American Woman // Lenny Kravitz

I slip into my car and curse as my knees hit the steering wheel. That girl must be pretty short with the way the seat is all the way forward. I never got a good look at her height, too busy trying to keep my focus off of her tits with that flimsy little top she had on.

I push the seat back with more force than I should but who fucking cares. I have a raging headache, and thanks to the hot af angry girl whose bed I woke up in, a raging hard on. Two things that should never be experienced at the same time. I shove the key fob in the ignition and start the car. But I can't bring myself to pull out of her driveway just yet.

My eyes scan the front of Hannah's house trying desperately to remember something from last night. She lives in a modest house, kind of like my ex-girlfriend's. Her cousin Jeff, my buddy who neglected to mention he had a hot as fuck cousin, lives in my neighborhood. His family has funds, lots of them. Hannah's must do okay, but nothing like ours. I wonder if her family life is happier without all of the bullshit money brings.

I scoff and shake my head, because here I am driving the fruit of all of that bullshit.

Without getting any flashes of recognition, I throw the gearshift into reverse and pull away from her house. Hannah was a total ballbuster this morning. I smile a little at her parting speech before hiding away from me in some part of the house. Something about saving me from a disease and keeping me alive.

She's fucking right. If I was as fucked up as I think, I would have ended up doing something stupid. Well, more stupid than what I did. Hannah was spot on, saying she saved my ass. She really did. I should be grateful. I should be kissing her ass.

Ha. That brings some visuals to mind. I'd love nothing more than to kiss that ass, and then some. Hannah really is hot as fuck. But she's Jeff's cousin and he will more than likely kill me for the little interaction I've already had with her. I need to wipe her from my thoughts. Zap, memory erased.

But a flash of her tiny sleep shorts and those smooth legs rolls across my mind and I know I'm completely fucked where this girl is concerned.

I pull up to a stop sign and try to get my bearings. I should pull over and open my maps to see where I am. When I pick up my phone, I see its dead. Perfect. I hope it died before I could send any more pathetic drunk texts to Amber. I was an asshole to her when we were together, and I've been such a fucked up mess since breaking up with her.

She's done with me and I need to get that through my head. I need to move on. I need to let her be. I need to forget that she's the reason I saw myself for who I really am, and for who I'm really like.

A left turn and then a right and I finally recognize where I am. Middle of town. Hannah lives in the fucking center of Fallbrook. I wondered if she was in the next town over but no such luck. I want out of this town. Away from everything and everyone who has defined me this far. I don't need anything tying me back here, especially a girl.

The rest of the drive back home makes me sick. Sicker than I was when I woke up. My dad is home. If I wasn't in last night's clothes, I wouldn't bother going home at all today. Although, they are clean thanks to Hannah. But I'm a fucking wreck so hanging with Jeff is out. I don't want him to know where I spent the night, anyway. Pete isn't even an option. I don't know what crawled up his ass this year, but he isn't the friend I've known since second grade. He's been a huge dick to me all year and I have no idea why.

Looks like I got back at him with that little gift I left on the hood of his car. I wanted to laugh when Hannah told me that part of last night's story. Probably the only good thing to come out of my drunken escapades. I can't drink like that anymore. I don't want to walk around with memory loss. I don't want to be the Lot joke, and I'm sure that's what I am this morning. People talk, like I told Hannah, especially about me.

I'm the golden boy, the one with the bright future and my wishes at my fingertips. I live in the estates, money to back my dreams, scholarships waiting for me, every kid's dream. Girls throw themselves at me, teachers give me the benefit of the doubt, coaches make me first string. People watch everything I do because they wish they were me, or they wish they were with me.

And I fucking hate every second of it. I may be the golden boy in everyone else's eyes, but what this year has taught me is that my life is a huge fucking show. A total joke, and it's all on me. In books, I would have been the player who falls for the one girl to change his ways. I'd be the popular baller who lands the brainiac and falls madly in love, enough to put him on a path of redemption. But in reality, nothing changed. I stayed the player. I landed the smart girl and took her for granted. I treated her like shit.

Exactly the way my dad treats my mom.

Too soon, I pull my car into the long drive of my house. It's a nice house. Big enough to hide away from my family members. It's just four of us; Dad, Mom, Mark and me. But sometimes the four of us in one place is more than I can take, even if that place is four thousand square feet of silence. I park my car on the side of the garage, a spot reserved for my car. My dad keeps his luxury SUV parked in front when he's in town, which is more often than I'd like.

He came back from his latest business trip last week and he can't leave again soon enough. I consider asking him when the next job will come up but decide against it. That would just create an opportunity for him to start in on me. Criticizing me. Finding every crack in my skills and error in my ways. He's real fucking good at that. Today, I just don't have the energy. I'm still half sick from the beer. I need water and more sleep. Not my dad chewing me out about all the ways I suck.

As quietly as I can, I open the front door and sneak in the house. Dad spends most of his time when he's home in the back den, the room furthest from the front door, so that's the door I use. Thankfully, it looks like I'm in the clear. I use light steps down the hallway to my room and cringe when I hear his voice.

"Figure it out, Sherri. Why do I have to explain this to you every time."

He's such an asshole, so condescending to his wife. I can't believe how long it took me to recognize that I sound just like him. That was like being punched in the face, seeing that my dad's claim of me being his clone was true in so many ways. I look like him, same eye color, same build. He says I'm as close to a twin as he could get. I don't want to be like him. I don't want to have any connection to the way he is. But we share DNA, we share so many traits...doesn't that mean I'm fated to turn out to be just like him in every way?

I've tried to curb that side of me. To hold my tongue and my arrogance. To keep the poison words from falling from my lips. To think better of others and less of myself. It just isn't that easy. I fall into those ways without trying. And last night, I did it again. The beer didn't help, but the way I must have treated Hannah, the way I treated her this morning saying the rumors about us would get out and there was nothing I could do about it. I take a deep breath standing still in the hallway listening to my dad go off on my mom who takes it without saying a word.

I wonder if she was like Amber, quiet when she dated my dad and taking every bite and sting without fighting back. Or was she more like Hannah, a ballbuster who's been verbally bashed into submission.

My mom never fights back. I wonder if she's worried it will get physical, something that I can at least say my dad has never done. He's tossed over our dining room table, broken some shit here and there in anger, but never laid a finger on any of us.

His voice escalates, still calling my mom out.

"This bill was due last week, Sherri. I can't do everything around here. I work sixty hours a week, most of them away from home. You have to do something around here. I'm not working my ass off so you can just lay around all day and read your books."

I don't hear my mom's response. She is the least lazy person I know, working her ass off around the house to keep things running and clean. She doesn't have a job but being the mom in this family is a full-time job. Dad is almost never home, always working on job sites as the foreman for a large commercial construction company, and honestly, he can't be gone long enough. I wish he'd just leave for good. We don't need him around here. Things run really smoothly when he's gone, then he shows back up after a month or two and tells us how we're fucking up. What does he think we do when he's gone? I can't figure out why he thinks so little of his wife and her abilities. So what if she overlooked one bill? I know for a fact that it takes her hours to pay bills and balance the checkbook. She does her best, and a pretty damn good job of it, too.

I'm not in any state to confront him, but I feel that day approaching soon. A time is coming where what he says to me won't matter anymore. I feel it in my gut. I'm going to be telling Mike McKinnely what I really think of him and it won't be pretty.

I move toward my room again when I hear my dad retreat to his den and slam the door shut. Mom must have gone to the kitchen because I hear dishes being washed. I sneak into my room and sink into the bed. My headache hasn't gone away, in fact its worse. I take off my shoes and jeans. The t-shirt stays as I pull up the covers over my head and close my eyes. What a fucked up morning.

I lay still, trying to sleep, but now that my eyes are closed all I see is Hannah standing in front of me in that barely there top and itty-bitty shorts busting my balls. The image in my head is doing things inside my shorts. Fuck. I turn to my other side and adjust the package. Like that's gonna help. I groan and try to think about something else, something freaking boring so I can nod off. I'm too hung over to analyze anything in my life. I need to sleep until I don't feel like I got trampled at the Lot. Jeez maybe I did.

Amber trashed me publicly. I drank until I didn't care. And now I'm paying the price.

My phone buzzes next to the bed, now that it's been charged back to life. I twist to look at the notifications and wish I hadn't. So many messages from Jeff about where the hell I went and if I'm still alive you'd think the guy was my sponsor. At least he isn't blowing up my phone over Hannah. I know that the second he finds out, I'm more than likely dead. The guy is a boy scout for the most part so if he even thinks I messed with his cousin he'll have words with me. More than words. He might actually throw a punch. He's not normally violent. In fact he's broken up a few almost fights between me and Pete this year. But I wouldn't be surprised if I'd finally done the thing that pissed him off enough to throw down.

Actually, when I think about it, Hannah was the one who took me to her place. She could have just left me and there wouldn't be any issue between Jeff and I. He's the only guy I can put up with this year so if he and I start having problems...well then everything in my life will be officially fucked.

I look back at my phone, scrolling past Jeff's buttload of messages, to find three or four from Courtney. What in the hell does a guy have to do to get rid of a full-on clinger? I don't know what else I can say to her. I don't want her. I don't like her. Hooking up with her was the absolute worst decision I've ever made. I will die on that hill, because even breaking up with Amber was at least in her best interest. I may wish things were different, but the girl really shouldn't have anything to do with me. She's too good for me and I will never deserve her. But sleeping with Courtney? Yeah, that only put her on the crazy train and dragged me along with it.

I power my phone all the way off and resume the quest for sweet oblivion. I need to stop the drinking. I need to stop the bullshitting. I need a new fucking life.

The morning after... Hannah has done a number on Matt, but he doesn't even realize what that number is yet. If you read MTT, you might have realized that there is some overlap with that story and this one. I will write mostly original scenes for Matt's book, but when I go back to revise MTT for self-publishing (that is the goal) I am planning to pull a lot of Matt's POV out and keep his story separate. For that reason, I am rewinding here to get Matt and Hannah's beginnings and then pick up where MTT left off...

Too much information, I know, but if you were wondering, that's what's going on here.

ALSO- KEEP YOUR EYE ON JEFF IN THIS ONE! His story's timeline begins during this book so all of his behavior will become curiouser and curiouser (thank you Cheshire cat). I cannot tell you how excited I am about this Fallbrook Hills universe! Brax and Savanna live there too, and I've got so many spin offs and characters plotted out its making me so happy!!

Music: I am following the 80's and 90's theme again with this one and it is AWESOME: Behold

https://youtu.be/UzWHE32IxUc

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