Christy Miller Collection, Volume 1

by Robin Jones Gunn

  “We just decided today, Aunt Marti. I didn’t know you had anything else planned!” There was a time, dear aunt, when you pushed me out on the beach to make these new friends. Do you now object to my spending time with them?

  In a squeezed voice, Aunt Marti said, “Tell me, dear, are you available, say, the day after tomorrow? Perhaps we could go to lunch.”

  Christy glanced at Uncle Bob and then answered in a voice that came out too sweet, too bright: “Sure! That would be great.”

  Satisfied, Aunt Marti smiled, looked at her food, and slowly took another bite.

  All Christy could think was, A whole day. I’m going to end up spending a whole day with my aunt, and I could have been spending it with Todd.

  When Aunt Marti dropped Christy off at Tracy’s house the next day she said, “Now remember, we’ve got plans for tomorrow, so please don’t promise any of your friends that you’ll do something with them. All right?”

  Christy agreed and thanked her aunt for the ride, but inside she felt soured. Her aunt had manipulated her all last summer, but now it irritated her to pieces. She no longer welcomed Aunt Marti’s interference in her life.

  Nevertheless, her dad had said she was to remember that she was a guest this week, and she was to fit into her aunt and uncle’s plans. She would simply have to try harder.

  Heather and Leslie opened the door and warmly greeted Christy. She stepped into the living room, where two guys were planted in front of the TV, playing a video game.

  She could see Todd in the kitchen, helping Tracy and her mom make pizza. He sprinkled a handful of cheese onto the top before shoving another handful of cheese into his mouth. Tracy playfully punched him in the arm. Christy wondered if she should go into the kitchen or wait until Todd noticed her.

  “Christy!” Doug suddenly stood in front of her. He had changed a lot since the summer. Home for Christmas vacation after his first semester at San Diego State, he looked like a college student. His blond hair was styled shorter than the last time she’d seen him. He wore a neatly pressed green shirt and was clean-shaven. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the little boy look in his eyes when he grinned.

  “Hi, Doug!”

  “How are you?” He gave her an awkward hug around the neck and said, “Come over here and sit down. Tell me about Escondido. How’s school? Do you like it better here than in Wisconsin?”

  They chatted easily for a few minutes, with Doug turned sideways, resting his arm on the back of the couch. “You look good in blue,” he said. “Makes your eyes look real clear.”

  Christy could feel herself blushing as she said, “Thanks.”

  Just then Todd walked into the living room. Christy caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. Was he coming over to talk to her? No, he went back into the kitchen.

  Doug talked about school and his new truck. Then, out of nowhere, he said, “You know, Christy, I’m so glad you’re here and that everything’s going well for you!” He gave her another quick, awkward hug. It was a real “Doug” thing. He was always hugging people and trying to cheer them up and encourage them.

  Just then, Tracy popped her head into the room. When her gaze fell on Doug and Christy hugging on the couch, she gave them a strange look that lasted for only an instant. Then she called out, “Come eat, you guys! Pizza’s ready!”

  They gathered in the kitchen around the counter, which was spread with soft drinks, paper plates, and three steaming pizzas. Doug reached over and snitched an olive. Christy playfully swatted his hand. She caught Tracy’s gaze, and again, for a brief moment, Tracy looked mad.

  “Let’s pray, you guys,” Brian suggested and took the hands of the people standing next to him around the counter.

  The rest of them followed his gesture. Doug took Christy’s hand as she reached for Heather’s on the other side. Doug’s hand felt strong, a little bit rough, but very warm.

  The sensations confused her. They were supposed to be praying, like brothers and sisters, yet she felt a bombardment of mixed emotions.

  I wish I were holding Todd’s hand instead. Or do I? Doug is acting interested in me, but is he really? Why is Tracy looking mad? Was I supposed to help her make the pizza? And why is she over there, next to Todd, when that’s where I want to be?

  “Amen,” Brian said. They dropped hands and dove for the pizza.

  Christy felt ashamed that she hadn’t heard a word of Brian’s prayer. She slipped one slice of pizza onto her plate, grabbed a can of soda pop, and found a chair at the kitchen table next to Heather. She thought it would be good if she kept her distance from the guys for a few minutes, until she had her thoughts straight.

  “Your hair looks cute,” she said to Heather, who automatically patted the French braid Leslie had made.

  “It feels as though it’s about to fall out.”

  “Doesn’t look like it,” Christy said, examining the braid more closely.

  “Your hair is long enough to braid,” Heather commented. “I can’t believe it grew so fast!”

  “I like it long,” said a male voice.

  Christy turned to see Todd sitting down next to her.

  “What?” Heather said in a squeaky voice. “You like Christy’s hair long? When did you ever see it long?”

  Todd took a bite of his pizza, the cheese stringing out. Doug reached over and broke the string bridge with his finger before sitting down across from Christy. She felt excited with the sudden attention, yet uncomfortable at the same time.

  Todd swallowed his wad of pizza and looked right at Christy with an expression she didn’t recognize. “Used to be almost to her waist,” he said. “I liked it long.” Then he took another bite of pizza.

  Christy sat perfectly still, running the information through her mind. She came to California last summer with long hair but had it all whacked off the day before she met Todd. How would he know she used to have long hair?

  “I liked it long too,” Doug added.

  Just then Tracy came over to the table and took the last chair, right next to Doug.

  “What are you guys talking about?” she asked.

  “Tracy,” Heather said, sounding perplexed, “did you ever see Christy with long hair? These guys are being mean and saying they liked her better with long hair.”

  The girls looked at Christy, waiting for her to make sense of the conversation. The guys kept eating, glancing at each other as if they knew some great secret.

  Christy quickly pulled an explanation together. “I had long hair the first few days I was here last summer, but I got it cut the day before I met all of you. I don’t know when these guys saw it long, unless …” She stopped. “Oh, no. Were you the guys who made fun of my old bathing suit that day on the beach?” Christy looked at them with panic in her eyes.

  “What bathing suit?” Tracy asked.

  “What day?” Heather said. “What are you talking about?”

  Doug and Todd kept eating, wearing their smirky little expressions. Christy looked as though she was about to throw something at them.

  Doug must have realized her intentions because he quickly swallowed, leaned forward, and said, “We weren’t the ones who made the rude comments. But we did notice you that day.”

  There was a pause, and then Doug added, “We definitely noticed you that day.”

  “You were kind of hard to miss,” Todd mumbled before stuffing another bite of pizza past his upturned lips.

  Doug nearly choked on his drink when Todd said it. He grabbed a napkin, covered his mouth and nose, and sputtered, “Rude, Todd! Rude!”

  Christy wanted to run from the room and cry her eyes out. How could they do this to her? That was a horrible experience, the day the surfers had laughed at her “green bean” bathing suit. Why would Todd and Doug be so mean as to bring it up now? She lowered her head and blinked fast so the tears wouldn’t come.

  “Anybody else want some more pizza?” Todd said, getting up from his chair. Then, before he left the table, he leaned
over and whispered in Christy’s ear so no one else could hear, “I like your hair now, but I really liked it long.” Then off he went to get more pizza.

  Christy’s heart pounded. She could still feel the sensation of his whisper, his warm breath on her neck. The welled-up tears instantly evaporated, but then the anger came. Why do you always do this to me, Todd? she thought. You put me on this roller coaster, and the worst part is, you seem to enjoy it!

  Skinny Heather turned red in the face and pounded her hand on the table. “You guys are all a bunch of … you’re all …”

  “Gweeks?” Doug questioned and let out a hearty laugh.

  Todd returned laughing too, looking as if he were having a great time.

  “Well, maybe we girls just don’t want to go ice-skating with all you ‘gweeks.’ What do you think, Tracy, Christy, should we leave these guys and go to the mall?”

  “No!” Tracy said too quickly, and they all looked at her in surprise. “I mean, I already called the ice rink, and they’re giving us a discount because we have more than eight people coming.”

  “We should make the guys go by themselves and pay the higher price,” Heather said and then gave Todd and Doug a playful smirk. For emphasis she quickly stuck out her tongue at them.

  “I wouldn’t keep a dirty thing like that in my mouth either,” Doug said.

  Todd joined him in another boom of laughter. They were like that all the way to the ice-skating rink—like two eight-year-olds full of little boy tricks and jokes. It drove Christy crazy. She confided her frustration to Heather as they sat on a bench, watching the group skate to the blaring music.

  “Todd is driving me crazy! He’s acting like such a brat. I’m almost expecting him to pull a frog out of his pocket and chase me around the parking lot!”

  “Do you really like him?” Heather asked. Wisps of her thin blond hair had come out of the braid and now danced around her face. She looked so innocent, so trustworthy.

  “Can I tell you something?” Christy asked, lowering her voice.

  “Of course.” Heather’s eyes grew wide in anticipation.

  “I really, really, really like Todd. But I can’t figure out where I stand with him. One day he acts as if he likes me; the next day he’s a brat.”

  “That’s because he doesn’t know how much you like him! You’re so cute and sweet and friendly with everybody, I bet he has no idea that you’re really interested in him more than, say, Doug.”

  “That’s the crazy part,” Christy confided. “I almost thought he was jealous at Tracy’s because I was talking to Doug. But then he and Doug said all that embarrassing stuff, and I could have slugged both of them.”

  “You should have!” Heather said. “You know, I think that might be the way to go.”

  “What, physical abuse?”

  “No.” Heather giggled. “Get Todd jealous. He’s not a real fast mover, you know.”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “So, motivate him. Flirt your face off with Doug, and Todd will see that he’s going to lose you if he doesn’t act quickly.”

  “I don’t know, Heather. I’m not sure playing games is the way to go—with any guy.”

  “Just try it. What have you got to lose? Go ask Doug to skate and see what happens.”

  Christy shook her head hesitantly.

  “What have you got to lose? Come on, Christy. Try it.

  Go!”

  Christy reluctantly pegged her way across the floor on her ice skates and stood by the rail, watching the blur of people skating by. She saw Todd slowly skating on the outside with two junior high girls fluttering nearby, ready to pounce whenever he tumbled, which was quite often. Todd might be the tall, handsome champion surfer, but he was a klutz on ice skates. Christy figured it must be a different set of muscles or a different sense of balance. Whatever it was, she had it and Todd definitely did not. The junior high girls spotted him the minute he came in and had followed him around the rink all afternoon.

  Christy smiled, remembering when she and Paula, her old best friend in Wisconsin, were that age. They used to hover around the cute older guys, dreaming big high school dreams and exaggerating the stories about the guys each time they retold them.

  Now Christy was a big high-schooler. Was she still playing games? Was Heather’s make-him-jealous idea as stupid as some of the ideas Christy and Paula had schemed up in junior high?

  Just then the music stopped, the skaters cleared the ice, and the lights dimmed. The disc jockey announced a couples’ skate.

  Christy wished she were stepping out on the ice at that moment with Todd holding her hand, the way she had dreamed the day before.

  “There you are,” Doug said, suddenly coming up behind her. “I was looking for you. Want to skate?”

  “I, well.” Christy hated it when she stammered like this. She didn’t want to play a game to make Todd jealous, yet Doug had asked her, not the other way around. She glanced back at Heather, who was urging her with a wide-eyed expression to move forward.

  “Come on!” Doug said, taking her by the hand. “You know how to skate, Christy. I saw you out there. Don’t act like you don’t.”

  Doug knew how to skate too. Forward, backward—she had even seen him do a halfway decent spin in the center of the floor earlier. Now they skated hand-in-hand around the dimly lit rink. They were smooth.

  Doug said, “Let’s try something.” He pulled around in front of her so that he was skating backward. He put his hands on her waist, and she put hers on his upper arms. “You tell me if I’m going to crash, okay?”

  “I hope you’ve done this before,” Christy said tensely, “because I can only skate forward.”

  “No way! You can skate backward, can’t you?”

  “Look out!” Christy cautioned.

  Doug glanced over his shoulder and barely missed two little kids who had just tumbled. “Close one! Good call! Here, I’ll teach you how to skate backward.”

  For the rest of the couples’ skate, Doug and Christy worked on their little routine. First Doug skated backward, then he would gently spin Christy around so she was going backward. At first she kept looking over her shoulder, but then she relaxed and had a great time, feeling like a ballet dancer gracefully slicing through the air. It was wonderful.

  She looked for Todd but didn’t see him. Was he watching her? What was he thinking?

  The soft music came to an end, and the lights went back up. The floor flooded with noisy skaters. Doug directed Christy to the center of the rink to work out a spin in which Doug would twirl Christy around and she would end up in his other arm. It was so much fun Christy barely noticed when the lights dimmed again and “triples” were announced.

  “Let’s get another person so we can keep skating,” Doug said. “There’s Heather.”

  He pointed to a waving Heather at the sidelines and motioned for her to come out on the ice to join them. Heather grabbed Doug’s free hand, and the three took off around the rink.

  When Doug wasn’t looking, Heather motioned to Christy as if to say, “Good work! You’re flirting with Doug just the way I told you to!”

  Christy was quiet. She had forgotten all about trying to make Todd jealous. She and Doug were just having fun. It was no big deal. She didn’t even feel all that tingly about him holding her hand anymore. As a matter of fact, his hands were kind of sweaty.

  “Look!” Heather squeaked and pointed to a threesome bumbling along in front of them.

  It was Todd and two of the adoring junior-highers.

  “Hey, dude,” Doug called as they skimmed past, “nice crutches.”

  The girls giggled and tugged on Todd’s arms, pulling him along. Todd looked absolutely miserable. Christy felt guilty and jealous. Guilty for being with Doug and, as crazy as it sounded, jealous of the junior high girls. What were those little squirts doing with her “boyfriend,” anyway?

  This was not the way she had hoped the day would be. It had to get better. It had to change back into the drea
m she’d imagined the day before, where Todd—and not Doug—was the one making her feel like a floating angel. This was not at all turning out the way Christy wanted it to. She had to talk to Todd.

  Around five-thirty the group members turned in their skates and piled into Todd’s van. A discussion ensued as to what they should do next—all go home or go to dinner or go to a movie and have popcorn and M&M’s for dinner.

  Christy felt like going home and starting the day over. She had spent the whole time at the ice rink with Doug and hadn’t said one word to Todd. Sitting now in the front seat of Gus, she realized that this was the closest she had been to Todd all day. He looked okay—not mad or miserable but not great. Just okay.

  The group voted on going to dinner at Richie’s. Todd started up Gus and chugged out of the parking lot.

  “I’d better call my aunt and uncle to make sure it’s okay,” Christy said softly.

  Without turning to look at her, Todd, in his matter-of-fact way, said, “It’s on the way. We’ll stop by. If they say no, you’re already home.”

  What’s that supposed to mean? Christy thought. That you don’t want me to go? Are you hoping they’ll say no so you can drop me off and be rid of me? Todd! I’ve waited months to see you, and now I can’t even talk to you!

  When they pulled up in front of the house, Doug called after her, “Bring back some of those cookies you and Tracy made.”

  Christy hurried into the house and called out, “Uncle Bob?”

  “In here,” he answered from the den, where he sat with his feet up, reading the paper. The TV was on, and David was half watching it and half tinkering with his remote-control car.

  “Everybody’s out front waiting. They want to go to some place called Richie’s for dinner. May I go with them?”

  “Richie’s, you say? Good choice. Sure. Here,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “I’ve only got fifty dollars. Think that’ll be enough?”

  “Oh, that’s too much. I only need eight or ten dollars, I think.”

  “Take the fifty. Treat your friends to my favorite at Richie’s: Oreo Fantasy shake. It’s a killer. Have fun!”