by Amber Garza
A quick walk into the kitchen and family room confirm my suspicions that no one is home. I head back to my room and snatch my cell off my dresser where it sits charging. Sure enough there's a text from Mom saying that they took the twins to breakfast and the park. Rubbing my eyes, I head toward the kitchen to get myself something to eat. The minute my bare feet hit the tile, a knock on the door grabs my attention. I freeze, glancing down at myself and assessing my pajama shorts and t-shirt. I haven't looked in the mirror yet, but I'm sure that my hair is sticking out all over the place. Ignoring the knock, I walk further into the kitchen. I'm sure it's just a salesperson anyway.
When I reach into the cabinet to pull out a cup, the knocking on the door resumes. They're pretty persistent, huh? After another round of knocks, I groan and shuffle to the door. Obviously they’re not going away. I'm hoping the scowl on my face will scare them off. Only when I open the door, it’s Tripp who stands on my front porch wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt that clings to his chest. My hands immediately fly to my head and I begin smoothing down my mess of tangles. I press my mouth closed, disgusted that I haven't even brushed my teeth yet.
"Hey."Tripp smiles. "Bruiser was wondering if you wanted to join us on a walk." He holds up his hand, and that's when I notice he's holding a leash.
I glance down at Bruiser, who takes the opportunity to rub his head against my leg and let out a friendly bark.
"Bruiser wanted to know, huh?"
Tripp shrugs. "What can I say? He likes you."
"Um..okay. Hang on. Let me just go change." I hug myself, feeling embarrassed.
Tripp's gaze lands on my thighs, and his eyebrows lift. "I think what you have on looks fine."
I blush. "I'll be just a minute. Wait here." After closing the door, I race down the hallway, my heart hammering in my chest. My palms are sweaty by the time I get to my room. With clumsy movements, I fumble to open my dresser drawer and pull out some clothes. After getting dressed, I hurry into the bathroom and quickly brush my hair and teeth. If only I had time to put on a little makeup, and maybe run a flatiron through my hair or something that would be great. But I don't want to keep Tripp waiting. So, I grab my watermelon lipgloss and swipe some on swiftly before heading back outside.
Tripp grins when I emerge from the house. "Sorry. Did I wake you up, sleepyhead?"
My cheeks warm, and I glance down at my feet. "No, I just got up. I don't normally sleep in so late."
"Hey, it's fine. I wish I could sleep in on Saturdays." Bruiser hurries ahead of us, and Tripp pulls the leash tight as he starts walking down my driveway.
I walk fast to catch up until we are walking in sync. "Why can't you sleep in? I know it's not because you have two little kids running around screaming at your house."
A ghost of a smile plays on his lips. "I wish. No, my dad just runs a pretty tight ship. He expects me up early to help with stuff around the house on the weekends. The only reason I'm even out right now is because taking care of Bruiser is one of my responsibilities, and that includes taking him on walks." He says all of this while keeping his gaze trained forward, his chin up and his posture straight.
"Sounds like a drill sargaent," I say with a slight chuckle under my words.
Tripp snorts. "Close. He's a correctional officer."
I guess that makes sense. The times that I've seen Tripp's dad I've been impressed with his muscles and size. As we walk a few more steps forward in silence, I think about how weird it would be to have a parent who works at the prison. Then again, it probably isn't any weirder than your dad being a psychiatrist. Most people think that's pretty odd.
Bruiser barks as a car whizzes past us. Tripp yanks back on the leash as we make our way forward. The breeze feels good as the warm sun beats down on our backs. My tennis shoes clomp on the pavement with every step. We almost pass Tripp’s house when his front door pops open and his mom steps outside. She glances up at us, and I think she may have come out looking for Tripp. But her eyes are blank, almost like she’s looking right through us.
Tripp's shoulders visibly tense, his jaw twitches and he swiftly turns his head from his mom. Her gaze drops. Perplexed by the whole exchange, I keep my lips pressed together as we pass the house. Before we round the corner, I peek over my shoulder. Tripp’s mom stands in the middle of her driveway staring out at the street looking lost. A chill brushes over my body. Everything about Tripp’s family seems strange.
“So, you like to draw?” Tripp’s question cuts into my ponderings about his family.
“Yeah.” I wrinkle up my forehead in confusion. “How’d you know?”
“I saw the sketch you were doing that one afternoon in your yard. Remember?” He nudges me in the ribs. “One of the many times you told me to leave you alone.”
I giggle. “Ah, yes, that’s right. Sorry about that.”
Tripp shrugs. “Hey, I get it. You had no reason to trust me.”
I wonder if I have a reason to trust him now, but I let the question slide off and I smile at him. “Yeah, I love to draw, paint, and sculpt. Really I just love art.”
“Do you want to be an artist when you grow up?” We pass a house with a guy mowing his front lawn, and I barely catch Tripp’s words over the loud sound.
I’m grateful when we pass by and the noise becomes more and more distant. The scent of freshly cut grass still lingers in the air though. “I don’t know. It’s not really a practical dream.”
“I don’t think dreams are supposed to be practical. Doesn’t that negate the whole point of a dream?”
I nod, letting his words sink in. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” As we round another corner, I study Tripp’s profile. “What about you? What’s your impractical dream?”
He starts to open his mouth like he’s going to answer, but then he clamps it shut swiftly. His eyes shift back and forth like he’s thinking for a minute. Then he finally says, “I think it would be fun to be a pilot.” He lifts his head to the sky and closes his eyes just for a minute before opening them back up. “Then I could fly high in the sky away from everything down here.”
I can’t help but feel that there is a double meaning in there somewhere. “I’d be so scared to fly a plane.”
“So you’re not a risk taker then, Hadley?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. My mom used to call me Miss Safety when I was younger. I don’t even really like roller coasters.” I cringe at my words. Now he probably thinks I’m an idiot. Why do I always have to run my mouth?
“I love roller coasters. Maybe you just haven’t gone on one with the right person.” He winks at me. “I bet if I went with you, you’d have fun.”
I look away from him so he won’t see how red my face is. How does he always have the ability to render me speechless?
"Ow." I pull back, reaching up to stroke my throbbing eyelid. Paige sits across from me on the ground, her legs tucked up under her body. She holds her arm out, the offending eyeliner pencil dangling between her fingers. "Okay, hand me the mirror so I can assess the damage," I joke, opening my palm.
Paige hands me the mirror, and I hold it up. The minute I take in my reflection I burst into laughter. I look like a clown. My lips are red, my eyelids are covered in a horrid bright blue color, and scarlet lines are painted up my cheeks. Paige giggles along with me.
"You are the worst person in the world at makeovers," I tease her.
"Oh, and you're better?" She points to her own over-made up face.
"Fine. I guess it's safe to say we both suck at it." I lean over and snatch my can of soda from the coffee table. A wet ring stains the wood, revealing where the can had been. I scold myself for not using a coaster, as I wipe the mark off with the sleeve of my shirt. After taking a sip, I snatch a coaster and place it back down. As I do, a knock on the door startles me. I glance up at the clock on the wall and cock my eyebrow.
"Expecting company?" Paige asks.
I shake my head. The knocking continues, so I stand up. It's eleven o'clock on S
aturday night. Therefore, my mom, stepdad, Ainsley and Adam are all in bed. I scramble toward the front door, hoping that the knocking won't wake any of them up.
Pressing my eye to the little peephole, I catch a glimpse of Tripp standing on the front porch. Relief washes over me. "Oh, it's just Tripp," I say, reaching for the doorknob.
"Just Tripp? You mean, like Tripp Bauer? Why would he be here?"
As I pull the door open, I feel guilty. I haven't exactly told Paige that Tripp and I have been hanging out so much.
"Hey, Hadley," Tripp says, but when I turn to face him his mouth drops open. "Whoa. What happened to your face?"
"Paige gave me a makeover." I nod my head in Paige's direction.
"You really shouldn't let her do that to you." Tripp leans in close and speaks softly, his warm breath feathering over my skin. "Your beauty shouldn't be hidden under all that gunk."
My face warms. Is he saying that I'm beautiful? No guy has ever said that to me, and I never imagined that when one did it would be Tripp Bauer. It's like a dream come true. Then again, I could be reading too much into one casual comment. Before I can analyze his words any further, Paige moves forward to stand beside me. Tripp's gaze flickers to her and then he shoves his hands into his pocket.
"You girls seem busy. I should get going."
"No," I squeak out desperately, and then feel stupid. "I mean, we're not busy. You can come in."
"Are you sure?" He asks sheepishly.
"Yeah." I smile. "Don't worry. We won't give you a makeover, I promise."
"I make no such promise," Paige says with a devilish grin.
"Just don't fall asleep," I warn Tripp. "Paige has been known to draw on people's faces as they sleep."
"Not people," Paige clarifies, as Tripp steps inside. "Just Hadley, and it only happened once."
"Twice," I correct her.
"Okay, fine. Twice, but that's it," she confesses.
Tripp smiles. "Okay, I won't fall asleep then."
He follows Paige and me into the family room. The movie we were watching still plays on the TV. When we make our way over to the couch, the vampire on the screen is sinking his teeth into a girl's neck. Dark red blood spatters across the screen in graphic detail.
"I did not peg you as a girl who liked vampire movies, Hadley." Tripp plops down on one end of the couch.
"I don't." I take the seat next to him since Paige is already on the other end. "But Paige loves them."
"What can I say?" she shrugs. "I'm a sucker for blood and gore."
"So, why'd you come over here?" I ask him, unable to hold back my curiosity any longer.
"I was just bored, and I thought I'd see what you were up to."
"The most popular boy in school is bored on a Saturday night?" I joke. "I'm sure you have a million parties to attend."
"C'mon." He nudges me in the shoulder with his elbow and the skin on skin contact causes goosebumps to rise on my flesh. "You know me better than that."
Paige's eyebrows raise at this statement. I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do later. But he's right. I may not have been hanging out with him that long, but I've already realized that he's not exactly a party boy. Most weekends he hangs out at home. I'm actually surprised at how popular he is since he seems like kind of a loner. One thing I know for certain is that Tripp is a lot different than I had imagined him to be.
"What about you?" Paige asks him. "What kind of movies do you like?"
"Comedies, I guess," he answers.
"Ooh, me too," I say. "This movie is almost over. When it is I can put in something funny."
"Sounds good." Tripp grins at me, leaning back against the couch cushions.
My insides flutter and I rest my head back too. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Paige watching us with a wary expression.
After Paige's movie ends, I put in a comedy. By the time it finishes it's around one o'clock. Paige has fallen asleep against my shoulder, and Tripp yawns behind his hand. Lifting up his arms, he stretches just as the credits roll.
"I better head home."
"Yeah." I nod, biting my lip. The movement causes Paige to stir. She picks her head up, her eyelids flipping open revealing bloodshot eyes. There is a line of black smudges trailing from her eyelids up onto her forehead — the remnants of our earlier make-overs.
Tripp stands up. "See ya later, Paige."
She waves at him before allowing her head to slump back down on the couch. I stand up and follow Tripp to the door. When we reach it, Tripp leans against the doorframe reminding me of a male model posing for a shoot.
"Hey, thanks for letting me crash your sleepover. I had fun."
"Sure." I try to sound calm but my heart is beating frantically in my chest.
"Wanna take Bruiser on a walk tomorrow?"
"Sure." I mentally slap myself for continuing to say the same word over and over like a freaking robot.
"Great. See ya then."
After he leaves, I blow out a breath and head back into the family room. Paige is staring up at me from the couch, her eyebrows raised. "So, are you gonna tell me what's going on between you two?"
"There's nothing really to tell."
"Oh, come on." She pushes an unruly strand of hair from her face. "Tripp Bauer just showed up at your house late on a Saturday night. This is epic, Hads. Spill."
I giggle. Sinking back on the couch, I try to figure out where to begin. "I'm not really sure what happened exactly. I mean, you know that we kept running into each other in the neighborhood, and that Mom invited him to dinner that one time. I guess at some point we just kind of became friends."
"I can't believe you are friends with Tripp Bauer. I never thought I'd see the day." She slaps me gently on the thigh.
"I never did either," I respond honestly.
FOURTEEN
TRIPP
"Come this way," I say, motioning Hadley forward with a roll of my fingers. We step off the road and onto the bike trail. It's early Sunday morning, and dark clouds blanket the sky. "Bruiser loves this trail."
Falling in step beside me, Hadley's subtle fruity scent lingers in the air. "Thanks for coming by last night. It was fun."
"Yeah, I had a good time. Tell Paige I'm sorry for interrupting her night with you though." My insides twist when I think about last night. I hope my dad never finds out that I wasn't out with the guys like I told him. Not that I regret it. It was worth it to be able to spend an entire Saturday night at Hadley's lounging on the couch and watching movies. I can't remember the last time I was able to do that.
Hadley shrugs. "Nah, she didn't mind you coming over. Believe me, if she did she would've said something. She's not really one to hold back how she feels."
"I can tell." We walk forward into an enclosure of trees. Shade surrounds us, making it appear even darker than it is. "That must be why the two of you are such good friends."
"What do you mean?" She turns to me, one eyebrow raised.
"Oh, c'mon, you're not one to keep your mouth shut either," I point out. Two guys bike past us, their wheels whispering as they spin. "I've gotten an earful from you on more than one occasion, and most girls do not talk to me like that."
"I'm sorry." She blushes, bright pink staining her pale cheeks. It's something she does often, and I find it endearing.
"Don't be. I meant it as a compliment." I wish I could say what I thought all the time instead of just saying what I think I should. It would be so freeing. I admire that in Hadley. A middle aged couple jogs past us, the woman pushing a baby in a jogging stroller. The woman flashes Hadley and I a knowing smile. I can tell she thinks we're on some kind of a date. And really, would that be so weird? The more I hang around with Hadley, the more I think that could one day be a possibility. If only I could convince my friends to see past her social standing and get to know her. I almost laugh at that thought, knowing it will never happen.
"It's so pretty and peaceful here," Hadley says, her voice breathy.
"I know. Tha
t's why I love it." Hadley looks at the greenery all around us, and her face holds an awed look. She is so beautiful in this moment that I want to abandon Bruiser and just sweep her into my arms. As if on cue, Bruiser yanks on the leash and lets out a gruff bark. A couple more bikes head in our direction, so I hold Bruiser steady and keep him close as they pass.
"I always pegged you as a guy who liked noise and excitement, not quiet."
"Guess you had it wrong," I say softly as we continue on. Bruiser hurries ahead, sniffing in the plants. I grasp tightly to the end of the leash, my knuckles whitening with the effort.
"Yeah, I guess I did." She peers over at me, an embarrassed look on her face. "But I bet those football games get pretty loud."
"You've never been?" I cock an eyebrow.
She shakes her head. "Football's not really my thing."
"It's not mine either," I say honestly, surprising myself. I've never admitted that to anyone before. But something about Hadley makes me want to be honest. It's just like the night she bandaged up my fingers when I wanted to pull up my shirt and expose my wounds. She makes me want to open up. For some reason she's the one person in the world that I really want to know me - the real me.
"Yeah, right." She nudges me in the side with her elbow, and chuckles. Clearly she thinks it's a joke.
I want to tell her it's not a joke, but I just can't seem to get the words out of my throat. How would I explain to her why I'm on the team then? I may want to open up to Hadley, but if I tell her the whole story I might just scare her off, and I'm not ready to do that just yet.
