My goodies? Oh man, that’s not going to happen. I shake my head to make the point without having to say it.
“Don’t shake your head at me Miss Pigwidgeon. Over the last week or so, I’ve noticed you’ve put on some nice weight to some nice places. And if I noticed, then I’m sure Chance noticed too. No need to be shy, he won’t mind. Trust me”
Trust me she says. I’m supposed to take relationship advice from the girl making-out in a supply closet with her boyfriend because she can’t go public with it? Yeah, I don’t think so. It sounds harsh, but I’m new at this. Even if it doesn’t make sense, I need things to be slow going. It definitely helps with the non-freaking out factor. I would love to avoid that like the plague. And did she just call me fat? What the heck?
Yeah, that really makes me want to dress down from the hoody.
Determined, I say “Thank you for the pep-talk Ashley, really, but I think I’ll stick to this frock for now. But your tips are dully noted.”
She shakes her head at me and rolls her eyes.
“You’re thinking I just called you fat aren’t you?”
Yes, because you did, but I say “No.”
She smiles and shakes her head again.
“Oh yes you are. I can totally see the wheels turning in your head. And I didn’t call you fat FYI. I merely said your growing into curves that I knew existed around your boney frame.”
Now I laugh. Is she trying to insult me? But she laughs too, making me feel like she’s just trying to explain and not dish out insults.
Not convinced that I believe her, she says “What? I think you look good lady, nothing wrong with that.”
I’m blushing so dark right now. I probably look like that little girl in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the one that ate the blueberry. Minus the body blowing up of course. That is if you count Ashley’s comments that I’ve clearly already blown up. I hold my hands up to her, in surrender, hoping she’ll stop.
She does.
At this point the twenty minutes we had to spare, to wait for the older Harris’s to be ready, are up. This is signaled by a honking coming from outside. Ashley’s face lights up and she quickly snags my hand and literally pulls me from my apartment. We practically fly down the stairs, my feet hardly touching the ground. I sheepishly greet Mellissa and Craig when we get settled inside the car, and settle for the short drive to the school.
As football games go, I’m actually looking forward to this one. But that could be because of the blue eyed cutie, who I’m sure is going to look beyond great in some tight uniform pants. There are some things worth mentioning about sports, and that’s that they sure know to dress their men to a T. I could so get used to this. And not just the hours of ogling I’m about to endure.
I’m talking about feeling like I’m actually a part of a family.
The Harris’s don’t treat me like I’m just a tenant, or just a friend of their son and daughter. They treat me as I’m one of their own. It fills a void inside me that has been hollow for so long, and I never want to let it go. If only they knew how much that little thing meant to me. Of course, they’d probably think I’m insane for feeling this way.
But still. It’s there and I’m not going to let it go for the life of me.
Chapter Eleven
Climbing into bed later that night, I decide that watching a football game live is the best thing ever. It totally has everything to do with seeing Chance in action, and nothing at all to do with the game. As far as I’m concerned, there wasn’t even a game to begin with. It was just him running around looking yummy for about two and a half hours. Of course, if that were the case, he would’ve been shirtless and drenched in sweat.
I am so bad, my demon colors are showing, or maybe it’s just being a girl who isn’t blind.
My assumptions that the Harris’s are starting to feel like my substitute family were spot on too. Mellissa and Craig sung nothing but praises to me most of the night. Not that I mind. The only thing I’m used to parent types saying to me is “get out of the room before I inflict bodily harm on you”, though not in a nice way. Mellissa repeated what Ashley was trying to say before we left, that I was filling out nicely.
It was the most awkward moment of the night, and thankfully Craig changed the subject before I passed out from all the blood rushing to my head. Then of course, since I took an interest in the game, Craig went on to explain everything to me. And I mean EVERYTHING. I am now the proud owner of football knowledge, that like most school work, I’ll never use again. Although, quizzing Chance on some of these facts sounds like my kind of fun.
And then there is Chance. The only bad thing of the night, and kind of like the rest of my previous week, I didn’t get to see him up close and alone. Granted, he was busy playing and right after their win (something that made the crowd go wildly insane I might add) he was whisked away to the locker room. I was actually hoping to catch up with him afterwards, but Ashley informed me he would be going to an after party at one of the other player’s house. She was also attending, as she informed me, because there she could admire Jesse (the make-out forbidden surfer boy) from afar.
For about half of a second, she tried to convince me of the very same thing. But after sitting on bleachers for the better part of the night, the last thing I wanted was to hang around anonymous teens getting their drink on. Not that I have anything against getting wasted, but as a demon, it’s something that is best to avoid. I don’t know from experience, but I have been around some members of my family that have. And it isn’t pretty, at all. Think Carrie combined with The Exorcist, and that’s roughly in the same ball field of similarities.
None the less, I declined the party invite. This means I hitched a ride home with Craig and Mellissa, and got to have some serious quality time with myself. This totally consisted of me binge eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Boba Fett carbonite crunch icecream, like it was going out of style. And for the record, it’s a big possibility (since it’s a new flavor), so I went to town on the Hon Solo chocolate pieces.
I was about halfway through the pint, when I started thinking about Chance again. Oh heck, let’s be honest here, when have I ever stopped thinking about him? He’s pretty much been a constant star in my thoughts for the better part of a week or so now. I get the feeling he’s not going to disappear from them anytime soon, not that I’m complaining. I’d just prefer the real thing. Or maybe not, he is a little up and down with his own thoughts. Oh who am I kidding? I totally prefer the real thing, no matter the weird hostility and emotional withdrawal.
So, as I’m closing my eyes and only seeing Chance in all his game time glory, that’s when I hear it.
His car and it’s pulling into the garage.
I quickly roll over in bed and glance at the side table clock. Even in my blurring vision, I can see that it’s super late. It must have been some party. Still, he’s close enough to touch. That thought alone has me up and out of bed and racing to my door. I’m already starting down the steps, when I realize I’m only wearing a pair of comfy pants and a thin camisole. Not caring, I pad down the last few steps in my bare feet and don’t stop until the red mustang comes into view.
Unlike all the other times I’ve come down to see him at his car waiting, he’s clearly not expecting me. Otherwise, I’d doubt he’d be stumbling from the car with a lack of balance. I rush over to him, and have my arms securely wrapped around his waist before I can even think.
Getting him back into a vertical position, I say “Whoa there easy does it.”
Still wrapped around him, even when he’s safely on his feet, I sigh into the warmth of him. I probably would’ve tried to cop a feel too. That is if he didn’t push me away with a little too much force, as soon as he was steady enough to hold his own weight. I stumble back from him. Not even able to hold back the hurt that I’m sure plays across my face. Not that he notices.
He’s glaring at me. No trace of that spark that I love so much in his blue eyes.
“Wha
t do you want huh? Can’t I just have one night of peace without you butting in?” He says in a voice that’s laced with venom.
And it tears right through me, taking all my breath right along with it.
In a voice that resembles a faint whisper, I say “What?”
He literally seethes at me now and I take a step away.
“What? Did I stutter? All I want is one night. I don’t think that is much to ask. Do you?” He laughs then and shakes his head. “No, of course you don’t mind. I’m sure this is all so funny to you.”
I’m stunned in silence. My entire body is coated in a heavy hot blush. My eyes prickle that warning right before tears are about to fall out of them. Am I asleep? I have to be, this can’t be happening. It can’t.
But it is.
Chance’s glare deepens with no sign of a smile. He stalks in my direction and on an instinct I back the heck up. I am no mood to be toyed with, not when I can feel my hackles rising for the first time in I don’t know how long. He might be being an ass right now, but I don’t think electrocuting him is the best route to take in resolution.
Turns out though, the closer he gets to me, the closer a smell waifs in the air that is nothing like my familiar scent of ozone right before zapping. This scent is pungent, and very noticeable. His stumbling from the car and his new found personality makes some sense. He’s totally trashed. Not that it’s an excuse, by no means.
Pushing back my inner Taser, I don’t feel threatened anymore, I’m simply tired. Of everything that consists of anything. In a braver move than I’m accustomed to I place my hands on his chest to stop him from getting any closer to me. As it is, he’s close enough to kiss. But that is the last thing on my mind.
After putting up with my family, and now this, enough is enough.
“Chance, what in the hell is the matter with you?” I practically scream up at him.
He shoves my hands from his chest. I ignore the jab and just continue with the glaring.
“Nothing is wrong with me. It’s all you babe. All of it.”
I scoff and narrow my eyes at him as I say, “Oh is that right? Do tell what I’ve done to ruin your perfect life?”
He laughs darkly, and it sends chills running down my spine.
“You just being here, ruins it.”
Fighting tears, I add a little more to my glare and step up closer to him. Sometimes being so short sucks and this is one of those times. It’s hard to appear menacing when I have to look up at him. But he makes it easy, what with not even bothering to look away.
“You know something Chance? I am so over this crap. I don’t know or care what your problem is. All I know that I refuse to let it get in the way of a good thing I have here. I’ve come too far, and through so much other crap I can’t even explain, to get run off by some boy with a freaking power trip.”
My voice rises and my body shakes, but I simply step even closer to him and repeatedly point my index finger into his chest. And I’m not even close to being done giving him a piece of my mind. Not close.
“So you know what? Screw you and that freaking high horse you rode in on with. As far as I’m concerned, you can think whatever the heck you want about me, I don’t even care anymore. Just, leave, me, alone. Think you can handle that pretty boy? Huh? Can you?”
I finish out of breathe and oh so close to Chance. I don’t even remember moving. I’m far to pissed off. All I can see is his surprised expression. And I just know everything I’ve said is sinking into him, even threw his apparent drunken haze. Good. Let him think about how he acts affects me. He’s not the only one with high emotions. If he thinks he’s the only one with problems, then he should spend a day in the world of me.
I so have the urge to smack him, and I wouldn’t even care right now if he were zapped in the process. It might even be good for him. Put him in his place. I think I move my arm actually twitches with the need to strike him, but something stops me.
His mouth. On mine.
His lips crash into me with such force, that I stumble back with a gasp. I don’t have to worry about falling though, because soon one of his arms are wrapping tightly around my middle and pulling me into him. The other goes sliding to the back of my head, fingers sliding through my hair until they cradle me even tighter to him. All the while his lips never leave mine. And what nice lips he has, well who am I kidding, what a nice everything he has.
My body must be in shock, because as his mouth probes at mine, I stand stock still in his grasp. As first kisses go, I’m not really doing my part. I can feel him urging me to open myself up to him, and I want to, I do. I’m just not sure I should. But then he groans into my mouth, holding me just a fraction tighter, and my control goes right out the garage door. My lips part for him, as my shaking hands rise up to cup each of his shoulders. I literally squeeze him to him, and as I do, I swear fireworks course through my entire body.
I never could have guessed what his body would feel against mine. With not an inch of space between us, I don’t too. He’s warm and firm, pulsing with life that takes my breath away. I feel so small in his grasp, but it’s not an unwelcome feeling. I feel safe. Alive even. And when his tongue slips into my mouth, I let out a little moan. It gets lost somewhere between my lips and his mouth, like he’s devouring it.
He’s devouring me, and I so want him to.
The hand at my back shifts slightly so that he is touching my hip that’s just past the barrier of my camisole. He digs into the soft flesh there and I shiver at the touch. He pulls me even closer then, and our bodies meld into one. I let my hands wander and find a home in the soft waves of his hair. I’m about to pull him closer to me, if that’s possible, but then his lips slip from mine with a groan. I of course, make a whine in protest, but it turns into little breathy sighs as his lips slide down my chin to my neck.
Both of his hands are at my hips now, and they dig into me to the point of almost pain, but I don’t care. Not when he’s tracing slow circles with his tongue at the base of my throat. My hands in his hair keep him close to me, but I don’t think he’s going anywhere. And that’s good, because I can feel a warmth, no a pressure building in my abdomen. Little sparks of warmth are traveling slowly through my entire body. I feel as if I could explode at any moment. This scares me. I’ve never felt this way before. What if I’m about to zap him or something?
I don’t have to worry for long. He must have felt me tense, because his probing of my neck stills. His breath his hot against me, but I sigh further into him. As scared as I am, I don’t want the moment to ever end. But his hands loosen on my hips and he sucks in a deep shaky breath. As he slowly releases it, I shiver at the contact. He moves away from me then. Of course he doesn’t get very far, since you know, my hands are currently tangled in his hair. It doesn’t deter him though.
He simply removes his hands from my hips (that feel oddly cold and baron now) and uses them to disentangle my fingers from him. With my hands firmly in his, he lowers them as he steps away from me. His hold disappears the further away he gets, and when he’s just about a foot away, I knot my hands together. I need to keep them busy, or I don’t know, I might touch him again. And from the look on his face, I don’t think he wants that.
His usually unruly mess of hair is even more out of control, and it hangs over his eyes slightly. It doesn’t block the view of his eyes though, not that anything could. They are so bright, that I can almost see a sparkle in the darkness of the room. I can almost see a warm blush playing across his cheeks, but I can’t be sure, it is dark. He is so beautiful, and I want to go to him again, but the grim line of his mouth stops me. I suddenly feel like we just did something wrong. But how could that be wrong, when it felt so right?
Bowing his head with a groan, Chance whispers “Ah, rabbit. What are we going to do with you?”
I’m numb. I have no idea what he’s going on about now. He looks back to me then, and my chest aches at the guilt that plays across his face. Does he feel guilty about kissing me?
And then I remember the mean things he said to me, and the things I responded with. Well, good, he should feel guilty, about the jerking me around I mean, not about the kissing.
I must have made a move to go to him again, because he stops me with an outstretched hand. His eyes are wide and he resembles that of a deer caught in headlight, and I’m pretty sure I resemble that of a fish. My mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out but air. So many things I want to say and ask, but they stay locked inside me. Of course, he doesn’t seem to have that problem.
“I’m so sorry Daria. But I can’t do this.”
His voice was so soft and gentle, but it has nothing on the way he abruptly turns around and flees from the garage. From me. Watching him walk away, I feel like my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces. I don’t know what’s worse. The way he can give me a glimpse of something so strong and took it away in the next breath, or the way he just said my name for the first time. I’m thinking both, but even so, tears fall freely from my widened eyes. And I break.
I don’t even bother turning away to go upstairs for privacy. I simply fall to the cold hard cement that makes the floor of the garage. Feeling as though nothing makes sense, not before, not now, or not ever again, I cry for a stupid girl that can never find piece. The sobs come as I hunch over myself and they don’t subside even when I curl into a ball. Never have I ever felt so helpless. Not even growing up. Not like this. The tears stop at some point, but I couldn’t really say when. All I know is that I somehow managed to walk myself up the stairs, go into my apartment, seek out my bed, and crash into a pitiful sleep.
One thing keeps whispering in my mind. That after I recover, and that’s really an if, I won’t let myself feel this way ever again.
I won’t. I can’t.
It hurts too much.
***
Time seems to slow down (or speed up depending on how you look at it) after that night. The night that I don’t let myself think about or even want to think about. I basically move on autopilot, not really caring much about what’s going on around me. Things and people blur as I go from day to day. I must seem like something wounded, or someone that doesn’t want to be bothered, because no one attempts to break the wall I put around myself. No one but Ashley, but that’s not for a while yet.
The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon Page 11
