Keep Me in Mind
Page 11
“Maybe some other time. So, back to you and your schoolwork,” I began. “If you need catching up, I can tutor you.”
Her eyes grew wider and shimmered with hope. “Really?”
I felt a rush of hope myself. “Sure. We can meet up at the public library after school. What subjects are you having trouble with?”
“Math, History, and English.”
I looked skyward and laughed to myself. It still wasn’t a song with our names, but fate was definitely at work here.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“I happen to be in advanced placement classes for all three of those subjects. So I’m perfect for you.” The statement came out with more meaning than I intended it to, and that fact didn’t go unnoticed by Ellia.
She made a face at me then began a slow stroll to the exit again. “Okay, we can try and do something this weekend. Let’s say Saturday at one. You can pick me up.”
Whoa! Bad idea. I had to think fast. “Um … better yet, why don’t I pick you up at Stacey’s house?”
“What’s wrong with my house?”
Oh, nothing. It’s a lovely home—except for the grown-ups who live there. “I don’t want to upset anyone by showing up.”
She waited for a follow-up to that answer. When none came, she asked, “My folks don’t like you, do they? They know that we dated, but they never talk about you.”
I nodded. “Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that.”
“Why? You saved my life.”
“Because they still hate me. Our dads had it out the one time we stayed out late and your dad threatened to call the cops if I came near you again. And then after the accident, my dad freaked out and that’s why he doesn’t want me around you people—as in, your family.”
“Oh.” Ellia paused, biting her lip, and then her mouth dropped open. “Oh my god! Are we in some secret forbidden romance that our folks don’t approve of? The Montagues versus the Capulets? Crips versus Bloods? Vampires versus werewolves?”
“Not that bad,” I said. “Your parents thought you could do better than someone like me.”
“I’m sure I can, but that’s up for me to decide, not them.” She stared off for a moment, as if debating about what to do next. “Let’s meet up at the park instead. I don’t want to be cooped up inside. They’ve got picnic tables so we can work.”
“Sounds like a plan. So do we have a date or what?” I asked, fighting a smile.
“I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just work. No touching, no kissing, no funny business. We’ll see where it goes from there.” I nodded, and she said, “I’d better go before my mom comes inside. Later.”
“Was the kiss bad?” I called after her.
Her head whipped in my direction. “I didn’t say that.”
I did a little victory dance in my head. “So it was good?”
“Good or bad, it was unwelcomed. Don’t do it again.”
The demand was sharp, but lacked the sting that came with her anger. She could deny it all she wanted, but the kiss had been potent. Still, I didn’t want to scare her or risk losing the ground I’d gained.
“I promise. From now on, I’ll let you initiate the kissing and anything else you have in mind. You don’t even have to ask. Just go for it.”
She held my gaze for a long time, gauging my sincerity. “Good to know.” She waved and made her way to the main doors.
* * *
I spent the rest of that afternoon in my room, tapping away at my computer. Seeing Ellia again left me oddly inspired, and I had to ride that wave of creativity before it passed.
Unfortunately, Wade busted into my room without knocking. I could’ve kicked myself for not locking the door.
“Hey, Liam! Your mom called,” he announced.
“Tell her I’ll call her later,” I replied without looking up.
“I wouldn’t have to do that if you answered your cell phone,” he said.
“Whatever. Too busy to chat. She should know what that’s like.”
Wade didn’t bother to touch that one, so he got to the real reason he entered my room. “You using the car tonight?”
“Nope. Go ahead.” I waved him away, hoping he would leave.
“Whatcha working on?” he asked.
“Something for school,” I lied. “Make sure you fill the tank back up when you’re done.”
“Don’t I always?”
The idiocy of the question was enough to force me to stop typing and turn around to shoot daggers at him. I immediately regretted it, because he stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a very small towel. “Jeez, man! Put some clothes on, will ya?”
“What? I like to air-dry.” He grinned and wiggled a Q-tip into his left ear.
He was going hardcore with the hygiene and aftershave, so I assumed he had a date. It was good to see him competing in the dating Olympics again. The problem was that Wade wanted the real deal, not just some fly-by-night fling like he had with what’s-her-face. He’d never admit it, but back before the accident, I’d see the longing in his eyes whenever Ellia and I were together. My girl wasn’t what he coveted, but the relationship itself.
“Who’s the unfortunate victim?” I asked him.
Wade flicked the Q-tip into my trash can next to my bed. His perfect aim was the only reason he was allowed to keep breathing. “If you must know, it’s Kendra Bailey. We hit it off at the Valentine’s dance, so we’re gonna hang out tonight on the promenade; maybe see a movie.”
I did a double take. “Really? Kendra?”
He stood up straight at my response. “What? She’s cute.”
“Adorable,” I agreed. “But so are puppies and five-year-olds. And no offense, but you don’t seem like the nurturing type.”
“So what advice can you give me?” He leaned against the door frame and crossed his legs. “What’s it like dating a black girl?”
“The same as any other girl,” I replied with disparagement. “You’ll have differences, but don’t make it a mission to point them all out. Don’t undermine her social views simply because they don’t line up with yours. Ask questions, listen and learn, but most of all: Be yourself. Don’t act fake or talk in a certain way to be ‘relatable.’ You’ll just look stupid. And switch colognes. You smell like a tire shop.”
To my surprise, he was actually listening. And if my eyes weren’t deceiving me, he appeared nervous. He’d been rubbing sweaty palms onto his towel and fidgeting with his wet hair through this entire dating seminar.
“So I should just be … myself?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Why was this such a hard concept to grasp?
Although, I acted the same way when I started crushing on Ellia. I spent an entire weekend watching movies and TV shows so we’d have stuff to talk about. That Monday, I went to her locker, excited to share what I discovered. It took three days and numerous unanswered phone calls to realize just how stupid and out of touch I really was. It was a painful lesson I learned quickly, and if I could spare someone else that kind of embarrassment then it was worth it.
“Just be yourself, Wade,” I told him again. “Adding anything else insults you both. Trust me.”
He nodded. “All right. But if this date tanks, then I’m coming after you.”
“Oh no. I have soiled myself for fear of your impending vengeance,” I replied in a flat tone, then turned back to my desk. “Now would you please put some clothes on? I’m going blind over here.”
“Jealousy is an ugly emotion, nephew,” he said before a damp cloth landed on my head, blocking my view from the computer screen. Roguish laughter drifted out of the room as the door closed behind me.
Shuddering at the thought of where the towel had just been, I plucked it off with the tips of my fingers and flung it across the room. I pushed my plot for revenge to the side, and dove back into my story. Without meaning to, Wade had actually reminded me of something I’d wanted to write about: my first date with Ellia.
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Everyone hung out at what was locally known as “the Plaza” on the weekends. It was one of those town centers that just popped up out of nowhere with shops, cafes, and a cool laser tag arcade. I was to meet Ellia in front of the multiplex. Since I spent most of the homecoming dance people-watching by the wall, we hadn’t had much time together. Her countless friends kept pulling her aside to talk and I kept stepping on her feet whenever she dragged me onto the dance floor. Staring at a giant monitor in the dark would cause the least damage, and she agreed on meeting up alone. No chaperones. No third wheel.
“So what time does the movie end?” Before I could answer, Dad said, “’Cause I expect you to be standing out here by eleven thirty.”
I pointed to the ice cream parlor on the corner. “Can you drop me off here?”
The shop rolled past my window as he asked, “Why? They’ve got a drop zone right in front.”
“I know.” I sunk down in my seat. The man couldn’t have been this out of the loop. Apparently he was, because he not only pulled up in front of the movie theater, he leaned over my seat to peep at my date.
“Is that her?” Dad pointed to the girl sitting by the water fountain. “She’s pretty.” He had the audacity to wave.
“Yeah, that’s Ellia.” If I sank any lower in my seat, I would’ve been on the floor. I had to make a run for it.
I opened my door and barreled out of the truck, unaware of the automatic seat belt across my chest. My legs kicked from under me and I fell flat on my butt. My hands tugged at the killer strap at my throat while I sprawled halfway in and out of the car. Worst of all, Ellia was staring right at me. She looked concerned and rose to her feet to assist in my humiliation.
No, don’t help me; just let me die here on the curb.
“Real smooth, son. You’ve definitely got the McPherson swagger.” Dad chuckled menacingly behind me, and for a brief second I thought he was going to take off with me halfway in the truck. Finally, I was able to wiggle free. I stood up, straightened my clothes, and smoothed back my hair just as Ellia approached.
She wore tight blue jeans and a matching fur-lined jacket. She regarded me and then the death trap on wheels. “You a’ight?”
“Yeah. I’m good. Childproof locks, you know?” I glanced behind me and saw Dad still parked on the curb with the engine running. I tried to shoo him off, but he kept grinning and gave me a thumbs-up.
“Is that your dad?” She stooped down and waved at the lunatic in the window.
I turned away from the Blazer, denying its existence. If I didn’t see it, the vehicle wasn’t still sitting there. Very simple logic. “Nope. That’s, um, someone else.”
“Such a terrible liar.” She smirked. “My dad dropped me off like five minutes ago. You just missed him. Relax, Liam. Stop trying to try. You just look silly.” She hooked her arm in mine and I smiled. I expected her to crack jokes or call me a loser, but she clung to my arm all the way to the ticket booth.
While waiting in line, I skimmed the movie titles on the screen behind the clerk. There was only one movie out that I was interested in seeing, but I decided to let Ellia take the lead. “So what movie did you want to see?”
“I was waiting on you,” she replied.
“Oh. Okay.” I scanned the list again. “We can see Mama Big Ton’s Reunion.”
She unhooked her arm from mine and stepped in front of me. “Before this goes any further, there are some things you should know about me. I don’t do lowbrow. Just because it’s a black film, doesn’t mean it’s a good black film. I’m not about to watch a guy in a fat woman suit making stupid fart jokes. I’m not that chick.”
This was useful information because I was flying blind, and last time I tried to be “down,” she ignored me for a week.
“What about the one with the bank robbers?” I suggested, and I was floored by the smile on her face.
“Sure. I’m known for a little scheming myself.” She winked at me then inched up the line when it began to move.
“Wait. It’s an R-rated movie. We can’t see it without an adult.”
“Says who?” she said then stepped to the guy in the ticket booth. He had straight, blue-black hair that covered one eye, a lip and nose piercing, and tattoos running along his arms. He looked in his early twenties, maybe a college student.
Ellia smiled at him. “Hey, Squid.”
“Hey, El.” He tipped his head. “I’m still waiting for that date.”
“And I’m still waiting for that to be appropriate,” she quipped and slid the money through the ticket window. “Two for The Counterfeit Game, please.” When he started to protest, she added, “Come on. Just this once.”
“You said that the last three times,” he grumbled then printed out the tickets anyway.
I had a ton of questions and I was more than certain Squid wasn’t that guy’s real name, though his name tag suggested otherwise.
With a smile and a wink to the clerk, Ellia collected our tickets and headed toward the theater entrance.
I dashed in front of her to open the door. “Who was that?”
She glanced back at the booth then replied, “That was Danny. He graduated from León two years ago. Everybody calls him Squid.”
“Why?”
“You didn’t see all the ink on his arms?” she asked then slipped through the opened door.
It took a minute, but it finally dawned on me. “Oh! I get it. Tattoos. Ink. Squid.”
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Even people who didn’t go to León had at least heard about Ellia Dawson, and I found all the hype to be a bit intimidating.
“So he’s a friend?” I asked her on our way to the lobby.
“Yup.”
“You have a lot of those,” I noted.
“I know,” she agreed then paused to look up at me. “But very few remain that way.”
There was something kind of sad about that statement, but she didn’t elaborate.
A giant bucket of popcorn and two fountain drinks later, we claimed a pair of seats in the middle row of a semipacked theater. By the time the trailers appeared on the screen, I came to the sound conclusion that I was falling for this girl. Ellia didn’t do the dainty thing with her food; she shoveled handfuls of popcorn in her mouth. She took charge of the drinks selection and had the Sprite/fruit punch ratio down to a science. Her scent alone—clean and fruity—had me seeing stars.
The plot of the movie was pretty standard: The ex-con who tried to go legit was pressured to do one last job to save his kidnapped girlfriend. The dialogue was atrocious, the acting was even worse, but the stunts were top rate. It was an R movie, so I knew there would be some sort of love scene thrown in for no reason.
When the soft music played and the actors got that look in their eyes, I suddenly found the walls and floor particularly fascinating. Unable to take the tension, I headed for the bathroom.
My butt had barely vacated the seat when Ellia whispered, “You do that, too?”
I paused mid-row scoot. “Do what?”
“Mush dodging,” she whispered, then took a sip of her drink. “Whenever you’re watching a movie with other people and a love scene comes on, you take a bathroom break, fast forward, or mess around with your phone—anything to avoid the awkwardness.”
So true, but what did a person say to that? I went with, “Umm.”
“Don’t feel bad. I do it, too, especially when I’m watching a show with my parents. Come sit back down. I got an idea.”
I couldn’t just stand in the middle of the row, blocking the screen, so I slowly and reluctantly obeyed.
She dug in her pocket then pulled a ten-dollar bil
l from her wallet. “We’re gonna sit and watch this entire scene. No flinching, no looking away, and the first person to break out in laughter loses ten bucks. Deal?”
“Deal.” I settled back into the seat and waited for the movie to do its worst. I didn’t wait long—as I said, the plot was standard.
The couple kissed on screen. The music swelled. And the awkwardness climbed to new heights. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ellia bunching her lips together and shuddering from suppressed amusement.
“Why is this so weird?” Her voice sounded strained as she tried not to giggle.
“I don’t know. It just is.”
Out of nowhere, her hands took hold of my face and pulled it to hers. The next thing I knew, our mouths collided in an atomic blast that scattered all the molecules in my body. Her lips, soft and full, pulled me in. Our heads turned, our noses mashed together as we tailored our mouths to that perfect fit.
When we pulled away, the scene had ended, but I was more interested in the one offscreen. Ellia’s eyes shimmered in the dark as she smiled back at me.
“You cheated,” I whispered.
“I’m a sore loser. Sue me.” She pecked my nose.
We laughed nervously, giddy and uncertain of what to do next. This time I took the lead. I pushed the armrest aside and scooted closer. Her arms wrapped around my neck and her lips met mine with an impatience that took my breath away.
I’d lost all interest in the movie. I had no idea how it ended or who died. We had our own show playing out and we made it just in time to catch the beginning. I didn’t want to miss a single minute.
Pacing the floor, biting my nails, and changing my outfit for the third time did nada to preoccupy me. I was supposed to meet Liam in twenty minutes, and this countdown to doomsday had me sweating bullets and applying an extra coat of deodorant. I searched around my room for a solution, an exit, a weapon, but the only options were discarded clothes and art supplies.
I glanced at Vivian. I’d dressed her in a peasant blouse and skirt with a beaded emerald sash around her waist. I was going for a gypsy fortune-teller look, but she couldn’t predict how this day would go, either. I looked away.