A Boy Named Jasper {Wattpad Featured Novel}

<Callie> A Girl Who's Breathing Fresh Air

Chapter 10

<Callie Stevens>

"He seems sweet." My mom comments as she buckles Henry into his car-seat.

Well, he was acting much better than usual.

"Yeah, I guess." My voice trails off while I buckle myself in next to Henry.

"How do you know him?" My mom asks with a grin.

"He's in my French and history class." I say and glare at her through the rearview mirror.

"Where shall we go for dinner?" My dad inquires, trying to blatantly change the subject.

My mom gives me a wink and then turns towards my dad to answer his question.

"I saw a bar and grill back there that looked pretty good."

"Then let's go." My dad smiles as he pulls out of the park and drives back the way we came, searching for the bar and grill my mom saw.

I stare out the window at the setting sun, a mixture of oranges, yellows and pinks painting the sky as it changes from day to night. My eyes follow the passing scenery; some old brick-buildings, the church my family has been attending regularly, a few family-owned restaurants and a plethora of little shops. There are tangles of people sitting outside of nearby restaurants, families walking down the sidewalk in little clumps, the sounds of local music filling the air as bands set up in the park where the market just was.

My parents are laughing and talking to each other while Henry falls asleep in his car-seat. I smile and brush some hair from my little brother's eyes, placing my lips gently on his forehead. He stirs a little, but his eyes remained closed. I go back to looking at the passing scenery, the town giving off a lively air. I've never really lived in a place like this; one where everyone knows their neighbors, where everyone cares for the people around them. Everington is stuck in its own little world, just like L.A., but it's a completely different kind of world.

Everington is easy-going; people aren't trying to get anywhere fast, they just want to enjoy the ride. L.A., on the other hand, is very touch and go. To me, it felt like everyone always had somewhere to be and no time for all the people they met along the way. No one was allowed to stand in their way because these people were too important to be stopped. The world L.A. is trapped in isn't of its own creation, though; it was created by everyone else in the world. To the outsiders, L.A. represents glamour, it's where people go to make it big, to make their dreams happen. The world puts L.A. on a pedestal and there are certain things expected of the people that live there too.

Everington like a breath of fresh air. In L.A., you are what your parents were; you are bound within the confines of your reputation and there's no way you can get rid of it because one person will always remember the one instance you screwed up, no matter how much time has passed. I guess that's why my dad had to move; he wanted a fresh start and a better life, one where he wasn't defined by what he did thirty years ago and where his family didn't have to be subject to the same torture. At least, for once, I won't be known as Paul Stevens Daughter.

My dad pulls in a parking space by the curb right in front of a small restaurant where half of the lights in the sign have gone out. It's supposed to read: "Smokie's Bar and Grill", but all of the consonants have gone out, so the title is all jumbled up. I help my mom get Henry out and then I follow her up to the fronts doors of the restaurant where loud music is mixing with the sounds of a sport's game playing on the TVs around the bar.

My dad walks us inside and we stand near the hostess stand. I look around the bar and grill; my eyes absorbing the unfamiliar surroundings. The walls are decorated with license plates, framed sports' jerseys and countless pictures of the high school football teams over the years. The bar is made of a dark sort of wood and has bright lights strung around it while bartenders rush around to get the boisterous crowd their drinks. Cheers erupt as the favored sports' team scores, which causes lots of people to order another round.