by Kelly Oram
Seth glared at me, but calmed down despite himself the instant I touched him. I could feel the way his muscles relaxed beneath my fingers. When he looked down at my hand I let go of him, but I attempted a sincere smile. It probably looked more like a grimace.
Seth watched me for a moment as if he were in pain and then lost whatever internal debate he’d been having. “Here,” he said sullenly. He pulled a tiny, messily wrapped gift from his pocket. “Happy Birthday.”
“A present?” He’d gotten me a gift. I was shocked, and surprisingly flattered. “Seth, you shouldn’t have got—”
“Just take it,” he said, his anger returning so quickly it made my head spin. “I don’t think I can handle any more blows to my ego from you.”
I gasped. I was surprised he’d misunderstood me. Usually he reads me like an open book. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just surprised. You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Surprised? You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met!” His face was starting to turn red, he was so frustrated. “Ellie, it shouldn’t be a surprise that I’d want to do something nice for you on your birthday. I don’t understand why you hate me so much.”
For someone so mysterious Seth sure couldn’t hide his emotions. That vulnerable, self-conscious kid I met in his bedroom was back, and he was clearly struggling with my constant rejections. Psycho or not, there was something about that face—and not just that it was beautiful—that made me want to make him feel better.
“Cut me some slack,” I said in the softest voice I had. “I’m trying here.” I held out my hand and Seth hesitantly dropped the package into it. As I tore off the paper I forced myself to be extra polite. Not exactly my strong suit—as my mother is always pointing out. “This was very nice of you Seth. Thank you.”
I was surprised by what I found in my hand. Seth had given me a tiny pink Swiss Army knife on a keychain. “It won’t fend off any serial killers,” he said. “But they can come in quite handy, and everyone needs a good keychain for their first set of car keys.”
I couldn’t help the smile that crept across my face. The pink was the perfect contrast for my shiny black jeep, and, actually, the gift was surprisingly thoughtful.
“I saw the jeep parked out front of your house tonight. It’s yours, right?”
My smile got even bigger.
“It’s a beauty,” Seth said. “But I don’t think your friends are going to be very happy when they see the legroom in the back seat.”
My eyes flashed up at Seth and after a moment I smirked. “Then they can walk.”
Seth and I laughed, but the minute I realized we were acting like normal people together, I clammed up again. I couldn’t help it. When I could no longer look at Seth, I turned my attention to the knife in my hand. I started pulling out all its gadgets—tweezers, a toothpick, scissors, nail file, and finally a tiny blade. I thought of all the different knives in Seth’s garage. This one didn’t look dangerous like those had. This one was cute.
“I know it’s not an autographed jersey or anything,” Seth said, sounding surprisingly self-conscious. “I was going to get you season tickets for the Red Wings, but my aunt suggested I start smaller.”
I smiled, figuring Seth was kidding about the season tickets, but when I glanced up I couldn’t really tell. I started to say “It’s perfect,” but then it dawned on me what he’d said. “How did you know about the jersey?”
Seth shrugged. “I was watching you from my room yesterday. I figured the jersey was autographed or something when you almost passed out.”
“You were spying on me?” I asked, forgetting that Seth is surprisingly sensitive. Also ignoring the fact that I spy on him on practically a daily basis. In an attempt to soften the blow I said, “I’m surprised you didn’t come say hi.”
Seth kicked the carpet under his shoe. “I wanted to, but you made it pretty clear the last time we talked that you don’t enjoy my company.” His voice was suddenly bitter again.
“That’s not fair, Seth. You kidnapped me. You dragged me by force into your house and locked me in your room. I was terrified! It was like you said—you could have done anything you wanted to me. Obviously I couldn’t have stopped you.”
Seth’s face paled. “You don’t think!” he gasped. I couldn’t understand his reaction. It’s like he’d never even considered the possibility that I’d been scared of him. “I wouldn’t have hurt you, Ellie.”
He looked so utterly horrified by that thought that I was shy to admit the truth. “It didn’t feel that way.”
Seth was starting to turn green, and the only thing he could manage to say was, “I’m sorry.”
He meant it. He was definitely sorry. I didn’t understand it, but it made me feel better. Less scared of him somehow. Perhaps I’d been a little harsh with that whole Saturday Night Slasher accusation. Nobody as upset as Seth was by the thought of scaring me could be a killer.
Well, I couldn’t just leave him looking and feeling the way he did, so I walked away from the crowd and took a seat on the steps that led upstairs. I motioned for Seth to join me. He was reluctant to do so, but when he did finally sit down he still couldn’t manage to leave any space between us. I let it slide this time. “Seth,” I said with a long sigh. “It’s not that I hate you, because I don’t—that’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“You don’t just make me nervous, you scare the crap out of me. I wasn’t kidding when I said there’s something wrong with you. You’re way too forward, you don’t seem to have any concept of personal space, and you do things like break into my room and kidnap me. People—normal people—just don’t do things like that.”
Seth frowned so I quickly said, “But I don’t hate you. I mean that. If you could just tone it down, we could probably be friends. Like right now? This isn’t so bad.”
Seth perked up at the tiny glimmer of hope I’d just given him. “I can do that,” he promised me.
There was a determination in his voice that caught me off guard. When we made eye contact something happened. I don’t think either of us realized just how close we were to one another but suddenly he was caught in a moment he couldn’t resist, and I was caught in one I couldn’t escape.
This is it, I thought as Seth’s breath started to come faster. My first kiss.
There was no stopping it. I think he tried because he whispered my name rather helplessly as he started to lean in, almost like he was pleading with me to break the connection for him. But I couldn’t.
In the end, it was Angela that snapped us out of it. “Ellie!” she yelled from across the room. Her voice shattered the moment between us. “Ellie, where are you? Your stupid fight is on. Has anyone seen the birthday girl?”
I just about jumped out of my skin and it took Seth a second to shake himself from his daze. I wasn’t sure if I was more disappointed or relieved that Seth wasn’t going to kiss me. I mean, did I really want my first kiss to be with someone who scared me? Someone who might very well be killing innocent girls in his spare time?
Someone who really liked me, and tried over and over again to prove it no matter how rude I was to him?
I had no idea.
“Did she say fight?” Seth asked, breaking me from my thoughts.
I was glad for the safe subject and nodded. “Yeah.”
“The UFC Prelims?” Seth asked excitedly in this really adorable way. “You like the fights?”
“I should have known you were a UFC fan,” I said. “What with the way you go at that punching bag in your garage.”
“I had the chance to train with Georges St. Pierre for a while last year. He got me pretty in to it.”
Seth shrugged as if it were no big deal, but let me tell you, training with Georges St. Pierre is not no big deal. “No freaking way! That’s awesome!” I jumped up and began dragging Seth across the house in search of the fight. No wonder I love watching you work out so much.
Seth came to an abrupt stop and r
aised an eyebrow my direction. It took me a second to figure out what his problem was but then my jaw dropped. “I didn’t!” I did not just say that out loud!
“You know, Ellie,” Seth said, not bothering to hide how much he was enjoying this moment. “You don’t have to watch from your bedroom. You’re welcome to join me anytime. I’d be happy to show you a few things.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just stood there fighting the urge to be sick until Seth could no longer hold back his laughter. “Come on,” he said, tugging my hand. “I’ll give you the behind-the-scenes scoop.”
When we reached the rec room where Dave was already settled on the couch watching the fight, I was still feeling beyond mortified. Then to make matters worse both Angela and Dave immediately zeroed in on my hand. Or, more accurately, how it was still clinging to Seth’s.
“I found another UFC fan,” I explained, dropping Seth’s hand like a hot potato.
I couldn’t read Dave’s expression, but the look on Angela’s face was one of surprise and annoyance. After a quick glare at me she put on a big friendly smile. “Seth! I’m so glad you made it!”
Angela greeted him with a hug and somehow managed to place herself between the two of us when she let go. “So, you know about all this fight stuff?” she asked Seth. When he shrugged she weaved her arm through his. “Good! Because I am so lost. I need someone to explain it to me.”
Seth shot me a questioning look, but I just rolled my eyes sympathetically. I knew why Angela was acting all flirty with him, but I wasn’t about to explain her matchmaking plan to him. Especially not with Dave sitting right there.
Of course, it turned out that I didn’t have to explain anything to Seth, because when Angela pulled him down to the couch with her, she “accidentally” bumped me, knocking me straight into Dave. I would have killed her if I weren’t completely preoccupied with the fact that I was now in Dave’s lap. Um yeah, that wasn’t a little awkward or anything.
“Did someone tap a keg I didn’t know about?” Dave laughed as he scooted me off his lap to the empty spot on the couch next to him. “Because I’m pretty sure you usually have more coordination than that, Westley.”
“I didn’t fall, you dillweed!” I leaned around Dave to glare at Angela. “I was pushed.”
“Geez, Ellie. It was an accident. Sorry. Freak out much?”
Okay, so not an accident. Angela’s not exactly the queen of subtle and it was plenty obvious to Seth what she’d just done. I know, because he was glaring harder at the back of her head than he’d ever glared at me. And that’s saying something, considering all the times I’ve called him a psycho to his face.
But at least Dave seemed completely oblivious. “Yeah, what’s with you tonight, Westley? You’re so grouchy. Sit back and relax already.”
Feeling somewhat defeated—just not quite sure why—I sank back into the couch with a long sigh. The problem with that was that Dave’s arm had been resting on the back of the couch and when I leaned back my head came to rest on it. Now, for someone who didn’t know any better it could have looked like I’d just cuddled up with him, but freaking out and moving would have made me look like an idiot, so I stayed put and left it up to Dave to move his arm. Oddly enough, he didn’t.
It didn’t take long before the rec room filled up with enthusiastic fight watchers. Even Angela would squeal in either fear or disgust whenever there was an awesome hit. The only person unable to get absorbed in the fight was yours truly. That’s right, me. The person who asked to turn it on in the first place.
And you know why I couldn’t relax and enjoy myself? Dave, that’s why. Dave and his stupid arm that he still hadn’t bothered to move. I mean, leaving it there was basically like putting it around me. You know, sort of. Yeah, it was there first, but…
The stupid thing had to be asleep by now, so why hadn’t he moved it? Did that mean Dave wanted his arm around me? Did I want Dave’s arm around me? What did Seth think about it? And why on Earth did I care what Seth thought about it?
If Angela was right and Dave did like me, then I should be happy about that. Shouldn’t I? I mean, he’s the better—safer—option. Except that Seth isn’t an option, he’s a psycho. Isn’t he?
And, again, how in the world did Seth even get into this debate? This was supposed to be about Dave and his stupid arm. Except that Seth and I had talked and it was almost normal, so now I was completely curious to talk to him again. You know, just to see if he could be semi-normal two times in a row. Not because I liked him or anything.
Okay, I’ll admit I was obsessing about this, but at least it didn’t go on for long. We’d only had the fight on for maybe ten minutes when Rachel wandered into the rec room and turned off the TV, claiming the fight was ruining the party. She ignored all the angry protests and turned on some lame dance remix of some even lamer pop song. Then she grabbed the nearest acceptable guy and began to dance with him. Several other girls followed suit and soon what used to resemble a fight night now looked more like a dance party. Seriously, all it needed was a smoke machine and a strobe light.
Angela got up to join the party and Seth rose with her. I think he was going to ask me to dance because he was looking right at me when he started to hold out his hand, but before he could say anything Angela slipped her arm through his and said, “Come on, Seth. Why don’t you show me how they dance in California?”
That familiar flash of anger swept across Seth’s face so fast that Angela missed it. I didn’t, though, so I nodded my head (encouragingly, I hoped) and mouthed, “just go with it.”
Seth didn’t look happy, but he let Angela drag him away.
“What was that all about?” Dave asked when they were gone.
“Nothing,” I said. “Angela’s just sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong and this time it’s going to blow up in her face if she’s not careful.”
“Angela’s meddling?” Dave laughed. “In whose affairs, exactly?”
“Mine, of course, same as always. And Seth’s. And now yours too.”
“Mine?” Dave asked. “How is Angela meddling in my…”
Dave’s voice trailed off as he realized that we were the only two people still sitting on the couch and that we weren’t exactly sitting on opposite ends. I laughed when he looked back at me, slightly pale.
“You all caught up now, Einstein?” I teased. “I’m pretty sure she’s told everyone her plan too. Notice how they’re all conveniently ignoring us?”
Dave looked up, startled. We were sitting alone on the only sofa in a crowded room and amazingly no one was bothering us. Too amazingly. Some of them were watching us while trying to pretend not to. And then there was Sanchez, who wasn’t pretending not to. He made suggestive gestures when he happened to catch our eye.
“See?” I told Dave, giving Sanchez a suggestion with a gesture of my own. “Everyone’s trying to figure out what’s up with us and, I’m sorry to say, you’re even starting to make me wonder with all the flirting and the cuddling. Seriously, are you in to me or something?”
Dave’s jaw fell slack about the same time as he realized his arm was still draped over the back of the couch behind me. When his eyes got huge and he slowly pulled his arm back to safety I burst out laughing. “Chill Holcomb, I’m just messing with you.” I was laughing so hard tears were beginning to form in my eyes. “I mean, not the part about Angela trying to hook us up—she’s totally doing that. But I’m not afraid you’re trying to put the moves on me. Oh, man, you should see your face right now!”
I gave Dave’s leg a pat as I jumped up and then laughed myself all the way into Rachel’s back yard where I could get some air.
I was hoping for a little peace and quiet, but there were as many people outside as there were inside. Unlike at the lake last week, where there was all that wind coming off the water, it was still really hot outside tonight, so the pool appeared to be a pretty popular hangout. At least most of the kids swimming belonged to Angela’s crowd—my friends we
re more the foosball and cheespuffs types—so aside from the occasional birthday wishes, they left me alone.
I took a seat on a patio swing and watched a bunch of jock straps try to impress bikini-clad girls by doing back flips off the diving board.
“There you are!”
I’d had maybe two minutes of freedom. “This is why I don’t do parties.” I groaned as Travis sat down on the swing next to me and handed me a red plastic cup. Diet Coke. Gross. “Didn’t I ditch you once already?”
Travis laughed like I was joking—except, yeah, I wasn’t—and then he began droning on about pointless crap. So it was a small miracle when my sister’s cell phone went off.
“You didn’t call me when you got there,” my dad greeted me when I answered the phone.
“Sorry, Dad. I was a little distracted. You do know what Angela did to me, don’t you? I assume that’s what that little powwow with Mom was about before we left.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that, kiddo. I wanted to give you a heads up, but Angela and your mother would have killed me.”
I sighed. “If it makes you feel any better, I’d rather be home watching the fight with you.”
“I know.” My dad chuckled. “But don’t worry. I’m TiVo-ing it for you.”
“Sweet.”
“Well, I should let you get back to your party now. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. No serial killers present. And, yes, before you ask, Rachel’s parents are home. There’s also no drugs, no alcohol, and plenty of prettier girls here than me to distract all the guys from the fact that I’m wearing a stupid dress.”
“Very funny. Just remember—home by midnight.”
I felt the urge to sigh again. “I wish you’d said ten,” I complained, making my dad laugh again.
“You’ll survive. I promise.”
“Yeah, yeah. Bye Dad.”
I laughed to myself as I hung up the phone, surprised that my dad had made me feel a little better. The feeling didn’t last long though, because Travis was still there asking dumb questions like, “Hey, is that the new iPhone? Can I see it?”
