Becoming A Butterfly (The Butterfly Chronicles) (19 page)

“
Are you OK?” he asked, putting his hand on my shoulder. I looked around; I definitely had an audience now.

I shrugged away his hand as I turned and stomped off, suddenly losing my appetite. I left him standing there staring after me. I wondered if he was contemplating chasing after me, but I didn’t want to be rescued so I made sure he couldn’t find me.

I was beside myself. This was the first Friday night that I hadn’t spent with Jade and Tasha because of a World War III fight. I could count on my hands the sleepovers we’d missed due to cheer camp or vacations—never because of a fight. I lay across my bed reading a magazine but not really paying attention it
. Did I lose my best friends today?
There was a knock at my door; I looked up hoping they had decided that they couldn’t spend their Friday night without me either, but Chase slowly opened the door, and my room suddenly smelled like Chinese food.

“
I thought you could use some company.” He looked at me shyly. “And comfort food.” He held up the bag.

“
Thanks,” I said half-heartedly. We made a picnic on my bed and shared our boxes, trading off every so often. It felt like the most natural thing to do, and that comforted me. Then we played video games. He was surprisingly good. I settled in on the floor in my usual spot first, and eventually he moved down from my bed, right against me. He kept bumping me with his elbow and making me miss my targets.

“
Hey! We’re on the same team!” I growled.

“
Yes, but points still matter,” he smirked, bumping me again.

“
Seriously! Stop! Dude!”

“
Dude? Wow, you turn into a guy when you play these games.” He nudged me again. I paused the game and threw my control.

“
THAT’S IT!” I slammed into him, and he deflected me easily, laughing again as I rolled across the floor. It was the same laugh he’d given me in Columbus. I was too annoyed to appreciate it though.

“
OOWW!” I rubbed my elbow and retrieved my controller, returning to my spot a few inches farther away from him.

“
Are you OK?” he asked with concern, still smiling but looking at my elbow.

“
Fine,” I grumbled as I stared at the TV and shot his guy in the face.

“
Hey! We’re on the same team!” Then I smiled. “And I almost had you in points,” he growled, but not as fiercely as I had. I gave him my most innocent look, and then his eyes smoldered
as they lingered on me, suddenly making my breath catch.

We played for a few more hours. He really was the only friend I had left— the one who saw me for me and who thought of me when I could imagine a hundred other ways for him to spend his Friday evening. I was grateful. After the fight with Jade and Tasha, I could really use a friend. Finally, close to one a.m., we cleaned up our Chinese, and I walked him downstairs. I followed him all the way out to his car. We stood in the middle of the empty, sleepy street; he leaned against his car, and I stood in front of him about a foot away. I looked up at the moon, wondering what I would say when I saw my friends on Monday, or if I’d see them sooner.
Would I just go over to Tasha’s house in the morning and apologize? Should I apologize?
I was lost.

“
Everything is going to be OK. You guys will make up.” He gazed across the street. I only nodded. He straightened up and pulled me into a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face in his shirt. He smelled like fabric softener and his soap, my favorite smell in the whole wide world. I took a deep breath and suddenly felt my eyes watering. My breath caught, and he squeezed me tighter. I clung to him. “I promise,” he breathed into my hair, and when he kissed my temple softly, my heart pounded against him. He loosened his hold, dropped his hand to my waist, and leaned back to look at me. My eyes questioned his.
Why had he kissed me? Just to comfort me? Or was there more?
I didn’t understand. He tilted my chin toward him. Suddenly, it was as if I had stepped out of my body and watched him do this with another girl, a cool, popular girl, but no—it was me. His eyes searched my face. I held my breath, and he leaned into me. His lips were soft, and every nerve in my body reacted. I moved my arms
around his neck, and he pulled me tight against him again. I never imagined my first kiss would be with Chase, or that it would feel this good. Our heartbeats matched, and he turned us and I was now leaning against his car. He was pressed against me, reacting to me as much as I was to him. I didn’t think. If I had, I would have been wondering why I was kissing him when all I wanted was Henry. No, I wasn’t thinking about Henry. I was thinking about how good Chase’s soft hair felt between my fingers, how his hands were tracing my neck, my shoulders, my arms, my waist, my sides. He had magic fingers. I was thinking how this was the Best. First. Kiss. Ever.

Headlights blinded my left side and brought me out of my reverie. I broke our kiss to look at what monstrosity had invaded my perfect moment. Chase leaned in and made a soft trail of kisses across my cheek toward my ear, almost drawing me back in, but my eyes focused on the approaching car. I knew that car.
Who was it?
I was in a fog and nothing seemed real. Then the car turned into Henry’s driveway. It was Byron’s car, and that snapped me out of it. I groaned and leaned my head back away from Chase. That brought him out of the kissing induced trance he seemed to have been in. He looked at me a bit confused, and then his gaze followed to where the car was parking and where I kept looking. He pulled his hands away from me and stepped back as though I were on fire. Henry and Byron got out of the car and tried really hard not to look at us, but they failed miserably. I looked back into Chase’s eyes. As well as I’d gotten to know him, I couldn’t read this expression. I just stood there, stupidly, with nothing to say.

“
Can you move? I need to go,” he said, setting his jaw as he motioned for me to move with his keys.

“
I think we should talk about what just happened.” I wasn’t sure I could move if I had to. I just needed a minute more to gain my bearings.

“
I was just helping you practice before next weekend,” he said, as he swallowed hard and stared at his car.

“
Chase—” I began.

“
Lacey, really, I have to go.” He knew he didn’t really have to go. I knew he didn’t too, but I moved out of his way. He got into his car without another word to me.

I watched him pull away and the tail lights disappear as he turned the corner. I walked back to my front door. Henry and Byron stood in front Byron’s car, quieting their conversation as I passed, but their eyes were glued to me. I ignored them both and went inside, straight through the house to the backyard, grateful that this was one night my parents weren’t camped out on the back patio. I slumped into a lawn chair and put my head in my hands.
What had I just done?

Chapter 24

I didn’t want to get out of bed the next morning. I didn’t want to have to explain to my parents why I was home and not at Tasha’s house. I didn’t want to have to face Lana and her questions about why I was in such a bad mood. I was in a bad mood because I was a bad person. I lied to boys that I liked and tricked them into liking me. I lied to them about having feelings about them in real life. I lied to them and tricked them into liking me in real life. I lied to boys I thought were my friends and tricked them somehow into kissing me, and kissing me good. I woke up tracing my lips and imagining him kissing me again. That was not fair to Henry. That was not fair to Chase. It was not fair to me. I didn’t know what had come over him the night before to cause him to do that, or me for that matter, to kiss him back. I didn’t like Chase like that. He was my partner in crime; he was my banter buddy; he was my—OK, banter buddy is a little cheesy right? You get the idea; he had somehow managed to make himself vital to my way of life, and I could not ruin that. So
I hid under my covers until I heard my mother leave and my dad wander outside. Then I jumped into my shower. I was suffocating and had to get out. I emerged a half hour later in my favorite worn Levis and a comfy T-shirt. Lana jumped as if I’d caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to be doing. She was simply placing a tall stack of clothes on my bed.

“
Here are your clothes I’ve borrowed, laundered per your request.” Lana smoothed the top shirt on the stack of clothes. There were some pieces I hadn’t even realized she’d borrowed.

“
What’s this?” I asked, laughing at her. She did nice
things like this only when she wanted something.

“
Just returning your things.” She smiled and bounced off my bed. She was really returning to herself, wearing short sleeves again and some of her really cute dresses and things.

“
Hey, do you want to get out of here?” I asked, giving her an encouraging eyebrow raise.

“
What were you thinking?”

“
Remember that old general store by Turkey Run?” I asked; her eyes lit up instantly.

“
Yeah.”

“
Wanna go get ice cream?” She giggled because Turkey Run State Park was at least two hours away, though you had to taste the ice cream from Gobbler’s Knob to appreciate the fact that it was worth the drive. We told my dad what we were doing and were soon on our way. I cranked up the playlist and rolled down the windows. We sang at the top of our lungs as we drove down Interstate 74 West. For those few hours, I didn’t have questions in my mind
about fighting words or what I should have said. It was me and the music and my co-pilot. When we were little, my parents used to take us to Rockville for the Covered Bridge Festival in the fall and the Strawberry Festival in the summer. We would spend the weekend at a bed and breakfast and go see how the pioneers lived at Billy Creek Village and walk around the court house in downtown Rockville. Then, before we went home, we would spend the day walking the trails of Turkey Run, capping off the weekend with a trip to Gobbler’s Knob. Those weekends were what I loved so much about Indiana. We got off on State Road 41 and began to drive south. Before too long, we came across signs that said Steam Corner Flea Market. Rows of campers lined the fields, their awnings extended and tables set up with antique merchandise and knock-off designer wear.

“
Let’s stop!” Lana called over the wind rushing
around us. We had long since piled our hair on top of our heads in messy buns. “Maybe we can find something for Mom.”
What was wrong with this girl, thinking of others too?
I laughed and pulled into the makeshift parking lot, a field that extended the length of the flea market behind it. I found a parking spot and locked up the car. We began walking down the aisle, passing “booths” that held anything from feathered roach clips and velvet Indiana paintings to topaz jewelry. Some sold old antique dishes, tarnished and cracked. Others held the latest “as seen on TV” products, and the booth operators gave demonstrations on their merchandise. The booth operators ranged in culture as much as the products they sold. From retired, to what looked like motorcycle gangs, to church people. We stopped at a concession stand, and we each got a lemon shake-up and shared a funnel cake. There is something about carney food on a hot spring day. The lemonade made my mouth water with its tarty-sweetness and the funnel cake quenched it. Lana and I each bought a pair of knock-off Coach sunglasses for five dollars. I gave them until the end of the day before they broke, but I didn’t care; we were having fun. Lana wandered through the antiques as I found a stack of records with my dad written all over them. He loved vintage records and would sometimes make us listen to them for hours. I enjoyed them; there was something resounding about records that you don’t get from mp3s. I found a
Twisted Sister
and a
Metallica
that didn’t look too scratched up. I knew he would appreciate them. For a bonus, I talked the guy down to a dollar each. Lana found our mom a nice tea kettle. So after wandering the aisles for a while longer, we finally decided to be on our way. We put our treasures in the trunk and merged back on to State Road 41.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled into the gravel parking lot of Gobbler’s Knob. It was a whitewashed old general store with a wraparound porch. It had tables and swings sitting around the front of it. We walked up to the antique screen door, opening it with a squeak. We both ordered waffle cones. I got a scoop of praline pecan while Lana got superman, a blue, pink, and yellow rainbow ice cream.

“
Invincible?” I asked Lana, as the cashier rang us up.

“
Delicious,” she responded, taking a long lick.

Once we paid, we went outside and ate our ice cream and watched the cars pass on the country road.

“
I bet they don’t have bullies out here,” Lana said, surveying the wooded countryside.

“
Bullies are everywhere,” I sighed, taking a bite out of my waffle cone.

“
Not here. If we lived here, we could start over and be anyone we wanted to be.” She looked hopefully into the distance.