by Cindi Madsen
“I better take that,” Jake said as we walked out of the gallery.
I had Mrs. Crabtree’s sculpture in a bag hanging from my arm. Tina had wrapped it in padding and stuffed it into a box. “It’s not like it’s heavy.”
“No offense, but I haven’t known you very long, and I’ve already seen you lose your shoe and dump everything out of your purse.”
“I swear I’m not normally clumsy.”
Jake flashed me a skeptical look and held out his hand. I hesitated for a moment, then went ahead and gave him the bag. “We fixed the floor in the restaurant, by the way. There was a crack that needed to be filled in. I think that’s why your heel caught.”
“Then it’s a good thing you took care of it.” I bumped my shoulder into his, no longer able to keep myself from flirting with him a little bit. “Especially if someone as clumsy as me is going to be in there again.” And who was I kidding? I couldn’t avoid Blue much longer.
After being around Jake and Tina, I’d seen another side of him. He was still his charming self, but there was something more. The way he talked to Tina, the way he listened as she went into excruciating detail about how she made each sculpture. I’d also been in the elevator with him enough times to know that his floor was at the top, where the expensive, great-view condos were. “So, you’re a good-looking, successful guy…”
“Thanks,” Jake said.
“Not a compliment. I’m wondering why you’re still single. And I’m sure you’re thinking the same about me. The truth is, I don’t really believe that I’ll ever have a successful relationship.”
He pressed his lips together. “Isn’t that a little cynical?”
“No. It’s a lot cynical. Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
Jake slowed his pace and studied me for a moment. “I guess I just haven’t found the right person yet. It doesn’t mean I don’t believe she’s out there.”
“You don’t have to pretend you believe in”—I threw up my hands and made air quotes—“‘the one’ and falling madly in love to impress me. I wasted too much time believing in all that, so now I’m realistic. The odds of you and me working aren’t great.”
“But what if we do work out? What if we end up being perfect for each other?”
I shook my head. “See, that’s the problem. Everyone’s been taught this unrealistic idea that there’s someone out there who’s perfect for us. A soul mate who completes us. But I’ve found that’s just not the way things work.”
Jake grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. “I’m going to make a guess as to why you feel that way. If I guess right, I get a date.”
I twisted to face him. “You think you know enough about me to guess how I got so cynical?”
He met my gaze, a challenging glint in his eye. “One date.”
“If you guess right.” I knew he couldn’t. It had taken a lot of bad relationships to get me to this point. The analysis of all of my exes as I turned them into case studies probably hadn’t helped with the cynicism, but it had made me smarter. They say the truth will set you free.
He looked me up and down, like I might be hiding all my secrets in the way I was standing. “Child of divorce. Watched your parents never find love, so now you don’t believe people can be happy together.”
I crossed my arms. “Wrong. My parents are divorced, but both of them found love. They’re both happily married to other people now.”
“I was still right.”
“Half-right,” I corrected.
Jake grinned. “So I get half a date. We’ll go somewhere and get an appetizer. Or we’ll go to a movie and walk out in the middle of it.”
I stared at him for a moment, not sure whether to smile or laugh or shake my head and sigh. “I can’t figure you out. Why are you so determined? We’ve had a few good conversations, and I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m attracted to you, what with the fact that I get all flustered whenever you’re around—but really, you don’t know that much about me.” I stuck my hand on my hip. “And don’t even try to tell me it’s in my eyes, that you just have a feeling about us, or something like that.”
He took a step, bringing us so close our bodies were almost touching. “I guess it’s how when you talk about your clients, I can tell you care about them. You’re more honest than most people I know. You’re witty and make really funny jokes about art. And I think it’s cute how you put your fist on your hip when you’re about to tell me all your rules.”
I dropped my fist. “And how is it you think you know all this?”
“Because whenever you’re around, I pay attention.” His eyes bored into mine with such intensity my throat went dry. “You might not believe in seeing someone and knowing something’s different about them, but I do. And there’s something different about you.” Jake ran his fingers down my arm, leaving a trail of goose bumps. Then he grabbed my hand and continued down the sidewalk. “So? Where do you want our half date to be?”
Chapter Eight
You know what I was not doing as I scrubbed my bathroom floor Saturday morning? Singing. The only thing coming from my mouth as I scoured that brown crap between the tiles was a stream of profanities. Not exactly princess behavior, but as I’ve mentioned, I’m no princess, and the guys I’ve dated are far from princes—evidently I have trouble identifying the good guys and end up picking ones who’ll hurt me.
Sometimes I wonder if my dating life would’ve gone differently had my first boyfriend not ended up being a huge jerk. That boy taught me a big life lesson about trust. Apparently not enough to keep from making several mistakes, but he taught me that not everyone is as great as they seem.
Snow White Case Study: Sherman/The Prince
My Age: 17
In order to get the full effect of why and how things happened with Sherman, I need to go back to when I was thirteen and my entire life was uprooted.
Mom and Dad had been divorced for three years when Mom met Dwight. After four months of dating, he proposed. Six months later, they got married, and I suddenly gained a stepdad and twin stepbrothers. Mom and I moved from Aurora to Dwight’s ranch in Longmont. Even though it was only an hour drive away, it felt like moving countries.
The entire summer before my freshman year, Drew and Devin tortured me. They called me a baby for still watching Disney movies, pointed out when I got zits, and used my clothes and bedding to line the horse pens for reasons I still don’t understand. And everything I did was “like a girl.” I threw like a girl, talked like a girl, cried like a girl, dressed like a girl. They spat it out like the biggest insult, and I took it as one. I don’t know why. Because after all, I was a girl.
Mom assured me life would get better—that I’d meet lots of new friends when school started.
Then school started.
Everyone hated me. I was going through this phase where I was all knees and elbows, with string-bean legs up to my neck. The other students made fun of my clothes even though they were wearing trends from three years ago. At the time, finding pants to fit my long legs was impossible, meaning I got asked when the flood was coming on a regular basis.
Two months into the school year, I couldn’t take it anymore. I missed my old life and my old friends. I parked myself at a table in the back of the school cafeteria, looked at the food on my plate, and started crying. I hoped no one would notice.
No such luck.
Drew and Devin sat down next to me, apparently sensing weakness and preparing to attack. I was just waiting for them to tell me what I was doing like a girl now.
Ross, the leader of the popular boys, walked by, stuck his thumb up and said, “Nice high-waters, dummy.”
Instead of Darby, some jokester had decided to start calling me dummy. It caught like wildfire.
Devin stood up, double-fisted Ross’s shirt, and slammed him against the wall. “Apologize to Darby.”
“Uh…s-s-sorry, Darby,” Ross said.
Drew stood on the other side of him and jabbed a finger into his chest. “You tell everyone
you know that making fun of Darby means getting your ass kicked by Devin and me. And never, ever call her dummy again.”
Drew smacked the back of Ross’s head with his open palm. “Got it, dummy?”
“I got it,” Ross said.
Devin released him, he hurried off, and then my stepbrothers came and sat back down by me.
I stared at Devin and Drew in shock. “But…why did you do that?”
“Do you want him to call you that?” Devin asked.
I shook my head. “No.”
“We’re family now,” Drew said. “And families stick together.”
At the end of lunch, Devin ran a hand over my head, mussing my hair. “Later, you girl.”
After that, Devin, Drew, and their five friends sat by me in the lunchroom; Ross and his gang never picked on me again. There was still a group of snotty girls that made life hell, but I couldn’t exactly ask my brothers to beat them up for me.
Most days after school, I hung out with the guys. They were far from dwarfs—in fact most of them towered over me—but they were my group. My seven giants. Thinking of going home and being able to ride my horse or hang with the guys, I knew I could make it through the day of school.
Nothing much changed over the next few years. I was never what you’d call popular, and when I went out, it was with my seven giants.
The first day of my junior year, I was feeling pretty good about life. I’d finally stopped growing, filled out a little bit, and Mom had taken me to a store in Denver and bought pants that fit me perfectly. The poofy, big-bang hairdos weren’t in anymore, so my straight, blond hair wasn’t as out of place.
Tabitha Newton walked up to me as I was loading school supplies into my locker. Since she’d made no secret of her hatred for me, I was surprised when she didn’t immediately insult me.
“Hi, Darby,” she said.
I stared for a few seconds before responding. “Hi.”
Tabitha ran a hand through her hair. She’d gotten “The Rachel” cut over the summer and had chunky blond highlights running through it. “You should try out for cheerleading.”
Because the cheerleaders made no secret of the fact that they didn’t like me, trying out had never crossed my mind. But it did have a certain allure. “Sure. Maybe.”
“Let’s see how you’d do on a pyramid.” Tabitha shoved me.
Someone had set up behind me on her hands and knees—I believe they call it a tabletop—and I toppled backward over her body.
Tabitha’s face floated above me. “Looks like you failed.” She and her friend giggled and walked off.
That’s what you get for trusting the biggest witch in school, I thought as I lay there, not wanting to deal with life.
A hand extended toward me. It was no True Love’s Kiss, but it got me on my feet again. He had shaggy, brown hair, and tan, I-spend-lots-of-time-outdoors skin.
“Thanks.” I didn’t recognize him, and I would remember a face like that. “Are you new?”
“Just moved in. I’m Sherman.” He shook his head. “Don’t ask about the name. It was my granddad’s and now I’m lucky enough to have it.”
“My name’s Darby, so I completely understand.”
“Actually, I think Darby’s a cute name.” He tapped my nose. “It fits.”
This was the kind of guy I’d been dreaming about.
Two days later, when Sherman and I were sitting outside after lunch, he kissed me. I’d been anticipating my first kiss for a long time, and it didn’t disappoint. After that, the kissing increased at steady intervals. So did his roving hands. He wanted to take things fast; I wanted to take it slow. I didn’t want to lose him, so I kept asking him to be patient.
Around our three-month anniversary, Sherman and I had plans to go to a party out by Burch Lake. Unfortunately, the school had called to talk to Mom earlier that day. The secretary had asked why I was always late for class. (Sherman and I often snuck outside for a few uninterrupted minutes of kissing, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.)
I sat, sulking in the kitchen, thinking about how unfair life was when Drew, Devin, and the rest of the guys came in.
“You need a ride to the party?” Devin asked.
I stared at the back of Mom’s head. “My mom thinks I’ve been spending too much time with Sherman.”
“We can take her with us, Janet,” Drew said. “We’ll make sure she and Sherman stay in sight at all times. In fact, I’ve been meaning to talk to that kid anyway.”
Mom sighed. “Fine. Don’t you let her get into trouble, or there’ll be heck to pay.”
Mom didn’t believe in swearing, and even using “heck” was pretty colorful for her.
“Understood,” Devin said.
My entourage and I squished into Devin’s quad-cab Dodge and headed to the party. The second we got there, I scanned the place for Sherman. Every night away from him was like torture.
Then, I spotted him.
Making out with Tabitha Newton.
I didn’t know what to do; I’d never been in a relationship before. The two of them were sitting on Sherman’s open tailgate, feeling each other up, even though people were nearby. Tabitha pulled her mouth off Sherman’s to catch a breath. When she looked up, her eyes met mine. She flashed an evil grin before going in for round two.
You’d think I’d charge over there and yell or slap him or do something. Anything. Instead, I stood there frozen, watching my boyfriend—I’d thought he was my boyfriend, anyway—make out with the witch. My eyes burned as tears formed; a sharp pain shot through my chest.
“Did you find Sherman yet?” Gil, the nicest of my brothers’ friends, asked. He must’ve seen what I was staring at then, because he said, “Oh. Darby, I’m sorry.”
When Sherman and Tabitha broke apart again, Ross tapped Sherman on the shoulder and pointed at me. Sherman slowly stood and walked over.
“How could you?” I asked as a few tears escaped and ran down my cheeks.
“We never said we were exclusive,” Sherman said. “Did you think we were?”
“Of course I did.” I leaned in and whispered, “You were trying to get me to have sex with you. I wouldn’t do that with someone I thought was going to shove his tongue down Tabitha’s throat.”
Sherman shrugged. “What can I say? You snooze you lose.”
Gil grabbed my hand. “This guy’s a loser. You don’t need him.” He pulled me away from Sherman and the crowd that had gathered to watch the drama.
I just caught the sight of Devin approaching Sherman. He yelled something at him and shoved him, hard enough my boyfriend—er, ex-boyfriend—went down on his butt.
Then the guys and I were back in the truck headed home, me fighting tears and losing. The stupid thing was, even after all of that, I couldn’t stop wondering if Sherman would call and apologize so we could go back to the happy couple we used to be.
Time Wasted: Three months
Lessons Learned:
Tabitha Newton truly was the biggest witch in school.
Some guys are only about one thing.
Charming boys are dangerous.
Assuming does, in fact, make an ass out of U and Me. But mostly just him.
…
I answered the door and invited Jake inside. “I’ve got to throw on some jewelry, so have a seat, or look around or whatever.” I gripped his arm just below the elbow and said in my most serious voice, “No matter what you do, though, don’t look in the hall closet. That’s where I keep all my skeletons.”
I walked back to my bedroom, wondering how long it’d take him to open the closet. Last night when Jake and I had discussed when and where we were going to go on our half date, we’d found out that we both were planning on attending the same charity function. Nadine and I had worked on Mr. and Mrs. Hammond’s houses—that’s right, plural. Virginia Hammond had a soft spot for me and insisted I come to all her social events. She’d actually called the office yesterday afternoon to double-check I’d be attending the Hammond�
�s Children’s Hospital fund-raiser.
I stuck in my chandelier earrings and slipped into my purple stilettos. When I came out of the bedroom, Jake wasn’t looking in the closet; he was looking at the plant I had on the window ledge.
Jake poked one of the brown, crispy blades. “I like that you keep this plant, even though it’s dead.”
“It’s not dead. Malnourished maybe, but look at that leaf.” I pointed to the green one in the middle.
“Okay, so in the middle of all the brown, dried-up leaves, there’s a single struggling one.”
“As long as he’s still trying, I’ll keep watering him. When I occasionally remember to.” I turned my attention from the plant to Jake. A lot of guys wore suits a size or two too big, but his was tailored to his body, the black simple yet striking, and for a moment I forgot that I needed to make a point before we left. “By the way, my boss is going to be there tonight, so we need to keep things low-key.”
“Hmm. That’s going to mess with my plans to steal the microphone and sing karaoke for you. I was going to do a big dedication and everything.” One of Jake’s dark eyebrows cocked up. “How do you feel about Journey?”
My earrings rattled together as I shook my head. “Don’t make me regret this.”
“Meatloaf it is.”
What escaped my lips could only be described as a giggle. We hadn’t even started our almost-date and I was already giggling.
Pull it together, I told myself, but I wasn’t going to freak out, either. I had this situation totally under control.
I opened the hall closet, picked my keys off the hook inside, and threw them in my purse.
Jake put his hand on my back and looked past me into the closet. “Those skeletons don’t look too bad. Nothing I can’t handle.”
I closed the door. “I keep the really scary ones in a different closet.”
Jake offered me his arm. “Ready?”
All day I’d thought about this. There had to be a happy medium. I didn’t want to stay away from him anymore, and we had a good time together. I can do this. All I gotta do is relax and enjoy the night. No pressure, no strings attached.
I didn’t sit and type up all my case studies just to get burned again for the same stupid thing. I’d broken the rules before, and I always paid for it in the end.