Lovely Monster

by Shaylee Europe

  Mrs. Michaels smiled. “That's really amazing. Congratulations,” she told me, and I thanked her.

  “So, do you have any plans about college? What you want to do with the rest of your life?” Mr. Michaels asked.

  I laughed slightly. “Not really. If it hadn't been for Julie, I wasn't sure if I'd even make it through highschool,” I told them, then mentally slapped myself. You didn't tell a girl's parents that. It was like a was law.

  But they both laughed, and when he looked at me again, he was shrugging it off. “I was the same way. Everyone would ask, and I'd tell them that I'd let them know as soon as I found out. It wasn't until my second year of college that I finally decided I was good at arguing, and a lawyer was a great job choice,” he told me.

  “I was going to be a teacher,” Mrs. Michaels said. “But within a few months, I found that I actually liked nursing than teaching. I didn't have the necessary patience for teaching,” she replied.

  The way they talked, I felt as if they were just any other person, rather than someone I needed to impress. They were easy, and amazing, and I knew exactly why Liam hadn't found a problem in allowing them to adopt him. They had a way of making you feel like you were already theirs.

  “I guess I need to decide,” I told them, because I was suddenly nervous again. I wanted to look together and smart, instead of the confused kid that I sounded like. I would be eighteen soon. An adult, officially. I needed to start figuring it out.

  “It'll come to you. Don't worry about it,” her dad told me with a comforting grin.

  I hoped he was right.

  “There she is,” Mrs. Michaels said, and we all stood up as Julie came down the stairs and stood in the doorway. I took longer to stand than her parents. My knees had suddenly felt weak.

  Julie was wearing an emerald green dress, the color of her eyes, and a pair of white heels. The dress went off her shoulders with short sleeves, revealing the smooth skin of her shoulders and neck. It stopped just above her knees, and flowed loosely around her small frame at the bottom, but hugged her from the waist up.

  “You look beautiful, Sketch,” her dad said, coming up to my side. I could feel his presence, but I was still captivated by her.

  You're not going to kiss her. My mind began to chant the phrase over and over. No matter what, you will not kiss her.

  “Thanks, daddy. Sorry it took me so long. I couldn't find my shoe,” she said, grinning in my direction.

  Not going to kiss her. Not going to kiss her even if she's the last girl on Earth.

  “I think your friend is speechless,” her mother said, and Julie started smiling at me, and her dad gave a hearty laugh. I felt my neck grow hot, and I moved my hand to the back of it.

  “Sorry. You look amazing, Julie,” I said, but my words sounded like a fourteen year old girl.

  Not the words from a guy who was not going to kiss Julie Michaels.

  “Thanks, Falon,” Julie said. She looked to her parents and hugged each of them. “I'll be back before eleven,” she said, kissing her daddy's cheek.

  “Just call if not. We'll probably be asleep anyway,” her dad said.

  Julie nodded and then came to my side. She was staring at the flowers. “Are those for me, or just part of the outfit?” she asked.

  Once again, I felt stupid.

  Don't kiss her. Don't even think about kissing her.

  “They're for you,” I said, handing them to her.

  Julie took them with a smile, and then smelled the flowers. “They're beautiful. Thank you,” she replied.

  I almost said what Ava had told me to. Like a knee jerk reaction. I managed to stop myself though, and I was glad I did. This fine edge I was walking between date and friendship was very thin.

  “Love you guys. Are you ready to go?” she asked me.

  “Yeah. It was nice meeting you both,” I told her parents.

  They smiled and stood side by side. “Same here, Falon,” her dad said. “Take care of my baby girl.”

  “Yes sir,” I said, and then followed his baby girl out of their house.

  Don't kiss her. I reminded myself once more.

  ♥

  Julie gave me the name of the restaurant. I knew where it was, but it didn't stop me from giving her a bewildered expression.

  “You know, I would have been fine with a Burger King, or McDonald’s,” I told her.

  She smiled, shaking her head. “Nonsense. You just graduated. You deserve a nice graduation dinner,” she told me.

  I just hoped Ava gave me enough to pay for it.

  It wasn't that the restaurant was some really extravagant place that you waited weeks for a reservation or anything, but it was the nicest place in town. The kind where men took their wives, or proposed to their girlfriends over a candle lit dinner.

  It was a date friendly atmosphere.

  I couldn't tell if Julie was wearing the dress because she had assumed this was a date, or if it were restaurant attire. With Liam gone, the lines were blurred.

  “Did Liam already leave?” I asked.

  Julie nodded. “Yeah. He told mom and dad what he was doing and then bolted. He's been there for about an hour now,” she told me.

  I nodded. Things went quiet again for a while, and I adjusted the radio. Nothing was on, so I turned down the volume and decided that conversation might work.

  “Your parents are really nice,” I told her.

  “Yeah, they're pretty great. They seemed like they liked you,” she told me.

  I laughed. “Doesn't everyone? I'm a likable guy,” I told her, and Julie started to laugh. I made a serious face. “That wasn't a joke. I was being serious.”

  Julie was still laughing. “Sure you were. You're an acquired taste, Falon. Not everyone can get past that gloomy and brooding shell of yours,” she told me.

  “You did.”

  “That's because we're pieces of the same puzzle.”

  I chuckled. “Sure we are.”

  “We are!” she protested. When I gave her a waning look, she stared at me with a disbelieving stare. “You and I are so much alike, it's scary,” she replied.

  “How so?”

  She stopped and looked up. “For starters, we're both comically inclined. Second, we both like the Beatles,” she said, pointing at the CD in the middle of our seats.

  “That doesn't mean anything. Anyone with good taste likes the Beatles,” I told her.

  She pursed her lips. “Whether you believe so or not, we're both guarded and don't easily trust. And, we've both read Cabal. I'm sure you can ask a random person, and they would have never heard of it,” she replied.

  I smiled, despite thinking about the first comment about her being guarded and untrusting. It didn't seem like that to me, but slowly, I realized that maybe she trusted me, and had let down her guards. I had only been around people she loved.

  “Also, we just understand each other, I think. I think I get you better than anyone else ever has, and that's the only reason you haven't shut me out completely,” she replied, toying with her dress. “And I know you understand me, whether you realize it or not. I think you see me better than I see myself,” she said, looking at me.

  I only glanced at her before turning my eyes back to the road. I knew she was telling the truth, but it didn't matter. Friends could have a close relationship like ours without taking it to the next level. The next level came with too many risks.

  “Pieces of the same puzzle,” I muttered.

  Julie laughed, but I could still feel the lingering electricity. “Exactly. Chips off the same block,” she replied.

  We were quiet the rest of the drive. It wasn't until we got to the restaurant that we finally spoke again. When it was, it was me telling her to wait.

  I went around and opened her door for her. She smiled as she got out. “Thank you,” she said, and then hooked arms with me as we made our way to the restaurant.

  The place wasn't really in a building. It was a beautiful pier, lit up by lanterns, wit
h a dance floor in the middle of all of the tables. It held a picturesque view of the lake, and gave off the feel of romanticism that I was desperately trying to avoid.

  The food was prepared in a small building away from the table, but was enclosed in glass, so you could watch them cook your food if you wanted. It was part of the entertainment, and I guessed that the cooks would put on a good show.

  I had never been to a place like this, but I knew I would need to tell Ava about it. It was a perfect place for a date.

  I tried to imagine how this would have been if Liam was with us. That would have taken the romantically charged atmosphere away. I doubted I would have been able to focus on him with her sitting close to me. This had been dangerous from the beginning.

  “We have reservations,” Julie said as we came to the hostess. The woman, prim from the dyed roots of her hair to the heels of her stilettos, looked me over once. I saw her conceal a scowl from her mouth, but not her eyes.

  “Name?”

  “Julie Michaels.”

  The woman looked at her chart, and then marked the paper. “This way, please,” she said, and lead us toward our table.

  “I asked for the best view. I think any seat will work for that purpose, don't you?” she asked, whispering in my ear. The task required her pulling herself closer to me, and having her lips press against my ear. The simple act constricted my chest uncomfortably and made it hard to breathe.

  “It is beautiful out, but a little overdone, don't you think?”

  “Overdone?”

  I nodded. “I graduated from a home school program, not college with a Master's degree. I would have been fine with a Burger King,” I told her.

  Julie laughed slightly and hugged my arm. “I'll take you to a Burger King if you graduate college. Besides, I wanted to get dolled up and eat overpriced steak, and twirl you around on the dance floor,” she told me.

  I immediately started to protest but was stopped by our halted walking. The hostess turned to us with a forced grin and presented the table to us. “Your table,” she replied.

  Julie removed herself from my arm, and I moved to pull out her seat. The motion hadn’t been planned, just reflex. I didn't know when I had become so gentleman-like.

  “Your waiter will be here shortly to get your order,” the hostess said. She wouldn't look at me as she spoke, but only Julie. It didn't really bother me, and Julie didn't seem to notice.

  “Thank you,” Julie said, smoothing out her skirt. The hostess started to leave. “Wait,” Julie said, lifting her head. The hostess turned, and I watched Julie smile. “By the way, your spanx are showing.”

  I had never seen a woman turn red as quickly as our hostess did as she turned and walked away, pulling at her dress in the back.

  Confused, I looked back to Julie, who was still smiling. “Spanx?” I asked.

  Julie shook her head. “Garment to make you look thinner. It's a girl thing,” she informed me.

  I really did not understand girls at all.

  I was beginning to think I didn't want to.

  I looked at our table, covered over with an eyelet lace cloth and holding a single candle in the middle. The table was designed for two people, on a date. Not friends.

  It made me nervous, but mostly, it scared me. I could feel myself falling for its charms. I could feel myself giving into the sensual atmosphere.

  Mostly, I felt myself falling for Julie, farther than I already had. I lifted my eyes to look at her, and found her gazing at me from across the table. It would be easy to give in and see how far I could go. To make this night be the first of many. To feel nervous when I took her home, wondering if it would be too soon to kiss her. To not be able to sleep when I got home because I was thinking of her and this night.

  I looked down, because it was easier. It was easier to put all of the silly notions out of my mind and pretend that nothing was going on between us. I wasn't feeling this way toward her and she certainly wasn't feeling that way about me.

  Why would she? I had nothing to offer her. No more than Thad, no more than I could offer Ava. A closed existence, where people looked at us and judged, and even behind closed doors, I was the same emotionally unattached monster that I was to the rest of the world.

  “Something on your mind?” she asked. When I looked at her again, her eyes were still warm and open. Nothing was crossing her mind about where this was heading. She was just hanging on for the ride.

  I shook my head. “No, not really,” I told her, giving her a smile. “Jane Eyre.”

  She smiled crookedly. “Why is it when you get nervous, you name out a book for me to quote?” she asked.

  “I don't,” I countered quickly. She gave me a disbelieving stare and I laughed. “I don't! I'm just testing your infinite book quote knowledge.”

  Julie sighed and looked up. She sat there for a few seconds, trying to find the perfect quote. Then she nodded and looked to me again. “Crying does not indicate that you are weak. Since birth, it had always been a sign that you are alive,” she said, her voice dropping.

  “Any others?”

  She tilted her head. “You do know that Jane Eyre is mostly Gothic romance, right? Almost every quote I can name is romantically entwined,” she told me.

  I shrugged. “That's fine.”

  Julie eyed me suspiciously, and then bit her lip, looking away. When she looked back, she had a light in her eyes. “This one is non-girly. I am no bird, and no net ensnares me. I am a free human being with an independent will.”

  When she finished, I just smiled. She tilted her head, eying me suspiciously.

  “What is it?”

  “What is what?”

  “This?” she asked, raising a brow. “Why do you really ask me to quote books? I've already proven to you that I've read a lot of books, especially older classics that you seem to prefer asking me about. Why do you ask?” she asked, and watched me cautiously.

  I twisted my mouth, and thought about just shrugging if off. Before I knew it, or was truly aware, I realized the truth was slipping out of my mouth and into her ear. “I like the way you speak,” I told her.

  Julie softened and stared at me. “The way I speak?” she questioned.

  “Yeah. When you're saying these quotes, the way you say them is captivating. I like hearing the way you read them to me,” I told her.

  She was watching me, smiling a small smile and breathing in deeply, as if inhaling my words. She looked caught, and fragile. “Really?” she asked.

  I nodded, but tried to keep myself from saying anything else. I was already saying more than I had originally intended.

  “Why only the older books then? Is there a reason?”

  I shrugged. “I figured books were like music. If it's done after the nineties, it's not worth knowing about,” I confessed.

  Julie considered this, and then shrugged. “I'd guess that's mostly true. But Harry Potter has a lot of great quotes, and Twilight is a quote book, and so is-”

  “A quote book?” I asked, raising my brow.

  Julie stopped and then laughed slightly, rolling her eyes in a manner I could only describe as flirty. “I don't know how much you read-”

  “Not much.”

  She laughed gently. “Well, there are certain books that are more known for the phrases that are coined rather than the story itself. Twilight is one of those books. Most of the newer book series are. Nearly any young adult book,” she said, shaking her head. “They become more focused in on the sporadic moments of insight rather than the graceful flow of storytelling.”

  “Example?”

  “Example? Well, Twilight. Even more, I had never meant to love him. One thing I truly knew- knew it in the pit of my stomach, in the center of my bones, knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, knew it deep in my empty chest- was how love gave someone the power to break you,” she said. She then shook her head. “A lot of books take these moments of thought and turn them into a constant story. You wouldn't hear a
real person say something like that, out loud or to themselves, unless they were alone and had time to think about it. Thoughts like that come within the middle of conversations and no one would think so eloquently about things like that,” she explained.

  I nodded, crossing my arms as I propped them on the table. “Isn't it that basis that appeals to girls though? Hearing these large declarations of love and promise? You're not telling me you didn't feel the tiny little tingles when Edward would explain to Bella how he shouldn't love her, but did anyway,” I prodded her.

  “You've read Twilight?” she asked with a teasing grin.

  I shook my head, scoffing. “I have a penis. I would never read a book about sparkling vampires in love,” I reminded her. Slowly, after her eyes refused to relent, I shrugged. “But, I also have a sister, and she made me watch the movies every time they came out.”

  “I tried to do that to Liam. He just looked at the ceiling the entire time,” she confessed, and I laughed because I could see Liam doing that. I probably would have done the same thing if I was deaf.

  “Hello, I'll be your waiter for tonight,” a man's voice said, entering our conversation. We both looked up at our waiter, who looked more like he belonged in a modeling catalog than a fancy restaurant in a small town.

  He pulled two menus from under his arm and held them out to both of us. Then, he took out his pad and pen. “Drinks?”

  Julie smiled up at him, and I'll admit, a jealous twitch in me arose. It wasn't even that her smile was flirtatious, only that his was, and suddenly, it seemed like I wasn't at the table.

  “Water, please,” she answered him, and then looked back at me. I must have been easily read because her smile quickly faltered, and looked to me cautiously.

  I cleared my throat and looked to the waiter. His gaze looked to me, and he raised a brow. I couldn't tell if he was genuinely curious about my condition, or to why someone as beautiful as Julie was out on a date with someone that looked like me.

  Not that this was a date, because it wasn't.

  “Coke.”

  “Okay. I'll bring your drinks back shortly and get your orders,” he said, smiling quickly to me, and then turning to Julie with a cocky grin. He left us, and I felt Julie's eyes land on me.