“For somebody who knows a lot, you don’t seem to know anything important.” Scott muttered and then frowned. “Sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
Angie heard a dry chuckle escape her. “No, you’re right. At least we can agree on something.”
July 30,
I had my chance to suck up to Scott’s mother last night. I made us dinner; grilled chicken over angel hair pasta. Fortunately, she really seemed to like it. I think I may have worked my way into her good graces at last. Now if only I could stay there.
I spent part of the evening talking to Vince. He wanted to know how I feel about him before he actually makes the trek to Minnesota. I think that’s reasonable...I just couldn’t quite answer him. I don’t know what to do. Part of me still thinks that this will wear off and Vince will find someone more practical to be with. Maybe I’m just being cynical. There’s another part of me that so wants to believe him. I have this feeling that somehow a lot is riding on Vince and his true degree of determination. It’s just hard for me to believe that I could possibly be worth all this trouble I’ve caused him. I think I’m scared. I wish God would just tell me what I should do.
Vince and I didn’t get to finish talking. Scott came outside, got angry, and stormed off to buy cigarettes. I didn’t try to stop him, it was his choice. I ended up following him and watching him chain smoke for a few hours. We talked. I cried. He kept offering me a cig, for some reason. He told me again that he’s in love with me. (Thinking about it now actually makes me mad. I don’t know how he can claim to love me and then act the way he’s been acting.) We talked until the sun came up, and at one point, he told me he’d quit smoking and drinking and clean up for my sake. That just seems so immature. It was like he was blackmailing me with his health. I feel so awful for hurting Scott, but at the same time, the whole experience reassured me that I’m not supposed to be with him. At least I’m sure about something now.
I only got to nap for a few hours this morning before Scott woke me up to apologize for his behavior. Evidently, trying to record things in his journal gave him some new perspective. We’re back on the same page about staying ‘just friends.’
~Ang
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Vince asked for the third time since discovering how little sleep Angie was running on. She’d attempted to gloss over her explanation of the night before, but he’d used their newly-instated honesty policy to extract most of the details.
“I’m fine—stop worrying.” Angie said, shifting the phone to her other ear. She’d lost count of how many times she’d circled the miniature willow tree while they talked. The grass laid flat along the path she’d been pacing.
“I can’t help it.” Vince sighed. “You’re twelve hours away and sleep deprived, on top of being manipulated by that son of a—”
“It’s mostly my fault. I shouldn’t have gotten myself into this mess.”
“You’re letting him off too easy.”
“At least it’s straightened out now.” Angie eased down to sit at the base of the tree, tracing her fingers down along one of its slender, drooping limbs.
“Don’t be so sure.” Vince sounded wary. “You’re hard to give up. I should know.” He hesitated before adding, “I don’t think you should spend any more time alone with him.”
Angie smiled to herself over Vince’s caution. “That won’t be an issue. He’s spending all of his time with his friends now. They’re even staying over every night until we leave.”
Vince seemed to consider this at length. “Okay.”
“So you’re going to stop worrying?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She feigned a sigh. “Well, I’m a little worried about you, too. Don’t you have work in the morning?”
“It’s morning now,” he pointed out.
Angie frowned. “I should probably let you go, then.” But it was the last thing she wanted to do.
“I’d rather pass out listening to your voice.” Vince’s tone eased into weary humor. “Just know that if I start snoring, it’s not a sign of how interesting I find you.”
She chuckled. “Seriously, we both need to catch up on sleep.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, begrudgingly.
“Call me tomorrow?”
“Of course.” His voice warmed. “But before you go, I have a question.” He paused. “I’m not trying to pressure you—I just have to know for sure. Is what we have a friendship...or a relationship?”
Angie laid herself back in the grass and stared up through the willow branches at the night sky, taking a steadying breath. Her heart rate shot up as though she’d just run a mile.
Time to make a big-girl decision, she mused. Please, let it be the right one.
“I’ve given that a lot of thought,” she began, offering her reasoning as it came to her. “I don’t know if we could make it work, Vince. I’m scared we’re too young to be this serious. I’m scared of both of us getting hurt.” Her eyes tracked from star to star as she made the admission. “I’m scared of a lot of things, and I hate that. It was part of the reason I went on this trip in the first place. I don’t want to keep running away from things just because I’m afraid of failing,” she went on, calm realization settling over her.
“There’s so much I don’t know, I think it’s been distracting me from what I do know. I know you have a good heart, an amazing mind, and the potential to do great things. I know I respect so many things about you. And...I like who I am when I’m around you.” She felt a smile forming on her face as she gathered her courage. “I guess what I’m trying to say is—if you’re still sure about this—then I suppose we can give it a try.”
The other end of the line was silent for so long, Angie began to wonder if her rambling had put him to sleep. She cupped the receiver closer to her lips. “Vincent?”
Vince spoke at last, voice faltering. “Is that...were you trying to say no?”
Angie suppressed a surprised laugh. “I was -trying- to say yes!” she stressed, laughing. “You really are tired, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” He released a quiet chuckle, along with the breath he’d been holding. “And maybe just too used to bad news.”
She sensed an innate gentling to her tone, “I’m sorry, I know I made this hard on you.” A thought occurred to her then, and a nervous laugh spilled out as she added, “You know I’m still not going to sleep with you, right?”
“I can deal with that.” His answer came quick and sober. “Sex isn’t love.”
His sincerity stunned her. Closing her eyes against the stinging threat of tears, she whispered, “I just don’t understand why you would put yourself through all of this.”
“Because, you’re worth it.” Vince said, with an air of simple certainty. “I don’t know if I’m what’s best for you...but I want to be. I want to make you happy.”
Angie considered his words at length before a question surfaced. “Why does...my happiness matter?”
Vince answered in a pensive tone. “I have this feeling that, if you’re happy, it would make God happy. And if I could have a hand in making -both- of you happy—” She heard the smile in his voice. “That just seems like the best thing in the world to me.”
He paused then, and his confidence seemed to waver. “Think that’s weird?”
“I think...your heart is in the right place.” Angie smiled to herself, going over and over his words in her mind. “But now that that’s settled, will you be able to get some sleep?”
“My chances have never looked better,” Vince said, voice heavy with contentment. “Goodnight, Angel.” Without hesitating he added, “I love you.”
Angie caught herself just short of returning the sentiment.
Too soon.
She wanted to — the desire strained at her heart like an unfulfilled need. But her mind told her she’d delved far enough into the unknown for one night. Instead, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Goodnight...my Vincent.”
>
Chapter 31
On the morning of the final leg of Angie’s trip, she emerged from the basement early to bid farewell to Scott’s friends. She found them all together in the kitchen. Scott and his best friend, Andre, were engrossed in an animated discussion about Samurai swords, while Kristy sat at the table picking at a bowl of cereal. The girl’s round, mousy features lit up at the sight of Angie.
“Hey lady! I was afraid I wouldn’t get to say goodbye,” Kristy said. Behind oval-rimmed glasses, blue-green eyes held the warmth of a tropical lagoon. Her short, ash-brown hair was mussed, as though she’d run her fingers through it and nothing more. Angie had enjoyed her conversations with the talkative girl. She’d even considered exchanging contact information so they could keep in touch, but concern over forging additional connections to Scott gave her cause to reconsider.
“You poor thing. How long have you been drowning in testosterone?” Angie offered a wry smile as she sat across from the girl, acknowledging the other two with a nod.
“Like, half an hour.” Kristy rolled her eyes. “Seriously, I think I’m turning Japanese.” She produced a school yearbook from the backpack she’d brought with her, laying it open to a particular page and turning it around for Angie to see. “You know how I was telling you about Darrel? That’s him! I forgot I had this with me.” She tapped a neon-green fingernail over the photo of a strapping young man wearing a blue letter jacket.
Angie gave the picture a quick study. “Ah, yep. Easy on the eyes.” She nodded, humoring the girl’s apparent fixation. In their conversation the previous day, Kristy had carried on about Darrel for almost an hour, going so far as to ask opinions on different combinations of his last name with hers. While Angie suspected the infatuation might be one-sided, she wasn’t about to squash her new friend’s girlish enthusiasm.
“He’s perfect.” Kristy hugged the book to her chest. “Did I tell you we’re going to the same college this fall? He even told me we should pick some of the same classes so we can study together. That has to be a good sign, right?”
“That sounds…promising,” Angie said, feeling unqualified to be making any sort of assessment. She heard Scott and Andre snickering, and wondered why the tone of their conversation had changed. In her peripheral vision she caught the guys looking at them. Kristy didn’t seem to notice.
Angie steered the conversation to college, a subject that gave her more assurance in her own first-hand knowledge. After several minutes there was a knock at the door, announcing Kristy’s ride had arrived. Andre and Scott continued their hushed exchange as she left, smothering their laughter when Angie gave them a curious look. Andre went home shortly thereafter, and Angie followed them both to the front door.
“What was so funny?” she asked the moment the door closed behind Andre.
Scott smirked to himself as he walked past her through the foyer, shaking his head. “It’s just an inside joke. You wouldn’t get it.”
Angie didn’t know whether to take his words as a challenge, or as a confirmation that the ‘joke’ was about her. “Try me.”
“Nah, it’s not your kind of humor.” He kept walking, moving into the dining area where he set about packing up his laptop. Angie trailed after him, annoyed by his sudden elusiveness.
“Is it about me?”
“Nope.” Scott shook his head, grimacing under her insistent stare. “It’s just something with Kristy, that’s all.”
“What about her?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Just tell me, I feel left out.” Angie folded her arms and tapped her foot.
“She’s just kinda crazy, that’s all.” Scott shrugged, slipping the computer into his backpack. He chuckled then as if he’d remembered something amusing. “She thinks Darrel actually likes her. We’ve all been buddies with Darrel since elementary school, and trust me, he’s not into girls like her. We tried telling her that for years, but she wouldn’t listen—just kept doing his homework for him and living her little fantasy.”
Angie allowed confusion to cloud her expression as she stood by, awaiting the punch line.
“It’s funnier if you’ve been around here a while.” Scott cleared his throat. “Kristy was always the smartest one in our group. Best grades, full scholarship, voted most likely to succeed…but when it comes to Darrel, she’s a total moron.” His ironic smirk returning. “Andre was just saying he saw them at a party and figured out they’re ‘friends with benefits’ now. Darrel’s getting all the perks with none of the hassle, and Kristy’s all off in lala-land thinking it’s going somewhere.”
Angie gaped at him, stomach seizing. “That’s not funny, Scott. That’s awful.”
He forced a sharp exhale, casting her an exasperated look. “See, I knew you’d be like this.”
“Like what?” She sputtered, still in shock over his callousness. “She’s a nice girl with low self-esteem. Do you have any idea what it might do to her when she realizes that guy is just using her?”
Scott threw up his hands. “Hey, she brought it on herself. It’s not like we didn’t warn her.”
“How can you be so concerned about your friend Tessa’s drinking, but think Kristy’s issue is so entertaining?” Angie wondered between clenched teeth.
“Because it’s not the same thing!” Scott’s dark brows knit in mounting anger. “I’m friends with Kristy -and- Darrel. I don’t get involved with stuff like that.”
“So what, are you going to not get involved when she ends up heartbroken?” Angie demanded. She couldn’t help the intensity of her voice. She’d been witness to the destructive consequences of too many relationships gone wrong, which made Scott’s insensitivity to the concept all the more appalling to her. “What if she gets depressed or wants to hurt herself over it? Or worse—”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Scott accused, nostrils flaring as he took a step toward her. “Don’t stand there judging me like I’m a shi**y friend or something. You’re just too damn wholesome to accept reality, you know that? Just like Kristy—off in your own little world where you think you know everything.”
Angie stood her ground, stunned that she hadn’t detected this side of Scott before. Repulsion flooded her mind and soured her stomach. How had she ever found him attractive?
I’m such an idiot.
Unable to think of any response that wouldn’t provoke him further, she stayed quiet.
“I’m a good person!” Scott bellowed, his full mouth twitching into a snarl. “So maybe I’m not perfect, but at least I do more good stuff than bad. That should be enough for anybody.” He took another step forward and pointed at her face. “I don’t need all of your God and forgiveness crap. I’m done with it!”
Feeling as though she’d been verbally slapped, Angie looked away and stared out the French doors into the sunny backyard. She was determined not to become emotional. Crossing her arms, she waited, reduced to the responsiveness of a stone. Scott finally turned, stomped off through the hall and up the stairs.
Taking several moments to collect herself, Angie headed down to the guest room to finish collecting her things and loading her car. Whether Scott was still in the mood to caravan with her or not, she was leaving.
By the time Scott came out to pack his car, his anger was replaced by sullen remorse. Angie did her best to ignore him as they readied their vehicles side by side in the driveway. While she was checking her tire pressure, he brought her a cheese danish. Supposing it was a peace offering, she accepted the pastry but refused to break her silence.
Scott hovered nearby, head down and hands in his pockets. If he’d been working up the gumption to apologize, he was cut short when his mother came out the front door with a wallet in hand.
“Missing something?” Cindy held up the item, penciled brows quirked in a skeptical look.
Scott patted his back pocket and grumbled, walking over to take his wallet from her. “I woulda figured it out.”
“Uh-huh.” Cindy huffed, stepping
up to peer in through the widows of his blue sports car. “You can use my card for gas, but that’s all. No junk food. If I find one empty bag of chips, so help me—”
“Got it,” Scott mumbled.
“I put the cards for your grandmother in your backpack,” Cindy continued, her thin arms fluttering at her sides. “Remember to stretch your legs every few hours. And don’t you dare speed. Call me every night—call me if you get tired—call me if you get lost.” Her pallid face pinched in a concerned look that she shrouded in irritability. She rattled off a checklist of supplies — Scott nodding his assent after every item.
“I think we’re good to go, Mom.” Scott wrapped the diminutive woman in a hug, setting his chin on her head. “Don’t be all worried, okay?”
Against her will, Angie felt a tiny bit of empathy return as she watched the exchange. “Yeah, no worries. I’ll look out for him,” she said, offering her hand to Cindy for a parting shake.
The woman gave Angie’s hand a long look as she took a step back from her son, her expression growing cold. “He can look out for himself just fine.”
“Right.” Angie withdrew her hand, attempting a tight smile. If she’d had a tail, she would have tucked it. That’s what I get for breaking her baby’s heart.
Ducking into her car, she waited for Scott to pull out of the drive.
August 3,
On the Road Again
So, Vince and I are official now. Every night I talk to him, I’m more hopeful that he’s got permanency potential. It’s amazing to me how well he’s managed to walk this thin line between not trying hard enough…and stalking. I know that sounds odd, but I don’t know how else to explain it. Guys like Don and Zak might have liked me, but they didn’t care enough to prove it. I know Scott really liked me, obviously. But even if there hadn’t been problems with the way our personalities mesh, he was just too forceful about it. Vince is different; in the best way possible. I finally called Mom yesterday and told her about him. She didn’t sound as skeptical as I was expecting. I think she considers the long-distance thing to be a worthy test; one he’ll either pass or fail.
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