The Dating Debate (Dating Dilemma)
Page 11
“That’s probably a good idea.”
She walked off toward the other picketers. Her friend Lisa hung back a minute. “Just so you know, you can still fix things with Nina, if you actually like her.” And then she took off.
Matt and Charlie both looked at me like they were waiting for me to say something. “What?”
“She’s still into you,” Matt said.
Charlie nodded. “So what are you going to do about it?”
I pointed at the library. “Hello…possible dead body trumps dating issues.”
The police arrived ten minutes later. It turned out squatters had been living in the basement, and they had left behind garbage and other less pleasant forms of waste.
“We’ll have to get someone in here to clear this out,” the cop said. “Unless you want to volunteer?”
I wasn’t sure if he was joking. “No thanks.” There was only so much I was willing to do for extra credit.
The cop waved everyone over. “No one is going in the building until the basement has been cleaned out. So everyone can go home.” He seemed to direct that last part at the picketers.
“Well, this was a waste of time,” I muttered to Matt and Charlie. And the picketers seemed way too happy with how this played out. It’s not like they’d changed anything; the squatters were to blame for the delay.
Nina came back over toward me with her hands shoved in her jacket pockets. “So, I guess neither of us won this round.”
“I guess not.” She seemed to be waiting for me to continue the conversation. “I know you’re waiting for me to say something, but I have no clue what you want to hear.”
Matt and Charlie both cringed and walked away. Lisa chuckled and followed them.
“This sucks,” Nina said.
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“This…us…not talking.”
I agreed with her but didn’t know how to fix it. “I’d like to talk.” Something crawled across my scalp. I grimaced and scratched my head. “I swear there are more spiders in my hair. I have to go.”
All I wanted was a shower and food. The shower was the easy part. I washed my hair twice to make sure there weren’t any more creepy crawlers hanging around.
I checked the refrigerator. Not much to choose from. I should have picked something up on the way home because hot dogs weren’t going to cut it.
I could call for carryout, but did I want to bring food back here? It was Saturday night. Matt and Charlie had dates. They’d invited me to come along, but I didn’t want to be a third wheel.
So, I walked out to my car with no clear plan. I heard laughter coming from Nina’s backyard. What was she doing? Only one way to find out. I backtracked like I’d forgotten something, making sure to face her backyard.
Nina sat at a picnic table with her mom and brother. They were playing a board game. She glanced up at me with a question on her face. Decision time. I could ignore her or I could suck it up, admit I’d been a jerk, and see where that left us.
I walked over and said, “My hair is now arachnid free, so if you still want to talk we could go grab dinner.”
“Okay, but first I need to ask you a question.”
Jason’s cell rang. He answered it and walked to the other side of the yard. Nina’s mom stood up. “I’ll go inside and give you guys a few minutes to hash this out.”
Nina gestured at the recently vacated seat. I sat and waited to hear what she’d say.
“What was that about the other day?” She pointed toward the shed. “Did you kiss me because you wanted to kiss me or because you wanted to make a point?”
“Both.” It was the truth.
“Okay.” She leaned forward. “Then why did you abandon me?”
There was no answer to this question that wouldn’t make me look like a dick. “Because sometimes I’m an overcompetitive jerk, and I was caught up in winning the argument?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Telling you, I guess. And I’m sorry.” I reached across the table and laced my fingers through hers. “Does it help if I tell you that I’ve missed you and I know it was a dick move and I’ll try to avoid doing anything like that again?”
“Yes, it does, and yes it was.”
“I know. I’m sorry. So…are we good?” I asked.
“If we have problems in the future, do you promise you’ll talk to me like a rational human being rather than running off and abandoning me? You know I have issues in that area.”
Shit. I hadn’t even thought about that. “I promise.”
“All right then,” she said. “Let’s go grab dinner.”
Thank goodness. Now we could go back to having fun together. I’d missed her, missed talking to her…heck, I even missed the way she liked to argue about everything.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
West
We ended up going to a barbecue place downtown. The food was good, and being around Nina felt right. After we left the restaurant, I had no idea what to do.
“Where to next?” I said. Because as long as I was with her, what we did really didn’t matter. Hell, did I just think that? It seemed like one of those sappy greeting cards.
“It’s such a nice night. Do you want to walk past the shops?”
God, no. Maybe I should have come up with a suggestion. Downtown was full of shops that sold antiques and little glass figurines that served no purpose on the planet except to collect dust.
“This is me being completely honest. I’ve never understood why people want to do that, but I’m willing to give it a shot. How about we walk past a few shops, and you can explain to me why it’s supposed to be fun.”
“Challenge accepted.” She held out her hand. “The first rule of window shopping is that all couples strolling—”
“We’re strolling? I’m not sure I’ve done that before. Do I need to stretch first?”
“Stroll, walk, wander, however you want to phrase it. The first rule of strolling past shops is you must hold hands.”
“Okay.” I held her hand. “Now what?”
“I’ll explain as we go.” She gestured toward the shops across the street. Once we’d made it to the first shop window, she said, “Second rule is, you look at whatever is in the window display and comment on it.”
This particular shop sold antique dolls. A child-sized doll sat in a rocking chair in the window. It had realistic glass eyes that seemed to stare straight into your soul.
“So, what do you think?” Nina asked.
“I think that doll is terrifying and it would scar a child for life.”
Nina laughed. “I agree. On to the next shop.”
The next window featured blown-glass sculptures. “I love the blue and green vase,” Nina said.
“I am resisting the impulse to mention dust.”
“Thank you. If you weren’t fixated on dust, which one would you buy?”
I studied my choices. They were works of art. One day, when I didn’t live in a maze of Rubbermaid boxes, I might consider buying something like this. “I like the sunset-colored bowl.”
“Good choice. That’s my second favorite.”
Apparently, I was getting the hang of this. More people had joined us on the sidewalk, and we shuffled along for a few minutes until we reached the next store. “Is there a rule for what you do between windows?” I asked.
“Nothing official. We can make small talk or people watch.” She pointed toward a woman across the street wearing some sort of costume with wings on her back. “Whenever someone wears a costume like that in public I think it should be socially acceptable to ask them why. Is she in a play? Does she waitress at a fantasy bar?”
“A fantasy bar?”
“Yes. In my head there is a bar where people dress up like elves and fairies and whatever other fantasy creatures they want.”
“I think that’s called Comic-Con.”
“Maybe.” She pulled me toward the next window, which featured Christmas
ornaments.
I hated Christmas. “How can a store that sells Christmas ornaments survive all year long?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m not a big fan.”
“Really? I imagined you’d have a tree decorated with book-themed ornaments.”
“That would be pretty cool,” she said. “But Christmas Day was when my mom figured out she wanted a divorce… So, not my favorite holiday.”
“I’m not big on the holiday season either,” I admitted.
“Any particular reason?” she asked.
She’d shared with me. I wanted to share some part of the truth with her. “My mom’s condition flared up during the holidays a few years ago.”
“Sorry.” She squeezed my hand. “There should be a rule that bad stuff can’t happen on holidays.”
“That would be nice.”
“I love the next store.” She tugged me forward. In the window, there were paper sculptures made from books. It took me a moment to realize the books were open, and the paper had been cut or twisted to create scenes. “I’m surprised you’re not offended on behalf of the books.”
“I like that they’ve been turned into art.” She pointed at one where the pages had been sculpted to look like a tree. “I love that one.”
“I’m going to go with the obvious.” I pointed at one that said: READ.
“West? What are you doing here?”
I knew that voice. Keeping a calm expression on my face, I turned to see Vicky and Cole holding hands.
“According to Nina,” I held up our joined hands, “I am strolling and window shopping.”
Vicky smiled at Nina. “I have no idea how you got him to agree to this, but congratulations.”
Nina shrugged. “I kind of sprung it on him. He’s doing a pretty good job so far.”
“Cole, help me out here. This is not a guy thing.”
“No. It’s a date thing. My take on it is, we’re supposed to smile and nod and make mental notes for future birthday presents.”
Vicky grinned. “In that case, there’s the cutest jewelry store down the street.” She tugged Cole in that direction.
Nina laughed. “Maybe it was fate that Vicky and Cole ended up together,”
“Whatever you say, Luna. On to the next window.” She laughed, which is what I’d been going for. See, I could do this boyfriend thing. Maybe Vicky just hadn’t been the right girl for me and, maybe, Nina was.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Nina
I couldn’t believe how well this evening was turning out. Part of me kept waiting for West to become annoyed about something, but so far so good. Once we reached the end of the block, we crossed the street and headed back toward the parking lot where we’d left his car. Holding West’s hand felt right. I was waiting for him to let go. While I had a pretty firm grasp on window shopping, West and this whole dating thing was still a mystery.
When we got to the parking lot, he hit the unlock button on his key fob and the car lights flashed. I took that as my cue to release his hand. I opened the car door and climbed in. He walked around, got in, and started the car, but he didn’t put his seat belt on. Instead, he leaned toward me. Like a dork, I already had my seat belt on. I leaned over while casually trying to hit the button to release the seat belt, but my fingers couldn’t find the right spot.
West smiled at me. “Are you stuck?”
“Maybe.” I glanced down at the seat belt release, which had twisted around and sunk into the seat. “Uhm…I think I might have to live in your car.”
He laughed. “Allow me.” He adjusted the seat belt back to its proper spot and hit the button.
“My hero,” I said, before I leaned in and pressed my mouth against his, and then I stopped thinking. Everything narrowed down to his hand on my hip, pulling me toward him, and his mouth against mine. Despite the random bumps in our dating life so far, this part was easy. This part, being close to him like this…it worked. Too soon, he pulled away and drove out of the parking lot. I sat there in a happy post-kissing haze of bliss, feeling content with the world.
“Do you really want to go to the Valentine’s Dance next weekend, or would you rather do something else? And please notice the hopeful tone in my voice about doing something else.”
I laughed. “You’re in luck, because in theory, school dances are supposed to be this magical experience. In reality, it’s dressing up in uncomfortable clothes to stand around in the same place where a bunch of kids sweat every day. Doing something else sounds like a good plan to me.”
“That’s a relief,” he said.
“I wonder what else is going on.” I pulled out my cell and Googled local Valentine’s events. “Some restaurants are offering special dinners, which probably means a limited menu where they charge twice the normal price.”
West chuckled. “You’re so cynical.”
“I can’t think of a single holiday that isn’t stressful. I like Halloween because it’s free license to eat as much chocolate as you want, but Thanksgiving and Christmas just make me feel stupid.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I used to look forward to my dad coming home for the holidays. My mom always made a big deal out of us being together as a family. She worked so hard to make everything perfect. And now, despite all that Hallmark-card-type bullshit, we’re not together anymore. So the whole idea of the perfect family gathering seems like a big, fat lie.”
“I used to like the holidays, back when my mom was nor—not sick.”
The way he said it made me think he’d meant to say something else. We turned onto our street, and then he pulled in the driveway and parked.
“What were you going to say, before you said ‘not sick?’ And keep in mind that I’ve been baring my soul over here, so you don’t have to worry about oversharing.”
He turned the car off and stared at the steering wheel. “It sounds mean, and that’s not how I want to sound. I was going to say back when she was normal.”
I reached over and grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry. My dad made his choices, but your mom didn’t choose to become ill.” And now the mood had nose-dived. “On to happier topics.” I scrolled through Valentine’s Day events. “How would you feel about a chocolate festival? We’d buy tickets and sample some chocolate and watch pastry chefs create chocolate sculptures.”
“Why don’t we keep it simple and go to a movie?” he suggested.
“That will be plan B.” The time on my cell said it was nine thirty. I was having so much fun, I didn’t want the evening to end. “Do you want to come to my house and watch television?”
“Sure.”
I unhooked my seat belt and then pointed at what I’d done. “Did you see?”
“Good job,” he said, like he was praising a small child.
“Come on.” I opened the car door and headed for my front door. He fell into step beside me. The evening seemed surreal. Being with him made me happy. I think I made him happy, too. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to look for? Someone who made you feel better when they were around, made you feel better about yourself? We may not be on the same side about keeping the library open, but as long as he was honest with me, everything would work out okay.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
West
I followed Nina to her front door. She’d been so honest with me. Could I tell her what was really going on with my mom? If my dad ever found out, he’d be furious. It’s not like telling Nina would change the truth. Still…I hated not telling her the truth.
She unlocked the front door and Gidget bounded toward us. I could actually see dog fur flying off her as she moved.
“Hey, girl.” Nina reached down to pet Gidget. More fur went flying. “Do you need to go outside?”
I followed Nina to the back patio doors. Gidget walked outside and trotted around the yard with her nose to the grass, sniffing so deeply I could see her ribs expand like bellows.
“Is she trying to inhale the grass?” I asked.r />
“She’s probably on the trail of a rabbit,” Nina said, “even though we have a no-eating-the-bunnies agreement, which she sticks to most of the time.”
“What does that mean?”
“One day last spring, she brought my mom a bunny head, as a gift.”
“Just the head?”
Nina cringed. “Yes. Just the head. It was beyond disturbing. My mom and I both screeched and screamed and engaged in the mother of all freak-outs. So we traumatized the dog pretty good, too. Since then, we haven’t had any incidents.”
I now had two reasons not to have a dog: flying fur and random animal heads.
Wind whipped through the backyard. The temperature seemed to be dropping. It smelled like rain. I checked my cell. “Looks like a storm will be coming through.”
“Fair warning, Gidget hates storms.”
Lightning crackled off in the distance. Gidget’s ears flattened to her head, and she dashed back inside.
We followed the dog and sat on the couch. Nina grabbed the remote and scanned through the channels. “What do you want to watch?”
“American Ninja Warrior is probably on.”
“Sounds good.” She found the right channel. One of the contestants was about to run up the warped wall. “I have no idea how they can do that.”
“Practice,” I said. “All the people who are really good built their own obstacle courses in their backyards or they belong to Ninja gyms.”
“A Ninja gym sounds like fun,” she said.
“You want to be a bookworm, hippie-chick, American Ninja?” The idea made me smile.
“Maybe.”
Lightning flashed through the sky, followed by a blast of thunder that shook the house. Blonde fur streaked toward us and thumped into my chest. Suddenly, there was a large blonde beast on the couch with us.
“It’s okay, Gidget.” Nina hugged the dog who was sitting partially on her lap and part on mine. Gidget shivered and shoved her head under Nina’s arm.
“What is she doing?”
“When she’s scared, she turns into a giant lap dog.”
Giant was right. She must weigh sixty pounds. “Is she trying to play ostrich?”