Young Annabelle Series: Young Annabelle, the Truth About James, What My Heart Wants (4 page)

Read Young Annabelle Series: Young Annabelle, the Truth About James, What My Heart Wants Online

Authors: Sarah Tork

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Anthologies, #Teen & Young Adult, #Love & Romance, #Collections & Anthologies, #Sports, #Contemporary

BOOK: Young Annabelle Series: Young Annabelle, the Truth About James, What My Heart Wants
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So this was lunch…..wonderful…not! 

If she wanted to give me a sandwich she should have at least given me two pieces of bread. I didn’t care if it was whole wheat, I just needed
TWO PIECES!

Wasn’t it a sandwich rule to always have two slices of bread?

I sat down on a bench between two rows of lockers. I glanced at the door before diving in to my meal, hoping Jenna would walk through and we could spend our lunch break together. Five minutes passed and she didn’t walk through the doors.

I begin with the worst: the celery. To distract from the awful taste, I
decided to dissect what had happened. I prepared to feel sick and regretful and, most of all, shocked that a cute guy actually wanted to kiss me.

Oh my GOD! What the hell just happened?
I thought as I crunched on the tasteless celery.

His lips wer
e
THIS
close to mine. If I wasn’t such a huge
WUSS
, his beautiful, plump lips would have touched mine.

Did I make the right choice…because right now….it did not seem like it.

At all.

No! I did the smart thing.

I didn’t know him.

How could I kiss a guy I didn’t know?

I wasn’t like that.

I finished the celery and moved on to the carrots
, they were better than celery any day. I continued to dissect as I munched away.

If he wasn’t so tall
, he wouldn’t have had to lean in so much. Meaning, it would have been too late for me to move away. His lips would have been on mine. No doubt about that.

I thought of his lips
. They were lush. They were a vibrant peachy-pink color that glistened whenever he’d lick them. I imagined how they’d feel on top of my own….sweet, warm, sensual, amazing.

Damn!

I finished the carrots and opened the Ziploc containing my half sandwich. As I ate the poor excuse for a sandwich, the realization hit.

H
ow was I going to face him?

And I rejected him.
Damn!
I realized, hitting my forehead with my palm. I didn’t know much about boys. Do boys even handle rejection well?

Ugh-oh!

Shit, shit, shit!

And I wasn’t one of those super pretty girls. What if he wasn’t going to be nice about the whole thing?

What if he decided to make me feel like a loser for turning him down?

Like how dare I?

I should be so lucky that he’d even want to kiss me, even touch me!

All of a sudden it felt difficult to breathe. I gulped down the last bite of my sandwich, it went down like a rock. I glanced at my watch. I had two minutes until my break was over. I had to get a move on or else face the wrath of Shelby for a
third
time. I downed my water bottle and threw it in the recycle bin outside the change room. The nervous butterflies returned with full force.

How am I going to get through this?

CHAPTER
3

 

“Where’s James?” I asked when I noticed Shelby alone inside the lemonade stand, counting change from the till.

She grunted loudly as if I annoyed her then dropped the rest of the coins into the till and closed it. “He’s been assigned to a different sector of the club. Are you going to be okay working alone?”

I nodded.

Shelby narrowed her eyes and gave me a peculiar look. “I hope you’re not sick?”

I shook my head slowly. “I’m not sick.”

Liar! Love sick?
It didn’t make any sense.

Shelby rolled her eyes. “Yeah, then why do you look like you’re about to throw up?”

I looked away and cleared my throat. “My lunch’s making me feel a little funny, but I’ll be okay, it’s going away.” 

Shelby let out a sigh of relief. “Good.” She didn’t want to work my shift if I had to go home sick. She left in haste, probably fearful of any germs I might have been harboring.

I sat on the counter in front of the register. Fifteen minutes ticked by, nobody came. My shift was getting boring, despite the brief excitement I’d experienced earlier.

Really fun, but now that’s over.

No second chance, no kiss with a cute guy…

Why did the world hate me?

I closed my eyes and dropped my head into my hands, resting my elbows on my thighs.

Why did I always ruin everything? Couldn’t I, for once, let things happen? It could have been the best damn thing that ever happened to me!

And now, he’s gone.
The thought ricocheted off the walls of my skull, over and over again, mentally bruising me. I inhaled slowly, hoping it would somehow induce the clarity I needed to move past the awkward moment. I needed a pick-me-up.

I needed a candy bar.

I imagined going home with the feeling that I’d self-sabotaged again. The cherry on the crap-sundae would be the chat with Mom, Dad, Charles, and Katherine. They’d notice my funk, begin questioning me, and then declare I was selfish for not getting over whatever was bothering me. Then they’d all gang up on me and the fight about food would ensue.

‘Looking a little pudgy in the belly, Anna.’

‘How many calories did you burn, Anna?’

God, I hated it.

No. I needed to change my brain waves. So what if I lost my chance, life went on. I breathed deeply, allowing the afternoon air to enter every passageway I had. I slowly raised my head from my hands, blinking away my blurry vision.

Okay!

Yeah!

I feel great!

Ready to take on the world and……..
What just happened?

I sighed, feeling the quick wave of hope dissipate.

So much for the power of positive thinking. 

I felt empty.

I moped for a while longer until I finally got my first customer: an elderly couple. I pasted on a smile and made their drinks. I heard the clink of coins hitting the side of the tip jar. Despite the fake smile, the couple had given me a two-dollar tip.

Enough money for a candy bar
….

*~*~*

 

An hour later, I had wiped down the counters and closed up shop. Shelby had come by shortly after I’d served the elderly couple to inform me that I was closing early and to start cleaning immediately.

Now what am I going to do?
I thought as I grabbed my things and shut my locker.

I was two hours early and that was two hours I did not plan on spending under the careful eye of Mom and Dad. It was unfortunate that they worked from home – they’d set up an office that took up the entire basement. It was rare to get the house to myself these days. If I went home, I’d be run over by a stampede of questions and demands as soon as I crossed the threshold.

Why are you home early?

What time did you eat?

Did you eat all of it?

Show us your calorie watch!

How come it’s that low?

Didn’t you bicycle to work?

Then Mom would have her moment in the sun…

Did you like what I packed?

Doesn’t it feel great knowing you only had about 600 calories until now?

How come you aren’t sweating, didn’t you ride your bike home?

Don’t they have a gym at the club that you could have used?

Isn’t that part of the privileges you get when you work there?

Maybe you should go up and down the stairs five times; you could burn an extra hundred calories!

Your brother and sister are out exercising now, learn from them!

How come you aren’t asking me about tomorrow’s meal plan?

Show me your food diary!

I hope you realize school will be starting in a few weeks… (This one always left me hanging).

We only want you to be healthy; don’t you want to be healthy?

You know, Anna Banana, boys can be cruel.

Doesn’t it make you sad, wearing clothes that size?

And the final dig: Would you like a salad with the dressing on the side for dinner tonight? Going home early did not hold much incentive for me.

What the hell, was there no safe haven for me to go to?

I stared at my reflection in the locker room mirror as I washed my hands. Their comments cut deeply. If I wasn’t in control of my emotions, I would have spent an hour in the bathroom stall sobbing about how unfair life was. But I couldn’t do that, crying would just make things worse. Besides, I’d already come up with a top ten list for how my life sucked:

1: My ass was too big.

2: My parents and siblings thought my ass was too big.

3: I hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks.

4: There was nowhere I could go where there wasn’t a constant spiel about my ‘well-being’.

5: No one understood me, except for Jenna.

6: I didn’t have a boyfriend.

7: I just screwed up with a cute guy.

8: I would never have another chance with a cute guy like James again.

9: I didn’t get paid until Monday and I only had $25 to last me until then.

10: Even if I wanted to catch the attention of a certain
guy
, I had no makeup and my clothes were disgustingly old. (Reminder: go shopping next payday.)

I dried my hands and headed out. I took a detour, forgoing the employee exit and heading straight to the reception desk to have a word with Jenna.

“Hey you,” I whispered when I reached reception.

The chair swiveled around and a giant grin greeted me.

“What’re you doing here?” Jenna asked playfully, her eyes shining brightly.

“It was slow, so Shelby cut my shift a half hour ago,” I explained as my elbows rested on the counter.

“It’s quiet up here too. Anything interesting happen out on the course?” she asked, gently turning her chair from side to side. The club’s reception area was expansive. It had the space for three more pairs of hands to work, but Jenna was alone.


Maybe
,” I teased.

“You need to tell me everything!” Jenna demanded desperately.

I burst out laughing and took a step back, just in case she decided to jump over the counter and pummel me for holding out.

“Jenna!” an authoritative voice declared. Ms. Jones, one of the club’s administration supervisors came barreling out of the membership office in the back, stopping a few feet from her door. “If you could, kindly get back to work!”

“Yeah, get back to work!” I ordered Jenna, failing to keep a straight face.

“How’s this for work!” Jenna laughed as she twirled in her chair like it was a carnival ride.

Floor-crushing footfalls were coming threateningly close, led by Ms. Jones stern call: “Jenna!”

“That’s my cue. Later!” I pushed off the counter and ducked out the door.

I exited through the front entrance and headed toward the bike docks. As I strode over, I thought about my options. I could catch a movie, or get some food (a burger was sounding delicious). Maybe I’d exercise. Riding up and down the hill, was exercise. I could always slip into stalker-mode and search the grounds for James. Or just go to the park and listen to my iPod.

A long shadow stretched over me as I knelt at my bike lock.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said.

I craned my neck to see who it was and my breathing halted.

Second chance!

“Hey.” I stared up at him holding his blue backpack. My eyes widened as I took in his features again, one by one. Somehow I managed to take out my lock and get up.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, doing my best to avoid looking him in the eyes. Having James watching me was wrecking my nerves. I struggled to place the lock back in its holder. It wouldn’t snap in. I got frustrated and my lack of finesse with this one menial task was turning me into a flustered mess.

“Let me,” He offered and slid in front of me, his back grazing my front. His fingers caressed mine as he took the lock from me. My heart went into overdrive. My brown eyes watched him as he easily snapped the lock in place.

He smiled. “There you go.”

I cleared my throat. “Thanks.”

“Are you going home?” James asked.

I nodded.

All of a sudden his eyes narrowed, no longer smoldering.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“No….Well, yeah, there’s something wrong.” He folded his muscled arms across his chest and didn’t continue.

“And that is…”

“Well, Fireball, you didn’t tell me you missed me,” He smirked.

I shook my head in amused disbelief. I turned my bike towards the hill.

“Oh yes, I missed you
so
much,” I told him sarcastically. I could feel him following me.

“The truth comes out. Finally,” James rejoiced, taking two long strides to walk beside me.

Oh, what the hell, I’ve got nothing to do, might as well play a little…

I grinned. “That’s right, Tiger, I missed you loads!”

“I like how that sounds.” He stated.

“What sounds?” I asked.

He suppressed his grin. “The nickname you gave, rolling off your tongue.”

“Well, you gave me a nickname.” I explained.

“That I did.” He smirked.

“Are you going home now?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nah, my dad’s going to pick me up in an hour.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” I said.

“You ride your bike to work, don’t your parents give you ride? These hills are kind of steep.” He asked. 

“My parents don’t believe in driving me places I can ride my bike to,” I explained simply.

“Oh, they’re one of those Green Peace types?” He assessed.

“No,” I replied. “They want me to lose weight.”

Why did I just tell you that?

“That’s stupid,” James replied. “You look fine to me.”

My heart began to race.

I’m
fine, James thinks I’m fine!

My inner pessimist took out her whip and slapped me a few times, telling me to take that sort of compliment with a grain of salt.

“You’re just being nice,” I scoffed.

“No, I’m not. It’s the truth. You look good to me.” He sounded completely sincere.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heating up.

“Nothing to thank me for, it’s just the truth after all,” He told me. “Besides, it’s your parents that are making you feel like this. I sorta know what that’s like… My dad’s a dick.”

“Yeah, my parents are always ruining my mood for no reason.” I decided I’d share with him, since he’d opened up a bit too.

“I bet your parents have nothing on my dad. When I say he’s a dick, he’s
really
a dick,” James exclaimed.

I didn’t fight him on it, not because I couldn’t go toe-to-toe with him on whose parents were the bigger assholes, but because I was hurting – this hill was killing me!

“I’m sorry,” I replied, struggling to breathe as I stopped.

“Here, let me,” He offered, taking the handlebars from me. We grazed again.
Sigh!

“Thanks.” Without the weight of the bike, the hill instantly became easier to climb. But that didn’t stop my thighs and calves from screaming when we reached the top.

I glanced over to James and he was breathing normally, unlike me who was a panting mess. I took my bike from him, thanking him again. I climbed on and looked at him for a moment.

“Can I have your cell number?” I heard him ask me, although the pounding of my heart made it difficult hear.

I blinked. “Sure.”

He pulled his cell from his back pocket and programmed my number into it. He muttered goodbye, then headed back down the hill without looking back.

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