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"No One Writes Letters Anymore."

Chapter 3
-1 Month Later-

I haven’t seen Donovan in a little over a month and I’m overall very pleased by this. I feel Steven knows that my patience with him and his son is skating on thin ice, so he gratefully hasn’t invited him to anymore of our dinner and or lunch dates as a new ‘family’.

But he obviously hasn’t fully understood my patience with Donovan, because I just got the news that Steven said yes -- Donovan’s moving in. I honestly can’t believe this. He’s just going to suck his dad up of his money. Just going to use him and whether Steven annoys the hell out of me or not, it’s wrong.

I sigh sadly as my day is getting even worse as I’m on my way to do what I unfortunately have to do -- quit my job.

Steven lives about fifteen miles away from us and that means not only do I have to move out of the home I’ve become comfortably attached to, but I now also have to leave my job behind and my school. This blows a lot of dicks if anyone asks me. It’s not like I have friends I’m leaving behind, cause I don’t, but this is where I’ve been and it’s where I know.

I sag my shoulders and walk into the small movie shop and wave to the other cashier besides me. He’s been my coworker and friend for two years. I was a freshman when I got this job.

“Hey, Maxy,” I mutter and he grins wolfishly at me.

“Hey Zar, what’s up? You’re not scheduled to work today beautiful.” He twirls a DVD case in his skilled and ink printed hands.

I blush, “Yeah I know, but I actually have some lame ass news... I’m moving.” I say sadly and Max stops twirling the case and actually frowns. I can’t believe a horrible frown is marring his gorgeous face. I drop my face towards the ground and scratch my arm, “My mom’s getting remarried like I told you and we’re moving as I told you, but I didn’t realize he lived fifteen miles away and that I have to switch school districts and quit my job, so yeah.” I mumble, feeling so damn lame.

Like, fuck! Who does these things? Oh right, sixteen year old girls who don’t have a say in their life apparently.

I look up to see Max walking from behind the counter and coming towards me. He has chains hanging from his belt buckles and some really hot combat boots on. Max is gorgeous and if I ever tried anything with him, I’d be one lucky dead bitch as my mom would kill me. Max gazes down at me with disappointed hazel eyes.

“Seriously Zar... This fucking sucks.” He murmurs.

I groan, “I know! My mom’s too far up Steven’s wallet to see how truly unhappy I am, but I won’t just be truly unhappy -- I’ll also be truly broke and tortured.” I huff and he finally smiles at me.

“This has to do with the step-dads ass of a son?” He asks.

I smile, “Yes. He’s horrible, totally puts me off older guys.” I grunt and then about faint as Max grins cutely.

“Even me?” He wiggles his brows and I laugh loudly. I have to cover my mouth to calm down and when I do, I still have the giggles.

“Don’t joke, Maximus. You’re nineteen and my mom will fucking slaughter me, but you know I think you’re hot.” I reassure and he looks pleased as always.

“Zar, come on... No one has to know. Can I at least have your address to write to you?” He asks and I snort.

“Write letters? Just text me, no one writes letters anymore.” I say in disapproval, but he just reaches over the counter for a business card and hands it to me with the blank side facing up.

“Exactly, now get your pretty little hand to write the address.” He waits patiently for me and I crack a small smile, get out my phone and sigh loudly as I open the text that Steven sent me and my mom of the address so we could forward our mail. I snatch the card from Max and shove him aside playfully, then start copying the address down from my phone and onto the card with a dull blue pen. Once I finish, Max snatches it from the counter, kisses it and places it in the pocket of his noisy jeans, “Thanks, Zar. I look forward to writing you.” He winks.

And I’m pretty sure I just pissed myself.


“I think you’re really going to enjoy it at my house, Zaria. I feel like the closer we will be towards each other, the better we can learn to start understanding one another.” Steven grunts as he lifts one of the heavy boxes in my room. I sadly follow after him with a few bags and decide that I can’t give him the silent treatment forever.

“Maybe, we’ll have to see,” I say softly and then smile a little. I hate the fact that Steven’s actually okay when he’s not laced up in his money. Like right now he’s dressed up in an old t-shirt, some ripped up jeans, rundown gym shoes and his black hair is captured in a baseball cap. See, for once he looks like the type of person I want for my mother -- not some guy who tries too hard to win her over with dollar bills and all of that extra shit.

We get downstairs of the completely empty house and I feel nervous. I know my mother said in two months we’ll be out of this house, but it’s pretty empty right now and there’s not much left in here for us to get rid of besides the furniture, which my mom might just put up in storage, but I have a bad feeling about some things going on today...

Steven walks outside of the house with my box full of items from my room and sets it in the back of the U-haul van he rented for the day. I stop behind him as he places the box inside, then he turns around and smiles at me, taking the bags from my hands, “You know, I know you don’t like Donovan, so I want to apologize in advance, but I had no one else to help me out on such a late notice and I can’t lift all of that furniture in the house by myself.” He looks guilty and I squint an eye, but then advert them to the side of the street where a dark blue convertible with the top up parks smoothly. I slump my shoulders as the person gets out, then I look up at Steven,

“You hate me.” I point out and ignore Donovan coming up our driveway. Steven gives me a disapproving look, but says nothing as he turns to his son and smiles.

“Donovan thanks for helping out. There’s just a few couches and mattresses to move and that’s it.” He says and I scowl at Donovan as he grunts in approval. He places his phone in his ratty short pockets, then looks down at me and I roll my eyes. Donovan just smirks and does what his dad tells him to do.

“How about you help me take the couches and put them in the moving truck.” He nods across the street where the truck is and Donovan nods. Steven removes his baseball cap and scratches his black hair, “Alright, um, Zaria -- cool down while we get the couches out of the way and then you can show Donovan to your room and help him move the mattress. Alright? Great!” He answers himself and I watch him walk inside the house. I sigh heavily and start after him, but then suddenly fall forward and shriek as I’m tripped.

I slam onto the ground and hiss as my knees start to sting from probably the multiple scrapes I just gave myself. Looking up, Steven is walking into the house unaware of what just happened and I turn over slowly and examine my slightly bleeding knees and palms. Deep chuckling causes me to look upwards and I scowl as Donovan walks past me, “You should watch your step, brat.” He grins and then walks forward, disappearing into my house.

Ugh, what an asshole. What an attractive asshole. Sighing gently, I stand up and wince as my palms and kneecaps are throbbing, then walk into the house achingly. Mom comes from around the corner and gasps, “Oh Zara! What happened sweetheart?” She quickly rushes forward with a napkin and starts brushing away gravel from the scrapes.

Hm, to be a tattle-telling brat or to keep quiet and get him back?

“I just tripped and fell mom. No pain no gain.” I say and head to the bathroom down the front hall. Once inside, I start looking around, but am not finding what I’m looking for. I sigh in irritation, “MOM!? WHERE’S THE BAND-AIDS!?” I shout, opening and closing the empty cabinets. She doesn’t respond like I thought she would, so I walk out of the bathroom and look around. I lean outside the front door and watch Donovan shove my mothers mattress into the moving truck across the street. Dammit, asshole or not he’s still really hot. Especially that damn signature mohawk.

I glance down as his calf muscles are flexing as he stretches up farther to shove the mattress into the truck more, then I quickly look away and retreat back inside the house as he starts to walk away from the truck. I slowly walk up the stairs and then frown as I hear faint giggles. I know snooping is not a good thing, but Zara doesn’t hear suspicious or see suspicious shit going on without investigating. I walk down the hall and stop as I get a glance inside my mothers room to see Steven and her trapped up against a wall -- smooching.

“Ah fuck.” I grumble in disgust, then turn around and go back to my room. I feel rage shock through me though as Donovan’s in my room and has my phone clutched tightly in his hand while he just calmly scrolls through it. He glances up and then smirks, “Oh, hey brat -- wow, you have no fucking friends. Except for this Maxy kid.” He mumbles and I charge over to him and reach for my phone.

My cheeks are burning, “Give that back you bastard!” I shriek and reach up higher as he holds it higher and higher each time I reach. His chuckle is infuriating.

“Sure thing, brat.” He says and then drops it. I gasp as it hits the wood flooring and my case cracks. I scramble to my knees and inspect my phone, fuming as the screen is now cracked in the left corner. Donovan’s laugh circulates more around my empty room.

“Wow, your case fucking sucks, brat.” He smirks and I just stand up and make a move to slap him, but Steven’s voice startles me.

“Alright, let’s move this mattress you two. Me and your mother talked it out, Zaria. You guys are moving in tonight. We’re going to just move in all your stuff all day tomorrow.” He says and I sigh softly. That can’t be too bad, it’s not like Donovan’s already moved in. I stare at my phone in sadness and Steven notices, “Uh oh, what’s wrong, Zaria?” He walks up to me.

I frown, “My phone fell from my pocket and broke.” I say, not daring to be labeled as a telltale and a brat. No, not in a million years will I give Donovan that much satisfaction. Steven gently takes my screen and smiles slightly,

“Can you live without this for a day or two? I can take it with me to work and get you a brand new one if you’d like.” He offers and I feel a fraction happier.

“Please. Thank you so much, Steven.” I murmur and he grins, shuts my phone off and slips it in his pocket.

“No problem, now you and Don get this mattress outside and we can get going.” He grins and after he leaves my room, I whirl around and glare at a now howling Donovan. Yeah, he’s howling with laughter alright.

“Wow, you actually kept your mouth shut, brat. I’m impressed. I half expected you to stomp your foot, point a finger and rat me out.” He shakes his head and walks around me, picking up an end of my mattress. I grudgingly go to the other end and nearly trip and fall again as he just starts walking. I follow him with my end and move the mattress to fit through the door, then we get into the hall...

And he starts to bitch.

“Goddamn, lift it higher you brat -- you’re making me do all the work!”

“Well, I’m sorry your arms are longer than mine. I’m trying!”

“Well try harder!” He growls and I grit my teeth. We get to the stairs and he starts to go down, but makes a smartass comment, “Jeez, see you’re better at going down with this thing, brat. You know what they say about girls who are better going down.” He laughs really loud.

I smirk and halt on the top step, “I do know what they say. They say we’re bolder.” I snap and then push on the mattress. Donovan loses his balance and tumbles down on his feet for a half a second before he falls on his ass and rolls down the stairs. I clutch my stomach and laugh the hardest since this whole situation started, and then slowly make my way towards the bottom of the stairs. Donovan groans in pain and I go to walk past him, but his hand grips my ankle harshly.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, brat.” He growls and I scream as he pulls me down and throws the mattress off of him. It falls onto me and he sets on top of it and on me, trapping me under it and suffocating me.

“Get off!” I cry muffled and kick my legs. Somehow the mattress gets sideways and I get my leg out and kick him where the sun definitely doesn’t shine and shouldn’t shine.

“Fuck!” Donovan splutters and I push the mattress off of me and crawl from under it and away. My face is hot and I watch as Donovan is now curled up under it, clutching his balls. He looks up at me, “You’re dead, brat, you just wait until I move in. You’re so fucking dead.” He snarls.

I breathe heavily, “We’ll see about that, asshole.” I pant and then leave him with the mattress and walk outside. Steven and my mom look over from the moving van and mom frowns.

“Where’s Donovan?” She asks while looking behind me at the house. What I want to say is, ‘taking a breather for the nut shot he just received’, but I keep it clean.

“He’s handling it.” I simply say and walk over to her and Steven. I secretly am protecting myself. I look up as a mattress flops out the front door and Donovan’s face is red with rage. His eyes are an exotic wild blue and he’s glaring so hard at me I can actually feel my skin tingling. Holy shit, maybe he’s trying to explode me and since he’s some sort of mythical creature, it’s kind of working.

He finally gets the mattress into the truck across the street, then comes walking back; and it’s now seeing him without the mattress in front of him, that I notice he’s limping. Hmph, that’s what happens when he messes with a brat.

Steven grins at all of us, “This was great teamwork and I’m excited for the summer that will be having us all together under one roof. It’s going to be magical and a great thing for us all. Fresh starts and happy beginnings I’d say, right Janine?” He looks at my mom and she smiles up at him nodding and blushing.

I look at Donovan and manage to smile sweetly, “I agree Steven. To new beginnings.” I say and Donovan just glares menacingly. Oh how much he probably wants to choke the shit out of me right now, but he’s refraining from doing so as his hands are clenching themselves into fists.

Finally, Steven climbs into the van, Donovan retreats back to his car and me and mom climb into our car, then we follow Steven and Donovan for the entire fifteen miles. About ten minutes into the ride and somewhere in the middle of a soothing Ed Sheeran song, I find myself dozing off while dreaming of murderous exotic blue eyes and letters that no one ever writes.

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