by Kelly Oram
“I don’t trust you,” I said quickly. “You’re not normal. I wasn’t kidding about that. You seriously creep me out.”
“So you don’t like me,” Seth clarified, “but you don’t hate me.”
I cringed at the harshness of the truth, but Seth bounced back to his normal self. “I can live with that,” he said.
“Good. So then I can leave now?”
I started to get up and Seth rose to his feet. “Not quite.”
“Why not? You plan on keeping me locked up in here forever?”
Seth cracked a smile. “Just until you develop Stockholm syndrome.”
“But you just said you could live with me not liking you.”
“Okay, I meant I could work with it, because here’s the thing, I think you’re lying to me.”
“Excuse me?” I was so surprised by his statement that I didn’t realize he’d made his way across the room to me until it was too late. I stepped back and fell onto the bed again. Glaring at him, I scrambled back to the corner and pulled my knees tightly up to my chest.
When Seth climbed on to the bed after me, I realized that the corner was not the best idea—Seth had me completely trapped. “You think that you don’t like me,” he said, “because you’re nervous. But when I touch you, you don’t exactly run screaming.”
To prove his point Seth slowly grabbed my hand. I didn’t like him being so close to me, and I trembled when he took my fingers in his. He was right, though. I didn’t pull away. I totally could have because he was barely clinging to me as he brushed his thumb over the back of my hand. But I didn’t.
“You see?” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my fingertips.
I pinched my eyes shut and sucked in a sharp breath. My heart pounded in my chest as I felt Seth place my hand against the side of his face.
“You do like me,” Seth whispered, breaking the no-using-his-sexy-voice rule again. He turned his head and kissed the inside of my wrist. “You’re just scared.”
Seth gently tugged my hand, his lips trailing up my arm as he pulled me closer to him.
“Ellie, look at me.”
I couldn’t open my eyes. I felt strangely dizzy. My entire body was shivering even though I felt impossibly hot. “Stop,” I breathed.
Seth obediently pulled his lips away from my skin but he still clung to my hand. “You’re going to give in sooner or later,” he said, his voice sending even more chills through me. “The sooner you stop fighting it, the sooner you’ll see you have nothing to be scared of.”
When he stopped talking I opened my eyes. I shouldn’t have. The eyes I found staring back at me were both sincere and hungry.
Seth’s gaze dropped to my mouth, making me suck in a breath. Then he slipped his hand around the back of my neck and began gently guiding my face toward his. My body obeyed without my permission. The second his lips brushed mine, naked panic set in. “I said stop!” I gasped, shoving him away.
Seth fell back slightly dazed, and seeing an opening I reacted instinctively. I leaned back and kicked my feet as hard as I could into Seth’s stomach, knocking the wind from him. “That was for kidnapping me, jerk.” I said and then flew across the street to the safety of my own home.
Sixteen. It didn’t feel any different than fifteen. And July fourth? Still the lamest birthday ever. It started out pretty much the same as it has every year since I was old enough not to be in day care during summer break.
Mom and Dad busted into my room at seven a.m. with a very off-key performance of “Happy Birthday.” Mom sat down on the edge of my bed and wrapped her arms around me. “I’m getting off work a little early so I can take you to the DMV before it closes. You’ll be a licensed driver by the end of the day!”
I might be excited about that if I actually had a car to drive, I thought. But I didn’t say that. I forced a smile and said, “Thanks Mom.”
“And you and I will go first thing tomorrow morning and find that car that has your name on it,” Dad said, pushing Mom aside for a hug of his own. “But in the mean time, I’ll be home at six and we’ll all go out with your sister for a birthday dinner together and then go see fireworks. How does that sound?”
Lame. But I didn’t say that either. “Sounds good to me.”
“Have a good day then, sweetie,” Mom said, kissing my forehead and rising to her feet. “Try not to break any bones today.”
“Yours or anyone else’s,” Dad teased. That made me crack a real smile.
“No worries, Dad. No one to fight with today. The guys at the park play Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays.”
“Happy Birthday, kiddo.”
After my parents left I tried to go back to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I was too depressed. I really hate self-pity, so I went for a long skate to get my blood pumping. A good adrenaline rush usually makes me feel better. Except it was already really, really hot out, so I didn’t last that long. I can tolerate the sweat if I’m in a game, but just trolling around a deserted neighborhood isn’t worth it.
When I came back inside I was surprised to see Angela at the table, already showered and dressed. “What are you doing up?”
“Brooke’s coming to pick me up soon.”
“You working?” I asked. Maybe this day didn’t have to be a complete waste. I really did want to get a few new clothes. Especially since the jersey I was currently wearing was sticking to my back. “Maybe she could take me, too, and you could…”—ugh, it was painful to say this to her—”you know, what you said. Help me pick out some new clothes.”
Angela’s eyes got so big they nearly popped out of her head into her cereal bowl.
“Forget it,” I said quickly when I felt the blood rising to my cheeks. “Never mind.”
“No, no, Ellie, we can! I’ll totally help you! I just can’t right now. I’m not working. I promised Brooke I’d go with her to Lansing. She has some family barbeque thing. We’ll be gone all day.”
“Oh.”
When I turned to head upstairs Angela quickly stopped me. “But I’ll be back around five-ish. We could go then.”
The excited look on my sister’s face was weirding me out. She was never excited by the thought of having to spend time with me. “Can’t,” I said. “Mom’s taking me to the DMV and then we all have to go out for a family dinner and fireworks.”
“Oh, yeah.” Angela’s enthusiasm was gone again. “That’s today, isn’t it?”
Nice.
“No offense,” she said, “but that’s like the lamest sixteenth birthday ever.”
Did she have to rub it in like that? I was already bummed enough. It was actually getting hard not to show it. I just shrugged and headed toward the stairs again.
“Ellie?” I looked back at my sister. “Let’s go tomorrow,” she suggested. “We could take the day and go to the outlets. I’m sure mom and dad will give us the car. I’ll even let you drive.”
Angela smiled at me—a sincere, honest smile. Maybe the first real one she’d ever given me. But it was full of pity and actually made me feel worse. “Yeah, okay, maybe,” I said, knowing I wouldn’t go but not wanting to hurt her feelings for once.
By the time I got out of the shower I had the house to myself. Nothing like the sound of silence to make a bad day drag on. Daytime TV is the worst, and I quickly realized that everyone was right about my video games. Not that I want to take up assassinating people or anything, but Skateboard Pro 2000 really was starting to get old.
With a sigh I turned off the X-box and retreated to my window to watch Seth work out. I’d told myself that I wasn’t going to do that anymore, but I’d been unable to keep that promise. Yeah, the guy dragged me kicking and screaming into his bedroom, but it was weird. He really didn’t want to hurt me. I think he was just trying to explain why he’s a freak. It seemed like he knew he was a freak and was almost insecure about it. I couldn’t get that vulnerable, desperate face out of my mind.
Plus, he wasn’t exactly forcing me to hold still when he’d pre
ssed my hand to his face. My arm was still tingling everywhere his lips had touched it. And when his lips touched mine for that tiniest brief second? It wasn’t even long enough to be counted as an actual kiss, but still, I couldn’t forget it.
It didn’t help that Seth had completely ignored me since then, either. He hadn’t so much as looked at my house since I’d run from his. I mean, I know that’s what I’d wanted, but now that I was getting that wish I was kind of annoyed by it. Was he mad at me for kicking him? Because that is so not fair, he’d kidnapped me!
The more I thought about Seth, the more I needed some fresh air. I went out to shoot hoops in my driveway. I’m not the best at basketball, but hockey doesn’t help release anger quite as well as basketball if there’s not someone to knock over.
I realized that I was making myself accessible for another attack, but I didn’t care. I refused to hide today. After Seth finished his workout however, he disappeared into his house and never came back out. Not even a single glance my direction before he went inside. The jerk.
It’s not that I necessarily wanted Seth’s attention, it’s just that since my friends were gone, my parents were at work, and my sister had turned down the opportunity to give me a makeover, the fact that not even my psycho stalker, who knew it was my birthday, wanted to see me today was kind of a low blow.
If it weren’t for the UPS guy showing up right then, I might have gone over and asked Seth what his freaking deal was, even if it could get me sliced up and dumped in the Detroit River.
“I’ve got a package for an Eleanor Roosevelt Westley?”
“That’s me,” I said. And then it registered what he’d called me. “Eleanor Roosevelt?” I grumbled, knowing who the package was from without needing to look. “Idiots.”
“Roosevelt? Is that really your name?” The UPS guy asked as I signed for the box.
“No. It’s not. My friends just like to make fun of me because I was born on the fourth of July.”
“Oh. Well, Happy Birthday!”
“Thanks.” Was it sad that the UPS guy said happy birthday when even my own sister hadn’t?
I waited until the truck was gone to see what my moron friends had come up with from camp. I was almost afraid to look. If it was a bunch of sweaty jock straps they were going to be dead.
I was so completely shocked by the red and white fabric in my hands that the box fell to my feet forgotten. It wasn’t the token souvenir Red Wings jersey that surprised me, it was the personalized autograph from Ten-time NHL All-Star Hall Of Famer Steve Yzerman on it that literally made my knees buckle.
“For Ellie, Happy sweet sixteen! Love, Steve Yzerman.”
I read the inscription over and over again in disbelief as I sunk to the driveway. I was still in so much shock that I landed on the box and smashed it. When I pulled it out from underneath me I noticed a note in the bottom.
Ellie,
You’ll never guess who was a guest coach today! We told him how you couldn’t come because you were minus a nutsack, and that you were going to kill us just for getting to meet him since he’s your hero, and the guy just handed this over. He’s seriously the coolest! You’d better pick out a sweet ride for us now, since you totally owe us!
Happy Birthday!
Jessie, Josh & Jack
Ps. I was the one who told him about you. I think that deserves all-time shotgun privileges! -Jack
I couldn’t believe it. Who cares if they called me Eleanor Roosevelt? Best. Friends. Ever. I wasn’t angry about anything anymore. In fact, I felt like I was about to cry. I didn’t, of course, but the rest of my day flew by after that.
I no longer cared that I didn’t get my car, and that I had to go to dinner and fireworks with my family. I didn’t even mind that Angela gave me a freaking dress as a birthday present, or the fact that as soon as we got to the city park to see the fireworks she ditched us and left me alone with my parents. In the end, my sixteenth birthday, well it still kind of sucked, but it wasn’t the worst I’d ever had.
Things got a little better the next day too, because my dad got up bright and early with me and took me car shopping. It took hours, but he helped me get a sweet deal and when all was said and done I was the proud new owner of a Jeep Wrangler. Four-wheel drive, baby! Jet-black, removable doors and top... The J’s were going to be squished, but I didn’t care. I was in love.
Even Angela swooned a bit when I pulled into the driveway that evening. “Ooh, shiny!” she crooned. “Let’s get cute and go cruising tonight, Ellie! We could pick up Brooke and Rachel, too. It would be so fun!”
“No way!” Dad said quickly. “It’s Saturday. You girls are not going out tonight.”
“But Dad!”
I’m not sure why the order threw Angela into a panic. I, for one, had been expecting it—Saturday night being serial killer happy hour and all. And besides that, go cruising with her and her friends? In what universe did she think that was going to happen?
Angela launched into a huge hissy over it, though. She looked to me for help, but I just shrugged. “Dude. It’s the UFC prelims tonight.”
“The what?” Angela asked.
I explained as if she were slow. “Ultimate Fighting Challenge preliminaries?”
“Ugh!” Angela scoffed in utter disgust. “You are so hopeless.”
Dad and I had a good laugh when Angela stomped into the house.
Angela locked herself in her room with the cordless phone for a good half an hour, but eventually she joined us in the family room, sighing every so often as she painted her fingernails. “I thought you guys were going to watch some fight,” she said, frowning at the rerun of SportsCenter on the TV.
“Doesn’t start for an hour,” I said.
“And you’re just going to sit here and watch sports talk until it starts?”
“Yup,” my dad and I said in unison.
Angela sighed again and moved on to her toes. When she ran out of her own nails she said, “Ellie, give me your feet.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay your fingernails then.”
“What fingernails?” I asked. Mine were bitten down to the nail beds.
“Fine. Let me do your hair then.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m locked up like a prisoner on a Saturday night, I’m desperately bored, and I just want to see what it would look like.”
My sister had been trying to give me a makeover for practically my whole life. I never thought I’d see the day when I gave in, but something about the morning before-when she’d wanted me to go shopping with her-had stuck with me. I don’t know. It’s almost like, well, like she liked me. Like she wanted to be my friend and not just my evil sister. It had been nice of her to want to make my birthday a little better.
Knowing how hard it must be for her to be grounded on Saturday night for basically no reason, I felt like I owed it to her to return the favor. Instead of “get lost, loser” I glared at Angela and said, “Whatever.” After all, she’d been right about the clothes. And it’s not like anyone was going to see whatever she did to me tonight. It couldn’t hurt to let her do it just this once, right?
Actually, it hurt quite a bit. As soon as I’d agreed, Angela squealed and dragged me off to her bedroom. There was all kinds of scrubbing and pulling and poking and prodding involved, and then she pulled out these tweezers and went after my eyebrows. I never knew that whole “beauty is pain” thing was literal.
Forty-five minutes after she’d started, Angela declared that the only thing left was to put on the dress she’d gotten me for my birthday. It was a strappy, knee-length sundress thing. “Casual but classy” she’d called it.
I’d never worn a dress before in my life. I told her I wasn’t about to start now, but she insisted, saying that if it didn’t fit me then she would give me the receipt and I could take it back and exchange it for something else.
After I broke down and put the freaking thing on, Angela marched me into her bedroom to loo
k in her full-length mirror. She hadn’t allowed me to see myself before now and I was definitely afraid to look.
It wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. She’d gone really subtle with the hair and make up. I still looked like myself, just a cleaned up version of me. At least that’s what I thought anyway, but when Angela dragged me downstairs to show my parents you’d think she’d transformed me into Julia Roberts or something.
My mom gushed so lavishly I thought she might burst into tears. My dad however, after being quite startled, frowned. “Angela,” he said, with a weary sigh. “Is this really necessary?”
“Dad!” Angela gasped.
And even my mom turned on him this time. “Really, Steve, be nice. She looks beautiful. Ellie, you look fantastic.”
Mom and Angela waited for my dad to agree but he just reached up and rubbed his temples like he suddenly had a massive headache.
Almost as if it were fate letting my dad off the hook, the doorbell chose that precise moment to ring. My mom answered it, and when she called for me my heart gave out. Who could possibly be coming to see me now? For the first time since they’d left, I was really glad the J’s were out of town. If not even my own father could handle seeing me like this, then no way they could. They’d probably disown me.
My mother called for me again, and my dad and Angela went to see who it was, but I didn’t move. The only person that could possibly be standing at my door right now was Seth. Mr. Saturday Night Slasher himself. I was not about to let him see me all cleaned up and pretty like some sort of sacrificial virgin being brought to the alter for slaughter.
“Hey Mr. Westley,” I heard someone say.
I knew the voice instantly and was so surprised to hear it in my house that I forgot all about the dress I was wearing. “Dave?” I asked, coming around the corner into the living room.
My dad had been smiling at Dave as he shook his hand. My dad knows Dave fairly well, since he’s played golf with his dad for years. But when Dave saw me he stopped shaking Dad’s hand and his eyebrows went up. Way up. It made my dad’s frown come back.
Behind Dave were Greg and Sanchez. “Westley?” Greg asked, nearly dropping the gum from his mouth, his jaw was hanging so slack.