Watch Over Me (9 page)

"I have no idea. I don't even know anything about him."

Dr. Thompson laughs lightly at my frustrated response.

"Then ask him. Get to know him. Open yourself up to someone. Maybe the reason why
you feel so comfortable with him so soon is because you know he doesn't know anything
about you. You don't have to be worried about the fact that he
might
judge you or he
might
pity you," she explains.

"You make it sound like he wouldn't do those things if he knew everything about me."

Dr. Thompson shrugs. "I don't know if he would or wouldn't, but neither do you. And
you never will if you don't give him a chance. He could very well prove you wrong."

She makes it sound so easy. She doesn't understand that both of those ideas scare
me more than I care to admit. What if he turns out to be someone I could trust? What
then? I would only end up hurting him when he realizes the type of person I've become.

"Dude, are you feeling okay? I haven't seen you smile this much since…um, ever. Did
your doctor change your meds or something?" Meg asks curiously as I wipe the smile
from my face, not even realizing that I'm doing it. I can't help it. It's been two
weeks since I sat outside in the sun with Zander and laughed harder than I had in
a long time.

No matter how hard I tried not to think about it, I was excited to get up this morning
and come to the bakery, knowing I would get to see him. He's been in every single
day for the past two weeks, and instead of just sitting at his usual table, he stood
next to the counter and watched me work each time.

"So, what are you making now?" Zander asked as he drained his coffee cup and pitched
it behind the counter into the trashcan.

"White chocolate macadamia nut cookies," I told him as I crossed it off my list. The
peanut butter chocolate chunk cookies I'd just finished with were now cooling on the
counter next to him.

I turned around to face him and caught him shoveling two cookies into his mouth.

"Hey! Hands off the merchandise," I scolded as I smacked his hand when he reached
for another one.

"But you put them right in front of me!"

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and pouted. His mouth turned down in a frown.
It was impossible not to laugh at how dramatic he was acting.

I moved the tray out of his reach. "I put them in front of you to cool, not so you
could inhale them."

"Just think of me as quality control. You wouldn't want to feed your customers bad
cookies, would you? Obviously someone needs to make sure all of the cookies are delicious.
It's okay, you don't have to pay me. The obvious joy on your face is thanks enough."

He's left a napkin behind every single day when I'm not looking, and I still pretend
like they annoy me so Meg will get off my case. It's hard to be irritated, though,
when yesterday's napkin said he loved my dimples when I smile.

I've started tacking each and every napkin to the bulletin board in my room, but I'll
never tell anyone that. I'll never admit that each night after I type my note to my
mom before I go to sleep, I stare at all of the napkins and the messages written on
them. I read through each and every one of them before I crawl into bed, and for some
strange reason, it's helped keep the bad dreams away. Ever since I received the first
napkin from Zander, I've stopped having the same recurring dream that my mother is
still alive and wants nothing to do with me. I no longer wake up each night with tears
on my cheeks and a scream in my throat as I try to shake off the remnants of the dream
where I'm chasing after her, calling her name, but she won't turn around or acknowledge
me. I've spent plenty of time on the internet researching what this dream could mean,
and all of the answers leave me with a feeling of dread. All of the emotions I've
kept buried for so long are manifesting themselves into the one thing I'm most afraid
of: that my mother is ashamed of my behavior and that's why she doesn't acknowledge
me in my dreams.

I ignore Meg's incessant chatter behind me about a rude customer that was in the store
the day before. I look at the clock and wonder if Zander will be on time today or
running late again like yesterday. I don't even know what he does for a living. Or
how old he is. Or his last name. Jesus, this is crazy and I probably DO need to change
my meds. We've been talking for weeks and haven't spoken about anything of importance.

The bell above the door dings, and I can't keep the smile off of my face even with
Meg standing right by my side and staring at me with her mouth wide open because I'm
practically bouncing up and down with happiness when I see him. Zander returns my
smile and walks up to the counter.

"So, my mom's birthday is coming up and I really want to bake her a cake," he says
in greeting as I pour his usual cup of coffee, and he takes a seat at the one and
only barstool on the other side of the counter that Meg brought out last week from
the storage room just for him.

"Um, yay?" I reply in confusion, not really sure why he's telling me this.

"Here's the thing. I can make a mean piece of cinnamon and sugar toast and my microwave
chicken nuggets are TO DIE FOR, but other than that, I'm kind of clueless in the kitchen,"
he says with a sheepish smile.

He looks down at his coffee and busies himself stirring in his sugar. I can see a
faint blush on his cheeks, and it suddenly occurs to me that he's embarrassed. I don't
know why, but it's the cutest thing I've ever seen. He always seems so confident and
sure of himself, and it's a little intimidating. But right now he's on my turf, and
he's asking for my help with something I'm pretty damn good at.

"Do you want me to bake something for her?"

He looks up at me, and I can't help starring as he tugs his bottom lip into his mouth.

"That would be cheating. And she would totally know I cheated, and I'd never hear
the end of it. She still likes to tell everyone the story about when I was in kindergarten
and tried to bribe my bus driver with chocolate chip cookies if she would do my homework
for me for a week. Store bought chocolate chip cookies, mind you. Imagine what she
would do with the knowledge that I had a professional baker make her a cake and tried
to pass it off as my own?" he asks me in horror.

He rests his hands flat on the counter and leans across it so he's closer to me. I
hold my breath as he stares deeply into my eyes.

"Teach me how to bake. Help me, Addison. You're my only hope," he whispers seriously.

I swallow thickly and feel my heart speed up in my chest as he looks at me imploringly.
I don't even know what he just said to me; all I can think about is listening to his
soothing voice, even if he's just reciting the alphabet or reading the phone book.

Meg suddenly laughs loudly, and I jump in surprise, not even realizing she's still
standing there next to me, watching this whole exchange. I take a step away from the
counter and mentally shake myself out of the trance Zander has put me in with his
pretty face and his pretty voice.

Stupid pretty boy.

"Oh my God, you totally just quoted Star Wars! You, my friend, go straight to the
top of the awesome list," Meg tells him with a big smile as she moves next to me and
wraps her left arm around my shoulder and clamps her right hand tightly over my mouth.
"Addison would love to teach you how to bake. The shop closes at six-thirty tonight,
so be here by six-forty-five. Just knock on the back door."

I struggle against Meg's arm and try to talk around her hand against my mouth, but
she's not having any of it. She tightens her hold and brings the heel of her boot
down on top of my toe. I let out a squeak of pain from behind her hand and shoot her
a dirty look with my eyes.

Zander looks back and forth between us and laughs.

"Well, that's very nice of Addison to offer her services. Meg, could you tell her
that I greatly appreciate it and I will be here at six-forty-five on the dot?"

He winks and smiles at me before bringing the cup of coffee up to his mouth and taking
a sip. I forget about struggling and I sag against Meg as we both watch him get off
of the stool, turn, and walk out of the shop.

"That guy has a great ass," Meg says softly with a sigh, her hand still over my mouth
having forgotten to remove it because she's too busy staring at all that pretty. I
just nod my head silently in agreement to her ass statement. We both stand there in
a daze, staring at the door he just walked through until the timer goes off on one
of the ovens and the reality of what Meg just did hits me like a two-by-four to the
face. I bang my hip into hers and elbow her in the side until she drops her arms from
around me with an irritated shout of pain.

"Hey, what was that for?" she complains as she rubs her side.

"Are you kidding me? ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?" I whisper yell at her so the customers
won't hear my outburst. "Why would you do that? Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"

Meg rolls her eyes at me as I start pacing back and forth behind the counter, wondering
how quickly I can get a passport and leave the country.

"Seriously, chill out. He's just a guy. A very cute guy who obviously likes you. All
morning you've been walking around here in a creeptastic cloud of happiness and it's
because of HIM."

She walks over and stands directly in front of me so I have to stop my manic pacing
and stare at her.

"You and I both know that life sucks. At any minute something crappy could happen,
and the two of us just sit around just waiting for the crappy and expecting it. When
something good happens, we have to reach out and grab it, otherwise our lives will
turn into one giant run-on sentence of daily sucks. I'm tired of the sucks, Addy.
Come on, be tired of the sucks with me."

She wags her eyebrows at me, and I let out a sigh.

"Come on, all your friends are doing it," she says with a laugh as she reaches out
and shoves my shoulder.

I chuckle at her exuberance as she skips around me and heads back into the kitchen
to remove the cupcakes—that are probably burnt now—from the oven.

She's right. I know she's right. Life is a daily crapshoot and you never know what's
going to happen next. I used to love the thrill of never knowing what life would bring
and the excitement of waking up to a brand new day and all of the possibilities. Now
I spend each day full of dread that something bad will happen. I wake up each morning
wondering what will go wrong next. I don't enjoy the little things anymore because
I know something bigger will come along that will swallow up those little things and
make them disappear like they were never there. What's the point in enjoying those
little things when they'll be gone soon?