What If

by Shirley Anne Edwards

  With a few more leg-numbing pumps, I met him at the top of the hill where we always ended. I thought of it as Pete’s hill. He loved to zoom down with his arms in the air, screaming at the top of his lungs.

  “I love this view. Don’t you?” he asked.

  We were at the highest point in the park where we could see the playground and the track and field. It was nice to soak in the scene.

  “Yeah, it is. But can we hurry? My legs are ready to fall off, and I feel like I’m going to pass out in this heat.” I checked my arm and frowned. I was peeling from my sunburn. How gross!

  He rolled his eyes and tightened the strap on his helmet. “You know you love the exercise.”

  “Right. As much as I love homework.” I wiped away the flaking skin from my shoulder.

  He patted me on my helmeted head and, with a yell, biked down the hill. I didn’t know how he did it, but he could keep control of his bike without holding the handlebars. I coasted down slowly, clutching the bars with both hands. By the time I reached the bottom, he had spun in circles and done a few wheelies. He came around and got off his bike.

  “One of these days you’ll gun it down the hill.”

  “Let me finish high school first. I don’t want broken legs for the remainder of the year.”

  “Chicken.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him and marched away. He caught up with me, and we made our way home. He gulped down some water from his water bottle then handed it to me to drink from.

  “Want to go see a movie tomorrow night?”

  I had to tell him about Friday night at some point, but I was dreading it. “Please, don’t get upset, but I have plans for Friday. Pam’s having a sleepover with some of the girls from the squad and I’ve been invited.”

  He didn’t seem bent out of shape at all. “Oh? Okay. How about Saturday night? I work until seven. If you want, we can get dinner and go to the movies.”

  “I’m busy on Saturday.”

  He stopped. “Doing what?”

  “Dylan’s hosting a barbeque at his house Saturday afternoon. The whole junior class will be there. That means you’re invited, too. Why don’t you stop by after work?”

  He shielded his eyes from the setting sun. The glare hid his expression.

  “I’m pretty tired after work. Not sure if I’d be up for a party.”

  “But you’re up for dinner and a movie. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  “Maybe for you. I don’t want to end up hearing monkey calls and being harassed outside of school. That’s not my idea of a fun time.” He began to walk away.

  “Maybe if you were more of a sociable guy, you wouldn’t get teased so much.”

  “What you mean is I cramp your style. Why don’t you go off with your other friends, then? Better yet, join the cheerleading squad with Miss Cheerleader U.S.A. while you’re at it. I’ll go to the movies by myself.”

  “What the hell? Are you PMSing or something?” I joked.

  He didn’t even turn around to respond.

  I called for him again, but he wouldn’t stop. I cursed, letting him go. I wasn’t going to follow him. He would return and apologize.

  He turned the corner and didn’t look back. I felt horrible and really didn’t know why. What did I do that made him so angry at me?

  I refused to chase after him. If he thought he would be sleeping with me tonight, he was in for a surprise.

  But he won. I slept alone that night.

  Chapter Eight

  Friday at school was pretty uneventful. Pete acted as if nothing weird had occurred between us. I ended up eating with him and his new buddy, Kyle, at lunch. Afterward, I sat with Pam and her little clique while they talked about the sleepover. When I noticed Dylan standing in the hallway before I went into the cafeteria, he never came over to talk or invited me to his party or to go out with him on a date. He ate with Toby, Anthony, and Conner, along with some other guys, on the opposite side of the room.

  I purposely waited until I came home from school with Pam in tow to tell Mom about the overnight plans. Mom and Pam always got along, and she let me go without any arguing.

  The sleepover was actually a lot of fun. There was a group of six of us, eating pizza, gorging on ice cream, and talking about boys and sex. We didn’t fall asleep until three in the morning. For some reason, I didn’t sleep well. I was wide awake by ten. I needed to see Pete and make sure things were okay between us. He would’ve already started his shift at the supermarket. I would get dressed, go home, grab my bike, and ride into town.

  I’d just finished dressing and brushing my hair when someone knocked on the bathroom door. I opened it, and Pam stood there.

  “Hey.” I threw my hair into a braid. It was getting way too long, falling past my shoulders. I needed a cut and soon.

  “What are you doing up so early? Don’t you usually sleep in?” She yawned and scratched her arm.

  “Yeah, under normal circumstances I would. I don’t sleep well unless I’m in my own bed. I have a few things to take care of before the party tonight.”

  “What? Oh, are you going shopping for a cute outfit to wear for Dylan? Can I come?”

  I cut off a curse. No one said this was supposed to be such a big deal where we had to get dressed up. Why did she want me to hook up with Dylan so badly? It was getting really annoying. “It’s just a barbeque. I’m not going to buy a new outfit. I…I have to go see someone.”

  When I tried to leave, she blocked the doorway. “Why are you so secretive? Who’s so important you have to see this early?”

  “It’s—”

  She perked up “Are you going out with Dylan?”

  “No, it’s Pete.”

  “Wendy.” She rolled her eyes.

  “What? We had a fight, and I have to make things right between us.”

  She backed away and held up her hands. “Whatever. I can’t stop you ‘cause you’ll do want you want anyway. Go. But you better be at the barbeque today. If you’re not, I’ll be pissed.”

  She gave me a pouty face, and I laughed. “I promise. Three o’clock.”

  As we went toward her bedroom, I suddenly remembered she had to tell me something important.

  “Didn’t you have to tell me something?”

  I could’ve sworn her face started turning red. “Nope.”

  “Okay.” I shrugged and went to get my bag. She would eventually tell me what was on her mind. She couldn’t keep a secret from me for too long.

  ***

  I made a quick dash home since Pam’s wasn’t far from mine. I threw my overnight bag upstairs, said a quick hello to Mom, and grabbed my bike and pedaled into the center of town. I didn’t have my driver’s license yet, but I had my permit. Asking Mom for her to drive with me would be too much of a hassle. She wouldn’t understand why I needed to see Pete. I used the only transportation at my disposal—my bike.

  After a twenty-minute ride, I reached the municipal parking lot where I chained my bike and made my way toward the supermarket while I rooted through my bag for some lip gloss.

  Without warning, I knocked into someone. My legs went out from under me, and I almost fell to the ground. Someone swooped me up by the waist and steadied me.

  “I knew there was a good reason for moving to this town. The girls here just fall into your arms.”

  I tried to move out of Dylan’s embrace, but he had a tight grip on my hips. I pushed my hair out of my face. “You can let go now.”

  He tapped the top of my pink-rimmed sunglasses and tilted them down. They slipped off my nose.

  “Cute glasses.” He gave them another tap and finally released me.

  Instead of snubbing him, I’d be nice. “Thanks for catching me. Sorry about bumping into you like that.”

  “No problem. I thought you’d still be at Pam’s house doing your girly thing. Unless, you didn’t go to the sleepover last night? Not that I would think you’d lie to get out of our date.”

  I crossed my arms and looked down my n
ose at him. Not that it did much. He had a good five inches on me. “Why would I lie? I did do the girly thing, wore PJ’s, gossiped, and ate like a pig. You know, all that fun stuff us girls do together.”

  He laughed and scratched the back of his head. His arm flexed, and it took all I had not to stand there with my tongue hanging out. He had some of the best biceps I’d ever seen on a guy.

  “Soooo…what are you doing up early on a Saturday?”

  “Early? I always get up around seven. I work out on some of the exercise equipment in my garage and then do my homework. I needed to buy some extra food and drinks for the party. Now that you’re here, you can help me set up my house.”

  I shook my head in the negative. “Sorry, dude, I have plans.”

  “Dude? That’s cute.” He tugged on my earlobe, and I went to slap him. He moved pretty fast. I ended up swatting air.

  “Didn’t you get all the supplies you needed yet?” I wasn’t going into Williams’ Foods with him. Pete would see us together, and I could only imagine how he’d react.

  “Yup. It’s in my car.”

  “You drive?”

  “Yeah. I turned sixteen back in May.”

  “I’ll be sixteen in January. I have my permit, but my parents don’t seem too thrilled to drive with me even though I had driving lessons, so I ride my bike.”

  Dylan moved in closer and bent down as if he didn’t want anyone to overhear us. Except, there wasn’t anyone around. I found this a bit strange but kept silent.

  “What if I let you drive my brand new silver Mercedes? All you have to do is help me set up for my party.”

  He had such a smug look on his face. Driving a Mercedes would be a nice incentive.

  “Hello? I can’t drive. I don’t know what it’s like in New York or California, but here in Connecticut, it’s illegal for me to drive with you since you’ve been driving less than six months.” I started walking, but he strolled backward facing me. Why can’t he just leave me alone?

  “From what I’ve heard, the Brookeside cops aren’t concerned with enforcing the driving laws. It’s less than a ten-minute drive to my house. I can load your bike in the trunk. I have an SUV.” He jangled his keys in front of me.

  My fingers twitched to take the keys from him. They were so shiny and hypnotized me. “What if the cops catch us?”

  “Come on, Wendy, live a little.”

  “I—”

  “What if I said I won’t take no for an answer?”

  I stopped and crossed my arms again. I tried to stare him down. He did the same to me. This guy wasn’t going to give up. I could’ve told him to go screw himself, but then the rumor mill at school would be fierce. I scratched my neck and grimaced. What about Pete?

  I was having an inner battle with my conscience but was interested in seeing where the golden boy lived. Perhaps I could hang out with him and get to know him better. Maybe then I’d change my opinion about him and come to the conclusion he wasn’t such a bad guy.

  “Don’t make me get down on my knees on this hot pavement and beg you.” He began kneeling.

  “God, no! Get up. All right, you win. Can we drop my bike off at my house first?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  He jumped up again, and his white T-shirt rode up showing his tight stomach. Wow, now that’s an impressive six pack. He smiled brightly, and again his dimples made an appearance.

  I swallowed. Those dimples of his could probably make a girl do anything he wanted.

  “My bike’s this way.” I pointed and turned back the way I’d come.

  He stepped up beside me. “Didn’t you have to do something first?”

  “It’s not important.” I’d make sure to call Pete later in the afternoon.

  Dylan’s SUV Mercedes was unlike anything I’d ever been in. The seats were made of soft leather, and it had a new car smell. I wanted to sniff every nook and cranny I could find. I barely stopped myself from sighing as I settled in the driver’s seat. I was so nervous that my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. But Dylan kept me calm with his words of support. We mainly stuck to the side streets instead of the main roads, so we wouldn’t run into any police. After parking in front of my house, he took my bike out of the rear hatch. I grabbed it from him and left it in my backyard. I should’ve told Mom where I was going but didn’t want to introduce her to Dylan and deal with all her questions.

  He didn’t ask to meet my mom or want to go inside and check out my house. He scored brownie points from me. He waited in the passenger seat, and I got in and drove to his house. It took us less than ten minutes, which was a good thing. I almost wet my pants because I was jumpy from driving.

  His house was a brick McMansion with white columns, a long, straight driveway, and the front yard the length of a football field. A fence surrounded his property even though he didn’t have any security. I parked in front of the house carefully. When I shut off the ignition and got out, my legs shook.

  I rubbed my damp face with my hands. “That was a rush,” I exclaimed, even though I drove a speed of twenty five the whole ride there.

  Dylan laughed and popped open the rear hatch. When I went over to help him with the bags, he caught me by surprise and gave me a hug and a quick peck on the mouth. I was stunned speechless by his move.

  I recovered and acted like being kissed by such a cute guy didn’t faze me. He took most of the bags while I grabbed a case of soda. We climbed the front steps, and he pushed open the unlocked door with his shoulder.

  Marble from the floor to the ceiling covered the inside, and in the middle, a long winding staircase led up to the second-story landing. A very different model from my own house. I’d been inside many of these types of houses before, and it didn’t come as much of a shock by the expensive appearance of it all.

  “You have a really nice house.”

  Dylan set the bags on the floor and took the case out of my hands.

  “Thank you. Dylan and I enjoy living here.” An older man with graying hair wandered out from one of the side rooms. He held out his hand. “Hello, I’m James Mayone, Dylan’s dad.”

  I shook it. “Hi, I’m Wendy Wyman.”

  Dylan’s father was very attractive. The hot gene was strong in this family.

  Dylan and his father gave each other hugs. I found their affection surprising.

  “I thought the party didn’t start until three?” Mr. Mayone asked.

  “I’ve recruited Wendy to help me.”

  Mr. Mayone put his hands in his pockets at the same time Dylan did. It was a cute quirk both father and son shared.

  “I still have to pack. We’ll talk before I leave for the train. Wendy, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Hopefully, Dylan will bring you by again and we can talk more in depth.” Mr. Mayone smiled, patted Dylan on the shoulder, and walked up the stairs.

  “Your dad’s nice,” I said when his father was out of sight.

  “He’s the best.”

  “He’s not going to stay for the party and make sure it doesn’t get out of control?” I was surprised adults wouldn’t be around.

  He tapped his fingers on his hips. A defensive look appeared on his face. “My dad trusts me. He spends most of the weekends in Manhattan. He’s dating a woman there.”

  “Oh.” I bit my lip to stop from asking any more pushy questions.

  He grabbed the case of soda, and I took the rest of the bags. I followed him into the kitchen, a wide open, airy room with granite countertops and state-of-the-art appliances. Through the French doors lay a huge backyard that had an incredible in-ground pool surrounded by rocks and a waterfall.

  “My mom would die for your kitchen and my dad for your backyard. He’s obsessed with mowing the grass and cutting the trees and bushes.”

  We placed the groceries on the counter, and I helped take everything out.

  “I wish I could say Dad enjoyed taking care of the lawn. He hires people to do it.” He lined up the bags of chip
s on the counter.

  “Part of your allowance isn’t lawn care?”

  He snorted. “Allowance? I’ve never had one. My parents gave me a credit card at the age of ten.”

  “Lucky you,” I mumbled.

  He rested his arms on the counter, not appearing offended by my statement. “I have a limit on the card. I’ve been working for my dad since I was fourteen. I field his phone calls and set up his appointments. He pays me a weekly salary as his assistant.”

  I peered at the floor in shame. “Dylan, I’m sorry. You must think I’m a mega-bitch. I guess I should be the one embarrassed. I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I still get an allowance. That will all change in January after my birthday.”

  He leaned over and rubbed my arm. “Hey, no need to explain. I don’t think you’re a mega-bitch. Well, maybe a small one.”

  “I’ll admit I can be sometimes,” I said in an overly chipper voice to hide my humiliation.

  He continued rubbing my arm, which made my stomach flutter. He winked and opened the refrigerator. “I’m starving. Why don’t we make some sandwiches and eat out back and then start working?”

  I nodded, ecstatic the uncomfortable conversation had ended. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.” He rummaged around in the refrigerator and produced a loaf of bread. He chucked it at me, and I caught it with no problem.

  We stared at one another with big goofy grins on our faces. Perhaps my initial reaction to him was wrong. I hoped so. It would be nice to be friends with someone else who understood my moods and…just me.

  Chapter Nine

  We talked about everything and anything. Dylan told me about his mom who lived in Los Angeles and what it was like growing up in Manhattan. I told him about my parents and how excited I was for the new school year and the search for a job that hopefully wouldn’t stress me out. I didn’t mention Pete, and he didn’t ask. By the time we finished our lunch, it felt like I’d known Dylan all my life.

  Setting up didn’t take too long. At one point Mr. Mayone helped us. He told me stories about the celebrities and the superstars he worked with. I couldn’t help but listen in awe. Dylan just rolled his eyes and whispered his dad was showing off. Mr. Mayone was a great help. Before he left for the train, he and Dylan stood off to the side talking in low voices. At one point, Mr. Mayone took out his wallet and handed Dylan a wad of bills. Again I tried keeping my eyes from bugging out of my face. Father and son embraced, and with a farewell, Mr. Mayone left us.