I squealed, because I wasn't expecting it, but as soon as I heard him groggily mumble, "It's okay, luv. It's just me." Instantly, I leaned back against him. He circled one arm around my waist, then he slid his other hand up the front of me. When he reached my neck, he trailed his fingers over my skin, as he murmured, "You look so beautiful standing out here, with the sun shining down on you."
"Thank you," I replied, as I reached back, and rubbed my hands over his hips.
Zach started trailing featherlike kisses along the curve of my neck, while he trailed his fingertips down the front of me. When he reached the string of my robe, he untied it, as he mumbled against my neck, "I want to see your beautiful body, kitten." Luckily, there weren't any other houses right beside us, so we had plenty of privacy.
Being an artist can make for a tricky life. Follow Willow as she tries to make a name for herself. As she floats from one gig to another, one man or woman to another, and one type of art to another.
"Five minutes until we need to be out the door," my mom hollered from the kitchen. Yes, I still lived with my momma. It was the day of my high school graduation, and we were both ecstatic.
My mom had to work hard to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table, since my dad left us, when I was only six years old. I had not heard from him since my 8th birthday. It used to make me so sad, when I would think about him, but I got to the point, where I only thought about him on the more important days. Like when a girl's father should be right by her side, showing his pride for the what she has accomplished.
I felt my eyes begin to water, knowing he would not be at my graduation. I quickly wiped them away, and straightened my back, before walking down the stairs.
We hopped in her car, and headed to the high school. On the way there, I thought about what I should do, since I was graduating. I didn't have the money to go to college, but I was a very talented artist, in so many different ways.
If I could just get my foot in the door somewhere, I could show off my many talents. The only problem was that I didn't know which one of my talents, I should focus on the most. I could draw, paint, sing, write, design clothes, dance, play multiple different instruments, basically I could do anything in the world of artists.
When we arrived at the school, people were everywhere. I quickly made my way to the rest of the graduates, and lined up for the ceremony to begin. My best friend Skylar was already in line, and I quickly joined her. Of course we hugged and squealed like the school girls we were, then we heard the music begin, signaling it was time to walk to our seats.
The ceremony went by quick, since we live in the small town of Spencer, Indiana, and we didn't have a lot of students. When we were finished, my mom and I met Skylar and her parents at the café, where Skylar and I both worked.
Our boss Savannah insisted we bring our families after the graduation, so she could treat all of us. She was a super sweet lady, who would do anything for anybody, even if it meant giving a stranger the shirt she was currently wearing.
I started working for her the day after I turned fifteen. Having watched my mother exhaust herself, trying to work multiple jobs to take care of us; I wanted to start working, and help her out with money, as soon as I could and that is just what I did.
When we got there, Savannah had the whole café decorated for us. As soon as we walked through the door, she yelled, "Congratulations to our very own Willow and Skylar for graduating high school." Right away, she ran in our direction, then gave us both a bone crushing hug.
After we ordered and ate our food, she surprised us with a big cake that said, 'Congratulations Willow and Skylar". It was a delicious marble cake, with chocolate frosting. When we finished eating cake, Savannah pulled me to the side and asked, "How would you feel about performing some of your songs here next Friday night?"
I immediately hugged her, as I exclaimed, "That would be so amazing. I would be delighted to perform here."
"Great, get your set planned out, because I have already made the arrangements. I have flyers that we will start handing out tomorrow," she explained.
"Consider it done. I promise you will not be disappointed," I assured her.
"Oh sweetie, I already know that. You forget, I have heard you sing before, and you have the voice of an angel," she exclaimed.
"Thank you, Savannah. What would I do without you?" I thoughtfully asked.
She chuckled, then replied, "You are most welcome. Now go have fun, and we will talk about this more, next time you work."
I gave her another hug, then walked back to my group. It wasn't long before we split ways and headed home. It was getting late, and we were all exhausted from the excitement.
As soon as we walked through the front door, I gave my mom a big hug, then ran upstairs to my room. When I got there, I grabbed my folder with all of my songs. I flipped through them, while I tried to decide which songs I would perform next Friday. I had a lot of them, so I picked out my ten favorites, and decided I would have Skylar and Savannah help me narrow the choices down.
After that, I grabbed my ukulele, and started strumming the tune for my favorite song, and sang it to myself. When I finished, I noticed my mom was standing in the doorway, enjoying the sound of my singing.
She walked over, and sat beside me on my bed. As soon as I set my ukulele to the side of me, she pulled me down, so that my head was resting in her lap. She tenderly stroked my hair, as she murmured, "You have the most beautiful singing voice. Do not ever let anybody tell you any different, and if they do, you just tell me, and I will knock their teeth down their throat."
I chuckled at her protectiveness. Since it had been just the two of us for so long, we have a very close mother daughter relationship. She has always been my mom first, but she has also been one of my best friends, as well. She would do anything for me, and I would do the same for her.
I can remember the one time she brought a guy home with her. She had gone out drinking with some friends, then a guy brought her home, because she couldn't drive. She invited him in for a cup of coffee, but he apparently thought she lived alone, because I suddenly heard her scream.
I immediately ran down stairs, and saw him standing over her, with his hand raised like he was going to hit her as he snarled, "You will suck my d**k for giving you a ride home, or I will knock your teeth down your throat."
I grabbed my bat, and ran up behind him. I didn't want to hurt him bad, and get in trouble, but at the same time, my mother needed protection. So what did I do? I swung that bat landing it on the back of his legs. His knees instantly buckled, and he crumpled to the floor in pain, as he screamed, "What the f**k?"
I grabbed a handful of his hair, then dragged him out of the front door. Once I got him dragged to the lawn, my mother had already called the cops, letting them know this guy just hit her, and tried to force himself on her.
As the cops pulled up, I was kicking him and screaming, "How does it feel, you f*****g piece of shit. You are a disgrace to all men, and don't deserve to keep the d**k in your pants. If you ever come near me or my mom again, you will regret it, I promise you that."
It took three cops to pull me away from him. After I had hit him with the bat, I saw my mom's bloody lip, and just lost it. Nobody hurts my momma, and gets away with it. If I ever see my own father again, I will kick his ass, too, for hurting my momma the way he did.
Once the cops got me back in the house, they got the piece of s**t handcuffed and in the back of the cop car; then they asked us to write down our statements. Of course, we did so immediately, to ensure he would face the consequences of his actions.
When the cops left, I hugged my mom close, as she cried on my shoulder. "It's okay mom. I won't let nobody hurt you, if I can help it," I assured her, as I rubbed circles on her back.
After about an hour of crying, she fell asleep with her head laying in my lap. I gently stood up, and placed a pillow under her head, then I grabbed a blanket and covered her up before going to bed.
Ever since that incident, I have been more protective of her, than she has been with me. Not that she isn't protective, I am just way too overprotective, and I am not afraid to admit it. I am also very protective of Skylar and Savannah.
Savannah started the café by herself ten years ago, and she has done a great job with it. She keeps a steady flow of customers, a lot of them being regulars. She is super sweet, and treats us like we were her own children. I learned that Savannah was not able to have kids of her own. She was married until she found out she couldn't have kids, then her husband left her to find somebody else who could. It was disheartening that I man who claimed to love a woman, could just leave like that.
Skylar is also an artist like me. She doesn't usually write songs, but she has a great voice, and often times, she will sing my songs with me. She was an amazing painter.
Our sophomore year in high school, we painted a mural on the wall outside of the art classroom. It was an amazing scenic painting. It had mountains in the background, with a lake to one side, and a forest to the other side. We added ducks to the lake, and a couple of deer and rabbits scattered around the forest. When it was finished, it looked so realistic. The art teacher assured us, that he would never let anybody paint over it, as long he was teaching there.
We were both very pretty, and always had guys asking us out, but the guys our age were just so damn immature, it drove us both crazy. One of these day, I thought to myself, the perfect guy for me will just show up out of nowhere, and sweep me off my feet.
I have no patience for nonsense, when it comes to guys and relationships. Not that they couldn't be fun sometimes. I had a few boyfriends throughout high school, but they always ended up being douche bags, thinking I would just give them s*x after a week. Not that I am a virgin or anything, but I am also not a slut. If a guy wants to get into my panties, he has to earn it first, and that is not an easy thing to do.
When I finally laid down to sleep, I couldn't get my mind to shut down right away. I laid in the dark for about an hour, before I felt my eyes slowly close, throwing me into a world of dreams.
I have a lot of dreams when I sleep. Mostly they are dreams about becoming a famous artist, but sometimes I will dream of other things, too. Like what life would have been like, if my dad had never left, or at least kept in touch.
When I would have bad dreams, I would brush them off, as soon as I woke up. Dreams are just dreams when you are sleeping. What matters is what you do in life to make the good dreams come true, and I intend to do as much as I can to make my dream of being an artist come true.