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Authors: Elle Jefferson

Wishful Thinking (9 page)

BOOK: Wishful Thinking
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Good I wasn’t in the mood for a feelings conversations. Girls were good at dissecting your emotions and twisting them until somehow you were upset with them. You know since you were mad about losing a game, you blamed her which made you an asshole because clearly it wasn’t her fault. No matter how you argued it there was absolutely no way that you were upset about the game and nothing more.
 

“I’m sorry,” Claudia said after several minutes of silence, “I should never have said anything in front of your friends. It was lame.”

“Whatever, it was bound to come out sometime.” I took another swig of rum hoping to warm myself from the inside out. “I’m trying to figure out if my bad luck around you is coincidence or if it’s you."

She settled in closer to me. “I’m not a jinx, you’re just a klutz."

I started playing with the bottle of Bacardi rolling it around in the sand. “You might be right.”

“Summer’s your girlfriend, right? Like you two are a couple?"

I pulled my coat tighter around me but it did little against the cold. Instead I took a swig of rum. “Yep.”
 

“Does it bother you the way guys hang all over her?"

“Yep.” I shivered as the rum hit the back of my throat.
 

“Then why don’t you do something?"

“What should I do? Act like a possessive jerk? Should I thump my chest and tell her who her friends can be?”

“Okay, point taken … so.”

“So, why do you care?”

"I don’t, just making an observation,” she said and let our silence return.
 

Now I was annoyed. It was her turn to squirm. “So I know why I’m over here, but why are you?" I asked.

"I don’t really do parties and you’re like the only person I kind of know."

"And here I thought it was my charm and wit."

"You’re not really my type."

"I’m sure Nate will be happy to hear that."

"Nate? He’s even less my type. No offense I know he’s your friend but he’s a bit full of himself."

“Offense? Surprised you noticed. Most girls don’t until it’s way past late.”
 

“What’s the story with Dean?" she asked
 

“Dean? What about Dean?"

“Is he single?"

I couldn’t help it I started to laugh. “Good luck with that."

She turned to elbow me, “Why are you laughing? Am I that awful to look at?" I laughed harder. "Wow, thanks for the confidence boost."
 

She was insulted. Seeing the wounded look on her face made me stop laughing.
 

“It’s not you. I’ve just never—girls never ask about Dean, that’s all."

“He’s so smart and nice and totally hot, I’m probably too stupid for him."

“I’m going to let you in on a secret, outside of book smarts he’s not that bright." She looked over to the bonfire at Dean. He was talking to a few other rugby players laughing and making faces, probably talking about some new math theory. “If you ever hope to go out with him you’ll be doing all the asking. He’s not that into girls—wait that came out wrong, I mean he’s not into dating or being social. It’s kind of weird that he’s here tonight.”
 

Dean's lack of girlfriends, at one time, was attributed to him being gay.
 
Even I started to question it. Not that he was über stylish or effeminate, but he didn’t pay attention to girls the way the rest of us did. I’ve known him for over eleven years now and I know he’s not. He’s actually slept with more girls than me. But he’s to determined to make the future he envisions a reality and “Girlfriends get in the way of that,” as he would say. Besides, Dean doesn’t care what anyone thinks.
   

I asked, "So where are you from?"
 

"Poughkeepsie."

"I guessed Jersey."

"Nope, Yorker through and through."

“What in the world did your family come all the way from New York to Maine for?" Don’t get me wrong I had nothing against where I was from but New York seemed far more exciting.

"There in the Noneya business," she said and smiled.

I walked right into it, "What’s that?"

"None of your business."
 

"Got me there."
 

This was the longest conversation I’d had with a girl who I wasn’t getting something from. I started playing with my jacket zipper. Claudia played with her hands.
 

We both stared up at the sky.
 

“Do you––

“Do you––
 

We both started at the same time.

“Sorry go ahead,” I said.
 

“It’s just, do you think there are little green men in spaceships out there watching us?”

I couldn’t help it I laughed. I was thinking the same thing. “If they are watching they have to be bored out of their mind or stupider than we are.”

“Intelligent beings hardly,” she said and laughed.

After we both calmed I thought I’d take another stab at her family dynamic. She had a calming affect on me and I liked talking to her it was sort of like talking to Dean. No pressure.

“Your dad seems …" I started to say and stopped.
 

"What? Nice? Cool?"

I shook my head, and went with a less obvious way of saying scary, “Committed.”

“He’s a bit protective especially after my mom left."

“Do they share you?" I asked.
 

She sniffled or something, "No, my mom took off don’t know where and I guess my dad is worried I’ll do the same.”

Seemed unlikely. A guy who let his daughter out alone in the middle of the night couldn’t be too worried about her running off. I was a guy and it took quite a bit of persuading on my part to get my dad to allow me out in the early morning to exercise. Hence how I ended up with a cell phone and the rule I had to answer all of his calls, not that he called that much. Those were two things my dad had zero tolerance for, being late without calling and going somewhere without telling him. He never once freaked if I came home at midnight instead of eleven as long as I called––and I learned to do both religiously.
 

The one time I didn’t call and missed curfew my dad freaked. Scared me so bad I never did it again. It was during freshman year. Nate was having one of his my-parents-are-gone-again parties. It didn’t take much coercing on my part to get my dad to let me go. Of course he gave the typical parental warnings––don’t drink you’re not twenty-one, don’t do drugs––etcetera, etcetera. I did drink, but not a lot. I won’t lie one beer back then pretty much toasted me. The problem came when two o’clock in the morning rolled around and I was sort of passed out in one of Nate’s upstairs guest rooms without calling my dad.
 

I was awoken by a loud billowing scream downstairs. Yelling continued to grow louder and closer, bringing me out of my drunken stupor. The door to the room I was staying in flew open and my dad stood there. He flipped on the light and my true embarrassment started.
 

My dad’s not a bad looking guy for a man in his forties, but he was wearing a robe and slippers and the look on his face frightened me more than his manner of dress embarrassed me. Nate came huffing up behind my dad followed by a few of the kids who were still partying. He grabbed me by my shirt and rushed me from the house. The minute we got to his car I expected him to let me have it, but he didn’t instead he put both arms around me and hugged me for like ever.
 

I got grounded for a month, my allowance taken, Nate’s parents were informed and by the end of the week the whole school heard of the fiasco. Worst part wasn’t even the teasing from other kids for months following the incident it was the fear in my dad’s eyes. When he finished hugging me there were wet spots on my shirt from him crying. My dad isn’t big on tears. There is less than a hand full of times I can recall seeing him cry. Most of those times we were at funerals; grandpa Jojo’s, Ya-Ya’s, and my mom’s.
 

Even though I think he overreacted, it showed he cared and made me able to handle his less than stellar opinion of me. Needless to say his reaction that night, still haunts me and I have never missed a curfew since. When I’m running late I call, always, but I still wonder what made him freak like that.
 

 
"What about you," Claudia said bringing me back to our conversation, "your parents still together?"

"No."

“It sucks doesn’t it,” she said biting her nails.
 

"It’s getting late, I better go find the guys.”

"Yeah, okay," she said getting up with me. Damn I just couldn’t shake her.

Claudia finally left my side when I went looking for Summer who wasn’t hard to find. She had moved on from the soccer girls and was hanging with Emily, Caleb and … Trevor.
 

 
Trevor was standing right next to her. Far to close for my liking. As always he was telling a story. Damn he talked too much, of course, everyone was laughing along with him. Please. I’d heard a few of Trevor’s stories and the guy wasn’t funny.
 

When I walked up, Summer threw her head back and laughed knocking into my chest. I brushed my hand down her back before wrapping my arms around her waist. I pressed my lips to the back of her neck and she stopped laughing and tensed up.
 

“Hey, babe," I whispered in her ear and then kissed the skin behind her ear.
 

She sighed and settled into my arms.
 

“James, didn’t know you were here, haven’t seen you all night," Trevor said.
 

“Making the rounds," I said. I gave Summer another kiss on her cheek and rested my chin on her shoulder. She placed her hands over mine.
 

“Heard about rugby. Man that sucks. Suspended indefinitely?”

“Yeah, I know, now the only sports to watch are the pansy ones like basketball." Trevor and I did a stare down and then he smirked when he glanced at Summer. He had no shame.
 

“You ready to go?" I asked her.

Emily swayed, swishing her beer on me. "The party’s barely started."
 

"And you’re already drunk,” I said.
 

Emily stuck her tongue out at me, "Party pooper."

Nate, Dean, Kyle and Claudia walked over then. Nate looked from me to Summer to Trevor then his eyes stopped on Emily. "We’re taking off, you guys ready?" Nate asked.
 

"Yeah," I said.
 

"I’m not ready to go," Emily said.
 

Claudia was standing next to Dean biting her nails.
 

Trevor took a sip from his soda. "I’ll take Emily home," he said, “DD for tonight.”
 

"All right, it’s settled let’s go," Nate said.
 

I took Summer’s hand to follow everyone. “I need to keep an eye on her," Summer said, "make sure she gets home."

I didn’t like the way Trevor was smiling, or what he said next. "No problem I’ll take you both home."

"You sure?” The question was directed at Trevor but I was looking at Summer.

“It’s fine,” Trevor said.
 

“See,” Summer said and let go of my hand, “I’d like to stay.” She turned and put her arm around Emily, "Come on." They both walked over to the further bonfire away from Trevor.
 

"It was good to see you guys," Trevor said and turned to follow after Summer and Emily.
 

A part of me wanted to go over there, yell at Summer and tell her she was leaving with me. Another part of me, the one who hated confrontation, avoided it at all costs, was saying, “It’s over, let her go. No need to embarrass yourself.”

I caught up with the rest of the group. Claudia hung back and asked, “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I hurried to get to my car.

Saturday morning I had an appointment with Dr. Patterson. A desperately needed appointment. Between my nightmares, the strange vision I’d seen when Claudia clocked me, rugby being suspended, and my dad’s mercurial attitude towards me as of late, I needed to talk.
 

I drove my dad’s Lexus LX instead of my Jeep to my head shrinking appointment. See, Dr. Patterson’s office was a block away from Crestview and there was no way anyone was going to see my car pulling into a head doctor’s parking lot. I pulled my hat low as I walked quickly to her office.
 

The receptionist desk sat unmanned and the waiting room empty. Dr. Patterson was standing behind the reception desk going over a calendar when I entered. She peered up at me over the tops of her glasses when the door snapped closed behind me.
 

 
“James, you’re early.”

“Wanted to get this over with, busy day.”

She scratched her head, furrowed her brow and returned to looking at her calendar, “Well then come on back.”
 

She ushered me through the saloon doors and down the hall to her office. I sat down on a plush couch which faced away from the window. She rummaged through her desk, grabbing her pen and notebook before sitting down in the leather wing-back chair across from me.
 

BOOK: Wishful Thinking
12.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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