chapter three.

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Later that morning, after my parents left for work, taking my brother to daycare, I forced my mind to not think about Jared. It was ludicrous. He was taking over all of my thoughts and feelings, and I had only had a few minute encounter with the guy. But, God, those eyes. They seemed to see straight into my soul.  

"Stop it," I said aloud to myself. This was insane. I feverously worked through boxes, unpacking things brought over from our old house. I started in my bedroom. After a couple of hours, I couldn't ignore the grumbling in my stomach, so I went to the kitchen in search of something for lunch.  

Staring at the side of the neighbors' yellow house through our dining room window, I let my mind drift around, but carefully guiding it away from any thoughts of Jared. I couldn't let someone I didn't even really know consume my mind and thoughts like I had been doing. Washing down my sandwich with a cold glass of milk, I returned to my room, and an hour and a half later, had everything unpacked and put away. I was pretty proud of myself, and felt pretty accomplished.  

I decided I could finish up the living room boxes next, putting away movies and games still in boxes. Forty five minutes later, that was finished and I moved on to the boxes containing all of our books, and filed them onto the bookshelves. I didn't stop until my throat was so scratchy and dry, it was like it was screaming, begging for something to drink. I obliged with ice cold water, guzzling it down as fast as I could.  

Staying busy kept my mind off Jared, and I decided I'd keep it up by sorting and doing laundry. Then I swept and mopped the kitchen floor. Then I vacuumed. Before I knew it, my parents were pulling in the driveway, and I was practically exhausted. 

"Wow. Someone's been busy today!" my mom exclaimed as she walked into the dining room, setting Sam down on the floor.  

"Yeah, I guess I got bored," I answered. I still hadn't told them about meeting Jared. I decided earlier that I wasn't going to, either. I was just going to push him out of my mind and forget about him entirely. 

"I guess so," my mom replied, setting her purse down on the table. "Well, let me change my clothes and I'll get supper started." 

"Okay," I said absently as I walked into the living room and laid down on the couch and instantly dozed off. 

The smell of spaghetti woke me. "Oh, that smells good," I said, sitting up on the couch. 

"Yeah, it's almost done, too, sleepy head," Dad answered. 

I walked into the dining room and took my seat at the table, across from Sam already in his booster seat.  

"Sketti!" he shouted excitedly. "Yum!" I couldn't help but laugh at him. He was too cute sometimes. "Can we go to the park again, Tiffy?" he asked, suddenly serious. 

"Well, I don't guess I care. But not until after dinner," I answered.  

"Okay!" he agreed, excitedly. 

Sam seemed to inhale his food, and so did I, although I think it was for different reasons. Mine was out of hunger, his out of wanting to go back to the park as soon as possible. 

"Ready, Tiffy!" he announced minutes later. 

"Okay, just a minute," I told him. I handed him a napkin to wipe his face, cleaned up our plates, and then he was off to get his little sandals on so we could go to the park. 

Once again he was on his bike, and I followed behind him. When we arrived at the edge of the grass, Sam jumped off his bike and flew towards the swings again. I followed, pushing his bike and shaking my head. 

We stayed at the swings for about twenty minutes, and then he went down the slide a few times. "Push me on the go-round, Tiffy!" Sam said excitedly. 

"Okay," I agreed. "But then we'll have to go home," I informed him. 

"Okaaayyy," Sam replied, not as excited about leaving this time. I pushed him on the "go-round" for about five minutes, then he hopped on his bike and we headed home.  

We were on the street that led to the main highway, about a block or so from our house still, when I heard car tires on the gravel and pavement behind me. 

"Scoot over next to the ditch," I instructed Sam, helping him by guiding his handlebars protectively. We slowed to a near stop, and I glanced behind us to see how close the vehicle was. It was a black SUV-type of vehicle, and I wasn't surprised that I didn't know who it was driving. Not like I could see anyway, with the sun blinding me. The vehicle slowed to a crawl, and then came to a stop next to us. My heart skipped a beat as I realized this, and that the passenger side window was being rolled down. 

"Hey, there, stranger," said a sort of familiar voice from inside the SUV. 

"Um, hi," I answered cautiously. 

As the vehicle stopped, I finally saw who was behind the steering wheel. Jared. I felt my heart rate speed up again, and the butterflies automatically returned to my stomach. 

"Forget about me already?" he asked teasingly. 

"Oh, no, just busy, I guess," I answered, trying my hardest not to sound like a moron. 

"Is that your son?" Jared asked. He meant Sam. 

"Oh! No," I replied, laughing nervously, "this is my brother, Sam." Sam waved as big as he could at the vehicle. 

"Oh, I see," Jared said with a small laugh, "You just never know anymore." 

"Yeah...." I trailed off. "I saw you at church," I said suddenly. 'Why? Why would I say that? Idiot!' I scolded myself. 

"Yeah, I saw you, too. I wanted to stop and say hi, but we had to hurry and leave. My sister had a thing she had to be at, and my mom had to take her," Jared replied. 

"Oh, was she at church, too?" I asked, hoping quietly. 

"Yeah. She was the younger girl sitting next to me. Her name is Kinsley," he answered. 

"Oh. Oh, that's a pretty name," I said lamely. All I could think was, 'Not his girlfriend. She's NOT his girlfriend!' I had a quiet, secret party inside my mind at this revelation. It must've been a bit too long of a party. 

"Yeah, well, uh, I guess. I didn't name her. She can be kind of a brat sometimes. The baby of the family and all," he said, interrupting my celebrating. 

"Oh, yeah. I don't know. It's just me and Sam," I said. I was getting really great at the boring, lame-ass answers lately.  

"I see. Well, I better go. I was on my way home from working at the farm, and I saw you guys walking. Thought I'd stop to say 'hi.' I need a shower now, though. I smell like a hog," Jared said, smiling that brilliant, eye-sparkling smile of his. I wanted to melt right on the side of the road. Melt right into a big, gushy puddle of nothing. 

"Oh, well, alright, then," I stammered aloud. I was mentally kicking myself.  

Still smiling, he replied, "Yeah. I'll see ya around, Tiff. Later." And then he slowly pulled off, turning at the corner, and driving right in front of our house. 

"He's nice," Sam said suddenly. I jumped. I'd almost forgotten he was even here. Wow. I really was losing it. 

"Yeah, he seems to be," I answered him, trying not to sound too drunk in love. Four year olds didn't seem to respond well to that.  

It took everything I had not to skip and sing and dance the rest of the way home.

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