Glimpse - A Novel Part 2

It was a windy spring day and my hair was blowing all over the place, creating a whirlwind around my head. Annoyed, I grabbed my unruly ma.s.s of hair in both hands and slicked it back, rolling a ponytail holder from my wrist onto the loose, messy twist I'd made at the base of my skull.

"You missed a chunk." Avery reached over and tucked the hair behind my ear.

I froze, paralyzed. Avery had just touched me. I felt myself go tomato red and s.h.i.+ver at the same time. Was I awake? I traced the path of his fingers across my cheekbone, re-tucking the hair behind my ear, stalling. "Oh," I said brilliantly.

He stood next to me, straddling his bike; like it was something we did everyday. Like he had spoken to me once in the past five years. Like he acknowledged my presence. His beautiful long fingers had a firm grip on the handle bars.

"So that practice test in English totally sucked, don't you think?" he said.

A hundred images flashed through my mind. His full lips, his hair curling over his ears, the sliver of skin that had given me goose b.u.mps. I had to pull myself together! I had to speak. I had to not go catatonic. "Yeah," I managed to say. "It completely sucked. Way sucked. Can't imagine how much the real test is going to totally...suck." I completely, way, and totally needed to cease talking for the rest of my miserable existence.

"Totally," he agreed, giving me a crinkly-eyed smile.

We loitered in awkward silence for what seemed like forever. I finally turned towards him to espouse some more of my wisdom, when a strong gust of wind blew past us, unleas.h.i.+ng my crazy hair from my ponytail, and blowing it right into his face. I rushed to smooth it back again, but Avery grasped my wrist.

"It's cool. It's not bothering me." He rubbed his thumb up along the inside my palm. "Your hair is really soft. It's nice."

"Oh!" I said brilliantly again. "Uh, thanks. Yours is too." Shut up. Shut up now. Pray like you've never prayed before that an angel seamstress will come down from heaven and sew your mouth shut!

He let go of my wrist, but the warmth from his hand lingered. I resisted putting my arm to my nose, curious if I could smell him on my skin.

He ran his hands through his hair. "So, your party is next week. That's cool."

"Yeah," I said, attempting to be nonchalant. As if. "Claire and I are going to Bend with my dad to get decorations and stuff tomorrow."

"Sweet, Bend's cool."

"Yeah!" I. Am. So. Super. Excited! Holy Christ on a cracker why couldn't I say one intelligent thing?

"Well, uh, all righty." He looked at the watch he had hooked to his backpack. "Um, I gotta get over to my dad's office. Have fun in Bend. I'll see you in church...and then y'know in school on Monday."

"Yeah! I'll see you on Sunday and Monday!" The embarra.s.sment was becoming debilitating.

I watched as he rode away, not sure of what just happened or of anything that I had said. Was I already at the dentist, because I sure as h.e.l.l felt like I was on laughing gas? This would've been another opportune moment to have a cell phone. I had to call Claire as soon as I got home. There was so much to a.n.a.lyze. There was something something to a.n.a.lyze! to a.n.a.lyze!

Avery rode his bike down Cascade Ave. How many times had he just said "cool?" Ugh. Too many. Well, at least she'd talked to him. Sort of. He was having a hard time actually remembering what they'd talked about in between all the times he'd said cool. I am such a ma.s.sive dork. I am such a ma.s.sive dork.

This was all Jason's fault. Avery had been perfectly fine admiring Zellie from afar, checking her out on the sly during youth group. Every day he looked forward to 6th period Humanities, the one cla.s.s where they had a reverse alphabetical seating chart and he sat behind her, allowing him to fantasize about gently sweeping her hair to the side and kissing her neck.

Staring and wanting and longing were things he was comfortable with, but Jason said he was acting like a little girl. When he had threatened to tell Zellie that Avery was in love with her if he didn't at least say hi to her before her birthday party, Avery could've killed him. But, he had to admit, it had gone better than he thought it would.

Oh G.o.d, he couldn't believe he'd touched her. Twice. Where did that impulse come from? Fear of exposure had made him brave. He wished he could have held onto to her wrist forever. She hadn't pulled away from him either, so that was saying something. Ugh. What was that saying? That she was being polite? That she'd wanted him to touch her? He hadn't really given her a choice. It seemed like it was okay with her. It was okay. Everything was cool. Ugh!

Skidding to a stop on the sidewalk in front of his dad's insurance office, he hopped off his bike and propped it up against the building. Every day after school when he didn't have practice or a game he had to help his dad at work. He did the c.r.a.ppy jobs, like emptying the trash and cleaning out the coffee pot, while his friends got to hang out at each other's houses and play video games.

The cow bell clanked as Avery walked through the gla.s.s door that read "Adams Insurance" in curly old fas.h.i.+oned script.

His dad looked up from his desk, near the back wall of the small storefront. "Did you lock up your bike or leave it out there so that anyone walking by could take it for a spin?"

Avery flung his backpack down on the floor next to the old black leather sofa that used to be in their living room at home. It now occupied the "waiting area" in his dad's office, even though it was only about five feet from his desk. "No one's gonna take it, Dad." Avery flopped onto the sofa, slouching down low so that his dad had to look over the stack of files on his desk to see him.

"This may be a small town, but that doesn't mean that bad things don't happen. If that were the case, I'd be out of a job. Go lock it up." He finished filling out a stack of forms he had been working on and tossed them into his "out" box.

Avery rose from the couch with incredible slowness, as if moving at a more reasonable pace would kill him.

"All right Mr. Wisea.s.s, instead of locking up your bike why don't you go pick up our suits from the dry cleaners." His dad s.h.i.+fted forward in his chair and pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his khakis.

Avery froze in mid-sloth. "Why are our suits at the dry cleaners? Did someone die?"

"No, someone did not die. I thought we should look nice for Zellie Wells' birthday party next weekend. Plus, it's been awhile since we've had our suits cleaned." He flipped a twenty toward his son. It floated in the s.p.a.ce between them for a split second and then fell at Avery's feet.

He bent down and picked it up, cramming it into his jeans pocket. "Why do I have to wear a suit, anyways? I'm going to look like a total dork. Jason's dad isn't going to make him-"

"Jason's dad doesn't make him do anything and that's why Jason is a spoiled brat. You are wearing a suit because you're going to be in church and because I'm wearing a suit. End of discussion. You better get over there. They close early on Fridays."

Avery grabbed his backpack and slung it over his left shoulder. "How am I supposed to carry two suits on my bike?"

"You'll think of something." He pulled a stack of papers from his "in" box and began filling them out.

Avery made it to the dry cleaners just before closing and was now trying for the third time to ride his bike home without destroying the suits or himself. Steadying the bike with one hand and holding the suits up as high as he could with the other he attempted to pedal. The stupid plastic dry cleaning bags kept getting wrapped up in the spokes of his back wheel, throwing him off balance and shredding the bottoms of the bags.

"d.a.m.n it!" He threw the suits to the ground, sprang from his bike and walked away from the whole mess, leaving his bike and the suits lying in the middle of the empty residential street.

He sat down on the curb. He could not wait until he turned sixteen in July, no more running errands on his lousy bike!

"I couldn't help but notice what a total jacka.s.s you were making of yourself. Wanna use my phone to call your mom?"

Claire was standing above him holding out her red glittery cell phone.

"Thanks. That would be really cool." Avery cringed at his words. He took the phone from Claire and dialed the number to Clear Cuts, the hair salon where his mom worked. "Yeah, hi, Juanita, it's Avery, can I talk to my mom please."

"Oh, hi, sweetie!" Juanita said, her high pitched fake southern accent dripping with honey. "Let me get her...Becky, that adorable little son of yours is on the phone. Here she comes, sugar."

"Thanks." Avery listened as Juanita laid the phone down. It slid off the reception desk and bounced on the floor. He heard his mom say "Oh s.h.i.+t!" and then "Sorry! Pardon my French."

His mom giggled into the phone. "Hi, honey, is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah, Dad sent me to pick up our suits from the dry cleaners and I'm having a really hard time getting them home on my bike. Could you come pick me up? I'm sitting on the curb in front of Claire Vargas' house."

Avery turned and looked up. Claire was hovering over him reciting her address. Avery put his hand over the phone. "Everyone knows where you live Claire. Shhhh!"

She stopped talking and sat down next to him on the curb.

"Why the h.e.l.l would your father have you pick up those suits on your bike? I swear sometimes I don't know what goes through that man's head. Of course I'll come get you. It's only fair, right?" His mom giggled again, more embarra.s.sed this time. "I'm just finis.h.i.+ng up with Mrs. Tucker. I'll be over in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay, Mom. Thanks. See you in a few minutes." Avery handed the phone back to Claire. "She'll be here in a few minutes."

"So I hear." Claire stood up from the curb, tugging her bright blue mini skirt down in an attempt to cover the stippled impression on the backs of her legs. "Do you want to come inside and have a pop or something?"

Avery stood up. "Yeah, okay, let me just get all my c.r.a.p out of the street." He walked over to the bike and dragged it and the tangled up suits into the Vargas' impeccably landscaped yard. He followed her into her house, a huge remodeled Victorian, probably one of the first houses built in Rosedell.

Avery liked Claire. Not that they had ever really been close friends or anything, but they had known each other for awhile and she was pretty funny for a girl.

Jason always said that Claire liked him and wanted to get in his pants, but Avery didn't see her that way. Besides, she was Zellie's best friend and he couldn't risk messing up his chances with Zellie. That is, if he had a chance with her.

He did want to know if Zellie liked him, but it wasn't like he could come right out and ask Claire if she did. He knew Claire would just tell her. Then what if she didn't like him? He didn't know if he could stand it. He had spent so long liking Zellie and not doing anything about it, playing it safe, that he was used to not knowing. He hung out in the front hall while Claire went into the kitchen and got them each a pop.

She opened the cans and set them on the granite countertop of the island. "You can come in here, y'know. My parents aren't home."

Avery sat down at the island.

"So," Claire began, "you excited about Zellie's party next weekend?"

He s.h.i.+fted on the bar stool. "Um, yeah, it should be fun. Zellie's cool."

Claire leaned further toward him, "Oh you think so, do you?"

"Sure, yeah, I guess." He took a long drink of his pop.

She walked around the island and hoisted herself up onto the barstool next to him. "Interesting."

He tried his hardest to be nonchalant. "Whatever."

"Nice try, dude, but I can see right through you." She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "You better ask her to dance at her party. If you wait too long someone else is going to come along and snap her up. She's not going to wait forever, you know."

Avery looked down at the countertop, too shocked to make eye contact with Claire. How clueless was he? "Does everyone know I like her?"

She chugged her pop, taking a long time to answer, and then let out an enormous belch. "Everyone but her, dude."

"Can we keep it that way until next weekend? I promise I will make a move," he pleaded. "Awesome belch by the way."

Claire smiled. "Thank you. I aim to please." She poked him in the chest, warning. "I'll keep your secret, but if you don't tell her soon, I'm going to. Watching the two of you pine after each other is getting ridiculous."

Avery suddenly felt very hot. "So, she likes me too?"

Claire hopped down off the barstool, "Your mom's here."

He looked toward the front door. "How did you know that?"

"Uh, the doorbell rang. Wow. You really are a lost cause." Claire pulled Avery from his barstool and pushed him toward the front door, "See ya at youth group, lover boy."

"See you. Thanks for letting me use your phone."

The phone rang in my hand just as I was about to call Claire. "h.e.l.lo?" I answered.

"You will not believe who was just at my house!" Claire squealed.

I heard her fling herself onto the leather sectional in her family room. Uh, oh, this was sure to be a long conversation. "Hey! I was just about to call you. Um, let me go into my room. Hold on."

I walked down the hall, shut my bedroom door, and plopped on my twin bed. "So, you you will not believe what happened to me after school!" will not believe what happened to me after school!"

"It cannot be as good as what just happened here-"

"Avery!" was the first word we both said. After that we talked over each other for a good three seconds.

"Wait. What?" Claire said. "He talked to you! What did he say? Tell me everything!"

"He was in your house! You You tell me everything!" I got up from my bed and started to pace around the room. These developments were too exciting to be lying down. tell me everything!" I got up from my bed and started to pace around the room. These developments were too exciting to be lying down.

"Okay, so he was trying to ride his bike and carry dry cleaning at the same time."

"Why did he have dry cleaning? What was it?" I needed absolutely every detail.

"Well, from what I gather, it was the suit that he is going to wear to your birthday party. So, anyways, the bag kept getting caught in his wheels and he got all mad and threw a fit. I went outside to do some recon. I pretended to get the mail and there he was sitting on the curb in front of my house, so I asked him if he needed to borrow my phone."

"Oh, my G.o.d." Claire was so brave, she could talk to hot boys like they were normal people.

"Yeah, so he calls his mom and she couldn't come pick him up for a few minutes, so I invited him inside for a pop."

"Oh, my G.o.d. What kind?"

"Of pop? c.o.ke. So then I ask him about your party and if he's looking forward to it and he said that he was and that you're cool!"

"He thinks I'm cool? No freaking way!" I felt like I was going to pa.s.s out. "What else did he say?"

"Zellie, I think there's a very good chance that Avery is going to ask you to dance at your party." Claire giggled.

"I will totally die!" I would, I totally would. "Do you think he really will?"

"Yes, for sure, I could almost guarantee it. So what happened after school? What's up with all of this Avery interaction?"

"Well," I took in a deep breath, "I was standing over by the bike racks waiting for my mom to pick me up and he just like, appeared next to me! It was super windy and my hair was blowing everywhere and I pulled it back, but missed a little and he-"

Mom peeked her head in the door. "I need your help with dinner."

I nodded and then pointed to the phone. She nodded back and closed the door. "c.r.a.p. My mom needs help with dinner. I'll have to tell you the rest tomorrow."