Read The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves Online

Authors: Richard Heredia

Tags: #love, #friends, #fantasy, #family, #epic, #evil, #teen, #exile, #folklore, #storm, #snowman

The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves (27 page)

BOOK: The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves
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A Hello, Of
Sorts

 

 

Sunday, November
21
st
,
10:27 pm…

 

When he thought about it,
after dropping her off at her house and getting a quick peck on the
lips for showing her a good time (and for being a gentleman), the
date hadn’t gone all that bad. In fact, when compared to his last
few dates, it had gone through the stratosphere.

The more he thought about
it, the more he’d begun to realize how much he liked Clarisse. He
found his mind wondering back to her hair, the color of corn stalks
in the autumn, long and curly. He recalled her light blue eyes,
sometimes shining with specks of green in the light of the sun. No
matter what he’d been thinking about earlier, his mind was shift
back to her. She was pretty after all, and it was easy for him to
see why Jason still had a tween-crush on the girl. However
ridiculous it might seem now.

She had a thin face with a
pair of high-set cheekbones, naturally blushed regardless of
emotion. Her face ended in a sort of squarish chin giving her a
feminine, but chiseled cast. She was neither tall nor short, but of
medium height, just over five foot three, which put the top of her
head just below Joaquin’s armpit. He didn’t mind though, he
preferred petite girls to the taller, larger girls, the type that
typically approached him in a more than friendly fashion more often
than not. Her skin was more tanned for a girl who had been born in
the mid-west, but it went well with her hair and her eyes. It made
her look even more exotic in his book. Since winter was almost upon
them and every day this week had been colder than the last, Joaquin
figured she went to a tanning salon. He was unable to picture her,
in her back yard, in a bathing suit, tanning in the chill winds
that had been blowing of late.

Still, though, the good
ole’ Sylvania Tan is doing her justice!
he
mused as he drove down Yosemite Drive toward his parents’ home,
five blocks south of Rockdale Elementary school.

He could still feel her
thin, soft lips on his, the sweet smell of her perfume on his
clothes.

After leaving Jason’s
house, he’d gone back to his place, showered, shaved, brushed his
teeth and ironed his clothes. He’d done his hair next and then
dressed. Heading out the door, he gave his mother a quick kiss (who
told him to behave himself) and his father a wave from across the
living room (who promptly winked and told him to have
good
time, which made
his mother wiggle her finger at the man as she growled in
disgust).

He was out the door, still
grinning at his father’s antics, promptly at 6:00 pm on his way to
pick-up Clarisse. She lived on Addison Way, about a mile from the
house he shared with his parents.

He’d parked, gone up to
her house and knocked, so he could present himself to her parents
as he was taught – always show respect, always be kind, and always
be on time. Clarisse’s father answered the door. A friendly,
middle-aged man with a firm, dry handshake (he’d been thankful,
sweaty palms grossed out Joaquin big-time), and the typical salt
and pepper hair, unshaven, but still well kept. He was dressed in a
pair of tan chinos, a polo shirt of a slightly lighter hue and a
pair of well-worn loafers. To Joaquin, he looked like a man
enjoying his Sunday to the fullest. They exchanged “hellos” with
the usual introductions following as Mr. McIntyre backed up a pace
and let Joaquin into his home. They had only made it through the
foyer when Clarisse came bounding down the stairs. This amazed
Joaquin to some degree, because she was wearing three inch heels
with black, skinny jeans, a flowing black blouse, and a sweater in
the crook of her arm.
Good
balance
, he made himself think, not
wanting to ogle Mr. McIntyre’s daughter right before his eyes. It
took a most valiant effort, because Clarisse looked totally
hot!

I should’ve asked her out
a long time ago
, he remembered thinking.
He knew he’d been missing out – most definitely.

She came up to him and
gave him a quick chaste hug, which for some reason she had to do
standing on one foot. A thing girls sometimes did that Joaquin
could never quite understand. Clarisse’s mother came to the top of
the stairs at that time and said goodbye to them, after she had
smiled at Joaquin, giving him a quick nod of her head. Clarisse’s
father had asked Joaquin where they were going, Joaquin told him to
Glendale to grab a bite to eat at a restaurant on Brand Boulevard
and a movie after. Both places were on the same block.

Then, Joaquin handed
Clarisse’s father a three by five card with the addresses and phone
numbers of both places they were about to go to. He was relieved
when the gesture really seemed to impress the man.
Respect, kindness and
punctuality
, they were three words that
were part of his dating mantra.

Clarisse’s father had told
Joaquin he was grateful and shook his hand again.

Excitedly, they’d
left.

Joaquin took her to the
California Pizza Kitchen. They pigged out on the sort of pizza one
could only buy in California. The chorizo and avocado pie on
ultra-thin crust was one of Joaquin’s favorites. So much so, he
usually ate two at a single sitting. Clarisse was a good date, the
kind of girl Joaquin liked; she scarfed-up almost as much food as
he had, not bashful or shy about eating in front of him in the
least.

Again, he found himself
thinking, why he hadn’t asked her out sooner?

They had sat opposite each
other, eating, laughing, and deepening their relationship for so
long, if Joaquin hadn’t glanced down at his watch (a nervous
habit), they would’ve missed the movie.

He smiled inwardly when he
thought of the movie - titled,
The
Canopy
. It was about a group of tourists
boating up the Amazon River on the vacation of a lifetime - three
couples and four single adults, who from almost the beginning of
the flick were hunted by a demented maniac, known locally as “O
Diabo”, Portuguese for The Devil. It turned out to be no different
from the hundreds of slasher movies Joaquin had seen over the
years. But, what made this one even more fun to watch, was having
Clarisse snuggle close to him during every scary part. There had
been many and, by the middle of the show, he was praising the
person who’d invented stadium seating with removable armrests. That
man, or woman, had to be the greatest genius to have ever walked
the earth. How could he believe otherwise when Clarisse was hugging
him about the chest with one her legs straddling his lap, her face
buried in his side. He had just held onto her, enjoying the feeling
of being protective of her, languishing in her warm embrace, the
press of her fit body up against his.

True to his promise,
though, he didn’t push his luck or try to touch her in any place
indecent, not that he would have anyway, having given his word or
not. He hated the type of guy who always came on too strong or went
for the “homerun” at the slightest indication a girl was interested
in him. He wasn’t a saint, not by any measure. He did like the
feeling of her squishing herself against him. Only, he kept it
cool, under control, knowing she would appreciate it and would come
to trust him in the long run.

When the movie finally
ended and “O Diabo” lay slain after a brutal hand-to-hand,
fight-to-the-death brawl with the last remaining female, Clarisse
had looked up at him, her leg still across his lap and pulled him
toward her and gave him a long, sweet kiss on the lips. They kissed
until the lights came up, until the brightness of the lights made
them both blink rapidly. They broke their lip lock mutually and
stood up hand in hand.

Joaquin recalled her eyes
had misted over, giving them a glossy sort of look. She had stared
back at him, directly into his eyes. He peered back, waiting for
her to gather her thoughts; he could tell she’d been on the verge
of saying something to him.


I like you,” she had
murmured, almost too quiet to hear, but he heard the
words.

He could feel his face
light up despite his attempts to keep things cool, on an even
keel.
Come on now, sailor!
“I like you, too,” he had managed through the
lopsided grin growing on his face all by itself.

Her brow had furled
cutely. “How come we haven’t gone out like this before?”


You know, I’ve been
asking myself the very same question the entire night,” was his
reply. He remembered she’d smiled anew, her eyes going from his own
to his lips, as if she had wanted to kiss him again. He hadn’t
found out, though, because right then someone behind them had
cleared their throat. They both realized they were blocking traffic
as people were now heading for the exits. They’d both muttered
quick apologies and turned to make for the lobby of the multiplex
like everyone else, still holding hands.

After quick bathroom
pit-stops, they made their way out of the huge movie house and to
the parking lot. For the most part, they strode along in silence.
Until Clarisse had given his hand a squeeze and she turned him with
her grasp. They half-facing each other as they walked, Clarisse
adroitly walking backward in her high heels.


I think you should ask me
out,” she had said simply, walking on her toes as if she were
getting ready to dance.

Joaquin chuckled. “I
thought I did already and that’s why were on a date.” His bland
expression had been as ridiculous as his reply.


Joaquin Barrientos, I
think you know what I mean.”


I do?” his face
exaggerated with innocence.

Clarisse had laughed and
skipped a few strides in quick repetition, so that she’d come
before Joaquin, walking backward. “You should ask me, Joaquin,” her
voice had sounded so guileless, his mind seemed to stop
cold.

He looked at her, liking
the fact she’d dressed up for their date. It always surprised him
when some of the girls he’d gone out with in the past didn’t
bother.

To him, Clarisse was the
sexiest thing he had ever laid eyes on. He made up his mind,
though, he wasn’t quite certain if she’d made it up for him. He
reached out, grabbed her other hand, stopping their progress across
the access bridge, spanning the small two-lane street below. The
breezeway led from the building housing the movie theater to the
parking structure.

The virginal cast of her
face melted before his focused gaze.


Will you be my girl,
Clarisse?” he asked allowing genuine emotion fill his
voice.

To his surprise - and
stark embarrassment - she giggled.

He grew cold
inside.

Then, suddenly, she had
reached, forestalling his initial reaction, realizing he’d thought
she was laughing at him. “Of course I will,” she said, one word
piled on top of the other and literally leapt into his arms. She
had hugged him fiercely before she loosened her grip and gave him
another deep kiss he returned in earnest.

When they finally came up
for air and had begun walking again - toward his car - he had
turned to her and asked, “Why did you laugh at first?”


Because, babe, you’re so
formal,” she had begun, tilting her head to one side and tossing
her hair, a very feminine gesture.


Is that a bad thing?” he
had wondered aloud, almost the moment she’d stopped
speaking.


No, no,
don’t get me wrong, it is definitely not a
bad
thing. It’s just rare nowadays,
you know. Most guys would’ve said: ‘So, Clarisse, you wanna get wit
me or what?’. You know, trying to be all hard or tough, but not
you. You asked me the way my dad had probably asked my mom. It just
kinda caught me off guard, that’s all.” She’d been looking up at
him then, her eyes flashing every time they walked under one of the
fluorescent lights.

He recalled he had
mentioned something about the way he’d been raised or something
like that – about the way, his mother and grandmother had always
instilled in him to show respect, to never demean an important
moment by speaking out of turn or in an improper
fashion.

He also remembered
Clarisse’s response.


Well, you paid attention
and now it has paid off. You have me for a girlfriend.” She said
this the very moment she had plopped herself down in the front,
passenger seat of his car. She had reached out to grab him by the
shoulder when he himself had sat in the driver’s seat. “And you
won’t regret it, Joaquin, I promise.”


I promise too,” he echoed
as he pulled her over and kissed her again. “Now, let’s get you
home, so I can make certain I stay on your dad’s good side.
Hopefully, he’ll let me see you again.”


Oh, I think you’ve
already scored huge points with him,” she had concluded.


How so?” he
queried.


That index card thing,
detailing all of the information of our night out, was ingenious. I
think, it literally dropped all of his barriers or defenses -
whatever you wanna call them - in one fell swoop. Once you gave him
that, he was like putty in your hands,” she had explained as he
backed the car out of the parking space and began to wind their way
out of the multi-leveled, parking structure.

BOOK: The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves
12.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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