Eternal Spring A Young Adult Short Story Collection (33 page)

BOOK: Eternal Spring A Young Adult Short Story Collection
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“Oh, oh!” she exclaims, clapping her hands. “What if it’s
Johnny-in-the-Way? You know how much he’s in love with you.”

I groan. Anna and I dubbed John Richter ‘Johnny-in-the-Way’ freshman
year because of his preternatural knack for being in the wrong place at the
wrong time—usually
right
in my path as I’m trying to make it to class. He also hovers
by my locker way too often. It’s gotten to the point where I take extra books
with me to avoid going over there. I feel bad because I don’t like him. He’s
kind of nice, but just so…awkward.

And he’s not Curtis.

“That is so not funny,” I tell her with a mock scowl.

“So, who do you want it to be?” she asks, leaning back on
the couch and eyeing me. “You know, if you had your choice. Who would be your
dream guy?”

I know exactly who. It’s right on the tip of my tongue to
tell her about my feelings for her brother. But he’s still in the house
somewhere, and I’m petrified of what she’ll think. Plus, I still vividly
remember what happened with Cara. A couple of years ago, one of our casual
friends started asking to hang out more and more with Anna. Turns out she, too,
had a (
surprise!
)
huge crush on Curtis. Anna was hurt about being used like that and stopped
hanging out with Cara shortly after.

It would kill me for her to think I’d do something like
that.

“I hope it’s this dude,” I say, pointing to the TV right
when the hero takes his shirt off, exposing a carved six-pack and killer arms.
“He’s sooooo dreamy.”

“No kidding. So hot.” Luckily she drops the subject, sighing
happily with me as the guy jumps into the pool.

 
 

“Chrissy,” my mom hollers up to me on Sunday morning. “Get
your butt out of bed. It’s almost nine!”

I groan, smothering my head beneath my pillow. I got little
sleep last night—and not just because my dad snores like a drunken sailor
and I could hear it from down the hall. I couldn’t stop thinking about my
tulip, which is now in a thin glass vase by my bedside. So silly to fixate on
such a small thing. After an hour or so of lying in bed and staring at the
ceiling, thinking of brown eyes and red petals, I decided my best course of
action is to simply let it go. I’m likely reading too much into what was a
sweet, but random, gesture.

“Okay,” I yell back. With a heavy sigh, I flop out of bed
and shuffle my way through a shower, then towel off and throw on some capris
and my favorite Star Wars T-shirt, the one with Han Solo frozen in carbonite.
Anna, Curtis and I went to an all-day showing of the six Star Wars movies at
our favorite theater last summer, a junky little hole-in-the-wall that serves
cheap popcorn and plays all kinds of old flicks on the big screen. We’d each
picked out a shirt to wear—plus, Anna twisted her long blond hair into Princess
Leia buns, and Curtis kept calling me a youngling, threatening to drag me to
the dark side.

I wish. I’d visit the dark side of the theater with him for
a serious make-out session. Yowza.

No.
I focus on brushing my dark brown hair and tugging it up into a
ponytail, then make my way downstairs.

“Thank you for joining us, princess,” my mom says sweetly,
coming out of the kitchen into the hallway. She wipes her wet hands on a
dishtowel, slinging it over her shoulder.

I feign a yawn. “I figured it was time to let the peasants
get another glimpse of me.”

“Well, you’re full of it today.” She laughs, heading toward
the living room. “Breakfast is on the table. Hurry before your father comes
downstairs and eats it all.” After a pause she says with a sly smile, “And
something came for you earlier today. It’s by your plate.”

My heart thuds erratically in my chest. I run into the
kitchen and spot a small purple flower with a note folded underneath. Oh my
God.
Oh my God
.
“Mom, who sent this?”

“Some neighborhood kid dropped it off about an hour ago,”
she says loudly.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Holy crap, another flower!
There’s definitely something in this. It wasn’t a random event. It’s a real,
intentional thing. With shaky hands I pick up the wildflower. It has thin
purple petals, with a burst of yellow pollen in the middle. I’ve never seen it
before.

I tug my phone out of my pocket and take a pic. It takes me
about fifteen thousand tries to type out in a text to my aunt,
What
kind of flower
is this?
I send her the pic and text and put the flower down, then pick up
the typed note. A slip of paper falls out. I read the message first:

Noon today. Rainforest, by the big tree. Please come.

My heart rate picks up even more, and I bite my lower lip.
The paper is a ticket to the Cleveland zoo, including the rainforest. I haven’t
been in a couple of years. Glancing out the kitchen window, I can tell it’s
another beautiful sunny day.

Should I risk it? Is this stupid?

My phone vibrates. Now my pulse is racing to the speed of
heart attack. I pull it out. The text is from my aunt:
Aster. Beautiful flower! It’s a symbol of
love and trust. Oooooh—I want details, missy! ;-)

Will talk later!
I type back. Then I dial Anna’s number.

“Hello?” she says, sounding as groggy as I did half an hour
ago.

“OhmigodAnnayouwon’tbelieveit!” I say in one big exhale. I
force myself to slow down. “Okay. I got another flower. An aster, Anna!”

“Uh, I assume that’s a good thing,” she says, deadpan.

“Someone is sending me deliberate messages. And the person
wants to meet me at the zoo. And I…” I swallow. “I think I want to go. I need
to go. But you have to come with me.”

“You want me to be your backup date in case
Johnny-in-the-Way turns out to be a dud?”

“Hardy-har. I can’t go by myself. I don’t know who it is.
And I’m so nervous I’m going to throw up.”

“No throwing up in my kitchen,” my mom says, coming in and
planting her hands on her hips. “What’s going on?”

I gesture to her to wait one second. “Anna, will you come?”

“Hell, yeah. Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Great. I’ll get you in an hour.” I hang up. “Mom, I just
got asked out on a kind-of date!”

One eyebrow raises. “Um, I don’t really know what to say to
that.”

I explain the situation. As I’m talking, she crosses her
arms over her chest.

“I don’t know if I like this,” she says. “It’s not safe to
go meet someone you may not even know.”

“It’s romantic,” I exclaim. “No one’s ever done anything
romantic for me, especially not like this. And I’m sure it’s not a stranger. It
has to be someone at my school. Look, Anna’s gonna go with me. We’re meeting
the person in a very public place. I couldn’t be any safer than if you were
holding my hand. I promise to text you, okay?”

She purses her lips and studies my face for a long moment.
“Well, okay.”

I squeal and hug her.

“But keep me posted,” she adds. “Because now I’m dying to
know who it is.”

“Me too,” I throw out over my shoulder as I run upstairs to
get ready.

 
 

Twelve-ten. Mystery man is late.

“Maybe he got caught up in traffic,” Anna offers. “You know
how crappy driving in Parma can be.”

“Or maybe he changed his mind.” I lick my lips and glance
around the crowded dome. Families pushing kids in strollers, Amish couples, all
kinds of people wade their way through the damp, warm air of the rainforest.
“Maybe I misunderstood.”

But I didn’t misunderstand. I read that stupid note, like,
five hundred times in the last hour. My heart sinks clear down into my stomach.
I took a chance and it blew up in my face.

“Hey, don’t worry. Please.” She hugs me. “I’m gonna walk
around and see if I recognize anyone from school, okay? I bet the person is
just feeling shy for some reason. Stay right here.” She runs off.

I wrap my arms around my torso and stare at the gigantic
tree, hollowed out so people can wander inside. I feel so very stupid right
now.

“Chrissy,” a familiar voice says from behind me.

I spin around, unable to hide the surprise from my face.
“Curtis? What are you doing here? Are you looking for Anna? Because she—”

He steps close to me, so close I can smell the richness of
his body spray. He looks delicious in dark jeans and a faded black T-shirt.
“I’m not here for my sister.”

That shuts me up. Does that mean…? Did Curtis…? This can’t
be real.

His gaze skitters away. I can see a pulse throbbing
erratically at the base of his neck. Is he nervous? “I’ve been trying for so
long to talk to you,” he says in a husky tone, looking down at his feet. “I
just never knew how. And then you go and bring my sister with you.” He
chuckles, shaking his head.

“What do you want to say?” I blurt out.

He reaches out and takes my hand, his thumb gently caressing
the top. It sends shivers across my skin. “Do you like me, Chrissy?”

“You’re joking, right?” I can barely speak past the lump in my
throat. How can I tell him how I feel about him?

He glances at me. His eyes are so warm, so dark. Then he
smiles, that dimple creasing his cheek. With his free hand he strokes a strand
of loose hair behind my ear. “I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time. But
I figured you only saw me as your friend’s doofy brother.”

Oh, God. Anna. How could I forget about her? I stiffen,
swallow. “I fell for you a long time ago, Curtis. But I have to tell you, I
value my friendship with your sister. I saw how…well, how others made her feel
when they were trying to date you. I won’t treat her like that, even if it
means ignoring what I really want.”

He leans down. “And what is it you really want?”

The breath whooshes out of my lungs. “I really want to kiss
you,” I find myself saying.

A kid runs by us and I lean out of the way, pushing me
nearer to the heat of Curtis’ body.

“Anna set this up, you know,” he says, moving closer,
closer. His lips are no more than a couple of inches from mine. His eyes are
piercing me, seeing everything I’m feeling. Mirroring that longing back.

He wants me. Wow.

Wait—my mind rewinds back to what he said. “Your
sister knows?”

“You two are the most ridiculous people I’ve ever met,” Anna
says, coming out of nowhere, a huge smile on her face.

I turn my eyes away from Curtis and pull back, heat blazing
across my cheeks. “Um, hi, Anna.”

“Do you know how long I’ve watched you guys moon over each
other?” She laughs and gives me a quick hug. “Chrissy, honey—I know how
you feel. And guess what—doofus here feels the same way.”

Curtis shoots her a glare and elbows her in the side. “Knock
it off,” he says hotly.

I laugh. “Okay, so am I the last one to know what’s going
on?”

Anna rolls her eyes dramatically. “Curtis wanted to know the
best way to get your attention. I told him to try flowers. Obviously, I am a
genius.”

Never would I have believed I’d been so transparent…and
missed so many clues. I take his hand, stroking his fingers. “I can’t believe
you like me.”

“I can’t believe
you
like
me
,” he replies.

“And I can’t believe I’m watching this. I’m going to get ice
cream. You two don’t make a baby in front of the children, okay?” With that,
Anna leaves.

Curtis moves closer to me. “Now, where were we?”

I smile. “I think we were talking about what we really wanted.”

His eyes get that sexy half-lidded look again, and he
brushes his mouth across my lips. “That’s right,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Now I remember. I want you to be my girlfriend. By the way, you look very sexy
in that shirt.” He skims my hips, sliding his hands across to my back, his
thumb kneading my lower spine.

I sigh and wrap my arms around his neck. “Thanks. The
flowers were beautiful, by the way. Oh, and as your girlfriend, I have our
first order of business.”

He pulls back slightly to look at me. “What’s that?”

“I’m starving. Let’s make Anna buy the ice cream this time.”
I can’t stop smiling.

“Deal.”

We weave our way through the crowd, hands clasped tightly
together.

 

***

 

Rhonda Stapleton is the author of the
Stupid Cupid
books. Her newest release
Struck, the 3-in-1 volume of the romantic comedy trilogy. Rhonda lives in Ohio
with her husband, two kids, three dogs and a cat. When she's not writing, she's
busy buying foxy shoes, drinking way too much caffeine and singing in the
shower--but not at the same time. Visit her website at
http://www.rhondastapleton.com
for more
information about her and her releases.

Back to Table of Contents

 
 
 

Dating After Dark (With Clowns)

By

Tawny
Stokes

 

As I turned up the Sum 41 tune blaring from the CD, the
speakers rattled in the car door. The stereo system in the new Toyota Matrix
kicked ass. I had to thank Dan for loaning me the car. I didn't ask him when he
got it, mind you, or why he needed it. There are just some things a person just
shouldn't ask a Great Duke of Hell . But I had to have some kind of vehicle to
pick up Aspen. It was our first official date, and I didn't want to come off as
a complete douche with a pocket full of bus fare and a transit map.

I checked Google maps on my iPhone while slowing to a stop
at a four-way intersection. When I accelerated again, there was a definitive
pop in the air and the smell of cigarette smoke filled the car. I glanced in
the rear-view mirror to see Dan lounging in the backseat with a cigarette
dangling between his pale lips. As always.

"You’re going to be late, brother.” He blew a perfect
smoke ring, and it floated toward me with a happy face inside. The face winked.

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