The Lonely

He grins, "What? I have the cleanest date in town now. I've never felt so safe in all my life." He points with his free hand and I notice we are still holding hands, "I know a quiet place down the road. Very clean. Owner has OCD, so the service is slow but the place is immaculate."

"Okay." The warmth of his hand is nice. It makes the lonely go away. He's the cure. I sigh. Quietly.

He pulls me into pace with him. "So is it as bad as Howie Mandel's?"

I snort, "It's not what you think. I'm not a germaphobe."

He looks confused, "You are so."

I shake my head, "I don’t do it because I care about the germs. I was raised to be clean." I don’t tell him that I've spent my lifetime trying to clean something up.

He makes a face, "Oh, those scary cult families where you get scrubbed with boiling water like Mommy Dearest?"

I laugh, "Something like that." The similarities are disturbing.

He shrugs, "My uncle Frank is a surgeon. I get it. He went through a vodka phase once. He had bottles of it in every bathroom and we had to wash our hands with it." He steals a glance down at me, "The crowds are hard too. New Mexico is probably pretty quiet. Boston's not exactly quiet."

"What kind of surgeon." We need to talk about him.

"Orthopedic."

"Wow."

He doesn’t sound interested, "Yeah."

"You taking medicine then? Keeping it in the family?"

He looks down at me laughing like I'm missing something, "No." His eyes are filled with a touch of something intense, but it's too far beneath the surface for me to see it. "I'm in business. What about you?"

"Journalism is what I want to do. I ran the paper at my high school. We did a lot of earth sciences pieces. Trying to be proactive about the environment. But I'm a freshman, so we'll see."

The Town Car pulls up as we round a corner. Stuart climbs out of the car he parks illegally, "You said you were going to Chicken Lou's." He looks pissed. His dark eyes are stormy. Shell is right, he's hot. Especially angry. Yowza.

I don’t want to explain the car or the driver to Sebastian. I scowl and shout across the street like a psycho, "Go home! I thought you were on a date!"

"Had to end it early." He's speaking through his teeth.

I roll my eyes, "The chicken place was too busy. Huge crowd." I pray he gets it without me having to explain.

Sebastian looks down at me, "Is that your driver?"

I laugh. It's nervous and I shake my head, "No. God no. Stuart, this is Sebastian. Stuart is a friend of my…uhm…family's. He's like a big…older…annoying brother."

Stuart looks less than impressed.

Sebastian smiles uncomfortably, "Hey man. We're gonna eat here. You wanna come?"

Stuart ignores him, "This is a bad idea."

"I'll call him. Now go away." I turn and pull Sebastian to the door. I almost grab the handle but my hand freezes looking at it. Thankfully, Sebastian grabs it quickly, "Let me. Is everything okay?"

I look back at Stuart and nod. "He's really over protective."

"Who are you going to call?"

"My…uhm…family." I laugh inside my mind. I've never said the word uhm so many times in my life.

Stuart doesn't get in the car. He watches. He always watches. It's creepy.

He isn’t creepy, but his job is.

My phone vibrates the minute we get inside. I ignore it.

The restaurant smells great and I can see the sparkle and shine in every corner. The servers are clean, with their hair pulled back and greased to their heads. Everything is white linen and immaculate. I almost sigh relief, but then I notice how everyone else is dressed. We look like slobs. I look down at my chipped toenail polish and ugly blue sandals and grimace.

He must have seen the look in my eyes because he leans in and whispers, "Yeah, I forgot how fancy this place was. You okay here?"

I nod, "I'm starving. I don’t care. I feel like an idiot but whatever."

"Me too." We are still holding hands. It's weird for me to hold hands with anyone. After my panic attack it's nice. More than nice. He's like a hero. I feel rescued. The right way. Like he is a prince and not a dictator. My knight in shining armor. He cured the lonely.

Chapter Three

"We ate and talked and ate some more. He eats a ton like me, so that’s good. I didn’t look like a pig." I'm nattering. It’s a first.

Shell rolls her eyes, as she applies my toenail polish, "I don’t know how you eat that much and don't get fat."

"Sprints. But yeah, we ate and talked. He is so sweet. He never tried to kiss me or tried to touch me, except the hand and that was after he did the sani. I super liked him." I'm gushing.

She scowls up at me, "One date and you're in love? I told you to have dinner. You girls are all the same. You hold out and the first boy you let in you love him. You need to test drive this shit and date a few others. This is too fast." Her tone is edgy. It hurts a little.

"It was just dinner." I'm getting angry.

"Are you going out with him again?"

I feel my face tightening, "No. I don’t know. He doesn’t have my number. You're the one who made me go. Why are you being a whore about me liking him? You know how big of a deal this is to me? He saw the lonely and he stayed."

Seeing the look on my face, she lightens hers. "Sorry. Oh my god, I am being a bitch. Sorry dude. I'm so happy for you. This is a huge step. I'm just so annoyed with your Uncle Daddy Dude. He called like a hundred times when we were out. He was pissed Stuart was on his own time. It was like eight at night. Like come on. You know?"

I nod, "Sorry." I'm still mad.

She laughs and blows her dark hair out of her tanned face, "No. It's not your fault. I should have known better than to fall for your Uncle Daddy's driver."

I laugh too. "He isn’t my Uncle Daddy."

She makes air quotation marks, "Your benefactor."

It makes me feel weird when we talk about him. I don’t like it either. I wish I had a mom and a dad and a normal life. I wish my clothes and hair smelled like food and not bleach and anxiety. She hurts me and she doesn’t know it. It's not her hurting me though. It's me reacting. So I keep my face pleasant. Until I feel it start. The room wobbles a bit and the polish bottles almost duplicate in numbers. They surround me. Each one has been touched. I swallow, looking at them all.

"I see you." She says, but doesn’t look at me.

"No, you don’t." I whisper.

"Just do it." She says it like it's nothing.

I reach over and grab the wipes and the polish remover and all the little polish bottles she's touched. I feel sick wiping her off of everything that’s hers. I feel sicker that she's okay with it.

She changes the subject back to my dinner, "So, he saved you and then bought you a dinner at an OCD restaurant. This guy is the real deal of sweet and romantic. He never even tried anything?"

I'm almost disappointed when I say it, "No."

"Wish he had?" Her glossy lips turn up into a grin.

I grin, "No." I don’t sound convincing.

She laughs, "Stuart tried. Oh my god that man is hot. No shirt and it's like wow. Wow. So beautiful."

"He's a ninja."

She arches an eyebrow and then looks back down at her work, "For real?"

I look at my toes and beam, "Thanks. Yeah, for real. He's like a badass ninja. He told me he was anyway. I mean he could be lying. But I think he kinda looks like a ninja, ya know?" I flick her, "And not because he's from Wichita, crazy-ass, racist woman."

She sticks her tongue out, "Are Japanese people even ninjas?"

I furrow my brow, "He told you, he's not Japanese. He's from Kansas."

She wrinkles her nose in a cute sort of way, "I know. Have you heard him talk all twangy? It's so hot. I love him."

I shake my head and lie back on my bed, waiting for my toes to dry. "You're a dork."

"I'm a horny dork, Em. I needs me some ninja loving. You mind if I go get it on? You promise you'll be okay?"

I look at the ceiling and laugh, "Yeah. I got Netflix today for the Xbox that you called a need and not a want. I'll watch that." My stomach hurts as soon as she says it, but I can't expect her to spend her entire year locked in here with me.

She jumps up and runs out the door, "Love you smoochie."

My phone vibrates. I sigh, and pick it up.

"Hi." I answer.

"You don’t go to restaurants with boys you don’t clear with me first." His tone is harsher than normal. Not so quiet.

"I didn’t. You knew what I was doing."

His voice echoes a bit, "Don't play games with me. You won't win. You specifically told me you were going to a chicken place and never went there."

I swallow, "I'm sorry. I should have called and told you we were changing places. I just…well…I had an attack and had to leave the first place."

His voice softens, "Are you okay?"

I don’t know why I feel so able to talk to him. Maybe because I never see him. "No. I had it right in front of him. It was humiliating."

"I'll call the doc. She'll want to see you."

I hate that. I hate that he goes for the doc. He never wants to talk to me. Even when I let him in and give him something, he shuts me down. He pushes me away.

"Whatever." I say.

"Don't say that. It's rude."

I don’t say anything.

He clears his throat, "If you're going to date and Stuart is dating the ever lovely Miss Monkton, then the rules are changing. You will not date on the same evening." ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">