Messed Up (5 page)

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Authors: Molly Owens

Tags: #C429, #Extratorrents, #Kat

BOOK: Messed Up
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Okay,” he called over his shoulder, almost running to keep up with his friends.

All of a sudden Levi turned around and came back to where I was standing. He put his hand gently on my elbow and looked into my eyes, “You going to be okay by yourself?” I was shocked by how sincerely concerned he sounded.


Completely,” I answer quietly.

He nodded, smiled and walked away.

 

As I suspected, finding my refuge under the tree was an impossible feat. Luckily, the concession area was deserted as most of the concert goers had hurried to the stage area to hear Linkin Park. Apparently, they were the headlining show. I took the opportunity to get something to eat, a corndog and a Dr. Pepper, and found a seat at an empty picnic table. I read my book as I ate.

Soon, the sun went down and it was too dark to read. I realized that I was shivering. The stadium was near the ocean, which brought with it a heavy marine layer that thoroughly chilled me. Consequently, I quickly found that the sweater I had brought was entirely inadequate for the freezing night it had become. I decided to go back to Toby’s mom, figuring she might have an extra layer that I could borrow. At any rate, it could take me a while to find her.

I climbed the steep hill to the back of the stadium. The music sounded like loud noise in my unwilling ears. I did my best to tune it out. I considered, very briefly, putting in the ear plugs, but felt that was an unwise idea as long as Levi was within a three mile radius. I began to look forward to a quiet car ride home. There would be no conversation with Toby, on my end anyway.

I didn’t see Toby’s mom where I thought she had been, so I walked clear across the stadium along the top looking everywhere. I still couldn’t find her, so I retraced my steps once more. By this point Linkin Park had done three, uncalled for in my opinion, encores. People clapped and screamed wildly. The band left the stage and all their fans began pushing towards the exits like there was a fire at their backs. I look down the hill which was once covered in people, and was now equally covered in the trash they’d left behind. Slobs, I thought.

As I stood alone watching the crowds quickly dwindling, panic began to set it. How was I supposed to find Toby? I didn’t pay attention to where we’d parked, so I couldn’t just head to the car. Would they leave without me? I started calculating how long it would take my dad to come and pick me up and how exceedingly unpleased he would be by that scenario. I dug my phone out of my backpack and flipped it open. I nearly screamed when I saw that the screen was blank; the battery was dead.

Just then I looked down the hill, my eyes passing over a large group of people, and as if in a dream, I spotted Levi. I considered my options carefully and determined that he was my best hope of getting home anytime within the next millennia. Levi would certainly be able to help me locate Toby, or Bryce, or at the very least let me use his cell phone. I took a couple deep breathes, swallowing my pride. I would now be known to him as the girl who was ditched twice, three times if you counted the night before last.

I walked quickly toward him, not wanting to lose my courage. As I got closer I noticed that the group he was standing with was largely comprised of girls; very attractive girls no less. Crap. My jaw began to chatter, largely because of the cold, but I’m sure nerves had their role in it.


Levi,” I called in the strongest voice I could muster.

He turned around slowly, a small, but lovely smile appearing on his face as his eyes met mine, “Chelsea,” he said simply. He turned back to the group of girls to say goodbye. I noticed that he held his hand out to one of the girls in a kind of low-five gesture. Their fingers did a flirty intertwining dance as their hands pulled away.

“Bye Levi,” she said in a sing-songy voice.

“See ya, Camille,” he said, already turning his attention back to me, “You’re freezing,” he commented, immediately pulling off his black hooded sweatshirt and handing it to me.

“Thanks,” I put it on without a moment’s hesitation, “Listen,” I continued, “I don’t know what to do. I can’t find Toby. His mom pulled a full-on Houdini and is nowhere. My cell phone is beyond the grave. I’m standing on this freaking hill of trash, and don’t feel like camping out. ” It occurred to me that it may have been wise to think about what I was going to say before I let my mouth run on its own.

Levi leaned down slightly and pulled the hood up over my head, taking care to tuck my hair behind each ear. I shivered reflexively as his fingers briefly brushed against my cheek.


Come with me. I’ll drive you home,” he said, looking me in the eyes.

“But what about Toby’s mom? She’s probably wondering where I am. I don’t want her to get all pissy. I’m supposed to be working at Yogurt Heaven this summer.” He had already grabbed the cuff of his sweatshirt that hung about foot below my hand and was guiding me toward the exit.

“I’ll call Marcy from the car and let her know you’re all safe and sound. She loves me. It won’t be a problem,” he gave me a sideways glance and smiled. “You know, this is, literally, a hill of trash. This whole place was built on an old landfill. On hot days, if the wind blows just right, you can smell a century of people’s leftovers.”

“Mmm, yummy. Sound delicious.” I replied feeling myself relax.

 

Levi’s car was, inexplicably, less than a hundred feet from the arena. Bryce and Noah were already in the car when we got there.


Noah, let Chelsea have shot gun,” Levi said with an authoritative edge to his voice.

Noah began to move without comment, but I quickly interjected, “No. Don’t worry about it. I mean, I am just extra baggage. I’d be happy in the trunk.” I quickly climbed into the back seat next to Bryce.

The car started quietly and we drove away from the arena. I noticed that the expansive gravel parking lot had morphed into a gigantic grid-locked traffic jam. I could hear Levi on the phone with Toby’s mom, explaining, in a polite and responsible tone, that he would be driving me home.

“You’re lucky you’re with us, Chelsea,” he said, looking back at me through the rearview mirror, “
They’re going to be here for a while
,” he gestured to the traffic jam that we’d somehow avoided completely. You don’t know the half of it, I thought to myself.

As we got on the freeway, Levi reached over to switch on his CD player. Load booming music, reminiscent of what had been blaring in my ears all day, blasted out of the speakers. I could see Levi’s eyes smile in the mirror at the reflexive jolt my body made at the unwelcomed sound. He reached over and pressed a button on the radio. Slow and sad piano music came on. It felt as if it was caressing my bruised eardrums. My body relaxed into the cushy leather seat.

“Better?” he asked.

“Monumentally,” I sighed.

We rode in silence. Noah closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep, while Bryce busied himself playing Angry Birds on his iPhone. I gazed out of the window at the dark night, watching as flashes of light from the city slid into the distance. I let the wordless music wash over me.

Every so often I allowed myself to glance at the review mirror. Each time I did, Levi’s stunning eyes were looking back at me. Eventually, I leaned my head against the cool window and closed my heavy eyes. I could smell the fresh, clean scent of Levi’s sweatshirt. I marveled at how anything could smell so sweet and so masculine at the same time.

 

The car stopped and I opened my eyes, realizing we were in front of my house. Levi was out of the car and opening my door before I had come to full consciousness.

“Hey sleeping beauty,” he said in a gentle whisper.

“Hey,” I smiled groggily, climbing out of his car and swinging my backpack over my shoulders, “Oh, your sweatshirt,” I realized, beginning to take it off.

“Keep it. I’ll get it later.” Later is perfect.

“Thanks. For everything,” I said looking him in straight in the face. I hoped I looked as sincere as I felt.

“No problem. It’s not every day that I get to come to the rescue of a beautiful woman,” he replied with a smile. Beautiful? Woman? Huh? I nodded slightly, and started to walk toward my house, and then turned back to him.

“Nice hat, by the way,” I said nodding up to the hat he had illicitly acquired that afternoon.

“Glad you like it,” he smiled with a wink.

I walked away feeling like I had just come off the twirly ride at the fair, my stomach and mind in a jumble.

5

 

The next day I was busy for a change, which was good because it made it much easier to screen Toby’s calls; twelve in all. It was my sister, Julie’s twenty-sixth birthday, so my parents and I made the trek to San Francisco to celebrate with her. Top on her list of things she wanted to do for her birthday was to pick out a new pair of True Religion jeans, an obsession for both of us. After a greasy, but delicious meal at a dim sum restaurant, my mom handed over her credit card, reminding Julie that the jeans would pretty much obliterate her birthday money. My parents then opted out of the shopping trip in favor of seeing the new Dali exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art.

After an obligatory stop at Starbucks for vente caramel lattes, we headed straight for the True Religion shop in Union Square. Ah, the glory of stylee denim.

I followed my sister up and down the aisles holding out my arms as she piled them high with denim. “I feel like your personal Sherpa,” I commented sarcastically.


Aren’t you?” she joked. I was actually more like an indentured servant to my sister and had been since the day my parents brought me home from the hospital when she was ten. My whole life I had been trying to work off the debt I carried for being the surprise sister she had not wanted. This relationship worked relatively well for us, all things considered.

I trailed my sister into her dressing room hoisting the stack of jeans on the bench next to me. The fashion show began. We had a well designed system for choosing jeans: 1. Rate the jeans on a scale of one to five for overall fit, 2. Determine the best function for the jeans (going out, every day wear, first date, time-of-the-month, etcetera), 3. Establish the ideal shoes to wear with the jeans. The whole process could take hours. So I hunkered down with my latte in hand.

Julie pulled on a pair of flair pants with thick stitching down the leg and amber buttons on the pockets, and inspected herself in the mirror.


Hmm… Going out, I think,” I commented.


I don’t know… A cute t-shirt and my ‘Verses would dress them down,”


No way. The buttons are way too over the top for tennis shoes,” I said definitively.


You’re right little sister. I’ve taught you well,” she pulled them off and reached for another pair, “So how are you holding up without Hannah? Mom says you seem marginally less mopey.”


I’m okay. Just bored,” I replied, refolding the discarded pair of jeans, “I did meet a cute boy though. Actually more than cute,” I corrected, “incredibly, irresistibly hot.”


Ooh. Give it to me from the top. No details spared.”


There’s really not that much to tell. He’s only vaguely aware of my existence,” I said, but then went on to tell the whole story starting at my first sighting of Levi at 7-Eleven, straight through the humiliating day from hell at the scream-a-thon, (er, I mean concert), to the witty and overtly flirty finale last night. Julie got a real kick out of the embarrassing parts, practically screaming when I mentioned earplugs.


Sounds like the attraction is mutual,” she surmised, “Sleeping beauty and all that.”


Maybe. Or maybe he is just a huge player,” I pointed out.


Does it matter? If he’s flirting with you then he’s at least interested. Not every guy you date has to be boyfriend material, Chels. Just have some fun. Keep it casual,” she looked at me with suddenly serious eyes.


If you say so Dr. Phil,” I snorted.


Take it from me. Life is too short and you are too young to be looking for a serious relationship,” she returned her attention to her reflection and the bootleg black denim she had squeezed into, “Umm. These are hideous,” she frowned.

 

I was still seeing mounds of pricey denim in my dreams that night when the phone rang loudly, jolting me to consciousness. I stumbled from my bed, grabbing the phone quickly from its base. I glanced at my alarm clock-- one thirty-two AM. I reasoned that it must be Hannah calling from her strange new time zone.

“Hello?” I said, sure I sounded more asleep than awake.

“Chelsea? It’s Bryce,” What the hell? I thought confused, is this Toby’s new approach to getting me on the phone?

“What do you want Bryce?” I grumbled letting my voice sound as annoyed as I felt.

“I’m with Levi. Can we come over? We need to talk to you about something.”

“What? It’s the middle of night,” I answered with less irritation now that I knew who he was with.

“Chelsea,” the voice changed, “Its Levi. Can I come in? I have a proposition for you,” his supple voice was irresistible.

“Yeah, I guess. Where are you?” I asked while quickly pulling my hair into a ponytail, suddenly wide awake.

“In front of your house.” I peeked out of my window and saw him leaning against his car waving up at me with a small smile. A thousand and one butterflies stirred in the pit of my stomach.

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