Life Reversed - Chapter 2

Third book in a time travel series. Work in progress.

Jim

There was something about Brianna that struck Jim as soon as he met her. He had noticed her driving around Craig’s neighborhood before; she was really pretty so how could he not notice her? But on this particular day something got to him when he saw Craig talking to her at the 76 Station. Actually, that wasn't entirely true; he felt that ‘something’ when she drove by that morning. Then when Craig began talking to her he was unable to prevent himself from jumping out of the truck to get her attention. He felt like a complete fool afterwards, no thanks to Craig.

“She’s cute, huh?” Craig asked.

“What?” Jim asked.

“Brianna; the girl you just met. She’s cute isn’t she?” He replied with a grin as he navigated the truck onto the I-5 North.

“Oh, yeah. Totally.” Jim wanted to be left alone with his thoughts.

“Nice girl, too.”

“Seems like it.” He ran a hand through his light brown �" bordering on dirty blond �" hair which Craig and Roseanne had been teasing him about cutting. His hair barely reached his shirt collar but to them it was getting too long. This only served to remind him why he preferred not to attend church. As he gazed absentmindedly out the passenger side window, something compelled him to stare long and hard at the apartment complex directly off the Las Ramblas exit while they drove past.

It briefly crossed his mind to ask Craig about Brianna’s situation, however, in the short time they worked together Jim discovered that Craig liked to talk a lot. Sometimes too much. Jim already knew what members of the church that Craig and Roseanne attended thought of him. They attended the same one as his mother, although her attendance was rather sporadic. He knew everyone looked down on him for not being a faithful member. He wasn’t being paranoid either. His mother, Doreen, time and again made known to him the reputation he had among everyone; and these were people whom he hadn’t seen nor talked to in months. And what a “horrible” reputation it was: he had two non-believing girlfriends in the past three years, was one of the strongest players on the basketball team all through high school and graduated with near straight A’s. However, since he had no desire to attend church regularly, much less participate in the requisite door-to-door preaching work, none of that mattered. Most of the kids he grew up with in the congregation were forbidden from associating with him until he got his act together. He could single-handedly rescue a whole family from a burning house but all that would matter to those people is the fact that he hadn’t attended a church meeting for six months. Actually, it had been much longer than that but he still didn’t think that made him a bad person despite what anyone said. So because of all this, the last thing he needed was for Craig to go running his mouth to everyone about how he was asking questions about the girl who was related to the head of the congregation.

She really was pretty, though.

He wasn’t about to deny the fact that his life was at a standstill at the moment and he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do with it yet. He was taking classes at Saddleback but had no idea what he wanted to major in. He liked the job with Craig but knew there was no future there. His father would tell him to get his act together before even thinking of getting involved with anyone. He was trying but sometimes he felt lost.

That night Jim still couldn’t get the cute blonde out of his head and it irritated him to no end. What was her deal?

He remembered how Craig invited him to attend church with him and Roseanne on Sunday, which Jim suddenly realized was the next day. He had told Craig he would think about it with no actual plans on doing so, much less attending. But maybe she’ll be there. Not wanting to waste another second, he called Craig.

**********

Brianna

I was dumbfounded that I had allowed myself to cave. What was I doing here? I'm a full-grown, adult woman who gave in to my parents, again.

Sunday morning I awoke to banging on my bedroom door, again. What the hell was it with these people?

“Brianna, are you awake, yet?” My mother asked as she swung open the door before I had a chance to mumble that I was awake now.

“Why are you still in bed? We’re going to be late. Hurry up and get dressed." I had forgotten how the majority of the questions my mother asked were rhetorical and, in reality, she had no interest in hearing your answers.

“Late for what?” I asked as I sat up and felt my head pounding.

The night before, my parents held a dinner party. Well, using the word “party” was a bit of a stretch. My mom loved playing hostess and at least once a month she invited people from the church over for dinner. These get-togethers usually ended up in gossip, sharing door-to-door preaching experiences, and sometimes games like Pictionary, Trivial Pursuit, etc. The type of stuff that made me want to snap my own neck and put myself out of my misery. Since I was under obligation to attend this thing, I searched through the liquor cabinet and found an old bottle of rum tucked in the back. I was pretty sure it had been sitting there for a while and was from a previous dinner party as my parents were more wine and vodka drinkers. I had a feeling they wouldn't miss it and, in any case, I planned on putting it back after they went to sleep. I snuck it into my bedroom and, throughout the night, secretly refilled my cans of Diet Coke. I couldn't tell you the last time I drank rum and I was feeling it when I sat up. But I also couldn't deny that it made the evening a little more tolerable.

“I'm sorry, but did you just ask me ‘late for what?’” Of course, she didn't wait for an answer and continued. “The meeting, Brianna. It is Sunday, after all. You're going to make us late for the meeting, again.”

She was talking about church.

“Oh, I'm not going.” I stated matter of factly.

I won't go into detail about the lunacy I created by making that announcement. Let's just say there was screaming, talk about how I will somehow would send my parents to an early grave; oh and of course Caelum had to join in the madness by claiming that if I wasn't going to church then he wasn't going. I did throw in a reminder that at eighteen years-old I was legally an adult and had every right to make my own decisions. This was countered with a reminder that I still lived with them and as long as I do, I was required to attend the three church meetings per week.

I don't like fighting; particularly with people I live with and have to see and talk to on a daily basis so I gave in. I explained that I really should shower first and I that they can go ahead without me and I'll meet up with them.

“Are you serious? No! How will that look if we don't attend as a family? Absolutely not. Now get dressed.”

Ah, that's right; the compulsive need to impress our fellow congregants. Thank you Universe, or whoever you are, for sending me back to this era. My mom has always been obsessed with outward appearances. Caelum and I were reminded on a daily basis that every single move we made was a reflection on her and my dad and for some reason they were convinced that everyone on this planet was watching and judging us. Personally, I never thought we were that interesting, but what do I know?

“Ok, fine.” I threw the covers off and marched to the closet. I slid open the side of the closet where I kept my dresses and threw up in my mouth a little. This was partially because of the rum but mostly because of the flowery dresses aligned as far as the eye could see. Was I at one time attempting to channel Laura Ingalls Wilder? I picked out the least putrid of the bunch, quickly brushed my teeth and slapped on some eyeliner in the hopes of looking less hungover. I walked into the living tying my hair into ponytail when I observed the disgusted look on my moms face.

“Brianna, you wore that dress to the last meeting, do you really want people to think you wear the same clothes all the time? And since when do you wear a ponytail? Go change and fix your hair.” If I had been given a chance to answer I would have said that, first of all: I wasn't given time to wash my hair. Second: I really didn't care how my hair looked, today. I was being forced to go to this thing, for God’s sake.

“Victoria, we're going to be late.” My father interjected with a sigh.

Once we parked the car and walked up the church steps my mom kept complaining about how late we were and how this was going to look so terrible. Everyone will observe us walking in late and she could not have that. When my father swung the auditorium door open I saw people milling around and chatting it up with one another. The service hadn't even started yet.

How did I not become a drug addict?

We settled into our chairs (our church had theater seats instead of pews) and when it was time to stand up to sing the first hymn, I glanced over to my left and spotted Craig, Roseanne and their eight year-old daughter filing into the row in front of us with Jim in tow.

“Oh f…!” I inadvertently whispered, but not softly enough as my mom, two seats over with Caelum in between us, shot me her patented look of death. I managed to catch myself before letting the f-bomb slip but that didn't matter. Caelum stifled a laugh and my mom elbowed him.

Jim was here and I looked like s**t. Granted, in the previous eras that I was sent to, Jim had seen me both perfectly coiffed and as a complete mess but technically, this is supposed to be our first encounter. Yesterday didn't count; this was to be the first time we interacted with each other. After discovering that I had woken up in 1989 yesterday, I vowed to make our encounter a memorable one. I hadn't yet figured out how to accomplish that but this was definitely not what I had in mind.

“Tell Mom I'm going to the bathroom.” I whispered to Caelum and before he had the chance to be a smartass I grabbed my purse and practically climbed over the people sharing our row of seats and ran back to the restroom in an attempt to make myself presentable.