Where to find upholstery for a 1962 Ford Galaxie…?

I am doing up my show car, and am looking to find a good price for custom or original stile seat covers I can re-stretch on my seats… As well as the door panels (etc…)…
Any one know of a place on line or in the Indiana area?
I am on a low budget to do this, so can’t be spending an arm and a leg to do it.
My car is a 1962 Ford Galaxie (not a 500) with a 3 on the tree…

Thanks in advance for the help everyone!

Anyone care to help me with my story?

I love writing, and this is a story that I’m doing for school. Now, you know those types of teachers with their whole cut-and-dry "Beginning, middle and end!" theories…but my short-story is supposed to leave readers in suspense. Do you think this is acceptable? And, what are some things that I can do to improve it? (Note: This story is totally fictional! Also, special typing effects like italization and such won’t show up on Y!A.)

It’s called "Lost", about a girl, Angela, whose car gets crashed by a drunk driver and she wakes up w/ amnesia. It’s due tomorrow, so thanks in advance!!

Mom wants to know if I want to go shopping with her. I must admit that trailing the endless racks at JC Penney’s is not my idea of a good time, but then I remember how I have homework and how I’d rather watch Mom put together hideous outfits then sit at home working with nouns and verbs and all that other confusing stuff for the rest of my Saturday afternoon. Besides, it’s Christmas break. Maybe Mom will let me wander away to the other parts of the mall while she shops, since it is a giving, joyful season.

So I say yes.

We all pile up into our beat-up car that is so old the color is indistinguishable. The seats’ cloth coverings are starting to rip away, proudly sporting their Kool-Aid stains and odor of moldy French fries and hamburgers from McDonald’s.

As I rush in to grab the front seat (for once) I pull on my seat belt (held together with duct tape, must I add), and we chatter about Christmas and what we’re going to get friends and cousins and grandparents.

“I’m going to make Great-Aunt Anne’s old homemade fudges,” says Renee, her chestnut curls, as usual, falling in her face. “Ever since she passed away last Christmas, Uncle Pete’s seemed pretty lonely and sad lately. I’ll make him the white chocolate raspberry ones, since those were his favorite.”

I roll my eyes. If it has to do with cooking, Renee loves it. Every year since she was ten, she’s given away homemade goodies—cookies, breads, cakes, whatever she sets her mind on.

“I have no clue what I’m getting anyone this year,” giggles Hattie, because that’s her, scatterbrained as usual. We all smile and start shooting her practically our whole wish lists. Her blue eyes sparkle at the thought of presents, though. She may be a huge procrastinator, but Hattie always manages to whip something amazing up in the end.

“I think I’m getting Grandma a pair of gloves,” I say, almost visualizing my detailed, organized list—because that’s me—everything orderly, all in its place; the exact opposite of good-natured Hattie, who also happens to basically be my best“est” friend, not just my sister. “And for Grandpa, a card deck.”

“Paul?” My mother inquires, tilting her head back to look at my eldest brother.

And then, it happens.

A car swerves right in front of us. I scream, and I hear Mom yelling every curse in the book. I see the vivid image of the bottle of beer smash on the ground, and a quick sight of the rowdy high-schoolers in the truck, before our car swerves into a ditch.

All of this happens in about two seconds, and then everything goes black.

* * *

I yawn, blinking up into a high ceiling.

Where am I? I wonder, my eyes nervously taking in it all—the thin cover on top of me, who is apparently laying on a bed, all the tubes and poles, one bandage across my eye, I think. A black-and-green beeping thing which seems to be some sort of monitor. And then, as the blurry room comes into focus, I see two people, about, maybe, forty years old, with greying hair, a man and a woman. The man has a little bald spot on the top of his head. They both peer down at me, worried.

“Oh, Angela!” the woman gasps. She collapses into a black plastic chair beside the bed. “Thank God. Angela…Can you hear me, baby?” I suddenly notice she is missing one of her arms, and I almost gasp out loud in gruesome shock.

Who is this mutilated woman, and why is she calling me “baby”? What am I doing here?

“Angela Freeman,” a man remarks, pushing open the door to my room. He is holding a clipboard and is wearing white. He is older than the couple in the room, but he wears glasses and the younger man doesn’t. He does a double take as he realizes I’m really awake. I know this because his eyes widen and then he exclaims, “You’re awake!”

A nurse follows him into the room, wearing an ugly top and white shoes. She pulls up another chair and sits next to me. I’m starting to feel scared.

“Angela? Can you hear me?” she asks calmly.

“Who’s Angela?” I say, confused. “You must have the wrong room.”

The middle-aged couple look shocked. So does the other man and woman, but their expressions slide out to “natural” in half a second. “Oh, lord…” says the woman in the purple shoes, not the white ones of the young blonde lady who’s talking to me.

“Hun, do you know where you are?” the White Shoes one asks, and I don’t know about the others, but I
Oh, CRAP!! It cut off my ending! GRRRR…..
pick up a thread of nervousness in it.

“Yeah,” I say, “in a hospital.”

The faces do their dance again, only this time, they’re skeptical, and confused.

“And who do you think that man in the white coat is?”

“A…a doctor,” I say, piecing it all together. “And are you a nurse?”

She nods, surprised. The doctor scribbles something onto his clipboard.

“Very good, hun. Now, do you know who that couple over there is?” She’s pointing to Balding Man and Purple Shoes Lady.

I squinch my eyes at her. “Um, no. Who?”

“Oh, my God,” Purple Shoes yelps, tears brimming in her eyes. “Oh God, Henry, oh dear God…She doesn’t recognize us! Lord, Henry, she doesn’t even know we’re her parents! ANGELA…?!”

“There, there,” the man who must be Henry says, patting Purple Shoes’s back. “Petunia, darling, it’s all right; it’s all going to be OK.” She is sobbing now.

So Purple Shoes is Petunia.

“My parents?” I say numbly.
I’ve never seen these people before in my life. And why does everybody keep talking about an Angela?

Another girl comes in the door. She has dark circles under her eyes. She looks, maybe, fifteen and is using one crutch, her leg in a bright pink cast. She has some bruises and scrapes on her arm.

“Yes, Hattie?” Petunia says, still sniffling.

Hattie almost drops the cardboard cup she’s balancing, which smells of coffee. She has blonde hair like the nurse, only hers is short, straight, and shiny, and she has blue eyes while the nurse has green. “Oh, wow,” she says immediately brightening. “Hi, Angela! You’re awake!”

“I told you, I’m not Angela,” I repeat. “And I don’t know a Hattie or Henry or a Petunia. Just leave me alone!”
“Listen,” the nurse says to me. She’s still using the soft, comfortable voice, except it’s sterner then before. “Your name is Angela. Do you got that, hun? Angela. You are Angela Freeman, and you were in a car accident two weeks ago and got hit in the head. A splinter of glass shattered into one of your eyes, but it’s going to be OK. You also broke your left pinky and an ankle, but they’re all going to be fine, too. And those people over there, Petunia and Henry, are your mom and dad. Petunia was driving when your car crashed. Hattie was in the car too, the girl with the fractured leg over there. Do you remember anything now?”

“No,” I answer 100% honestly. “I swear, I have never seen any of you before.”

Petunia is bawling and Hattie looks pale and stunned. Henry is trying to calm both of them down. I can see stress on his face.

The nurse says, “Do you understand that your name is Angela?”

I shake my head.

“What is it, then?”

I didn’t expect that one.
“I—I, I don’t know…” I struggle.

“Counseling,” I see the words the doctor’s lips make as he writes. “Amnesia. Tough case.”

The nurse nods, thin-lipped.

Suddenly it feels like I’ve stopped breathing. I’ve lost something, only I don’t know what. And I’m searching for it, I’m searching…I can’t find anything, it’s like I’m trapped, I can’t see anything, who am I…? The thoughts tumble around in my head like a hurricane, and I’m sweating and smothering under the not-knowing. They’re all trying to tell me something, supposedly my life, but I’ve never heard it before and I want it to be fiction. They sound like they’re underwater. I had a brother, Paul, who died…I don’t remember any of it.

I yell that I don’t want to be here, in the hospital, where they say they’re going to take tests and check my brain and convince me who I am.

Because I don’t know. Who I am, I mean.
I jerk my arm up, but it’s taped to a needle with a bag filled with liquid and pain shoots through me. Another bag is filled with yellow…oh my lord. Is that my urine?

I’m going crazy. Something slipped from my mind, my memory, but I don’t know what it is.

I want something, I need something, but it’s gone. I’m desperate.

I’m lost.

In a moment of unconditional and irrevocable rage, I scream:

“NOOO!”

THE END!!! LOL, hope you enjoyed!—soooo sorry about the mix-up!!!! :/

how to dry a wet car seat?

my gf left the windows on the passenger side of her car down when it rained all night. now the car seat is soaking wet. what is the best way to dry it? any tricks? we are just going to drive around with the windows down and crank the heater. if anyone has any tricks to it that would be awesome. thanks in advance!

How does this sound?

Hey, I recently sat down to the computer and started writing this, and I wanted to know what you thought about it. Be brutally honest, too! Thanks in advance.

I walked slowly up the path, disgruntled because of another Saturday that I had to wake up earlier than 1:00. But my father still insisted I come, even though I was a senior in high school and could make my own decisions. I looked down and realized that my shoes didn’t even match; one black and the other brown. I shrugged and continued on, wondering what the big fuss was all about. I remember thinking that my dad must have already hired somebody to replace Sandy. Man, I would miss that old guy. He was like the father I always wanted. But now he was gone, retiring in Colorado, he says. I would want to stay here, in sunny California. But no, he wanted snow. Fine, he could have all the snow his little heart desired, while I was stuck here with my dad. I guess that the fact that I could crawl out of my upstairs window and down to the beach was okay, but, still, I had to live under the same roof as my dad, and until I could move out, I wouldn’t be completely happy.
Or so I thought.
I approached the old, weathered steps that led to the office part of the aquarium. It wasn’t really open to public, but we jokingly referred to it as that because Sandy had always been bringing people here to see the marine animals and try to convince them not to pollute or not to go fishing or other nonsense like that. But I had seen some changed (or seemingly changed people) that had walked out of that doorway.
As the handle of the door twisted, I could almost feel the change in the atmosphere inside. I pushed open the door, heaving a little bit because I knew it always stuck.
“Um… red or yellow?” George, a guy who worked here and I had known all my life, asked. It looked like he was talking to the processor of the old computer we had been trying to fix forever. I was about to make a joke about his sanity when a lilting, musical voice answered.
“Red, please. Yes, that one, the one by your foot.” The voice sounded like it was suppressing laughter when George frantically searched between the mess of wires to find the right one. When he picked it up and held it out, a nicely tanned hand reached out for it. Her nails were long, but not too long, and manicured without nail polish. I was unnaturally pleased that she wasn’t one of those crazy, nail-painting girls. Who cares what color your nails are, anyway?
“Okay… try turning it on, it should boot up now. I wonder who the idiot was who attached all the cables, they were in the wrong places,” she called out to George as I flushed; I was the one who had connected all the cables. They looked like they had gone where I put them.
The computer whirred to life, a gentle hum on the newest processor in the building. Genius, that girl was great. We really needed all the programming on that to keep track of all the information that had been flooding in from our partners up in northern California.
Then a pair of legs was thrust out from under the desk. Nice legs, very muscular, well tanned, yet thin, too. Her flip-flops were slightly sandy, like she had just stepped off the beach. Then she shimmied out from under the desk, stood up, and tried to brush herself free of the dust that grew under there. Her face turned towards me then, just as if she had known I was there the whole time but was a little too busy to talk at the moment. Her eyes turned what seemed like the whole force of the ocean on me, and I felt like God had captured the waves and currents of the sea outside that building and put them inside of her. Crystal blue, they were stunning, and seemed to hold more knowledge and sadness than I thought possible for one human being. Yet they seemed like they were happy, too, and that they only hinted at the sadness that she had seen. I wanted to see her laugh right then, and I knew that I wouldn’t be pleased until I did.
“Hiya, you must be Justin! George was just telling me about you and the other guys who worked here.” So George had already told her about all the other boys who worked here. The other guys, probably so much more handsome in her eyes, would no doubt steal her away before I had a chance to hold more than a two minute conversation with her. Yet when she thrust out her hand for me to shake, I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to hold that warm hand in mine if we walked down the beach. I surveyed the rest of her outfit casually as she glanced around the office. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and long strands of brown hair swept around her face, offsetting her white smile wonderfully. She wore a scooped out tank top with a bathing suit underneath, tied around her neck in a flouncy knot. Her Bermuda shorts fit snuggly, but seemed comfortable on her. A set of hand woven bracelets wrapped around her left wrist, and it looked like each of her friends had made one, judging by the different names on them. I was about to head out back to the tanks when my body took control of my mind. Before I could stop myself, I thrust myself to her, and my lips pressed on hers. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away like I thought she would. My first kiss, though no one ever knew I was a senior in high school and still hadn’t kissed anyone, and it was amazing. She closed her eyes then, and I was about to wind my arms around her waist when George smacks the back of my head.
“WHAT THE HECK, MAN?! What are you doing?” He was totally shocked at my outgoing behavior. Normally, I would stand at the back of the room. I was always alone at parties. Yet she felt like the one. The crazy sparks that were supposed to fly between two people when they first kiss did more than fly; they zigged and zagged through my mind until I thought I was going to collapse from the crazy joy that I got.
“Well, I guess guys in California are just more abrupt than Kentucky.” She giggled, but her eyes strayed to me with questions and – could it be? – a trace of longing. Her cheeks were flushed and her smile crooked, yet it only made her even more beautiful.
“If your dad finds out about this…” George trailed off, shaking his head dutifully.
“He won’t, man, not unless you tell him,” I answered, suddenly scared as to what my father would do. He had always been the protective type.
“Oh, so you aren’t normally like this? Or only when Daddy’s gone?” Her tone was lilting and sarcastic, but real curiosity burned behind her eyes.
“What are you talking about, girl?! This guy has never been the kind of guy to do that. He hasn’t even had a date in his life! Not that girls don’t want him, but he is just that way. Living with his dad all the time, I guess. I mean, look at him. Isn’t he gorgeous…” I cut him off with a quick glare. George rambled. A lot.
“Look, miss, I’m sorry. I really, REALLY, don’t know what happened, and I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” I was red and completely mortified. What did she think of me now?
“Don’t apologize. It was not exactly the romantic first kiss I imagined, but I think I… kinda liked it,” she said, and then flushed as she realized she had said it aloud. Did she say her first kiss? Or did I imagine it? Did I ruin it for her? Or was it more than she had hoped for? My mind was working over time when my dad came in.
His hair was graying badly, but he always tried to keep up his health. He jogged five miles on the beach daily, and I usually did, too, but I went in the opposite direction. He looked too business-type for California. No other marine biologist would walk into his office, ready to start checking on porpoises and jelly fish, dressed in a tie. I mean, really. His slacks were ironed perfectly, and he glanced disapprovingly at my uncoordinated shoe selection, and the girl who was still more of a stranger than I could imagine stifled a giggle as she followed his line of vision. I glanced at my shoes, only to see that hers were to totally different colors of brown, and two different styles.
“Justin, I see you have met Paige Abney, so now you can get to work,” my dad grunted, to the point as always, and even though I didn’t even know her name, I nodded. I turned on my heels and began walking to the back door that led to the tanks outside where all the wildlife was held. I glanced over to Sandy’s old desk and saw that she had already put her stuff up.
Her laptop was a white Apple version, and it looked too complicated for me. She had three novels, each wider than my head, stacked on top of each other, the top one with a bookmark sticking out of it. The spine of it said The Complete Collected Works of John Keats. Poetry, she liked poetry! We had too much in common. I wondered briefly if she wrote her own like I did. Then I noticed a pair of cheep sunglasses was hanging lopsided on her computer, and they had the little fake gem stones glued all over them. It looked like the type of thing you would see small children making at Arts & Crafts, but a picture was pinned underneath the glasses. It had four girls who were smiling and posing hilariously at the camera, all wearing the same kind of glasses.
Her bulletin board, like each of ours, was now posted with reports, memos, and scraps of random papers. But most prominent were the pictures. They were scattered everywhere, pinned up with every last thumb tack we had in the office. I slowed so I could look at them, though I only had the chance to glance at about three as I went by.
One was of three young teen girls (I recognized Paige immediately due to her eyes) at an ice skating rink, all leaning precariously on each other. Their faces were flushed, probably from the cold, and they all seemed to be laughing crazily. Her eyes didn’t hold the sadness they did now, but they were still just as knowledgeable. It shocked me.
Another picture was of a group of nine girls, each grinning hugely, and the tallest one holding a shorter one in her arms. Paige was peeking out behind a girl with glasses, and had her arm draped around the shoulder of another with freckles. You could see how easily they commingled, lounging against each other in the bright sunlight.
The last picture that caught my eye as I went by was one of Paige and five other girls. Their names were scrawled on the picture in elegant script, and it looked recent. They were all lounging on the back of a house boat. The names were: Paige, Cassidy, Whitney, Anne, Kaitlyn, and Emily. I presumed these were all her best friends, and in the corner was the date: June 23, 2007. Only two months before the present date. She must have been heartbroken to leave them. I could only shake my head and wonder.
“Hey, wait for me!” Paige called, and I thrilled at her touch when she laid her hand lightly on my shoulder. “Your father wanted you to show me around since I am going to be working here for a while,” she whispered, “but I just wanted to come anyway.” Her smile was slightly teasing, but mostly curious. I tried to shrug nonchalantly, yet I could almost feel her disbelief in my casual acts.
“Okay, then I get to show you what I do most of the time.” She nodded, almost confused, and I laughed inwardly at the surprise I was sure to see on her face.
We opened the back door, and she cringed as it squeaked, though I barely noticed that. I heard her mention something about ‘oil’. We walked on the small stone pathway that let from tank to tank, grass growing around the edges of it, and sand beyond that. Paige slipped off her shoes, one at a time, then picked them up in her right hand and grabbed my hand with her other hand. I was still wondering if I was in shock after the kiss and imagining this when she tugged me into the sand, giggling. Her toes splayed out confidently as she flitted across the grounds with me, and her chaotic expression made me laugh. Had I really just met her 15 minutes ago? We slowed to a walk, hers more bouncy than mine, and I savored the sweet breeze, bringing in salty air and that sea-like brine I lived for every morning. The sun baked my face, and I could already tell that I would still have the sun-induced hi-lights later in the colder part of the year. I turned to Paige when she let loose her hair, and I was surprised to see the layers fall all the way down her back, sun bleached streaks in hers, too. It was thick, and waved silkily as we trotted in the sand. Finally we approached the first tank.
“Okay, so this tank is my favorite. Now let me show you why,” I murmured close to her ear. Then I broke into a run and hopped up on the edge of the tank. I quickly stripped off my shirt and dove in. When I came up she seemed not to be looking at me, but to be looking at something behind me, a look of joy in her eyes. I smiled because I knew exactly what she was looking at. I dove back under and called with the whistle that was around my neck to the two shapes that were swimming together. They rushed forward to me, and I got lost as I did every time I worked with the two Harbour Porpoises. I could hear their soft clicks under water, and it made me want to burst with joy just looking at their joy. They were such free creatures.
I came up for air and flipped around to explain to her their names, only to find her slipping off her tank top and shorts, in her bathing suit only. My mind went into shock at the sight of her in a bikini. W-o-w. She crawling onto the edge, and dove right in, perfect swan dive all the way. She swam under the water, not at all on top of the water in the free style stroke I swam. She swam peacefully, not in any hurry, and I admired the way her hair flowed out behind her, becoming threads of silk all woven together. She didn’t come up for air once until she got to me.
“Harbour Porpoises! I have never got to work with and porpoises before! Only Dolphins. My boss said that when I got out of college he would think about it, so I moved out here. I’m heading off to be a freshman at DeVry University. Here at Long Beach, too. I thought it was the best place to go, since I love the west coast. Plus, now I can work here without having to worry about driving so far to school. Will you be a sophomore?” She was so happy, just babbling on, and I was so shocked. She would be going to the same school I was. She would be a freshman like I was. Would she be as shocked as I was?
“I… uh… whoa…” I couldn’t say anything. Today was turning out to be the luckiest day ever.
“Justin?! Are you okay?” Paige looked nervous at my blank stares.
“Yes! I’m great! Better than great!” I burst out with. A grin slowly spread across my face and I pulled her thin waste to me and kissed her again with new enthusiasm and I greater hope for a happy ending than I ever had in my life before. I didn’t care if she hated me for going at it a second time. I didn’t care if she hated me for not even knowing anything about her before kissing her like this. I didn’t care, because it all felt just so right for once in my life. Then she wrapped her arms around me neck and pulled closer, like she too needed the comfort that I sought with her. Her lips her slightly parted as were mine, and I breathed in the heady scent that came off her smooth skin. I let my hands play across her hair, loving the way it slid easily through my fingers. Her fingers wound themselves in my hair, and they knotted quickly as she clutched to me, obviously wanting nothing more then what I wanted; to stay welded like this forever. I closed my eyes to enjoy the moment with all of my other senses when something rammed into my back. I flew forward into the water, pushing her down with me. I came up choking, but when I looked around, she wasn’t above the water.
“Oh no. Oh no no no no no! Paige!” I flipped around frantically, glancing through the clear waters of the pool, trying to see if she was on the bottom. She probably hit her head on the shallow floor, and I would never forgive myself if she was hurt. I searched in a mad daze until I heard a scream.
Not a scream of terror, but of joy.
I flipped around to see her hanging on the fin of one of the porpoises. She was being pulled towards me, and I smiled when I saw her face. But my smile faded when I saw the huge gash on her forehead. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that it was stupid to be in the tank without greeting the porpoises. They were so spoiled and needed the attention so badly that they would butt anyone in the back who ignored them. Though I had taught them myself how to pull people on their fins like they were now, they were still dangerous creatures if they wanted to be.
“Paige!” I screamed, and my frantic expression must have scared her a little, because her smile faltered, then fell of her face, as she noticed the warm blood trickling down the side of her face. She let go of the fin to reach up and touch her head and slid into the water. I swam to her swiftly, pushing my arms hard against the waters that pushed me backwards. When I finally got to her, she was pale and trying hard to breathe through her mouth.
“That was fun,” she laughed shakily, still breathing through her mouth. I guessed at that point that she couldn’t stand the smell of blood. It wasn’t doing much for me at the time, either.
“Let’s go inside. Now,” I was firm because I didn’t like the odd color she was turning. She seemed almost green when she nodded.
I was able to swim with her clinging to me back because, though she was easily as tall as me, she was very light. I lifted her gently up on the ledge and swung my legs over. Then I picked her up in my arms and cradled her to my chest like a young child. I was walking swiftly up the path, ignoring the way the hot stones burned my bare feet when she started shaking slightly in my arms, even with the heat. I brushed the hair out of her eyes and she smiled weakly. Her eyes were cloudy but she tried to stay focused.
“It’s my fault. Really, it is. I wanted to try riding them like I saw you yesterday when I came by to get the details on my job. But I didn’t know it was so fast. They just took off, and I couldn’t hold and that’s when I cut my head, when they dove under and I hit the bottom. I’m so sorry,” tears leaked over the rims of her eyes, sorrowful and pained, whether because of the pain or the remorse, I couldn’t tell, but I very gentle kissed the tip of her nose to calm her down.
I really needed to get to know this girl.
I kicked open the door and rushed inside, ignoring the gaping expressions from the two college guys who clocked in a few minutes after we went outside. They were always the ones with new girlfriends every week, and it shocked them to see me with this gorgeous girl. I kept on walking to the beat up fabric couch that we had in the back of the room so we could watch the plasma if ever we got to bored, which was often. Ever so gently I laid her down, and slid the only pillow under her head, gesturing that I would be right back.
George had been hunched over at his desk, typing away, when he glanced up to see why they gasped. His expression went from curious to appalled in record time.
“Justin, oh my gosh, what did you do to her, boy?” Of course, always assume it was my fault. I ignored him and ran to grab a wet cloth to lie on her forehead. I grabbed the clean one off the rack in the bath room and ran it under the warm water. I wrung it out a little and dashed back into the main office. I sat on the couch, trying not to shake it too much, and placed the washcloth over her head, dabbing gently to try and clean off some of the blood. The color wasn’t returning to her cheeks, which bothered me deeply.
“Carson, call the hospital. Tell them we have a head injury and they might need to come here,” My voice was sharp as I whipped orders to one of the college boys. He was the kinder of the two, and I knew he wouldn’t argue. He seemed to keep the girls for longer, whether he was more appealing or appreciated them longer, I didn’t know.
“Justin, I’m getting your dad,” George said, then dashed off before I could stop him. I sighed in defeat at what was sure to be the worst lecture I had ever gotten in my life.
“I don’t need any help… I’m fine, really… See?” Paige lifted herself up gently on the couch, and then swung her legs over the edge. Still holding the wash cloth to her head she turned to me and smiled weakly before taking two steps. On her third step, her face went bone white again and her knees gave way. She sank to the floor and I reached down to pick her up. My face was a mask of pain and worry, seeing as the only girl who had ever shown any interest with me would probably never want to see me again because I had put her life on the line. I cradled her in my arms again, and then tried to set her on the couch. But her fingers that had twined around my neck refused to let go. I reached up with one hand and tried to unlock her fingers, but she refused to unwind them. She still managed to smile slyly, and I sighed in defeat and sat on the couch, with her on my lap. She refused to let go of my neck, afraid I would leave; though that was the last thing I wanted to do.
Her nose was buried in the crook of my neck and my cheek resting in her hair when my father stormed into the room.
“JUSTIN!” he bellowed the second he caught sight of my head resting on her hair, and her face buried in my shoulder blade. It only made things worse. “What did you DO to her? You called the HOSPITAL because of a HEAD INJURY?! WHAT HAPPENED?!?!” His voice was threatening to reach new levels of maximum volume, so I blurted out.
“Nothing, I did nothing. It was that porpoise that you have scared to death out there,” I new it wasn’t true that the porpoises were scared, because I interact with them daily. I just used that card because I knew that they were terrified when he had taken them from the ocean uncalled for. I will always use that against him. Wild animals need to be left to be wild, free. He didn’t understand that, just like he never understood me.
“Justin…?” Paige mumbled into my skin. I turned back to her right as the door opened, with Carson leading in the local doctor, Doc, as we called him. I had visited him last time I broke my arm on the rocks by the beach. He was a good guy, and I knew he could help her.
“Shh, its okay, the doctor is going to take a look at your head and see if you’re okay,” I was talking quietly to her, almost as is she was a child, and she noticed. She looked up and smiled thankfully for my patience.
“Justin, you said head injury on the phone, so what happened?” Good old Doc, right to the injury. So I explained in brief what happened. Paige groaned when I got to the part of her diving under the water and hitting her head on the bottom. I casually left out the part of kissing in the tank.
“Mmmm hmmm, sounds like a possible minor concussion. But I can stitch her up here, if you would like,” he suggested, and I looked at Paige. She wasn’t scared, or was hiding it well if she was, and I questioned her with my eyes. She nodded once, and I nodded at Doc. Yet I about told him not to when he got out the needle he was going to use to stitch up the cut.
“Son, you might want to hop up while I do this,” Doc said, and I tried to slide out from under Paige. Yet her arms were clinging desperately to my neck, and her eyes were a silent begging not to go. I went to reach around my neck and forcefully remove her hands when the symbolism of it caught up with me.
If I really loved her, and wanted her, even if I knew nothing about her, I couldn’t leave her now, despite my fear of needles. But if I made her release me, then I was saying, in a way, that she didn’t mean that much to me.
And she did mean everything to me, this total stranger who made me believe in love at first sight.
So I grasped her closer, pressing her skin against mine, relishing the warmth, and shrugged at Doc. He looked at me with strange eyes, eyes that were finally happy, seeing me happy, like he had never seen me before. I bent down gently and pressed my lips against hers. My dad’s sharp gasp almost made me stop, but I realized that I should be able to make my own decisions. So I pressed my mouth lightly to hers, and she pressed her lips against mine, almost as if she was scared that if she wasn’t strong enough that I would leave. I parted my mouth slightly, once more wishing that this moment could be all that I would ever live with forever. I felt the corners of her mouth turn up slightly and I had to release her for Doc.
I couldn’t bear to see him put stitches in her head, even though I was sure that her bangs, cropped shorter than the rest of her hair, would cover them when he was done. I played with her fingers, lifting them slightly and learning the contours of how they rose and fell. Doc sighed and got up, so I presumed he was done.
“Well, I suggest that she not come to work for the next week,” her eyes flashed with steel and a possible rebellion against doctor’s wishes on that, “and that she take a couple of pain killers tonight. The stitches should actually dissolve after a while, so don’t worry about getting them wet. Be careful next time,” Doc threw one more accusing glare at me, and then walked through the door.
“I am not going to sit on my butt at home for the next week! I am coming tomorrow, I don’t care what that fancy shmancy doctor of yours says…” Paige was rattling on, so I assumed she felt better. I let her sit in my lap as everyone knelt in front of the couch and asked her what had happened and how it felt to have stitches. I listened to her musical voice, reminding me of wind chimes the way it rose and fell in a beautiful tone. Her cheeks were gaining their color back. Her eyes still looked sad, but not as doleful as before. They seemed almost preoccupied from the sadness that hung on her soul, the sadness I had sensed before I had even said a word to her. I wanted to take it all away from her, make her happy, even if I had to jump off a cliff to do it. She shifted slightly in my lap, but not farther away, rather closer to me but still angled so that she could talk to them. She let one of her hands fall from my neck, her fingertips brushing along my still bare chest when she let them fall in a way that made my breath catch and my heart race. She used her hands animatedly, waving them around while she talked. Yet she somehow managed to inconspicuously brush my cheek, or my hair, or my shoulders as she talked. Her eyes never glanced at me, but if I shifted, she did, readjusting like I was her gravitational pull. The way her breath, vanilla and mint all mixed together, tickled my cheek made me want to inhale deeply. She wore no perfume, but the fragrance just emanating from her skin made my senses go mad. Because she was still in a bikini, I could trace down her arms, lightly, so that no one would notice. I slid my hands down the small of her back, angling her again so that no one could see. I relished at the warmth she emitted, and traced my thumb down her spine once more while I spoke.
“Paige,” I whispered with my lips close to her ears. I saw her shiver, but not out of discomfort. “I might need to take you home now. You can show me where you live. I’ll drive your car and then walk home. How about it?” I asked, but my voice sounded more persuasive than just a question.
“That would be great, thank you. And thank you for this… exciting day,” She laughed lightly. She stood up, knees shaking slightly. I bent down to pick her up, but she waved me off, clutching around my shoulder instead. I wrapped my arm around her waste, hugging her to me for support. She waved a casual goodbye as we sauntered clumsily out of the office. Once down the path, she whispered in my ear.
“I think I’ll like it here. As soon as Doc says I can get back to work, we are trying that again. The poor porpoises didn’t know I was such a novice,” This girl, this amazingly reckless yet still timid girl, this girl who drove me crazy, this girl I wanted to know everything about, this girl drove me insane right at that moment; insane in the sense of this-is-first-love-so-I’ll-put-up-with-you-because-I’m-in-love-with-you insane.
Where is your car?” I blew off her comment, inwardly shaking at the thought of having to repeat this whole ordeal.
“Over there,” she pointed casually as she looked sideways at my face. She really was quite tall, taller than most of the other girls I had seen around. She was only about an inch shorter than me, and I think I liked having someone my height.
I followed the line of her finger and stopped momentarily. Why was I not surprised that she drove a convertible? And not just any convertible, but a BMW M3 convertible, top of the line. I continued on down the sandy path towards the lot, but not before she misread my pause.
“I know, it is kinda shabby, but I like it,” she mumbled defensively. Shabby? Did she say shabby? Good grief, this girl’s parents must be money bags.
“Not shabby at all. Plus, at least your car runs. Mine is still stuck at a garage. Plus, I like the red.” I was teasing a little, but I really did like the color.
“You’re teasing me. You don’t like it, do you?” She sounded playfully hurt. I tapped her lightly on the nose with my finger before opening the passenger side door. She looked slightly disgruntled that I got to drive, but I ignored her. Walking casually around the front of the car, I wondered if this would be some of the last time we would have to talk about what happened today. And I wasn’t talking about her head injury. My fingers hesitated to open the door, afraid of the certain banishment I was going to get from her. I was afraid of rejection, and that was why I had never tried harder to get a girl. I didn’t want to be turned away.
I opened the door anyway.
I sat down quietly and then shut the door. Then all of a sudden she was on top of me, kissing me so roughly that I gasped. Her mouth was moving in earnest on mine, and her hands clutched the side of my face as if they could hold me there if I didn’t want to be there. But I did want to be there. I was just confused as to why she was suddenly passionate about the way she kissed; before it had been gentle, yet this was rough and desperate to make me understand. Yet I didn’t quite understand, especially when I felt salty tears slide from her cheeks onto mine, and her body being taken over by wracking sobs as she clung to me. I knew then that she wasn’t lying about her first kiss, because the way she acted as if she needed this to go on forever was completely understood, understood by me, the novice at relationships. I took the side of her face in my hands and lifted it gently up so that I could see why she was crying. Silent tears slid down her body as sobs continued to shake her slender frame. Through her sobs she managed to choke out words that made everything clear.
“I just thought… you were the one… as soon as I looked at you… I wanted to touch your face… then you kissed me… but I was sure… after you saw how stupid I was… in the tanks… that you… wouldn’t… want… me…” her fears, irrational as they were, took over once again and she buried her face in my chest. I clutched her hair and pressed my lips to it, and held her tightly.
“I never believed in love at first sight until today,” I whispered to her as I pulled her up to cradle next to my neck, “but you made me believe. You made me believe, you, this complete stranger, made me believe that I could find someone who would understand. And I will never give up on that. That rush of my blood hot through my veins because of you will never go away, even if you do. For the only way I will leave you is if you don’t want me anymore.” My voice was confident at the end, and she looked up at me with tears still in her eyes. Her lips brushed along my neck, up my chin, until she found my lips. It was ever so light, the way she brushed against my mouth. Like a butterfly, so elegant yet fragile.
“We might want to get you home now,” I suggested quietly, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Yup, that would be a good thing,” she said in a still shaky voice. I lifted her up gently, trying to reposition myself as I did so. When she had thrown herself on top of me, we had slid lower in the seat until her foot had hit the reclining button and it had slid back. She was practically lying on top of me. I slid her next to me, yanked up the seat, and the pulled her up on my lap delicately. I could drive like that, surely. She looked over her shoulder in question, and snuggled closer when I smiled at her. Her cheek was pressed against mine when I pulled out of the lot.
“So, tell me about yourself,” I said conversationally. I slid to the far left of the seat and let her slide down to the right since she was thing enough. Turning the steering wheel would be a problem if I didn’t.

How does this sound?

Hey, I recently sat down to the computer and started writing this, and I wanted to know what you thought about it. Be brutally honest, too! Thanks in advance.

I walked slowly up the path, disgruntled because of another Saturday that I had to wake up earlier than 1:00. But my father still insisted I come, even though I was a senior in high school and could make my own decisions. I looked down and realized that my shoes didn’t even match; one black and the other brown. I shrugged and continued on, wondering what the big fuss was all about. I remember thinking that my dad must have already hired somebody to replace Sandy. Man, I would miss that old guy. He was like the father I always wanted. But now he was gone, retiring in Colorado, he says. I would want to stay here, in sunny California. But no, he wanted snow. Fine, he could have all the snow his little heart desired, while I was stuck here with my dad. I guess that the fact that I could crawl out of my upstairs window and down to the beach was okay, but, still, I had to live under the same roof as my dad, and until I could move out, I wouldn’t be completely happy.
Or so I thought.
I approached the old, weathered steps that led to the office part of the aquarium. It wasn’t really open to public, but we jokingly referred to it as that because Sandy had always been bringing people here to see the marine animals and try to convince them not to pollute or not to go fishing or other nonsense like that. But I had seen some changed (or seemingly changed people) that had walked out of that doorway.
As the handle of the door twisted, I could almost feel the change in the atmosphere inside. I pushed open the door, heaving a little bit because I knew it always stuck.
“Um… red or yellow?” George, a guy who worked here and I had known all my life, asked. It looked like he was talking to the processor of the old computer we had been trying to fix forever. I was about to make a joke about his sanity when a lilting, musical voice answered.
“Red, please. Yes, that one, the one by your foot.” The voice sounded like it was suppressing laughter when George frantically searched between the mess of wires to find the right one. When he picked it up and held it out, a nicely tanned hand reached out for it. Her nails were long, but not too long, and manicured without nail polish. I was unnaturally pleased that she wasn’t one of those crazy, nail-painting girls. Who cares what color your nails are, anyway?
“Okay… try turning it on, it should boot up now. I wonder who the idiot was who attached all the cables, they were in the wrong places,” she called out to George as I flushed; I was the one who had connected all the cables. They looked like they had gone where I put them.
The computer whirred to life, a gentle hum on the newest processor in the building. Genius, that girl was great. We really needed all the programming on that to keep track of all the information that had been flooding in from our partners up in northern California.
Then a pair of legs was thrust out from under the desk. Nice legs, very muscular, well tanned, yet thin, too. Her flip-flops were slightly sandy, like she had just stepped off the beach. Then she shimmied out from under the desk, stood up, and tried to brush herself free of the dust that grew under there. Her face turned towards me then, just as if she had known I was there the whole time but was a little too busy to talk at the moment. Her eyes turned what seemed like the whole force of the ocean on me, and I felt like God had captured the waves and currents of the sea outside that building and put them inside of her. Crystal blue, they were stunning, and seemed to hold more knowledge and sadness than I thought possible for one human being. Yet they seemed like they were happy, too, and that they only hinted at the sadness that she had seen. I wanted to see her laugh right then, and I knew that I wouldn’t be pleased until I did.
“Hiya, you must be Justin! George was just telling me about you and the other guys who worked here.” So George had already told her about all the other boys who worked here. The other guys, probably so much more handsome in her eyes, would no doubt steal her away before I had a chance to hold more than a two minute conversation with her. Yet when she thrust out her hand for me to shake, I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to hold that warm hand in mine if we walked down the beach. I surveyed the rest of her outfit casually as she glanced around the office. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and long strands of brown hair swept around her face, offsetting her white smile wonderfully. She wore a scooped out tank top with a bathing suit underneath, tied around her neck in a flouncy knot. Her Bermuda shorts fit snuggly, but seemed comfortable on her. A set of hand woven bracelets wrapped around her left wrist, and it looked like each of her friends had made one, judging by the different names on them. I was about to head out back to the tanks when my body took control of my mind. Before I could stop myself, I thrust myself to her, and my lips pressed on hers. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t pull away like I thought she would. My first kiss, though no one ever knew I was a senior in high school and still hadn’t kissed anyone, and it was amazing. She closed her eyes then, and I was about to wind my arms around her waist when George smacks the back of my head.
“WHAT THE HECK, MAN?! What are you doing?” He was totally shocked at my outgoing behavior. Normally, I would stand at the back of the room. I was always alone at parties. Yet she felt like the one. The crazy sparks that were supposed to fly between two people when they first kiss did more than fly; they zigged and zagged through my mind until I thought I was going to collapse from the crazy joy that I got.
“Well, I guess guys in California are just more abrupt than Kentucky.” She giggled, but her eyes strayed to me with questions and – could it be? – a trace of longing. Her cheeks were flushed and her smile crooked, yet it only made her even more beautiful.
“If your dad finds out about this…” George trailed off, shaking his head dutifully.
“He won’t, man, not unless you tell him,” I answered, suddenly scared as to what my father would do. He had always been the protective type.
“Oh, so you aren’t normally like this? Or only when Daddy’s gone?” Her tone was lilting and sarcastic, but real curiosity burned behind her eyes.
“What are you talking about, girl?! This guy has never been the kind of guy to do that. He hasn’t even had a date in his life! Not that girls don’t want him, but he is just that way. Living with his dad all the time, I guess. I mean, look at him. Isn’t he gorgeous…” I cut him off with a quick glare. George rambled. A lot.
“Look, miss, I’m sorry. I really, REALLY, don’t know what happened, and I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” I was red and completely mortified. What did she think of me now?
“Don’t apologize. It was not exactly the romantic first kiss I imagined, but I think I… kinda liked it,” she said, and then flushed as she realized she had said it aloud. Did she say her first kiss? Or did I imagine it? Did I ruin it for her? Or was it more than she had hoped for? My mind was working over time when my dad came in.
His hair was graying badly, but he always tried to keep up his health. He jogged five miles on the beach daily, and I usually did, too, but I went in the opposite direction. He looked too business-type for California. No other marine biologist would walk into his office, ready to start checking on porpoises and jelly fish, dressed in a tie. I mean, really. His slacks were ironed perfectly, and he glanced disapprovingly at my uncoordinated shoe selection, and the girl who was still more of a stranger than I could imagine stifled a giggle as she followed his line of vision. I glanced at my shoes, only to see that hers were to totally different colors of brown, and two different styles.
“Justin, I see you have met Paige Abney, so now you can get to work,” my dad grunted, to the point as always, and even though I didn’t even know her name, I nodded. I turned on my heels and began walking to the back door that led to the tanks outside where all the wildlife was held. I glanced over to Sandy’s old desk and saw that she had already put her stuff up.
Her laptop was a white Apple version, and it looked too complicated for me. She had three novels, each wider than my head, stacked on top of each other, the top one with a bookmark sticking out of it. The spine of it said The Complete Collected Works of John Keats. Poetry, she liked poetry! We had too much in common. I wondered briefly if she wrote her own like I did. Then I noticed a pair of cheep sunglasses was hanging lopsided on her computer, and they had the little fake gem stones glued all over them. It looked like the type of thing you would see small children making at Arts & Crafts, but a picture was pinned underneath the glasses. It had four girls who were smiling and posing hilariously at the camera, all wearing the same kind of glasses.
Her bulletin board, like each of ours, was now posted with reports, memos, and scraps of random papers. But most prominent were the pictures. They were scattered everywhere, pinned up with every last thumb tack we had in the office. I slowed so I could look at them, though I only had the chance to glance at about three as I went by.
One was of three young teen girls (I recognized Paige immediately due to her eyes) at an ice skating rink, all leaning precariously on each other. Their faces were flushed, probably from the cold, and they all seemed to be laughing crazily. Her eyes didn’t hold the sadness they did now, but they were still just as knowledgeable. It shocked me.
Another picture was of a group of nine girls, each grinning hugely, and the tallest one holding a shorter one in her arms. Paige was peeking out behind a girl with glasses, and had her arm draped around the shoulder of another with freckles. You could see how easily they commingled, lounging against each other in the bright sunlight.
The last picture that caught my eye as I went by was one of Paige and five other girls. Their names were scrawled on the picture in elegant script, and it looked recent. They were all lounging on the back of a house boat. The names were: Paige, Cassidy, Whitney, Anne, Kaitlyn, and Emily. I presumed these were all her best friends, and in the corner was the date: June 23, 2007. Only two months before the present date. She must have been heartbroken to leave them. I could only shake my head and wonder.
“Hey, wait for me!” Paige called, and I thrilled at her touch when she laid her hand lightly on my shoulder. “Your father wanted you to show me around since I am going to be working here for a while,” she whispered, “but I just wanted to come anyway.” Her smile was slightly teasing, but mostly curious. I tried to shrug nonchalantly, yet I could almost feel her disbelief in my casual acts.
“Okay, then I get to show you what I do most of the time.” She nodded, almost confused, and I laughed inwardly at the surprise I was sure to see on her face.
We opened the back door, and she cringed as it squeaked, though I barely noticed that. I heard her mention something about ‘oil’. We walked on the small stone pathway that let from tank to tank, grass growing around the edges of it, and sand beyond that. Paige slipped off her shoes, one at a time, then picked them up in her right hand and grabbed my hand with her other hand. I was still wondering if I was in shock after the kiss and imagining this when she tugged me into the sand, giggling. Her toes splayed out confidently as she flitted across the grounds with me, and her chaotic expression made me laugh. Had I really just met her 15 minutes ago? We slowed to a walk, hers more bouncy than mine, and I savored the sweet breeze, bringing in salty air and that sea-like brine I lived for every morning. The sun baked my face, and I could already tell that I would still have the sun-induced hi-lights later in the colder part of the year. I turned to Paige when she let loose her hair, and I was surprised to see the layers fall all the way down her back, sun bleached streaks in hers, too. It was thick, and waved silkily as we trotted in the sand. Finally we approached the first tank.
“Okay, so this tank is my favorite. Now let me show you why,” I murmured close to her ear. Then I broke into a run and hopped up on the edge of the tank. I quickly stripped off my shirt and dove in. When I came up she seemed not to be looking at me, but to be looking at something behind me, a look of joy in her eyes. I smiled because I knew exactly what she was looking at. I dove back under and called with the whistle that was around my neck to the two shapes that were swimming together. They rushed forward to me, and I got lost as I did every time I worked with the two Harbour Porpoises. I could hear their soft clicks under water, and it made me want to burst with joy just looking at their joy. They were such free creatures.
I came up for air and flipped around to explain to her their names, only to find her slipping off her tank top and shorts, in her bathing suit only. My mind went into shock at the sight of her in a bikini. W-o-w. She crawling onto the edge, and dove right in, perfect swan dive all the way. She swam under the water, not at all on top of the water in the free style stroke I swam. She swam peacefully, not in any hurry, and I admired the way her hair flowed out behind her, becoming threads of silk all woven together. She didn’t come up for air once until she got to me.
“Harbour Porpoises! I have never got to work with and porpoises before! Only Dolphins. My boss said that when I got out of college he would think about it, so I moved out here. I’m heading off to be a freshman at DeVry University. Here at Long Beach, too. I thought it was the best place to go, since I love the west coast. Plus, now I can work here without having to worry about driving so far to school. Will you be a sophomore?” She was so happy, just babbling on, and I was so shocked. She would be going to the same school I was. She would be a freshman like I was. Would she be as shocked as I was?
“I… uh… whoa…” I couldn’t say anything. Today was turning out to be the luckiest day ever.
“Justin?! Are you okay?” Paige looked nervous at my blank stares.
“Yes! I’m great! Better than great!” I burst out with. A grin slowly spread across my face and I pulled her thin waste to me and kissed her again with new enthusiasm and I greater hope for a happy ending than I ever had in my life before. I didn’t care if she hated me for going at it a second time. I didn’t care if she hated me for not even knowing anything about her before kissing her like this. I didn’t care, because it all felt just so right for once in my life. Then she wrapped her arms around me neck and pulled closer, like she too needed the comfort that I sought with her. Her lips her slightly parted as were mine, and I breathed in the heady scent that came off her smooth skin. I let my hands play across her hair, loving the way it slid easily through my fingers. Her fingers wound themselves in my hair, and they knotted quickly as she clutched to me, obviously wanting nothing more then what I wanted; to stay welded like this forever. I closed my eyes to enjoy the moment with all of my other senses when something rammed into my back. I flew forward into the water, pushing her down with me. I came up choking, but when I looked around, she wasn’t above the water.
“Oh no. Oh no no no no no! Paige!” I flipped around frantically, glancing through the clear waters of the pool, trying to see if she was on the bottom. She probably hit her head on the shallow floor, and I would never forgive myself if she was hurt. I searched in a mad daze until I heard a scream.
Not a scream of terror, but of joy.
I flipped around to see her hanging on the fin of one of the porpoises. She was being pulled towards me, and I smiled when I saw her face. But my smile faded when I saw the huge gash on her forehead. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that it was stupid to be in the tank without greeting the porpoises. They were so spoiled and needed the attention so badly that they would butt anyone in the back who ignored them. Though I had taught them myself how to pull people on their fins like they were now, they were still dangerous creatures if they wanted to be.
“Paige!” I screamed, and my frantic expression must have scared her a little, because her smile faltered, then fell of her face, as she noticed the warm blood trickling down the side of her face. She let go of the fin to reach up and touch her head and slid into the water. I swam to her swiftly, pushing my arms hard against the waters that pushed me backwards. When I finally got to her, she was pale and trying hard to breathe through her mouth.
“That was fun,” she laughed shakily, still breathing through her mouth. I guessed at that point that she couldn’t stand the smell of blood. It wasn’t doing much for me at the time, either.
“Let’s go inside. Now,” I was firm because I didn’t like the odd color she was turning. She seemed almost green when she nodded.
I was able to swim with her clinging to me back because, though she was easily as tall as me, she was very light. I lifted her gently up on the ledge and swung my legs over. Then I picked her up in my arms and cradled her to my chest like a young child. I was walking swiftly up the path, ignoring the way the hot stones burned my bare feet when she started shaking slightly in my arms, even with the heat. I brushed the hair out of her eyes and she smiled weakly. Her eyes were cloudy but she tried to stay focused.
“It’s my fault. Really, it is. I wanted to try riding them like I saw you yesterday when I came by to get the details on my job. But I didn’t know it was so fast. They just took off, and I couldn’t hold and that’s when I cut my head, when they dove under and I hit the bottom. I’m so sorry,” tears leaked over the rims of her eyes, sorrowful and pained, whether because of the pain or the remorse, I couldn’t tell, but I very gentle kissed the tip of her nose to calm her down.
I really needed to get to know this girl.
I kicked open the door and rushed inside, ignoring the gaping expressions from the two college guys who clocked in a few minutes after we went outside. They were always the ones with new girlfriends every week, and it shocked them to see me with this gorgeous girl. I kept on walking to the beat up fabric couch that we had in the back of the room so we could watch the plasma if ever we got to bored, which was often. Ever so gently I laid her down, and slid the only pillow under her head, gesturing that I would be right back.
George had been hunched over at his desk, typing away, when he glanced up to see why they gasped. His expression went from curious to appalled in record time.
“Justin, oh my gosh, what did you do to her, boy?” Of course, always assume it was my fault. I ignored him and ran to grab a wet cloth to lie on her forehead. I grabbed the clean one off the rack in the bath room and ran it under the warm water. I wrung it out a little and dashed back into the main office. I sat on the couch, trying not to shake it too much, and placed the washcloth over her head, dabbing gently to try and clean off some of the blood. The color wasn’t returning to her cheeks, which bothered me deeply.
“Carson, call the hospital. Tell them we have a head injury and they might need to come here,” My voice was sharp as I whipped orders to one of the college boys. He was the kinder of the two, and I knew he wouldn’t argue. He seemed to keep the girls for longer, whether he was more appealing or appreciated them longer, I didn’t know.
“Justin, I’m getting your dad,” George said, then dashed off before I could stop him. I sighed in defeat at what was sure to be the worst lecture I had ever gotten in my life.
“I don’t need any help… I’m fine, really… See?” Paige lifted herself up gently on the couch, and then swung her legs over the edge. Still holding the wash cloth to her head she turned to me and smiled weakly before taking two steps. On her third step, her face went bone white again and her knees gave way. She sank to the floor and I reached down to pick her up. My face was a mask of pain and worry, seeing as the only girl who had ever shown any interest with me would probably never want to see me again because I had put her life on the line. I cradled her in my arms again, and then tried to set her on the couch. But her fingers that had twined around my neck refused to let go. I reached up with one hand and tried to unlock her fingers, but she refused to unwind them. She still managed to smile slyly, and I sighed in defeat and sat on the couch, with her on my lap. She refused to let go of my neck, afraid I would leave; though that was the last thing I wanted to do.
Her nose was buried in the crook of my neck and my cheek resting in her hair when my father stormed into the room.
“JUSTIN!” he bellowed the second he caught sight of my head resting on her hair, and her face buried in my shoulder blade. It only made things worse. “What did you DO to her? You called the HOSPITAL because of a HEAD INJURY?! WHAT HAPPENED?!?!” His voice was threatening to reach new levels of maximum volume, so I blurted out.
“Nothing, I did nothing. It was that porpoise that you have scared to death out there,” I new it wasn’t true that the porpoises were scared, because I interact with them daily. I just used that card because I knew that they were terrified when he had taken them from the ocean uncalled for. I will always use that against him. Wild animals need to be left to be wild, free. He didn’t understand that, just like he never understood me.
“Justin…?” Paige mumbled into my skin. I turned back to her right as the door opened, with Carson leading in the local doctor, Doc, as we called him. I had visited him last time I broke my arm on the rocks by the beach. He was a good guy, and I knew he could help her.
“Shh, its okay, the doctor is going to take a look at your head and see if you’re okay,” I was talking quietly to her, almost as is she was a child, and she noticed. She looked up and smiled thankfully for my patience.
“Justin, you said head injury on the phone, so what happened?” Good old Doc, right to the injury. So I explained in brief what happened. Paige groaned when I got to the part of her diving under the water and hitting her head on the bottom. I casually left out the part of kissing in the tank.
“Mmmm hmmm, sounds like a possible minor concussion. But I can stitch her up here, if you would like,” he suggested, and I looked at Paige. She wasn’t scared, or was hiding it well if she was, and I questioned her with my eyes. She nodded once, and I nodded at Doc. Yet I about told him not to when he got out the needle he was going to use to stitch up the cut.
“Son, you might want to hop up while I do this,” Doc said, and I tried to slide out from under Paige. Yet her arms were clinging desperately to my neck, and her eyes were a silent begging not to go. I went to reach around my neck and forcefully remove her hands when the symbolism of it caught up with me.
If I really loved her, and wanted her, even if I knew nothing about her, I couldn’t leave her now, despite my fear of needles. But if I made her release me, then I was saying, in a way, that she didn’t mean that much to me.
And she did mean everything to me, this total stranger who made me believe in love at first sight.
So I grasped her closer, pressing her skin against mine, relishing the warmth, and shrugged at Doc. He looked at me with strange eyes, eyes that were finally happy, seeing me happy, like he had never seen me before. I bent down gently and pressed my lips against hers. My dad’s sharp gasp almost made me stop, but I realized that I should be able to make my own decisions. So I pressed my mouth lightly to hers, and she pressed her lips against mine, almost as if she was scared that if she wasn’t strong enough that I would leave. I parted my mouth slightly, once more wishing that this moment could be all that I would ever live with forever. I felt the corners of her mouth turn up slightly and I had to release her for Doc.
I couldn’t bear to see him put stitches in her head, even though I was sure that her bangs, cropped shorter than the rest of her hair, would cover them when he was done. I played with her fingers, lifting them slightly and learning the contours of how they rose and fell. Doc sighed and got up, so I presumed he was done.
“Well, I suggest that she not come to work for the next week,” her eyes flashed with steel and a possible rebellion against doctor’s wishes on that, “and that she take a couple of pain killers tonight. The stitches should actually dissolve after a while, so don’t worry about getting them wet. Be careful next time,” Doc threw one more accusing glare at me, and then walked through the door.
“I am not going to sit on my butt at home for the next week! I am coming tomorrow, I don’t care what that fancy shmancy doctor of yours says…” Paige was rattling on, so I assumed she felt better. I let her sit in my lap as everyone knelt in front of the couch and asked her what had happened and how it felt to have stitches. I listened to her musical voice, reminding me of wind chimes the way it rose and fell in a beautiful tone. Her cheeks were gaining their color back. Her eyes still looked sad, but not as doleful as before. They seemed almost preoccupied from the sadness that hung on her soul, the sadness I had sensed before I had even said a word to her. I wanted to take it all away from her, make her happy, even if I had to jump off a cliff to do it. She shifted slightly in my lap, but not farther away, rather closer to me but still angled so that she could talk to them. She let one of her hands fall from my neck, her fingertips brushing along my still bare chest when she let them fall in a way that made my breath catch and my heart race. She used her hands animatedly, waving them around while she talked. Yet she somehow managed to inconspicuously brush my cheek, or my hair, or my shoulders as she talked. Her eyes never glanced at me, but if I shifted, she did, readjusting like I was her gravitational pull. The way her breath, vanilla and mint all mixed together, tickled my cheek made me want to inhale deeply. She wore no perfume, but the fragrance just emanating from her skin made my senses go mad. Because she was still in a bikini, I could trace down her arms, lightly, so that no one would notice. I slid my hands down the small of her back, angling her again so that no one could see. I relished at the warmth she emitted, and traced my thumb down her spine once more while I spoke.
“Paige,” I whispered with my lips close to her ears. I saw her shiver, but not out of discomfort. “I might need to take you home now. You can show me where you live. I’ll drive your car and then walk home. How about it?” I asked, but my voice sounded more persuasive than just a question.
“That would be great, thank you. And thank you for this… exciting day,” She laughed lightly. She stood up, knees shaking slightly. I bent down to pick her up, but she waved me off, clutching around my shoulder instead. I wrapped my arm around her waste, hugging her to me for support. She waved a casual goodbye as we sauntered clumsily out of the office. Once down the path, she whispered in my ear.
“I think I’ll like it here. As soon as Doc says I can get back to work, we are trying that again. The poor porpoises didn’t know I was such a novice,” This girl, this amazingly reckless yet still timid girl, this girl who drove me crazy, this girl I wanted to know everything about, this girl drove me insane right at that moment; insane in the sense of this-is-first-love-so-I’ll-put-up-with-you-because-I’m-in-love-with-you insane.
Where is your car?” I blew off her comment, inwardly shaking at the thought of having to repeat this whole ordeal.
“Over there,” she pointed casually as she looked sideways at my face. She really was quite tall, taller than most of the other girls I had seen around. She was only about an inch shorter than me, and I think I liked having someone my height.
I followed the line of her finger and stopped momentarily. Why was I not surprised that she drove a convertible? And not just any convertible, but a BMW M3 convertible, top of the line. I continued on down the sandy path towards the lot, but not before she misread my pause.
“I know, it is kinda shabby, but I like it,” she mumbled defensively. Shabby? Did she say shabby? Good grief, this girl’s parents must be money bags.
“Not shabby at all. Plus, at least your car runs. Mine is still stuck at a garage. Plus, I like the red.” I was teasing a little, but I really did like the color.
“You’re teasing me. You don’t like it, do you?” She sounded playfully hurt. I tapped her lightly on the nose with my finger before opening the passenger side door. She looked slightly disgruntled that I got to drive, but I ignored her. Walking casually around the front of the car, I wondered if this would be some of the last time we would have to talk about what happened today. And I wasn’t talking about her head injury. My fingers hesitated to open the door, afraid of the certain banishment I was going to get from her. I was afraid of rejection, and that was why I had never tried harder to get a girl. I didn’t want to be turned away.
I opened the door anyway.
I sat down quietly and then shut the door. Then all of a sudden she was on top of me, kissing me so roughly that I gasped. Her mouth was moving in earnest on mine, and her hands clutched the side of my face as if they could hold me there if I didn’t want to be there. But I did want to be there. I was just confused as to why she was suddenly passionate about the way she kissed; before it had been gentle, yet this was rough and desperate to make me understand. Yet I didn’t quite understand, especially when I felt salty tears slide from her cheeks onto mine, and her body being taken over by wracking sobs as she clung to me. I knew then that she wasn’t lying about her first kiss, because the way she acted as if she needed this to go on forever was completely understood, understood by me, the novice at relationships. I took the side of her face in my hands and lifted it gently up so that I could see why she was crying. Silent tears slid down her body as sobs continued to shake her slender frame. Through her sobs she managed to choke out words that made everything clear.
“I just thought… you were the one… as soon as I looked at you… I wanted to touch your face… then you kissed me… but I was sure… after you saw how stupid I was… in the tanks… that you… wouldn’t… want… me…” her fears, irrational as they were, took over once again and she buried her face in my chest. I clutched her hair and pressed my lips to it, and held her tightly.
“I never believed in love at first sight until today,” I whispered to her as I pulled her up to cradle next to my neck, “but you made me believe. You made me believe, you, this complete stranger, made me believe that I could find someone who would understand. And I will never give up on that. That rush of my blood hot through my veins because of you will never go away, even if you do. For the only way I will leave you is if you don’t want me anymore.” My voice was confident at the end, and she looked up at me with tears still in her eyes. Her lips brushed along my neck, up my chin, until she found my lips. It was ever so light, the way she brushed against my mouth. Like a butterfly, so elegant yet fragile.
“We might want to get you home now,” I suggested quietly, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Yup, that would be a good thing,” she said in a still shaky voice. I lifted her up gently, trying to reposition myself as I did so. When she had thrown herself on top of me, we had slid lower in the seat until her foot had hit the reclining button and it had slid back. She was practically lying on top of me. I slid her next to me, yanked up the seat, and the pulled her up on my lap delicately. I could drive like that, surely. She looked over her shoulder in question, and snuggled closer when I smiled at her. Her cheek was pressed against mine when I pulled out of the lot.
“So, tell me about yourself,” I said conversationally. I slid to the far left of the seat and let her slide down to the right since she was thing enough. Turning the steering wheel would be a problem if I didn’t.

I know this isnt the right category but this is where people that could help me are. Decorate inside my car?

I realize this is not the right category but this is where alot of creative people are and i really couldnt find a good category for it anyway
also there are a bunch of other teenaged girls in this category

How can i make the inside of my car my own? I want to decorate it so it has personality.?
Okay so i love my car its a red 97 Pontiac grand prix and im paying for it out the yin yang! but the inside is boring and very unlike me. I am sharing a room with my six year old sister (im 16) and my car is the only place i can call my own! so i want it to show some dazzle!
so far ive pretty much got the front of the car decorated but i also want the back seat decorated.

in the front ive got
On the rear view mirror-
rainbow smell good thing (i realize that’s not wat its really called)
bead necklaces
fuzzy handcuffs (my friend put them there and doesn’t have a key)
sunglasses

matchingg stearing wheel cover, seat belt shoulder pad, and cd holder

since i don’t have much money i didn’t want to waste it on getting seat covers so on my seats i put tank tops on them then my friends and i went even further and put hats and scarfs on then to (we named them Thelma and Louise)

but i have nothing for the back

any suggestions?
and if anything what did you do to decorate your car?
ps i dont want to spend much money at all
i have 400 dollars worth of bills a month that im paying for my self

thanks in advance for any ones help

1994 Firebird interior?

ok i just bought a 1994 Pontiac Firebird. i want to turn the whole inside black and red. i don’t want to use paint or anything like that. i need help finding where to buy the whole car interior. things like the door inside. dashboard. gauges. seat covers. thanks in advance

I want to add leather seats to my 2009 jeep patriot what would be the cheapest option? Thanks alot?

I have a 2009 Jeep Patriot with fabric seats. i want to add leather maybe through a cover or replacement seats but new seats are very expensive. I want it to have a factory look and not sag like some covers do. I dont mind if its vinyl as long as i can use the heated seats thanks in advance.

Jeep upholstry question.?

I have a 2002 Jeep Grand Cherokee Limited. I want to know if it is possible for me to put my heated seat equipment in a cloth seat cover. I really don’t like the leather seats that are in it now but I really appreciate the comfort of the heated seats on a cold winter morning. Is this do-able? Thanks in advance.

Is it legal to have passengers in a coverd truck bed in Georgia?

i have an older 2 door bronco with a removable truck bed cover( makes the truck look like an suv) but i have no passenger seats in the bed of course. is it legal for people to sin in the closed bed? ive been hearing, at least for normal trucks, that it is legal if there are no more seats available. do cops care??

Thanks in advance!
lol yes please excuse my incorrect spelling but what i mean is…

Do you think most Georgia cops would pull me over for just having passengers in the back? It might not be technically legal but do you think cops honestly care? I’ve passed multiple cops with people in the back and either they don’t seem to notice or care. Just asking to stay on the safe side… i just dont want any trouble with the police

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