7
When the rain finally stopped, Toby and I started walking back to my house. My clothes were still very damp, and I couldn’t wait to change out of them. I still didn’t really know what to say to him, so Toby did most of the talking on the way back. When we eventually reached my house it was evening, and I stopped in front of the door and turned to him.
“Thank you, again for the books,” I said, holding up my bags of books, which were also slightly damp.
“It’s OK,” he shrugged. “And thank you, I had fun today.”
I thought about how I’d made a fool of myself at least three times in front of him, and got soaked through, yet found that I, too, had fun today.
“Me too,” I said. I then surprised myself by adding, “Maybe we could do it again, some time.”
He smiled. “I hope so.”
He then started to fiddle with his glasses, a gesture I had quickly learned meant that he was nervous. “I guess I’ll see you on Monday, then,” he said, walking backwards down the driveway.
“Yeah, see you then.”
I went inside, and shut the door. As it clicked shut, my mother came down the stairs, in a dress and smelling of perfume. I forgot my parents were going out tonight.
“Oh, there you are, honey,” she said, picking up her purse from the sofa. “You’re back late.”
“Yeah, it was raining, so I stayed in the café for a bit,” I replied, dropping my bags.
“I see you’ve had a successful haul,” she smiled, putting her earrings in.
“Yeah,” I laughed.
She went to the mirror, in the corner and did some last minute checking of her dark hair. “Well, we’re leaving just as soon as you’re father’s ready. I’ve left money for take-away in the kitchen.”
“Alright.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes, moving to the bottom of the stairs. With her hand on her hip, she called, “Jason, we’ll miss our reservations!”
“I’m coming, now! Calm down!” called my father, hurrying down the stairs, still doing his tie.
My mum smoothed his dark hair down, and then pulled the tie from him and started doing it up herself. When she was finished my dad pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and stood and tried to look important and grand.
“I told you I’d be ready on time,” he said, proudly.
“We’re already ten minutes late,” remarked my mother, grabbing their coats.
“What?” he said, puzzled then looked down and started tapping his watch. “Damn watch!”
“Come on,” said my mum, pulling him towards the door.
“But it’s not my fault! The watch is slow.”
“It’s been slow for the last four months, and you keep saying you’ll buy a new one, but then never do.”
I smiled at my father’s innocent expression.
“Well, yes, because I like this watch,” he said.
“Well, I’m sure you can buy one just like it,” my mother replied, as is speaking to a small child.
My father sighed, sadly. Then he turned to me, and smiled before kissing my cheek. “Bye, sweetheart.”
“Bye, Dad.”
They shut the door, and I heard the car start. I picked up the phone, and called up the stairs, “Henry, I’m ordering dinner!”
“Oh, thank God,” he said, suddenly appearing next to me. “I’m starving.”
“What do you want?”
He pondered it for quite a while, but eventually made a decision. “Pizza. Oh, with pepperoni.”
“OK. Now shoo while I’m on the phone,” I said, waving him away and dialling the number.
I laid the pizza box on my bed and, after changing out of my damp clothes and into my pyjamas, sat cross legged opposite Henry. I took a slice and put it on my plate.
“So,” he said, doing the same as me, “how was it, today?”
“It was good, actually,” I replied, taking a bite.
“Really?”
“Really. We bought my books, and got hot chocolate, and we talked. We might even go out again, some time.”
“I’m sorry, this is you we’re talking about, right?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes.”
“Aw, I’m so proud of my baby,” he said, putting a hand over his heart, and pretending to wipe away a tear.
I smiled. “I know.”
“Can I come, next time?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. If you’re good.”
“Please! I don’t like it when I’m not with you!” he begged.
“But, you’re pretty much always with me! It’s only sometimes that I tell you you can’t do stuff with me.”
“Yes, and I miss you during those times.”
“Aww. I miss you, too.”
“So, you missed me today?”
“Of course.”
He seemed happy about this. “Good.”
“You’re so… narcissistic,” I said, with a tut.
“True,” he said, pointing to me. “But I’m also adorable, so you have no choice but to love me.”
“I know,” I sighed.
On Monday, at lunch, I was in my usual space at the settee in the library, with Henry. He was busy trying to convince me that being a singer in a band was a good career for him. He’d already gone over the monetary benefits, and the fact that he wasn’t at all shy, so it’d be easy for him to do. I then pointed out that he had to actually be able to sing.
“Well, that’s not a problem – I’m a great singer,” he said.
“Not to mention modest,” I added.
“Yes, I’m that, too.”
I laughed. “Alright then, if you’re such a great singer, let’s hear you.”
“Oh, no. You’re not worthy enough to hear my amazing vocals,” he said, waving me off.
“Excuse me!?” I said, with mock disbelief. “If I’m not worthy, then who will be!?”
“Oh, you know – kings, queens, presidents, et cetera, et cetera,” he replied, nonchalantly.
“Fine, be like that,” I said, smiling.
“However,” he continued, sitting next to me, “when I become rich and famous – ”
“If you become rich and famous – ”
“No, no, when I become rich and famous, I will make sure that you get a free ticket to all of my concerts.”
I laughed, quietly until I turned my head a fraction and saw, out of the corner of my eye, Mrs Peters talking to the librarian. My smile vanished, and I shrunk low in my seat.
“What are you doing?” laughed Henry.
“Mrs Peters,” was all I said.
He looked over his shoulder and grimaced when he saw her, smiling and talking away. “I think she knows you’re here, she keeps looking over in this direction.”
I rolled my eyes, and sat up. Was she even allowed to do this? Was she allowed to go round, watching me to make sure I socialized? Because, to be fair, I’d made a huge improvement since she saw me last. I’d gone out with Toby, and we’d talked.
See, I thought, I do have friends
“She better not come over here,” I said.
“It’s OK, I think she prefers to just observe you,” Henry replied, patting my leg. “You know, because it’s just so fascinating watching you talk to yourself.”
“I’m talking to you!”
“Well, yes. But she doesn’t know that!”
I sighed. Over by the door, Mrs Peters and the librarian were still talking, and then they began pointing in my direction and nodding.
“Oh no,” I said.
Henry turned around and watched as Mrs Peters sauntered over to us in her high heels. Her dress was impeccably short and tight, and I was surprised she was allowed to come in dressed like that considering she was already so beautiful that the boys made a lot of rather crude remarks about her.
“Hello, Lisa,” she said, sweetly flashing me a smile.
“Mrs Peters,” I replied, curtly. She was being incredibly nice, considering I’d stormed out of her office after our last encounter.
“May I sit?” she asked, sitting down anyway, and almost squashing Henry. Thankfully, he leapt back just in time. As she sat, she smoothed down her dress, and crossed one leg over the other, gracefully. “Well, I just popped in here, for a book and noticed you sat here. Alone.”
Of course. She’d just ‘popped’ in.
“Yes,” I replied, quietly.
“Are any friends joining you?”
“Actually, Henry – the one I told you about – is on his way.”
Since I didn’t know how long she’d been in here, I decided it was best not to say that he’d already been, and had left.
“Really?” she said, eyebrows raised. “Well, I’d very much like to meet this Henry.”
Damn.
“Actually, he might not be here for a while,” I said, quickly. “And, I’d hate for you to waste your time, waiting for him.”
“Oh, it’s no bother,” she replied, cheerfully. God, I hated her. Couldn’t she just mind her own business?
“I’m not joking – we could be sat here for ages, waiting for him.”
She looked at me, her sweet smile plastered to her face. It was obvious to both of us that I was lying through my teeth. “Well then. I suppose I should just leave you to wait for your friend, alone,” she said, standing back up and fluffing her hair, even though it looked perfect anyway.
She left the library, and I sat back in the settee, frustrated. Henry moved back next to me, and I leaned my head against his shoulder.
“I hate her,” I muttered.
“I know,” he said, softly laying a hand on my thigh.