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BOOK: Lucy in the Sky
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I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, and I took a couple of deep breaths and then I remembered what Marty said in yoga this morning about trying to meditate and how to focus on the breath, so I sat down on the floor and crossed my legs like Marty does in front of class, and I closed my eyes and took really deep breaths and tried not to think about Nate. I could do it for about 5 breaths at a time, but then I'd see that
line with the dimple in it behind my eyelids, and then the rest of his right-angle jaw would appear and I'd see a triangle fill in the space on his face.

I mean, it's really no big deal. My dad is two years older than my mom. Nate's only 18, and I'm 16, and it's not like he would be robbing the cradle or anything.

I think I really like him.

OMG I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT NATE IS COMING TO DINNER ON SATURDAY.

July 8

I was just standing in my mirror trying on a couple of different options for tonight. I passed my driver's test and got my license yesterday (YAY! OMG. Finally!), then Dad and I went shopping on the Promenade. I'm a really good bargain shopper. Cam worked at the Gap last summer and taught me to never EVER pay full-price for anything 'cause they just mark it down every two weeks. Primary, secondary, clearance. Primary, secondary, clearance. Every week on Tuesday night the markdowns would come through from the home office, and we'd all run around with those price-tag guns the next morning, marking down tops that some poor dope had paid $20 more for 12 hours ago. So, anyway, I got a lot of great stuff. Even Dad was surprised with how many items I got for $100. Well, then I splurged a little and added $40
from my savings to get these supercute sandals that I'd been wanting.

Anyway, I have all this stuff to try on, and I felt myself doing that thing I do where I put on, like, 12 different outfits and stand there and pick every single one of them apart, and I end up standing in front of the mirror in my underwear with this pile of really cute clothes with the tags still on them lying on the floor. I had just put on the second skirt I bought and could tell I was about to find something wrong with it, and then I just stopped, looked at myself, and thought: Don't be that girl.

I just don't want to be that chick who is always staring at herself in the mirror whining about how she looks and having a meltdown in the fitting room. I mean, I'm not a model or anything, but I think I look okay. I have already showered and straightened my hair. It's not frizzy or even curly really—just has some waves, and when you live this close to the waves it can get wavy. (God. Stupid joke.) Whatever, I stepped away from the mirror and saw my journal sitting on my desk, and I thought I'd write about it. I mean, this is a feeling. I'm not sure what kinds of feelings I'm supposed to be writing about in here, but maybe this is what crazy Marty the bird lady was talking about.

I'm SO EXCITED about Nate coming over and I want to look really hot, but the excitement also feels like nervousness, like I'm going to barf or something. Mom is downstairs putting
a marinade on some shrimp that she's going to have Dad grill, and the smell when I walked through the kitchen made me feel like I was going to hurl up my toenails—and I LOVE shrimp.

I know I look good in this skirt. Dad told me it looked “far out” when I came out of the dressing room to check it out in the mirror. He said this in his I'm-being-a-little-too-loud-so-the-other-people-present-will-hear-me-and-think-I'm-hilarious-when-really-I'm-just-torturing-my-daughter voice. I told him to please be quiet and offer his opinions only regarding possible escape routes in the case of a fire, or a random stampede of wild bison. In all other matters, I respectfully asked him to please refrain from speaking to me until we had reached the cash wrap.

I looked in the mirror again just now. This skirt totally works.

Weird how excited and scared feel like the same thing.

July 8—11:30 p.m.

I shoulda known.

I shoulda known when he walked up the front steps with flowers and handed them to Mom.

But he brought me a card with a joke about having pi on my birthday instead of cake (guh-rooooan) and it had a $25 gift card for iTunes in it. Which was cool and so sweet of him, but he just signed his name. Shoulda known when he didn't
write anything personal. Just “Happy B-Day! Nate.”

But he was really funny and sweet at dinner. He sat across from me and told us all this hilarious story about when he was growing up in Nebraska and he and his brother raised sheep for the county fair. (Yes. Apparently people still raise animals and take them to fairs where they win ribbons and titles and scholarships. Thank you, CHARLOTTE'S WEB.)

One morning he and his brother went out to scoop food out of these big 25-pound sacks of feed for the sheep, and there was a mouse in one of the bags that ran up his little brother's jacket sleeve. He was telling us about how he thought his brother had been possessed by a demon because he kept screaming and shaking his arms and beating at his chest and running around in a circle while the mouse wriggled around inside his shirt. We were all crying, we were laughing so hard, and Cam almost inhaled a bite of shrimp, which sent him on a coughing fit that made the rest of us laugh even harder.

He jumped up and helped me clear the table when Mom asked who wanted dessert. When Mom told him he didn't need to do that, he smiled at me and said, Oh yes, ma'am, I do. My mama'd fly in from Grand Island and smack me if I didn't.

When we were in the kitchen, I started rinsing plates and he loaded them into the dishwasher like he lived here. We were laughing and joking around and no one mentioned geometry.
He was so easy to talk to, easy to be near. I didn't feel nervous even once. I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like if we were married and this was our house and we were loading the dishwasher together. That's probably stupid, but it made me feel hopeful inside, like maybe something like that was possible.

When Nate bent over to put the final plate in the dishwasher, a necklace fell out of his shirt. It had a tiny key on it, and I was about to ask him where he got it, but Mom came into the kitchen to get some coffee mugs and the French press. Nate tucked the necklace back into his polo before I could ask him about it, but I shoulda known.

There's a long porch on the back of our house that looks over the bottom of the canyon out to the water. We ate dessert out there. Dad lit the candles in the big lanterns on the table outside. Cam sat next to Nate and they talked soccer. The flicker made their skin glow like they were on the beach at sunset. Nate looked all sun-kissed and happy. I felt a foot nudge mine just for a second under the table and my heart started racing. I was glad that it was just the candles outside in the dark 'cause I started to blush like crazy. I thought maybe Nate had touched my foot, and I kept sliding mine a little bit closer toward him under the table, but his foot never touched mine again.

It was almost 10 when he pulled out his phone and checked it, then said, Whoa. I gotta go.

I felt really bummed all of a sudden, and then silly. What was I hoping? That he'd stay and walk me down to the beach? He stood up and shook my dad's hand, then gave Cam one of those weird hugs that guys give each other where they grab hands like they're gonna shake and then lean in and hug with their arms caught in between them. He kissed my mom on the cheek and told her what a good cook she was.

Then he looked right at me and said, Will you walk me to my truck?

I got so many butterflies in my stomach, I thought they might start flying out of my ears. I said SURE, and realized that nobody had really heard him ask that because Mom was pouring more wine and Dad was pouring more coffee and Cam was texting somebody. So I slipped into the house and out the front door.

He'd parked on the street, and when he got to the door of his pickup, he leaned against it and looked up at the sky and said, Huh.

I said, What?

He told me that in Nebraska at this time of night you could see lots of stars. I followed his gaze up to the sky, but I knew there wouldn't be any stars. Out here, the sky just glows this weird purply color even on the darkest night here. It's the light pollution bouncing off of the marine layer, I said. It's what
happens at night when 8 million people get jammed up against the ocean. I turned around and stood next to him with my back up against the truck.

He said it was funny how you always hear about all the stars in Los Angeles, but at night in Nebraska, it's like the sky is covered with diamonds. Then he looked over at me, and I don't know what happened, but I just knew that I had to feel his lips on mine. So I leaned in and kissed him.

Nate jumped like I'd shot him with a taser. He said, WHOA, what are you doing? OMG! I was SO EMBARRASSED I couldn't even LOOK at him. It was like we were having this PERFECT night, and then BLAM-O: I broke the spell. I was blushing and stammering and then I felt the tears come to my eyes, and I didn't wait. I just sprinted back across the street toward the house. I was not going to let him see me cry.

As my foot hit the curb on the other side of the street, he said WAIT!

There was something in the way he said it that made me turn around. And then he shook his head and smacked his forehead, and he walked over to me, and just looked at me. He pushed my hair over my shoulder and said, No. I'm sorry.

He told me that I had come along two years too late. And that I was beautiful. And that he has a girlfriend.

I shoulda thought about that. I shoulda never invited him to dinner tonight.

I shoulda known.

July 10

Thank GOD I don't have a session with Nate this week 'cause of the midterm. I would never date a guy who drives a stupid pickup truck.

ALSO? He's a total liar. I am plenty of things, but I am not beautiful.

July 13

Took the geometry midterm in summer school today. I think I did okay. We don't have class again until Monday. Only 4 more weeks to go, then I finally get a stupid month off.

[Sad trombone … ]

July 14

Cam and I got to go to the 1 p.m. yoga class today because I didn't have geometry. Usually I am in class until noon, and it's too rushed to go to Marty's 1 p.m. class, so we go to the 3 p.m. class. Of course, Cam always gets up early to run so that he stays in shape for soccer. Practices start way before school does and
he always says that the only thing that sucks worse than two-a-days in July is two-a-days in July when you didn't run in June.

There's a whole different crowd at Marty's 1 p.m. class. I was not expecting that. It totally changes the feeling in the room. This class had more guys in it and a crazy lady who musta been like 45 years old who was wearing only her bra and some bicycle shorts—and not like a sports bra. She was wearing just a regular old ivory-colored bra. Lace on the cups. Underwire. In yoga. Like it was no big deal. I wanted to pull her aside and be like, um, okay. I know you probably don't understand that there's a difference between a regular bra and a sports bra because they cover about the same amount of skin and all that BUT. THERE. IS.

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

July 15

I almost didn't go back to the 1 p.m. class with Cam today.

I'm really glad I did, though. And I know how this is going to sound before I even write it down, but fine: YES. It's because of a boy. There. I said it. I'm becoming one of those starry-eyed, dewey-cheeked bimbos. I can't help it.

I was staring at Crazy Bra Lady (today's bra was black) while we were doing side planks and I noticed this guy watching me watch her in the mirror. He was about my age and had longish brown hair that was kinda shaggy, but cool shaggy not
gross shaggy, and he was really tan. When I saw him looking at me, he got this little smile, like he knew a secret about me.

After class, Cam went into the bathroom to change shorts and I was waiting outside on the sidewalk, watching Crazy Bra Lady unlock her bike. She'd put on a big T-shirt that had the neck cut out of it so it hung off one shoulder. As I watched her pedal away, I heard this voice behind me say, She is totally wackadoodle.

When I turned around, it was shaggy brown hair guy who flipped his bangs out of his eyes and said, Hey, I'm Ross.

I told him my name, and he got that little smile again. I said, What? Do you know something I don't know? And he was like, Maybe.

I said, You gonna keep it a secret?

He grinned at me and said he was just hoping I'd be back. He said, I saw you yesterday but you and your boyfriend left before I could say hi.

I frowned at him and said, My boyfriend? right as Cam walked out the front door with his yoga mat slung over his shoulder and said, You have a boyfriend?

Ross frowned and said, Oh. Then … who are you?

Cam frowned and said, Who are YOU?

Finally I pointed at Cam and said BROTHER, then pointed at Ross and said ROSS.

Boys are so weird.

Cam and Ross shook hands and then we went to get smoothies and Cam gave Ross the third degree during which we learned:

 

1. Cam should play a detective on CSI.

2. Ross is 16 years old like me.

3. Ross just moved here from Florida.

4. Ross's mom got a job as an associate events manager at this big resort hotel on the beach.

5. Ross can go hang out at the pool at the hotel when his mom is working.

6. Ross has A-MA-ZING blue eyes.

 

Cam probably learned more, but when I noticed the eyes, I sorta stopped listening. As we walked back to our cars, Ross invited us to come to the hotel for a swim later, but Cam was headed to the beach, and I promised Mom that I'd vacuum and dust today 'cause I didn't do it on Saturday because it was
my birthday (observed), and then I was sorta glum on Sunday. I think she knew it was something about Nate even though I didn't tell her about it.

Ross stopped in front of a pickup truck and I thought Holy. Hell. What is it with guys and pickup trucks??? But I just said, You drive a pickup? And he said, How else am I gonna haul my surfboard around? and all of a sudden, Ross was 27-times cuter than I already thought he was.

BOOK: Lucy in the Sky
12.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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