by Tyra Lynn
I began to work on the eyes, concentrating on giving him that look of curiosity I remembered. The long, full, dark lashes, the eyebrows, slightly raised. I worked intently until the entire face was finished, and then held it out in the moonlight to admire. A masterpiece. Not my lowly work, that face!
Colored pencils! I had tons and tons of colored pencils! I was off in nearly a run to retrieve the blues, every shade of blue I possessed! I switched on the light as I returned to my room, ‘The better to see you with, my dear,’ I thought. I filtered through them hurriedly until I found the ones I wanted.
I erased the darkness of the graphite and began to work with the deepest blue, first heavily around the edges of the iris, then softer toward the pupil, changing the pressures of each stroke. I grabbed the second pencil—light cerulean blue—and worked with the middle area of the iris, defining the tiny muscles. I decided on the Deco Aqua for the lightest part of the center, with a few flecks of the color here and there near the outer edges to give them sparkle and depth. Black for the pupil, with a couple of tiny areas left white from imaginary light, and Voilà!
I held the picture away from me again, anxious to see the results. He was gorgeous. Part of me felt a bit mental for the way I was thinking about him, but another part of me didn’t care at all. That part of me enjoyed stupid historical romance novels, imagined myself as the heroine in every one of them, and no matter the authors description of the hero, he always had a face like this. I already knew every hero hereafter would have this face exactly.
I’d only meant to document what I’d seen. So much for intentions. I checked the time again and it was already five a.m. I knew I’d better try to get a little more sleep before my alarm went off. I carried my notebook to bed with me and propped it against one of my pillows so I could look at it while I fell asleep. I decided that tomorrow I would get out my sketchpad and draw a proper portrait, maybe something life-sized. I imagined the look I would draw on his face while I slowly drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER IV
The only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.
—Albert Einstein
As soon as my eyes closed, my alarm sounded. I was certain I couldn’t have been asleep that long; I hadn’t even had time to dream. I slapped the annoying clock on its top and rubbed my eyes while yawning, stretching, and making old-people noises. You know the ones, “ooooohhhh, errrrrrrrrr, aaaaaaaah.” I pointed my toes, arched my back, stretched my arms above my head, and yawned and yawned and yawned.
As I lowered my arms, my right elbow brushed the notebook. I looked at that beautiful face and gave it a smile, “Good morning, sleep well?” Who cares if I looked stupid, nobody could see me anyway.
I slid out of bed, found some clean clothes, and padded to the bathroom to brush my teeth and bathe. When I returned to my room, I made up my bed and decided to stash my notebook under my pillow instead of taking it back to my library. I hurried down to the kitchen for breakfast, expecting to find my dad waiting for me, as usual. Instead, there was a small, wrapped box on the table with a note beside it.
I grabbed the note first and unfolded it.
Dearest Jessie,
I was going to save this until your first day of school, but I decided you should have it now. I wish I’d thought of it for your birthday. I know I haven’t given you all the things through the years that I should have, and that you really deserved. It’s just hard for me to accept that you’re growing up, but I promise to try to do better by you. I love you so much, and I wish I could keep you my little girl forever. I know I can’t, and I should stop trying. As you’ve told me a million times, it’s not fair, and maybe you’re right.
I want you to take the rest of the week off and enjoy yourself. Steve’s going to fill in to make some extra money before his semester starts, so he said tell you it’s no problem at all. Call me in a little while and I’ll come pick you up. I want you to go shopping and get some new clothes for school, my treat. And don’t say you don’t need them!
Open the box. I hope it’s what you want, but if it’s not, just let me know and we’ll go back together and you can pick out the one you like. It won’t hurt my feelings, promise. Have a good day, sweetheart, and call me.
Love you always,
Dad
I eyed the box on the table suspiciously. It was hard to tell by the outside what might be inside. Dad was not the best at wrapping things, but I could tell he had taken his time with this one and tried to make it pretty for me. For a second it didn’t even matter what was inside, I could feel the love from the wrapping paper, and something in me didn’t want to tear it up.
Curiosity took over , however, and I slipped my finger under a piece of tape on one end and popped it loose. I popped the other side loose, worked my fingers around the end of the box, and tugged. It slid right out of the paper. My eyes bugged out and my mouth dropped open.
It could not be! “No freaking way!” My hands shook as I pulled the top off the box to see if it held what it said it held. I almost dropped it when I realized it did!
“No freaking way! No freaking way!”
The sleek and shiny black phone rested in the white container. I could see my shocked eyes reflected in the glass on the front. I removed the phone and got a sudden glimpse! It was my dad’s face, all smiles, putting the phone back in the box and placing the lid on. This was shaping up to be a major week of firsts! I had never gotten a glimpse from something new, not even a short one!
I held the phone a moment, feeling the weight of it, turning it repeatedly in my hands, front to back to front. It was cool to the touch, and smooth. It was light, and comfortable to hold. I loved the feel of it against my fingertips. I held it to my ear to see what it felt like. My own cell phone!
I gently placed the phone on the nearest place mat and dug the remaining contents out of the box. I pulled out the manuals, the charger, cables, and earphones. I would have known my dad had already been into the box, even without that little glimpse. I grabbed the fingertips manual and glanced through it, cast it aside, and grabbed my new phone. I pushed the button and watched the phone come to life.
I spent the next half hour playing with it. It was so pretty, and so awesome, and so mine! I was engrossed in an ‘app’ when it rang and I was so startled I almost dropped it. It took me a moment to figure out how to answer, but I finally managed, and put it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi sweetheart, see you found your surprise. I hope you like it.” My dad’s voice sounded so pleased.
“Like it? I love it! It is the most awesome thing ever! I’m still trying to figure out how everything works. It has a camera, does video, and does everything! I love it, love it, love it!” The words kept rushing out over my dad’s laughter, “This is so amazing! I don’t even want to put it down!”
I gushed on and on until my dad had to cut me off. I don’t remember the last time I heard him sound so pleased with something he had done, maybe I never had. I think I was as happy for him as I was for myself. Well, close at least.
Time to make my first call. I dialed Julies number—she had a cell phone her first year of high school—and listened to it ring. After a few seconds I got her voice message, “This is Julie, you know the drill. Beeeep.”
“Ohmigod, Julie. I got a phone! You have to call me back! My number is, um, I don’t know what my number is. It’s on your phone. Call me back, call me back!”
I wondered who else I could call. Maybe Katie would answer, but probably not. I dialed anyway. “You’ve reached Katie. You know what. You know when. Beeeep”
“You guys suck. I called Julie, I called you, and nobody is answering their stupid phones. By the way, I have a stupid phone of my own so I can not answer when you call me back. Call me anyway.” I hung up and sulked a little.
Maybe I would call Dad back and go shopping. Now that I had a phone of my own, maybe I should get a case for it or even one of those blue tooth headset thingies or
something. Maybe I could get Dad to drop me off at the mall so I could buy some school clothes, too. I gradually began to like the idea of buying new clothes. Maybe I would do something different this year, try a new look. Last year of high school, so why not?
I dialed the store number and it rang twice. “Timeless Treasures, this is Steve, May I help you?”
“Steve, put Dad on the phone.”
“No can do, kiddo. Your dad is outside talking to that guy with the truckload of stuff from that estate sale. He’s gonna be busy ‘negotiating’ for while. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Bummer.” I sighed a pathetic sigh. What good was a day off when I couldn’t do anything I wanted to do?
“Why bummer?”
“I wanted Dad to give me a ride out to the mall. I need to do some shopping for school. Guess I could call a taxi.” I had done that before, I just hated to waste the money.
“Give me a second. If your dad can handle things here, I’ll pick you up and take you. If you want.”
“Well, if Dad doesn’t mind, that would be great. Can you pick me up in half an hour?” That would sure beat wasting money on a cab.
“I’ll go ask him right now. I’ll only call you back if he says no, otherwise, half an hour it is. Be ready.”
“Thanks, Steve. Talk to you later.”
“No problem, kiddo. Bye.”
I hurried back upstairs and ‘got ready.’ I pulled on my blue tank top and white shorts, secured my hair up in a ponytail, and put on a little makeup and perfume. I surprisingly felt a little “girlie” today, and I think I knew why. Back in my room, I reached under my pillow and pulled out my notebook. My heart sped up just a little as I looked at those blue eyes. Maybe he wasn’t real now, but he used to be. I was so stupid for drooling over something so—stupid—but why not? It made me happy, for now.
“You and I have a date later,” I told the picture, before sliding it back under my pillow.
I hurried back down the stairs and out to the porch swing. I plopped myself down and started pushing with one foot, daydreaming about a million things. I thought about school, about being a senior. I had wondered if that would ever happen, making it through school. I had missed a lot of things I should have done. I had only been to one school dance in my whole life, and it was horrible. Okay, not horrible, but horribly boring. I hated dancing and I hated dresses.
I didn’t do any of the extracurricular activities, and my electives were always self-centered. I hadn’t quite participated in high school; I only attended, and threw myself into learning and keeping my grades as high as possible. I wasn’t nerdy, and I had a lot of friends, but there were only two that I cared to spend time with. Everyone and everything else was shallow, or hollow—and simply tolerable, nothing to invest in.
How was I going to spend my senior year? I liked acting, a little. Maybe I would join drama for a semester and just try it out. No band, or sports, or anything like that. I liked playing my guitar a little, but they didn’t have guitars in the band. I sucked at sports.
What else did they have? I didn’t even know, I had never looked.
I heard the monster before Steve turned in so I was bouncing down the stairs before he had even come to a stop. I bounced all the way to the truck. I felt girlie and bouncy. I climbed like a monkey up the side and into the truck.
“Hi, Steve!” I smiled a too happy smile.
“Hi, Jessie. Why are you in such a good mood?”
He called me Jessie? He hadn’t called me Jessie in years, not to me, at least. “I’m going shopping!” I said in a girlie voice, and gave him a girlie look. I was mimicking Alecia, but I knew he didn’t know that, which made it more amusing. I giggled.
He looked at me funny—closely, and directly into my eyes. It gave me kind of a weird vibe—not bad, not good, just weird. I simply sat there, looking back at him for a second, trying to figure out what he was looking for. Maybe he thought I was on drugs. I giggled again at that thought. He smiled a genuine smile, and then leaned toward me, reaching across my lap. I didn’t jump, but I swatted his arm.
“What the heck are you doing?” I asked as I pushed his still reaching arm away.
“I was going to buckle you in, since you weren’t doing it.” He laughed, pulled his arm away, and put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. He looked terribly cute for just a fleeting second.
“Sorry, I got it. I’ve been in a daze since I got my new cell phone. I know you’re in a hurry.” I was buckling myself in while I talked. I patted the fastened buckle, “Happy now? You may drive.”
“Where to, Madam?”
I felt a moment similar to déjà-vu. Hadn’t I been thinking about that Hansom Cab recently, and how I imagined that is what the driver would say? It gave me the creeps, with Steve acting kind of weird and all friendly. He was never unfriendly; he just wasn’t usually this friendly. I decided to play along anyway. What could it hurt?
“To the mall, driver, post haste!” I used my best, and only, haughty voice.
“As you wish!”
Steve was talky all the way there. He wasn’t normally a talky person, not with me, and he preferred to have his music up loud and pretend I didn’t exist, which worked just fine for me, too. I had no idea what to say to “talky Steve.” I mostly just listened, and responded when required.
When we arrived at the Mall, he pulled up in front of Barnes and Noble, my favorite bookstore and usual destination. “Curb service, Milady.”
“Steve,” I began, then decided not to say what I’d intended. “Thank you for the ride.”
“Call me when you’re ready to be picked up and I’ll be back in two shakes. And Jessie?” He paused so long I had to respond.
“Yes, Steve?”
“Be careful. That’s all.” He looked a little sheepish.
“Okay, that’s it. Who are you, and what have you done with Steve?” I knew that sounded really stupid, but too late.
He shrugged, “Ummm… Your dad told me to pass that message along. I wasn’t going to, I know how you hate stuff like that, but…” another long pause.
“But what? Ohmigod, you are acting so weird!” I clearly had no clue how to deal with weird Steve, either.
“Okay, I’ll just say it, but don’t get mad at me.” He stopped once more for a moment and I was about to say something again, so his words rushed out. “Your dad was talking about you a lot today, about how you had grown up before his eyes, and he didn’t even know it. You know, you never wear makeup, or dress up nice, or anything at work. You look very nice when you try to.”
I had no idea how to respond, or if I even should. I just sat there, looking at his green, green, eyes, trying to figure out what he was getting at. Was he just being nice, or was there more to it? It felt like he was flirting a little, but I wasn’t sure. What if he was? I snapped out of it long enough to unbuckle, open the door, and say, “You are acting so bizarre. I’ll call the store later when I’m done and Dad can come get me. Thanks again for the ride.” I closed the door before he could say anything else weird. I didn’t even look back as I heard him drive away.
Steve had messed up my entire plan because now I couldn’t stop wondering what had gotten into him. I caught my reflection in the glass window and reassessed myself. With my hair up, my neck looked long and slender, almost graceful. My waist was tiny, and my chest was surely “respectable.” Respectable, that’s what Julie and I called it when they were better than small but far from big. My butt looked shapely in my shorts. Not being egotistical, but I did look pretty darn good. I decided to go inside before anyone caught me admiring myself. That would be hugely embarrassing!
Once inside I grabbed a random book from the fiction section, found a table, and pretended to read. When had I grown up? I had felt grown up on the inside for a long time, but when had the outside caught up? I spent so much time just getting by and getting through things; getting through school, getting through work, getting through chores, getting through books, or movies, or j
ust the evening at home.
I had a life, and I’d had boyfriends, though. Dating. That was always weird for me. I just couldn’t get that into a boy I already knew I would never marry. It seemed like mostly a waste of time to me. Not that I wanted to get married, especially not any time soon, but seriously. To invest that much time and effort and emotions—why?
My first year of high school I remember a different girl was crying every single day, swearing she would never love again and life was over. In freaking high school. It just seemed so ridiculously pathetic, and I was not about to fall into that trap.
I had dated a boy named Kyle for about two months. He was cute, and nice and funny. He had an ex-girlfriend named Meghan, and Meghan hated me. I saw Meghan talking to him in the hall one day, so I broke up with him. The funny part was that I pretended he broke up with me.
I didn’t want to keep dating him, but I didn’t want to hurt his feelings either, so I convinced him it was all his idea, and that, though I was heartbroken, I would somehow survive. For two years, he would walk up to me and say, “I never have figured out why I broke up with you” and I would laugh and tell him my guess was it just wasn’t meant to be. If he asked me out, I would politely decline, and tell him my heart ‘couldn’t take it’ if things didn’t work out.
In my sophomore and junior years, there was a succession of guys, but it never lasted for long. I broke up with one because his voice got on my nerves. He was handsome, smart, and had a nice car. His parents had money, and he would take me out to eat, or to the movies, but his voice. It sounded nasally to me. Everyone told me I was imagining things, but I heard it, and I couldn’t stand it. If he could have just stopped talking, but what fun would that be? He was a senior, so I told him my dad said he was too old for me, and of course, I had to respect my dad’s wishes.
Not long after that was Devon. I liked his name, he played guitar, and he had a remarkably good voice. He had a band, and they weren’t bad. In fact, they were good. He went bowling with my dad and me one night, and that was it. I couldn’t go out with a guy who looked like he had a corncob up his butt when he bowled. He had nice abs, but they weren’t nice enough to make me forget the corncob-butt thing. He had to go. I don’t remember what pretext I gave him.