That would have been awkward.
I shake my head and say, “No it’s fine Mr. Harris. I don’t mind.”
“Ah, she speaks.” He tells me with his grin returning.
I smile back.
“Of course she speaks. She’s just shy, right Daria?” Mellissa says softly to me “Which is nothing to be bothered by, it’s very endearing.”
I beam at this. Someone thinks I’m endearing? That’s new. Ashley scoffs across from us, and pointedly looks at her mother.
“And what is that supposed to mean mom? That I’m not endeared because I’m not shy?”
“Of course not love, everyone is endearing in their own way. Yours just happens to be bubblier than others.”
The two of then stare at each other intently. So much so, that I feel like I’m missing something. Like a piece of a puzzle that only they would understand. That only a mother and daughter would understand. All my mother and I ever shared is a cool indifference.
Her coolness and me being different.
“And by bubblier, what your mother means is a non-shy quality that only a parent can appreciate.” Craig mutters under his breath.
Ashley glares at her father, and takes a bite of potatoes, but remains quiet. Mellissa goes about shaking her head at the both of them. I get the feeling this is done quite often. As if the antics are an everyday thing and no one really gets bothered by them. One could be so lucky to not be bothered by family antics.
I have endured enough of my own.
To surpass a lifetime.
“Sorry Daria, I feel like we’re apologizing for everything tonight. We’re harmless I swear.” Mellissa leans over to whisper.
I shake my head adamantly at her.
“You don’t have to apologize. All of this is so nice.” I let slip.
All eyes turn to me again, and I blush into my plate of forgotten food.
Where is a fan when you need one? My cheeks can’t take much more of this heat. I really need to learn to keep my mouth closed and not draw attention to myself.
“So Daria, where are you from kiddo?” Craig asks, as the lot of them go back to eating while resuming to stare at me.
See? Open mouth, insert foot please.
“Ugh, back West Sir……California.” I stammer out before I can really come up with a lie.
I told Mellissa earlier just that I came from out West, and didn’t really give any details. It would figure that I couldn’t keep my past a secret. At least it isn’t the biggest secret. That one I’ll be keeping under lock and key.
Recognition lights in their eyes, and I can’t help but to notice the bright spark in Ashley’s.
“Ah, that makes sense then. Folks back there must be a little rough around the edges.” Craig says eyeing Mellissa.
While they stare knowingly at one another (in a way that worries me – whether they might be worrying about me), Ashley leans forward grinning like mad.
“California must be Amazing, and the clothes must be to die for.” She gushes.
Her eyes drift down to my baggy clothes, clearly not hot items, and looks away with a blush staining her cheeks. When she doesn’t say anything else, I realize she must see that I’m not the kind of girl to share clothes secrets with. Which is fine. I don’t have any to give.
“What brings you our way Daria?” Craig asks, as both he and Mellissa done eyeing each other and refocuses on me.
So here it is. The question that could make or break my start here. Why am I here? On my own no less. Looking all of sixteen, not that well off, and very far from home. I knew I should have come up with a lie to cover my tracks, but I was too busy just getting here. Now I’m going to pay for it. Do I tell the truth, that I ran away? But what if they report me, people are supposed to do that aren’t they? Report minors that show signs of abuse or something to authorities?
I clearly look like a kid with a bad past.
I can’t hide that fact.
Obviously taking too long to answer, I notice the bright spark in all of their eyes dims. I did that. Not a memory block, but made them wonder about me. It was probably already there, but my hesitation makes it more. I just know it. Now I have no choice but to try to be honest, unless I want to make them forget they asked.
That is the last thing I want to do though. Not just for the fact that I know it’s wrong. But for reasons I can’t really explain. It’s like a feeling. That I can trust everyone in this room. This is highly weird since I just met them today. It’s still true, and I trust it.
Truth it is then. Or half-truth.
I open my mouth to pour out that I’m a runaway trying to have a fresh start far from my past, when Mellissa leans into me. She wraps her gentle arm around me and gives a tiny squeeze. I look out to the others at the table, and see something in their gaze. Sympathy.
“You don’t have to tell us right now hun. I know there are some things in this world that make it hard for anyone to just be. I think everyone here understands the urge to start over. A clean slate is nothing to be ashamed of.”
By the time she pulls back, the three of them are smiling at me again. I don’t feel like smiling though. I feel like crying. Sobbing really. Again I ask myself, who are these people? They don’t care about my past? How did I get so lucky. Because that is what this is. It has to be. No doubt about it.
A demon with luck, who would’ve thought.
I swipe at my watering eyes, and stop them before they get overboard. No need to make my very own life preservers thinking they are trusting a loon. We all go back to eating, like nothing heavy just went through the room. Or they go back to eating, I resume shifting food around me plate. I’m suddenly not very hungry. This is a first. Of many it seems tonight.
“Do you have a job yet Daria? If not then I know the best place for you.” Ashley says out of nowhere.
A job, no, but I so need one of those. Can’t very well use my curse as a way to earn income. Not like before. It has to be different this time. I have to be different.
I shake my head no.
She beams.
“Perfect. There is a sub shop just down the road from here, where everyone who is everyone hangs out.”
I frown.
“Not everyone pumpkin, your mom and I don’t go there.” Craig intercedes.
“I meant everyone that counts dad. As in me and my friends.” She points out.
Mellissa laughs when he looks hurt.
I can’t stop frowning.
Everyone? Could I handle being around a lot of normal people? I mean seriously, I’m already being subjected to almost sobbing moments after a few kind words. The answer is simple, yes. Yes I can and I will.
“I think we count.” Craig tells her, and then puffs up stating, “I am famous after all. That has to count for something.”
I stop in mid-nod at Ashley. Did he just say famous? For what I wonder.
“Being known as the man who changed professional football, doesn’t count as being famous dad. It just means you’re popular.” She dejects.
Famous for football? That would explain the whole dinner prayer thing.
He puffs up more if that’s possible, and she starts giggling profusely at him. Mellissa shakes her head again and turns to me with a smile.
“Craig here, played for the New York Giants for a brief stint. He’s been retired since Ash was a baby.”
My eyes go large at this. Even living in a hole for most of my life, I know who the Giants are. They are one of the favored teams my brothers enjoy rooting for on television. I’ve stumbled on my fair share of brawls, which resulted in arguments in between games. I know the excitement of the sport.
He is famous then.
“That’s impressive Mr. Harris. They are a great team.” I say, no longer sounding like a cowering animal.
He beams. So does Mellissa. Ashley rolls her eyes.
“Don’t get him started please. Once he starts reminiscing, the night will be spent on nothing but football.” She practic
ally begs me.
I smile for real when what she begged not to happen, does. The next hour as we sit at the table, is spent on details of things I never thought to find out. Like how a team is almost like a family. And is something to be proud of. Like being in the army, they play for something with meaning. Here I thought it was just a game. Not to the Harris’s. For all her pleading to not hear about it again, Ashley even listened intently to her father.
Chapter Four
They went on to talk about Chance while I listened with open ears. Surprisingly, he’s another destined for football greatness. Or so Craig says. It’s been his goal of late to train his son and get him ready for the big leagues. That explains the prayer for him then. Now it doesn’t seem so strange. That’s not completely true. It’s still weird.
I lose myself in picturing what Chance would look like playing in a game. He has the build for it, or what I think would be. He is certainly tall enough to run down other players. If I stick around long enough, maybe I’ll have the pleasure to see him in action. By the gushing about him, I can tell his family is proud of him. It makes me feel the same.
Proud for a boy I don’t even know.
It’s enough to makes me blush.
And I do.
Eventually, the topic of football somehow gets pushed towards school. Which gets pushed to me and school. At first I feel like a deer caught in headlight, frightened. Enough to feel my hackles rise. It fades when Mellissa declares she is the school counselor. This explains for me the way they all seemed so understanding before about keeping my past a secret.
Then the unexpected happens.
She tells me that she can help get me registered. Not even having to worry about having transcripts, because I don’t. Have them that is. Plans are steadily made as the evening wears on. And before I know it Ashley is telling me the two of us are checking out the sub shop tomorrow. Mellissa states that on Monday she will get me squared away for school. Then dinner is over and I’m walking back to the garage, my apartment.
As I tuck myself into bed, I find myself knowing that things are looking up for me. I can have what I always wanted. A life worth living. In two days I’ll start high school for the first time. A thrill courses through me as I drift off. I should probably feel nervous, but I don’t. Later I can, but right now I’m keeping this feeling held close.
I sleep.
The following morning, a noise startles me awake. I open my eyes confused as to what is going on, when the noise turns into knocking. Rarely ever do my family come looking for me, let alone knock on the basement door. Glancing around wide eyed, I remember. I’m not in the basement anymore. I’m in my own apartment. Safe.
But who is the knocking and why so early in the morning? Oh, scratch that last remark. With the sun coming through the windows, I’m thinking it might be later than I realized. Something nags at the back of my mind, like a dream slipping away. I should know why someone is knocking at my door. In the next instant, I remember agreeing to go job hunting with Ashley. Clearly she takes her this’ll be a blast speech to heart.
I would too if I wasn’t feeling so grumpy.
I attempt to get out of bed to make the incised knocking stop, only I’m trapped. My legs are anyways. They must have wrapped around the sheet in my sleep, because when I go to move, a tangling battle ensues. It ends with me breathing heavy and limping minutes later to the still pounding door, with a plot to destroy said sheet later on.
Not caring that I’m decked out in boy’s boxer shorts, and a white shirt with a hole in one of the shoulders (and I’m pretty sure my hair has seen better days – think the Bride of Frankenstein), I rip open the door. A declaration that I’m not ready is about to pour out of my lips, when I freeze. All train of thought comes to a standstill. My mouth goes dry. I blush heatedly. Ashley isn’t the one at my door.
It’s Chance.
Miming a fish caught out of water, my lips flap open and closed with nothing coming out beside a squeak. He is practically filling up the entire doorway. My gaze travels up until it lands on his crystal clear blue eyes, and my knees feel overly weak. That’s when I become focused enough to realize that I’m totally ogling him again - like a brain dead idiot no less.
Not that he seems to mind. He just smirks while his eyes drift over me. I can almost feel his lingering gaze traveling in an overly sensitive way. And when his gaze greets my own, I mind feels muddled.
“Morning rabbit.” He says in a soft voice.
Chills course down my spine.
So what do I do then? Stop acting like an idiot and speak perhaps?
Of course not. That would be the logical thing to do. Apparently, I’m everything but these days.
I shut the door in his face.
Leaning my back against it, I try to control my breathing. It comes fast like I’ve just run a marathon. Shutting my eyes, I can hear him laughing on the other side. I want to scream so bad right now, one tickles the back of my throat. My entire body must be covered in the blush that is never going to go away. Not after this.
“Sorry to startle you rabbit, but Ash asked me to come by.” Chance’s voice eases through the door, causing me to shiver.
Oh man, I’m never going to be able to leave the apartment after this. I could have covered for my idiocy and fish miming easy. But not slamming the door in his face. What is wrong with me?
Ugh, there are so many answers to that question I don’t even know where to begin.
“I hear you’re interested in working at our infamous sub shop in town.” He calls out. “I’ve been deemed chauffer for the day. My vixen of a sister will be meeting us there.” He pauses. “If that’s all right with you…or…”
Sighing, I open my eyes and turn my head to the side. I do need a job. That was supposed to be the goal for today. But can I man up enough to face him to get it? I have no idea.
Chance taps lightly on the door. “You can take your time to get ready. I’m all yours today.”
All mine huh?
I highly doubt his words hold the same meaning to him as they to me. For me, they make my blush turn scarlet. But I do step away from the door. Turning around I can almost see him through the white blinds. I am so checking through those the next time someone comes knocking at my door.
I quickly reach up to flatten out my hair that is sticking out. Then I open the door again. And find that the reason I heard his voice so clearly through the door is because he was getting up close and personal with it. So he has to take a step back, otherwise I’d be the one he is getting up close and personal with. He grins the same smile at me, that I’m sure hasn’t left his face once.
I smile back.
“Can you give me a couple minutes?” I say in a rush before I change my mind. “To get ready I mean.”
He nods. “Of course. Just come down when you’re ready, I’ll be at my car.” He tells me as he starts down the stairs.
I smile in relief and ease the door shut, then rest my head against it. Is it normal to like someone so much you just met? Or am I completely postal for thinking he is the next best thing since sliced bread? I’m going to go with postal. And I’m so blaming the demon in me. What good is it, if I can’t blame everything that goes wrong in my life on it?
That sounds about right to me.
Feeling mortified that I’m about to be trapped in a car alone with him, I push away from the door. No sense freaking about it I guess. All it’ll do is making me crazier than I already am. The idea to memory block my door slamming from his mind sounds oh so good to me. Not that I’d do it. I wouldn’t. Honestly.
But I want to.
Life would be easier if I could use my gift without feeling bad about it. Except. I don’t want Chance, or any of his family to forget any part of me. For some reason, I want them to remember. I need them to remember, so I can be and feel normal. Not only that though. I’m done with being forgotten. I want my existence to matter.
Even if all anyone see’s is a blushing stammering gir
l.
She is going to stay.
I’m going to stay.
Smiling to myself, I walk over to my backpack that is stashed on a dresser in my room. It’s funny. I should come up with a personal mantra with all the pep talks I’m giving myself lately. And maybe I should. Put it on my fridge even. Just to remind myself that this is all a do-over, so I never forget. But then I think better of it, I’m sure no one does weird things like that. The goal here is to be normal. Not be any weirder.
That’s what I keep repeating, as I dress in the baggy short jeans and another too big t-shirt, and even more so as I knot my hair atop my head. Knowing I’m not going to be any more presentable than I already am, I head back towards the door. To downstairs. To Chance. I’m not surprised when a blush coats my cheeks before I even have the door fully open.
***
At the bottom of the stairs, I’m tempted to bolt back into my apartment and hide. It’s better than having to walk over to the boy that is casually leaning against the hood of his mustang. I don’t know what’s worse. The sly grin on said boy’s face or the speed I know that car will be able to go with me in it.
Both I’m sure.
Said boy, still grinning, straightens himself and goes about to casually standing in front of me. The movement causes me to take a half step back out of habit and I find myself craning my neck to stare up at him. All I want to do is look away. I just acted like the scared little rabbit again. It’s a habit I need to break out of. Some habits are hard to break though. I was like a broken colt pushed into submission all my life and now I’ve fled to the wild.
Some things take a while to get used to I guess. Like talking to pretty eyed boy’s for example. Who have no problem smiling at you while they wait for you to speak.
I clear my throat and avert my eyes.
He chuckles. “Didn’t mean to startle you rabbit.” He says softly.
I quickly glance up at him, “You didn’t.”
His sly little grin turns half mocking in a way that makes my insides mushy.
“I meant for earlier.” His grin widens and I blush not able to look away from him. “My coming to your door all unannounced like.”
The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon Page 4
