Effortless With You Lizzy Charles 6 page

I hide my sigh of relief in a steady breath when Zach pulls us safely into Romano’s parking lot. He meets me in front of the Jeep and wraps his warm hand around mine, leading me into the restaurant. We are immediately seated at a small table up front near the window. I mask a bit of disappointment when we aren’t given that table in the back corner. Goosebumps prickle my arms as I scan my menu. Something hums above me; of course I'm sitting right under the air-conditioning vent.

I eye the women around me. Only a few wear cardigans while most endure the temperature to show off their outfits. Fashion obviously outweighs comfort in the dating world. I smile at Zach, determined not to let the temperature ruin my date or my outfit.

Zach reaches his hand across the table and intertwines his fingers in mine. I willingly allow him to dominate the dinner conversation. He talks about lacrosse and shares his hopes of getting an athletic scholarship. I reassure him and he squeezes my hand in response. Zach seems gentler without his team around. He keeps eyeing me and from time to time, tells me how beautiful I look.

Zach’s attention and the dim lighting lull me into a romantic haze. Every time he repositions his hand in mine, a chill wanders up my spine.

After dinner, he suggests a walk in the park. The sun is almost set and brilliant colors fill the sky. Soon the lamp posts will light as the sky darkens. He puts his arm around me as we walk the paths toward the river. He slides his hand into my back pocket.

My face warms. It feels awkward having his hand there and I know we are now one of those silly couples with their hands on one another’s butt. But, somehow, it makes me feel good knowing that I am Hand on the Butt worthy.

I can’t wait to tell Marissa.

Zach walks me over to a bench behind a hedge, completely private.

“We can watch the sunset best from here,” he whispers in my ear as we sit down. His skin is so warm next to mine.

It’s like I’m living out a scene in a movie.

Zach pulls me close to him and we cuddle silently as the sun slips away. The extraneous noises of the park die down as well. Our secluded bench might as well be a deserted island.

My heart pumps in my head. The feeling of Zach’s hand rubbing up and down my arm is electrifying. I shudder in anticipation.

Zach pulls me close to him and presses his lips softly to mine. It's unlike any of his kisses before. Maybe this is the real Zach? I can’t get enough of the tenderness of his kiss. I respond with the same pressure, letting him know this is the type of kissing I like. I pull my fingers through his hair as he pulls my waist closer.

He continues to kiss me, the passion increasing. His hands wander up and down my back. I am lost in him. Somehow, he moves me from the bench onto the grass below. He presses his body into mine and his hand wanders up and down my thigh.

His kiss intensifies, pushing his tongue into my mouth with a bit too much force. It becomes too much and I need a moment to breathe. His weight is crushing. I push away from him as his hand wanders up my top. He keeps kissing me, a bit softer now, supporting more of his weight as he leaves his hand resting on my waist.

I return his kisses but my mind is racing a million miles per second. How far does Zach want to go? How far am I willing to go? I think of Justin’s lacrosse stick comment in the car. Zach’s body presses back into mine and the crushing weight returns. I try to take a breath but can barely fill my lungs. I'm not imagining things. It really is hard to breathe.

Suddenly, his hand is up my shirt, resting on my bra. The moment his fingertips reach inside the cup, my instincts take over. Adrenaline surges before me and suddenly I’m pushing him off of me. Too much and too soon.

Zach looks confused for a moment. He leans in to kiss me again, this time grabbing my neck and pulling my head to his while he shoves his tongue down my throat.

I pull away, gasping. “Stop.” This time he relents. He sits beside me, pulling his hands through his hair.

I move a foot away, trying to grasp what just happened.

“It was just too quick,” I whisper. I want to be ready for this, but I’m not.

Zach purses his lips together.

I wait, not knowing what to say.

“Okay.” Zach takes a deep breath. “That’s fine.” He stands up and walks away.

I force myself to follow.

“I’m really sorry, Zach. I’m just not ready for that.” I rest my hand on his arm. “Not yet, but someday.” I try to reassure him even though I know it isn’t true.

He nods and pulls out his phone, answering a text before looking my way.

“I should probably get you home.”

“Yeah,” I mutter. I check my phone. Nine forty-six. Every step away from the bench makes me feel more like a lame, little girl. I wish I could have just shut my eyes and done a little bit more. At least I wouldn’t feel like such a prude.

I study him out of the corner of my eye while he responds to another text, gnawing on his lip. He doesn’t seem angry, more disappointed. I can manage disappointment. I just need time.

I break the silence on our ride home. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

“Yeah? That’s great.” He speaks in more of his boisterous tone, although I can tell it is a bit forced.

I fill the awkwardness with comments about how well he manages his team. The texting never seems to end. He smiles and launches into some team politics. I agree with whatever he says and compliment him whenever possible.

But really, I just want to cry. I hate myself.

When we reach my driveway, he doesn’t move from his seat. I eye my house, not blaming him for not wanting to walk me to the door. I lean in toward him and give him a quick kiss because I know my parents are watching.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“No problem.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Yup, cool.”

I climb out of the car and pop inside to let Mom and Dad know I'm home. The last thing I need is my parents freaking out and punishing me for missing curfew when I was just hanging out outside.

I go straight to the basketball court off the side of our garage. I curl up with my back against the garage, right under the hoop. I look up through the circle of netting and study the moon.

And then I surrender to my tears.

I hate that I have to cry about Zach. Why can’t I be more like Marissa? I don’t have to go all the way but I could have at least done something more. What’s wrong with me? I’m sixteen. I should be able to handle this.

My old purple street ball snuggles behind our front shrub. I crawl over and grab it, the rubber tread like massage therapy to my palm. The only thing that feels right, but I can’t do it anymore. I hug it like an old teddy bear. Pathetic.

Maybe I can take just one shot. With wet cheeks, I stand up. Deep breaths. I just need to dribble out to the spray-painted three-point line, square up and shoot. But my chest squeezes the air out of me. My legs want to dart inside to my room. Sweat condenses on my palms and the ball slips through, bouncing away and back behind the shrub.

My heart stutters. Almost did it. But not even close. A sob erupts from my chest. I clamp my hand over my mouth. The windows are open. I can’t let them know I’m out here, crying.

I thought I left this long ago.

BZZZZ. My back pocket vibrates. My phone, unknown number. Zach must be calling from home.

I steady my breath, grasping composure.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Lucy.” The voice on the other end is higher than Zach’s and not as forceful. “It’s Alex.”

“Oh, hi Alex.” I sit up, a lame invisible attempt to sound collected. I rub my eyes. “What’s up?”

“Just calling to let you know Luke, Emmanuel, and I will be picking you up in the morning. Justin won’t be able to make it.”

“Oh, that’s fine. Same time?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Alex pauses and I take a deep breath. “Hey, are you okay, Lucy?”

“Of course I am,” I say to Alex in the peppiest voice I can manage.

“Oh, okay. You just didn’t sound like you, ya know?”

“It’s the phone … it always does that to my voice. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay,” he draws out his pause. He doesn’t believe me. “Well, alright. I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sounds good. Seven a.m.!” I say in my best cheerleader imitation.

I push END CALL on my way back to the front porch.

Justin won’t be driving me tomorrow. He can’t ask me how the date went. I grasp this small relief and then my brain runs wild as I walk inside. Would Justin have even asked after our argument this morning? He gave me the silent treatment all day and now he isn’t even going to pick me up.

Is he that upset with me?

What have I done? It seems like no matter what I do in life I always do it wrong. I thumb my phone, hoping it will vibrate with at least a text from Zach. After a few minutes, I put it back in my purse. I don’t know what I would say to him anyway.

I pace in my bedroom. My skin itches like I’ve done something wrong. I think of Zach’s body pushing me against the ground. My skin crawls. I fill the bath and climb in, hoping to soak away whatever is making me feel so wrong.

Even my body knows I'm failing at everything.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Alex pats me on the back when I climb in Emmanuel’s minivan the next morning. Like a brother, he knows exactly what to do. He doesn’t ask me much as we make the long drive. In fact, most of the way he argues with Luke over the best boy bands of all time. I have to hand it to Alex. He’s one confident kid. He even has me smiling by the time we pull into the association.

The crew operates differently without Justin around. Troy walks around a bit more confidently, which is weird considering he is always our project manager. He seems very pleased with himself as he barks out orders. Oddly, the more orders Troy gives the less the guys seem to listen. They act like elementary school kids with a substitute teacher. Whenever Troy turns his back, Alex and Luke throw water on one another and Emmanuel mocks Troy with surprising accuracy. I welcome every distraction as I find myself searching the grounds for Justin, even though I know he’s not around.

Troy sits beside me during our breakfast break. He lounges backward, with his left arm supporting him behind me. “It’s like managing two-year-olds, I swear.” He wipes his brow. “You can never take your eyes off of them.” He motions toward Luke, who is trying to balance the handle of a paint roller on his palm.

I laugh politely as I notice Troy inch closer. I shift my weight to my knees, purposely leaning a bit away and giving myself space.

“Yup. This is my second summer as project manager,” Troy continues. He looks around the complex and whistles. “A year ago, I managed only single-family homes. But, seriously, look at me now.”

I bite my lip. Wait. Is Troy hitting on me? I cock my eyebrow. Like this? He leans in closer, mistaking my look of disbelief as a look of interest. He keeps looking at me intently, waiting for me to respond to his business accomplishment. “Yup—impressive,” is about all I can manage.

I look away from his uncomfortable stare and catch Alex’s eye with a pleading glance. He takes one look at Troy and rolls his eyes. Alex crosses the lawn and plops down in front of us, extending his legs out and in between us. Troy glares at him but Alex plays oblivious.

I owe him, big time.

“So, what’s up Troy? When do you think we’ll start tackling block three?” Alex asks.

“Next week.”

“Why?”

“Because three comes after two ... ”

“Right. That makes sense.” Alex nods my way, “Isn’t she doing great? I’m a great teacher, huh?”

Troy sits up straight and turns to me. Instantly his flirtatious demeanor disappears and his eyebrows furrow. I cross my arms in front of me before he gives his assessment. “Yes. She’s competent in the basics and has potential. But her edging technique should actually be nurtured along a bit more.”

Alex rolls his eyes from behind Troy. “Yeah, okay. I’ll work with her along the edges.” I mentally review my edging technique. My edge lines are actually cleaner than Alex’s and Emmanuel’s. Alex mouths, “You’re fine,” to me.

“No. Again, all business here, but your edge lines are not the best example.” This time I roll my eyes in Alex’s direction and smile. Troy turns back toward me as I smile, again misinterpreting my message. Troy returns my smile and winks. “In fact, I think I’ll take over her coaching from here Alex.”

“What? No way. She’s my protégé.”

I back away from Troy. “No really, Alex is doing great. I like learning from him.”

“See, I’m doing great. Plus, you won’t be able to manage if your attention is on Lucy.”

“I’ll manage.”

“Troy, no really,” I interject.

Troy holds out his hands for me to stop talking. “No, it’s okay, Lucy. You can hang out with me and really master this painting thing.” He looks in Alex’s direction and directs in an overly authoritative tone, “You’ve done a great job. I’ll send you all the new protégés to master the basics. Thank you for your help.”

Alex bites his lower lip. “Fine.” He stands up and brushes off his jeans. “Sorry, Lucy,” he says before he walks away.

Troy looks at me. “Sorry for what?”

“It’s an inside joke.” I don’t turn back to look at Troy. I watch Alex kick an empty bucket. I feel Troy lean in toward me, the smaller space making me uncomfortable. I stand up, turning my back away from Troy as I brush the fresh-cut grass off my butt. Somehow I’ll find a way back into Alex’s responsibility.

Troy puts his hand on my shoulder, “Great attitude, Lucy. Let’s get going. GUYS, BREAK’S OVER!” he bellows through my ear canal. His voice rattles down my spine.

As the morning wears on, I'm forced to conclude that Troy is a good guy, just not my type. He keeps making lame jokes, laughing too much at himself and over-praising me. Nothing he tries makes me remotely interested in him. The poor guy is spinning his wheels.

Luckily, I have a boyfriend. I fill most of our conversation with “Zach this, Zach that.” I really want him to know that I'm taken. But Troy is clueless. He misinterprets every polite smile I give him, leaning in closer and closer throughout the day. Eventually, I revert to purposely messing up the basics in hopes that he will send me back to Alex.

I keep looking at my watch. It is already one o’clock and Troy still hasn’t called lunch break. I notice the other guys slowing down, every so often looking in Troy’s direction. I hope Troy will notice my stomach growling but he seems too focused on my trimming technique. I start to feel a bit woozy so I take matters into my own hands. I'm not going back to the hospital.

I climb down the ladder and lean in toward him. I take a deep breath and bat my eyelashes. I know I look ridiculous. I suck at flirting. Alex lets out a distinctive laugh from the scaffolding above.

“Troy,” I say softly, “Do you think we can take a break?” I bat my eyelashes a bit more.

He looks at me with a dazed expression on his face. I can’t believe it worked. He obviously does not interact with girls that often.

“Oh, right.” He looks down at his watch and swears. “GUYS—LUNCH!”

I jump off the ladder and leave it for Troy to take down, give him something to do other than ogle me.

Alex runs over and slaps me on the back. “Thanks! I swear—Luke’s head was turning into a roast-beef sandwich. I’m starving!”

I laugh. “It’s the least I can do considering I got you demoted.”

“Yeah, well, that’s for now. I’ll figure something out. The boss will eventually notice that the productivity has crashed. Troy will be forced to give up training and go back to managing.” He pats me on the back. “I will, however, miss the entertainment. Watching you react to Troy is hilarious.”

“Ha ha. Funny.” I playfully shove him away as I catch Troy eyeing me from across the lawn. I smile at Troy only to make Alex laugh. This will be a game that will no doubt carry us through the summer. I settle myself with my PB and J, gigantic water jug, and granola bar under a shady tree. I inhale my food and lean back to close my eyes. It feels so good to not be moving.

Moments of last night filter back into my mind. I lean in toward Zach at the restaurant and we walk hand-in-jeans-pocket through the park. The tender kiss that turns into lung-crushing force. I watch myself push him away and my lower lip quivers as I follow him back through the park. How did a night that started so well end in disaster?

My eyes itch and my throat tightens.

No. This will not happen here. I close my eyes tighter, allowing one tear to fall. Only a few more hours before I’ll be home and I can call Zach and explain myself. I'm certain he’ll understand. But how will I explain?

The loud clank of a familiar motor interrupts my thoughts. I don’t even have to open my eyes.

Justin arrives.

I listen to Troy greet Justin. Their voices drop and they have a quick, hushed exchange. I open my eyelids only slightly to try to catch Justin’s mood. Justin palms a basketball as he finishes his discussion with Troy. Troy shifts in place as they speak. Justin smiles and pats him on the back before throwing the basketball at Luke, only to steal the ball back immediately. Justin doesn’t seem upset at all. Maybe I was just imagining yesterday? I watch everyone else rise from the shade to go greet Justin. The street soon becomes a basketball court, without hoops.

I sit awkwardly underneath the tree. I’d be avoiding Justin if I didn’t stand up and join them. But, if I do, I risk Justin blowing me off. I survey our equipment, trying to find something legitimate to tend to so I don’t appear rude, just busy.

My eye quickly rests on the stack of empty water bottles. Perfect.

I walk over to Justin’s truck and grab a wagon out of the bed. Justin catches my eye as I pile the empty bottles into the wagon. He takes a moment to smile at me, which results in Troy stealing the ball from him. I smile back and give a quick wave before motioning to the empty jugs of water.

Obviously I have very important work to do.

I haven’t filled the water before. I remember Troy briefing us about a water fountain in the pool area that the association welcomed us to use. I pull the wagon down the street and up the pathway to the pool. I can’t help but feel like a little girl as I haul the little red wagon around. If only I had some lemonade.

The pool complex is empty. It is a beautiful pool, shaped in a large L and surrounded with trendy loungers and umbrellas. These people live in style.

I find the water fountain on the opposite side of the pool house. I lean against the cool brick wall, filling each container with precision. I eye the pool, imagining how refreshing it would feel to dive in. I toy with the idea when the sound of the pool gate opening removes my chance.

A familiar giggle echoes off the cement around the pool. A splash soon follows. “No, you didn’t. Come here, you!” The voice is instantly recognizable—Marissa. I have no idea why she’s here but there's no doubt that Marissa has a flirtatious agenda.

Another splash and another squeal.

I finish filling the water bottles, wanting to reveal myself to Marissa before I interrupt anything too intimate. Marissa works quickly with guys.

I'm right. Marissa has pressed her new guy into the corner, where she wraps her arms around his neck and starts kissing him. I open my mouth to clear my throat but then I notice the sandy blond hair that Marissa’s fingers are pulling through. Her hands resting on familiar biceps.

Zach!

Marissa is making out with Zach.

I don’t know what to do. I stand there witnessing their slow kiss turn into a passionate make-out moment. I want to scream at them. I want to run away and hide. But all I manage is a gasp.

It is loud enough to make them take their tongues out of one another’s mouths.

Marissa whips around, giving me, their interrupter, an annoyed expression. I watch as recognition dawns on her. She swims away from Zach and readjusts her bikini.

My eyes rest on Zach who doesn’t seem to need any time to process the situation. He nods up at me. “Hey, Lucy.” He reaches over and pulls Marissa back in front of him.

“Listen,” Marissa begins. “I was going to tell you.”

My shocked silence is replaced with livid anger.

“Bullshit.” The words spew from my mouth. Zach moves toward the stairs, slowly climbing them and walking toward me. “How long has this been going on? HOW LONG?” I shriek.

Marissa shrugs, adopting her catty face that I have seen her use on way too many victims. “About as long as you’ve been dating.” Her voice has that horrid edge, the one that allows her to step all over you … the one she used on Sally in the bathroom. She follows Zach out of the pool and ties a towel around her waist. She wraps her arms through Zach’s. “It started getting more intense the night at Old Minnie.” She giggles and looks up at Zach. “Remember, out by my car?” Zach nods.

“Oh. My. God.” I feel like I have been slapped across the face. “You really are a jealous witch, aren’t you?”

Zach takes a quick step toward me. “Dude, Lucy. It’s no big deal.”

I glare at him. “No big deal? Are you crazy? You cheated on me.”

Zach shakes his head. “Come on, Lucy. We barely even dated.”

“What?”

“Ok. Let’s be honest here. We were never really together.” He shuffles uncomfortably. “I mean … come on. You know what I mean?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Damn it. Come on. I sent you flowers last night. I took you to a nice dinner. I even tried to be romantic in the park.”

I nod. “Yup. I remember that. Sounds like dating to me.”

Zach shakes his head before replying in a condescending tone, “How do I make this clear?” He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Make me say it.” He takes a deep breath and I brace myself for what I know is coming. “I sent you flowers and you gave me nothing in return!” He pulls Marissa close to him.

Marissa pretends to gasp. “Oh Lucy, you didn’t?” She leans into Zach’s body.

Zach shrugs at me. “You won’t put out.”

My stomach revolts. Bile rushes up my throat. I swallow it as I try to find something to say. My heart races and I can’t see straight. The creaking sound of the gate saves me.

“Zach.” Justin’s voice bounces off the concrete. He suddenly is in front of me. “What are you doing here?”

“My uncle lives here. He lets me hang whenever I want.” Zach shrugs and motions toward me, “And, after last night’s disappointment, I needed some time with a real woman.” Zach grabs his bag and towel off a lounger.

Justin takes a step toward Zach as if he is going to hit him. Without thinking, I grab Justin’s hand and pull him back.

Marissa seizes the opportunity to exit. She whisks past me, pulling Zach along with her. “Sorry it didn’t work out between you. I really tried to teach you, Lucy.” She shakes her head. “You never even went down on him. My God, I didn’t know you were that clueless.”

“Well at least she’s not a slut,” Justin interjects.

Marissa looks back at Justin. “Oh, come on, Justin. You know you’ll be thinking of me in bed tonight.”

After this? Yeah right. There’s no way Justin will want to be with her.

“You always knew this was coming, Lucy. Just accept it and move on,” Marissa says with a wave as she opens the gate and steps out with Zach. “See you around.”

Zach wraps his hand around her waist, tucking his fingers into the side loop of her bathing suit bottoms.

They walk away in slow motion.

Adrenaline pumps through my body. My hands shake violently yet my legs become noodles. Justin catches me as I crumble. He eases me to a lounger.

How can Marissa and Zach do this to me? The bile returns and this time I can’t push it back down. I turn away from Justin, throwing up all over the cement.

My boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend.

I want to laugh. Best friend?

Marissa is such a manipulative bitch. How did I not see this coming?

And Zach! I wouldn’t put out. I can feel his body forcing me against the ground in the park. I start to tremble, wrapping my arms around my knees. Holding myself tight.

Justin brushes my bangs out of my eyes. That caring movement sends me into an ugly cry.

I can’t process anything.

Mad. Betrayed. Used. Insignificant.

Lost.

I close my eyes and tuck my head down in between my legs. I sob.

How can this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? I dry heave.

Just minutes after Zach made out in the booth with me he was feeling up Marissa in the parking lot. My empty stomach turns and fills with betrayal. No wonder Marissa wanted to get me home. They were hooking up.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Warm pressure around my hands brings me back to reality. “You need to stop shaking,” Justin urges. My hands rest in his palms. I keep my eyes averted from him. I'm so humiliated. His fingertip rests on my chin, slowly tilting my head up so I'm forced to look at him.

“Lucy, I’m sorry this happened to you.”

My heart skips and immediately my mind whirls. I cannot stay in the pool complex like this forever. I need to collect myself. I sit up straight. “Yeah, well. I’m sorry too.”

He lifts his eyebrow while he sweeps my bangs out of my eyes. “Why would you be sorry?” His thumb rubs my wrist. My hands have stopped shaking in his. My heart pounds against my rib cage. I need to increase the distance between us before I lose my senses.

“Well, the barf, again.” I lean away from him as I motion to the ground behind me. “I’m sorry for that.”

Justin smiles and releases my hands. He also leans away from me. “Well, yeah. You owe me big time.” I nod. I know I should laugh but I can’t force it.

“Well, that answers that.” Justin stands up and extends a hand, pulling me off the lounger. Once I am on my feet, he drops my hand from his.

“What answers what?” I rub the palms of my hands against my legs, attempting to erase the memory of his hands. My heart is so confused.

“For a second I thought you weren’t going to be okay.” Justin hands me a water bottle. The water cools the burn in the back of my throat. “But if you can talk about barf, somehow I know you’ll make it.”

“Right,” I manage. I take another drink. My mouth tastes horrible. “Do you have any gum?”

Justin grabs the wagon full of water bottles and opens the pool gate. “In the truck.”

I eye the gate, not wanting to walk through. I know the moment I step through I am leaving the crime scene, which means I have to face my new reality. I have to start processing being betrayed and used. Face being alone.

Justin catches my hesitancy. “Listen, Lucy,” he motions toward the gate. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy. But, I can promise you that your life will be much better without them.” He waits for me to move. I bite my lip and step through the gate. He pulls the wagon behind us.

“So, I’ll just run this out to the guys if you want to wait in the truck. I’ll take you home.”

Home. I think of climbing in my bed and hiding under my covers. I could cry as long as I need. Just the thought of the freedom to cry brings tears to my cheeks. And then I think about my parents. What would they do if they heard me crying in my room all afternoon? Mom’d just barge in, demanding to know what was wrong.

I can never share this with her. She wouldn’t understand. My pain would become her prize, her I told you so moment.

“No.” I shake my head. “Not home.”

“Why not home?”

“I just can’t go there.”

“Then where?”

I look up the street where Alex is dancing alone to his head phones while painting window trim. “I’ll stay here.”

“You want to work?”

“Yeah, I already missed one day for illness. I don’t want to get fired.”

“I promise you won’t get fired. I’m taking you home.” Justin turns and starts walking ahead of me.

“No, really. I want to stay.” I briefly touch his arm so he will look at me. “I need to stay,” I whisper. “I need the distraction.” Tears well in my eyes.

Justin lets out a light breath. “Fine. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Thanks,” I say.

Troy approaches us as we drop off the water wagon near the supplies. “Justin. What took you so long?” Troy walks up to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Did you get lost, Lucy? I started to think you were ditching more of my training this afternoon.” He smiles at me playfully.

I glare at his hand on my shoulder and rudely shrug it off. My left hand begins to shake. Being hit on is the last thing I need. Troy, not taking a hint, steps closer. I eye the truck. Maybe I do want to go home.

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 395