Left Behind
Page 34“I don’t know.” I shrug. “We haven’t really talked about it. Get something to eat, I guess. Maybe go down to the beach.”
Aunt Claire’s mouth opens, then closes. Then opens. “Oh,” is all she says. Although I’m certain there is more she wants to add.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
She forces a smile. “I’m just nervous about you going on a date.”
“I’m almost eighteen.”
“I know, I know. It’s not that I don’t think you’re old enough. It’s just…” Her voice trails off and she pauses for a moment. “I’m not sure what advice to give you.”
“Don’t worry, Ash already gave me advice,” I tease, trying to make her feel better.
“Do I even want to know what advice she gave you?” Aunt Claire has met Ashley and knows she’s a bit on the crazy side.
“She told me not to get in a car with anyone drinking, and to order the most expensive thing on the menu.” And to always use a condom, but I leave that part off.
She smiles, and this time it’s genuine. “That’s actually good advice.”
“I’m working a double at the hospital, so I’m not home till tomorrow morning. But that doesn’t change curfew.”
“I know.”
“Okay.” She stands. “Have fun.” She walks toward the door and looks back before stepping through. “But not too much fun.”
***
I realize I may have gotten ready a tad bit too early. Almost a full hour is left before Zack is supposed to pick me up and my nerves are already getting the best of me. The ice maker in the freezer makes a loud clank as it drops freshly made ice into the holding bin, and it scares the heck out of me. I actually jump at the sound, even though I’ve heard it dozens of times since I’ve been here.
With too much time on my hands, I rethink my outfit. I blow through a dozen outfits, everything from shorts and a tank top to a pretty, although a bit too fancy, sundress. Finally I settle on a simple black skirt that’s short, but not too short, and has a flirty, fun bounce to it. I pair it with a plain pale pink t-shirt with girly capped sleeves, and sandals…part of the American Apparel shopping spree that Aunt Claire and I went on when I first moved in. Checking out my reflection in the mirror, I find a California girl staring back at me, rather than a Texan.
Even though I had time to waste, I’m barely finished brushing my teeth when Zack’s car pulls up outside. The rumble of his classic Charger immediately sets fluttering whatever butterflies had settled over the last hour. My heart stammers a million miles a minute as I reach for the doorknob, so much so that I have to force a deep breath in and out to stop myself from passing out. Remembering how Mom always calmed herself when she was nervous or panicky, I close my eyes and count silently. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…on one, I finally open the door.
The minute my eyes land on him, the gentle butterflies in my stomach turn into a violent swarm of bees. For a second, I really think I might vomit. Zack squints. “Hey. You okay?” He steps toward me, his face full of concern. The close proximity only makes my momentary panic worse. I nod.
“You sure? You look kind of pale.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Even for you.”
Zack smiles, a cocky, confident smile. “I get that a lot. The room gets warmer when I walk in.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re full of yourself today.”
He hands me a folded up piece of paper and walks past me, heading straight to the kitchen. Making himself at home, he opens a few cabinet doors until he finds a glass. I unfold the note and smile as I read it. You look beautiful. Zack glances over at me, arches an eyebrow and smiles.
“Drink.” He orders, handing me a full glass of cold water. My brows furrow together, I’ve forgotten my own lie. “You said the heat was getting to you,” he reminds me. “Drink.”
I sip the water, but I’m really not thirsty. “Where are we going?”
“Not to the dance.”
“I got that much the other night.”
“Finish your water and I’ll show you.”
***
“Would you mind if we rolled down the windows instead?” I ask. It’s beautiful out. Eighty in southern California, without the humidity, is very different than eighty in Texas.
“Really?” He cuts his eyes to me, checking to see if I’m serious, then quickly returns them to the road.
I nod.
Grinning, he pushes the button on his window and I do the same. “Figured you’d be all worried about your hair.”
I shrug. “You’re the one who has to look at me.”
He doesn’t respond, but his smile says it all. We kid around about our lack of talking, but I really am able to tell a lot about him without any words. I know he has three different smiles. One that’s a polite gesture, but really doesn’t mean he’s happy. One that he forces when he’s trying to cover up for how he really feels. And then there’s my favorite. The one that makes it all the way up to his eyes. Dimples dip deep, his blue eyes sparkle and it’s absolutely contagious. I can’t help but smile back when I see that one.