’re going cruising.” I shrug. “And maybe meet up with some friends.”
Dad’s brown hair appears even darker now that it’s damp.
He must’ve showered right before spending time with mom.
He appears comfy, wearing his dark blue pajama pants and a plain white T-shirt.
His hazel eyes make direct eye contact with mine—that signature serious look he gets.
“Please be careful, honey and be home by 2 A.M.” He reclines into his chair and adds, “Hey.” Dad’s tone stops the movement of my feet. “No later.”
Hand grasping the doorknob, I give him a quick, “Will do, Dad. Love you both!” They say it back, and I head out the front door. After I hear the click, that the door is fully closed, I run toward my Camaro.
Even though I am twenty years old, I respect my parents and their rules. It’s their roof I’m living under, not paying any bills except my cell phone and car insurance.
Pulling up to Brittney’s house, I give two honks to let her know I’m in the driveway.
Since it’s a cruising night, we opted to take my 2002 Indigo T-top Camaro with silver metallic racing stripes, over her plain white 1996 Bronco.
We’re craving attention tonight, so I open my trunk before heading to the driver’s side to pop off the T-top.
While unlatching the top, I notice Brittney skipping down her front porch steps.
She lets out an obnoxious whistle before heading to her side, helping remove the T-top.
We both walk over to the trunk, placing each piece in its designated holding spot.
Brittney closes the trunk, leaning her hip into the bumper.
“Damn girl, you look hot. Ow, ow!” Giving me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek, she looks me up and down.
“I really like those hoops.” Playfully, she brushes one with her finger, making it sway against my neck.
I do a twirl, making a show of my appearance for her, finishing with a dramatic bow.
Smacking her butt, I whisper into her ear, “Thank you, beautiful! You look quite sexy yourself.” And she really does.
Brittney is five feet tall, and what the guys call “fun size.” She’s wearing a pair of light jean cutoff shorts, which most likely used to be pants, a white blouse, and black cowgirl boots.
Her blonde hair hangs in a loose side ponytail over her left shoulder.
Brittney closes the passenger door softly, leaning her body over the middle console, and grabs my shoulder. “I hope you are finally ready to have some fun.” Settling back into her seat, she grabs the seat belt. “The guys should already be there.” Turning to face her, I pull her in for a quick hug.
Revving the engine while in neutral, I assure her, “Oh, I’m more than ready.” I shift the car into drive while Britt cranks the radio up. “Ridin’ Solo” by Jason Derulo spills out of the car. It’s time to get this show on the road.