by Penny Wylder
Kira runs up beside me and grabs me by the shoulders. “You okay?” she asks, her voice concerned. I sniffle and half nod, keeping my eyes on the ground. “Come on, let’s get you to the nurse, and get those cuts cleaned up.” She wraps an arm around my shoulder and walks with me.
I'm sitting on the bench in the nurse's office, holding my head in my hands. “I want to die, Kira. Seriously, this is awful. I'm never going to be able to show my face in school again.”
“Are you kidding me?” she asks, jumping up onto the bench beside me. “Do you even realize what happened?”
“Uh, yeah. I made a complete fool of myself, and I'll never live it down. I'm going to be the laughingstock of the entire school.”
“No, dummy, that's not it at all. Lyle literally ran across the entire football field to come help you off the ground. He didn't have to do that, but he did. So, what does that tell you?”
“It tells me he's not as much of an asshole as his sister.”
“No, it says he cares. He cares enough about you that he ran fifty yards just to see if you were okay. Lyle was at your side before I was. Tell me that's not a little curious.”
My eyes meet hers, and she shrugs. Could she be right? Could he maybe have some feelings for me?
The thought turns my aching heart into a tirade of excitement. If Lyle has even the slightest interest me, just a hint, that's all I need to make my entire fucking senior year worthwhile.
The nurse comes into the room, and Kira jumps down to the floor.
“I'm heading back to class. You good?” she asks.
“Yeah, thanks, Kira.” Smiling, I'm starting to feel a little bit better about what happened.
Lyle did run across a field to come to my side. He did compliment my art and tell me he'd like to see more. That's more than he's ever said to me in my entire life. Before today, the only conversation we ever had was him asking me if the meatball sub was good in the school cafeteria.
That was it. A single question about food.
He never looked at me again after that. But, I saw him, I always saw him.
I saw him as he struggled with geometry. I saw him as he gave a presentation about the color hues in art. I saw him as he climbed the rope with his steel muscles and thick calves.
I saw him everywhere.
Giving me a smile, she walks backward out the door. “That's what best friends are for.”
The nurse cleans the scrapes on both my knees and bandages them. Once I'm all set, I get a hall pass from her, and start toward my locker to grab my books for my next class.
Standing at my locker, I flip through the books, pulling out the ones I need.
“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Shutting the door on my locker, I see Sandy coming down the hall. “It's Dirty Dalia, the waste of air.”
Lyle is walking beside her, his eyes meet mine, and I wait to see if he says anything to his sister about how she's acting. He shifts his gaze, moving to the books in his hand, then takes a sharp left, disappearing down another hall.
He just kept going. He didn't say shit to her.
Maybe Kira is wrong. He doesn't like me.
“Tsk, tsk,” Sandy says, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she leans against the locker next to mine. “When are you going to learn, Dalia? When will you finally learn that you don't fit in here? You don't fit in anywhere. I know you like my brother. I've seen the way you look at him, but you need to understand something. . .” Pausing, she lifts her hand to her face, and starts picking at her long, pink nails. “You're garbage, you're trash, you will never, ever, be on our level. My brother and I, we're out of your league, and you just need to stay where you belong. Face down in the dirt.”
Gritting my teeth, I veer my stare. “Your brother helped me; I don't think he sees me as trash.” My voice isn't as a strong as I want it to be, but I'm proud of myself for not staying silent for once.
“My brother only did that to make himself look better. He's the captain of the football team. He wants to keep it that way. But don't be fooled by his help, Dalia. His kindness only goes skin deep. He'll never like you because he's better than you. The sooner you realize that, the better.”
Sandy starts to walk again, crashing into my shoulder on purpose, and slamming me into my locker on her way by.
She's right. I know she's right.
Sandy and her brother live in a different world than me, with completely different lives.
But it's not because they have money or because she's the head cheerleader and he's the captain of the football team. . .
We live in different worlds because I will never be as cold or self-centered as them. I will never let money rule my life, or let it define who I am.
I will always do what's right.
Because that's who I want to be.
“Come on, Dalia, don't be a prude. It'll be fun. Forget about what happened earlier today, it doesn't matter.” Kira grabs my arm, tugging it in against her cheek. “Please?” She looks up at me and bats her lashes. “Pretty please?”
Grimacing, my lips fold down. “I don't know. You know I'm not really into those types of parties. Everyone gets all shit faced, and acts stupid—”
“Exactly, that's the best part!” she blurts out. “Dalia, it's our senior year, we need to make it to at least one party. Just one, that's all I ask.”
“Yeah, but are we even invited? Did anyone ask you to go? Because no one asked me. Won't it be weird if we just show up?”
Rolling her eyes, she groans, “Dalia, you're killing me.” Hanging her head, she drops my arm, and throws herself back on my bed. “You don't get invited to these things, no one gets invited. Word spreads, and people just show up. Poof! It's party magic.” She wriggles her fingers like she's just thrown sparkles into the air.
Sitting down beside her, I fold my hands in my lap. The idea makes me uncomfortable. I've never been a party kind of girl. Why should I start now?
Kira rolls onto her stomach, resting her head in her hands. “Lyle will be there. . .” she says, drawing out his name. Pouting her bottom lip, she gives me puppy dog eyes. “Please, pretty please.”
“Why don't you just go? You don't need me with you.”
Pushing herself up, she grabs my hands and squeezes. “I'm not going unless you come with me. That's how this whole best friend thing works. You have my back, I have yours. You know, connected at the hip.” Kira gives me a smile and scoots a little closer. “Look, I promise if it's weird or awkward, we'll leave. Okay?”
Letting out a slow breath, I nod. I sit quietly, just holding her eyes with mine. She's still pouting her bottom lip, cupping her fingers together to beg.
“Okay, okay,” I finally say, cracking. “I'll go.” Pressing my hands into the tops of my knees, I groan. “But if shit gets crazy, or I get uncomfortable, I'm out.”
Kira jumps up to her knees and squeals. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She drives herself forward, giving me a big hug. “This is going to be awesome! I swear, it's going to be so much fun! You have no idea!”
Giggling, I push her off me. “Yeah, well I hope you're right. Or this friendship. . .” With an open hand, I wiggle it side to side.
Kira giggles, latching back on to hug me harder. “You'll never get rid of me, sorry.”
When we arrive at the party, we park halfway down the street, directly behind a row of cars. Kira locks the doors, tucking the single key into her pocket. Walking side by side, she's smiling wide.
“This is going to be fucking awesome. I'm so excited. Are you excited?”
Shrugging a shoulder, I try to muster some excitement. “Yeah, this should be really cool.”
The music starts to pound as we get closer, and I can hear laughing and yelling. We turn up the driveway of Todd Stanson's house, and there are kids everywhere.
Todd is one those kids whose parents are never home. They travel to their country house almost every weekend, leaving open range for their son to throw parties. It's
like they hit their late forties, sent their two older kids to college, and figured fuck the last one, he's on his own.
I've never seen any other kid have the freedom Todd Stanson has.
The front door is open, so I follow Kira inside. There are empty cups and beer cans strewn about the room, with drunken kids dancing and laughing.
She smiles at people from school, and we make our way deeper inside. There's a keg in the kitchen, so she grabs two cups, and fills them. Passing me one, she takes a big gulp from hers.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Beer.”
“Oh, no, I don't want this. I don't want to drink.”
Kira shrugs her shoulder, taking the cup from my hand, and passing it to some random kid that walks by. “I'm just happy you're here. And if I get too fucked up, you can drive us home.”
“Consider it done. I'd be happy to get us home later.”
There's a commotion coming from the garage that catches our attention. She gives me a smile and nods her head. “Come on, let's go see what's going on in there.”
“Are you sure we can?” I ask.
“Dalia, relax, it's fine. Take a deep breath, we're not going to get in trouble or anything.”
I fake a confident smile and follow her to the door. There's hooting and clapping, laughing and yells. Stepping down into the garage, there's a big circle of kids all crowding a bottle. A couple of them are in the middle of the circle, making out with each other.
Spin the bottle. Seriously?
“Well, well, well, look who climbed out from under her rock.” Sandy purses her lips and rocks her head on her shoulders.
“Not tonight, Sandy, all right?” Kira cuts in, holding out her cup in Sandy's direction. “We're just here to have a good time, no drama.”
With open palms, Sandy tucks her chin into her chest as if she's just been insulted. “I'm not trying to cause any trouble, Kira. I just think it would be fun if you and Dalia joined our game here? What do you think, Dalia? You in?” She looks behind Kira at me.
“Nah, I'm all set. Maybe another time,” I answer.
“Oh come on, don't be a prude, Dalia. Here,” she says, grabbing a drink and trying to hand it to me. “Drink up, have fun, and enjoy the party.”
“I'm good, really.”
“Come on, just take it,” she says, nudging the cup in my direction. “That's why you're here, right? To party with the cool kids?” Suddenly the cup is swept from her hand.
“She said she's good, Sandy.” Setting the cup down on a ledge, Lyle steps between his sister and me. “Besides, we need another player inside.” Looking back at me over his shoulder, he asks, “You in, Dalia?”
Is this really happening? Did Lyle Vox just save me from his own sister and then ask me to play a game?
Kira gives me a gentle push forward, flashing wide eyes and a half smile. “Say yes, say yes,” she mouths the words.
“Um, yeah, okay. I'll play.”
“Good, let's go,” he says, reaching down and grabbing my hand to guide me away from the drunken spin the bottle game. He has no idea how grateful I am.
I don't look back, but I can feel his sister staring at us, her glare burning a hole in the back of my head. But still I smile. Because I don't care about what she thinks right now, I'm on cloud nine.
My small hand fits perfectly in his, snuggly tucked into his palm. He squeezes my fingers tighter, and my heart hammers inside my chest.
Lyle Vox is holding my hand. Lyle Vox is taking me with him to join a game.
This feels like a dream. Don't wake up. Don't wake up. Don't wake up. Wishing silently, I let him pull me through the house, and to a back patio where a game of Twister is underway.
Lyle releases my hand and holds up his arms. Howling loudly, he barks, “All right, kids, let's do this.” A boy named Chris attempts to pass Lyle a bottle of beer, but he declines, and stands at the edge of the mat. “Where am I going, Kay?”
Kay spins the little arrow. “Right hand on red,” she says.
Lyle places his hand down, then glances up at me. “You're next, Dalia.”
Kay spins again. “Left foot on blue.”
There are four of us playing, all taking turns as Kay controls the spinner. We're all tangled together, until one kid falls, taking him out of the game. Then another kid goes down, and all that's left is Lyle and me.
“You're going down, Greene.” He's taunting me, playfully nudging me with his hip. “Uh, don't fall, unless you can't hang anymore.”
“Don't worry, I'm way more flexible than you'll ever be.” Giggling, we're wrapped around each other, arms and legs all braided into one big knot.
He's flirting with me, he's really flirting with me!
It's the first time ever that I feel a mutual attraction between us. His smiles are coy and sexy. He's purposely touching me more than he has to be. There's no reason his face needs to be so close to mine. We’re the only two people playing now, yet we never move more than two spots away from each other despite the rest of the mat being wide open.
Placing my hand on a green dot, my face is up against his chest. He smells amazing, his cologne hijacking my senses. I take a deeper breath, lean in a little more, and brush my cheek against his shoulder.
Glancing up, Lyle is looking down at me. Our faces are so close, eyes locking on each other as we both sway, trying to keep our balance. He gives me a little smile, then licks his lips. My heart starts to pound in my chest, and a cool sweat is beading up on the back of my neck.
Kiss him, Dalia. Kiss him. It's now or never!
I think he wants me to. Why would he be looking at me this way if he didn't?
Do it!
Sucking in a big breath of air, I close my eyes, and throw my mouth against his, kissing him. His lips are soft and warm, slightly wet, and taste like fruit punch. Opening my eyes, Lyle has a look of shock on his face.
His eye are open wide, exposing all of the white around his eyes. His mouth is stiff, and not moving at all.
Oh no! What the hell did I just do?
A rush of embarrassment scales up my spine, making me fall over onto my ass. Jumping to my feet, I look around. Everyone in the room is staring at me. A couple of boys start to laugh and snicker.
I'm mortified. Embarrassment turns my face ten different shades of red.
What the hell was I thinking? I'm so stupid!
Twisting quickly, I find the door and bolt. I can't stay here anymore. There's no way I'm going to stick around for the barrage of humiliation that's coming my way.
Everyone is going to know before the night is over.
My stomach cramps and turns, as bile rises to the back of my throat. I'll never live this down. This is going to follow me forever.
“Dalia, wait!” I faintly hear Lyle call out behind me.
But I don't stop. My feet carry me down the hall, bumping into shoulders, and bouncing off the walls. All I want to do is get the hell out of here. That's it.
I can't believe I did that!
I'm such an idiot! How could I be so stupid to think he'd ever want to kiss me?
He's popular, tall, and handsome. He can have any girl he wants. Why would he ever want someone like me?
I read him wrong, so very wrong.
Shoving my way through the crowd of kids in the living room, I squeeze out the front door, and stumble down the steps into the yard. All I want to do is go home. Looking side to side, I check to see if Kira is around, but she's not.
Pulling out my phone, I start to text her that I want to leave, when suddenly I'm grabbed by the arm, and yanked in the opposite direction.
“Dalia Greene, I've nev. . .never seen you out like this before.” I'm spun around and swept into someone's chest. “Damn, girl, yo—you look good.”
It's Justin Smith. Normally, he's a pretty nice guy, but he's not himself right now. He reeks of vodka, his words are slurred. He's swaying on his heels as he uses me to hold him upright.
“You're drunk, Ju
stin.” I push against his chest, trying to pry myself free. “Let me go.”
“Oh come on, we both know how you've looked at me this year. You want this, I can tell.” Lowering his face, he puckers his lips as he tries to kiss me.
“Stop it, Justin. I said let me go.” My voice is louder as I give him another hard shove. But he's got me so tight, his arm hooked around my waist, I can't break free.
“She said let her go.” Lyle's voice spurs my heart and causes it to stand still in my chest. In one quick pull, he yanks Justin off me, and throws him to the ground as if he weighs nothing.
Justin grabs the back of his skull where it hit the ground, rubbing the sore spot. “What the fuck, Lyle. Why you got to be such a douche?”
“If I were you, I'd just stay the fuck down.” He looms over Justin, his fists clenched at his sides as his nostrils flare. “You won't win this one, we both know that.”
Justin doesn't say another word, he simply keeps rubbing his head with one hand. He isn't going to challenge Lyle because he knows he doesn't stand a chance.
Lyle takes me by the hand, and pulls me in, wrapping me in his arms. “Are you okay?” he asks, checking me over for any injuries.
“I'm fine.” Clearing my throat, I try to gather myself. This has been a strange night.
His eyes steady on mine as his fingers dig deeper into the small of my back. “You know, next time you kiss me, you really should give me the chance to kiss you back before you run off.”
Holy shit. What is he doing? What's happening right now?
I'm stuck. My body and mind are fighting, battling each other for the truth. My head can't grasp the thought that this guy, this hot, tall, steel jawed guy, could, or would, ever want anything to do with me.
And my body is telling me to shut the hell up, stop thinking, and just feel the energy between us. Feel him, don’t think. Feel his lips, his chest, his hands. Feel him. Don't let my head win, scaring me into running away from this guy who obviously came back to find me.
Lyle Vox came for me. Me.
The quiet nerd who spends her days with her face in a book, sketching pictures or reading. With fingers covered in silver pencil lead, and no plans but to do anything but draw; this girl is now pressed into the chest of the hottest kid in school.