A Proscriptive Relationship

by Jordan Lynde

  Rushing into the kitchen, I immediately went to the oven. There was nothing on the burners, so I opened the oven door. Large clouds of smoke met my face as soon as the door opened. I coughed and stepped back quickly, trying to wave the smoke away. I located the oven dial and turned it off, still trying to clear the smoke around me. After a few moments I opened the oven again, peering in. Small, black, burnt mounds of . . . something were sitting on a silver tray. I closed the oven door again. I’d deal with those whatever they were later.

  With a glass of water in one hand, and two small pills from the bathroom in the other, I returned to Mr. Heywood’s bedroom. He was now sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands holding his head. I cleared my throat quietly and he looked up at me.

  “Here,” I said, holding the glass of water out to him.

  “My hands are shaking too hard to hold the glass,” he responded. “How about you pass it to me by mouth?”

  I stared at him in shock, feeling heat creep across my face again. Then he started laughing and he took the glass away from me while I turned my head to the side.

  “Holly, it’s no fun if you’re not looking at me when you blush.”

  “M-Mr. Heywood, I think—”

  “Chris,” he corrected me.

  For a moment I stayed quiet, looking at him wonderingly. It had been forever since he had corrected me. It felt nostalgic. A smile crept onto my mouth, and I shook my head. “Um, Chris, I think you should rest for a while . . .”

  “I’m hungry,” he complained. “I want to eat first.”

  “I’ll make you something,” I offered, excited by the idea of being able to cook something for him while he was in need.

  His facial expression told me he wasn’t sure if he wanted me to cook him something. “I think I’m—”

  “I can cook,” I told him, a little resentfully. “Just because some of us aren’t professional like you, doesn’t mean we can’t cook.”

  He grinned and laughed quietly. “Okay. There’s some can soup in the cabinet. You can handle that, right?”

  “Yes,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Well, get to it.”

  With a roll of my eyes, I exited the bedroom and headed for the kitchen again. A scowl appeared on my face as I huffed. Mr. Heywood really needed to stop teasing me. A part of me told me that was one way of how he showed he cared, but I tossed that thought away. He still was a jerk. But, he was a jerk I loved. How cliché.

  As I passed the living room, a sharp ringing came from the coach. Peering in, I spotted Mr. Heywood’s cell phone on the table in front of the couch. I grabbed the phone and looked at it, wondering if I should bring it to him. My heart skipped a beat when I realized Jeremy was calling. After a second of hesitation, I hit the talk button and put the phone to my ear.

  “Chris, you finally decided to pick up. Do you know how many times I tried calling—never mind. Did you find Holly? Is she okay? What happened with Shawn?”

  “Um, it’s me.”

  There was a silence on the other side of the line, and then I heard a deep sigh. “Holly.”

  “Jeremy.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay,” I told him, chewing my lip. “Are you?”

  He laughed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Oh, um, I don’t know,” I responded, smiling sheepishly.

  “Holly, I’m sorry about last night,” Jeremy apologized, making my eyes widen in surprise.

  “What?”

  “I said I’m sorry—”

  “No, I heard you,” I said, cutting him off. “But what are you apologizing for? Don’t! You didn’t do anything wrong. It was as you said; I was just being overdramatic. I should be the one apologizing for snapping at you! I’m also sorry I called you a liar and—”

  “Holly, breathe,” he ordered with a laugh. “It’s fine, I understand. You were just stressed out yesterday. I didn’t take anything seriously.”

  “I’m still sorry . . .”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said easily. “I’m guessing things are okay now?” he asked, changing the subject.

  I cleared my throat, glancing at the ground in embarrassment. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Where’s Chris?”

  “In his bedroom. He has a fever.”

  Jeremy laughed. “Well that’s what he gets for running around in the rain.”

  “Jeremy, I really don’t know anything about helping sick people,” I said honestly. “Do you think maybe . . . you could come over and help me out?”

  He was quiet for a minute. “Well, I guess.”

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to . . .”

  “No, I don’t mind,” he assured me. “I just thought you’d like the alone time with Chris.”

  A blush made its way onto my face again. “I don’t . . . it’s not . . . I mean I d-don’t . . .”

  Jeremy laughed again. “Holly, you’re too cute.”

  “Shut up,” I snapped, glaring at the wall.

  “I’ll be over in about twenty minutes.”

  “Okay, I’m going to make Mr. Heywood some soup.”

  “Behave,” Jeremy responded in a singsong voice before I heard the click of the line hanging up.

  I scowled, bringing the phone away from my ear to shut it, but something on the background caught my attention. It was the picture of Mr. Heywood pretending to kiss me. I stared at it in shock. Why was this his phone background? It was so embarrassing. I couldn’t leave it like this. I made a stupid face and took a new picture, replacing the old background with the new one.

  I tossed the phone on the couch, still flustered. Why would he have that as his background? Suddenly it hit me. Jeremy’s words rang through my head: if you ever get the chance, look at his cell phone. It made sense now. But was it because . . .?

  I shook my head. No, I couldn’t afford to assume things, and I wasn’t going to ask him about it. I made my way back to the kitchen to heat up his soup. It was the canned kind, so it only took about five minutes. When it was ready I returned to the bedroom.

  “Mr. Heywood?” I said, going over to him. “Mr. Heywood? Are you sleeping?”

  When he didn’t answer, I frowned. How could he have fallen asleep so quickly? I squatted by the bed, peering at him for a moment. How could someone be as handsome as him? Sighing, I reached over and shook him. He could sleep after he ate his soup.

  “Wake up,” I said loudly. “Chris.”

  He groaned, pushing my hand away. I laughed slightly at his action. “Get up. Your soup is done.”

  “Ms. Evers?” he said sleepily, gazing at me through half-open eyelids.

  My eyebrows furrowed slightly. Why did he call me Ms. Evers? I shrugged it off, frowning at him. “It’s me, Mr. Heywood. Your soup—”

  The rest of what I was going to say was cut off when he suddenly brought his hand to the back of my head, forcing it down.

  And then our lips made contact.

  My eyes flew wide open as his lips pressed against mine softly. It took me a second to realize what was happening. Then I immediately I pulled away, blushing furiously. He gazed at me for another moment before closing his eyes again and dozing off without another word.

  I straightened myself and staggered a few steps away from the bed. My thoughts raced frantically, as did the beating of my heart. What the hell? He’d kissed me!

  “Holly? You in here?”

  A startled gasp escaped my lips as I twisted to see Jeremy looking at me curiously. He had gotten here quickly.

  “What’s up? You look red.”

  Thinking quickly, I supplied “Um . . . I, um, I think I might be getting sick too.” Thank god Jeremy hadn’t shown up a minute earlier. “In fact, I feel a little dizzy.”

  “Not good,” he responded, coming over with a frown on his face. He placed a hand on my hot forehead and his frown deepened. “You are hot . . . I think it’d be best if you left this room.”

  I couldn’t agree more. I nodded
my head, hoping to get away just in case Mr. Heywood woke up again. “I’ll go rest on the couch.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll check on Chris.”

  I exited the room without another word, my heart still pounding. What was going on? What was Mr. Heywood thinking? Wasn’t he the one who told me not to confess until I was eighteen? Why had he suddenly kissed me? I thought the burning of my face was never going away.

  The worst thing about the kiss though was definitely how much I liked it.

  LESSON twenty-nine

  Half an hour later, I wasn’t embarrassed anymore. I was annoyed.

  Jeremy sat beside me on the couch and he had been laughing for the last minute straight. I had told him everything. Now I fought the urge to punch him. Finally enough was enough and I swiftly brought a clenched fist to his shoulder as hard as I could. He winced, his laughter ceasing immediately. “Ow. What was that for?”

  “For laughing so much! It’s not that funny!”

  A smirk appeared on Jeremy’s face and it looked like he was holding in more laughter. I narrowed my eyes at him threateningly.

  “First, if you’re trying to look threateningly, it isn’t working,” he responded, his smirk growing wider. “You look cute. Like an angry kitten. Second, it is funny. Holly, the way you blurted out your feelings was so you.”

  “How is it so me?” I asked, fighting the blush that was trying to appear on my face. “It was an accident! Only idiots blurt out confessions like that . . .”

  “Confession?”

  “I confessed my love for him.”

  “Oh, well . . .”

  “If you’re going to say I’m an idiot, I already know,” I snapped at Jeremy. “Only I could ruin something as important as that.”

  Jeremy sighed. “I wasn’t going to say that.”

  “But it’s true!”

  “Holly, you didn’t ruin it,” Jeremy told me, reaching over and squeezing my leg hard. “Trust me.”

  I winced in pain, immediately trying to pull his hand off me. “Ow!”

  Jeremy let go immediately, giving me a sheepish grin. “Ah, sorry. But like I said, you didn’t ruin your confession.”

  “How is that not ruining it? I didn’t mean to say it!”

  “That’s precisely why you didn’t ruin it,” Jeremy told me, a grin spreading across his face. “It’s so you, Holly.”

  “Is that supposed to be a diss?” I asked, frowning at him.

  “Not at all! Holly, it’s cute, and probably not what Chris was expecting, which just makes it better. I’m sure he had a hard time trying to control himself after that. The only thing that I can think of that could have made it better, would be you crying in embarrassment afterwards, which I could see you doing,” Jeremy told me, a brief laugh leaving his lips.

  A blush made its way onto my face, and I looked at the ground. Jeremy knew me too well.

  “You did, didn’t you?”

  My gaze shifted to Jeremy and I narrowed my eyes. “No.”

  “You so did!” Jeremy cried, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “Your face tells it all! Oh, Holly, you’re too funny.”

  I glared at him. “How am I funny? What was I supposed to do? Laugh because I just ruined my chances of a romantic confession worthy of the movies?”

  Jeremy put his hand over my mouth, silencing me. “Holly, trust me, I’m sure your confession was way better than any movie confession. There’s nothing to be upset over. I’m sure Chris loves how you did it your own way. You did it your own way by accident.”

  Pulling Jeremy’s hand away, I shook my head. “No. That’s why he wants me to confess again.”

  “No, he wants you to confess again so he doesn’t feel like a pedophile when he accepts it,” Jeremy assured me. “Why do you doubt yourself so much?”

  Did I doubt myself? I knew I did. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. Why did I doubt myself? Suddenly, a list of reasons ran through my mind. “I’m always a damsel in distress, I cry easily, I’m clumsy, I—”

  “Holly, you’re listing all the good things about you,” Jeremy cut me off before I could continue.

  “How are those good?”

  Jeremy smiled mischievously. “They just are.”

  “Because I’m—”

  Without any warning, Jeremy slapped his hands to my cheeks. Hard. The sound seemed to echo as my cheeks burned from his hit. I stared at him in shock while he looked back with hard eyes.

  “Holly Evers,” he started in a serious voice. “Stop doubting yourself! It’s not an attractive trait. I’m going to tell you what I told Chris. While you doubt yourself, Chris probably doubts himself as well. If you have doubts, go to him, and while you’re there make sure you tell him what you like about him and have him tell you his doubts. You two will get nowhere if you both have attitudes like this!”

  Mr. Heywood had doubts too? And Jeremy and Mr. Heywood talked about me? I tried to respond, but Jeremy’s hands muffled my voice. Jeremy shook his head at me, putting more pressure on my cheeks.

  “I’m not done. Think back to any time when Chris might have mentioned something about you. Or said something about your personality,” he commanded, his green eyes piercing into mine.

  For a moment I was entranced by their color, but I quickly snapped out of it when they narrowed. Mr. Heywood had never said he liked something about me, had he? I wracked my brain.

  My eyes widened in realization. The other night when he had been describing the differences in my personality from the other Holly’s! But no, those couldn’t be the things he liked about me. They were all traits no one likes . . .

  “From your face, I do believe you’ve thought of something,” Jeremy commented, pulling his hands away. “Tell me.”

  “Well the other night he was telling me how different I was from the other Holly . . . and he mentioned how I cry easily, get embarrassed easily, am clumsy, and all those other things.”

  “Aha!”

  “But those are—

  “Here you go with the doubt again.”

  “Jeremy, you just don’t understand a girl’s heart,” I pointed out. “It’s a stew of emotions.”

  “If you really doubt yourself, talk to Chris,” Jeremy told me. “All those traits you think are so bad are actually really endearing, trust me.”

  I began to believe Jeremy—those traits really were endearing, and part of what Mr. Heywood liked about me. A small smile spread to my face, and it ended up spreading to Jeremy’s face as well.

  “See? It’s better when you think of it this way.”

  “He never responded to my confession though,” I told him. “He just told me to tell him again. He could still reject me.”

  “Oh, please,” Jeremy laughed, rolling his eyes. “Do you really believe that?”

  “Well, you never know.”

  Suddenly Jeremy’s eyes lit up. “Holly, I have the greatest idea.”

  “Should I be afraid?”

  “Nope. I think you’ll like it.”

  “Let’s hear it then,” I told him, now intrigued.

  “So Chris asked you to confess a second time, right?” Jeremy started, looking eager. “So he’s probably expecting you to do it on your birthday.”

  “And I am.”

  “Well, don’t!”

  I looked at Jeremy in surprise. “Why not?” Wasn’t he always the one trying to get Mr. Heywood and I together? Why the sudden change in attitude?

  “Make him confess to you,” Jeremy said, a smirk appearing on his face.

  I stared at him while his words sank in. Make Mr. Heywood confess to me? I found it highly doubtful that even if Mr. Heywood had feelings for me, he’d confess before I did a second time.

  Jeremy looked at me meaningfully while I debated. It would save me the trouble of trying to think of a way to confess a second time. It was pretty unfair that I’d have to confess twice. It was his turn. And even if Mr. Heywood didn’t initiate it, I could still do it afterwards. I waited three months to tell him I loved h
im the first time, I could wait a week or two more to say it again. A smirk slowly spread onto my lips.

  “I take it you like the idea?” Jeremy asked.

  I nodded. “I think it’s fair. After all, who asks a person to confess a second time? It’s so embarrassing.”

  “If he doesn’t confess in a few weeks, are you going to again?”

  I blushed slightly, looking down at the floor. “Um, well . . . yes.”

  Jeremy laughed, and I felt him messing with my hair. “I’m brilliant, aren’t I?”

  I grabbed Jeremy’s hand from my head and pulled it away, but didn’t let go. Jeremy looked at me curiously. I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

  “Um, I just wanted to say thank you,” I said quickly, squeezing his hand. “Jeremy, you are really good at voicing my doubts and making me feel better. You know me too well, actually. But it’s a good thing, I guess. So thank you.”

  “Silly girl,” Jeremy responded, pulling his hand free of my hand so he could be the one holding onto it. “There’s no need to thank me. I make you feel better because I want to. And because Chris is my best friend. When I found out he had an interest in you I made it my duty to make sure things worked out. It was just surprising that he found a girl who looks exactly like my cousin.”

  An image of Holly Pierce in her hospital bed flashed through my mind. And then what Shawn had said. At least you’re the right Holly this time. A frown appeared on my face. I was becoming more sure that Holly wasn’t mugged, but attacked by Shawn. But Mr. Heywood had said Holly didn’t recognize her assailants. He didn’t know that it was actually Shawn who attacked . . . I wanted to talk to Holly Pierce. No, I had to talk to her. I needed to know for sure. Butterflies erupted in my stomach and I shifted uncomfortably. For some reason, I didn’t like the thought of going to see her .

  “Holly, are you doubting again?”

  Breaking out of my reverie, I looked up at Jeremy in surprise. “No, why?”

  “You have that look to your face. What are you thinking about?”