A Sweet Life-kindle

by Andre, Bella

  “Your point?”

  “My point,” Teeth grating I roll my eyes, “is that moms see no wrong in their children! That’s like asking your biggest fan if they like your new single.”

  “So we’re a band now?”

  “Focus!” I set my coffee down and clapped. “By the way, how are your kids?”

  Kristin gets this starry look in her eyes. “So great. Just this morning they were pointing at the TV and mimicking the dancing. I think they have a real talent for music and—“ Her voice drones on while my eyebrows shoot up in mockery.

  “I hate you.” She slumps. “And okay maybe you’re right.”

  “I’m sorry. What was that?”

  “Not repeating,” Kristin snaps. “So how bad was it… really?”

  I try to hide the shudder, try and fail, then play a few voicemails so she sees how bad it really is.

  “I’m so sorry, Panda. I had no idea!” That’s her pet name for me. Panda. It makes me want to gouge my own eyes out. Comparing me to a fat bear that sits and eats bamboo all day doesn’t boost my self-esteem. She only uses it when she knows she’s in trouble, making me feel even worse for making her feel bad — manipulative friend.

  I throw open my arms and welcome her hug then laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

  “In hindsight, it was a comical situation when you think about it — especially the part where Preston punched him in the face.”

  “Preston?” Her eyes dance with excitement. “You don’t mean the Preston from high school, right? Please don’t tell me it’s that Preston? I mean, it’s the only Preston we know, but… yeah, that would be…”

  “Okay, it’s not that Preston,” I say unconvincingly.

  Her face goes red as she laughs then chokes on her own coffee. “The one you turned down in front of the entire school and lied to? That Preston?”

  Nodding my head, I try to figure out a way to change the subject. This conversation could turn into dangerous territory quickly. You know, territory that involves Kristin going to the firehouse and asking Preston on a date for me and then apologizing on my behalf for not loving Star Wars in high school and for poking fun of him because he did. Kristin's one of those friends who has really good intentions that always seem to go awry. I like to keep her on a short leash. Exhibit A: Derek. Need I say more?

  “Well, does he at least still have those short jeans? Man, the kid showed a lot of ankle.” She takes a sip of coffee and smiles.

  I’m unable to fully explain to her in words exactly what Preston looks like. How does one explain the sun? Or the sky after a beautiful rain? Or a man? So perfect, so beautiful that he’s probably Lucifer dressed in disguise? Hmm?

  Shaking my head no, I lead her to the computer to see Mr. December. Her face turns pale as she looks back and forth between me and the screen in disbelief.

  “Oh hell.” Her response says it all.

  I nod my head in confirmation as she scrolls down the page, her eyes getting wider by the second.

  “Oh, Amanda, look! You can buy the calendar!”

  “Oh, I didn’t see that. Look, a bird!” I point out my window and quickly click out of the webpage.

  “You bought a calendar didn’t you?” Kristin laughs as I push her away from the evidence.

  I shrug and go into the bathroom to get ready. Brad weekend Soccer, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I hated being so far away in college. I may have moved back to a small town, but it had its benefits.

  “Brad says the kids are looking really good.” Kristin calls from the living room. “He also signed on a new coach, says he’s awesome with the little ones, though he did mention something about soccer moms going crazy all over him. Hey, Amanda, maybe—“

  “Do not,” I warn from the bathroom, “finish that thought. No, not happening, no more set ups, no more blind dates. No. Just no.”

  “Fine.” Kristin huffs. “You need a man, Amanda! A cat isn’t a stable relationship! You know what happens. Once you have one, you buy another and another until you have no room for man-candy in your life! Just peanut butter, ice cream, and your Kindle.”

  “Hilarious,” I walk out of the bathroom and jab my finger into the air. “And leave Mrs. Butterworth out of this!”

  Mrs. Butterworth meows on cue and slides between Kristin's legs.

  “It’s touching me, it’s touching me!”

  She doesn’t like things without hair.

  So many things I could say to expound upon that point, but I’ll leave it.

  “Hurry up!” Her eyes are still closed as she clenches her fists at her side and waits for me to shower.

  “Don’t kill my cat while I'm getting ready.”

  “Don’t buy cats that look like ET, and we won’t have a problem.”

  Mrs. Butterworth hisses when she hears ET. It’s like her trigger word. Kind of like how hypnotists snap their fingers and people think they're chickens. I say ET; she hisses. Pretty sure it can be attributed to some late-night DVD watching where ET was on the screen, and Mrs. Butterworth was caught unaware. Either that or Kristin’s been classically conditioning my cat to hate all aliens.

  “Amanda!” Kristin yells. “Seriously, hurry up, I don’t want to be late.”

  “Fine.” I rush into the bathroom and wash my face, not even bothering with makeup. After all, it’s not like I’m going to see Brad Pitt or something.

  ***

  “Oh look, there's Brad!” Kristin waves her husband over and jogs up to meet him.

  I kind of hate them both. Especially when I see how perfect they look together. Kristin ended up staying here in Melba after graduation, married her high school sweetheart, my other best friend, and well, they started popping out kids like it was a contest. The rest is history.

  They’re blissfully happy.

  And beautiful.

  And I hate them.

  But only when I'm cranky.

  I look away from the spectacle of them kissing and yawn. Not one of those sexy yawns. I don’t do sexy. Mouth wide, I inhale as much air as possible and nearly swallow my tongue for a second time in two days, when Preston walks right in front of me and winks.

  Coughing wildly, I wait for air to return to my lungs; instead, nothing happens. It’s like something's caught. Oh my gosh, I did choke on my tongue! I did! Holy shit! I start pounding my chest as stars appear in front of my face. Within seconds, a little kid's screaming about how I’m beating myself and Preston's muscled body is behind me doing the Heimlich.

  The coughing subsides as a piece of black pops out of my mouth.

  What the heck?

  “A bug?” The little kid in front of me gasps. “Mommy, Mommy, she choked on a bug!”

  The rumors are true! I want to scream at the kid while he pees his pants and begs his mom to feed him spinach.

  I want to die.

  Seriously, Lord, prepare the chariot. I’m coming home!

  I’m coming home, I’m coming home. Tell the world that, I’m coming home.

  The Eminem song pops up into my head just as Preston turns me to face him. I wonder if closing my eyes seems immature? Why doesn’t that work anyway? Close your eyes and the world fades away; close your eyes and—

  “Two saves,” Preston grins, “in two days. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I’m kind of like your own personal Avenger.”

  “You’re nothing like Captain America” Voice hoarse, I try to back away from his hands. “More like a Hulk-type of guy.”

  His eyes darken.

  “You know,” I continue. “All brawn, no brains.”

  “Hulk's a doctor, smart ass.” Preston crosses his arms, “What else you got?”

  “I um...” Back away, just back away.

  “Preston!” Brad jogs up to us. “So glad you could make it, man. I know we didn’t have you on the schedule, but—“

  “Schedule?” Kristin and I say in unison.

  “For coaching.” Brad shrugs.

  Kristin gives him the look,
the one universally known by women that means Why the hell aren’t you telling me such valuable information?

  “No problem.” Preston shrugs, “It’s not one of my days at the firehouse, so it worked out.”

  “Brad?” Kristin asks sweetly. “You didn’t tell me you had a new coach.”

  “Yeah,” Brad nods. “I totally did. I said The Pres has been really good for the kids.”

  “The press as in the press, right? Like the newspapers?”

  “What?” It's Brad's turn to look confused. “No, the kids nicknamed Preston The Pres because he was the president of the Star Wars Fan Club in high school.”

  “Guilty.” Preston winks at me.

  I fight not to punch him as embarrassment washes through my entire body. Well aware what he was the president of in high school, everyone. Well aware.

  “And there was a kid getting picked on for wearing a Star Wars shirt…” Brad continues.

  I close my eyes for a second time, willing God to just take me.

  “So Preston told them all a story about how he got rejected in high school, and nobody liked him, and he wore the Star Wars shirts anyway. Kids think he’s a freaking god now. It probably helps that Preston looks like a superhero too.”

  “Aw, thanks man.” Preston fist-bumped Brad.

  “Please stop,” I whisper under my breath.

  “At any rate, they call him The Pres now. Pretty cool, right?”

  Fantastic. Just repeat it again, didn’t hear the first three times.

  “Awesome,” I say, giving Kristin a pleading look as she covers her mouth with her hand to cover her grin.

  “You ready?” Brad starts jogging backward.

  “Sure.” Preston grips my arm. “Give me a minute.”

  Kristin eyes me with sudden interest. It takes all of Brad's strength to pry her away from her spot.

  “So…” I find sudden interest in replacing the messy bun on my head.

  “You okay?” Preston reaches out and tilts my chin toward him. “Seems to me like you’ve had a rough couple of days.”

  “Oh sure.” I sigh. “You know how the life of a celebrity is: constant stalking from ex-boyfriends, treadmill competitions gone awry, bad hair days...” I choke as his smile deepens.

  “It’s okay, you know.” He takes another step closer to me.

  I don’t back up. I don’t really want to.

  “What is?” I say in a hoarse voice.

  “The whole saving-your-life thing.” He tucks a piece of stray hair behind my ear. “I think I’m starting to like it.”

  “Liar.” I breathe.

  “We’ll see.” He steps back.

  I feel the loss immediately and want to scold myself for being so stupid. I hardly know him anymore!

  As he jogs off toward Brad, he turns around and calls back, "Try not to trip over any tree branches while I’m gone. I kind of want my date to be conscious when I ask her out.”

  “Date?” My heart flips in my chest.

  He grins. “I guess we’ll see, huh?”

  “S-sure.” I offer an easygoing smile when really my heart sounds like it’s going to hammer out of my chest and chase after him.

  Right there's a creepy visual I can do without.

  The games end without any catastrophe. No near-death experiences, and, thank God, no Derek. Brad and Kristin decide, naturally without asking me, that we should all go see a movie that afternoon.

  Right after the games.

  I’m about ready to throw the whole “kid” card out there…you know exactly what Im talking about. Whoever will watch your children while you go out and play? Unfortunately, Brad’s dad comes sauntering over and asks if they can take the kids for the afternoon. Stupid helpful parents.

  Even though its November it’s still really nice weather. My jeans are sticking to my thighs and Im pretty sure I smell like outside.

  So I’m gross from sitting in nature.

  Preston is sweaty from running in it, and I'm pretty sure that if I have to sit next to him in a small enclosed space, I may just jump him. Hey, I haven’t kissed a guy in a really long time, so yeah, it’s possible self-control isn’t something I'm exactly practiced in.

  By the time we make it to the movie, Kristin and I discover that not only has Brad been hanging out with Preston for the past three months, THREE MONTHS, but that Preston moved back home after his dad went through cancer treatments, making me feel that much worse about being selfish. But that’s just the thing. How do you dig up the past and apologize to someone when you’re so ashamed of it in the first place?

  We take our seats just in time for the previews to start for the movie. Self consciously I tug at my sweatshirt and do a little sniff to make sure that I don’t still smell like dirt and grass. I sniff again. Yeah, I still smell, but the good news is I maneuvered myself so that I was sitting next to Kristin, which Brad was thrilled about since he and Preston have been bromancing for so long.

  I swear guys are so not detail oriented.

  The movie flashes across the screen. A couple embrace each other and kiss. I fight the urge to look longingly across the aisle and imagine what Preston’s lips would feel like against mine.

  Mid daydream, my text alert goes off.

  Unknown Number: What are you doing?

  Nearly dropping my phone onto the ground, I text back: Um, watching the movie? Who is this?

  Unknown Number: The Hulk.

  I roll my eyes and glance over at Preston. Both Kristin and Brad divide us. He’s looking at his phone and grinning.

  Me: You make me want to scream.

  Hulk: If I had a dollar…

  Me: Hilarious. Go be inappropriate somewhere else.

  Hulk: Ouch, are you always this mean to the guys you like?

  Me: LIKE?!? Have you completely lost your mind? It is taking every ounce of self-control I have to not stab you.

  Hulk: Gotcha. You’re cute when you blush, know that?

  I nearly drop my phone for the second time as I glance at him and watch his eyes darken in approval as he checks me out from head to toe. Right, and if I had a dollar every time a drop-dead sexy guy did that to me, I’d have a dollar and a hamburger from McDonalds. Apparently four years does the body good. Like milk.

  Trying to appear unaffected, I text back.

  Me: Cute’s for little kids on their way to their first day of school.

  Hulk: Fine. You’re sexy, the type of sexy a guy wants to stare at just because he can.

  My breathe hitches.

  Hulk: Then again, the guy staring at you looks to be blind…

  I look up. He points. Sure enough, some old dude is staring directly at me. I wave just to prove he isn’t blind.

  And receive a middle finger in response.

  Preston’s laughter damn-near makes me want to chuck my phone at his face.

  Hulk: There's that blush again. Wow, she blushes when she’s angry and when she’s turned on.

  Why did I pay my cell phone bill this month? If I hadn't paid it, and if I was late like normal, they would have shut it off, and I wouldn’t be dealing with… this!

  Me: Go away.

  Hulk: If I get up and walk past you, I’m pretty sure you’ll try tripping me, and I don’t want to ruin the movie for everyone by face-planting on the cement.

  Me: How cute. You’re aware of my feelings toward you?

  Hulk: Uncomfortably aware.

  Me: Huh?

  Hulk: A date.

  Me: No.

  Hulk: Yes.

  Me: NO!

  Hulk: Has anyone ever told you that you hold a lot of rage for such a small person? What are you, 5’2"?

  Me: 5’3" and yes the extra inch matters. I do not have rage, and if I am angry toward someone, they obviously did something to frustrate me in the first place.

  Hulk: What? Breathe?

  Me: Yes. Please stop breathing.

  Hulk: Whatever. You have issues. Stick with decaf, Panda.

  ME: WHO TOLD YOU TO CALL M
E PANDA?

  Hulk: I love all caps. Everything they represent: rage, anger, the ability to press the little arrow so the letters get big and scary-looking.

  Me: WHO!

  Hulk: Kristin, of course.

  ME: …

  Hulk: What, no response?

  Me: NO, I just have nothing good to say. Don’t call me that, ever. I would never tell her, but I don’t like being referred to as a Panda. They r fat and lazy.

  Hulk: You are anything but that.

  Me: Gee thanks. I want my life back.

  Hulk: What?

  Me: You read me. I want my life back, my life before you started ruining it and being all Decemberish, and swooping in punching things and running next to me, and… you get the picture. I want it back. I’m taking it back. I’m ignoring you from now on!

  With a soothing breath, I pat my phone and stare ahead at the screen. What are we even watching?

  Hulk: Ok.

  Me: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

  Hulk: I thought you were ignoring me.

  I do, in fact, ignore him the rest of the movie but I'm ashamed to admit that I stole a glance in his direction way more times than what's healthy for a twenty-one year old, supposedly mature female. Swear, he caught me at least three times, and each time I felt the heat rush to my face.

  Maybe I should just tell him I'm sorry. It was four years ago? Perhaps he forgot all about the incident? Or maybe he’s just asking me out on a date so he can be the one to reject me. Isn’t that how revenge worked? I mean, I did embarrass him in front of the entire school. Does he even realize how many sleepless nights I had over that ordeal? How many zits? Dark circles?

  It occurs to me that it’s possible I’m living in my own version of Preston karma. I reject him in high school, and my dating life goes to hell immediately after.

  I start to choke on popcorn at the revelation.

  “You okay?” Kristin slaps my back just as the credits start to roll for the movie.

  “Great flick.” Brad stretches.

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  “Says the girl texting the entire time.” Brad rolls his eyes, “Another one of your dates?”

  “No!” I say quickly just as Preston says yes.