18 Things (21 page)

I felt the sudden urge to take ten.

“Um, I gotta pee.” I jumped up, then followed the little stones back to his house and headed for his room as my heart throbbed. “Okay, Olga, get it together,” I whispered aloud to myself. “There’s nothing to freak out about.”

Except there was. I knew a part of me craved Nate as more than just a buddy, but I wasn’t ready for this. He was supposed to be my safety zone, and suddenly he felt like the most dangerous person I knew.

I scanned his bookshelf, hoping to find one book on philosophy that could give me a gleam of truth to calm myself down. One titled
Wisdom for Dummies
caught my eye, and as I pulled it out, something fell to the floor. Sucking in air through my teeth, I opened the book and read the first thing I saw.

“Our physical bodies are often a sign of what’s going on with our emotions.”

No dip, Sherlock!

After replacing the book on the shelf, I bent down and retrieved what fell a moment ago. It was a journal, Nate’s personal journal, filled with written accounts of his dreams. I knew I shouldn’t be looking at it. I didn’t know if I consciously searched for my name or not, but I found something more curious in the form of a poem.

Today I had this vision of what’s to come.

It’s of you standing in the morning sun.

It came afar by a gentle wind,

The speaker invisible, had a message to send.

Although this speaker possessed no form,

He saw you and no longer mourned.

He knew you still had many tasks to do,

And the courageous path would be the one you choose.

He said to tell you death you need not fear,

For he is here, drawing you near.

This vision, I hope is a wonderful sign,

For I see it clearly through my pondering eyes.

It’s complete with a union, full of purpose and plan,

And it’s of the day when I’ll ask for your hand.

This dream comes from impractical thoughts, but I wish it were true,

Because since the day we met, I can’t imagine life without you.

Tearing the poem out carefully, I felt faint. I positioned the pages so they were hidden in my purse, then replaced the journal on the shelf. I knew I couldn’t stay.

I scrawled a note, then left it on his dresser.

“Is everything okay?”

I looked him straight in the eye and immediately regretted it. “Um, no. I’m not feeling well. I’m just gonna head home.”

Brows drawing together to form a perfect unibrow, he asked, “But what about the meteor shower? And your mom?”

A long pause followed as I considered his point, but one look at Nate stopped my blood circulation, and I knew I had to jet. “Uh, rain check, and I’ll figure it out. Thanks for dinner.”

With my chin dipping to my chest, I rushed past him.

“Wait. Let me walk you.”

A thin sheen of sweat formed on my forehead, but I fought the impulse to wipe it. “No. I told my parents I was with Tammy, remember?”

He followed me to the front door. “Well, then, I’ll walk with you until we see the entrance to your apartment building.”

I’d learned control from almost eighteen years of living with my mother, so I forced my voice to remain dry and calm now. “I’ll be fine. My house isn’t far. I can send you a text when I get there if that makes you feel better.”

Nate curled his fingers into his hair and said, “Olga, I’m so sorry if this date was too much for you, if you weren’t ready. I didn’t mean to…”

A silence more awkward than anything I’d ever felt hung between us as he finally called this night what it really was. A date. Immediately my mind flashed back to the day Conner died. I knew however much I cared for Nate, I had to give him the cold shoulder now. “No, it’s fine. It’s not that I can’t handle being here. I just don’t feel good. I’ll see ya later.”

I quickly descended his porch steps, not giving him another chance to debate. The stinging tears I’d fought back finally flowed freely. I knew I was a coward for running away like that, but fleeing the scene was what I did best.

“Yesterday is a memory, tomorrow is a mystery
and today is a gift―which is why it is called the present.”
―Unknown

appy Halloween,” Nicole said when I opened the front door. She handed me two presents. “And happy birthday.”

I’d always thought it ironic Mom birthed me on the only day of the year she viewed as pure pagan evil.

“Thanks.” I automatically knew the one wrapped in the fancy orange paper and lavish bow was from her, and I didn’t need to read the card on the other one either, wrapped in green, to know who it was from.

“That one is from Nate.”

“Yeah, I figured,” I said, my voice irritated.

Nic cleared her throat. “So, let me get this straight; you bail on your first date, even steal his poetry, avoid him for two weeks, but he still buys you a present, and you’re the one annoyed?”

I shuffled to the couch, in my comfy slipper socks; Mom’s only present to me. “I just wish he’d get a clue.”

She plopped down next to me and grinned. “I don’t think someone who dreamed asking for your hand is giving up easily.”

I’d shown his poem to Nicole. She took that line to mean marriage and figured it had to be about me because who else could he like? Her assessment totally freaked me out. I reminded myself daily about the vow I made to myself after Conner’s death: never fall in love again.

My life list definitely didn’t include that one, no matter what Nic and Tammy thought was best for me. Better safe than sorry. That didn’t mean I stopped thinking about Nate though. I wished there was a switch to turn off those butterfly-inducing feelings. Oh wait, there was, it’s called guilt. So any time he tried to call my house and I saw his number pop up on the I.D. display, I let the phone ring and told my parents not to answer, that the caller was unknown or just spam. When I spotted him in the halls at school, I walked the other way and on occasion, engaged a random stranger in a convo so he wouldn’t be tempted to invade my space and start talking to me.

“Does he ever say anything about me?” I asked Nic, peeling away her bow, carefully unwrapping the paper so I could reuse it.

“Not to me,” she said, gathering her long black hair in her hands and laying it across one shoulder. “And if he does to Sean, he’s not spilling the beans.”

I nodded and studied the contents in my lap. Inside Nicole’s box were chic black leather shorts, a shimmering gold sweater, and a large pair of feathery earrings.

“Those earrings look like the ones girls wear at strip clubs,” Mom said, on the way to the kitchen for a coffee refill.

I rolled my eyes. “How would you know, Mom?”

Nicole tried not to laugh as Mom shot us a don’t-mess-with-me look.

“Oh, come on. It’s my birthday. You have to be nice to me.”

Ha! That shut her up. She pursed her lips, then turned her back on me and left the room.

I hugged Nicole. “Thanks for the outfit. It’s perfect, just like my best friend.”

She shoved Nate’s present in my lap. “Don’t forget this one.”

Inside Nate’s box awaited a Magic 8-Ball wrapped in tissue paper and a voucher for a free firewalk in Cedar Springs, a town about an hour from Grand Haven, and a note. “Happy birthday to a real groovy chick. I’m glad I got to know you this year. Good luck with crossing all the stuff off your list before your next birthday. Thought I’d help you out with these two things. Ask the 8-Ball if you should come firewalking with me tonight to commemorate becoming an official adult. Call me if the outlook is good.”

Nicole let loose a snort of laughter, and I chuckled to myself.

“He sure does have a way with words. Go ahead and ask the Ball,” she said.

After shaking the plastic ball up for a good ten seconds, I peeked at the transparent window on the bottom of the Ball for my answer. “As I see it, yes.”

“Yesss!” She pumped her hand in the air. “Call Nate and tell him.”

“No way. I’m not going on another date with him.”

“We’ll all go. It’ll be fun.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears.”

“You know, you’re starting to sound like your mother now that you’re an adult.”

I wanted to punch her in the face. Instead, I hugged her goodbye, then completed my chores so Mom would let me go out later.
Do I really want to go?
The wondering made me restless enough to take a walk, but I got distracted by Dad walking across the parking lot, tinkering in our one-car garage.

“Whatcha doing, old man?”

Dad looked at me, his face rosy and shiny. “Just cleaning out some old junk.”

I smiled. “Don’t you know how to kick back on the weekends?”

He threw his head back in laughter. “Now you know your mother would never let me get away with that. Heard you got some big birthday plans with your friends tonight, eh?”

Shrugging, I perused the shelves hanging on the wall of the garage. I hardly ever came in here. Even when I went somewhere with my parents, Dad pulled the car out first so Mom and I could get in without banging the doors against the sides. But it was no surprise the garage appeared very neat and organized, just as my parents liked every aspect of their lives.

“So, you traded all the cardboard boxes for rubber bin storage? Nice…”

I spied the retro mahogany trunk that used to be in my room. Back when I was a child, the trunk was filled with stuffed animals, but we donated those long ago. I pulled it off the shelf and gawked. The trunk must’ve weighed at least thirty pounds. After popping open the lock, I discovered a much different kind of child’s treasure inside, although there was a Winnie-the-Pooh bear that Aunt Tara brought to the hospital the day I was born. I quickly picked through the award certificates, spelling bee medals, school folders with pictures of Tiny Toon characters containing samples of my work, and classic fairy tale books.

I didn’t know what I searched for until I found it, which happened often in my life. But what I really wanted was nothing new. It came in the form of an envelope stuffed with my letters to the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny, and Santa Claus. The one dated from the year 2001 mentioned him.

Dear Santa Claus,

I have not been good or bad but okay. I’ve had a few fights with Conner. This year I want world peace, a new name, a basset hound, a DVD of the Lizzie McGuire show, and the joy of Christmas. Oh, and for Conner to get everything on his list too.

Love,

Olga

A stabbing hurt rose from my heart, came out as a strangled cry, and tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Hey, hun, you okay?” Dad leaned over my shoulder. “Oh, maybe we should put this away.”

Dad’s voice sounded worried, and I couldn’t blame him after I swallowed that whole bottle of pills after Conner’s death. Still, I was irritated and just wanted to be left alone. And since it was my birthday, I should’ve been able to demand that one thing.

“I’m fine, Dad. Can you give me a minute out here by myself?”

“Well, I was finished in here anyway, so I guess it’s okay, if you’re sure you’re alright.”

I nodded and glanced toward the parking lot, watching him go while some kids zoomed by on their bikes. I couldn’t help but think that just like them, life goes by so fast. It’s like I blinked, and everything I thought was there disappeared. I’d give anything to be a kid again without a care in the world.