My Stupid Girl Page 6

  "He told me that he was supposed to bring you your car. So I told him I would do it." She looked pleased with herself. "It was my first time driving stick shift."

  "Wait, what?" I said quickly. "You drove my car here, in the rain. You've never driven a stick before?!"

  "Um, yes? I made it here; your car is fine!" She said defensively.

  "I'm not worried about my car, Lucy. That thing is on its last leg, it’s about to die any day. And you were driving in this rain on the icy roads? Seriously?”

  My face was turning red, I could feel it. I was going to hit Johnny the next time I saw him. Lucy looked down like she realized, for the first time, that her whole escapade had been something other than the best idea ever. Then her concerned look vanished and she put her hand up to her mouth.

  "What?" I said, staring at her huge blue eyes. She dropped her hand and then started to giggle.

  "I just realized I drove your car up here to see you!" Was she being serious? Hadn't we just gone over this?

  "You’re going to have to drive me back home!" She bent over, laughing her obnoxious laugh and slapping her knee like this was the best joke she ever told.

  "Wow, you’re a nerd." I said it without thinking. I instantly grimaced because it was something that I would say to one of my close friends, definitely not to a girl I’d only met twice. But I’d just had a moment of feeling completely comfortable around her and had said something without thinking. Cringing, I snuck a glance at her and she was beaming at me.

  "Total nerd,” she agreed. “I can’t believe I did that!" She shook her head again. "I guess all I could think about was coming to see you. I hadn't thought the whole thing through." She looked apologetically at me and shrugged her shoulders.

  "Well, I'm glad you came," I said quietly.

  "You are?" Her head popped back up. She asked in such a sweet voice that seriously I considered melting.

  "Yeah." I answered her. I was dying. I was a bleeding heart, whispering sugary reassurances to a gorgeous girl who was sitting on my bed. I’d known her a few weeks and this girl was getting closer to me than almost anyone else in my life ever had, barging into my space and prying me open. It was extremely uncomfortable. I looked at the clock on my wall, which was a nervous habit of mine, and saw what time it was. Almost eleven at night.

  "Um, do you want me to take you home now? It’s late. Won’t Mike be worried?" I asked her, trying not to sound curious. Or bitter. Super, angry bitter.

  "Uh, NO! I just GOT here!" She shrieked at me.

  I looked down at my lap, trying not to show the look of pure pleasure that had exploded on my face. I was grinning like an idiot.

  "Mike and I broke up last week." I ditched the looking-down thing. I couldn't hide the fact that I was delighted.

  "So, how late is too late?" In the back of my head was the knowledge that, no matter when we left, I also had the whole hour car ride back to Kalispell with her. I was floating about five miles up on good vibes alone.

  "It’s the weekend, I can stay out as late as I want." She was bouncing on my bed, like she was bored out of her mind with this conversation. I hoped that she wasn't thinking of asking me what we should be doing, because I had absolutely no idea what there was to do in this town. Every day that I’d been here had been the same schedule, which involved sleep, school, home, and repeat.

  "Ooh! Let’s go to the lighthouse," she said, standing up and walking over to my closet. "Can I wear this?"

  She pulled my jacket out of the closet and held it up for me to see what she was asking for, put it on without a response from me, then opened my drawer to find some socks. She looked completely comfortable walking around my room, like we were the best of friends. Or like she lived there.

  "Yeah," I shrugged. With each layer her clothes kept getting baggier and she kept getting cuter.

  "Yes to the jacket, or to the lighthouse?"

  "Both. But what’s with the lighthouse?" I went to my closet and put on a few long sleeved shirts.

  "I’ve heard that the stars look amazing from there. It’s like a local tourist attraction." She was beaming at me. “You really don’t get out much, do you?”

  "It’s raining," I said, pointing to the window.

  "Oh, bah humbug, Mr. Grinch!"

  I laughed. "Should we go out the window or the door?

  She tightened the jacket around her chest. "The door I think. I'm not climbing out and risking getting eaten by that dog." She smacked my shoulder. “Since no one will PROTECT ME.”

  I grinned again and started walking toward the bedroom door.

  "Your grandma won’t care that I was in here?" She said, looking cautiously at my closed door.

  "I doubt it; she’s out bowling with some friends. And, what? You’re worried about my grandma? You’re an hour away from home in a strange boy’s bedroom. Your parents won’t care that you were in here?"

  Her lips went to one side and she shook her head at me like I was totally over-reacting. But then I thought it was probably too late for either of us to even care about this kind of thing. The same thought must have occurred to Lucy, because she looked at the clothes she had on, and looked out the window she had just made me rescue her from, and laughed. She laughed so hard that she had to sit down on my bed again. She was overflowing with joy. It was contagious.

  I felt her passion for life when she laughed like that, and I wanted more. I had never been around anyone who saw the funny in random situations; who wanted to go look at the stars, even though there were none out. Someone who didn't care what she looked like but beauty still seeped from every pore. It was like she had a blessing or charm on her that I couldn't see, but it was just there. She reached for my hand and caught it before I could plunge it into my pocket. She was quick.

  "It’s dark; lead the way." She gave me a nudge and we took off, me walking her through the quiet house. I could have turned the lights on, I guess. As we got to the front door, we realized it wasn't raining anymore, but now it was freezing.

  "Geez, let’s get in the car and put the heater on!" She stepped in front of me and dragged me to my car. It occurred to me that I should be opening the door for her; I’d never done this before. I opened the door for the beautiful girl and waited until all limbs were completely in the car before I shut it. Win.

  I walked slowly around to the driver’s side, taking a few deep breaths to pull myself together. I saw her fingers flipping up the lock and opening my door from the inside. Another win. I nodded thanks at her, sat down, and turned the car on. She turned the heat up to the highest possible setting the second the engine started.

  "We should let the car warm up for a minute, first," I explained to her, turning down the dials.

  "That’s what my dad always says." She frowned at the front dash like it wasn't doing its job fast enough. I smiled at her; she was very impatient.

  The lighthouse was only ten miles away. The interior of the car had just started warming up when we spotted the dark column (which hadn’t been used in decades) jutting out of the landscape. We winded down a long road in the middle of a big open field. I parked in front of the giant pillar. We discussed a plan of action and, on the count of three, ran out of the car and headed straight for the door at the base of the tower. Lucy flung it open so we could rush inside. It was dark and dry and infested with cobwebs. It smelled like dirt and mold.

  "Charming," I said into the darkness.

  "Wow, look at those stairs.” We both stood in silence for a minute, contemplating the spiraling staircase that rose to a little pin of natural light at the top. “Are we supposed to walk up the whole way?" She bent her head back, stepping back a few steps, exaggerating the height. Her hair fell like a waterfall behind her, cascading toward the ground. Be still my heart. I wasn’t even looking at the stairs. She looked over at me and caught me staring at her. I looked down quickly and made sure my hair was in the right place, firmly in front of my right eye. Speaking was what I needed to break the mood. Speech with
blistering sarcasm.

  "I'm assuming the stairs are the way to go. But wait!”

  She looked at me expectantly.

  “Did we miss the elevator?!"

  She just smiled and I felt her hand go in mine. I didn't even try to put it in my pockets this time, I just went with it. She pulled me up seven flights of stairs.

  We didn't talk, just walked and walked and walked up until we couldn't go up anymore. Blocking our way at the top was a broken down door that would only open half way. We squeezed through it out into a big sky with a million stars.

  "See! Stars!" She nudged my elbow, bouncing excitedly. I nodded at her. I was excited too, but I just patted my hair down again. I suddenly realized I was wearing my glasses. I’d forgotten to put my contacts in before I left the house. She hadn’t said a thing. I kind of liked that.

  We walked to the railing and she leaned up against it, linking our arms together and forcing me to stand right next to her. I didn't like her on this side of me, the right side, but I didn't want to bring attention to it so I just let it go. She felt warm with her arm against me. Her hand rested on top of mine and I felt her head settle on my shoulder. We stood there in silence for a long time. It wasn’t awkward silence. I didn’t feel like I had to be talking. I was perfectly at ease in this moment. I put the side of my face down on top of her head and felt her breathe in, like she was about to talk.

  "My mom told me why you had to go live with your Grandma," she said quietly into the sky. I sighed deeply and picked my head back up. Was nothing a secret in that town?

  "Yeah?" I took my hand out from under hers and folded my arms, leaning against the railing with my elbows. She didn't fight my hand, but kept our arms locked tight. I willed her to give it up and go back to the peaceful silence.

  "Are you ok?" She was looking at me through my curtain of hair.

  "I'm fine." Come on. Leave it alone. She was quiet for a moment and I thought I was free.

  "Is this the first time you were taken away from your Dad?"

  I sighed, but I could hear honest concern in her voice. No point in avoiding talking about it, she probably already knew anyways. I sat down, my legs hanging over the edge, between the bars. Lucy settled beside me, nestling her head back onto my shoulder.

  "No; when I was nine I got taken away for a couple of years. I went to live with a foster family in Kalispell. They were pretty nice." I answered in a robotic tone.

  "How come you got taken away?" Her voice was still really soft.

  "When I was nine?" I asked, knowing exactly what she meant, I was just stalling.

  "Yeah, when you were little. What happened?"

  "My dad, he’s pretty physical when he drinks but this particular time he punched me hard enough to pop a blood vessel in my eye and opened up some skin. Honestly, I don't think he even remembers doing it. But my teacher saw it the next day at school and called CPS."

  "But you went back to live with him, right? That means he actually tried to get you back. So he must have wanted you enough to change, right?" She sounded like she was trying to find the positive in the situation.

  "Yeah, I guess. I think he felt badly enough to try to fix it. After that he kept to himself for a long time, probably afraid he would do the same thing again." I could feel her arm tighten around mine. It felt safe. Silence again, for a little bit. But then something else occurred to her.

  "Why didn't you go live with your grandma the first time?" She asked.

  "I think it was because she is old and a little strange," I told her, smiling. “They wanted me to go with a young family that had other kids. But it didn't do much for my social awkwardness, even though I'm sure that’s what they were hoping for."

  "But they are letting you live with her now because you’re older and you can pretty much take care of yourself?" She sounded like she was figuring it out.

  "Yeah, I'm guessing. She is a very nice woman. I think she and my mom were a lot alike." My voice trailed off. I realized too late that I had opened up a new can of worms.

  "What happened to your mom?" Lucy’s voice was almost a whisper. I waited a minute to answer. Lucy didn’t say anything else; she just waited with me.

  "She died when I was a few months old. I have no memory of her at all, but anyone who knew her tells me how great she was." She turned her head as I looked over at her. I gave her the best smile I could muster up. It wasn’t an un-honest smile, more of an apologetic smile. There wasn’t a whole lot to say about my mom. Lucy returned my half-hearted grin with tender eyes then turned her gaze back up at the stars.

  "What about you?“ I hoped I didn’t sound like I was trying to get the conversation off myself, even though I was. The beautiful girl next to me smiled and took a deep breath.

  "Well, I'm an only child. My parents are still married." She looked up in the air like she couldn’t think of anything else.

  "What are you parents like?" I asked her, which prompted that obnoxious laugh again.

  "They are total opposites, the pair of them. My mom is really fun and artistic. She is kind of messy but tries really hard to be a good mom and wife. My dad is really strict, a straight arrow, but he is very kind and gracious. He is super quiet.” She paused, and the next words came out in a rush, like she wanted to get them out, “you remind me of him actually." She turned her face towards me again, boring holes in my eyes.

  "Opposites attract." I said stupidly, hoping that she knew I was talking about her parents.

  "It seems that way a lot of times, doesn’t it?" Her head returned to my shoulder when she spoke. "I want a marriage like they have. They balance each other out so well. It seems where one is lacking the other is strong."

  "You are like your mom." I said to her.

  "Yeah, that’s what everyone says." She beamed at me like I’d given her the biggest compliment of her life, which was kind of funny. If someone told me I was like my dad I would probably punch them in the face.

  Which, in hindsight, would make them correct.

  "How come you and ‘pretty boy’ broke up?" I attempted to ask casually, trying to make it seem like it had just occurred to me. Like I hadn’t been thinking about it all night long. I could feel her frown, even though she didn’t move her head.

  "Ahh, well, you know. People grow apart. You realize you want different things. Yada Yada Yada." She spoke quickly, in a rush, like I had hit a nerve. “Besides, isn’t that a little hypocritical, calling him a ‘pretty boy’?”

  “What, what? Why?” I hoped she didn’t consider me a pretty boy.

  “Nothing.” She said, turning her head up at me with a sly smile. It was really unfair that she could be so maddening and strikingly precious all at the same flipping time. I decided to ignore her latest jab, and tried to continue with my own line of questioning. It was only fair.

  "You two seemed like a good fit." I wasn’t managing to hide the bitterness in my voice and I knew it.

  "Why? You think we belong together because we’re both popular? Because we both have the same friends and share similar beliefs?" Her voice sounded flat, and her shoulder was kind of stiff like she was feeling squeamish. But I honestly liked seeing more than the squeaky, fun bubbles in her personality. It made her real. It wasn’t all sunshine and unicorns and sparkles. At least not ALL the time.

  "Yep!" I said, "that’s exactly what I thought."

  "Well, you’re wrong, David." She glared at me, giving my arm a little slack for the first time since we’d sat down. "I don’t want someone in my life that just looks the part. I want the real deal!" She looked deep into my eyes. All noise suddenly got shut out, like I had been plunged underwater. My stomach did about six somersaults at that look, without my permission. It took me a minute to get the next words out.

  "So, what are you doing here with me?" I couldn’t help but ask. This whole night seemed like a contradiction to me.

  "Because you’re real." She didn’t even wait for a response, her gaze immediately turned back to the night. I said no
thing. It was deafening.

  "I want to be like you, David," she blurted into the night.

  "What are you talking about?" I asked, stunned.

  "You’re so..." she paused, stuck, but looked determined to explain herself. "You are very kind." It came out slowly, like that wasn't exactly what she meant to say but that was the best she could come up with on short notice.

  "I'm kind?” I barked out a hard laugh. “You don't know me, Lucy."

  She wouldn't be saying that if she knew how I felt about her before we had officially met.

  "I do, a little.” My snort went ignored and she kept going, “I want to get to know you more, but I see that you have a heart like God’s. More than anyone else I've ever met, anyways." She was being serious; I could tell by the way she was looking at me. I, however, was totally lost.

  "I don't even know what that means," I said.

  "Listen, I went to the lake with my youth group from church. Not one of them tried to save me. I mean,” her face scrunched up, “I guess Mike did, but when he felt like his life was in danger he bailed. You, a stranger, ran after me and when you saw the situation get worse you didn't run away. You actually went in after me. So,” her voice took on a confident tone like she was wrapping it up nicely, “you’re like God. You risked your life to save mine. That’s why I want to be like you! A lot of people talk the talk, but I see you doing it."

  She kept her eyes locked on mine the whole time she was talking. When she was done she reached up to pull the hair out of my eyes. I quickly grabbed her long fingers but I didn't want to push her away, which was usually my first reaction. Instead, I redirected her hand, placing her palm on the hollow of my neck right near my collarbone. She raised her eyebrows at me. She wanted a response.

  "I really have no idea what you’re talking about." I reached out slowly and stroked her left check with my thumb. She closed her eyes. She lifted her face up and when she opened her eyes they were smoldering. No one had ever looked at me like that before. I had this intense urge to touch her face again.

  Instantly a battle had begun in my head and was now raging. I wanted to be close to this girl, I wanted her in my life. She had already changed me so much. But here I was, with an opportunity to get even closer to her, and I felt myself backing off. I was ready to get up and walk out. Every muscle in my body was practically screaming for me to get away.