Just a Little (5-8) (22 page)

I nodded slowly and looked down at the ground.

“So…” he let a long breath pass through his slightly parted lips, and his breath tickled my skin, “is that a yes or a no?”

CHAPTER THREE

Wednesday, June 05

I’d dismissed myself from the table with every intention of going straight home and climbing into bed. Of course, the last thing I really wanted was to close my eyes, fall asleep, and wake up drenched in buckets of sweat, but I needed rest.

But after Luke surprised me with his question, one I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear, everything changed. I gave him a quick, sheepish answer and found myself walking away from him, clutching the key-shaped necklace I wore around my neck.

I wandered the streets slowly, not in any kind of hurry to get home.

My mind kept replaying the nights I’d shared with Luke at the cabin. Things had been so rough at first. He’d seemed to want nothing to do with me; his focus was firmly fixed on one thing: sticking to his orders and keeping me safe.

But as days went by, Luke opened up. We talked. We communicated. For the first time in probably ever, we’d found a way to get through to one another. He’d expressed himself, and I’d listened. And vice versa.

We’d had moments, little moments here and there that gave me hope: the way he’d nurtured my wound after I cut my hand, the drive-in theatre, learning that he’d trusted me enough to give me something that had belonged to his mother.

I clutched the necklace even tighter as I continued through the center of town.

As much as I’d wanted to believe everything he’d said and done back at the cabin, I hadn’t been sure what to believe. I thought his honesty had only been something he’d offered up to relieve the boredom or to keep us both from going insane. I’d truly wondered if Luke would go back to his normal, distant self the moment we arrived back in Oakland.

He hadn’t.

Again, I clutched the necklace.

What a gesture.

I recognized what it meant for him to hand the necklace to me, to trust me with something that meant everything to him. Even though I’d recognized the magnitude of his gesture, I hadn’t told him so.

I knew there was only one way I could ever repay him, to really show him that I loved and trusted him as much as he loved and trusted me.

My thoughts came to an abrupt halt as I turned the corner of Winston and Barkley and saw Kara coming out of the dry-cleaners. She carried a plastic garment bag over her shoulder, and I could only assume that the overstuffed bag was filled with the red, strapless, sequined gown she’d worn to prom a couple weeks earlier.

I picked up my pace as she placed the dress in the backseat of her car.

“Kara!” I called loud enough to get her attention.

She looked up and caught my eye, opened her door, and got inside the car.

“Kara, please,” I jogged a little faster. I stopped outside the passenger’s side door and knocked on the window. She sat perfectly still, looking straight forward.

“I have nothing to say to you, Julie.”

“Kara, I’m sorry,” I said, not really sure why I was apologizing. I’d deal with the details later. I just needed her to focus on
one
thing—talking to me. “Please talk to me.”

She gnawed on her bottom lip, and then she threw her seat belt off. She opened the door, climbed out, and then slammed the door shut behind her. She powered toward me with her tiny index finger outstretched.

“Your—cousin—is—an—idiot!” she yelled, and I took a few steps back on the sidewalk. “Who—does—he—think—he—is?”

“I don’t know, Kara. What did he do?”

“What did he do?”
she asked, and her face twisted.

If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve guessed that she expected me to already know the answer to that question.

I looked over my shoulders before lowering my voice. “Did he cheat on you?”

“Ha!” She threw her arms in the air, and I backed away yet again. But Kara barely gave me an inch to breathe. Every time I backed away, she stepped a little closer. I suddenly found myself backed against the dry-cleaners’ building. “I
wish
he’d cheated on me!”

“You wish he’d cheated on you?” I probably sounded as dumbfounded as I felt.

“You—said—he—got—a—second—job—to—help—pay—for—college!” she yelled, and she jammed her finger into my shoulder with every enunciated syllable. “You lied to me!”

“Whoa,” I swatted her hand away. I rubbed my shoulder for a second, no doubt it was going to bruise, and stared at her. “Why are you mad at
me
?”

“You know Matt goes to the same gym as my cousin Jaden?” she planted both of her hands on her hips.

“No, but I’m not sure that’s relevant?”

“Your cousin took locker room discussion to a whole new level last week,” Kara said, grinding her teeth. “Jaden overheard Matt telling all of his friends about how he planned to further our relationship this summer. He told them, all those disgusting, mindless boys, about his grand plan, and he didn’t even bother to run it by me first!”

“Uh…?”

“He told them—
right in front of my cousin
—that he planned to propose to me!
Propose
, Julie! He was going to ask me to marry him!”

“Uh,” I said again because a guttural sound was about all I could muster. “How dare he?”

“
Yes
!” she screamed. “I’m seventeen, for God’s sake! I still have another year of high school!”

“Kara,” I reached forward to control her flailing arms. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at me. “Mattie loves you. He just wants you to know how much he cares.”

“Then tell him to buy flowers,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to get married.”

“No one said you had to.”

“But that’s what he expects,” she shoved my arms away from her. “All I wanted was to talk to him, to tell him that I’d heard about his plan, and to ask him to call it off. I told him marriage was out of the question, that we were just too young.”

I thought back to the argument Charlie and I had purposely overheard.

Their muffled words made a lot more sense when I realize she’d been saying they were
too young
for
marriage.

“I told him I needed time,” she said. “
A lot
of time. I want to graduate high school and go to college. I want to travel the world, meet new people, experience life, you know? All I wanted was for him to understand that there are a million things I want to do before I agree to spend the rest of my life with one person. I mean, he was just a stupid high school boyfriend! That’s all he was!”

“Wow,” I nodded once, “you told him that?”

“Yes!”

God, no wonder he was so hurt. He’d spent the last four months working himself to the bone to save money to buy the girl an engagement ring. He’d had his heart set on proposing to her, marrying her, spending the rest of his life with her! And she saw him as nothing more than a
stupid high school boyfriend
?

“What did he say when you told him that?”

“He told me to leave,” Kara said, and her eyes filled with tears again. “Can you believe that?”

“Well, yeah,” I shook my head in disbelief. “That was a cold-hearted thing for you to say to someone who loves you. What he told his friends, Kara, was nothing for him to be ashamed of. He wasn’t bragging or boasting. He was
sharing
. I mean, yes, you can be angry about finding out the way you did, but you
can’t
think you’re entitled to treat him like crap. He loves you, Kara. He wants to share his life with you.”

“
I don’t care
,” she shook her head. “His expectations are unreasonable, Julie, and I deserve more than that! I
shouldn’t
have found out like that!”

“Kara,” I reached forward, but she smacked my hand away.

Great, another bruise.

“I can’t believe you knew about this and didn’t tell me. Some friend you’ve turned out to be.”

“Now, come on,” I let go of what little restraint I had. “That’s not fair! He asked me not to say anything, and I promised I wouldn’t. I—kept—my—word! He’s my cousin, Kara.
My best friend!
What was I supposed to do?”

“Goodbye, Julie,” she turned away. “Do us both a favor and never talk to me again.”

Wednesday, June 05

“
I don’t want to talk about it
,” I said, not giving Charlie the opportunity to ask why I’d just slammed the front door. He lowered his book, removed his reading glasses, and watched as I stomped up the stairs.

Halfway to my room I could’ve sworn I heard him mumble something about the joys of raising two teenagers.

I paced across my bedroom floor for at least ten minutes. Back and forth, back and forth. Every now and then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and once or twice I even rolled my eyes at my own stupidity.

God, I was angry!

The problem was I didn’t know
why
I was angry.

Was it because I’d kept a huge, life-altering secret from a friend? Was she right?
Should
I have told her? Should I have said something to prepare her for what was coming? Or had I done right by Matt by keeping his secret?

Was I angry because I’d just stood there defenselessly, letting her berate me? I’d let someone, someone who’d claimed to be my friend, yell at me and make me feel like I was six inches tall.

Maybe it was because I’d let her ruin what should’ve been one of the happiest days of my life?

Luke had asked me to be his girlfriend, for crying out loud!
After all this time… after everything we’d been through…

I could’ve killed Kara for ruining it.

After taking a few more minutes with some deep breaths—
count to ten, Julie, count to ten
—I stomped out of the bedroom and stopped short of Matt’s door. I could hear him inside, and I was certain he was crying.

But it was Matt, and Matt never cried.

I took a deep breath and knocked on his door. He didn’t answer, so I didn’t pry. The last thing I needed was for him to start cursing or throwing things at me again. And honestly, for once in my life, I didn’t feel like it was my place to ask questions. Nothing I could say would make him feel any better. If anything, I’d probably only make things worse.

I headed for my room, but a string hanging from the center of the ceiling grabbed my attention and stopped me dead in my tracks.

Looking over my shoulder as if I was about to do something wrong, I reached up, took the string in hand, and with a little bit of force revealed the rickety staircase to the attic, where Charlie had stored most of Mom and Dad’s belongings. I climbed the small steps until I reached the third level of the house.

It was the first time I’d gone up there to see a lot of the old stuff that used to fill our two-story brick home back in West Bridge.

No one ever said I wasn’t allowed in the attic… I just never assumed it would be okay.

I’d made a decision earlier—just before I’d run into Kara—and I needed to keep my mind focused.

That’s just what I intended to do.

So, I searched.

I spent a while looking around, sifting through some of my parents’ old things. Most of it was probably junk we could’ve thrown out months ago, but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to climb those stairs, let alone to come up and toss anything—not even Mom’s expired coupons or Dad’s holey socks (and Dad had
a lot
of holey socks).

Though I’d gone up to the attic with a mission to find Dad’s cedar box, I didn’t mind the many distractions I found as I sifted through dozens of crates, hundreds of boxes, and even a shoebox full of unorganized knick-knacks.

At the front corner of the room was Mom’s wedding trunk, and I didn’t have to open it to know what I’d find inside. Along with her scrapbook, picture albums, and keepsakes, I’d find her wedding dress. I lifted the lid anyway to find it—the simple, white, A-line gown she’d worn on the day she married my father. How it hadn’t collected years of dust, dirt, and stains I’d never know. I was certain that it was just as beautiful now as it was the day she bought it.

I pulled it from the trunk and lifted it to my body, certain that it would fit perfectly and fall just below my knees. But I couldn’t know; Mom had never let me try it on. She wanted me to save it for my own special day.

I didn’t let myself admire the dress for too long; I didn’t need to bring myself to tears. I had enough to worry about without letting memories of my parents flood my mind. I folded her gown exactly the way I’d found it and tucked it safely back inside the trunk.

I turned away from the wedding mementos and sifted through some old boxes nearby. It was shortly after I started digging around the attic entrance that Charlie poked his head through the opening.

“Hey, Pumpkin,” he watched me with wide eyes. “Looking for something?”

I ignored the question for only a moment, but then I turned back to my uncle with a puzzled expression.