Chapter Two

Tripp lay on the living room sofa, trying to escape the heat. The air conditioner guy still hadn't come. It felt like he was living in a fucking furnace.

"Its gunna be a hot one today folks," The weatherman, always chipper, chirped from the TV.

"No shit," Tripp said out loud, to the ceiling. He was on his back, one arm over his forehead. He had even taken off his shirt, leaving him in just a pair of cargo shirts that slipped low on his slim hips.

He heard his mother talking from the kitchen. The bitch had already made friends. She had found her group of gossiping know-it-alls who like to stick their not so natural noses in everyone else's business.

"Oh I know, Sherry. Just horrible. Of course! Carol's sleeping with her husband's partner. In the firm, yes. Can you believe it? Well we all knew she would end up doing something like this. She just has that way about her."

Tripp knew who Carol was. Young, blonde, leggy. And one of his mother's new best friends. Or so he thought.

"Of course, of course! Come right over! That would be wonderful!" His mother chirped. Everyone's chirping today. What are they? Fucking birds, I guess.

"Oh, well, he's a teenage boy. You know how they are. Difficult, yes. At least he isn't a girl! That would horrible. Girls are so much more difficult. But he'll be fine, once he gets used to everything."

Tripp always hated when his parents talked about him when he so obviously could here. It wasn't like he was freaking deaf. He always passed his hearing tests. Not like it actually mattered to his mother. Hell, she probably wanted him to hear her. He could imagine her smirking at the wall that separated the rooms.

He wiped off the sweat that was forming on his chest. He hated the summer. Absolutely hated it. Heat was something he had never been able to deal with. He just always felt so uncomfortable. Winter and fall were better. After all, that was when basketball season was. And it was cold. Nice and cold.

A car raced down the street. But, it stopped. Somewhere in the vicinity of his mailbox. He could just tell. And sure enough, a second later, a series of honks pierced through the air. It was a weird honk. High pitched and squealy. Like a dying pig or something.

With a grunt, he lifted his upper body to peer over the back of the couch and out the windows that lined the front of the house. Then he groaned and let his body fall back. A girl standing in front of an old, yellow, beat up Volkswagen beetle.

Another honk. And then another. Honk honk honk. She kept it up.

"Jesus Christ," He mumbled and got up, limbs sticking, to go to the front door. He threw it open and stalked down the front walk.

"What the fuck do you want?" He spat, standing in front of her. "Are you trying to annoy the crap outta me?"

She smirked slowly, sliding her sunglasses, Risky Business style ones, down her nose. Her eyes, those pretty creepy ones, slid down his neck, a blush staining her cheeks.

"What's your problem?" He hissed, moving his hand to grab the end of his shirt like he always did when he was pissed off, annoyed, and sweating like a pig. But his hands met bare skin. Oh.

Now, it wasn't like he was one of those fat kids. He was in shape. Pretty damn good shape, if you asked him. He didn't have a six pack or anything. But his stomach, pecks, and arms were all nicely defined and…buff. Getting in shape for basketball season was brutal. But well worth it, by the glazed look in Winnie's eyes.

She shook her wrist fiercely. The metal clanging together made his ears ring.

"Well," She finally said, tearing her eyes away from his lower stomach. "You workout?"

He smirked a little. "Yeah. Something like that."

She nodded, a blush crawling up her neck while she looked over his shoulder. "Right. That's…nice."

Nice. She looked nice. Well, if you liked that weird sort of thing. This girl must have had multiple personalities. One day she's wearing a freaking dress with a dragon on it, and the next she looks like a fifties house wife? The dress had cherries on it. And she wore little white gloves. Then he looked down. Combat boots.

"Come on. Let's go." She said.

"What? How did you even find out where I live?"

She waved her hand in the air. "This is the only house that was for sale in the last couple of months. Now let's go grumpy."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," He hissed. "You're fucking insane."

"I might be insane," She said and walked slowly around the car. "But I have air conditioning."

He faltered. Air conditioning. God. That was so tempting.

She put her hand on the roof of the car before getting into the drivers seat, cocked an eyebrow, and said, "You coming?"

He could just imagine the cold air caressing his skin, soaking through his clothes…

"Just let me get a shirt," He mumbled and went back into the house.

"Honey? Who's that girl outside?" His mother called as he ran up the stairs.

"Someone," He called back.

"Well I know it's someone," She said as he came back down, tugging a tee shirt over his head. "There are a lot of someone's in the world."

"So what difference does one someone make?" He shot back.

She sighed. "Are you going somewhere? With this girl?"

"Yeah." He said and walked to the door.

"Well, where? I need to know these things. I'm your mother."

"Good for you," He said, his voice a snarl, before he slammed the door behind him.

"What was that all about?" Winnie asked when he got in her car and angrily slammed the door.

He stabbed his seatbelt into the holder. "My fucking mother."

Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel and she didn't say anything. Which confused him. She always seemed to have something to say. But he didn't push it. Frankly, he didn't give a shit why she suddenly seemed upset. He was definitely not the type of guy to lend his shoulder to girls to cry on.

"Where are you taking me?" He asked instead.

She looked at him for a second and laughed. "Relax. I'm not going to take you to an empty field and rape you with a tree branch." Tripp made a face. "We're just going to mi casa."

"Oh," Tripp mumbled and fiddled with zipper of one of his pockets.

They rode mostly in silence. Well, not complete silence. Winnie would talk. Randomly. One minute she'd say something about some new band she listened to, and the next she'd be talking about the amazing mysteries of trees. Like he said before, she was completely bizarre.

"I need a smoke," She said to herself as she slowed to a stop at a red light.

She leaned over to his side of the car and he froze. Never in his life had a girl, a hot girl, been so close to him. She rummaged through the glove compartment. Her breasts pressed against his arm. Her skin was so warm. She smelled like cigarettes and…he leaned his face closer to the top of her head, which brushed against his Adam's apple. Lilies. Her hair smelled like flowers.

"Oh yeah." She said and straightened up. A frown came across his lips. He was beginning to enjoy her being so close. "I'm so good. Found the smokes." She struggled to get one out, and when she did, stuck it between her lips, then tipped the pack to him. "Want one?"

"Um…no." He shook his head and looked out the window.

"Good. These things are cancer sticks." She said and pressed on the gas, even though the light was still red.

He turned to her. "Then why do you smoke?"

"Because…" She trailed off and chewed her bottom lip. "Just because." If her hair wasn't back in a severe ponytail, she'd probably be tugging on the ends like crazy.

"Christ, where do you live?" He groaned twenty minutes later. The trees were getting thicker and he felt like he was in a fucking rain forest. Maybe she really was taking him to an empty field…

"Well, sor-ry if I don't live where you want me to live," She huffed. "Sor-ry that we all can't live in a nice house right in town."

"Whatever," He mumbled and crossed his arms over his chest. It was amazing how she could make him like her one minute, make him horny another, and then turn around and be the most obnoxious person on the planet.

"Alright. We're here," She said and hit the brake, throwing Tripp forward. "Happy now?"

He gaped as he looked out of the window. The house was fucking huge. It looked like one of those places you'd see down in the south, with the columns and the balconies. He half expected to see trees dripping with moss on the side of the house. But there wasn't. In its place were flowers and cherry blossoms, bushes and topiaries.

"Jesus Tripp. It's just a house. You're acting like you're watching porn." Winnie said and got out of the car.

He slowly followed. The house was seriously intimidating. "You never told me you're rich," He said once she caught up with her.

She didn't answer as she walked up the steps to the front door. Only when she had her hand on the door handle did she say anything. She turned to him, smirk in place and said, "I'm not. My nana is."

"Nana?" He asked and followed her in the door.

"Yeah, idiot," She called over her shoulder, crossing the gigantic marble foyer. "I live with my grandma. Nana."

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "How am I supposed to know that? I'm not a fucking physic."

"Nana hates swearing. So cut it out," She told him before strolling through a doorway.

"Hiya Nana," She said and moved over to where an old woman sat on a couch, sipping something out of a small china cup.

The woman handed Winnie a plate of something. "Here. You're favorite. Double chocolate chunk."

Winnie smiled before plopping down onto another sofa, placed the platter on her stomach, and shoved a cookie in her mouth. She looked like a fucking pig.

"Winifred, what did I say about those boots on my furniture?" The older woman scolded.

"Sorry," Winnie said through a mouthful of cookie, moving her feet so her legs hung off the edge of the couch. "Better?"

The older woman sighed, shook her head, and then noticed Tripp.

"Oh!" She exclaimed. "And who are you?"

Tripp shuffled nervously. "Uh…Tripp Sampson. Ma'am."

The old woman turned her attention back to Winnie. "Winifred! You're being extremely rude. You don't just invite someone over and let them introduce themselves."

"Sorry," Winnie said again. "Well, Tripp, this is my Nana. Nana, this is Tripp Sampson. New kid on the block. He moved into the Jeffrey's old place."

"Oh! So you're the new family. It's very nice to meet you Tripp," She said and extended her hand.

Tripp crossed the room and they shook hands. "Uh, nice to meet you too…"

"Just call me Penny," She said and smiled kindly. He tried to smile back, but it came out as the same old twisted smile and he saw hers fade a little bit. He could tell that she had been hot back in the day. Her skin was only slightly wrinkled. She had long white hair that was twisted into a bun at the back of her hair. Winnie had her eyes.

Winnie suddenly sat up. "Oh shit! I'll be right back." She ran out of the room and called back, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, you crazy kids."

Tripp blushed and moved to sit down on the couch Winnie had been sitting on.

"Don't pay attention to her," Penny said and slid her cup onto the coffee table. "She's quite eccentric. If you haven't noticed."

Tripp laughed shortly. "I noticed."

"She's going to go clean her room," She continued. "It is an absolute pig sty. Panties and paint tubes and cigarette butts all over the floor. The girl has absolutely no organizational skills."

Tripp stayed silent, and Penny leaned her elbows on her knees.

"But she's the only thing that keeps me going. I'm old Tripp. And I feel it. But Winifred…she makes me feel young again. I have to feel young, chasing her around. That girl means everything to me. Without her…I just wouldn't be the same. She's my everything." Her face was stern. Tripp grew uncomfortable. She sure was one weird old lady. Why would she even say something like that to him? It wasn't like…

"O-Oh. We…we aren't," Tripp stuttered, but Winnie saved him from the embarrassment.

She slide passed the doorway. "Come on Tripp! Let's go up to my room."

He didn't need any more encouragement.

"Winifred!" Penny called after them. "Remember that…"

Winnie interrupted her. "Relax. We, Tripp and I, aren't like that. Don't worry."

"What was that about?" Tripp mumbled to her as they walked up the large staircase and down a wide hallway.

"That?" Winnie breezily waved her hand in the air. "She thinks I'm bringing you up here to fuck."

"W-What?" Tripp stuttered and followed her into a room.

She closed the door behind him and pressed herself against his back. Her breath was hot on his neck. "Unless you want to…"

She was so warm. It was intoxicating. He had never tried any type of drugs, but he was sure it would feel similar to how her skin against his made him feel. Flames were licking up his feet, legs, all the way to the top of his head. And he knew she did it on purpose.

"No?" She sighed. "Too bad." She moved away from him and stood with her hands on her hips. "I really needed a good, quick, fuck." She smirked before turning away, walking to the other side of her room.

Her room was massive. But that wasn't what caught Tripp's attention. It was all the paintings. The walls were covered. With everything from fine art to posters. He saw landscapes. Portraits. Old horror movie posters. Band posters. Abstract art. One wall was completely filled with paintings of ballerinas.

"I used to dance," She said when she saw where he was looking.

"Used to," He repeated.

"Yeah. Used to."

Another section caught his eye. Nude women. He coughed uncomfortably and felt his ears flame. He shook his hair out to cover it.

"I'm not a lesbian." She gestured to the wall of naked women. "I just think that the female form is so beautiful. There's just something about it that is…life. You know? Sure, guys are hot. But women…we're beautiful. You guys got the short end of the stick."

He focused his eyes on the floor.

"Oh come on," She laughed. "Like you've never seen a naked girl before." He stared at her.

"No!" She gasped. "You mean…you're a virgin?"

"Yes. And thanks for bringing it up," He said and scowled. "Why is that so hard to believe anyway?"

"Tripp. Seriously? I mean…you're a pretty boy. I just assumed that girls would be all over you like some dogs in heat."

"Well you shouldn't assume," He snapped at her.

"Jeez. Don't get your panties in a twist," She said and flopped down onto her bed. "You look like you've broken plenty of hearts." She rolled over onto her back, ponytail brushing the floor and said in a breathy voice, "Oh Tripp! Don't leave me Tripp! I love you Tripp!"

"Shut up," He mumbled.

Another gasp. "You mean…you've never had a girlfriend? Never ever?"

He growled and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. Girls were always a touchy subject for him. They never really flocked to him. He just wasn't…charismatic. Aubrey Williams, a girl back in Dallas, had told him he was too cold. He wasn't a nice person. But it sure would be great if they were friends. That was all he was to girls. A friend. Sometimes something even lower. An acquaintance. Back in Dallas, he was the ticket to Mac. It was always Mac.

He never had a girlfriend. Not a real one, anyway. Back in middle school he had plenty of 'girlfriends'. He would go up to them, ask "Do you wanna go out with me?" walk away, and not talk to ever again. He kissed a couple of them. Diana and Wendy and Teresa. That was all. Just a ten second kiss. With Wendy, he had poked his tongue into her mouth and she shoved him away.

"How old are you?" Winnie asked, sitting up.

He looked back to her. "Seventeen."

She nodded. "Cool beans. So am I."

"Well woop-dee-fucking-do." He muttered

"You swear too much."

"Thanks mother."

"And you're sarcastic a lot."

"Good golly gosh."

"I like you Tripp Sampson."

He opened his mouth to say something, but after actually processing what she said, slammed it shut. She likes him? What kind of crap is that?

"You're different. I can tell. Real. No one in this fucking town is real. I can't stand it sometimes." She said and stared at him, waiting for him to respond.

He only managed a nod.

She shrugged, seemingly unfazed but his lack of interest, and walked over to where a bunch of easels were set up. She stood staring at a blank one.

"Did you like the picture?"

Tripp groaned. "Please no."

"So…what do you think? About the picture."

"I think you're an asshole," He mumbled. She smiled at him and his breathing faltered. He thought that she should smile more. It was way better then that smirk.

She took a step closer to him, looking at his face. Up, down, up, side, side. What was she doing? Her hand reached up and brushed a piece of hair that fell into his eyes. Pursed her lips.

"I think I made your nose too big," She said finally, stepping back.

He blinked. "Um…what?"

"In the picture you dope! I made your nose a little too wide I think…"

"How can you remember?"

She tugged on her hair. "Photo graphic memory."

"That's nice."

"It helps." She said simply and went back to the canvas. After a little while, she said, "I want to paint you."

He shook his head. "No way."

"Why not?"

He exhaled through his nose and combed his fingers through his hair. "Just…because."

"That's not a real answer."

He sighed angrily. "That's what you said when I asked you why you smoke."

"That was different."

"Was not."

"Was too."

"Was not."

"Was too."

"Was not."

"Was not."

"That's not going to work on me," He said smugly.

She smiled and bit her lip, looking at him sideways. "I really do like you, you know."

"I heard."

"Do you like me?"

"No."

She laughed. "See what I mean? You're real."

"Well that's what it said on the box I came."

"And funny," She said. "Real funny."

"Funny and real. I'm such a catch," He said dryly and backed slowly to the door.

"Where are you going?" She said, smirking. "You gunna walk home?"

He shrugged. "If I have to."

"Come on now," She replied and walked over to him, grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the room. "Just stay a little bit. I'll just get changed and then I'll drive you home, alright?"

"Fine," He huffed and crossed his arms over his stomach.

"Good boy," She teased and pat his head. "I'll be a second."

Then she did something he thought he'd never witness in his life. She turned her back to him, unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. Well. Hellooo Winnie.

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A/N- Yes, Tripp is perverted. And yes, he swears a lot, sometimes unnecessarily. And yes, he is a jerk. But he is a guy. This isn't meant to be a lighthearted story, so things will get heavier and more heart wrenching. After all, that's what I do best. I just like it that its so much more care free, in the beginning.

Reviews are really, really nice. So please please review.