Chapter 4 – Daphnee's POV

Ticket to Ride

My plan has backfired.

Here I am, in another country on another continent surrounded by carefree boys, tourists most of them, from all over the planet and all I can think about is the stupid one I left in a bathroom back home.

All I can think about is his hands on me and his lips against my mouth and I hate this.

Making out with him was supposed to be a way to get him out of my system, not for him to infiltrate my system and plant his roots in there.

I might have enjoyed making out with the guy, but I seriously hate him.

So, I don't enjoy my trip as much as I would have liked. Plus, I have to suffer the company of my dreadful step-brother, Kevin, a complete and utter tool. If they needed to put a picture in the dictionary to give an example of human trash, his face would be the prized winner.

He's a lazy waste of space. He's a closer-to-thirty-than-twenty grown ass adult who still lives with his parents, mooches off their money and has them drag his useless ass on vacation. And he has the nerve to complain and say he didn't actually want to be here. I wish I could push him off a boat so he could get eaten by sharks.

I'm actually freaking ecstatic when the trip is finally over, that's how ridiculous my life is.

The flight is long and I try not to count how many days till the next flea market.

I get back home late in the evening. I'm still jet lagged.

I could call Lexi but I doubt her pure mind is going to react well to me telling her that I didn't enjoy the sex during my trip because I was thinking about another dude.

I love my friend but there are some things I just don't talk about with her. I brush things off, like they're not a big deal, I mention them in passing, I joke about them and she thinks I'm just making stuff up or exaggerating because she couldn't truly support me in my bad decisions. Basically, she's not emotionally equipped to deal with my shit.

It's not a problem that she's still a virgin, that she never really had a real boyfriend because lets face it, you can't count Alex as a boyfriend when you have inside genital. The problem is that her world is very different from my own.

She's still shaken after her parents spilt up. I'd give anything for that. I'd give anything for a nasty divorce because that would mean that I at least know my father. I love my mom and everything she's done for me, she's my hero for being a single mom when I was younger, but the truth is, I kind of hate her too for never fessing up and telling me who my dad is.

And let's not even start on my father.

With my last name, maybe it's George Harrison. My Beatles obsession would make sense.

The thing is, at this point of the life game, I don't even want to meet my father. I would just like to know who he is so I can be the one ignoring his existence, not the other way around.

I'm petty like that.

And I'm hungry. And I'm never going to sleep with the jet lag and the buzzing mind.

So of course, I head to a too familiar crappy 24/7 diner.

I shouldn't be coming here so often. That familiarity should be what's worrying me, not one make out session with some random dude.

After I made sure that my hair is securely in place in my ponytail and that my tits aren't hanging out of my bra, I get out of my car and slowly stroll into the crappy diner.

No one is at the cash, but there's a yummy boy cleaning his grill with a spatula.

"Sorry sir, it's strange, there are no wieners on the menu, yet I know I can get some here," I tell him a little too loudly, and I hop on the counter, crossing my legs, leaning a little forward so I can smooch my boobs together.

The beautiful bastard doesn't even look my way, he just keeps working. "Get off my counter," he just tells me.

I grin way too much. I know what I'm about to say so I'm already amused with myself. "Only if you stuff your whole fist in your mouth."

Fred slaps the spatula down, bows his head a little and shakes it. He's annoyed with me but a little amused too. I can see it from the smile slowly forming at the corner of his mouth. He turns his head and finally looks at me. He's smiling. "Where do you even come up with that stuff?"

"My beaaaaautiful mind." I keep grinning. "Sooooo, it should be time for your break soon."

He shakes his head again. "Seriously?"

"Totally."

"I feel like Buffy working at the Double Meat palace with Spike still thirsting for her."

"I'm pretty sure you didn't mean to do that, but that totally turns me on," I wiggle my eyebrows. He rolls his eyes.

"Big surprise there. Is there anything that doesn't turn you on?"

"The Rolling Stones!" I exclaim.

That's when his co-worker decides to come out of the storage room.

I hop off the counter and ask, "Hey Phil! Wanna watch Fred and I make out in the freezer?"

He flips me off. "You can take a fifteen minute break Mason, just try not to contaminate the whole restaurant with bodily fluids. We do have an inspection coming up soon."

Fred looks at Phil like he could shove his head in the hot fries' oil.

Hooooooot.

Fred I mean, not the oil. I mean, the oil is hot but Fred is hotter and sweet lord and saviour McCartney I need to get some sleep soon.

Fred takes off his apron and hat and leaves them on the counter while we head outside. Instead of going towards my car though he leads us towards the picnic tables.

I pout. He laughs at me.

"So, what have I missed while I was gone?" I ask. I might as well talk if we aren't going to play.

That makes him smile for some reason. "The blossoming relationship of Blake and Lexi."

I choke on my saliva. "Seriously?"

"Yep, it's kind of cute." Well, who would have thought... Sure, Lexi totally had a thing for him when we were younger, though she never would admit it, even to herself, but the girl was essentially a nun. I never thought two weeks would be enough to get her in the game.

"Is your sister staying at Blake's place tonight?" I ask Fred.

"Yeah," he answers and there's that special smile on his lips, the one he keeps for his little sister. His mother is useless so Fred is basically the one running their house. He has to work here to make end meet. And he's the one that takes care of his sister. He's more like a father than a brother.

"She'll be crushed when she learns her man is taking on a side bitch," I point out and sit on the table part of the picnic table while Fred sits on the chair part of it.

He narrows his eyes at me. "Tread carefully when talking about my little sister Harrison."

I chuckle and grab his hand and start rubbing the tight knots in them and his upper arm. Poor guy's nerves are a mess. He never rests enough. "Hey, I'm just saying, she had Blake in her pocket and now she might be losing him to some sexy mama cougar."

"Remind me why I've missed you again?" Fred teases, but he's closing his eyes. I know that if I keep this hand-massaging up for long enough he'll totally fall asleep on my lap. He would definitely need it.

"Oh I would but for some reason you've suddenly screwed tight your loose morals and you're above having sex in my car," I answer.

"You have a yellow Beetle. How is that an inconspicuous sex car?"

I snort. "That's because it's totally not supposed to be inconspicuous sex."

Fred shakes his head. "You have voyeurism problems."

"It's exhibitionism problems darling," I tell him and bop his nose. He scrunches it a little. It's all sorts of adorable.

"Oh, forgive me for not knowing the right clinical term for your sexual deviancies."

"You're mean. You suck."

"You're right. I'm mean. Mean people suck. Nice people swallow."

I shake my head. "I walked right into that one."

"Totally."

"So, no sexy time?"

Fred yawns and leans his head against my knee. "I'm waaaaaay too exhausted and you didn't actually come here for that."

"Oh, what did I come for then?"

"To talk to a friend."

I snort. But he's right. I mean, sure banging him would have been nice, I'm pretty sure it would have taken my mind off of everything for a little while, but that's not what I really wanted.

I wanted someone to talk to, someone I don't mind knowing all the ugly sides of me, someone who actually knows them without judging me. Sure, I love Alex and Lexi and Vanessa but I also always worry about their judgement. I worry that I might not be enough for them, worry that who I really am is not good enough.

I worry about disappointing them.

Because deep down, I know I'm not good enough.

And Fred has totally fallen asleep against my knee. I smile and let him rest.

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