Bates Motel: Justin Bieber

Chapter 10

    Violet had made it in the house last night after being with Justin. She explained everything to Max. Except the part about the suicides at the tree. She didn't believe Justin's stories, but she still didn't want Max over there.

But she spent all night researching it and according to Google, it's called The Trader Tree. And apparently people, awfully stupid people, give their soul to the devil in trade for something else. There were rumors about Kathy Branson wanting some guy to like her and it ended up with her giving away her soul for his . . . love.

It was ridiculous, really.

“Mom wants you,” Max said, barging into her room.

“For what? It's Saturday, we don't have to work today,” she responded.

“I don't know,” Max muttered, leaving her room and going back to texting his annoying friends.

Violet trudged down the stairs, her loose pajama pants waving around as she walked. “Morning,” she said, grabbing a grape from a bowl.

“Did you know we have neighbors?”

Violet eyed her mom weirdly. “Why is that so surprising?”

“Because I thought our property was just . . . in the middle of no where. But no, we have neighbors a couple miles down the road.”

“That's great, Mom. But why did you need me?”

Tara put down the knife she was cutting fruits with. “Turns out, they have a boy around Max's age and an even littler girl. She's five,” she grinned. “She's adorable. They just came by and dropped off all this fruit. Said they grow it in their own garden.”

“Okay . . .” Another grape was popped into her mouth.

“Linda and Vincent Dean. The kids are Tyler and Bailey. They actually invited us for dinner.”

“Great, where are we going?”

“You, and Max, are not going anywhere. Your father and I are going to spend a nice dinner with the Deans, while you and Max stay here and get to know Bailey and Tyler. We figured, you guys are teenagers, you wouldn't want to go to a sit down dinner with us folks. You'll order pizza because . . . well, everybody likes pizza!”

“I'm all for it, but this seems like I'm just babysitting. She's five. How am I supposed to get to know a five year old?” Violet snickered.

“You're great with kids. Practice in the mirror, I don't know. Make it work, it's tomorrow night. Tell your brother, too.”

-

“You're kidding!” Max groaned.

“No, I'm not. I feel exactly how you feel. But hey, at least he's your age. Fifteen year old boys are all interested in the same things.” Violet has proved this true . . . Her ex-boyfriends all liked the same thing too, cheating.

“I swear, if he's geeky . . .”

“Mom said Bailey is five. I'm literally babysitting. I bet Mom won't even let me leave the house. I'm sure Bailey's brother won't mind taking care of her while I leave,” she snickered.

“Where do you plan on going? Sucking Tattoo Boy's dick again?” Max grinned.

“Maximilian!” Violet shouted. Why was this boy so vulgar?

“Don't ever use that name again.”

That was a futile attempt to get her to stop. That name annoyed Max, and Violet knew that . . . So that's exactly why she called him that.

-

Violet's phone started ringing, making her furrow her eyebrows. She only ever got calls from family members on special occasions and her parents when she was out, but when did that ever happen?

“Hello?” She answered, holding the phone between her ear and her shoulder, while she folded a shirt.

“You just don't listen, do you?”

Violet almost fainted, his voice sending shivers down her body. “Justin,” she breathed. “How'd you get my number?”

“The question is, how come my number wasn't already put into your phone?”

“I-I'm sorry, I just--“

“Come outside,” he interrupted.

“Really? It's ten thirty. Do you like late night hangouts or something?” She smiled. “Besides, I'm only seventeen, there's a curfew. You were late dropping me off last time.”

“Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm well aware of curfew. And I also know the cops around here very well,” he smirked. “Now change out of those pajamas,” he said before hanging up.

Violet peeked out the window, only to see Justin leaning against his truck. She closed the curtains, quickly changed, and made her way out of the house and to Justin's truck.

“Seventeen, huh?” Justin teased her through the open window, once she had gotten to his car.

Violet hopped in the passenger side. “I'm turning eighteen in a couple months.”

“You're young,” he chuckled.

“You can't be that much older than me,” she defended. “How old are you? Like nineteen?”

Justin switched hands on the steering wheel and flicked his nose lightly with his thumb. “Maybe we should leave my age out of it,” he smirked. “The less you know, the better.”

“I wanna know what I'm dealing with here,” she laughed, staring at the things passing by through the window.

“Oh baby, there's a lot of things you don't know about me,” he smirked.

Violet blushed, but then furrowed her eyebrows. “Like what? Because you don't know anything about me either.”

“You got a mom, a dad, and a brother,” he grinned at her. “That's more than I've ever had.”

Violet stopped mid-eyeroll. “Justin . . .” She whispered in sympathy.

“Don't worry your pretty little head. The less you know, the better remember? Besides, I don't like to dwell on the past,” he shrugged, continuing his driving. “So, have you ever robbed a liquor store?”

Violet chose to not roll out the subject, since it wasn't her business anyway. “Don't tell me we're about to do that, because I will not be participating.”

Justin chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. “Nah, I'm just playin. But I'm gonna get a few beers, want anything?” He asked, pulling into a gas station.

“No, I'm okay. Thanks,” she whispered. Justin stepped out of the truck, after grabbing his wallet. Violet watched him walk inside, thoughts coursing through her brain.

Is he crazy? Was he seriously gonna drink and drive in front of me again? God, why is he so hot?

“Shit, it got really fucking cold,” Justin said, once he was inside his truck. He placed the case of beer in the back seat behind them.

Psh, a couple beers my ass . . .

Justin rubbed his hands together and blew warm air into them. Pulling out of the gas station, he headed toward the woods again.

-

So #Jiolet or #Vustin?

I'm going to a hockey game Sunday and I don't even like hockey. Whoops. But any excuse to buy a giant sweatshirt and rep a team I don't even know.