Progress
The Progress Series - Book One
By Amalie Silver
Out January 15, 2016
Jesse
I admit, I didn’t think much of Charlie at first. She was rounder than the
girls who usually caught my eye. Not my type. But when I saw her sitting in
that booth alone, for the first time something in my mind or my instincts or my
heart told me to join her.
She defied me.
She challenged me.
She gave me hope.
Before I knew it, moving forward was my only option.
Charlie
I couldn’t tell you when it happened, but it had to have been a gradual
change; I never moved too quickly.
If someone would have told me earlier that year what I was going to go
through, I wouldn't have believed them.
Jesse was so different from anyone I’d met before. And everyone I’ve met
since. He sucked all the life out of me, in the best—and worst—ways.
We don’t get strong overnight. For most of us it takes time. Strength
isn’t measured by how high and fast our walls go up, but how easily we can
watch them fall.
Warning: This book contains material that might be a trigger for some
readers. Abuse and rape are implied, but not described in detail. Discretion is
advised.
“Play the fucking game. It’s supposed to be fun. And
you’re killing my buzz!”
I exhaled. “Fine. Dare.” I cringed, wishing I could
take it back. But before I could say anything, she’d already spit it out.
“Take off all of your clothes and jump in the
water.”
My jaw dropped and my eyes popped out of their
sockets. “Fuck you. Nuh-uh.”
We sat in a stare-down for at least thirty seconds.
“Dude. You totally chose dare.” Angie snickered.
I waited for the shakes to come. I anticipated my
fear getting the best of me, and that any minute my head would begin to spin.
But they didn’t come.
Karal winked at me and nudged her chin out toward
the beach. “It’s dark. No one will see you. The closest house is too far and I
haven’t heard them all weekend. I don’t even think they’re home.”
I swallowed and tugged on my lip. The night air
suddenly chilled, and I rubbed my arms for warmth. Karal smiled and mouthed the
words you’re beautiful, and I frowned at how ungrateful I was for the
compliment.
Angie wouldn’t relent, I knew that. But I also knew
that at any point I could just walk away from the fire and resign for the
evening. I didn’t have to play their little game.
Or I could’ve just pulled up my big girl
panties—errr, pulled them down—and had it over and done with in less than five
minutes. I certainly had enough alcohol in my system to make the task bearable,
so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.
“Fine,” I said, my stomach shuddering with turns and
flips. I got to my feet and walked slowly to the beach, removing my shirt as I
went. Then one by one, I unclasped each hook on the back of my bra. But by the
time I removed it, I was out of their sight. I could barely see the sand under
my feet, let alone thirty feet in front of me. From their vantage point, I
doubt they could even make out my silhouette.
When I reached the edge of the water, I stripped off
my jeans and underpants, letting them rest next to a large boulder so I’d know
where to find them when I returned.
“You go girl!” Angie shouted, and I lowered myself
into the shallow waters of Lake Mille Lacs, keeping my middle finger above my
head in case she could see it.
The moon shone down on my pale skin. Even with the
sun I’d gotten that afternoon, I still looked like a ghost. The reflections
danced around me, my ears trying to pick up on any tiny sound or sudden movement
in the trees.
It was lonely out there, and a little scary too. It
had been more than ten years since anyone had seen my flesh, and I was
surprised to see how well I handled it. The booze helped.
My belly held a large bulge, and my thighs weren’t
even close to having a gap. I still felt my double chin every time I spoke, and
I saw the way Jesse looked at me. I wasn’t even remotely on his radar. But I
was moving forward, doing something about it. I could at least applaud myself
for my efforts.
The stars began to sparkle, and I couldn’t help but
stare. But the realization struck me:
I was drunk.
In a lake.
Naked.
Smart. Really smart. Get your ass back to the fire.
I laughed and got up, gathering my clothes on the
way back. By the time I got there, I’d managed to get my tee back on. I slipped
on my panties just as Karal turned her head.
“Where’s Ang?” I asked, sliding one leg into my
jeans.
“She had to pee. How was the water?”
“Surprisingly warm,” I said, trying to maneuver my
bra underneath my T-shirt. The old high school locker room trick never failed.
Under the shirt, clasp, twist, and slip the arms through. Piece of cake.
“Oooo. I might have to go for a swim!” Karal said.
I smiled and heard Angie rustling through the grass.
“Charlie? Oh, Charlie?”
I turned to Angie’s voice, but I couldn’t see her
yet. The glare from the fire was too harsh and Angie was back by the cabin
where there was little light.
“You better be naked or in your swimsuit,” I
shouted. “Because I’m dragging your ass to the lake and throwing you in!”
“Put your clothes on, Charlie. You’ve got company,”
Angie sang.
My brow furrowed and I looked down to my shirt.
“What are you talking about?” I laughed, remembering our conversation from the
night prior. “Did you pick up the pizza delivery guy?”
Angie came into the light of the fire, her face
twisted into a frown. “You could say that.”
“Oh yeah?” I opened the cooler and took out a beer.
“Yeah.” Angie’s voice sounded hoarse, and I looked
up again just as she stepped aside.
Approaching the fire, the faces became clearer.
“Ladies, Jesse Anders has joined the party,” Angie
snarled.
And I dropped my beer
Amalie Silver resides in Minnesota with her husband, two toddlers, and
German Short-haired Pointer, Saba. She consumes approximately three pots of
coffee a day, and credits this for her survival over the past decade.
When not completely consumed in her writing, she can be found taking road
trips to northern Minnesota, engaging in fierce Scrabble games, or reading a
good book. She’s a sucker for all romance genres, literary fiction, and
psychological fiction.
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