Who's Loving You

Prologue

                   

Jay glanced at the Marc Jacobs watch his father had just given him that morning for his birthday, after delivering a speech about how successful men were never late, about how time was a precious thing, and about how time could never be regained. He'd then handed Jay a simple, black box and smiled. Inside was a watch identical to the one his father wore. For any other 16-year-old boy, this gift may have dimmed in comparison to others, such as an X-box, or a car, but to Jay, this was one of the rare moments his father had shown sentiment. Jay had slipped the heavy mechanism over his skinny wrist, and buckled it, only to find it was 3 sizes too big. With a slightly disapproving look his father had grunted, 'You'll grow into it', patted Jay, roughly, on the back, and headed off to work. After hearing the front door slam shut, Jay had immediately raced into his room, removed three of the links in the watch's band, and fastened it onto his wrist.

            Now, he rubbed the sleep from his hazel eyes, and checked the time. His watched read '7:20', "Shit!" Jay struggled to untangle the pink sheets that were wrapped around his naked body. Finally freeing himself, he rummaged around the floor for his boxers, baggy jeans, and Rolling Stones T-shirt, "Dammit!"

                        "What's wrong?" Jay watched as a mess of thick, wavy, black hair emerged from under a large, pink and black comforter that covered the king-sized, canopy bed he had just lunged from.

                                    "I'm late for my birthday dinner,"

                        "What time is the dinner?"

                                    "Umm," Jay pulled his clothes and sneakers on as fast as he could, stopping only to push his long, brown hair from his eyes, and then scanned the room for the keys to his motorcycle, "Eight. Gabby, have you seen my-?"

                        He looked to see Gabby swinging his Aerosmith keychain around her little, tanned finger, "Your keys?"

                                    "Thank God," Jay crawled onto the bed and grabbed for the keychain, but Gabby moved it out of reach. She looked up at him, with her big, brown eyes, and smiled. The way Gabby gazed at him, it was the way all the other girls did: with lust in their eyes. He'd always been told he was attractive with his soft, shoulder-length hair, his chiseled jaw, and girls just couldn't get enough of the dimple in his left cheek. But, Jay didn't have time to care about what females thought of him; he was too worried about impressing his father, "Gabby, come one. My dad's going to kill me,"

                        "Just a little longer?" she pouted her plump, pinks lips, and batted her long eyelashes at him, "Please?"

                                    "Gabby-" A loud crash came from just outside her bedroom door, and she reflexively pulled her comforter further up her body, "What was that?"

                        "Just ignore it," Jay felt her hands snake around his neck, but all his attention was on the vicious yelling that had just erupted on the other side of Gabby's ceiling-to-floor, mahogany double doors.

                                    "Gab, is that your parents?"

                        "Yeah, my dad's just been-" she flinched as another loud crash shot through the house, "He's been stressed and my mom's giving him a hard time,"

                                    "He doesn't – like - hit her, right?" When she didn't answer, Jay diverted his attention to Gabby. She was shaking slightly, and her normally, olive colored skin was a bit paler. She removed her hands from Jay's neck and wrapped them around her knees, which she had pulled to her chest. In the fetal position, Gabby looked less like the smart-mouthed, sexy renegade he'd known for 12 years, and more like a scared little girl. Her eyelashes brushed her cheeks as she avoided Jay's gaze, "Gabby?"