Discovering April

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Discovering April Page 5

by Sheena Hutchinson


  “Oh.” I realize what his proximity is doing to my irregular heartbeat. I can smell his soap again. He looks over at me and realizes I’m looking at him. My eyes dart to his lips and I notice they are spread just slightly. His chin moves slightly towards me and I stop breathing, thinking he might kiss me. His eyes meet mine once again and my heart begins beating excitedly. After a few seconds, he pulls away and scoots over a bit, giving me more room. He stares up at the sky like he can’t look at me anymore.

  Hoping to diffuse the situation I ask, “How do you know all this?”

  “You come here a lot, you learn stuff.” And just like that, we are back to replying with concise answers.

  We lay in silence, staring up at the moon and the stars until my eyelids get heavy and my mind begins to drift.

  A HOOTING OWL in the distance brings me back to consciousness. I notice I’m lying with my head on Jared’s shoulder and my hand is on his chest for warmth—probably. I begin to shiver. Jared jerks up, too, breaking out of my grasp. Did we just fall asleep together? I blush in the darkness.

  “We should be getting back,” he responds, hopping off the table, away from me.

  I rub my eyes and yawn as I do the same. He tosses the empty box of my women troubles in the trash before taking off into the darkness of the trees.

  “Wait! Wait for me!” I yell, not able to see him at all.

  I hear rustling before I see a silhouette appear. It walks right up to me and grabs my wrist before heading back into the trees. I can’t see a thing; I am walking straight into branches and tripping over tree roots, but Jared seems to know exactly where he is.

  After what feels like an eternity and a dark gloomy forest of trees, we make it back to the shop and his bike. Throwing his helmet on, he hops on and starts up the bike. I’m still strapping my helmet on sleepily when he revs the engine and I think for a second he might leave me. So I jump on, grab hold of his waist, and we are off. Gliding through the dark empty roads, the moon seems to follow us wherever we turn. By the time we reach the highway my teeth are chattering as the wind rips through my tee shirt. I don’t know if he hears it or if he feels my teeth spasming against his back, but he rips the bike over to the side of the road and hops off again. I turn curiously and watch as he digs into the saddlebag beside my leg and pulls out a leather jacket. He wraps it around my shoulders in silence before hopping back in front of me and starting it up again. I poke my hands through the warm sleeves and warm up against his back as I begin wondering: is he mad at me? Why won’t he talk to me? Does he think I was trying to make a move on him? A million or so more questions among these lines plague my mind the entire silent ride home. As the minutes pass, I begin to dread the awkward goodbye that’s coming.

  By the time we exit the highway and turn down our street, I’ve exhausted every possible scenario in my head. He’s pulling up into his driveway when the butterflies begin beating against my insides.

  He puts the bike in park and slides down the kickstand, hopping off as he unstraps his helmet. I notice he doesn’t offer to help me off this time, but I slide my leg over and hop down myself.

  Before I lose all confidence, I hand him my helmet. “Thanks for this; I really needed it.” I walk across my driveway to my own front porch.

  He doesn’t say a word, and I watch as he brings his bike up the driveway to the garage. I’m fumbling with my door, still waiting for some kind of response, but he never returns to the front. I finally push my way into the house, disappointed. That was the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, yet it was also the most awkward. What was he thinking? Why won’t he talk to me?

  I head upstairs and I’m about to undress when I realize I’m still wearing his jacket. I take it off and hang it over my chair. It’ll have to wait until tomorrow I’m definitely not going back there tonight. I slip on my pajamas and under my covers before my mind once again focuses on Hunter. It isn’t long before light shining through my window grabs my attention. Directly across from my window is Jared’s. I watch as he takes off his shirt and throws it across the room. Who would have thought working on cars could make one so … buff.

  I watch as he paces around his room as if he’s looking for something. Eventually, he collapses onto the side of his bed and runs his hands down his face. Shaking his head, he gets back up and flicks off the light. And I drift off to sleep, dreaming about my buff neighbor.

  THE NEXT DAY, I’m woken up by the sound of power tools outside my window. I glance over at the clock: it’s 7 o’clock on a Saturday morning. I crash back down, but the constant drilling eventually has me rolling out of bed. I go to grab my towel to take a shower when I see Jared’s jacket still hanging over my chair. I don’t know what I was expecting; maybe that it would disappear over night so I didn’t have to see him again. I dread awkward moments like this, yet I can’t ever seem to escape them.

  By the time I’m ready to leave the house, I’m dressed in my good jeans and a blouse. I’ve put on some makeup and I make sure to bring my laptop bag to look like I have places to go. Taking a deep breath before I open the front door, I lock it behind me and hop down the stairs with Jared’s jacket it my hands. When I turn to face him and see him wiping grease from his hands with a dirty red towel. With a deep breath, I begin walking right up to him before I can change my mind. He doesn’t look up until I’m over the daisies separating our driveways. I’m practically on top of him when I toss him his jacket.

  “I believe this is yours,” I state coldly as he catches it in his dirty hands.

  Without another word I whip around to head towards my car; he still doesn’t say anything. Once inside my car, I throw my bag onto my passenger seat and turn to see that he has walked back inside the garage like nothing has happened again. My thoughts unite on one singular phrase: ‘What the fuck?!’

  That’s it! I can’t take this anymore. I climb out of the car and slam the door behind me, walking back up his driveway with purpose. I’m going to give this jerk a piece of my mind. Before I lose my confidence, I pick up my stubborn and determined pace as I continue further up the driveway into his garage. He’s digging through a drawer for something when he turns to see me barreling down on him.

  “What the hell?! Did I do something? Offend you? Piss you off? Because your silence is sure as hell pissing me off!” I blurt out before my common sense kicks in.

  He stares at me, surprised and taken aback for a few minutes. I raise my eyebrows and he finally clears his throat.

  “Wanna go for a ride?” he asks, indicating his dirty Jeep Wrangler in the driveway.

  “What?!”

  “Do. You. Want. To. Go. For-a. Ride?” he mockingly repeats as if I’m deaf.

  “Are you ignoring my question?”

  “Are you ignoring mine?” he quips right back.

  Definitely avoiding my question.

  “If I go on this ride, will you tell me what the hell I did?” I bargain.

  “Yup.” He wipes his hand with a clean towel this time and grabs his keys off a hook before heading up the driveway. I look down at what I’m wearing. Jeans and a peasant top isn’t exactly Jeep attire, but I throw my hair up into a ponytail and walk up the driveway behind him. I jump into the front seat beside him, as there are no doors or roof at the moment. I’m strapping on my seat belt by the time he looks over at me and laughs. I guess I kind of look out of place. I think I’m the only thing not covered with dirt in this car.

  “You might want to change,” he offers.

  “No, I’ll be fine,” I retort immaturely, not letting him tell me what to do.

  “Suit yourself,” he calls over the engine before he pulls out of the driveway.

  After about an hour of highway driving, he again takes a random exit. This one is barely readable, covered by overgrown foliage, and there’s a fallen tree behind it. I have to admit, I’m kind of curious as to where we could be going this time. I glance back over at Jared. His eyes are focused on the road like he knows exactly where
he is going, his face unreadable. His brown hair blows in the wind and he almost looks peaceful. We hit a bump as we are pulling off the exit and my bum is lifted so high off the seat, the belt bruises me. It doesn’t seem to bother Jared, so I suck it up and hold onto the post above my head for support. We turn off a few more roads before there’s no more pavement. We are really off-roading now; I feel every rock that we go over as if it were a mountain. He finally comes to a stop between two trees and I lean over to see that before me is a wild plain: some parts tall grass, some parts mud, but most parts swamp and covered in random hills and tire marks scattered throughout.

  “Ready?” He finally looks over and asks.

  I glance back at him. This is his idea of fun? My eyes break from his and skim back over the terrain in front of me. The spontaneous side is finally breaking free from years of oppression and probably depression, and I feel a slick smile spread its way across my lips. Reaching over, I tighten my seat belt across my chest before gripping the bar above me tighter this time.

  “Let’s do this,” I reply, bracing myself.

  I see him hide a smirk as he revs the engine and takes off down the hill and into the mud. The Jeep trails over the wild terrain like it was built for it, tearing it to shreds under its wheels. Every hill and bump causes my head to shake. My seatbelt cuts into my waist and chest and mud covers my clothes and face, but I don’t care. This is the most fun I’ve had in a while. With every hill the Jeep zooms over, the butterflies in my stomach grow wings and explode. The feeling like the huge drop on a rollercoaster causes my stomach to do backflips. I usually hate that feeling, but on this smaller scale, it’s an awesome rush!

  By the time the Jeep slides to a full stop, there is no clean spot left on it—including me. Jared turns to me, wiping spots of mud from his eyes. “In my defense, I told you to change.”

  Looking down, I realize my clothes are ruined. My first reaction comes uncontrollably bubbling out of me. I burst into laughter. Real life, honest to God laughter comes spurting out of my mouth. Truth is, this is the most fun I’ve had in a quite a long time.

  “See that right there—that smile?” He points his muddy finger towards my face. “Reminds me of the old April. I want to see her again. I may have lost my parents, but I think you lost more than that… you lost yourself.”

  I immediately stop laughing. My smile softens and fades as I stare at him for a second, because this is the most he’s ever spoken to me in years and more importantly, because he is right. Somewhere in the mess of Hunter, I lost little bits of myself along the way. Is it crazy that I’ve only spend two days with this man I barely know, yet he seems to know me better than I know myself?

  Things are getting too serious, too awkward. I notice Jared getting tense at his spontaneous admission. I break eye contact with him and study my pants for a second. My eyes lock on the glob of mud on my jeans and it just clicks. I grab it with my hand and meet his eyes once again before I throw it at his face.

  “HEY!” he screams, wiping the slab of mud off his face.

  I squeal and climb out of the car, anticipating retaliation. He unclicks his seat belt and practically leaps out of the car before running for me. I giggle a few times, trying to run over a pile of mud, but my feet keep sinking in and slipping down, making a sucking noise whenever I pull my leg up. He’s on me in seconds. I turn just in time to see him tackle me into the huge pile of dirt. Thank god I turned in time because otherwise I would have been face down in it. I playfully scream, grabbing a handful of dirt in my hands and throwing it at him again.

  “Hey! Cut it out!” he screams again, grabbing for my arms. He has me pinned down, my hands sinking into the mud above my head as he leans deeper on them. “Are you done?” he asks me as sludge slides off his face.

  I can’t help but laugh harder as I struggle against him, to no avail. I finally give up and nod in defeat.

  “You win,” I admit, feeling the wetness penetrate through my hair into my scalp.

  “Do I?” he asks, but if I’m not mistaken, it sounds kind of like flirting.

  He leans in closer and if I didn’t have dirt in my eye, I’d think he was going to kiss me. As if reading my thoughts yet again, he shakes his head in the negative and begins to lean up and off of me. He gives me enough room to grab another handful of mud and I splatter it onto his face, making sure to rub it into his cheeks.

  “I lied!” I scramble out of his reach and over the hill just in time to feel him grabbing for my ankles. I run for the cover of the trees as I hear his carefree laughter while he chases behind me. He follows me into the trees and I loop around, slipping every once in a while against the soft soil until I’m headed back for the car. I turn around just in time to notice he’s right on my heels. I try to pick up my pace, but he’s faster. He grabs hold of my arm and pulls me back into his arms before I feel myself being lifted off the ground. I wipe my hand on my pants before wiping the mud off my eyes to find that Jared is lifting me above his head. We are both soaked and covered in mud from head to toe, but his eyes are still clean and they are looking at mine, looking in a way I’ve never noticed before. A way that speaks to something, something deep within me. We stare at each other for a few seconds before he slowly lowers me to my feet again.

  “I think it’s time we get you home and cleaned up.”

  “Ha, why is that? Don’t think I can hang?” I try to smirk through the mud beginning to dry on my face as he walks around to the other side of the car.

  “I just don’t want you to try and sue me for the cost of that outfit!” he jokes, grabbing hold of the support bar on top of the Jeep and swinging himself back into the seat.

  He pats the passenger seat next to him, indicating it’s time to go. I glance back at the dirty playground where I found my laugh again and I’m kind of sad to leave. Reluctantly, I climb back into the truck and strap into my seat belt.

  The ride back home is fairly silent, except for some country music playing on the radio. Every once and a while we find someone staring at us, covered in dirt, and we laugh at their faces together. I mean, we must look insane being so completely drenched in mud. I smile and look over at Jared and it’s like our own little secret. Something in me likes that idea; something likes that we share this. I have to look away at the trees we pass as that thought crosses my mind.

  Once we pull into his driveway, I unclick my belt and hop out of the car. My pants are so weighed down with mud they are dragging me down. I look down and can’t help but chuckle. He looks over at my sudden outburst and starts to break into laughter beside me. I must look like a mess; the mud has dried to a light crackling soil and it covers our entire bodies. I shake my head as I hop over the flowers that separate our driveways.

  “See ya later,” I say before heading to my door. I reach in my pocket for my keys when I realize I think I locked them in my car earlier. I glance back at my car and sigh… I guess I have to break in through the back door. Descending the porch steps, I begin to walk up the driveway at the same time Jared is bringing a handful of tools into the garage. We are walking the same pace, only separated by the line of various flowers that divides his driveway from mine.

  “I’m not following you… I just forgot my keys,” I awkwardly mutter in explanation.

  He meets my eyes. “Yea, that’s what all stalkers say!”

  “Let’s face it, you’re not that cool to have a stalker!”

  “Ah, denial—it’s always the first stage!”

  I smirk at his remark, reaching the back steps as he disappears into his garage once again. I reach under the welcome mat in the back and grab the spare key before letting myself into my house. But not before I try to catch another glimpse of Jared.

  I don’t get one.

  I’M SITTING IN MY bedroom the next day after three showers and what feels like hours of scrubbing dirt from places one should probably never have dirt. I’m dressed in my oversized sweatshirt and watching reruns of Vampire Diaries on the television. Blankets
are pulled up, and a glass of wine on my nightstand is making for a nice, relaxing night after the crazy events of the past two days. Jared’s bedroom light turns on at that exact moment and I smirk. It’s like he always knows when I’m thinking about him. He’s clean from a very recent shower, too; I can see his hair is still slick. Catching me blatantly staring, he glances over at me through the window before walking over and opening it. Oh crap! I sit up and start to fix my hair, adjust my sweatshirt, but there’s not much I can do with it. It’s not very flattering.

  “April!” he calls, indicating for me to open the window.

  I climb out of bed but my foot gets stuck and I lose my footing, falling to my knees. Smooth, real smooth. I pick myself back up and try to walk confidently over to the window. I open it slightly.

  “Yes?”

  “Would you want to get coffee tomorrow before school?” he struggles to hide a laugh from my clumsiness.

  I happen to notice the curve of his bicep as he braces his hands on the edge of the windowsill as his head tilts to the side slightly. “Uh, yea sure.”

  “Okay, 8am out front!” he calls, pointing to the driveway below us before shutting the window. I pause, staring after him for a moment. I watch as he walks toward his bed. He did that so calmly; was he asking as friends? Is this like a date? Ugh! Why do I always have to over analyze things? Why can’t I go get a cup of coffee with my neighbor? What could possibly be so bad about that?

  SLEEP DIDN’T FIND me until about 5am and my alarm blared promptly at 7. Great – apparently there is no hiding my anxiety from my subconscious. I roll out of bed and hop into the shower again, just to make sure I got all the dirt. There is something twisting in my stomach, and I can’t tell whether it’s anxiety, dread, or excitement. I twist my long blonde and pink hair up into a two-tone-braided bun before I throw on my cute jeans and a blue cardigan. I lace up my sneakers and hop down the steps. Glancing at my watch, I notice it’s 7:59 am. Right on time. I smirk, petting Jinx one last time before throwing my backpack over one shoulder and locking up.

 

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