Chapter Six
June 15th – 5:58 A.M.
I stand in front on the marble countertop, wondering if I should eat a banana before I run. I don’t usually eat anything before I run, but last time I ran, I had a bad case of the munchies halfway through. Maybe it would be better if I ate before I ran. It’s food for thought. Oh, crap. Food.
“Lila?” My stepmother’s voice startles me out of my thinking. “Why are you staring at that banana like it holds all the answers in the world?”
Quickly, I turn to her. She’s dressed up for work in her pinstripe black suit, and her hair pulled back in a tight bun. “Um…just thinking about life while contemplating whether or not to eat a banana.”
She nods her head slowly. “Okay then.”
“Yeah…are you going to work now?” No, she’s just dressed for work while holding her briefcase and keys for fun! Wait, better yet, she’s really going off to the beach to go frolic in the water.
“Yes. I’ll be back for dinner tonight, though.” She gives me a hesitant smile.
“Oh, that’s good.” I give her a hesitant smile back.
She glances at the door. “I…should be going.”
“Yeah.” I lean against the counter.
Uncertainly, she heads to the door. “Uh huh.”
“I’ll see you when you get home then?”
“Yes, have a good day now, Lila.” With that remark, she opens the door and heads out.
When I hear the click of the lock, I release the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. That was so awkward. I just don’t know what to say here. Something wouldn’t let me connect with her. I wish I could be like any normal stepdaughter, but it’s just hard. In the beginning, I had my dad pushing me to get along with her and forcing us to be with each other. To be truthful, I loved every moment of it. I treated her like the mom I never really had, but then it all changed after he died.
There was nobody to keep us together. She didn’t want to deal with the bitter daughter of her dead husband and shipped me off to my grandparents. I love my grandparents, but I needed a mother. I needed someone who was in as much pain as I was. What? That wasn’t a time when I needed the shrink’s counseling? I love how these people just pick and choose when I need one. I hate how they play God with my life. If I had any choice, I would just be on this beach, dealing with my issues on my own. She’s not even doing any shrinking, since she’s always gone. Some therapist she is.
Shaking my head of these thoughts, I realize I need to start running. It’s much later than my usual start time. I swiftly head out the door, locking the door behind me. My stepmother keeps telling me that I don’t have to lock the door, but I still don’t trust the sneaky little buggers in this town. I don’t care how friendly or cheery they seem, there has to be an axe murderer waiting in the shadows around here somewhere. With my luck, he’ll set his axe-wielding sights on moi.
I crank up the volume on my iPod and instantly feel better as I start running. The calm breeze makes up for the humidity that’s clinging to the air and keeps the temperature nice. I just love these days. Usually, Chicago would be hot and sticky at this point if you didn’t head down near the Navy Pier. Here, the Gulf surrounds us and the breeze is constant. Part of me wishes I could stay here forever. No, Chicago’s your home. I want to shake that stupid inner voice and tell her nowhere is home, since home’s where the heart is and my heart doesn’t want to stay with anyone at this point. It’s a defiant little rebel.
Breathing hard, I realize I’m running straight into the humidity. I lower my pace and check my pulse to keep it steady. The worst thing you can do is run and just stop completely. You have to slow it down to a pace to not shock your heart. After a few minutes, I come to a stop when I think my heart is at a decent rate to stop at and end up running into something or should I say someone.
“Well, howdy there.”
I groan internally when I look up from the neon blue polo shirt and find myself face to face with none other than Noah. “You’re doing nothing to dissuade me from the fact that you totally are my stalker.”
He cocks his head to the side, his ruffled bangs sliding in his eyes. “Did you know that Maine is the largest producer of blueberries in the world?”
I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “So, I see we’re switching topics now then? Okay, I’ll play. Why do you know this, and does the fact that you’re spewing out facts about blueberries have anything to do with the fact that your eyes are the same exact color?”
A smirk forms at the corner of his mouth; a streak of surprise quickly passes through his eyes only to be gone a few seconds later. “Nah, I just had fun with Google last night. It’s amazing what pops into your head at three in the morning. You just used the word fact three times in that sentence. Did you realize that?”
“How could you be on Google when you’re supposed to be in my bushes stalking me?” I cross my arms across my chest.
A chuckle tumbles out of his mouth. “Oops. I guess blueberries are just more important than you.”
As I put a hand over my heart, I scrunch my face up in mock sadness. “That hurt deeply. Like, right down in here.” I tap my hand where my heart is. “I think you need to call 911, since I can’t just go on living, knowing that someone—wait, something else has your heart instead of me. My heart will not go onnnn…”
A full-on laugh comes out this time. Apparently my terrible singing and impression of Celine Dion is hilarious. Score! Not, although it’s what I was going for. I’m not really sure what I was going for, since those remarks didn’t even register in my brain as coming out of my mouth.
“I’m sorry that I hate to just spring this on you. I know it’s quite distressing, but I’m sure there’s some other guy will love you for your stalkerish ways as much as me one day.” He pats my shoulder.
“Excuse me as I go cry in that ditch over there. This is just too much. I can’t believe you left me for a fruit!” I roll my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Lil, but it’s just the way it has to be.” He shrugs. “Blueberries are just delish!”
“You got me there, but you could have left me for, like, kiwis which sound more exotic than blueberries. I mean, I got left by the fruit whose inventor or namer or whatever had a Captain Obvious moment. ‘It’s, like, blue and, like, a berry, so it must be, like, a blueberry!’” I throw in some spirit fingers to really get my message across.
Wait…did he just call me Lil? Erm…huh.
Smiling, he lets another chuckle escape. “It’s good to know that you’re not above making fun of long deceased dead people.”
“Hey, this is the person that named such a food that stole my man slash stalker from me. He deserves to be harassed.” I cross my arms across my chest again.
“Good to know. You made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.” He smirks.
Finally, I decide that I’ve had enough of the weird fruit conversation, and decide to switch topics. “So…what are you doing out here so early? Another milk run? Or you just remembered that I run each time in the morning, and you wanted to come creep on me to tell me about fascinating facts about blueberries and the state of Maine?”
He runs a hand through his hair, sending a glance with an unknown emotion back toward his house. Finally, he turns his gaze back to me. “You run every morning?”
“Uh huh. I’m an avid runner. Be amazed.” Noticing the abrupt switch in subjects, I tilt my head to the side. Was it just me that saw that weird look he gave his house? Well, I hope it was just me, and I haven’t magically created imaginary friends that I’m now talking to inside my head. I totally need that to add to my ever-growing list of problems.
“I am. Lila, can I ask you a serious question?” In a blink of an eye, his face shifts from the weird mix of nervous and happy that had graced his face a few seconds ago to solemn.
“Sure?” Anxiety starts bubbling up in my chest for some odd reason.
“Can we be friends?”
My mouth falls to the ground. “Um…what?”
He scrunches up his nose. “Sorry, that came out wrong. It’s just…I feel like you don’t like me that much, and trust me, I know why. I usually come off as a cocky, annoying guy, and you’re one of the few girls that calls me out on it and doesn’t swoon over my supposed ‘wit’ and ‘sarcasm’ that people always compliment me on. You can actually dish it back to me. So…I want to call a truce. We can even be besties for life if you wish.”
I just look at him. Did…did he really just say that? Out of all of the people in this very odd town, I actually find him the most interesting. Even though I completely hate to admit it, I like talking to him. He never fails to crack me up and reminds me of what I was like before the accident. How carefree and alive I felt. I do want a friend here and maybe Noah can be that. Plus, imagine all the fun we could torturing other people instead of each other.
Am I actually considering this? Oh yes, you are! The dude’s hot and totally wants to be besties with you. You know what besties like that turn into? No friendships ever stay purely platonic with hotties like this. Have you never read a teen book?
I totally hate the annoying voice in my head. It needs to go die in a hole somewhere. I’ve had hot guy friends before. I can do this. It’ll be a piece of cake—not the blueberry kind.
“Crap, I’ve totally stumped you, haven’t I? It’s fine if you don’t. It was just a suggestion. I thought it would be more fun—”
I cut him off. “Yes. I would like to call a truce. I’m sure it would be much more fun to annoy other people about blueberries instead of just me and you.”
A genuine smile spreads across his face. “Cool. So we’re friends then?”
“Friends.” I hold out my hand for him to shake.
He takes my hand in his and shakes it slowly. “Good. I need someone else who shares in my distaste for partying hardy.”
I’m just about to say something when a shrill voice cuts straight our chatting and bonding moment. “Noah! What are you doing? Who are you talking to?”
Wincing, he bites on his lip quite hard. “My aunt. Erm, not the greatest morning person out there. I should probably get back to what I was doing or…whatever. Here,” he stuffs a piece of crumpled up loose-leaf paper in my hand and gives me a hesitant smile again, “it’s my number. Call me, since we’re friends now or don’t. Up to you. Although, I’m excellent at saving people from the dreaded chaos that they call parties in this town, so if you ever need to the Cocky Party Saver Kid to come save you, give me a ring.”
“Noah!”
“I have to go now. It was great to see you, Lil. Have a fun, fun, fun day in this wonderful town.” He sprints back to where his aunt’s standing on the porch, her eyes narrowed at me. Huffing, she thrusts her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder when Noah joins her on the porch and seems to rip into him.
Not wanting to watch that anymore, I start my run back up and shove the paper in my pocket. That was surreal and five flavors of weird. The rest of my run goes by smoothly.
When I finally end my run and get back home, I head upstairs and flop down on my bed. I grab my cell-phone and dial Tori’s number. I leave her a quick message about actually making a friend today—does that sound lame and pathetic to anyone else in my wonderful brain?—and chuck my cell-phone on the ground.
I roll my eyes and head downstairs. I grab that banana I was thinking about earlier. My shaky hands unpeel it, and when I notice how badly my hands are shaking, I stop. When did they start doing that? I’ve never had shaky hands before.
You’re low on sugar, dumbo! Come on, you flying elephant, that’s obviously the reason. It couldn’t be the fact that you’ve been having more and more issues lately. I mean who rocks themselves to sleep in the fetal position while bawling their eyes out? Why, you, of course!
Uneasily, I take a bite of my banana. The annoying voice in my head does make a good point. I didn’t exactly have a good night yesterday. Most of the time I can put on a good mask, but I can feel it cracking more and more lately. It can’t just be this Texan town doing it to me. I think it’s just getting harder to keep up. Maybe…letting someone in might be good. Noah said that he wanted to be my friend.
I’m such an idiot. Letting someone in isn’t going to help anything. I just need to deal with this by myself. I’m the only one I trust. I’m the only one that won’t desert me.
After I finish my banana, I throw it away and head upstairs. There are just some things that need to be handled by only you. Getting through the aftermath of this accident is one of those things.