I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Twenty

'You're not a hippy, that's all. Do you call them "hippies" here?'

'Yes, and how do you know I'm not? Or wasn't?' She struck a pose, hands on her hips.

I laughed, 'I have met you. I suppose I wouldn't be surprised if you used to be one, but not anymore.'

She tilted her chin down and said coyly, 'You don't know everything there is to know about me, young madam.'

I smiled, 'That's good.' I was glad she wasn't really upset with me.

She asked in her normal voice, 'Why is that?'

'I like learning new things about you, even if they are sometimes a bit shocking at first.' Even I was surprised at this admission, usually the more I learned about someone the less I wanted to know, but as she was breaking all of my rules she may do away with that one as well.

She smiled, 'I enjoy learning new things about you, as well.' She added in a conversational way, 'Though it's quite difficult as you don't share very much.'

I snorted, 'What do you mean?' I felt as if I talked all the time.

She shook her head, 'You don't freely offer personal information.' I felt my features scrunch in confusion and she added, 'You offer opinions and that sort of thing, but not personal information. We've known one another almost a year and all I know about your life is that you were raised in North Carolina, though you never felt you fit in; you have two siblings, one of each sex; you're quite close to your grandmother, who cares for you deeply; you don't get on well with your parents; and you couldn't care less about romantic relationships, so I assume you've never had one, as you were sixteen when you moved here.' I felt as if she were accusing me of something. Being withholding, perhaps.

'I'm sorry. I didn't realise I was being so...difficult.'

Her tone softened, 'Oh, sweetheart, I didn't mean it to sound like an accusation. I wouldn't say, "difficult" only guarded. When you don't have to be.'

I shrugged and avoided her eyes. 'Maybe what I've told you is all there is. I'm not very old—not a whole bunch to tell.'

She was quiet. 'Oh, I believe there's quite a bit more.' She watched me shift around uncomfortably before adding, 'Perhaps it's that you've never had someone with whom you felt secure enough to be open.'

I felt that curtain of speechlessness descending, with all sorts of thoughts hurtling around in my head. I wanted to say something, but couldn't choose one from the batch and wound up shrugging and mumbling something along the lines of, 'Yeah, maybe, I guess.'

She breathed in, 'Well, I need to crack on. Are you quite certain you want to stay?'

I nodded, I'd brought along my bag, which as usual had a notebook, a book, my journal and my letter box in it, so I was all set. I settled in a chair and, when I couldn't concentrate on the book I was re-reading (Love in a Cold Climate by Nancy Mitford) I wound up writing in my journal. Mostly about Alex and the kind way she had that made me want to tell her everything about me. But as I had never attempted to do that before I was scared I wouldn't be able to find the words. I wanted her to read my mind and just know everything so I wouldn't have to go through the exhausting process of finding the words and expressing them. It would be great if I could convey how I felt about things some way other than language, as it seemed like something always got lost in translation between other people and myself. It happened in both directions, though, I usually found other people as inscrutable as they found me.

Early in the term on one of my free days I decided not to go in to Oxford, as I was almost finished organising the biography/autobiography section in the study at home. That would finish up the cases on the right side of the room, which I was quite keen to do, as I was ready to move on to another section, though I hadn't yet decided if it would be History or Languages. I made supper (the easiest thing I could find in one of Alex's cookery books that we had the ingredients for at the house) and the chicken was halfway finished when I heard her car on the drive. Alex opened the door and addressed the dogs, who were waiting side-by-side in front of the door,