I can’t stop shivering suddenly. I’m so cold.
“That’s better. See? I knew you had it in you rabbit.” Chance whispers with a hesitant smile tugging at his lips.
Honestly, I don’t think I actually had it in me. I almost welcomed the black spots trying to fill my vision. I don’t tell him this though. I don’t say anything. I’m content to just let him keep touching me. He’s so warm. Something warm and damp slides out of my eyes and tickles its way down my cheeks. The tears that escaped my widened eyes don’t get very far though. They are stopped by Chance’s thumbs. He wipes them away with the sweetest of smiles.
Breathing again, I notice it’s more even now. The same can’t be said for my pulse though. He seems closer suddenly. Did he move closer to me? My gaze shifts from his eyes and without a reason, I find myself staring at his full lips. I have a silent plea that he’ll kiss me. He gets closer still and I’m certain he’s really going to kiss me.
Then a shape pushes into the cramped space behind Chance. I jump at the sight of Ashley. So does Chance. His hands fall from me cheeks. Disappointment fills me. So does annoyance. The latter directed at Ashley. I want to scream at her to go away and beg Chance to touch me again. But the sight of her worried face makes me feel guilty.
As Chance leans away from me, his sister places a hand on his back.
“Is she all right?” She looks to me not waiting for an answer. “Are you all right?”
I really don’t know how to answer that. Physically? I’m breathing again and all panic has subsided. But emotionally? I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to. At least the panic is gone. I don’t even want to think why I felt that way. I mean how embarrassing. It’s official. I’m a loser. Go team me.
“She’s fine. Aren’t you rabbit?” Chance says, drawing my attention back to him.
He’s watching me with the strangest expression on his face. I nod absently. It must appease Ashley, because she scoots back out of the car from once she came. And then so is Chance. Not without holding a hand out for me though. Hesitantly, I place my tiny chilled hand in his bigger warmer one. He wraps his fingers around me and covers my entire hand in his own. With even more chills coursing over me now, he eases me out of the car.
It’s weird to find that it’s not nighttime. I feel like I was in the car for forever. It’s not the best of feelings to know that I didn’t skip the school day. So I still have that to look forward to. Yippee. Here’s me super excited once more. Not. Panic doesn’t rear its ugly head thankfully, and I think it might be because of Chance touching me. I guess boys are good for some things.
I’m still shivering though and I don’t have the slightest idea why. Not that I have to worry, because Chance slips his jacket off and places it over my shoulders. I want to tell him he doesn’t have to. The words don’t even make it close to slipping through my lips. I know it wouldn’t do any good to try to convince him, just like the other day with the heat in his car. So I don’t.
Instead, I pull the warmth of his jacket closer to me. I breathe in its scent, his scent. Its jumble of things, boy smell mixed with some sweet smelling cologne and fresh air. It’s soothing to my senses. Heck, it’s soothing all around. I hang on to it as the three of us make our way into the school. They both stick close to me, like I might try to bolt. Or maybe their worried I might pass out. Whatever the reason, I’m just glad for the support.
I don’t even see that the hallway we step into is so crowded that there is barely moving space. I don’t even see the stares that are directed my way. None of it matters. Not when I have two people that have quickly come to matter to me more that the family that I come from. It’s funny really. I’ve never had a friend before and now I have two. Feeling like I’ve been transported to an alternate reality, I let Ashley and Chance guides me to my homeroom.
Then we’re at the door of a classroom that is steadily filling up. They both give me reassuring smiles, silently telling me that I can do this. And you know what? I just might think that I can. With promises to see one another later (probably in lunch – since I don’t have any classes with them) we part ways. Not before I receive a wink from Chance that makes me blush.
I let confidence come to the forefront of my feelings, and I turn into the room. As I sit at a desk surrounded by strangers, I wonder what I did in a past life to deserve this. Clearly I must have done something right to have two people that were strangers last week, now caring if something happened to me. It’s a nice feeling. One that I want to remember. One I hope they remember. There is something I could stand to forget though. Like the fact that I succumbed to a freaking panic attack. Over coming to school. Slouching in my desk, I hope that I don’t do anything like that ever again. Even if it did almost get me a kiss.
Why you ask?
Because demons aren’t supposed to have panic attacks.
It seems I’m a loser all around.
Chapter Eight
By the time lunch rolls around, I’m over any disillusion I had about thinking school was this great experience that must be shared by everyone. It’s really not and it shouldn’t. Heck, I can’t believe I was so nervous. It’s kind of boring actually. Not the classes or the people in them, just the whole flow if it all. It’s just steps in a constant moving plan that leaves no room to deter from. Which, kind of works for me oddly enough. Since I’m so busy thinking about nothing but the talks at hand, I don’t have time to think about what brought me here.
I’m just one of the many bodies moving along. It’s nice. I don’t mind hazing into the background for once. It’s definitely different than being forgotten that’s for sure. And I should know. There are so many times than I can’t count on both hands how often I was forgotten at home. But with them I did do it intentionally. Except for the times that I didn’t.
I have so many memories of being left in a playpen as a baby, that it’s not even funny. Sure I was given a bottle or random toddler snacks. But it’s not the same as being held or loved. I suppose I should thank my father for even consider giving me a bottle. Most days back then, more often than not, they would forget to change or feed me. Lucky for me I was resourceful. Who knew right? A resourceful toddler.
I would spy on my siblings quite a bit, not unlike the cake incident with my sister. Before that one though, my sister would always catch me. And before I could do anything about it, I’d be one of the many stuffed animals she had lining up around a table in her room for a tea party. I never memory blocked her during these times though. It was the only time I had something good to eat. She would stuff me up with all sorts of things.
If I didn’t think she was big on the torture, I might’ve thought she was being sweet. Never the less, pretty soon my mother caught on to my sisters ‘giving’s’ of me and they stopped. Again, I could have made them forget and go back to getting spoiled, but I didn’t. Instead, I went about stealing my bounties. That in itself gave me more me time. Whatever that is. Thankfully I grew up, and as I did, I became even more resourceful. In more ways than one.
I still can’t believe I stuck around there for so long. I’m just glad I finally came to my senses that no, they’re not going to change, and got out of there. It hurts to think about the ways they burned me (and yes sometimes literally – my father’s ability was a little hot to the touch. Meaning as my mom could make a room freezing, my dad could make it hot). I can only imagine the different ways my life would have ended if I hadn’t intervened. Would I be here? Standing before a set of see through double doors that lead to the biggest cafeteria I’ve ever seen?
I’m going to go with no, probably not.
But it doesn’t do anything good for my self-esteem thinking about that stuff. So what’s the point? There isn’t. That’s why a smile is plastered across my face and I clear my head of anything bad. That way, there’s room for my nerves as I push open the doors. I certainly have a plethora of those. I’d be a whole heck of a lot calmer if I were still wearing Chance’s jacket. But sadly, I had to leave
it in my locker. Apparently when it cools outside, the heat is cranked up too high in this place. So I had to shed the coat pretty fast to avoid sweating like a pig.
Having not seen Ashley or Chance for the better part of the morning, I really hope they are in this lunch period. One of the lesser fears I have is sitting alone at lunch and seeing everyone else surrounded by friends. Hopefully, my earlier statement of already having to friends didn’t go unnoticed. Feeling a blush in place, I hurry inside before I look like a weirdo just hovering at the door. As I make my way to the lunch line, no one so much as glances in my direction. I like that.
It lasts until I have a tray of food and I’m left staring into the mass of bodies with not so much as a place to sit. I feel panic setting in and the urge to bolt is strong. I’m just thinking about a perfectly good stairwell I could probably go to eat in peace, when I see a familiar arm attached to a Lilith blonde figure waving at me from across the room. I quickly make my way over to Ashley, thanking my lucky stars that she’s here. I plop down right beside her without looking at anyone else at the table.
“Hey neighbor lady. How’s your first day so far?” Ashley asks me as soon as I’m done fidgeting beside her.
Glancing at her I say, “It’s going.”
She nods back at me, like she knows exactly what I mean. I’m sure she does. She did witness me having an actual panic attack earlier. Then before I can begin eating some mystery meat that still makes my stomach growl, she starts introducing me to the bunch of girls at the table around us. Most of them kind of blur into just smiling friendly faces, with names I forget after hearing them. One stands out though. The girl that was with Ashley on my first day at work, Jane something.
She doesn’t smile; at me anyways.
In fact, she kind of seethes while staring at me. Not that she lets Ashley see this though. She switches from smiling to glaring so often that I’m thinking she must have more problems than I do. Not sure, or caring, what her problem is. I just ignore her. She must be decent enough for Ashley to be hanging out around her. So I let her instant dislike of me go. See? I’m changing already. The old me would have totally memory blocked her.
Halfway through lunch and conversations I steer clear from, I spot another friendly face. Chance. As luck would have it, he has this lunch too. He’s currently sitting at another table a few rows ahead of this one. He’s surrounded by a group of laughing guy’s that look at tall and lean as him. My first thought is ‘football players’. They certainly fit the description I have of them in my mind. Of course, none of them can even compare to Chance.
My worries over my hormones going crazy for every boy are forgotten. I never should have been afraid in the first place. No one can compare to him. In my mind, he’s the epitome of male (er, boy) beauty. I have to admit, my tastes deserve some serious props. As if sensing my eyes on him, his pretty blues find me. He grins instantly and tosses up a hand in a wave. I return it easy. With a wink, he faces his friends again. I face my empty tray with a deep blush staining my cheeks.
Huh, is this what happy feels like?
It’s only later that day as I wrap the tenth sub of the night correctly, that I think that yes, this is definitely my version of happy.
And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
***
On Friday, as I walk home from a busy shift at work, I can’t believe how fast time fly’s. As the saying goes, time flies when you’re having fun. In my case, I’d substitute fun for just plain super busy. That’s what the last couple of days have been for me anyways. From getting up early every morning, meeting Chance and Ashley for a ride, going to school, and then walking to a quiet (usually) shift at work with Toby. Most times I walk to work right after school, other times I’d catch a ride with Chance. He never even gives me a chance (pardon the pun) to refuse him.
It’s nice to know I have someone to rely on. Even it’s a new transition. In a good way though, I get to walk home at night on my own. I like this time. I can actually think about things and be myself. I mean yes, I have the garage apartment for alone time. But this is different. This is me, alone in open space, with nothing confining me. Definitely different than what I’m used to. Then again, so are most things these days.
As fast as the week passed, it strangely feels like it’s been longer. I have the sense like I’ve always been here or something. Here In this very same pattern, just a normal girl living her life, and not the scared demon from California. Wouldn’t that be nice? I’d never have to worry about zapping someone if they startled me, or to have the urge to block myself from someone’s memory if something bad happened.
I’d be able to just be me, Daria, the girl with not a single worry.
A smile plays across my face, as I near the garage that has fast become my home. It’s not until I’ve already stepped in through the open main entrance, that I realize that it shouldn’t be open at all. Then my eyes land on a familiar mustang, where an even more familiar body is currently getting out of. I freeze in place. My smile slips slightly. Not from anything bad, just because I haven’t really been alone with Chance since the time in the car when he was touch my cheeks. So naturally my little girl heart is doing back flips in my chest at the moment.
I’m wondering what brings him home so late, when he spies me frozen in place by the door watching him. He too freezes, like he didn’t expect to see me standing there. Then again, he probably didn’t. I am a new fixture to the once empty garage. I can’t help noticing the way the blue of his eyes sparkle in the moonlight. And I’m grateful that not a single light is on, because really, what girl wants the boy she’s thinking corny thoughts about to see her blush.
But then he smiles (my favorite sly one of his) and rounds the side of the car. This brings him closer to me. I basically have to resist the urge to back up or to skirt around him and run into my apartment and lock the door behind me. Did I mention I’m a weirdo? Please insert eye roll here.
He stops just shy of touching distance, and reaches his arm out to me. Oh man, is this it? Is he going to just kiss me like I want him to? His hand is almost to my cheek again, and I let out another sigh, almost already feeling the warmth of it. Seconds tick by, but the warmth never comes. That’s because his hand passes my cheek, and goes right for the light switch that just happens to be right behind me. Go figure.
The garage is flooded with light. Enough that I can see Chance pulling his hand back and sticking now both in the front pocket of his jeans. He then takes a step back, once again at a safe distance from me. No sign of a kiss in sight. Stupid light. I just know he can see the wicked blush staining my cheeks. For once I wish my wild hair wasn’t secure in a knot on top of my head. I could seriously use it as a curtain right about now.
Looking right at me he says, “Fancy meeting you here rabbit.”
Even in the light, the sparkle is still in his eyes. I get the feeling that maybe he knew exactly what I would think when he moved in so close to me. And what’s worse? He knows why I’m blushing, because I so obviously wanted him to kiss me. So what do I do when faced with something embarrassing? Play it off cool like and say something witty? Ugh, no. I always use anger and resentment as a shield. No need to change now.
“Not really, I do live here you know.” I tell him with a slap in my voice.
Of course it would probably sound convincing if I were glaring or something. But hey, how menacing can I really be to a boy who towers over me just so. I guess that’s why I don’t bother glaring. Instead I have a sly grin of my own on my face. Am I flirting? Oh boy, this won’t end well. I can so see him laughing anytime now.
Only he doesn’t. His grin just turns authentic and he bows his head a little bit at me.
“True enough.” He says.
Well, it is kind of stating the obvious. Whatever, I’ll let it slide this time.
Feeling a little bold, I say, “So what keeps you out so late after dark?”
I expect a laugh of some kind to fall out of his lips, but I don
’t get as much as a chuckle. He turns away and goes over to lean against his car. I follow him, feeling guilty for saying something wrong. Even though I don’t know what it was. I eye him cautiously, leaning a good distance away from him. I only realize that maybe stalking him just now probably isn’t my best move. Too late now though.
“Chance?” I utter in a whisper, not able to resist knowing he’s all right.
When his eyes turn to me, his expression is the most serious it’s been since I first met him. I want to kick myself for making him look that way. His gaze holds me in perfect serenity, and we stay in silence for a few moments. Then a need fills his eyes, and his lips part like he is going to say something. I inch closer, not wanting to miss a thing. And as fast as the need appeared in his eyes, it fades.
He shrugs and looks away. The moment’s over.
Well, for him at least. Not for me. I so want to know what he was going to say, and there is no doubt he was about to confess something. Feeling’s for a certain someone perhaps? I can only hope. I get this sinking feeling it was something important, whatever it was. And at the last second, he didn’t want to tell me. I can’t help the sting I feel from this. I want to be the person he share things with, important things. Sometimes it sucks being a new person in someone’s life. Case in point, for example.
Turning back to me suddenly, his expression is at ease again. His smile back in place, but that spark is gone though.
His voice shocks me out of my stupor and I think for a heartbeat he’s really going to confess something to me.
“So, ugh, how do you like it here so far?”
I stare at him like he’s asked me the most ridiculous of questions. That isn’t the something deep and meaningful I thought he’d share. Imitating his shrug, I look away. I’m feeling like I should be brutally honest here, and I can’t do that with his crystal clear eyes boring into me.
The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon Page 8
