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ASPYN
The plane has barely hit the tarmac and I can feel the heat and the smell of the humid, swampy air, but maybe that’s just my mind playing tricks on me.
Needless to say, Tara isn’t happy not knowing where I’m going. I feel weird lying to my best friend, but to be honest, I’m not minding this whole idea of being incognito. It’s kind of exciting, now that I have my head wrapped around it.
Remembering the shitstorm a few weeks ago with the show, and everyone wanting me to do interviews to find out what really went on, has me feeling nauseous all over again.
I don’t want to rehash it. And I definitely don’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it on national television.
Lisa is a goddamn piece of shit and Dylan is a liar who I’m glad to see the back end of. I always fall for the bad boys. I don’t know what the fuck it is about my nature that makes me think I can fix people. I see a man in a suit with a pair of pretty eyes and I’m ga-ga. No matter his background or financial status, or even his last name. I’m a sucker for a pretty face, what can I say?
Maybe being around bikers will be a good thing. They’re all old guys who are probably slobs who won’t give two shits about me being there. Hopefully, that’ll mean I get to do what I want. My dad is a little over the top with his rules.
That’s just the way it is, but he also has to understand that I’m a grown woman and I’m capable of making my own decisions. He just doesn’t realize that. I’m sure he still sees me as a twelve-year old with pigtails.
We pile off the plane and I head toward the baggage claim.
It’s gonna be nice and awkward, but I have to put those thoughts aside. I’m only here for a few weeks, I hope, and in that short time it won’t be long enough to form any kind of relationship with anyone. Not that I’d want to, but surely there are women in the motorcycle club?
I get visions of biker clad broads with garish makeup and wild hair and I giggle to myself. I mean, I’m not a snob, I’ll pretty much talk to anyone. I don’t judge, but the idea of me fitting into the NOLA Rebels MC is kinda laughable.
Still, I’m up for anything that gets me out of the house.
Maybe my dad will have bigger ideas and send me back on the first flight out tomorrow. Still. He trusts Cash Hudson and that says a lot. I’ve never met the man, but I know they go way back, and for dad to put my life in another person's hands is telling.
My dad is many things, even been called a tyrant by some, but I know he loves me. His way of showing me is wrapping me in cotton wool and sending me off to New Orleans to hide.
I have to admit, none of this sits well with me. I’ve had that awful feeling in the pit of my stomach for weeks, and I’m still coming to terms with what Dylan did.I’m sure my dad’s keeping things from me about the stalker.
That’s what you get for opening your heart. What a goddamn joke.
Now I’m the poor little rich girl who got cheated on. I haven’t even gone online to see what people are saying but Tara has told me it’s a mixed bag of emotions ranging from:
She’s a sad little rich girl, probably making it up for publicity.
He’s too hot for her anyway. I heard she sucks in bed.
Then… I feel sorry for her. She has no real friends. How could he do this to her? What a douchebag.
She did the right thing. That bitch had it coming.
I swear to God, that reality show is the fucking bane of my existence.
Trust me to go and do something completely extreme. just to prove a point, and have it all backfire in my face. My dad thinks I’m a complete idiot. Not only that, but I went against his wishes and a part of me knows he doesn’t trust me.
You’re a grown woman, I remind myself.
I know, I know. I just have to keep reminding my brain of that every time I torture myself. Which is often.
Of course, nothing went right on this flight. Not only did I get stuck next to a Chatty Kathy in first class, but the air vent wasn’t working properly, making me a sweaty mess by the time we landed. I don’t know how people in coach do it, cramped together like that with no room to move. At least Pirate behaved in his pet carrier by my feet.
I grumble when I remember my dad giving me a send-off. He promptly told me I was basically cut off from spending until he could trust me again. I like how he waited until the day I was leaving to drop that bombshell.
I’m not a diva. Not by any means, but that’s a little harsh, even for him.
I’m also an only child so I’ve never known what it’s like to have a sibling, whereas Tara comes from a big family and they’re not all that well off. Her father had to work two jobs so she could go to the best schools, and sometimes I ask myself if she truly appreciates it. Tara has always been down to earth, and she’s been very grounding for me.
She has a nice family but acts like they’re the worst people in the world. At least she gets to see her parents often and have dinner with them every night. I’m lucky if I see my father twice a week. He’s a busy man.
