Confused, Excited, and Happy

Change of everything

Confused, Excited, and Happy

Chapter 4

 

          Danny knots our pinkies together as we stroll down the road. When we finally reach my driveway, our hands have met. I fiddle with my keys while I climb up the porch steps, still holding Danny’s hand.

          “Thank you,” I turn to Danny, “Thank you for helping me.”

          “No problem. We still on for tomorrow night?” He stares into my eyes.

          “As far as I know, my plans haven’t changed.”

          “Ok. Good. So, uh. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiles.

          “’Kay. Bye.” I turn away and let go of Danny’s hand, but he doesn’t let go of mine. I spin back around and look down at our hands, then up into his eyes with a confused expression. He tugs on my hand making me walk closer, and leans in to peck me on the cheek. His lips are smooth against my face. I feel my stomach fill with butterflies as he pulls away and smiles. My cheeks grow red with a deep blush. Danny laughs at me again.

          “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiles.

          “’Kay.” I say in a small voice.

          “Bye.” He says, letting go of my hand. He turns and jogs down the porch steps. I watch him get into his pickup and drive away before walking inside. Once inside, I back up against the door and slouch down into a fetal position. I smile. Danny kissed me again. I sigh with complete happiness.

          Ok. I know I’m not supposed to like him like this, but I can’t help it. He’s gorgeous, sweet, and thoughtful. Basically, he’s the perfect guy. Who wouldn’t fall for someone like him? An idiot, that’s who. I pull my phone out of my pocket and text Lindsay a quick recap of my evening. All I get back is a bunch of smiley faces. Then I tell her to ‘shove it.’  The idea that my friends are making fun of me, slips into my head, but I push it away. My friends aren’t like that. I get off the floor and stumble into the kitchen. The sunlight is coming in through the window above the sink. It bathes our kitchen in an auburn light. The clock on the wall beside me says it’s past six o’clock. My mom won’t be getting home for a few more hours. I look around, trying to find something to do, but fail. I suddenly feel very tired. I might as well get ready for bed, it’s not like I have anything else to do. I steady myself over the tub and fill it with hot water and bath bubbles. The steam clears my head as it rises up against my face. The water smells of vanilla and lavender. I let my clothes fall to the tile beneath me and I submerge under the warm ripples.

          Later that night, I dream of walking in the woods. Danny is walking next to me. He’s wearing fur. It looks exactly like the fur from the wolf. Tan, scruffy, knotted in places. He has it wrapped around his shoulders. When he turns to look at me, I see the head of the wolf perched on his shoulder. Motionless, lifeless, very dead. It’s the same wolf we helped today. I look into Danny’s eyes, horrified, and he smiles an evil grin. At that same moment, the wolf’s head comes to life and wraps its mighty jaws around Danny’s neck. He bites down, blood runs down Danny’s shirt, and his head drops down off his shoulders. His eyes are still locked on me. I scream.

          I launch myself into consciousness as I sit up in my bed, gasping for air, with my arms supporting me from behind. I reach my hand up and cover my mouth to calm myself down. My heart is racing. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and crisscross my legs. My head sinks down into my hands and I take a deep breath. I sit, motionless, until my heart rate slows. When my heartbeat has come to ninety beats per minute, I lay back down on my pillow. My clock illuminates the room with red light. It gives me an eerie feeling after what I just encountered, subconsciously. The darkness actually feels like it’s tightening in on me, like it’s sucking all the air out of the room, choking me. I scramble out of bed, reaching for my windows. I unlock the hinges and push the windows out into the cold, night air. The moon, glowing bright against the night sky, shines fresh white light onto my hard wood floors. The light redirects off the floor, spreading out over my walls, killing the darkness. In seconds, my room is washed white. I stare at the moon, transfixed on its appealing look. I’m suddenly eager to howl at it, like a wolf. Not in a funny way, but in a strange sense, like its building up in my chest, waiting to be released. I refrain from making a sound until the urge passes. I seat myself in my bay window and lean my head against the wall, breathing slowly. The air is cold, slightly wet, and weightless. It carries the sounds of life to my window. I hear crickets singing their sweet lullaby of in the trees. My sight dances across the scene before me. I pick up every sign of movement in my presence. A bat glides along with the breeze, carried by the air. An owl is perched in a tree, not far from my window, cooing to me. But one movement catches the corner of my eye, and I’m drawn to it. Against the edge of the woods, just under the shadow of the trees, I see a pair of eyes. They are glowing bright green. We gaze at each other. Not moving. Calm. Quiet. The wind brushes my lawn, picking up leaves along the way, making them fly. Still I do not take my sight from my intruder. I am scared of, yet beckoned to these eyes. A few minutes pass and the eyes pull back into the shadows, as if whoever they belong to, is turning around. I cannot make out what the form is, but a big, bushy, tan tail swings into the light. I gasp. It’s the wolf.

          The next day passes slowly. I can’t get last night out of my head. Why would the wolf come back? Was that its way of thanking me? Was it lost? Did it follow me home? I shudder. The thought of anything following me, without me knowing, frightens me. Maybe I could stay up tonight, catch it sneaking onto our property. A twinge of forgetfulness surges in the back of my head. What was I doing tonight? I look around the class room and spot all of my friends. Danny shifts in his seat next to me. That triggers my remembrance. Danny and I are going on our second date tonight. I feel the butterflies beginning to surface when I think of yesterday, when I said goodbye to Danny. I turn to him and say “We have a date tonight, don’t we?”

          “Yep. Why? Did u forget?” He asks.

          “Actually, yah I did. I don’t know why, but I did. I didn’t sleep very well. Maybe that’s why it slipped my mind.”

          “Oh, I see where I rank. . .” He smirks, teasing.

          “Oh, shush.” I roll my eyes.

          “Well. I guess I’ll see you later. I’ll call you when I’m on my way over.”

          “Okay.”

          The bell rings and we’re dismissed for the weekend. Walking home, I call Lindsay. She picks me up halfway, and we speed to my house in her PT Cruiser.

 We sit down at my vanity, she makes sure I can’t see myself in the mirror, and then she begins to search through her bag. She helps me with my outfit (a fitted, royal blue, T-shirt with light-wash Levi’s) and my hair (she crimped it, like I just took it out of braids.) She makes me put on eyeliner and peach flavored lip gloss, which probably makes my lips look wet, and hands me a mirror. I gaze at my reflection. My hair is parts down the middle, wavy, and chocolate brown. My eyes are dark and focused. My lips look fuller, and not at all too wet with gloss. I don’t look half bad.

“Thank you.” I smile.

“No problem. You look great.” She fidgets in her seat.

“Danny kissed me again,” I pause, and Lindsay’s face lights up, she’s about to say something but I beat her to it, “on the cheek!”

“Tisk-Tisk. This boy needs to do some major lip lockage with you.” My mouth drops open and I hit her on the shoulder.

“What?” She smiles.

I roll my eyes.

Danny arrives and drives us to the theater. It’s crowded and hard to walk through the lobby. I walk up to the concession stand and ask for a large popcorn.

“You want anything?” I ask Danny.

“Nah. I’m good. I’ll just steal some popcorn from you.” He laughs.

“You can have some, anyway. Why do you think I got a large?” I smile.

“So what theater are we in?” I ask as I grab a hand full of popcorn.

“Number 3.” He says looking at our tickets.

“Okay, so we head off that way.” I point to my right.

“Yep. Let’s go.”

We weave our way through the crowd with our arms linked together. When we reach the door to the theater, we drop our arms to ourselves.

We laugh during the movie. At one point I cry because I am laughing so hard. The night ends perfectly. We’re both in a good mood and we had lots of fun. Now it’s time to go home.

          “Eh. I really don’t want to go home. I’m having too much fun with you.” I smile.

          “Yah. We should do this again.” He hints.

          “Are you asking me out on another date?” I accuse.

          “Maybe. . .” He smiles.

          “Wow. You must really like me, if you’re willing to put up with me for this long.” We both laugh.

          “And what if I did like you a lot?” He raises his eyebrow.

          “Well then, I would be very confused. . . and very happy.” I grin.

          Danny laughs at me and puts his right arm around my shoulder, leading us to the front doors. I wrap my left arm, back, and around his waist. He doesn’t seem to mind.

          He walks us out to his truck, and opens the door for me.

          “Very gentleman-like.” I grin.

          “Yep. I’m not mean like other guys.” He chuckles.

          We drive the rest of the way home, laughing, reminiscing about the comedy we just watched. We both seem slap-happy, the way we laugh at everything that passes. It’s a very nice night. And to make things better, it’s Friday night. Danny and I could hangout this weekend.

          He walks me up to the front door and I fiddle with my keys, trying to stall from going inside, I don’t want this night to end.

          “So. . . Uh. . .” I mumble.

          “Yah.” He’s looking down at his feet.

          “Hey. I’ve got a tire swing in the backyard. You wanna go sit down?” I ask, still fiddling with my keys. I’m looking for any excuse to keep this night going.

          “Sure.” He smiles. I can tell he doesn’t want this night to end, either.

          We walk around back and find the swing moving in the wind. It taps itself against the trunk.

          I brush my seat off and balance myself as I climb in. I rearrange myself until I’m comfortable.

          “You good?” Danny teases.

          “Yep. Climb in.” I order, with a smile.

          Danny swings one leg over the tire and sits down, one leg in, one leg out. For some reason I think of the Hokey-Pokey. Danny pushes the tire in a circle and we spin.

          We start laughing as we get dizzy, and it becomes quiet.

          I close my eyes and listen to the life around me. I can hear Danny breathing slowly beside me, crickets in the distance, and way far away, I hear large wings, beating up and down, maybe it’s an owl.

          I feel Danny’s eyes on my face and I glance over at him. His eyes are sparkling in the moonlight. They’re drawing me in.

          “How many boyfriends have you had?” Danny asks.

          I blush and say, “Zero.”

          Danny seems surprised.

          “You’ve never had a boyfriend?” He puts his right hand on my knee.

          “No. . . Why?” I ask, looking at Danny’s hand.

          “It’s just. . . Nevermind.”

          “What? What were you going to say?”

          “It’s just that, I thought that a girl as great as you would have caught someone’s eye. But then again, you caught mine.”

          I blush even more. I begin to say something, but come up with no words.

          “I’m flattered.”

          “You’re welcome. I already know that you think I’m cute. You told me when we met. Remember?” He smiles.

          I laugh. “Yah. I remember.”

          “How many girlfriends have you had?” I stare down at my sneakers.

          “One,” He replies, “but she wasn’t a good girlfriend. She cheated on me with one of my friends.”

          I’m utterly flabbergasted. “Who in their right mind would cheat on someone like you?!? You’re perfect boyfriend material!” I blush after realizing what all I’ve said, and look away.

          “She did. So someone like her.”

          “You loved her. Didn’t you?” I look him straight in the eyes.

          “I thought she was the one for me.”

          “I’m sorry.”

          He looks up at me and says, “Why? It’s not your fault.”

          “I don’t know what a broken heart feels like. So I can’t relate. All I can do is feel compassion for you.”

          “Thank you. You’re very sweet.”

          “You’re welcome. Do you miss her?”

          “Nope.”

          “Do you think you’re doing better without her?”

          “Yes.”

          “Do you ever think you would get that close to someone again?”

          He looks up at me, “Maybe. It all depends on what I find, or what I’ve found.” He smiles.

          I smile back. “Danny? What’s your family like?”

          “They’re a really crazy bunch. But, I love them.”

          “That’s good.”

          “What about yours?”

          “Well, I’ve got a mom, a step dad, and a dog.”

          “What happened to your biological father?”

          “I don’t know.”

          “Why’s that?”

          “My mom doesn’t like talking about him.”

          “Oh. I’m sorry. What’s your step dad like?”

          “He’s alright. He has his days.”

          “Oh. What’s your mom like?”

          “She’s a crazy, energetic, maniac that loves to work. She’s kind of like my second best friend.” I smile, watching my feet play with the wet grass.

          “That’s good. What kind of dog do you have?”

          “His name is Charlie, and he’s an all black German Sheppard, except for this little white spot behind his ear. That’s kind of why we picked him. He was the only ‘almost-all-black’ puppy, out of his litter. He was unique. I remember the day we got him. When we got home, he piddled all over the kitchen floor. My parents were so mad.”

          He laughs. “Well, at least you guys kept him.”

          “Yep.”

          “Do you have any pets?”

          “No. But, we used to have a cat. Her name was Tootsie. Like the Tootsie Roll. She was a Russian Blue. She was such a friendly cat. But she died before we moved.”

          “How old was she?”

          “Five.”

          “Wow. That’s pretty young. How’d she die?”

          “She got sick with some disease. I forget what the name of it was. But, it was a pretty serious one.”

          “Awww. How sad.”

          “Yah. She was a good cat.”

          “I’m sorry.”

          “So, how long have you lived in Bayfield?”

          “My whole life.”

          “Oh. How many friends do you have?”

          “Well, you know my BFF, Lindsay. Then, there’s Katie; she’s the blonde one in gym, Sydney; she’s the African American at our lunch table, Kaylin; she’s the brunette from Trigonometry, and Sarah; I’ve known her since Elementary School, she’s the one with the red hair. That’s my posse.”

          “Heh. Nice.”

          “How many friends do you have?”

          “Including you? One.”

          I feel a stab of pain at the fact that he considers me just a friend. “I’m your friend?”

          “Yah.”

          “But, we’re dating. Wait! You don’t have any friends?!?”

          “Nope. Like I said, we move a lot.”

          “Oh.”

          “We’re dating?” He smiles, raising one eyebrow.

          “Uh. . .Well. . .I thought we were. . .Why? We aren’t dating? If we aren’t, then what do you call what we just went on?”

          “I was kidding. But, in my book, we aren’t officially dating.”

          “Oh. Fine!” I cross my arms and turn my head, teasing.

          He laughs at me.

          “Why aren’t we dating?”

          “Because, we haven’t done something yet.”

          I blush as I ask, “What haven’t we done yet?”

          “I’m not telling you!” He laughs.

          “Why not?”

          “It’s a surprise.”

          “Oh. I see.”

          “See what?” He teases.

          “You know what I mean!” I laugh.

          A few minutes of silence, pass.

          “So you don’t have a best friend?” I ask.

          “Nope. The only best friend I ever had, was the one that stole my girlfriend.”

          “Oh my gosh.  I’m so sorry.”

          “Stop apologizing,” He laughs, “it wasn’t your fault. You weren’t even there to witness it.”

          “I know. But, I feel bad.”

          “Well, don’t. I’m perfectly happy, now.” He looks into my eyes. I can tell he means ‘I’m happy now that I’m with you.’ A cloud of butterflies takes of in my stomach and flitters through my veins. I can feel my blood rushing up to my cheeks, but I ignore it.

          “So. . . Anyway.” I mutter. “Do you have any hobbies?”

          “Uh . . . I like to . . . paint.” He says, embarrassed.

          “Really?”

          “Yah. Everyone thinks it’s weird for someone like me to be a painter. I don’t know why, though.”

          “It’s because you look like you’re into sports, not art. So you look like a jock.”

          “Oh. Well, yah. I work out a lot. But, it’s not to impress anybody. It’s just to keep myself healthy.”

          “Yah. The popular girls at our school like guys that look like you. Did they ever talk to you?”

          “Yah. On my first day. When I was walking to lunch. They stopped me and asked if I wanted to sit with them, but, I told them that I wasn’t interested, that I would sit by myself, and they acted like they were just slapped in the face.”

          I bust out laughing. “Oh man. I wish I’d been there to see that. I hate them. They act like every bows down to them. It bugs the crap out of me.”

          “I had girls like that at my old school. That’s how I got my last girlfriend.”

          “Oh.” An awkward pause, and I say, “Are you glad I’m not like them?”

          “Very.” He smiles.

          “Thanks. I’m unique, aren’t I?” I tease.

          “Oh yah.” He rolls his eyes jokingly.

          I laugh. “How long do you think you’ll be living here?”

          “Can’t say.”

          “Why not?”

          “’Cause I don’t know.”

          “Oh.” My stomach makes a growling noise, and I clutch it with my right hand.

          “Are you hungry?” He asks, spinning us again.

          “A little bit. Hey. Do you like brownies?”

          “Yes. They’re great.”

          “Well, we could make some. My mom is still at work and my step dad is working the night shift, tonight. You wanna come inside?”

          “Sure.”

          “Ok. Come on.”

          I lead us around to the front door and unlock it. Charlie pokes his head around the corner.

          “Hey, buddy. Come here.” I bend down on one knee and stretch out my hand.

          He waddles over to me and licks my palm. Danny bends down next to me.

          “Hey, there.” He says, scratching behind Charlie’s ear.

          He starts drooling, which means he’s enjoying it, and rolls over on his back. Danny starts rubbing his tummy while I walk into the kitchen and pull out all the ingredients for brownies. I find my mom’s cookbook in the cupboard and flip through it until I find the right recipe. Danny comes into the kitchen and leans against the wall.

          “So you’re a cook?” He asks.

          “Conditionally. Sometimes, my mom cooks, and sometimes I cook. It’s fifty-fifty.”

          “Oh. Are you a good cook?”

          “I guess,” I shrug my shoulders, “nobody ever complains.”

          “That’s good. Not very reassuring, but, good.” He crosses his arms.

          “You gonna help me?” I look over at him.

          “Oh. Sure. Whacha want me to do first?”

          “Crack these eggs.”

          “Can do.”

          Fifteen minutes (and lots of flour throwing) later, I place the tray in the oven and let it bake. Danny has flour all over his shirt and I’ve got it all over my apron. It’s in our hair, too, so we stand outside and shake, until flour stops falling to the ground. When we come back inside, I pour us both a glass of whole milk, and sit down.

          “Tonight’s turning out to be great.” He says.

          “Yah. I haven’t had this much fun since me and Lindsay’s last sleepover.” I take a drink of my milk.

          “What happened?” He laughs.

          “We got into a pillow fight . . . with my mom.” I smile.

          He laughs. “Wow. I’ve never been in a pillow fight.”

          “Seriously?”

          “Yep.”

          “Wow. I’ll have to beat you with a pillow one of these times.” I tease.

          “Ooo. I’m so scared.” He laughs.

          “You should be.” I joke, placing my face close to his.

          “Let’s go.” He says, leaning in.

          “Bring it!” I say, competitively.

          “You have a milk mustache.” He laughs.  He grabs a napkin off the table and dabs my lip.

          “Thanks.”

          “You’re welcome.” He laughs.

          Here we are, face to face, I’m leaning on the table in front of him, on my elbows, and we’re laughing. When I’m about to sit back down in my seat, Danny grabs my elbow and pulls me towards him. He pecks me on the cheek again, and as he pulls his face away, I shake my head.

          “What?” He asks. I’m still leaning on the table.

          I lean in closer, our lips inches apart. I’m about to make my move, when the timer goes off. Stupid oven. I let my head fall and get up out of my seat.

          I cut squares into the pan and scoop all of the brownies out onto a plate. I remove my apron and hang it up on the hook next to the fridge. I wash my hands again, and bring the plate over to the table. I sit across from Danny and slide the plate over to him.

          “Careful. They’re hot.” I say, watching him grab one off the top.

          I pull the plate back to me and select one for myself. It’s warm under my fingertips and moist in my mouth.

          “These are really good.” Danny says, taking another bite.

          “Thank you. You helped me, though.” I take a drink of milk, and another bite of my brownie.

          “Yep. I’m a good cook.” He jokes.

          “Oh. Yah. You totally did all of the work.” I laugh.

          We polish off the entire plate of brownies and I pick up the dish and take it to the sink. Danny downs his glass of milk while I rinse the plate. I sit back down and drink my own glass, as Danny walks his to the sink and washes it with water.

          “You didn’t have to do that. I would have done that for you.” I say.

          “I know. Just being nice.”

          “Thanks.” Danny sits back down next to me. Charlie waddles into the kitchen and lies down under the table, on top of my feet, so I’m unable to move. Danny wraps his left arm around my shoulders and drink the rest of my milk.

          “Thank you for the brownies.” He rubs my shoulder and twirls a piece of my hair with his other hand. It seems to distract him.

          “Your welcome.” I set my glass down and lean my head against him.

          “Your hair is soft. You know that?”

          “Yah.”

          I look up at him and he’s still distracted by my hair.

          “My mom will probably be home soon. I don’t think she would like it if she came home to find us sitting here.” I say.

          “Sitting here, doing what?” He smiles.

          I blush. He tilts his head down, very slowly, and kisses me.

          He pulls away and says, “Now we’re dating.”

          ‘Cool,’ is all I can manage to say before I pull his face back to mine. The night ends perfectly.

 

Author's Note

ignore mistakes

Reviews

[Encore]

It's really hard to read with the font that huge. The idea you have going is great, but it's kind of choppy. There's no depth, just a bunch of words, you know? But this has a lot of potential.
Have a nice day!