The Bookworm Next Door: The Expanded and Revised Edition (2 page)

“Okay,” Amanda advised her, “you have to pick your best friend carefully.  She has to be willing to do your every bidding and..,” Amanda emphasized, “she has to have a cute older brother.”

“Why is that important?”  At fourteen, Aimee wasn't as boy-crazy as her sister and mother would have liked.

Smiling indulgently at her little sister, she stated, “Because you never know when the best friend’s brother cliché will happen.”

Confused, Aimee had a difficult time figuring out why her family wanted her chasing after boys.  Most of her friends’ parents would have loved it if their daughters weren't looking at the opposite sex with hormone tinted glasses.  

Although, when she thought about it, most of her friends were slowly drifting away without giving her any reasons.  Several times somebody had told her that they couldn’t spend any more time with her.  They’d say that their parents had said that Aimee and her family were bad influences.  All that remained from her circle of friends was Will Cooper and Kelly Johnson.

Kelly did have an older brother, but Aimee had trouble deciding if he was cute or not.  She wasn’t interested in things like that quite yet.

“Now, we need to deal with your hair and makeup,” Amanda announced, picking her bag off of the floor where she'd hidden it.  “You need to learn how to do these things properly.” 

“I'd rather go play softball with Kelly.  We were going to practice so that we would make the team.”  Aimee’s battered glove called for her from her closet where it had been hidden ever since her mother had told her that there would be no softball that summer.

“No!  No softball.  You'll go watch games.  You'll be a cheerleader; I can even get you on the JV squad if we practice enough before tryouts in two weeks.  Under no circumstances will you continue playing softball.”

Later that night Aimee called Kelly to tell her Amanda’s decree.  The other girl whispered, “There's no way my mom will let me try out to be a cheerleader.”  

“And I really want to play softball,” Aimee whispered back.  “There has to be some way where I can do both.”

Over the next thirty minutes they plotted and planned.  It was the first, and definitely not the last, plotting session that the girls would have over the next four years.

There was one item that Delilah was incapable of letting go of.  Two, if a person counted as a thing.  But lately even David Carver wasn’t acting quite as charming and friendly as he normally acted. 

Before High School, she called it, thinking that something as important as the beginning of the end, or the beginning of something new, deserved capital letters. 

              Before High School she had her mother.

              Before High School she had her best friend. 

              Before High School she was more than just a bookworm obsessed with
Pride and Prejudice
, its variations, and unofficial sequels. 

He was completely out of his element.  The closest he could think to compare this situation to was when his father died three years before.  Delilah was at his side letting him cry and supplying him with chocolate chip cookies for a week. 

David didn’t have a clue about how to be there for his friend when her mother disappeared and her parents were getting a divorce.  His mother’s unhelpful advice was to be there for her, but all Delilah wanted to do was read that stupid book her mother had left behind. 

They had promised each other that things would be different this year.  No more hiding behind books and in treehouses.  They would make other friends.  They would go to parties and leave their mark on their high school class. 

He didn’t take into account how Veronica Davis’ selfish disappearing act would affect her youngest daughter. 

"Delilah, Delilah, Delilah," David's taunting voice echoed in the single room of the treehouse.  Naturally he knew where to find her. "Are you reading
that
book again?" Shaking his head, he attempted to snatch the book away. "There are better books that you can read besides this silly romance." Successful in his efforts to take the book away from her, he started to teasingly read aloud from the first page. "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." He then started laughing, loudly.  Even he noticed the slightly manic tone in his laughter.  Stress and uncertainty were beginning to take a toll on him.

Sitting silently in her spot, she knew that he would give up eventually - he always did when it came to teasing her - and then he’d return the book. If she refused to fight back then he would get bored and go on to find his next target.  Hopefully it would be one of the boys that were making fun of her at school. She desperately wished that he would give Will Cooper a black eye for saying that she was not pretty enough for her mother to stay.

"What does that mean anyway?" David finally asked, handing the book back in the same condition that he had taken it.  The scrap piece of paper being used as a bookmark was still in the place that Delilah had hurriedly stuck it.

"It's sarcasm. Austen is setting up her introduction of the story and of the mother. Mrs. Bennet starts the plot going by her insistence that Mr. Bennet meet Mr. Bingley. She wants her daughters well provided for before her husband dies." Delilah looked down, "At least that is how I understand it."

David, balancing himself on the tree house’s open window ledge, shook his head while stating, "I don't understand how you can even understand that."

"I did grow up in a family who was raised on Austen.”  She chuckled, “It was a joke that Samantha was teethed on a copy of
Northanger Abbey
.”  Suddenly Delilah’s face turned distant as she remembered watching her mother add things in a memory box for Samantha.  The chewed up book had already been in the chest. 

"Well," he started, swinging his leg back and forth as he tried to look impressive, "I wasn't and I'm never going to read that book."  Her growing distance frustrated David and he’d try anything to get Delilah’s mind back to the present. 

"Then it is your loss,” was all Delilah said before leaving the treehouse. 

              Groaning, David thumped his head against the wooden wall.  He’d hoped that he could tease her out of her melancholy, but wasn’t concerned until that moment that he could chase her even further away. 

              He was running out of ideas about how to get his best friend back. 

Nothing was going according to plan. 

This was supposed to be their year.  The year that they tackled together.  Instead he felt as if he was floundering about while his lifeline was floating around with her head in a book.  He wasn’t completely certain which book it was, but he’d bet it was another Austen novel.  Normally he’d have an idea, but it had been days since he’d caught more than a glance of Delilah.  It felt like forever. 

It was different from when his father died.  David had rarely even seen the man outside of the random vacation and during dinner meals.  He’d forever remember cancelled fishing trips and Mr. Walter helping them with technical projects instead of his other father.

It was troubling that the next door neighbor had to help them with making volcanos and building tree houses.  It left David wondering what he was lacking that his own father would rather be on the phone taking business calls instead of spending time with his son. 

It was this uncertainly about everything that made it flattering that some of the more popular freshmen were paying attention to him.  Certainly he was conflicted by the difference in how Will Cooper was treating Delilah and the attention he gave him.  He was torn between hitting the bully and inviting him over to shoot hoops in the driveway.

All of that would have to wait.  He needed to ask Delilah if she could help him study for his history class.  If he didn’t pass the first test it would be nearly impossible to rebound.  He needed to keep his grades up so it wouldn’t endanger his chances of making the baseball team. 

“I can’t tonight,” David said to the person standing behind him.  He was mildly annoyed at her interruption as he tried to find his World History notes in his locker.  For the millionth time since the semester started he wished that Delilah wasn’t so distracted; she would have helped him organize his locker weeks ago. 

"But David," the undisputed prettiest freshmen girl whined, "I thought we were going to hang out tonight." Aimee Kirkland flattered herself into thinking that she could convince him to give her what she wanted.  She was using the tactics her sister and mother had drilled her over. 

"I have a history test to study for," he answered her absently, giving up on his notes and grabbing the textbook out of his locker. "I asked my neighbor to help me study and everything. I can't fail this test."

Aimee pouted, wondering how she was supposed to hook the guy with plenty of potential if all he saw was his ugly next door neighbor and her baggy clothes. She knew exactly what her sister would suggest doing, but Aimee wasn’t certain if she was ready to take that step with somebody she barely knew. 

All she really thought was that if she went along with her sister’s plans then she could bargain for the softball team.  She never really thought about what Amanda’s plans would entail.  Or that Amanda was always around watching and instructing her about what to do.  Or how to do it.  What to wear it.  The best way to flirt and keep a guy’s attention.

With all that information Aimee couldn’t figure out why it was nearly impossible to get David’s attention. 

"I thought you wanted to be my boyfriend," she used her last resort and pouted, thinking it could work. "I thought you wanted to hang out with me and my friends. I know Will was thinking it would be great to be friends with you." And then finally, her Ace, "My parents aren't home tonight."

Her parents were never home.  Her father was normally…actually Aimee didn’t know where her father went, and her mother normally went out looking for him, she assumed. 

Closing her eyes, Delilah laid back against the wooden planks of the treehouse while she waited.  It had been David’s idea to meet in the treehouse and she knew how badly he needed to pass this test.  He’d been talking about the baseball team ever since he’d run into Brady, a former travel baseball teammate. 

What was keeping him?

Climbing down the ladder, she went to the Carver’s back door and knocked.  It wasn’t the first time that a Davis girl had knocked on the back door of the neighbor’s house.  “Hello, Mrs. Rebecca.  Have you seen David?  We were supposed to meet to study for his history test.”

Gulping, Mrs. Carver looked in the house behind her, “Umm… David is…”  For a moment she felt ashamed for her son standing up Delilah and leaving his mother to explain things. 

Peter, the middle Carver brother and a senior at James Madison High School, peeped around the corner from where he was raiding the fridge.  “David went to study with Aimee Kirkland.”  Looking at his mother, “I thought he told you that.”

Shrugging her shoulders, “I guess I forgot,” Mrs. Carver weakly replied, not meeting Delilah’s gaze.  She refused to see the disappointment that would definitely be on the girl’s face. 

Looking over towards where Delilah was clutching her worn copy of
Emma
, David glanced back at Will Cooper. The differences between them were apparent. Delilah's red hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail.  She wore glasses that were just a tad too large for her face, threatened to fall off her nose, and hid eyes that darted between the two boys and the floor.  Her baggy jeans and a size too large t-shirt emphasized the lack of curves that some of the other girls had been developing for years. Will had a pulled together look: his button up shirt was perfect, his hair was artfully arranged to look as if he had just gotten out of bed.  But David also knew that Will had spent ten minutes perfecting the mess and that he was standing over there brimming with fake confidence.

"Where were you last night?" Delilah's blue eyes locked onto David's brown. "We were supposed to study for our history test together."

The short laugh, more like a snort, coming from Will communicated to David what he should say. Delilah ignored it, not caring an ounce for the wannabe playboy that David had taken to hanging out with at school. Instead she tugged her books to her invisible chest and stared blankly at her best friend. It was the same look Delilah would give him whenever she thought that he was being stupid.  Or an idiot.  Or both.  She had begun to present him with that particular expression at least twice a day.  Sometimes trice. 

"What are you talking about? I never said I would meet you last night. I had better things to do, much better things to do, than study for a stupid test." David smirked, accidently creating the signature look that carried him throughout the next couple of years. Internally he was slapping himself while hoping that Delilah would understand when he explained things later.

"But you said that you needed to study and asked me for help yesterday after school when Peter took us home."  Delilah was trying her best to ignore Will’s existence. 

Will started laughing harder. Out of the corner of his eyes, David saw Peter standing behind Will. Suddenly he was torn between saying what was right and saying what would make him accepted. "And you thought I was serious? Geez, I only said that for Peter’s benefit. He doesn’t have to know exactly what I was doing last night."

The pain in Delilah's eyes and the disappointment in Peter’s expression troubled him briefly, but the approval in Will's eyes countered everything else. Fitting in was all that mattered.  Delilah would understand, hopefully, when he explained it to her.

              “David, I need to talk to you,” Kyle stated, pulling him into the nearest restroom.  After checking that the stalls were empty, “I need to warn you about Aimee and Will.” 

              “What is there to warn me about?  Aimee is hot and Will seems like a good guy.” 

              Taking a deep breath, Kyle started in on the spiel he had briefly practiced.  “Aimee is just like her older sister, a bitch, and Will is a social climber.  They need you in order to get what they see as the top of the social ladder.  People genuinely like you and they can see this.  Without you they won’t be feared or remembered.”

              David looked at Kyle before asking, “Why are you telling me this?”

Shaking his head, Kyle explained further.  “I’ve seen it happen with some of the guys on the football team.  Aimee is going to follow her sister’s example and will do whatever it takes to keep her claws into you.  Will is gullible enough to fall for every single word that witch utters.” 

              “That’s still my girlfriend you are talking about.”

              “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

              Knocking on the back door of the Davis house, David waited for somebody to answer.  It took five minutes and fifteen knocks for Mr. Davis to answer. 

              “Oh, hello, David,” he responded, looking down at the stack of mail in his hands.  “Delilah’s in her room.  Leave the door open.”  Without a second thought towards sending a boy to his daughter’s bedroom, he went back to staring at the giant envelope with the lawyer’s return address stamped on the corner. 

              Climbing the stairs three at a time, David hurried to Delilah’s room only to see her huddled on her bed with textbooks and notes scattered around her. 

              “What are you doing?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe. 

              “Studying,” she answered him without looking up.  “Some of us have tests to study for.”

              “I want to explain.”

              Looking up at him for the first time since he’d entered the room.  “It is fine,” was all she said before dismissing him and going back towards her physical science notes.

              “I don’t want you to think..,” he stopped, uncertain on how he was supposed to finish that sentence. 

              She stood up, anger flashing in her eyes, “You don’t want me to think what?  That you decided to blow me off for your new pretty and petty girlfriend and new asshole best friend?  Is that supposed to make me feel better?”  She started to poke him in the chest, “I’m your oldest friend!  We’ve been through so much for years and you blow me off!  For what?  A bitch and a round of sweaty sex!”