She ate a bowl of sugared cereal before she got dressed. Jeans and a sweater. The weather had turned cool again. She stared at herself in the mirror. Maybe a little makeup would help. A bit of eyeliner and some mascara didn’t seem to make a difference. Still plain Jane.
She slid onto the couch and flipped on the television. Scanning through the channels she finally settled on an old Lindsay Lohan movie. Before long Andrew came down the stairs in his worn Superman pajamas that were a size too small for him.
“Hey, I was going to watch TV.”
Maybe it was the way he whined at her, or the fact that she didn’t know what to expect with Lance today, but whatever it was, annoyance got the better of her. “Who’s stopping you?”
Andrew screwed up his face in disgust. “I don’t want to watch some girly show.”
“Then go away.” Even to her own ears the words sounded mean. She was about to say she was sorry when Andrew hollered.
“Mom!”
“Settle down, dork. You can watch whatever you want.” She tossed the remote on the seat and went into her room. A twinge of guilt surged for picking a fight with Andrew, but she didn’t go back and smooth things over. Instead, she plugged in her earphones and turned up the volume on her MP3 player. She hopped onto her bed and lay on her stomach, putting her chin on her fist, listing to the Ryan Cabrera song on repeat.
She must have dozed off because she awoke to Andrew shaking her shoulder. “Jane, wake up.”
She pulled her ear buds out. “What?”
“Lance is here.”
“Oh, thanks.” She stood, and then turned to Andrew. “Sorry about calling you a dork earlier.”
He eyed her suspiciously. “Okay.”
When she walked into the family room Lance stood. “Hey, Jane.”
He was wearing an outfit they had picked out at the mall, an expensive pair of jeans, a two layered shirt that looked like someone had slashed a knife across it several times, and the black leather jacket.
“Hi.”
Lance shifted his weight. “Um, I was thinking we could go out today. You up for it?”
“Where do you want to go?”
Lance got a funny look on his face, but she couldn’t read it. “I thought maybe you’d help me practice my dating etiquette. You know…for Tiffany.”
Right. Of course he would want to make sure he was acting perfect for Tiffany. She felt like slapping him upside the head, but instead she plastered a smile on her face. At least she could spend time with him. “Sure.”
He took her hand and warmth spread up her arm. “Come on, I’ve got a great day planned.”
***
Jane glanced out the car window at the mall. “More shopping?”
“Nope.”
His grin was contagious. Jane found herself forgetting about Tiffany and enjoying the moment. Lance opened her door for her and held her hand as they walked to the entrance. She could get used to this hand holding thing. Her heart did this little excited jumpy dance.
They walked through the mall and Lance stopped in front of the GlowGolf center. “You do still like miniature golf, don’t you?”
“I love it! And I’ve always wanted to come here.”
He opened the glass door and they walked into the dark entrance. Black lights hung low from the ceiling, giving their skin a strange ghostly appearance. Neon green and blue stripes on the floor illuminated the path to the front desk.
There weren’t too many people golfing so they were able to get right on the course. The floor looked like a crazy glowing maze with several moving obstacles for golfers to putt through.
Lance handed her a purple ball that glowed under the black lights. “Your favorite color.”
“Thanks.”
Lance swept his arm out. “Ladies first.”
She put the ball on the mark and practiced her aim. On the third swing she let the club connect with the ball and it rolled, bounced off the wall and continued until it was two inches from the hole.
Lance made a whistling noise. “You’re going to be hard to beat.”
“You’d better believe it.”
They continued taking turns around the course. Every once in a while Lance would touch her arm or glance at her in a way that would make her knees weak. On the ninth hole she made a particularly difficult shot and got a hole-in-one. Lance let out a whoop, picked her up and twirled her in a circle. After he set her back down, he didn’t let go. “Nice one,” he said, then gave her a quick peck on the lips.
Her mouth fell open. Did that just happen?
He leaned close. “Don’t look so shocked. You’re the one that said I needed practice,” he whispered, his breath tickling her cheek.
Oh. Right. Tiffany. Disappointment crashed down on her. She had a sudden urge to hurt him. “And you do. That was pathetic.”
But it wasn’t hurt that shone in his eyes, it was amusement. “Too quick?”
“Yes. You need to give a girl time to savor the moment.”
He cupped the sides of her face with his hands and tilted her chin up. “You mean, like this?” His lips brushed hers, sending shivers through her. Then his lips were moving against hers, warm and soft. She returned the kiss, closing her eyes and getting lost in the sensations. When they broke apart a wide smile spread across Lance’s face.
“Any better?”
Jane didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded. If he improved any more, she’d have to ask him to drive her to the hospital. She was surprised her legs still worked when he tugged her over a small bridge to the next part of the course.
She tried her best to get another hole-in-one but was unsuccessful. She did end up beating him, though.
“You’d think a girl would go easy on a guy,” he said playfully. “What if my manly pride was hurt?”
“Then you’re not the guy for me.” Jane handed her club to the kid behind the counter.
Lance’s face fell serious. “Who is the guy for you?”
What kind of a question was that? She peered at him, trying to figure out what his game was. His face didn’t reveal anything. She felt like saying, ‘You are, you dork, but you’re in love with someone else,’ but somehow she didn’t think that would be a good idea. Finally she decided to play dumb. “I’ll let you know when I find him.”
They left the golf place and stepped into the brightness of the mall. Lance’s hand once again found hers. It felt comfortable, like slipping into an old pair of shoes. If only he knew what he was doing to her heart.
“You hungry?”
The mention of food made her mouth water. “Yes.”
“Do you want to eat in the food court here, or go somewhere else?”
The smells from the food court converted her. “Let’s eat here.”
They chose the Chinese place and joined the end of the line. Lance rubbed the side of her hand with his thumb, almost absentmindedly, which made it hard to think. “How are you going to ask Tiffany to the prom?” she asked, and then mentally kicked herself. Why did she say that? What was wrong with her? Tiffany was the last person she wanted Lance to think about.
He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Don’t most guys just ask?”
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. It didn’t work. The words kept coming. “No. You can’t blurt it out. You have to find a creative way to ask her.”
He appeared thoughtful. “Like how?”
It was too late. She had to keep talking now. “Last year Sheila got a dozen roses delivered to her house with a note asking her to prom.”
“Hmm. That’s sweet.”
“And Aaron stood outside of Jessica’s window, holding up a boom box like in that one movie.”
A smile tugged at his lips.
“Then there’s Tammy who got a puzzle mailed to her, one piece at a time.”
He laughed. “I think I’m getting the picture.”
“Good. Because if you want her to say yes, you’ll want to be smooth about it.” Why was her m
outh still moving?
Lance nodded and stuffed his free hand into his jacket pocket, rocking back on his heels. “How do you think I should ask her?”
Super. Now he’s asking her advice on it. “I think a girl like Tiffany would be impressed with flowers.”
“Simple, but nice.” He studied her face. “What about you? If a guy were to ask you to prom, what would impress you?”
“Me?” The question surprised her, and she was caught off guard. “I don’t know. Something private. I wouldn’t like a billboard or anything embarrassing. And I’m not really a flower kind of girl.”
“Well,” he said, rubbing his chin. “I don’t envy the guy who wants to ask you to prom.”
A chuckle bubbled up. The thought of anyone wanting to take her to prom was absurd. “Yeah. Poor guy.”
They ordered their food and wandered through the crowd to find a table. She set her tray down and slid into the chair. “I love sweet and sour pork.”
Lance suppressed a smile, and she wondered what that was about. When they were done eating Lance slid a fortune cookie to her. “Okay, time to find out your fortune.”
“My favorite part of eating Chinese.” She cracked open the cookie and slid the paper out. “Expect the unexpected.” She flipped the paper over. Blank. “That’s it? What a dumb fortune. How can someone expect the unexpected? That’s why it’s unexpected.” She tossed it on the table in disgust. Lance’s shoulders shook with laughter.
“What?” She popped a piece of fortune cookie in her mouth.
He waved his hand. “Nothing. You just crack me up.” He took the wadded up napkins and tossed them onto his tray. “You ready to go?”
“Yep. Uh, where are we going now?”
Lance slid her tray under his and took them to the trash. Then he took her hand again, sending goose pimples up her arm. “You’ll see.”
They left the mall, the cool air feeling good on her warm face. Lance opened the car door for her again.
“You’re getting good at this gentleman thing.”
“Thanks.”
Jane watched him walk around the car to the driver’s side. The clothes they bought looked good on him. A little too good, in fact. She turned away.
She didn’t look at him again until they pulled in front of a building with a sign that said Pottery Palace.
“What’s this?”
He grinned and his eyes shone. “Let’s go in, I think you’ll like it.”
When they entered Jane could smell the earthy scent of baking clay. Shelving lined the entire right wall, filled with a large assortment of clay pots, vases, mugs, figurines and plates, all light gray. The rest of the room was filled with square tables where people were painting pottery. A woman clad in a blue apron came up to them. “Welcome to Pottery Palace. Have you been here before?”
“No, we haven’t,” Lance said.
“Well, here are the pottery pieces. Choose which one you’d like to paint. The prices are on the shelf. You can take it to any table you’d like. The paints are on the other wall, just take what you’d like to your table. We’ve also got sponges, stencils and foam stamps. When you’re done, set it on that back table. We’ll dip it in a clear glaze and fire it for you. You’ll have to come back to get it, but we usually have them done in a few days. Any questions?”
Lance shook his head and then looked at Jane.
“No.” She examined the large wall of pottery. “Wow, this is cool. How did you know about this place?”
“I’m a computer nerd, remember? I’m a master Googler.”
Jane smiled and picked out a decorative plate. It was heavier than it looked. “This is what I want to paint.”
“I think I’ll do a mug.”
They picked out some paint and sat down. Jane studied Lance’s face. Why did he bring her here? It wasn’t like Tiffany would be into something crafty like this. She looked like the type that would be more into doing her nails and gossiping.
Lance caught her staring at him. “What?”
“Just wondering…why pottery? It’s not like Tiffany would be impressed with this place.”
Lance shrugged and stared at his mug for a minute before lifting his gaze to meet hers. “I’m practicing on you, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
Painting the clay was relaxing to Jane. There was something soothing about swirling the brush into the paint and gliding it over the surface of the pottery. When she glanced up she saw Lance concentrating so hard that the tip of his tongue stuck out. She giggled.
A bit of pink flushed his cheeks. “I’m creating a masterpiece.”
“What are you painting?” His mug was black with a few gray blobs on it.
“This is the death star, and here are some x-wing fighters.”
A pang of sadness tugged at her. “Starting your Star Wars collection again?”
“Not really. Just thought it would be fun. What about you? What’re you doing?”
She looked down at hers. “I guess I’m just going with my mood.” Purple, blue and yellow flourishes filled the plate.
“I like it.”
This pleased her for some reason. “Thanks.”
They finished and took their pottery to the back for firing. They were given tickets for claiming their pieces later in the week. Lance paid for the pottery and then held the door for her.
The sun had gone down and the chilly night air went right through her sweater. She rubbed her arms.
Lance slid his jacket off. “Here, put this on.”
“No, you’ll freeze.”
He put the jacket on her shoulders anyway. “Come on, you’re not making it easy for me to practice being the gentleman here.”
She wanted to tell him he was doing just fine and probably didn’t need any more practice, but that would have been stupid. She was enjoying the time with him. So she slipped her arms into his jacket and breathed in the smell of him mixed with the leather.
Lance drove to her house and pulled into the driveway. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. This was the end of the date.
Her mouth went dry as he opened her car door and held out his hand for her. They walked up the steps and then he turned to her. “Thank you for going out with me today. I had a wonderful time.”
Did he mean it, or was he still practicing what he would say to Tiffany? She wasn’t sure, but she felt like she had to say something. “I did too.”
“Do you want to go out again? Next weekend?”
Heck yes. “Okay.”
He brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek. His other hand reached around her waist and pulled her close. This was it. He was going to kiss her again. She closed her eyes and felt his lips on hers. The kiss took her breath away.
“Goodnight,” he whispered, and then he was gone. She opened her eyes to watch him get into his car and drive away.
***
Jane opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling as the morning light streamed in her window. Next weekend. How could she wait a whole week to see Lance again? Her stomach felt heavy. Of course she’d see him at school, but just in passing. That wouldn’t cut it anymore. Not after yesterday. She missed the warmth of his hand, the sound of his voice and the way his eyes sparkled when he smiled. Maybe she could call him and ask for more help with her geometry.
Then she saw his black leather jacket hanging on the back of her computer chair. Perfect. She could walk over to his house with the excuse that she was returning his jacket. She got dressed, scarfed down some breakfast, and hollered to her mother that she’d be back later.
The short walk to Lance’s house seemed to take forever. Maybe it was because her steps got progressively slower as she approached. What if he wasn’t home? What if he was home but didn’t invite her in?
She stood in front of his house clutching the jacket. Time for a deep breath. Just do it. She stepped up the stairs and pressed the doorbell. She heard movement from inside the house. Then Lance opened the door. He grinned when
he saw her. “Hey, Janie.”
There it was. That smile. She could die happy now. She held up his jacket. “I forgot to give this back to you yesterday.”
“Oh. Thanks.” The moment turned awkward as he stared at her standing on his stoop. Then he did a quick glance behind him. “Do you want to come in?”
“Sure.”
When she stepped into the house, Lance’s father looked up from the Sunday morning paper he was reading in his easy chair. “Hi, Jane.”
“Hello.” There was no sign of his mother anywhere.
Lance hung up his jacket then put his hand on her back. “Do you want to watch TV or something?”
“That sounds good to me.” He could ask her if she wanted to walk on nails and she’d agree as long as she was with him.
They walked down the hall to the family room. Lance turned to her. “My mom isn’t feeling too well,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry.” She twisted her hands. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I just wanted to give you a heads up. She’ll probably spend the day in bed.”
They sat down and Lance picked up the remote control. “Did you get your geometry homework done?”
“Yes.”
A small smile snuck onto his face. “Good.” He clicked through the channels until they found a Monk marathon.
Jane picked a piece of invisible lint from her jeans. “Is your mom going to be okay?”
Lance’s face grew serious. “I don’t know.”
A helpless feeling overcame her. “Isn’t there medication she can take?”
“She’s been on several different kinds. They help, I think. But she still struggles. She’s not the same person she was.” His voice was quiet, even though they were on the opposite end of the house from his mother’s room.
“I wish there was something we could do.”
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “Me too.” He kissed the top of her head. She leaned into him and they spent the rest of the afternoon curled up on the sofa.
The Practice Date - (Young Adult Romance) Page 3
