His Reverie (7 page)

(Oh my God if my parents ever threaten to search my room again like they used to all the time when I was fourteen and boy crazy, I must burn this book forever!)

Michael was with him and I know he likes to joke a lot. I couldn't hear what they were saying but Nick smiled and laughed. And shook his head constantly, which I totally get because Michael can say crazy stuff. I’ve heard him before. Anyway.

Nick’s smile is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. He has nice teeth. And cheekbones. And jaw. I don’t think he shaved this morning. The sunlight would hit him just right and would highlight the golden stubble on his jaw and chin. Every time I thought about his stubble-covered cheek against mine a shiver went through me…

I have it so bad. This crush on him is...crazy. After about an hour of me playing spy, I finally worked up the nerve to go outside in my swimsuit cover-up with plans to take it off and lay on one of the lounge chairs, but I chickened out at the last minute. I skipped right by them like I was five years old, my sandal catching on a lone piece of bark on the concrete and I nearly went sprawling. Like, almost into the pool.

But Nick caught me. His strong fingers curled around my waist, stopping me from falling into the water. I was pressed against him and my skin sizzled where our bodies connected. I felt my face go hot with embarrassment. Then he said to me, his voice all low and deep,

“Better watch it, Daydream.”

I wanted to swoon. Seriously, just fall into a heap on the ground and hope like crazy he’d pick me up again. When he calls me Daydream, I just melt a little inside. It’s the way he looks at me too. As if he likes me. As if he thinks I’m pretty and not some idiot girl who trips over her own feet and can’t even manage to take off her cover-up to show off her boring, ugly, black one-piece swimsuit. The only suit her parents will let her wear.

I couldn't say anything back to him. Not really. Michael was watching us with this amused look on his face. Nick slowly let go of me, his fingers sliding against my skin in an almost caress. I rocked on my feet when he did that, a little shaky breath escaping me.

Then I said thanks and practically ran away from him. I worked up the nerve to look over my shoulder real quick to see if he was still watching me.

And he was.

I wanted to die.

Instead I jumped up and down in victory once I got out of his sight behind the house, punching the air with my fist. Mama caught me, the frown on her face marring her Botoxed forehead as she asked what in the world was wrong with me, direct quote.

She took all the wind out of my sails. She has a way of doing that so easily. I feel like sometimes she doesn’t like me much and I don’t know why. What did I ever do to her? I always follow the rules. I’m a good girl. I’m downright boring, just like they want me to be.

But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

I want to be enough for someone. For Nick. Nicholas Fairfield. I want to be more than enough because I think he could be enough for me.

I know he could.

So there it is. On June 30
th
, somewhere around 10 a.m. on the most perfect summer morning ever, Nick Fairfield touched me. Smiled at me. Called me Daydream.

I want to remember this moment forever.

Faith: confidence and trust in a person or thing.

July 3
rd

I’
m tired and the blowout for the Fourth hasn’t even happened yet. Well, the big one. Tonight is a small party for just the family and a few close friends, which in the Hales’ interpretation, that means about fifty people. It’s Mrs. Hale’s birthday. She’s turning forty so it’s kind of a big deal. I think she wants it to be a big deal but then again…

She doesn’t like it. It upsets her. Makes her feel old.

I only know this because Michael told me. He’s confessed a lot more to me lately. Crazy stuff that I find hard to believe sometimes but he says it so earnestly I kinda have to believe him. I mean…why would he make up shit like that?

And I like that he tells me so much even though I like to give him grief for the way he always talks. I feel like I actually have a friend again.

It’s nice.

He’s regaling me with his latest story at this very second as we’re moving the outdoor furniture around yet again. I swear Mrs. Hale makes us do it just to watch us lift stuff. I think she gets off on being difficult, but she’s not around right now. She’s still getting ready for her party.

I haven’t seen Reverie at all today. I remember how a few days ago she’d walked by the pool, almost tripped and fell in but I saved her. I remember the sensation of her soft skin under my palm nearly doing me in.

I had to act like it didn’t matter. That she doesn’t matter. But she does. I don’t even know her so it’s crazy that I react to her this way.

That was the same day Krista and I did it. Haven’t seen her since either. I kicked her out the minute we finished, which made her mad. I really didn’t care. I was already mad at myself for letting it happen again.

I didn’t see Reverie at all today and I missed her. Missed seeing her smiling face, hearing her voice, catching a glimpse of that sweet as hell body. Though I shouldn’t miss her because she’s not for me. I need to remember my place. And it’s not with Reverie.

Not even close.

“So yeah,” Michael says, warming up with his new story. “It’s Labor Day and that’s when the Hales have their big end of summer party and we’re invited as guests instead of employees, you know? The sun is out, not a cloud in the sky and I’m swimming. We’re all having fun. There’s a barbecue going and the food smells amazing. I’m sneaking in some booze in a flask someone else brought to the party so I’m feeling good. I’m buzzin’.”

“Yeah?” I urge when he stops. He likes it when I encourage him to keep talking. Plus, I can tell this story is gonna be a good one. His talking helps make the time go by fast.

“Uh huh. So I climb out of the pool and I’m dripping water everywhere. I grab my towel off a lounge chair that’s in the farthest corner, right next to the pool room, you know where I’m talking about? Anyway, I’m over there, drying myself off when I feel someone touch my lower back, then fingers curl around the waistband of my trunks and those fingers are practically touching my ass.” His voice lowers and I lean into him, waiting for the big reveal. “I thought it was Brenda, this hot chick who worked here last summer, but it wasn’t. Dude, I was shocked as hell when I turned around ” Michael pauses again, his eyes going wide. He loves the dramatic effect. He’s damn good at it too. “It was Valerie.”

I frown. “Who?”

Michael thumps me on the chest, making me stumble backwards. Asshole. “Valerie Hale, dumbass! The reverend’s
wife.
” He shakes his head. “She ran her nails up and down my back and said I’d filled out over the summer. I mean what the eff? I about leaped out of my skin when she did that. Ran away like a scared little boy with my dick shriveling up faster than you can say cougar on the prowl.”

“Are you saying she hit on you?”

“No, I’m saying she gave me a simple back scratch.” Michael rolls his eyes. “Yes, she was hitting on me! I couldn’t freaking believe it, dude.”

I can’t believe it either. I’ve seen Valerie Hale in action, buzzing around the house and grounds, clapping her hands at us while she yells commands like we’re all her servants. It’s annoying as hell. “Did she ever try and touch you again?”

“Naw, dude. It was my last day of work for the season. I was gone the next day.”

“I’m talking about now. Since you’ve come back this summer,” I say, curious. I keep glancing toward the back of the house. The windows are huge, all of them uncovered and they run the full length of the living and dining room. I saw Mrs. Hale pass by a few times earlier and I want to make sure she doesn’t catch us standing around.

Gossiping about her.

“No, she hasn’t tried anything weird.” Michael smirks. “Caught her checking you out once though.”

Gross. She’s older than Mom. “No way,” I mutter as I lean over and grab the end of a wooden lounge chair. I start dragging it over to the others, not caring that I’m scraping the wood up on the concrete. I’m sick and freaking tired of moving furniture. It’s pointless. She’s just going to make us move it again anyway.

“Dude, let me help you.” Michael runs over to grab the other end of the lounger and helps me heft it over to where Mrs. Hale wants all of them clustered together. “You’re not into cougars, huh?”

“Hell no.” I rest my hands on my hips and glance around, making sure we’ve rearranged everything she asked us to. I want to change the subject. I don’t like the idea of Reverie’s mom hitting on me or whatever. “Don’t tell me we have to stay for the party.”

“Nah. Tomorrow though, we have to. We’re working it till the bitter end so it’s gonna be a long day. No independence for us.” Michael laughs and scratches the back of his head then flicks his chin at me. “You can go. See you tomorrow at eight? Bright and early?”

“Yeah. See ya.” I wave and wander off toward my car. Mom’s car. I want to get rid of it. I’d rather have a truck. Once I get a few more paychecks in my bank account, I think I could sell or trade in Mom’s and buy me a little used truck. Something I can throw all my crap in and use to get the hell out of here at the end of summer. Unless I decide to take some courses at the local community college, but I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet.

I’m going somewhere though. I need to. Not sure where but I don’t want to stay here anymore. I need a fresh start.

I need a new life.

The Hales have designated parking for employees and I walk along the graveled driveway toward the small lot. My car and Michael’s is still there, along with a few others, including Heather’s. She just graduated high school and she works inside the house, as assistant to Mrs. Hale’s assistant, which we all think is hilarious. Michael loves to give her grief for being the assistant to the assistant.

I think Michael is hot for Heather and I can’t blame him. She’s all long limbs and straight dark hair with exotic features. She feeds him snippets of information about the Hales, specifically Valerie Hale. What Heather sees in Michael I don’t know but those two are always flirting. She’s way out of his league.

Just like Reverie Hale is out of mine.

I’m about to turn into the lot when I hear a noise come from the other side of the driveway. Turning, I catch a flash of red, then blonde. My entire body goes still as I watch someone run into the thick pine trees that line that side of the property.

It’s Reverie.

Without thought I take off, hoping to catch up with her. The sun is low, casting beams of saturated gold light through the thick pine trees and if I look toward my left, I’m blinded. There are so many trails here I don’t know which one she took and so I head down the middle one that goes straight through the trees.

She’s fast. I don’t see her anywhere and I run for a while then stop, looking all around me. I try to calm my breathing, my racing heart. I’m worried that I can’t find her. My gut tells me she’s upset and I want to know why.

I want to be the one who reassures her.

A breeze rustles through the pines, the branches swaying to and fro and I glance to my right. I see her, her long hair trailing behind her as she jogs through the trees. I follow her, thankful I can keep her in sight, slowing down when I see she is as well. The trees give way to an open spot and I watch as she drops to the ground, disappearing from view.