Chapter 22

Bridget was completely sure the feeling that had been lurking inside her all day was about to unleash inexplicably in the form of a very long, loud scream muffled by the fluff of a pillow.

          But unfortunately she was still stuck in the drags of seventh period American Government.

          “--and, memorizing the first 25 amendments. You must know. This is pivotal to passing my midterm.” The teacher, Mr. Mackie said in his nasal, Kermit-the-frog-esque voice.

          Bridget felt her check press hard against her fist as she rested her chin on it. She closed her eyes, trying to rid the annoyance entering her brain every time Mr. Mackie opened his mouth. His voice. Bridget sighed, knowing it was unacceptable to be bothered by such small details.

          But five, ticking minutes at the end of one, long day…had never lasted so long.

         

Usually, Bridget wasn’t so irritable. Even the smallest imperfection in the atmosphere made her cross. And she knew picking at other people would not, in the long run, make anything better.

So she just took another dosage of deep breathing, and reflected. It was the only thing that seemed to keep her in check.

 

She had lied to Della and Charlotte.

But…Dane still wanted her.

 

Somehow the second thought seemed more important that any of the others.

Bridget sighed at the seeming simplicity of the subject. Deep down she knew if she really thought about it, the issue would soon appear as much more convoluted.

 

Looking back before the kiss with Dane, every one of Bridget’s feelings, at the time, seemed so complex and bottomless. Now, she just thought of them as simple and uncomplicated.

          …And now, her feelings were just messy and fragile…and much, much deeper.

          Bridget laughed to herself. Were they deep? What was deep? Deep what? Love?

          Her thought was interrupted by a shrill, piercing sound from the final bell. But Bridget welcomed the noise. She had been waiting for it all day.

          Mr. Mackie tried to shout above the immediate shuffle and hurry from the students trying desperately to get out the door. “FLASH. CARDS.” He suggested loudly. “I WANT EVERYONE TO PASS THIS EXAM!”

          Most of the students nodded and grumbled nonchalantly. The rest jetted out the door.

          Bridget, although happy that the long school day was over, slowly picked up her things. She was in no rush to run into anyone out in the hallway. So she took her time.

          After just half a minute, the bustling jumble of noise emitted from the main hallway died down to a quiet murmur. Bridget figured it was safe to step out to her locker at that point.

          The walk to her locker, number 92, seemed shorter than usual, probably because she made a point to walk to it quickly. Not getting noticed by anyone was her main goal.

          She twisted the dial rapidly. It spun smoothly, stopping perfectly on the number notches. Even though it was the first day back, homework was loaded on even more heavily than usual. Bridget mindfully picked up her textbooks and notebooks, trying to balance them carefully in her grasp. She reached down for the last one book, for American Government. Unfortunately, it was the heaviest, and the most awkward. Unlike all the others, it was square and thick, whereas the others were more rectangular and thin. Bridget huffed at the difficult situation.

          “Calm down,” She said to herself. There was no one else around, so Bridget spoke her thoughts aloud.

          The book fit unstably between the inside of her elbow and her forearm.

          “That will have to work, I guess,” Bridget said. She kicked her locker door shut with the tip of her shoe.

          She sighed, and turned around. There was no one in the hallway. That was unusual. People couldn’t be on the buses yet, could they?

          Bridget apprehensively looked at the clock.

          2: 40. The red digital bar read.

          The buses left at 2:35.

          Bridget sighed, dropping all of her heavy books to the ground. She crumbled down with them. Stop being dramatic. She commanded to herself. You’re being thick.

          Despite her own self-criticism, Bridget felt tears climbing up to her eyes, and soon her lids were cradling the sad droplets. This is pathetic. She assessed sardonically. You’re better than this.

          Reluctantly, Bridget picked herself up off the thinly carpeted floor, and next the heavy books she had impulsively dropped a few moments earlier. She sighed, knowing that sitting in the midst of her own self-pity would be so much easier. But she also knew that it wouldn’t help anything. It would only further delay her ability to go home and scream into her large, welcoming pillow.

          Bridget laughed at the fact that releasing all of her pent-up exasperation into a helpless cluster of fluff was still a main goal.

          Nonetheless, she loaded her textbooks back into her arms, and, with determination, started to head down the hall with every intention to walk home. Even in the snowy January weather.

          Bridget was almost to the main entrance, when she saw two silhouettes standing by the casually by the glass doors. As she got closer, she realized the two rather recognizable figures were the same people she had been trying so hard to avoid.

          Those people also happened to be her best friends.

          The shorter of the two suddenly jumped up excitedly pointed in Bridget’s direction. “Hey, look, I see her! There she is!” The hopping figure shouted to the other.

          “We better go help her with those books, Dell, before we start freaking out at her sudden presence.” The other said logically.

          Bridget had to laugh. The distinctly articulate speech from the one, and the sprightly, animated movements from the other was extremely identifiable, it was almost comical. Bridget laughed again. Not out of being humored, but out of appreciation.

          She should have known Della would keep her word. They were always there for her.

          “Hey!” Charlotte said, taking long strides down the hall. Della followed, but with a skipping pace.

          “Hi!” Bridget said. For some reason, she felt really happy that they were there. Maybe she underestimated how much they cared.

          Della took a book wedged between Bridget’s thumb and index finger. “Here,” she said, carrying it. “Geez, Bridge, what’s up with all the books? Are you really taking Mackie’s study suggestions seriously?” She laughed, but not mockingly.

          Bridget giggled. “Not exactly. But I still want to get good marks on it.”

          Charlotte nodded. “I took it last year. It’s not as bad as you think,” She said, holding a few notebooks and Bridget’s calculus book.

          Della laughed. “You say that about everything. And it’s always as bad as we think.” She began walking toward the front entrance. “Or worse.”

          Bridget and Charlotte snickered, following.

          As they came to the door, Charlotte and Della set the books down on the bench.

          “Bridget,” Charlotte said kindly. “Della and I deliberated during our simultaneous study hall, that, something is out of place with you, and we will not cease questioning until you answer us.” Charlotte put her hands on her hips, a rare stance that usually Della exemplified. 

          “Yeah,” Della agreed. “So no, ‘I’m fine’s’. We know its crap.” She smirked,

          Bridget, although extremely happy that the two of her best friends were completely willing to hear her rant on about anything that could possibly be wrong, felt slightly clashed. Something strongly disagreed with the part of her mind that wanted to tell them everything about Dane. She didn’t know what it was, but she decided to go against it.

          She set her small pile of books down on the bench. “I don’t really know…” Bridget began. She really had no clue where to begin. It was such a long story, and she wanted to spare them the painful details. Maybe I should just spill it out. “Okay, Dell, Char, Dane kissed me. He kissed me. I kissed him back. I like him…and I like him. I more than like him. And I don’t know why. And that, that scares everything in me.”  

          Bridget wanted to tell them. She really did. But something bit her words back from her tongue, not allowing them to escape from her mouth.

          Still, Della and Charlotte looked expectantly at her. She needed to say something.

          A long pause slipped by. Bridget looked down. She had to tell them. That’s what best friends did. And they wanted to know. They were giving her a perfect opportunity. She wasn’t going to deny it. Bridget took a deep breath in. “Da--”

          Della unintentionally cut her off. “Bridget, we really, really, care about you, and…you don’t have to tell us know, but, you know, good ol’ cell phones.” She held up her palm-sized phone.

          Charlotte nodded. “Yeah, and, we don’t even know if anything is really wrong. But, you’re just not acting yourself, so, we’re here to talk, any time.” She said thoughtfully.

          “’Kay?” Della said.

          Bridget sighed, letting all of her words out in the form of a breath. “Okay.” She said. “Thanks,” She said gratuitously.

          The three of them hugged tightly.

          “So. Do you need a ride home?” Charlotte asked, as they pulled back.

          Bridget pondered quickly. She could probably use a ride home, but she really just wanted to walk back…amidst the floating snow and sparkly-branched trees. It seemed like a peaceful picture in her mind. “Actually, I was thinking of walking home,” Bridget answered.

          Della cocked her head. “It’s freezing! Are you crazy?”

          Bridget shrugged, smiling.

          “Ugh,” Della said. She looked out the window, her mom’s car stopped in the front, waiting. “You sure? Char’s coming with me; too…we could all hang out!” Della exclaimed.

          Charlotte interjected. “Well, I’m going to have to go home after about half an hour. AP Chem homework calls,” She said, glancing at her backpack.

          “Oh,” Della said, disappointed. “Well, Bridge, you could still just--”

          Bridget smiled. “Dell, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. It’s just snow.”

          Della sighed lightheartedly as she picked up her stuff, moving toward the door with Charlotte. “You sure?” She insisted.

          Bridget nodded fervently. “Yes,” she said.

          “Fine.” Della scoffed jokingly. “See ya later, crazy person!” She said jovially, opening the door.

          “Bye, Bridge.” Charlotte said with a warm smile.

          Bridget laughed. “Bye, guys,” She said, waving, as they moved out the door, and into Della’s mom’s car.

          Bridget sat, the hall empty from noise, her heavy textbooks sitting next to her. I can carry these home, right? Bridget sat for a few minutes longer, not wanting to situation the books for the third time. She sighed, picking up her books, ending her procrastination.

          As soon as she positioned her materials, she decided to hook the door handle with her pinky, and attempted to pull it in. It took a few tries, but eventually the door swung open and a blast of cold air forced itself on her face.

          “Ah!” She yelped involuntarily, the biting wind almost making her sputter. She blinked her eyes shut, and opened them quickly, adjusting herself to the cold.

          Bridget let the door shut, releasing it from her pinky. She inhaled sharply, about to take a step into the snow-brushed concrete when she was suddenly… not on the ground anymore.

          Two, built arms carried her. One underneath her knees, the other backing her shoulders. It was a clean sweep; all of her bulky textbooks managed to stay conjumbled in her arms.

          After the smallest millisecond, Bridget looked up, even though she knew exactly who it was.

          Dane’s face was mostly the typical solemn-based countenance. But like most time lately, a second emotion was scattered about in the expression. His smile hinted at it playfully.

          Bridget laughed in disbelief at what was taking place; but at the same time wasn’t surprised at all.

          She let her head rest on his bicep, closing her eyes as the snowflakes slowly pattered against her face. Breathing in slowly, she felt the warmth of his chest against her. His effortless ability to carry her made Bridget feel all the more comfort in his arms.

          She opened her eyes up dreamily, as she looked around the parking lot. He was carrying her to a solid-looking charcoal gray car. Bridget figured it was his, considering it was the only for a whole entire row and a half.

          Dane carefully opened the door with his arm that Bridget’s back was resting on. He delicately slid her into the passenger seat, his eyes staring directly into hers. The green sparks flickering to Bridget made the smallest shiver in her body multiply into a million other ones spreading quickly throughout her limbs. She was familiar with this feeling, but every time it felt like she had never experienced it before.

          Dane came into the other side, the wind warbling in a gust inside the car. He shut the door, and the noise was gone.

          Silence.

          Bridget exhaled, seeing her breath float in the air momentarily. It faded.

          She waited for him to say something. Maybe a possible explanation for how he managed to have perfect timing for when she walked out the door. Or maybe, why in fact he just decided to scoop her up off her feet and in to his car.

          Bridget let her books settle onto the floor of the car. She sighed softly.

          “How did you know I was coming outside?” Bridget finally asked, her words breaking the silence like a touch against thin glass.

          Dane’s face formed an expression fit for a smirk. “You didn’t leave with your friends,” He said; his voice somehow smooth and throaty at the same time.

          Bridget had to resist the urge to shoot her eyebrows up in alarm. “How did you know that…I hadn’t already left?” she said, smiling slightly.

          Dane’s smirk widened into a playful grin. “I heard them plotting to meet you at the door.”

          Bridget giggled lightly. “How?” She asked, her voice soft.

          “They met up near my locker.” He responded, his smile still present.

          Bridget turned to him. “Ah.” She said. “And so you just…decided to wait outside…by the door…just in case I didn’t go with them?” She asked teasingly, although she was genuinely curious.

          He laughed quietly, moving his eyes around the car. “Yes,” his voice crackled.

          Bridget laughed, a little louder this time. “Stalker.” She whispered, jokingly.

          He looked over at her, his expression more flirtatious and coy then she had ever seen it. She looked at him too, letting all of her emotion stream through. Every last bit of it, every little piece from the day.

          The exchanged a coquette gaze for a moment, and suddenly Bridget found herself wanting to move over the center console, and kiss him like they had weeks ago at the restaurant. Just this time, she wouldn’t let unsure feelings take over her conscious. She wouldn’t walk away. She would stay right there, for hours, if she could.

          Her heart almost got its way. Almost. But as she was about to make her impulsive move of the day # 2, her phone vibrated, interrupted whatever moment that was about to take place.

          Bridget hated phones for that.

          Nonetheless, she slipped it out of her pocket, and opened it to see she had one new message from Mrs. Hunt, telling her that she had taken all of the kids to see the doctor, for they all had varying cases of the flu. It also included that they wouldn’t be home until about six, but Mr. Hunt would be returning at normal time.

          Bridget read through the text quickly. So basically, she knew that as soon as Dane dropped her off, she would be alone for basically three hours. Mr. Hunt usually arrived home at five-thirty, so she had enough time to just sit around and do…nothing.

          Bridget closed her phone and slid it back into her pocket. She looked over at Dane, who had just turned the keys in the ignition. The car started up, warm air immediately blasting into the cold.

          She wanted to say so many things. Like, no, don’t go just yet. I was about to kiss you. Or, something else that would involve her looking foolish. So she just kept her mouth closed.

          Bridget shortly directed him back to the Hunt’s house, which was only a short distance within a mile, so it only took what seemed like a few moments.

          He parked swiftly in the empty driveway layered with fresh snowfall. Bridget figured she should probably open the car door, get out, say goodbye, and go on into the house like a normal person, but something else defied that rationality.

          Bridget reached across the center and twisted the keys slowly down and out of the ignition. The car turned off systematically.

          Dane looked at her, a sliver of surprise hiding behind his face.

          Bridget put the keys in her pocket, got out of the car, and began walking toward the house. She didn’t have to turn around to see him follow; she was already swept off the ground again by the time she reached the front walk.

          Dane carried her expeditiously inside the house, closing the door behind them. Suddenly he stopped, right by the entrance, and set Bridget down on her feet.

          “I’ll let you decide what to do from here.” He said, looking directly to her.

          Bridget didn’t take a moment to consider any options. She knew what she wanted.

          She put her hands on his slender, yet sinewy arms. She slid them up gently to his shoulders, his neck, and then his face. She studied him for a moment, almost taking a mental photograph of his structured face, his sharp jawline, his flickering green eyes, his dark, unusually striking black hair.

          She looked to him, letting him look right back. She slid her hands back down his arms, feeling his own hands in hers. And then she let go.

          “I’ll let you decide what to do from here,” Bridget whispered, smiling demurely.

          His eyes sparked, lambent with green. 

Dane moved closer, putting his hand through her hair, strands combing between his fingers. He leaned down to her face and kissed her.

Bridget felt the barely familiar sensation tingling in her arms she kissed him back.

She placed her hand softly on his face, trying to savor every kind of moment that a kiss like that, with such a person, could produce.

          Dane lifted her up, this time her legs wrapping around his torso. He carried her over to the living room, setting her down on the ottoman that was placed in the middle of the room.

          He pulled away from her lips, kissing her on the forehead. He slid a jingling cluster of something into his pocket.

          Bridget felt her own pockets, absent with keys. She laughed. “You’re really sly,” She said. “And here I thought you actually wanted to kiss me, but I guess n--”

          He interrupted her by giving one last kiss. It was long, but soft. At last he pulled away, straightening back up. He looked at her with a solemn expression. Slightly different from the one he usually wore; it had traces of recognized affection lined in it.

Bridget wanted to say so many things…once again. Don’t leave. Stay here. Why are you going?

          She stood up too. A fret escaped her mouth. “Why did you bring me back here, if you were just going to leave?” She asked. The question was only barely serious; most of it was to find out if he actually was going to go or not.

          “So you couldn’t walk away this time.” Dane said, lightheartedly.

          “Is that supposed to make me feel guilty?” Bridget asked playfully, tossing her hair back.

          “Guilty?” Dane asked, moving toward the door. “I was just trying to sound really desperate.” He said, being heavily sarcastic.

          Bridget laughed genuinely. “I guess we both do then.” She said quietly, recalling her comment asking why he was leaving.

          He gave her a look, much like the ones that gave her shivers endlessly; just something else was displayed, not just a trace, more like saturation. Bridget couldn’t detect it at first. Gratification, caused by her indirect disclosure that she did like him? No. She thought. Not quite.

Bridget thought about it more. Was it just…simple happiness?

She looked at him again. Yes. Definitely. She smiled, allowing her own happiness to shine through, even though it felt foolish.

          The both of them were standing by the door, face to face, just exchanging the same gaze.

Bridget knew she was never a gaze-y kind of girl. She also never thought of herself as the hopeless dreamy kind, the kind that allowed herself to be carried amorously into a house. Bridget never pictured that, ever. But for some reason, it seemed as though what she had never pictured, was exactly what was happening.

          “Well,” Bridget said. “You should go.” She said, knowing that Mrs. Hunt wouldn’t exactly approve of what was going on at the moment.

          Dane semi-nodded, turning the door’s handle.

          Bridget didn’t want to say bye, and she also realized that his hand was still grasped in hers. So she didn’t say goodbye. She just squeezed his hand, signifying it.

          Dane gave her a jocund half-smirk, and let his eyes remain on hers for a moment.

          He didn’t say anything, but his expression held it all. And with that, he left out the door into glacial, winter air.

          The door shut with a normal click. Bridget stood there, stationary; for a moment or two, and then turned her back, about to walk upstairs to her room. Suddenly she felt a large, icy wind blast onto her back.

          Bridget turned right around, first seeing Dane’s face. For a reason she knew very well, a giant wave of bliss and relief swept over her.

          “Hey,” Bridget said, breathlessly. “Wh--” She then noticed a large pile of books in his hands. “Oh.” She said, barely audible. “Thanks, Dane,” She said. Bridget walked closer toward him, back to the door. She took the books, setting them on the floor.

          She wasn’t sure what she wanted, but Bridget knew if Dane just…left…somehow that would make her feel like something was missing. But like most times, she didn’t have to say anything, Dane did exactly what she wanted without her speaking.

          Soon his arms were wrapped around her, holding her tight. Bridget cuddled back, feeling her arms spike with elation as she pressed her head lightly into his formed chest.

          After a few minutes, they each pulled back, and she opened the door, letting him leave.

          Dane’s eyes glimmered back to her as he left. Something in them whispered that he wanted to stay. Bridget wanted that too. But she didn’t want to impose on the Hunt’s possible disapproval. The last thing she wanted was for one of them to walk through the door, see her and Dane, and Bridget realizing she lost track of time.

Absolutely the last thing. Ever.

          Even so, Bridget sighed happily as she leapt up the stairs to her room. She then flopped on her bed, wrapping her arms around the large, fluffy pillow that sat on the tip of her bed.

          And Bridget realized, as she pressed her face into the seemingly endless square of softness, there was absolutely no desire to scream into it anymore. She was okay now. All of the day’s exasperation seemed a bazillion miles away.

          Suddenly her door opened, making a mousey “creak” noise.

          Bridget whipped her head around.

         

        Sophie stood casually in the door way, half-grinning. 

"So," she said, coming into the room. “Who was that?” 

Reviews

[Short.Nerd]

OH my gosh I died laughing when Sophie came in that was just to great. I love it :D Bwahaha oh wow! xD I'm still laughing (well kinda xD )

Excellent chapter as always:) I really liked this one! Keep up the great work.

[compositionc]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.
SOPHIE WAS THERERERERE
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

That was epic. Dane sounds hot. Scary, yet hot. Ha. Bridge's having more luck than Lizzy...