by J. Benson
"Do you think you can get a job and keep your grades up? You've never worked before, it could be a lot more stress than you need right now..."
I sighed. "I don't know... I guess I'll use the trust fund. I should maybe go to the mall tonight, and look for some clothes... I bought some the other day, but I'll need more. And I'll need to get myself a laptop for school." I mused. "And books. You can never, ever have too many books, right?"
My grandmother laughed. "That sounds good. Perhaps I'll go with you, if that's alright."
"Of course, gran!" I stood and hugged her tightly.
"And the room upstairs, if you decide you don't like the color or anything, feel free to repaint of do whatever you want up there. The room is yours to do with what you wish. I cleared off the bookshelves in there today so you can put your books there or anything you want."
I smiled, "Thanks, but it suits me just fine, really." I reached for the plate of vegetables and popped another piece of celery into my mouth. I had eaten almost the entire dish myself, but something told me that Grandma had put the vegetables out simply for my enjoyment anyway.
"So with all that out of the way," My grandmother continued, opening the oven to peer in at the lasagna. "Tell me more about your English class."
"It was okay. Well, I've got to do a project already, with this guy in my class..." I couldn't believe I was mentioning this, it wasn't important at all.
"Ahh..." My grandma laughed slyly.
"He wants to come here to work on an assignment, is that okay?"
"Of course, honey!" Grandma smiled. "Anything you want, don't hesitate! I'll look forward to meeting him."
I laughed and hugged her tightly. "Thanks, grandma! Besides, maybe if you're here he won't be so obnoxious. He's kind of a jerk. You know, like your stereotypical jock-slash-popular-guy. He thinks he's like the greatest guy ever. He's entirely conceited." I sighed heavily.
Grandma smile turned to a frown, the corners of her mouth pulling down into a frown. "Is he going to make it difficult to do this assignment? Because maybe if you talk to your teacher she can switch partners with someone else. Your marks shouldn't have to suffer just because your partner is as obnoxious as you say he is."
I drew in a deep breath. "No, I don't think so. I offered to do the entire project myself but he's insisting on helping me. If he's going to be a real jerk about it, I'll talk to the teacher about him. But he seems to be smart enough. He's just got an obnoxious personality."
"Hmm..." Grandma mused for a moment. "More importantly, is he good looking?"
I felt my jaw drop. "Grandma!" I scolded, still unable to hide a smile.
Grandma shrugged. "I'm just saying that you would be surprised how many obnoxious qualities can be absolved by good looks."
"Oh my god." I laughed, "I can't believe we're having this conversation right now."
"Honey, I'm old I'm not dead. I can still look and I can still appreciate the view." She shrugged, grinning.
I felt my face turn a bright shade of red, even though I was laughing through my embarrassment.
"And I take it by the sight of your red face that he is handsome... I'm kind of excited to meet him now. When is he coming over?"
"Oh my God!" I laughed. "Please don't hit on him, Grandma. He doesn't need any more of a reason to be conceited."
Grandma shrugged. "Well, if you don't, maybe I will." Grandma winked at me.
I shook my head, still in disbelief. This was another reason why I loved my grandmother. She could instantly make even the worst days better.
The timer on the oven made a loud buzzing noise and grandma jumped up from the table with the eagerness and agility of someone half her age. "That's dinner!" She crossed the room and opened the oven door, poking at her lasagna with the wooden spoon.
I helped myself to another carrot from the dish. "Is there anything I can help with Grandma?" I asked eagerly.
"Umm... sure, honey. Could you reach down two plates for me? And pour yourself a glass of milk." She instructed.
I reached down the plates and smiled. "You know, water is okay. I don't need to drink milk with every meal." I mused.
"Nonsense." Grandma instructed. "Growing girls need milk. You need calcium. You'll thank me when you're my age and your bones creak and groan mercilessly."
I smiled. "Okay, milk it is then."
"Good." Grandma smiled, taking out a knife and cutting squares of lasagna. She placed a huge helping onto my plate. I poured myself a glass of milk.
"And when we go to the mall, we can stop and get some ice cream after." She announced, then smiled at me slyly. "You know, for the calcium. Growing girls need calcium."
I laughed, carrying both plates of lasagna over to the table. I went to double back for my glass of milk, but Grandma had beaten me to it and was placing the glass next to my plate on the table. I wasn't much of a milk drinker, but I had a feeling that living here I was going to start drinking milk, whether I particularly wanted to or not. I also could sense—based on the amount of food on my plate—that I was going to gain a few pounds.
Maybe gym class wasn't such a bad idea.
Chapter 7:
Compromise
Grandma's trunk was almost completely filled with new clothes and school supplies by the time I discovered there was a bookstore in the mall. Malls were still a strange concept to me. In most places in New York, it was easier to just jump on public transit, take a taxi or drive to each store individually. Many of the streets were lined with store fronts, none of which were interconnected like a mall. It seemed strange, but convenient to have one place where a person could get everything they needed.
Once I stepped into the bookstore, I nearly forgot everything else that had happened that day. Simply by browsing the sale section, I managed to collect an arm load of books that I could barely carry. I had owned a large collection of books at home in New York, but being here I needed to start over. And keeping your nose in a book seemed like the perfect way to be anti-social and not have to talk to anyone at school.
I wandered the aisles until I found the poor excuse for a poetry section. The poetry section in this particular book store was a pathetic two bottom shelves in a back corner. I glanced around quickly and without a second thought, dropped down to my knees to examine the bottom shelf where a handful of books laid. I browsed the titles, recognizing most of the authors.
I ran my fingers slowly along the smooth spines of the books until I found a poet I recognized.
I slipped the book from the shelf and turned it over in my hands carefully, like it was a prized gem I couldn't risk scuffing with my fingerprints. It was a book of poetry by a single poet. I flipped through the pages, looking for a poem or something that caught my eye.
I was only on the third page when I heard a voice just above me. "That's a terrible book. His older work is much better."
In shock, I glanced over and for the first time noticed a pair of denim clad legs standing next to me. The jeans ended in a pair of beat up red chucks. I followed the legs up to a taught torso, leaning casually against the book shelves with his arms folded over his chest. It was Taylor.
"Although if you ask me, I'm more of a fan of his music than of his poetry." Taylor shrugged. "I saw him on TV late one night and he sang and it gave me chills. The guy is like a hundred years old and he gets on stage and just gives it like it'll be the last time he'll ever sing in his life. A true musician."
"Are you stalking me now?" I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him. I purposely ignored his commentary.
"What? No! This was purely a coincidental encounter I assure you." He grinned crookedly at me. "I saw you on your knees and thought you had fallen on your face or something. I came to help. You know, like the perfect gentleman that I am, I came to rescue a damsel in distress." He said smugly.
"I'm sure you came rushing over here to help me, instead of laughing in my face." I rolled my eyes and coldly added, "I'm fine thank you."
"Clearly you're not fine
, if you're reading that book." He said pointedly.
"I happen to like his poetry, thank you." I replied icily, turning the page in the book. I wasn't exactly a fan. I liked a few of his songs, but I had yet to find a poem I liked.
"His earlier work is far better." Taylor continued. "This book is very contrived... unless you like pictures of crudely drawn naked women and terribly written sentence fragments. Face it, after the sixties; he just kind of lost his magic. His music is still good though, I'll give him that."
This adaptation intrigued me. I arched one eyebrow in shock. These were precisely my views on his later work. I turned away from him and carefully placed the book back on the shelf.
Taylor reached down to offer me his hand in standing, but I ignored it, and pushed myself up with both my hands on the floor. I was standing at eye level with him abruptly.
He shrugged helplessly and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"So what are you doing here?" He asked me. "Just hanging out or shopping?" He asked curiously.
"I'm shopping. Why would anyone go to a mall if they weren't shopping? What a colossal waste of time." I answered. I was honestly confused by his question. I didn't understand wandering aimlessly around the mall if you weren't planning on buying something.
Taylor smirked. "Well, do you want to grab a cup of coffee or something? We can talk about the assignment." He offered.
I would have killed for a cup of coffee. But I wasn't going to entertain him in the slightest. "I can't. I have to meet my grandmother. She's here in the mall and we're supposed to meet up soon." I replied. I wasn't exactly lying; I did have to meet up with my grandmother, but not for another fifteen minutes.
"Oh, alright." He sounded suddenly dejected, but I couldn't be entirely sure. Taylor quickly continued, "I totally get that. I'm here with my brother Ethan. He's hitting on the barista at Starbucks. He's the one who wanted to come here--not going to lie, mostly to hit on the barista--but I should really go and find him before she calls security... again." Taylor rolled his eyes.
I shrugged, wrapping my arms around myself. It was time to be the bigger person here, as much as it pained me to do so.
"Listen, about this upcoming assignment." I continued. "Can you come over tomorrow night? I'd like to get it finished as soon as possible." I wanted to add that the sooner we got the assignment done and over with, the sooner I could go back to hiding with my nose stuck in a book. And the sooner I could stop talking to Taylor.
"Sure." He smiled. "Glad you've finally come around."
"I haven't come around to anything." I replied, "I just want to get the thing over with. Do you want me to pick you up?" I asked.
"No, I should have my car by then. Where do you live again? Oakland Street, right?"
I nodded. "I think its house number ten-forty-eight."
Taylor frowned. "Big yellow house? Big porch on the front?"
I nodded. "Yeah, that's it. Do you know it?"
"Mrs. Hatfield's house?" He asked curiously.
"She's my grandmother." I said hesitantly.
"I know it well. I used to cut her grass in the summer to make extra cash." He chuckled. "You're so lucky. Mrs. Hatfield makes the best chocolate chip cookies I've ever had in my entire life."
I tried to imagine this pretty boy sweating in the afternoon sun behind an old push lawn mower, and couldn't. I couldn't imagine him doing any kind of manual labor. I could however imagine him sitting in my grandmother's kitchen and greedily devouring his weight in cookies.
"I should go, then." I replied, tucking my hair behind my ear. "I've got to meet my gran in twenty minutes."
"Tell her I said hello." He grinned and disappeared between the bookshelves. I breathed a sigh of relief now that he was gone.
I sighed heavily. It was just my luck to be caught on my hands and knees on the floor of a bookstore, by the one person I was trying to avoid.
I proceeded to the check out with my arm load of books before setting off to find my grandmother. I found my grandmother coming out of a clothing store. By the looks of it, she hasn't bought a thing.
"Emma, sweetheart!" Grandma smiled hugely upon seeing me.
"Hi." I smiled.
"You're early. Did you get everything done that you needed to do?" She asked.
"Yeah. And more." I replied. I held up a huge bag of books. "I just spent more than I should on books." I announced.
Grandma smiled. "Well, you can never have too many books. And there are worse ways to spend your money... I mean, at least you didn't spend it all on drugs."
I shook my head, laughing. We reached the food court, and I glanced around. I recognized the names of a few of the fast food chains, but there were some I'd never heard of. I somehow managed to find myself tailing behind my grandmother, who was chatting away eagerly as if I were right next to her. I had to jog a few steps to catch up.
Before long, we were standing in front of an ice cream bar, and perusing the different flavors. Grandma was talking to the woman behind the counter and asking questions about the current flavor on special. I couldn't make up my mind, but I finally decided on a chocolate strawberry sherbet in a cup instead of a cone. Grandma chose a walnut flavor in a cone. We found a bench and sat together to eat our ice cream.
Grandma chatted about her day and I listened while I glanced around the food court. I watched a few people wander aimlessly, and a couple who seemed to be having a massive fight in the middle of the food court. I tried not to look directly at them.
I scanned the crowd of people and noticed a Starbucks not too far away. For a moment, I squinted in disbelief. I could see Taylor leaning impatiently against the counter. He was checking his phone and glancing around.
I recognized his older brother Ethan from the day I had driven Taylor home. He was leaning on the counter and grinning at the barista. He was clearly flirting, and the blonde behind the counter was obviously flirting back.
Taylor suddenly looked up from his phone, and I quickly looked away. But it was too late. He'd caught my eye, and waved. He was grinning at me hugely, and when I didn't immediately wave back, he exaggerated the movement, waving his arm wildly over his head.
I finally smiled back politely and offered a small, inconspicuous wave. I went back to my ice cream, and paid more attention to my Grandmother telling me about her day playing cards with her seniors group.
I glanced around again, trying to make it less obvious that I was looking for Taylor. He was still standing at the Starbucks, but he was definitely looking back at me. And he was definitely smiling at me.
I finished what was left of my ice cream, and placed the cup and spoon in the nearby trash can. Grandma was just starting to eat the cone of her ice cream cone.
"I guess it's kind of silly," Grandma was saying, "To be eating ice cream when it's so chilly outside.... But sometimes you just deserve a treat. And besides, starting a new high school is a reason to celebrate." Grandma smiled at me, patting my knee.
"And more importantly." I replied. "Surviving your first day at a new high school is even more of a reason to celebrate."
Grandma laughed softly. "Absolutely." She polished off the rest of her ice cream and tossed most of the cone into the garbage. I wanted to ask why she had bothered getting her ice cream on a cone if she was just going to throw it out anyway, but I didn't press the issue.
"Oh." I said, fishing in my pocket. "I have your car keys." I held them out to her.
"You keep them. You can drive home." Grandma insisted.
"Really?" I asked. "You trust me with your car?"
Grandma smiled warmly. "Of course I do. If you can drive on the mean streets of New York City, you can drive here... just... you know, watch out for tractors and cows."
I laughed, tucking my hair behind my ear, and subtly glancing over my shoulder to see if Taylor was still at the Starbucks. He had his back to me, fervently arguing with his brother.
"Besides, you're going to need the practice. And this way you'll know
how to get to and from the mall should you ever need to come back on your own." Grandma shrugged.
"Oh, good idea." I replied. We walked together out of the mall and to the car. I climbed into the driver's seat and began adjusting the mirrors and the seat. Grandma slid into the passenger's seat. I finally noticed that the only thing she was carrying was her purse.
"You didn't buy anything?" I asked.
"Nope. I didn't see anything I liked." She replied earnestly. "Besides, I only came along for moral support." She smiled.
I started the car and backed from the parking space. With her directions, I managed to find my way back to her house. There was no doubt in my mind that I would have never made it if it weren't for her directions. I carried all of my things inside, even though Grandma offered to help.
I spent the remainder of my evening learning to use my grandmother's washing machine and dryer to wash my new clothes. In New York, I had always sent my clothes out for cleaning, or at the very least, there was a house cleaner around to wash my clothes. But in the spirit of new-found independence, I took the time to learn, even though grandma offered to help and wash my clothes for me.
I neatly folded my clothes, hanging each individual item in the small closet. I arranged these items by color and then alphabetized them by color simply for lack of anything better to do. The closet was considerably smaller than my closet in New York, but by the time I had everything put away, I hadn't even filled half of it. I had bought only what I thought I would need for a week at school, determined not to use more of my mother's money than necessary.
The clothes I had purchased were solid, muted colors, devoid of any kind of print or clothing label. I wanted to blend in, not stand out. I purchased multiple items that I could mix and match, mainly in black and blue, with the exception of one white shirt, which I felt was a staple.
I bought myself three pairs of pajamas, picked out solely for comfort purposes, not for style or pattern.
The one exception I made to my new frugal lifestyle was a new laptop. I had had the same one back in New York and knew I needed one for school.