Young Annabelle Series: Young Annabelle, The Truth About James, What My Heart Wants

by Sarah Tork

  “What sounds?” I asked.

  He suppressed his grin. “The nickname you gave, rolling off your tongue.”

  “Well, you gave me a nickname.” I explained.

  “That I did.” He smirked.

  “Are you going home now?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Nah, my dad’s going to pick me up in an hour.”

  “Oh, that’s cool.” I said.

  “You ride your bike to work, don’t your parents give you ride? These hills are kind of steep.” He asked.

  “My parents don’t believe in driving me places I can ride my bike to,” I explained simply.

  “Oh, they’re one of those Green Peace types?” He assessed.

  “No,” I replied. “They want me to lose weight.”

  Why did I just tell you that?

  “That’s stupid,” James replied. “You look fine to me.”

  My heart began to race.

  I’m fine, James thinks I’m fine!

  My inner pessimist took out her whip and slapped me a few times, telling me to take that sort of compliment with a grain of salt.

  “You’re just being nice,” I scoffed.

  “No, I’m not. It’s the truth. You look good to me.” He sounded completely sincere.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heating up.

  “Nothing to thank me for, it’s just the truth after all,” He told me. “Besides, it’s your parents that are making you feel like this. I sorta know what that’s like… My dad’s a dick.”

  “Yeah, my parents are always ruining my mood for no reason.” I decided I’d share with him, since he’d opened up a bit too.

  “I bet your parents have nothing on my dad. When I say he’s a dick, he’s really a dick,” James exclaimed.

  I didn’t fight him on it, not because I couldn’t go toe-to-toe with him on whose parents were the bigger assholes, but because I was hurting – this hill was killing me!

  “I’m sorry,” I replied, struggling to breathe as I stopped.

  “Here, let me,” He offered, taking the handlebars from me. We grazed again. Sigh!

  “Thanks.” Without the weight of the bike, the hill instantly became easier to climb. But that didn’t stop my thighs and calves from screaming when we reached the top.

  I glanced over to James and he was breathing normally, unlike me who was a panting mess. I took my bike from him, thanking him again. I climbed on and looked at him for a moment.

  “Can I have your cell number?” I heard him ask me, although the pounding of my heart made it difficult hear.

  I blinked. “Sure.”

  He pulled his cell from his back pocket and programmed my number into it. He muttered goodbye, then headed back down the hill without looking back.

  I rode home elated. I couldn’t believe he’d asked for my number!

  It wasn’t until I was pulling onto the property that I realized I’d forgotten about doing something to occupy my two hours. I was early, too early. This wasn’t good.

  After putting my bike away, I quickly scanned my calorie watch to see how many calories I’d burned until now. I was at a total of 350 calories. Even though I’d lost work hours, it didn’t hurt my count because climbing the hill saved me by giving me the extra fifty I needed to pass. Normally I wouldn’t have gone up the hill in one go. I would have stopped at least ten times to catch my breath and stretch my legs, and I would have climbed much slower.

  My hand stalled on the doorknob to my house. Before I turned it, I inhaled deeply. My brain needed all the oxygen it could get.

  Here goes nothing!

  “I’m home!” I yelled as I opened the door, entering the cool interior.

  “You’re home?” Mom yelled back, confused.

  I heard her excited footsteps trample up the stairs from the basement. She burst out from the basement door and came straight for me.

  “Why are you home early?” she demanded before I’d even gotten one shoe off.

  “It was really quiet so Shelby cut my shift early,” I explained. I made my way to the family room, expecting her to follow me. I plopped down on the couch and looked up to find the room was empty, Mom had disappeared. From the front hallway I heard a zipper open, and then Mom came into the family room holding my lunch box. She lifted the lid and examined it thoroughly, ensuring there was no food left.

  “You ate it all?” She asked.

  “Yes.” I nodded, slowly.

  She narrowed her eyes at me. “But you missed your second break, if she cut your shift, when did you eat the yogurt?”

  The interrogation had begun.

  Slowly, my teeth began to grind. My patience was wearing thin. “I ate it in the change room before I came home,” I lied.

  I could see Mom take a moment to mentally envision my day in her head, coordinating everything, making sure what I was saying made sense.

  “Oh, okay,” She finally said.

  I sighed inwardly. I was relieved to have overcome that hurdle.

  Mom sat down on the couch beside me. Then, all of a sudden, she leaned over and grabbed my watch.

  “Let me see your calorie burn!” She demanded.

  I tried to pull my wrist from her grasp. “Oh my God!” I yelled at her as she scanned the number.

  “Only 350?!” Mom exclaimed.

  I jumped off the couch and spun to face her, bewildered.

  “What do you mean, only 350?” I shrieked.

  She leaned back on the couch and pulled a pillow onto her lap, like a barrier between us.

  “You should have burned at least 400 calories by now,” She replied calmly. Her tone only served to infuriate me further.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I retorted. “We agreed I should burn at least 300 calories before dinner every day. I’m clearly over. I’ve gone above and beyond!”

  “That was last month, this month it’s 400. Your goals change every month, didn’t you listen to the nutritionist? As you begin to lose weight, the lighter you become the more calories you have to burn to keep losing the weight.” She explained.

  What the hell was all this mumbo jumbo? I did more than my fair share of exercise and now she wanted more!

  She rose from the couch and stood imposingly in front of me. “And you’ve already lost five pounds; do you think the next five are going to be as easy?”

  “It’ll come off,” I shrugged.

  “Oh really? Well I do hope so, Annabelle! Because you would do well to remember that school is only a few short weeks away. It’s your senior year, for heaven’s sake!” Mom shouted.

  I didn’t need any more reminders. I spent plenty of time thinking about gracing Royal Heights High School as a size ten yet again and it didn’t make me feel any better than when she did. I didn’t know why my mom insisted on making me feel as horrible as possible for being a size ten. It wasn’t like she had to walk around in my shoes. She didn’t have to wander the halls, void of boys ogling her, void of a boyfriend, void of affection and attention.

  I was as boring as they came.

  I was a wallflower!

  “I’m going to my room,” I muttered, heading out of the family room.

  “Wait,” She called after me, “before you go, I want those fifty calories!”

  I stopped in the doorway and spun around, giving her a look that screamed ‘You’re crazy!’

  She’s lost it. Absolutely lost it.

  “You want me to what?” I asked, horrified.

  “I want you to run up and down the stairs ’til you get that fifty.” She ordered.

  Was she being serious right now? Like right now?

  HELL NO!

  I shook my head. “I’m not doing anything except going to my room. And you’d better not bother me!” I ran from the room, grabbing my backpack from the front and jetting up the stairs. I slammed my door shut just in time to stop Mom from hearing me wheeze as I caught my breath from the short run.

  “ANNABELLE!” Mom yelled outs
ide my closed door.

  “Leave me alone!” I yelled.

  I flopped on my bed and listened to her walk away. I waited until I was certain she was gone before I began to change my clothes.

  Thank God we had some boundaries that she actually followed in this house!

  At least she respected me enough not to enter the one place that was supposed to be mine.

  I changed into a pair of blue shorts and a red shirt. The shorts cut off mid-thigh and the shirt went passed my hips, almost covering the shorts. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and scanned myself from head to toe. The shirt was a little tight but still had some room in it, the length elongated my torso making me look smaller than I actually was. The shorts were short, but they made my legs look longer and less chunky.

  I sighed, this outfit made me happy. I looked slim, borderline athletic, but the tragedy was I would never wear it outside. I didn’t have the guts to wear shorts that short and a shirt that tight in public. This outfit would stay in this room.

  It was just for me.

  Even my family wouldn’t see it entirely. If I had to leave my room for any reason, I’d grab one of dad’s old university hoodies that fell almost to my knees. Dad was about 6’4 and although his sweaters usually fell to his waist, on anyone else in our family it looked more like a dress instead.

  I glanced at the alarm clock beside my bed. It was only 3:00. Four hours until dinnertime, four hours that I had to entertain myself in this room because I just didn’t have it in me to leave and begin the interrogation again.

  The fight in me was gone.

  All gone.

  I just wanted to be left alone.

  For the next hour, I listened to my iPod shout songs about moving away, going away, escaping, life beginning, and love happening. I stared at my blank ceiling and imagined scenes play out as if it were my own personal movie theatre.

  Today’s movie was a new one, although it started like all the others. A skinny version of myself, wearing a beautiful dress. But then it changed. I was on a balcony and he was climbing up over the side. James stood in front of me, leaning in to kiss me for the second time.

  “You’re beautiful,” He whispered into my ear, his hug engulfing me. “You’re perfect.”

  My arms circled his shoulders and he lifted me up. He twirled me around like he’d never been so happy in his life.

  I grinned like a fool as I imagined the scenario.

  Yeah, that’s a nice one.

  CHAPTER 4

  Beep. Beep.

  I turned the volume down on my iPod. I thought I heard something beep.

  I took my earphones out and tossed the iPod across my bed as I stretched to grab my phone off my desk, without leaving the bed.

  New message from: Unknown

  I scrolled down and checked the number. I didn’t recognize it.

  My heart began to palpitate. Panic flowed inside me, exciting every nerve ending in my body to a point where my palms became sweaty and my knees felt weak. Normally I’d only get texts from Jenna, but her number was on my contacts list.

  Could it be…? No…

  I took a deep breath and opened the message.

  Unknown: Fireball, is it you?

  Fireball!

  Oh my God!

  The tips of my fingers moved without notice. I’d gone to heaven and the euphoric state that met me there cast a spell on my brain, detaching it from my body – I was floating high in the sky.

  Annabelle: Tiger?

  This was a beautiful moment.

  Truly.

  A breathtaking love song begins to play in my subconscious. In my mind, everything in my room changes color, turning shades of red. My things levitated. I floated up and danced around them.

  That’s how I felt right now.

  Puppies and rainbows!

  I grinned widely, a fool’s smile, as I pressed ‘Send’. Two seconds later when I heard my phone beep, my face felt as if it could break in half. Happiness blossomed, it escaped from the steel trap I had locked away deep in my heart, the heart I had to lock away because my family was always trying to break it for their own self-righteous purposes. The time of their selfish ways was officially over

  Unknown: Yeah, baby, it’s me.

  ‘Baby!’

  I could die!

  I went to my contacts and changed ‘unknown’ to ‘Tiger.’ It just seemed to fit and I had a feeling I was known as ‘Fireball’ in his contacts.

  Annabelle: Do you have me as Fireball in your contacts?

  Tiger: You’re sweet, you know that. Yes. You happy with that?

  I’m sweet?

  I didn’t know that!

  My fingertips moved across the keypad quickly as I texted back.

  Annabelle: Of course! It kinda grew on me.

  Pure elation.

  The clouds parted and the sun came out shining.

  All for me.

  Tiger: When u work next?

  If I could have jumped up and down on my bed, I would have. I would have shouted at the top of my lungs, announcing to everyone who was unhappy and depressed that it was all going to be okay, that they just had to tough it out for a little longer. Happiness was always on its way, especially for those who deserved it.

  And I definitely deserved it.

  Annabelle: Tomorrow. Same time, same place.

  My phone beeped. Was it just me or were his texts coming back with lightning speed?

  Tiger: Cool. See u tomorrow.

  No matter how excited I was – mixed with desperation – I couldn’t show how much I loved texting him, even though we’d barely discussed anything (like where he went after I came back from break?). I wasn’t about to scare him off with my enthusiasm. I had to finish the conversation with something short and simple.

  Annabelle: Cool.

  I exited the messages.

  Cool! It was the word of the moment.

  It was a diagnosis, a piece of medicine that threw me over the wall that had always screamed ‘life is unfair!’

  Had I been stumbling all this time? Had I just been crashing, failing, never getting what this life thing was all about?

  And there wasn’t even a kiss!

  My head hit the pillow, my fingertips trailing across my lips. In my head I replaced them with his and the thought made my entire body convulse unnaturally. The feeling was brand new. I’d never gotten this far in speaking with a boy. The possibilities of what may come were foreign and my body, mind, and soul welcomed these aliens with open arms.

  Geez! What if he had actually kissed me?

  I would have crumbled to the ground, hoping he’d touch me again. My body could only take so much of his generously heated embraces. I would simply faint with the image of him giving me the greatest gift of all.

  Calm down!

  I giggled like a mad woman and shook my head in disbelief. A few short text messages and I was already acting like a love-crazy fool. What would happen if things actually progressed into a relationship?

  Stalker psycho!

  Oh God no!

  I burst out laughing and gazed up at the blank ceiling. Sometimes I wished my parents would have let me paint mine just like Jenna’s, but at this moment the empty ceiling served as a blank slate on which I would paint with my newly-spiked imagination.

  *~*~*

  Knock. Knock.

  “It’s open,” I called out happily, my hands behind my head as I continued to stare at the ceiling. I was in the middle of a wonderful story on my ceiling. It was just getting good.

  Charles, my thirteen-year-old brother, came barging in. “Dinner’s ready!” He turned right back around and left, leaving the door wide open.

  Dinner’s ready! Am I even hungry? I thought as I got off my bed and headed out. My stomach began to grumble loudly, apparently I was hungry. And like a crash of lightning blowing up the tree that gave me life, it all came back.

  Mom!

  She wasn’t happy with my calorie burn today and I didn�
��t burn those extra fifty she’d wanted when I came home. I would have to brace myself for a battle during dinner tonight.

  As I descended the stairs, I smelled tomato sauce and garlic bread. They had made pasta, my favorite!

  I paused mid-step.

  They’re so evil!

  The chances that I’d be getting almost none of one of my favorite meals were extremely high. Strangely, I was handling this realization differently than usual. I was happy, and I knew if this had happened yesterday I would have been devastated.

  So I won’t get to eat a plate full of my favorite meal. So what!

  Yeah, so what, I thought as I continued down the stairs and into the dining room. I stopped in front of the table at my usual seat, stunned. Mine was the only plate with just salad on it.

  Gee, thanks Mom, I know I can always count on you.

  I smiled at her, although I knew it didn’t reach my eyes. Oblivious as she was, she smiled back genuinely. The woman believed with all her heart that she was doing her rightful duty as a mother, keeping the evil words of the teenage world from tearing up my soul because I was bigger than my average classmate.

  Damn you Florida and your perfect weather making everyone want to have gorgeous beach bodies all year long!

  I quietly sat in my chair and stabbed a piece of lettuce with my fork.

  “Oh joy,” I muttered, tasting the balsamic vinegar dressing.

  *~*~*

  If I went to bed with a stomach full of salad, my parents would have been happy. My brother and sister didn’t give a crap, they only joined in on raining on my parade when it was a family affair. They liked doing things ‘as a family’, it was kind of understandable, in a sadistic sort of way.

  But salad wasn’t enough to satisfy my stomach entirely, nor did it stop the pains stabbing through me while I was trying to sleep.

  Salad wasn’t enough.

  So it was the usual routine. Wait for everyone to go to sleep, then take out my secret stash of candy bars and chips from beneath my bed frame.