A/N--Heya again guys! Sooo...IT'S SUMMER TIME FOR THIS GIRL :)) I am out of school for summer and, for two weeks, not working. So brace yourselves for a crap ton of updates on this story. Be pumped! Anyways...this chapter is definitely a filler. But I still hope you like it and will be awesome and leave me with bunches of comments and votes :)
And the hunk on the side is our very own Mr. Ethan. Drool worthy, right? ;) And if you don't think so, don't tell me haha. I think he's gorgeous!
"How are you feeling?" I ask Jeanie into the phone later that afternoon as I'm curled into my window seat once again, Darko sleeping away on my lap. I've kind of been hiding out in my room all day-well, ever since I blew up on Ethan. I really don't have the she balls to go and apologize to him, but also, well...there's a part of me that's kind of mad at him.
I honestly felt like he was judging me back then, back there in the kitchen. I feel like he thinks he's better than me or something, like I'm some kind of scum of the earth for going out drinking that night. Does he know that I do that a lot? My mom sure likes to complain about me, he's had to have heard something by now. Right? And because he has he probably thinks I'm some kind of white trash or something, like my mom does.
And that bothers me a lot.
But I push all of those thoughts out of my head, knowing that they'll only drive me crazy in the long run, and instead focus on the conversation I'm having with my best friend. She says, "I feel fine, but the hospital is filled with a bunch of jack asses who don't know what the fuck they're doing. Like seriously, I can walk and I can pee just fine. It just hurts to look at bright lights or think too much. That's all."
"Well that's good," I say honestly, feeling a part of me lighten when I realize she's not in some life or death situation. "At least you didn't break anything or something like that."
"Like Fred broke his fucking collarbone? Do you know how hard it is going to be to have sex now? Like I feel like that's going to get in the way and it's not going to be as fantastic as it usually is, you know?"
I roll my eyes. Typical Jeanie to only be worried about her and Fred's sex life. I swear the two of them aren't even in a relationship. Half of the time it seems like they're only together for the sex. But whatever, I probably wouldn't understand because of my lack of experience in that whole department. Jeanie's mentioned countless times that I'll never know how much sex is worth until I have it, and well, seeing as how I refuse to have a one night stand when I'm drunk-I do not want my first time to look like they crawled out of a dumpster-and guys only like me when I'm drunk...I'm kind of screwed. Well, not literally of course.
So I just tell her, "Yeah, well...I'm sure you two will figure something out."
"We better," she says defiantly, "Something about hospitals make me feel vulnerable, which makes me horny. So yeah. I'm ready to get out of here and onto my boyfriend."
The conversation making me somewhat uncomfortable, I lie and tell her, "Hey my mom wants me to get off the phone, alright?"
She laughs and says, "I still can't believe your parents ground you. You're almost twenty years old."
I want to come back and tell her that not everyone has a boyfriend's family to live with and mooch off of like she does, but instead I just say nonchalantly, "Yeah, it sucks," and then after we say our goodbyes, I click the off button and then toss my phone onto my bed.
Feeling that somewhat familiar hollow in my feeling in my chest at how much it sucks not to have a true best friend, I lean my head back against the dark purple wall and close my eyes. I feel Darko fidget around in my lap, trying to get comfortable, and just the feel of him there, never-leaving and always loving, makes me feel a bit better.
Still, it does bother me that Jeanie is not the best friend that someone could ever ask for. She's rude, loves to make fun of me and pinpoint my flaws, and is constantly talking about her and Fred's awesome sex life. Fred never talks about it, and he's a guy for Christ's sakes. Shouldn't he be the one that's always boasting about it?
But no, him and Jesse never truly talk about stuff like that because they know I'm not a big fan of that conversation. It always makes me feel like an unloved loser when people talk about all the people they've slept with, and Jesse and Fred are nice enough to never talk about it. Jeanie, though, is a totally different story. She always talks about it, about how great it is, and how I'm totally missing out. It's like she just loves to rub it in my face.
So why am I her friend then? Well, because she's all I truly have. All of my friends-all two of them-from high school moved away to attend smart people schools and well, I met Jeanie in one of my classes and we kind of just clicked. We do tend to have the same kind of humor, and she introduced me to parties and to alcohol and showed me the one place where I can truly be accepted and liked. And, well, if I wasn't her friend then I'd never know where to go party or anything.
And that would suck balls.
Besides, she does make me feel accepted every once in a while. And I've never truly had a "cool" group of people to hang out with and she's given me one. So I do love her for that.
"Hallie, it's time for dinner," I hear at my bedroom door, and when I look over to the clock next to my bed for clarification, I see that it is around seven o'clock. Realizing that I do feel somewhat hungry, I reluctantly pull myself off of my window seat, gathering a still slumbering Darko in my hands.
I call out to my dad, "Be there in a sec!" and then go to put Darko back down on my bed. I see him open up his cloudy, unseeing eyes in confusion as to why I'm not holding him anymore, and he gives a soft whine, but just seconds later he curls himself back into a little circle and then goes back to sleep.
I head out of my room to go downstairs, but I feel my bare foot hit something with the first step out of my room. When I look down, I see a bottle of green goo looking back at me, and when I realize what it is and why it's here, my heart goes a little bit warm. It's a bottle of aloe. Aloe for my back. Aloe for the back that Ethan saved from further damage when he saw that I'd fallen asleep.
He went out and got me the aloe that our house didn't have, even after I yelled at him. What the hell? I'm not even...I'm not even sure of what to do right now. I'm not used to people doing such awesome things for me. This is just...it's almost too much for me to even think about. For some reason, my stomach starts feeling all wrapped up in itself and warm.
I lean over and pick the bottle up and then after placing it on my dresser, the whole while looking at it like it's an alien or something, I head out of my room once more and then on downstairs. The whole trek towards the dining room, I wonder how I'm supposed to look at him now, how I'm supposed to act. While a part of me is still miffed at the whole episode in the kitchen earlier, I can't help but feel as if I should just fall to my knees apologizing now because he's done something so nice towards me.
Shit.
I hate not knowing what to do with myself.
When I walk in through the archway and into the dining room, I feel everyone's eyes on me immediately. I push it away, though, for once too caught up in something else other than how much my mom and Darla hate me. I take my usual seat, right next to my dad, but when I look up I see that Ethan has taken my mom's usual spot and is now sitting across from me.
He's not looking back at me, though, instead too busy talking to my dad about some song of his and how he can't seem to get the chords right. While my dad goes over possible solutions, I look over at the center of the table and smile a little bit to myself when I see that it's steak, macaroni and cheese, and mashed potatoes. Total perfection, not even going to lie.
While everyone else has their own conversations, I go ahead and fill up my plate, the fact that I can't bite into my food quite yet a bit irritating. My dad was raised as a die-hard Baptist and while we rarely ever go to church or talk about anything remotely religious, we still have to say a blessing over the dinner every night when my dad's here. I like it though, most of the time. It actually makes us feel like a family, all holding hands and saying "Amen" at the same time. I'm not exactly used to feeling included in the whole family dynamic, so it's nice to feel that way sometimes.
We're all eating about five minutes later, though, thankfully, and while my mom and Darla are busy talking about some girly nonsense, my dad and Ethan are gabbing about the upcoming football season, me putting my input in every once in a while.
But after one specific comment, one that actually takes some knowledge of the sport, Ethan meets my eye and asks me, "You know football?"
Feeling a bit uneasey because this is the first time we've acknowledged each other since I saw the aloe, I feel a bit of a blush break out on my cheeks. Praying that my dad won't call me out on it like he usually does, I just nod and say, "Yeah. Surprising, I know."
My dad says, "Oh yeah. Hallie here knows her stuff. Hallie's the only one here that'll watch the games with me when I'm in town, and even when I'm not, she'll still watch. We'll usually do the whole texting thing during the big games."
"Hm," Ethan muses, sounding way more than surprised and a bit entertained. He gives me a weird look, and not knowing what to do, I just raise my eyebrows at him in questioning. He chuckles in response, and I can't help it...I smile at the appearance of his smile. There's just something about how white it is, how this one little dimple appears in the right corner, and how one of his teeth is just a bit crooked. It's one of the nicest smiles I've ever seen.
My dad then goes back to digging into his steak, his part of the conversation done. So because no one is probably paying attention to either of us, I mouth over at Ethan, "Thank you," hoping that he knows that I'm talking about the aloe now perched on my dresser and not the football.
He just gives me another quick smile, and for some reason or another, I can totally tell that he's talking about the aloe. His dark green eyes are far too sparkly to be talking about something as mundane as football when he mouths back to me, "You're welcome."
Is it weird that my stomach gets all warm when he does this?
XXXXXX
After dinner everyone flees the room when my mom mentions pickup duty, including my dad who basically ducked and covered faster than anyone. I, unfortunately, was far too slow in doing so and got stuck with the duty, which brings me to where I am now, scrubbing the mashed potatoes from my dad's plate with a nasty grimace on my face.
I've always despised doing the dishes. Something about the wet food just really freaks me out, making my stomach churn every time my skin comes in contact with it. It's disgusting. But because I'm so tired of everyone here thinking that I'm so good-for-nothing loser, I'm going to deal with and mind my own mouth. I'm not going to complain or curse out the dishes like I really, really want to.
No, I'm just going to be a good daughter and keep my mouth shut.
"Of course you're the one in here mumbling to yourself," a deep voice says and it takes just about all of my self-control not to jump in surprise. I'd honestly thought that I'd be alone for the rest of the night, that I'd finish these dishes and then head back up to my room where I'd mess around on my laptop until I fell asleep or something.
I look over my shoulder, the sudsy dish still in my hand, and see Ethan once again leaning on the island in the center of the room, the little smile on his lips telling me that he's been in here for a while, listening to me curse underneath my breath. Awesome. Now I'm a freak. I tell him in defense, "Wet food's beyond disgusting, like no joke."
He chuckles and asks, "Well how about this? I wash, you put them in the dishwasher, and I'll try not to flick wet food on you."
That same warm fuzzy feeling from when he mouthed "You're welcome" at the dinner table to me reappears, and I can't help but want to giggle like a little school girl or something. But, I, of course, am stronger than that and somehow or another hold it in. But I do narrow my eyes at him playfully and say, "Do it and you're dead. But please do help. I don't know how much more I can take."
Before I know it, there's a tall and warm presence standing next to me and he's taking the sopping wet dish from my hands. He quickly gets to scrubbing, "So, Hallie."
"So, Ethan," I respond teasingly, feeling a smug sense of self-satisfaction when I see him smile to himself. Although I know better than to get a crush on the kid, he is extremely nice to look at, and, well, I'm a girl. I'm always going to be happy when I realize I can get someone that looks like that to think I'm somewhat amusing.
He continues, "I think you owe me. You know, for the aloe."
"Oh really?" I ask haughtily, knowing just from the mere tone in his voice that he's just joking. And besides, he definitely does not seem like the type to do someone a favor and expect something in return. He just seems so much nicer than that. "And what exactly do I owe you?"
"I don't know yet," he says simply, causing me to give him a weird look. If he doesn't know what I owe him, how the hell can he tell me I owe him something? "But just know...that one day there will come a time when I need something, and that you'll have to give it to me. Because you owe me."
"I don't think so," I laugh, feeling that damned warm feeling in my stomach come sailing back in. I'm just not used to someone actually liking spending time with me. I don't know what to do about it, how to feel. Does he actually like me as a person or just because I'm the only one around his age that's around? And then it hits me.
I really don't know this guy.
I mean, I know his name and the fact that he's an upcoming country singer and that he's one of the most decent-or seemingly so-guys that I've ever met. I mean, he held a door open for me for Christ's sakes. But I don't know the small details. How old is he, actually? Is he from around here or far away? Does he know people here or not? What's his favorite color?
I need to figure this shit out.
He hands me over another plate to slip into the dishwasher and as he does he breaks me out of my thoughts and says, "There's no way to get out of it, Hallie, okay? I'm sorry, but this has to be done. You have to owe me. Because if not, then I just did something for you out of the kindness of my heart and that just, that just doesn't happen."
This makes me laugh. And not just the cute little giggle that I give Jesse sometimes when he actually chooses to speak. No, this makes me full out belly laugh, with my tears eventually falling from my eyes and my side starting to hurt eventually.
I don't know why I find it so funny, but I think it might be because he's such an upright guy usually. He kind of seems to be like the perfect son that my parents never had. He has manners and he's polite and does things that I've never seen one of my guy friends do. He calls my mom ma'am and my dad sir! Fred and Jesse have never done that.
And so to see him joke around like I do sometimes, like Fred and I joke around...well, it's pretty funny. For a second there I thought he was so gentlemanly that he didn't joke or something. I don't know. I thought something ridiculous, I guess.
I eventually catching him watching me crack up, though, and the amused expression on his handsome face makes me realize that I'm kind of making an ass out of myself right now. So I have to try and suck in the laughter, as hard as it is. It really wasn't even that funny, honestly, like I've heard funny jokes. But for some reason that just cracked me up.
"Sorry," I say through ragged breaths, my stomach still a bit sore from my laughing episode.
He shakes his head, that sincerely amused expression still on his face and says, "No, it's fine. I didn't know I was that funny. Keep laughing, you're boosting my ego here."
"Oh shut up," I joke, not even thinking twice about it when I bump my hip into his. For some reason, I feel really comfortable around him, like we're friends and have been for a while. Maybe it's because the friends I have aren't exactly the greatest and I'm desperate, or if it's just because we've clicked. I don't know. All I know is that, for right now, I have someone who I can joke around with and who doesn't make me feel like I'm not good enough.
I like it.
I like it a lot.