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Authors: Elizabeth Butts

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BOOK: Secondhand Purses
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“Yeah, I guess it is. You said you won these from the radio station, right?”

“Yup, sure did. Do you mind if we go over and say hi? I know it makes me look like a total dork, but I really like listening to this guy. I’m kind of a fan, I guess.”

I laughed on the inside, it
was
kind of fun to see this reaction. It would probably stop being fun the first time he came to my house and ended up embarrassing himself going all fan over my dad. But I liked that he didn’t know it was my dad.

“Sure, why not.”

We walked over to the table where they had my dad set up with the prize wheel that he had to lug to every remote appearance that he did.

“Hi, I’m Bryan Shawn, thanks for coming over.”

“Uh, hi, I’m Nick. This is my friend Vicki.”

“So what do you kids do?”

“I’m a senior at Mason Hills, and I play football.”

“Cool. Plans for college?”

“Yeah, I’m hoping to go Boston College. I’m trying to get a football scholarship.”

I was inwardly groaning. Dad was doing a total dad thing, finding out what Nick’s intentions were for me or some crap. Little did Nick know that Dad thought of BC as the ‘evil school at the
other
end of Commonwealth Ave.’ He was all about the Boston University Terriers. I rolled my eyes, and was struggling to maintain composure. I had to act like this was nothing to me. Keep cool, keep cool, keep cool. That’s what I was telling myself on the inside.

“Good school, your parents must be thrilled. I’m personally a fan of BU Hockey.” Dad smiled a real smile, finally turning towards me with a glint of laughter in his eyes. Clearly he was enjoying this way too much.

“Anyway, enjoy the movie, kids.” He turned to go greet other listeners, and I finally let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding.

“Wow. That was cool.” Nick grinned at me. He reached for my hand and started to pull me toward the theater. I could tell that although he was thrilled he got to meet my dad, I mean, Bryan Shawn, he was not going to go all fan girl over it. That was a nice change of pace.

“I can’t wait for this movie to start.” I grinned at him. I really couldn’t believe he actually went through with this. Nick squeezed my hand and pulled me close, quickly wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into a side hug. I sucked in air really quickly. One, because I couldn’t ignore the jolt I felt slam through my body with his touch. Two, because I wanted to make sure he didn’t feel any pudge. Apparently, this caused me to stiffen and he took that as a little bit of rejection and started to pull away. I wrapped my arm around his waist and held him close. I don’t know what came over me, but when he looked at me in question I just slowly smiled and shook my head no.

You don’t get to pull away
. I sent to him telepathically. He must have gotten the message because he smiled back at me and squeezed me back.

We picked out a row and plopped ourselves smack in the middle. The room was getting full quickly, and there wasn’t going to be an empty seat in the house.

My stomach let me know that it smelled the popcorn. I freaking loved popcorn. I didn’t want to look like a hog in front of Nick, though. I was pretty sure that the type of girls he went out with lived off of air, twigs and acorns.

I stared ahead at the screen, suddenly crazy self-conscious. What the hell was I thinking? There was absolutely no way he saw this as anything other than two friends who shared an obsession over a book series. I felt the telltale prick of tears behind my eyes. Ugh. I shook my head to try to get out of it.

“Hey, you okay?” Nick looked at me with concern and a tender sweetness. If I was a damsel in a romance novel I would say that I could get lost in the depths of his warm, chocolatey eyes. But I was no damsel in distress, and there was no way in hell you’d ever see this body in a freakin’ corset.

“Yeah, perfectly fine.” I tossed an overly bright smile his way, hoping to fool him.

He looked at me skeptically.

“When girls say ‘fine’, it doesn’t mean ‘fine’. It means run. I don’t feel like running.”

I laughed. This guy was just too much, and I was way too comfortable with him.

“Okay, how about this. I’m guy fine, not girl fine. Is that better?”

A sharp bark of laughter warmed me.

“Guy fine, eh? I like it. Why aren’t you eating popcorn? I’ve already demolished about a third of this.”

“Oh, um…you know, I – “

“For the love of God, please don’t tell me you are one of those chicks that will order a freaking salad and pick at it making me look like a total pig because I’m going to eat.”

My jaw drooped open. He didn’t want twig and acorn eating women? Nick totally took advantage of my open mouth to pop some popcorn into my mouth. Oh, he wants to play, does he? I quickly closed my mouth, trapping his finger between my lips, and gently raked my teeth on it.

His breath hitched as his pupils dilated. Gulp. Perhaps I was playing with fire, here. I was totally out of my element and had no idea what I was doing. But whatever it was, it apparently had worked. The way he was looking at me was decidedly
not
friendly.

“Uh, so, uh. Shit. Thanks for the popcorn?” I cringed as my voice lilted up in a question.

Nick shifted awkwardly in his seat, and swallowed hard, pulling his finger back from my lips.

“Vic, you have absolutely no idea, do you?”

I didn’t have a chance to answer, because at that exact moment the screen came to life and I was transported into a world that I’d only before seen on the pages of my favorite books. Saved by the movie.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

When we pulled up to my house three hours later, my mind was completely buzzing from the evening we shared. I was on edge, because I couldn’t help but feel like it was possible that this meant more to him than just a couple of friends going out. I didn’t want to read this wrong. If I made the wrong move, I was screwed. At least as friends, I knew what to do. But if this was more, I was way out of my element.

I turned toward him only to see him staring straight ahead. Odd. Introspective Nick was something I have never experienced. Perhaps he was having second thoughts.

“Well, thanks so much for an awesome night. I really appreciate you thinking of me when you won the tickets.” I grinned for him and reached for the handle of the car door.

“No! Wait.” Nick spurred into action, hopping out of the car and jogging to my door.

What was going on? I mean, like, two seconds ago he seemed like he didn’t know what to do with me, and now he was holding open the door with a flourish and a sheepish grin on his face.

He looped his arm with mine and walked me to the front door.

“I had a wicked good time with you tonight, Vicki. You are a lot different than the rest of the girls.”

“Uh, okay.” Seriously, what should I say to that? Like, tell me something I didn’t already know, right?

“No, I’m sorry. That probably came out all wrong. I just, I guess what I meant to say was, I liked it. You’re so much better of a person than all of them. It’s nice to just be able to relax and be chill with a girl instead of watching her try to be perfect.” He groaned and slapped his hand to his forehead.

“That came out wrong, too. I suck at this.” He looked dejected for a moment, all confidence draining out of his body.

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nick, it’s okay. Seriously, do you think that I consider myself even remotely perfect?” I shook my head as I indicated my body and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Stop it. Stop comparing yourself to the phony chicks at school. All they care about is what they look like. It’s all about who is thinner than who. Who has the more expensive clothes than who. They starve themselves and work out ridiculously to the point where they look like walking sick skeletons. I can’t have real conversation with any of them, yet they are who the entire school thinks I’m supposed to be with because I’m just some dumb jock football player.” Nick started pacing back and forth on our front porch, and I just stood back. I stood back with my arms wrapped around my mid-section, shocked to hear him speak out with so much passion against the type of girls I figured he’d want to be with.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is, I really like you Vicki. More than I should. And I really don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that.” He leaned forward and gave me a gentle kiss on my cheek. He pulled back an inch, and I turned my head toward his, my eyes shifting back and forth to try to gauge his reaction. He bent his head forward and rested it against mine. Why did this feel like goodbye, when his words were saying, ‘hello’?

He pulled away and turned to go down the stairs. He paused at the bottom of the stairs and turned to look back at me, the boyish charm back in his smile.

“I’ll see you around, Vic.”

I raised my hand in a half wave, and stood glued to the spot until at least ten minutes after the tail lights of his car faded from view.

What had just happened?

I walked into the house and almost ran into my mom, who was trying desperately to look like she wasn’t hovering. She was
so
hovering. I gave her a half smile and shrugged my shoulders.

“That bad?”

“No, actually, I had an incredible time. He was so sweet. I mean, he fed me popcorn and told me he was so happy I wasn’t like the other girls who ate rabbit food.”

“But?”

“But…I don’t know. It seems like he’s not sure. Like, he flat out said he didn’t know what to do with me.” I tried not to pout. But I was totally feeling like a kid who wasn’t getting to play with her favorite toy.

“Huh. Sounds like you took him by surprise, my girl.” Mom ginned at me as if she was proud of me for something. I just couldn’t figure out what.

“Um, okay. Well, I’m exhausted, so I’m heading up for bed. G’night.”

I started up the stairs, pausing close to the top and bending down to look at her.

“Hey, mom, you didn’t know that dad was going to be there tonight, did you?”

Totally guilty expression flashed over mom’s features before she reined it in.

“Hmm, you know, maybe he mentioned it in passing.”

I bet he did. I laughed as I jogged up the rest of the stairs.

***

Nights like this I was really glad that I kept a journal

Not that I was all that great at regularly writing in it. But since meeting Nick, I’d been almost religious in capturing my thoughts and feelings about this developing… I don’t know… friendship? Relationship? It was nice to be able to pull it out and review everything that had happened up to this point and over analyze it.

Mom said I’d taken him by surprise.

She seemed to think that I was surprising and interesting, but apparently Nick just thought I was another, I don’t know,
distraction
in his life. Two days and…nothing.

He’d kissed me on the cheek.

He said he didn’t know what he was going to do with me.

I guess he chose.

He chose to forget that I exist. That I breathe. That I feel.

I knew it.

I knew I’d felt more than he did. I knew that a silly night at the movies with him feeding me popcorn was a ridiculous fantasy night away from my reality. For all his talk about loving the fact that I would actually eat food in front of him, I knew it. He wanted a perfect. A perfect size four. A perfect cheerleader. Not a chick who was the awkward outsider, whose best friend was possibly ninety years old and was teaching her to bake.

Sigh.

Okay, that was enough. Enough feeling sorry for myself because I didn’t conform to someone else’s standards. I repeated this to myself as I jammed book after book into my backpack, prepared to not just attack, but freaking annihilate this day.

Head held high I owned the school…in my mind. The crazy thing was, that by walking through the day like I didn’t give a crap what anyone thought, people steered a wide berth. Even those bitch cheerleader types who seemed to get high off of tormenting me for having the audacity to breathe seemed to recognize that this was the time to steer clear.

I didn’t understand it. But, I liked it.

I found myself contemplating what the hell happened today at school as I walked to Nonna’s house. My highlight was one of the cheerleaders whose mission in life seemed to be making me miserable doing a double-take and then an about face, walking away from me.

I didn’t bother knocking on Nonna’s front door, just walked on in, calling her name.

“Hey, Alex, I’m in the kitchen!”

Where else would she be?

“Where else, right?’ I hated mind readers. Had I mentioned that yet?

“It’s Vicki,
not
Alex. What are we making today?”

“Today I feel like some pizzelle.” Nonna was bent over pulling a contraption out of the back of a cabinet.

“Cool, I’m always down for some pizza.”

“Not pizza, pizzelle. Although we could do pizza another day, I have an incredible Sicilian pizza dough recipe.”

“What’s a pizzella, then? I thought it was maybe a little baby pizza.” I pictured a teensy tiny pizza, smaller than the palm of my hand, with little baby pepperoni on it.

“Pizzelle are waffle cookies, mine tend to be a little softer than you’ll find at most bakeries, but that’s so when I turn them into a pizzelle sandwich, the cookie doesn’t break and fall apart on you. We make a thin dough and we will use this pizzelle iron to cook it into the traditional snowflake pattern. What do you want for flavor? Lemon, anise or vanilla?”

I thought it over for a few seconds.

“You mentioned turning them into sandwiches. What are you using as filling?”

She smiled at me appraisingly. I could tell I’d passed yet another one of her strange tests.

“Good question. Cannoli cream will be the filling.”

My mouth legit started watering. I did what she’d taught me to do, I pictured the cannoli cream and started thinking about the flavor. I could feel the texture in my mouth and imagined the blended flavors.

“Vanilla seems a little too obvious, like, I don’t know…too cliché or something. Like, everyone would do vanilla because it’s too easy. Anise, I’m still not one hundred percent on board with baked goods that taste like licorice. Would we use lemon zest or lemon curd for the cookie?”

“Lemon zest, it would be more subtle, not so much smack you upside the head, holy lemon.”

“So, I know there is already vanilla extract in the cannoli cream, but what if we amped that up a bit with some vanilla bean? I think I like the idea of the lemon and vanilla bean mix.”

“Grasshopper, you have done me proud.” She slightly bowed forward, acknowledging that my idea had merit.

I grinned with the warmth of her praise. Together, we set to measuring and mixing.

“So, how was the movie the other night?” I was impressed at her restraint. I mean, seriously, it must have been killing her not to ask about it until now!

“Um, you know, it was a movie. There were actors and actresses reenacting a scene up on a screen.” Yes, I was making her work for it. No, I didn’t feel bad about that. I was keeping my eyes on the dough that I was carefully working, not wanting to overwork it, not wanting it to be poorly mixed.

THWAP!

Something cool and somewhat wet started rolling down from my forehead, which bore the brunt of the attack. It was sticky and a little bit slimy and I was gagging as I reached to see what on earth had hit me.

Dough.

Pizzelle dough.

On my face. In my hair. Then in my mouth because, well, I just had to try it. Yum. But still, this was war.

I fixed my best glare on my face as I looked up to see eyes lined with years of laughter glinting back at me, and my friend’s frame was bent over in laughter. I reached a spoon over to grab a little bit of the vanilla bean filling, and pulling it back with my finger I let it fly. Cream hit her mouth, her chin and went down to her ample cleavage.

I heard her sharp intake of breath and braced myself for what I expected would be an onslaught.

We stared at each other for a few moments, both of us with our hands hovered over the makings of confectionary genius.

Instantaneously, as if we were of the same mind, the fur flew. Or, rather, the flour, sugar and baking powder flew. It was as if a mushroom cloud of white had exploded over the small kitchen. Secretly, I wished we hadn’t already beaten the eggs, otherwise I would have totally won this culinary battle.

“What the
hell
is going on in here?”

We both stood perfectly still. Slowly, the cloud of white descended and I could start to make out the form of a person in the doorway. A male form. A deliciously male form.

Nonna and I looked at each other sheepishly. Then I saw it. The smirk. The glint in her eyes that could mean only one thing. We both reached forward and grabbed a handful of dough and hurled it in the direction of the doorway. I didn’t wait to see if my aim was true, I turned and ran out the back door, laughing so hard I could barely breathe. I half ran, half fell down the stairs of the back deck and turned to run to the left of the house only to get stuck there because I forgot that there was a row of hedges that hid a fence there.

I thought maybe he wouldn’t have bothered to chase me. I thought that maybe he was too busy wiping gooey dough off of his face.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Eek. I thought wrong. I pushed up against the house to make myself as invisible as possible, in hopes that he wouldn’t find me. But, truth be told, I wanted him to find me.

He came tearing around the corner and skidded to a stop. He got a shit eating grin on his face and slowly walked towards me. I completely felt like the antelope being stalked by the lion. I backed up even further and pasted a smile on my face.

“Hey, Nick. Fancy meeting you here. You look good. Real good. Well rested and everything. Um. So, yeah. Uh, the movie was fun the other night.” I rambled on as he slowly moved closer, stopping only when he was about an inch from my face.

“You know what they say about payback, Vicki, don’t you?”

“Um, that it’s a bitch?”

“Yup.”

With that he leaned forward and rubbed his hair, his beautiful hair which was covered in dough, all over my face and neck.

I squealed as I struggled against him, which only succeeded in toppling us both over and having him land, once again, on top of me.

BOOK: Secondhand Purses
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