by Hantz, Sara
“Why don’t I phone you later instead. In case I’m asleep and the ringing wakes me up, you know how loud the ring tone is on my cell.” And just in case I’m back after you, which I could well be as Truck-fest is over an hours drive away.
I glance at my watch. Crap. I’m going to be late if I don’t get rid of Lori. I have another coughing fit, which seems to do the trick and we say goodbye. Then I make a mad dash for the bathroom.
No need to make an effort, obviously. As I’m not trying to impress. Though for the sake of my personal pride I can’t go out looking a total wreck so I do put on a light covering of foundation, some lip-gloss and a touch of mascara—no eye-shadow as I read recently that you should do lips or eyes and not both. So, now I’m suddenly an officiando on make-up. It’s truly scary.
More importantly however, and I’m really excited about this, laid out on my bed for me to wear is my favorite long black tie-dye skirt and a striped shirt that Maddie gave me for my birthday last year.
After admiring them on the bed briefly, I put on my clothes and pull open my closet so I can see myself in the full-length mirror on the inside of the door. I gasp at my reflection. It’s like looking at the ghost of Christmas past or whoever it was in that book. I look strange, but in a familiar sort of way. And the more I stare at myself the more I like what I see. For want of something better to say, it’s like I’ve come home. Maddie will laugh when I tell her, she’s always saying I have over-the-top clichéd tendencies.
“Suzy. Ryan’s here,” Mom calls.
“Won’t be a minute.”
Crap. I’m nowhere near ready. My hair isn’t properly dry which means I’ll be sporting the ultimate in frizz within a couple of hours. I’ll have to put it up. Even though Ryan loves it down. Oh no. I seriously didn’t think that. Some evil little monster in my head planted the thought there.
Right, no question now. My hair is going up. I grab it with both hands and scrape it as tightly as I can off my face—so tightly in fact that I almost rip my hair from my scalp. Ouch. I look in the mirror and cringe. Well, Ryan won’t be under any illusion that I made an effort for him. That’s for sure.
I run down the stairs into the hall where Ryan is waiting by the front door leaning casually against the wall, a lazy cute smile on his face. Stop it.
“Hi Suzy.”
“Hi Ryan. You go to the car and I’ll join you in a sec. I just want to have a quick word with Mom.”
He frowns but doesn’t say anything, just shrugs his shoulders then opens the front door and heads off down the path toward his car.
“Suzy,” admonishes Mom in that special tone of hers. “That wasn’t very nice.”
Suddenly it feels like I’ve stepped back into my old life with Mom having a go at me for everything I do. I wonder if it’s the clothes I’m wearing. They must bring out the tyrant in her. Or am I doing my usual and blowing things out of proportion? I guess I could be. I’ll put it down to these nerves of mine which are messing with my head big time. Not because of my feelings for Ryan, before anyone gets the wrong idea. But because of all this deceit. It doesn’t sit right. And I feel I’m setting myself up for a huge fall.
“What wasn’t?” I reply in the calmest voice I can muster.
“Speaking to Ryan like that.”
“He doesn’t mind. Anyway I need to speak to you and I don’t want him to hear.” She doesn’t look convinced. Oh well not a lot I can do about that now I don’t have time. “Look, if anyone from school phones, like Lori or Guy, please will you tell them I’m sick and asleep in bed?”
Now she really looks cross. She folds her arms and glares at me. And believe me she knows how to glare. Grown men have withered under less.
“Suzy. If you think I’m going to lie for you then think again. I’ve warned you before about playing people off against one another.”
“But Mom you don’t understand. I can go to VC events any time. How often will I get the chance to go to Truck-fest? I’ll tell you. Probably never again seeing as it won’t come back to this area for another five years and who knows where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing by then. I didn’t have a choice.”
“Of course you had a choice. There’s always a choice. You could have told your friends about Truck-fest. They might have wanted to come with you. In fact the club could have changed the date for their picnic so you could all go.” God help me. She’s on a roll. “See Suzy there’s always a choice. And lying shouldn’t be one of them.”
I let out a huge sigh. She just doesn’t get it. Doesn’t get it at all.
“I know what you’re saying, Mom. And I’m really sorry for putting you on the spot like this. But it’s too late to change things now. I’ve already told everyone I’m not well. You don’t want me to lose all my new friends do you? Especially after I’m doing so well at school and everything.” Okay so that’s a bit below the belt but really I have to employ whatever tactics I can. And quickly. Or Ryan might go without me.
She breathes loudly through her nose. If fire comes out of her nostrils it wouldn’t surprise me.
“Just this once. But don’t ask me to do it again. Because you know what the answer will be.”
“Thanks Mom. You’re the best.” I fling my arms around her and give her a big kiss on the check. “See you later. Love you.”
Chapter Nineteen
I run down the path to Ryan’s car, a white Ford I think. Though I could be totally wrong as apart from Minis I suck when it comes to identifying cars. Whatever, it’s certainly seen better days that’s for sure. Unlike Guy’s brand new one. Not that I’m comparing the two. As far as I’m concerned, as long as the car gets me from one place to another without breaking down I don’t care whether it’s new or old—but don’t tell Guy I said that because I have a sneaking suspicion he won’t agree.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I say, opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat.
“Mom wasn’t impressed with me asking you to leave and told me so.”
Ryan chuckles. “Don’t worry about it.”
I sense his eyes on me as I straighten my skirt out from where it’s got all caught and wriggle around to make myself a bit more comfortable. I meant what I said about not caring about cars, but next time I’m in here I might just bring a cushion—if there is a next time, which I doubt.
“Well it’s good to see you haven’t totally changed beyond all recognition,” Ryan says, grinning at me.
“Excuse me?” I scowl at him. His lopsided grin might have made me go all silly once but it doesn’t work now. And if he’s going to insult me the whole day then I’m going back home. Screw him. I know who Lori and others will believe if he tries to say anything about me.
“Hey. Calm down. I only meant since meeting again this is the first time you’ve looked remotely like the old Suzy. You know. With your clothes and that.”
Well, how was I to know that’s what he meant?
“That’s okay then.” I turn away, to hide the flush that I can feel creeping up my face, and stare out of the window. “Between you and me,” I say after a few moments, “it feels good to be like this. Not that it changes things.” I thump the car seat and a puff of dust shoots up. Gross. He could have vacuumed the car before coming around. Then again, why should he? He’s not making an effort either. “I have my goal for the year and if it means making some sacrifices then that’s fine with me.”
“Amen,” Ryan says.
“Okay so I do sound a bit preachy. I admit it.”
“A bit. That’s an understatement. Anyway, before we go anywhere I want you to know your secret, or should I say our secret is safe. I don’t want you worrying about it all day long and not enjoying yourself.”
“It is?” What a guy. Don’t you just love him? In the platonic sense I mean.
“Yep. So, lets go.”
I pretend to be concentrating on the road ahead while Ryan starts the car and drives away from my house, but really I’m giving him the once over through my
peripheral vision. You know, this whole going-out that’s not a going-out thing would be a lot easier if he still wasn’t so hot.
And why did he have to wear that blue polo shirt with his jeans. He knows I think he looks good in blue. I remember when we were strolling through the park at camp we had this long conversation about colors and which ones he should wear. Not that he’ll remember. Why should he? Color is such a girly thing.
Suzy, enough already.
I’m right, this has got to stop. We’re a couple of friends out on a day trip. And if I start to go down the reminiscing road one more time I’ll—um—I’ll—
“Is that a yes or no?” Ryan’s question pulls me back from threatening myself.
“Sorry?”
“I thought you weren’t listening. You had that faraway look in your eyes.”
“You shouldn’t be studying my eyes, you should be concentrating on the road.” Help, I’m being visited by my mother.
“Yes, Mom.” See, even Ryan felt it.
He takes hold of the steering wheel with both hands and keeping his arms straight he leans forward and peers ahead—trying to look serious except he keeps smirking.
“Okay, okay,” I say giggling. “Normal service will resume shortly. Parental invasion intercepted and dealt with. Now what was the question?”
“The tickets allow us into the stands, which means we can sit down, or would you rather hang by the trackside? It makes a difference to which car-park I go into.”
“Up to you. They’re your tickets.” Choose the trackside. Please choose the trackside. I’ve never been that close before. Though I guess it could be dangerous if one of them crashes.
“Our tickets.” Aw, he’s so sweet. “I fancy the trackside, but if you’d rather be a bit further away that’s fine. It’s quite noisy when you’re that close.”
“Are you kidding? I’d love to be that close. It’s so exiting.” I jump around in my seat like a small kid going to a party, then realize he must think me stupid and immature so quickly freeze and jam my waving hands under my legs to keep them still.
The rest of the journey goes in a flash, we either talk about nothing much or sit in silence. But not awkward silence, it’s easy and enjoyable. As we get closer to the venue the traffic becomes heavier and it takes an age to go just a few miles. Eventually we park the car and begin to walk across the fields to the track.
“Wow,” I shout to Ryan as we get close to where some trucks are already revving up for one of the races and exhaust fumes are billowing everywhere. “This is awesome.”
He says something in reply but I can’t hear him and shrug. He grabs my hand and leads me toward a place just behind the starting post. I’m not even thinking about the beating of my heart because I know it’s excitement from the race that’s causing it to hammer against my ribcage so erratically.
From our excellent vantage point we can see these huge trucks vying for position as they start. The speed they fly around the track is nothing short of breathtaking. All I can say is it’s a good job they don’t drive like that when they’re on the road. Ooops, sorry. Mom sneaking out here again.
We watch three races, the third of which has my heart in my mouth as two trucks come charging around the bend and one accidentally (well, I hope it was) catches the wheel of the other one on the side bit of its bumper (no idea what the technical term is) and huge sparks shoot out of them.
“Lunch?” Ryan yells after the first four trucks finish.
I nod my head in agreement. It’s seems ages since breakfast and I’m starving.
I follow him away from the track to where the food vans are parked and we both get burger and fries.
“Thanks for bringing me,” I say once we’ve found a patch of grass to sit on that’s far enough away from the action to hear each other. “I just love it.” I unwrap my burger and take a huge bite. Yum. Mustard and ketchup mixed together oozes out and I manage to stop it from dripping with my tongue. Crap. What must he think of my manners?
“I hoped you might. I knew old Suzy would. But wasn’t sure about new one.” I wish he’d stop going on about old and new Suzy. It makes me feel so superficial.
“What’s not to like?”
“Not all girls share your passion for truck racing. It’s hardly glamorous.”
“I suppose. Maddie does. But Rosie definitely didn’t. When Maddie and I went last time Rosie thought it so funny. Called us Truckies. She should have tried it though, I think she’d have enjoyed it.” I put my burger in the wrapper and sit back on the grass, leaning on my elbows. I watch as Ryan takes two fries from his box and eats them.
“So, tell me how come you ended up around here then?” I ask before he could ask me anything about Rosie. Not that I know for sure he was planning to, but I just have this funny feeling he might and it’s not the time.
“Dad lost his job and his family come from here so he decided we’d move.” A frown crosses his face. “It would’ve been nice to have been consulted though.” He strums his fingers on his thigh. Not the best of places for my eyes to be drawn.
“You didn’t want to move?’ Takes me back to when Mom and Dad said we were moving. Although Dad’s secondment is only for a year. And it’s not like he had a choice if he wanted to hang onto his job. And they did ask what I thought. But I suspect it was a fait accompli, they’d already decided. Not that I minded. I was glad to get away. Apart from leaving Maddie.
Ryan stops strumming and leans forward wrapping his arms around his long legs. He fixes me with a bewildered stare.
“Are you kidding? Why would I want to leave my friends and school and job to come to here?”
“Do you keep in touch with any of your old friends?” What I really want to know is did he leave behind a girlfriend. Not for any reason other than general nosiness, of course, plus it’s the first thing Maddie will ask when we speak.
“Some of them. But I’m going back as soon as school’s over to enroll in a design course at college.”
“That’s cool. I remember the things you made at camp. I’ve still got that wooden box with shells on you gave me.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. And I metaphorically slap myself on the head—am I a dick, or what?
“You have?”
“Yeah. Not sure where exactly. Probably in my summer camp box. I always keep things from places I visit. I’m such a hoarder.” His face drops. Crap. Now I feel mean. “Sorry.”
“Forget it. I didn’t think you were going to keep everything I gave you under your pillow or anything.” He turns his head but not before I see the flush creeping up his face.
We sit in silence for a while and finish our lunch. After, Ryan grabs our trash and screws it up into a tight ball. There’s clearly something on his mind, judging by the frown on his face.
“Why didn’t you—um didn’t you—I mean after everything we did—why didn’t—”
“I couldn’t,” I interrupt. “I,—well—I sort of—” Oh what the hell, I might as well get it over with. “I threw the paper with your number on it out the bus window.”
“Why?”
“Someone told me something and I believed them. I did it in temper. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later that I found out the truth. And it was too late.” I shake my head. I sound like the most stupid girl on the planet.
“Who told you what?”
“On the bus Mandy Johnson told me you kissed her.” Oh God. I can’t believe I’m telling him this. It’s the most embarrassing thing ever.
“And you believed her?” There’s no mistaking the disbelieving tone in his voice.
“At the time, yes. Anyone would, she was so convincing. Told me where it happened and everything and I knew that I wasn’t with you then. So it had to be true.”
“Suzy, you know I wouldn’t have done that to you. After all we shared.” He shakes his head slowly. “I thought you knew me better than that.”
“I’m sorry. But at the time—And when I found out she’d lied I
thought about trying to find you. Maddie and I talked about nothing else. Planning what we were going to do. Then Rosie had her accident and—well, you know the rest.” Most of the rest, I should say.
“If you’d have given me your number none of this would’ve happened. I could’ve phoned and put you straight.” Rub it in, why don’t you. At the time Mom and Dad, in an attempt to try and curb my behavior, were on their you’re-too-young-to-have-a-boyfriend kick so I couldn’t risk someone else answering the phone if I wasn’t there or them checking my cell if I left it lying around.
“I know that now.”
“As it happens I did phone you.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“You what?”
“I managed to get your details. Took a bit of doing, but I did. I phoned about three weeks after camp. Spoke to your dad. I take it he didn’t tell you.”
What? This is so crazy.
“That was when Rosie had the accident. Dad must forgotten all about it. I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. These things happen.”
“You say that now. But if I’d trusted you in the first place none of this would have happened. You know, I did some stupid things when I was younger, but I guess this rates up there as one of the stupidest.” But I have to try and forget it. It’s history. I’ve more important things to worry about now.
“You can say that again.”
“I did some stupid things when I was younger, but I guess this rates—Ouch,” I cry as the ball of trash Ryan throws hits my face. “Right. You asked for it.”
I pick up my drink, finished apart from the ice, take off the lid and throw the ice at him. Sensing my days are numbered, I take off as fast as I can from where we’re sitting.
After a few seconds I glance over my shoulder. Crap. He’s gaining on me and I’m fast running out of breath. In front of me is the ladies bathroom, if I can get there I’ll be safe. And I’m almost there when-
“Gotya,” Ryan’s voice echoes in my ear.
