I couldn’t believe this was happening. “Why should I hand it over to you?” I waved my hand at the empty cans. “You’ll just throw it away on beer.”
Dean reached out and slapped me hard across the face. I tottered back and landed against the stove. My cheek burned. Tears pushed against my eyelids, wanting to escape. Too bad. I wouldn’t let them. If I was trapped, so were they.
“If you want to keep living here, you will help pay for your living expenses. This is my house, remember? Now, lucky for you, I’m going to make you look like a good girl to your mother. As far as she knows, you offered up your paycheck happily. Don’t let me hear any different. Are we clear?”
I nodded, covering my cheek with my hand. Dean had never slapped me before. He yelled at me all the time, raised his hand and threatened me a couple of times, but this was a first. It scared me. Obviously he was serious about this money thing.
Usually I didn’t make waves. I tried to keep the peace, always doing what he asked of me. This, though—handing over my paychecks? My money? It wasn’t fair. And yet, it didn’t look like arguing about it would get me anywhere.
The microwave started beeping. Dean sat down at the kitchen table. I removed the brownie from the tray, then stuck the rest of the dinner back in for another couple of minutes, like the instructions said to do.
I paced the floor, trying to think of what I could do to change his mind. Maybe I could talk to Mom before he did, and explain to her why I needed my paychecks. She had a better chance of changing his mind than I did. No. Of course that wouldn’t work. She always took his side.
When the microwave beeped again, I took the tray over to Dean with a fork. I had to try. Just one more time.
“I, uh . . . ”
“What?” His gnarled, ugly hand gripped the fork as he peeled the skin away from the breast meat. I thought of him reaching up and hitting me again. “Spit it out, Rae.”
“I’m going to the football game. I’ll be back later.”
I started to go into the bathroom, to brush my hair and change the bandage on my finger. But with anger boiling up inside me, I decided I had to do something else first. I headed to my bedroom, shut the door, and picked up my favorite pen.
poetry journal—october
ON THE MENU
I made you
a special
casserole
for dinner tonight.
It’s full of
all the ingredients
you seem
to love.
Two cups of selfishness,
a half cup of spite.
Three cups of greed,
and four tablespoons of grudge.
I mixed them all together,
then poured them in a pan.
Baked it for an hour;
now I’ll serve it nice and hot.
You think it looks
delicious?
I’m so glad, ’cause
it’s all yours.
Though
I think it needs
one
more
thing.
Please, take a seat
while I finish
up your meal.
I add a pinch
of poison.
Now, won’t that
hit the spot?
strangers no more
I STOOD AT THE BOTTOM OF THE BLEACHERS, SCANNING THE crowd. They must have spotted me, because Alix and Felicia began waving their arms frantically from the middle of the student section. I trudged through the mountain of people, and thankfully a few kind souls let me squeeze in between my friends. Two big zeros lit up the scoreboard, so although I’d missed some of the first quarter, I obviously hadn’t missed much.
“Did you get my texts?” Alix asked. “We thought maybe you were ditching us.”
“Yeah, sorry I’m late.” I shivered a little from the cool night air, so I buttoned the top button of my jacket. “Work stuff.”
“It’s okay,” Alix said, slipping her arm through mine and pulling me close to her. I took in the familiar scent of her green apple shampoo and felt myself relax a little. “All that matters is you’re here now.”
Apology accepted. Exactly how it should be. If only it could be that easy in my own home.
At the thought of Dean and the ugly scene that had played out, I instinctively reached up and touched my cheek. It still stung a little when I touched it, although no one would ever know what happened. Thankfully nothing showed, and I sure didn’t plan on telling anyone.
I turned to Felicia. I could feel her eyes on me. “You okay?” she asked. “Have you been crying?”
“I’m fine!” I said, probably a little too enthusiastically. “It’s just the cool air. Makes my eyes water.”
I try not to let things get to me. But after I’d scribbled in my notebook for a while and replayed the whole thing over and over, there was no stopping the tears. I didn’t let it go on too long, since I had a game to get to. And now I felt happy to be here, a normal girl at a normal football game with a bunch of other happy, normal people.
The ref blew his whistle, indicating the end of the first quarter. Everyone stood up and cheered. Had to give the boys on the field a little love. Or in Felicia’s and Alix’s case, a lot of love. They didn’t simply cheer, they screamed.
When we sat back down, Alix motioned a few rows below us. “Nathan’s turned and looked up here, like, six times. I think he’s been waiting for you.”
“Yeah, right. And Santa Claus is bringing me a pony this year.”
But as soon as I said that, Nathan turned and looked right at me. Our eyes met. A shiver went down my spine, and this time it wasn’t because I felt cold. Quite the opposite.
Feeling weird that he’d caught me looking at him, I glanced away, but not before he flashed me a grin.
“I think he likes you,” Alix whispered in my ear.
“He doesn’t even know me.”
“Well, I think he wants to get to know you.”
What if he did? Could I let him in? Alix and Felicia, Nina and Spencer—they knew I’d never met my dad, that my mom and I lived in the ugly part of town with my stepfather, and that I couldn’t stand him. I think they respected how hard I worked at the flower shop so I could make a better life for myself someday. My friends also knew that I didn’t like talking about my family, and unless I brought something up, they shouldn’t ask.
I’d told each of them, ever so briefly, about my mom and Dean after I felt comfortable with them and trusted them. Still, it was hard. It probably would always be hard, giving people a glimpse of the family I felt ashamed of. And when it came to a potential love interest, it seemed pretty much impossible.
Maybe it was better to just get it out of the way. This is who I am, this is the family I’m not proud of, and if you ask me anything about it, then it’s over between us. Yeah, right. That’s the way to build a close, loving, trust-filled relationship. Part of me wondered if maybe, like my mother, I simply wasn’t capable of one.
I tried to imagine what kind of family Nathan might have, playing out different scenarios in my head. Then the game got interesting. Santiago scored a touchdown with five minutes left in the half. The crowd stayed on their feet for the rest of the quarter, and we held the lead through halftime.
“I need a coffee,” Alix said as the crowd began dispersing. “Want anything?”
“I do,” Felicia said. “I’ll go with.”
I stood up to join them, but as I did, Nathan also got up.
“No,” Alix said, leaning in close so Nathan couldn’t hear her. “You’re staying right here. Tell me what you want and I’ll bring it back for you.”
So much for the safe harbor of friends.
“I’m starving. Can you get me some Peanut M&M’s?” I fished some money out of my pocket as Nathan made his way up the bleachers toward us. I felt my heart speed up.
“Absolutely,” Alix said with a smile.
“Hey, girls,” Nathan said
. “Good game, huh? Thanks to Santiago!”
“Yep, he’s the man,” Alix said. “Here, take a seat, Nathan. Felicia and I were just leaving.”
Wow, obvious much? My friends hopped down the bleachers as Nathan and I sat down. “Your little town sure loves football, huh?” he said.
I wrapped my arms around myself. I felt cold. Or maybe nervous. Or both. “Yep. Although I think it’s the Crestfield Warriors they really love. Gives people something to do besides sit home on a Friday night watching TV.”
“So, not a lot of nightlife happening here? Is that what you’re telling me?”
I smiled and finally looked at him. His eyes were like pools of water, begging me to dive in. “That would be correct,” I somehow managed to say. I nervously looked away, back to the crowds of people mulling around down below.
“What about you?” he asked. “Do you like football?”
I shrugged. “It’s all right, I guess. Mostly I like how it brings people together. Here, in the stands, with everyone cheering for the same thing, it feels nice. Safe, in a way.” I took a deep breath and looked at him again. “So, how’d you end up in Crestfield, anyway?”
“I hate that question,” he said. “I pretty much sidestep it as much as possible. But . . . I’ll tell you.”
I waited as he stared at the field. It seemed like he was having a hard time opening up, for some reason. Was he ashamed about something? I was actually a little excited by that prospect. Maybe we’d have something in common right off the bat.
“We moved here so my dad could immerse himself in small-town life.” He made quotes in the air with his fingers. “For research.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s an author, working on his next series. And what Gary Sharp wants, Gary Sharp gets.”
Mother-of-pearl, is he kidding me? His dad is Gary Sharp? The Gary Sharp? He was the most popular author of horror and thriller novels in the past ten years. I stared at Nathan. I couldn’t believe I was actually talking to Gary Sharp’s son.
Nathan turned back to me and leaned in a little. His breath smelled like bubble gum, and I swear my heart dropped to my stomach. What was I doing with this guy?
“I’m actually nothing like my dad,” he said playfully. “I hate creepy stuff.”
“But you’ve read his books, right?”
He shook his head.
My eyes got big. “Not one?”
He shook his head again.
“Wow. I read three of them last summer. He’s a really good writer!”
He laughed. “Yeah. That’s what I’ve heard.” He glanced over at the scoreboard. “Okay, five minutes of halftime left. Quick, tell me something about you. Or even better, two or three things. Before your friends come back.”
After hearing about his dad, just thinking about telling him anything about my pathetic life made me feel slightly ill. I couldn’t tell him anything really personal. Not yet, at least.
“Okay, well, let’s see. I’m pretty sure I’m the Foo Fighters’ number one fan.”
He crinkled his face. “Really?”
I sat back. “What? You don’t like them?”
“Aren’t they some old, washed-up band?”
“Are you kidding? Every album they make gets nominated for at least one Grammy Award. I don’t even know how many they’ve won, and quite a few recently.”
He scratched his nose and got quiet for a second, like he was trying to think of a good response. All he said was, “Okay, what else?”
I nervously tucked my hair behind my ears. I wasn’t used to this much interest in myself. And from a boy, no less. “I have the best job ever, at a flower shop called Full Bloom.”
“Wow, a working girl,” he said. “That’s impressive. How often do you work?”
“After school most days, and almost every Saturday. But it’s not even like a job, because I love it there so much, you know? Most of the time I get to deliver flowers, and it’s such a great feeling, bringing people a little bit of joy in a vase. Plus, I adore my boss and coworker. Honestly, I’d much rather be there than hanging out at home with nothing to do.”
Nathan sat back, leaning his elbows on the bleachers behind him. “But when do you have time for fun?”
“I don’t know. I make time, I guess.”
The cheerleaders finished their halftime routine, and I watched him eye them as they left the field. I felt like I was on a love-gone-wrong episode on a bad reality TV show. According to him, I loved a washed-up band and I never had fun. Wow, we were off to a great start.
As Alix and Felicia ambled up the steps, carrying drinks and candy, I wanted to jump up and kiss them, I was so happy they’d come back. Alix laughed at something Felicia said, causing Nathan to turn and notice them. I guess their approach prompted him to get to the point.
“Go out with me?” he asked as he stood up. “You don’t work Saturday nights, right?”
Seriously? Like, this was so much fun you can’t wait for more? I tried to think of an excuse. Maybe I already had plans. Maybe my mom and I were doing something.
“Right, I don’t work,” I said. “But—”
“Good,” he interrupted. “Meet me at the Mushroom tomorrow night at seven.”
It wasn’t a question. More of a demand. My friends stood behind him now, and Alix had obviously heard him, because she gave me a look that said, Do it or I’ll kill you, as she nodded her head like a madwoman. Pressure was coming at me from all sides, and so, I caved.
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll see you at seven.”
A look of satisfaction came over his face. “Perfect. I can’t wait.” And then he returned to his seat.
Alix sat down next to me shoving two yellow packages of M&M’s into my hands before she threw her arms around me and gave me a hug.
“You did it, you did it!” she said. “You didn’t run away!”
She was right. I didn’t. But why did a small part of me feel like that’s exactly what I should have done?
first date
SEVEN O’CLOCK. I WAS ON TIME. HE WASN’T. I SAT IN MY FAVORITE booth and waited, spinning Grandma’s ring around on the table. She’d given it to me shortly before she passed away, like she knew she’d be gone soon. The simple silver band with three tiny diamonds was my favorite thing.
An old Creedence Clearwater song, “Have You Ever Seen the Rain,” came on the classic jukebox. In eighth grade Alix and I would come here on Sunday afternoons, when the place was empty, to drink cherry Cokes and sing along with our favorite songs. We’d put our quarter in, make our selection, and then perform for a room full of tables and chairs. Sometimes the owner, Mr. Ladd, would come out and watch us. I’d get shy then, but not Alix. She’s a ham, that girl.
The place buzzed with activity as I slipped the ring back on my finger and checked my phone for the twentieth time. A group of kids sat at a large table with a pile of gifts in the middle and a big sheet cake. Balloons were tied to every chair. Family after family strode through the door, the moms’ faces all aglow because they’d been given the night off from cooking.
I thought of my mom going out to dinner with Dean tonight. He hadn’t told her about being laid off yet. He’d planned to do it this evening. When he told her about my paycheck, a small part of me wanted to believe she’d tell him I could keep my money. Logically, I knew that was about as unlikely as Dean making his own dinner. It wasn’t that my mom didn’t love me. She did, in her own way. But Dean was her savior and what he said was law. If he told her they needed my money, then it must be true.
I checked my phone again. Ten minutes late. What kind of guy makes a girl wait for him, especially on their first date? I should have gotten his phone number. I started to text Alix when Nathan slid into the seat across from me.
He smiled at me and it was like someone had opened the blinds and let in the sunshine. “Hey, beautiful. Good to see you.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe. “I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.”<
br />
He reached across the table and took my hand. “Nah. I’d never do that to you. It’d be a crime to leave a gorgeous girl like you alone.”
I sat there, speechless, because what was I supposed to say to that?
“I should order our pizza. Combination okay with you?” Nathan asked.
“Um, no onions. Please. I can’t stand onions. Just the smell of them makes me nauseous.”
He smiled again. His voice came out smooth and soft, “You can just pick off what you don’t want, how’s that?”
I started to reply, but I didn’t get a chance. He was already on his way to the counter. He was probably right, though. I could pick them off.
When he came back, Nathan brought drinks. I took a couple sips of the one he set in front of me. Diet Coke. Blech.
“Most girls I know drink Diet. Figured you probably do too, since, you know . . . ”
“What?” I asked, puzzled how someone could assume something like that. I took another sip out of nervousness.
“Because,” he said, leaning back in his seat, “you’re pretty damn hot.”
I choked, literally started choking. He laughed. “You okay? Do I need to do CPR?”
My hand went to my chest as I somehow managed to compose myself. “I’m fine. It’s just—I’m not used to all the compliments. How about we talk about something else?”
He leaned forward, his eyes trying to seduce mine. “They’re all true, you know. Everything I’ve said about you. I feel like I’ve won the lottery. A million dollar lottery.”
Now I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I held my hand out like a crossing guard trying to protect innocent children from being run over. “Nathan, seriously. Stop it!”
He leaned back, a slight grin on his face. “Okay. Fine. I’ll stop. But how will I know when it’s okay to start up again? Will you give me a signal or something?”
“How about when you find a Foo Fighters song that you can sing to me?”
He put his hands to his chest, like someone had just stabbed him. The idea clearly pained him. “No. No way. Impossible.” He raised one of his eyebrows, looking a little bit sinister. “Wait. I’ve got it. After you kiss me, anything goes. How’s that?”
Falling for You Page 3