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“What’s wrong?” Jared asks concerned, as we drive away from his manor.
“My mum and dad are so going to murder me. I forgot to call her this afternoon, and my phone is still switched off. They must be worried sick about me.”
“I’ll come in with you and explain,” he offers.
“I don’t think so. Just imagine what they would say if I arrived at home with a strange boy, this late at night,” I insist irately.
He laughs, deep from his belly, and I cannot help but grin while I look at him questioningly.
“You look cute when you are annoyed and worried, especially with all the blue and red lights reflecting off the dashboard onto your face—a little alien.”
I hit him playfully on his upper arm, laughing as well. “Not funny.”
“Hey, don’t harass the driver, these roads take serious navigation.”
“I’m sure they do. I don’t know how I’ll be able to drive here. I am used to big open highways.”
“Yeah, but consider this, would you really and honestly, deep from the bottom of your heart, ever want to trade this scenic drive for a four-lane highway?”
“I suppose not.” Amused, I ask him, “You like David Gray?”
He glances toward me, outwardly unsure of himself. “I do. Does that seem weird?”
Smiling, I say, “No.” Yet truthfully, it does seem funny. I do not know many people my age who like David Gray—often we are more into the popular music of the day.
This is the most words he has spoken to me the entire evening. While we drive, I mostly look out of the window to my side, at the trees flashing by and listening to the music. It feels pleasantly comfortable.
We turn off into the drive to my manor, and I tell Jared, “An artwork in progress, according to my dad.” When speaking to people who did not know me, I always refer to Sean as my dad, it makes for less explaining.
He stops the car in front of the embarrassing building and turns in his seat, looking at me concerned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to the door?”
“No thanks,” I insist.
“Okay, go before your dad comes out here with a shotgun. You know they are illegal in this part of the world, right?” He jokes.
I open the door and start to get out, but then, hesitating, I turn toward him awkwardly and start to take off his jacket.
“No, you can give it to me at school. I wouldn’t want you catching a cold and not be at school tomorrow. I’ll miss you terribly.”
Yes!
As I get out of the car, he leans across the seat I just vacated. “It was really nice to eventually meet you, Elizabeth.”
I smile and say, “Bye,” while closing the door, wondering if he is just being overly polite and what he possibly means with ‘eventually meeting me’.
Walking past the front of his car, I wave again. He waves back, smiling absent-mindedly.
When I walk through my red front door, I turn back to wave once more, but he is already driving away, so I close the door behind me.
Nerves start to bundle into a knot in my stomach.
My mum and Sean are in the lounge and I can hear their soft murmurs from the hall. Every now and again, my mum’s voice gets a higher pitch of anxiety.
The central heating is set to Tropical Island and as I shrug out of Jared’s jacket, my mum walks into the hall, relief washing over her face.
“Where were you?” I can see she is not happy at all, but as always, because she is still feeling responsible for uprooting me from my life, and she wants to please me in some bizarre way, she does not go into full rage mode.
I feel guilty. “I am sorry. I switched off my phone and then forgot to phone you.”
Sean storms into the hall and stares at me accusingly. He does not feel the need to keep me happy. He walks to my mum’s side and puts his arm around her shoulders protectively. “You should have called, you know how your mum gets, especially after we tried to call, and your phone was off. We were just about to call the police.”
“I know. I am sorry I forgot.” I look at my mum, and say pleadingly, “Really, I am sorry.”
“After all your mum’s worry all you can say is sorry. Trust me, we are happy you made new friends, but please do not let this happen again. Your mum needs to know where you are at all times.” Sean carries on. Once he gets started, he can keep going for a long, long time. I look at him, and even though I know I am in the wrong, my mind goes blank. It does not even drift off to think pleasant thoughts. His droning voice shuts down the thought processes in my head. I know he means well. He really loves my mum, but there is no need for a lecture to continue indefinitely. I hear him ask, “Not difficult, is it?”
“No, of course not.”
He smiles, but the smile does not reach his eyes. It is one of those trying to be friendly, but still angry smiles. “Now, go and get changed, young lady.”
I take the stairs to my room two by two. They are forever treating me like a child. My mother is over-protective to the point of smothering and needs to know where I am all the time. Deep down, I know I cannot blame her after the suddenness of my dad’s death. I know and I understand how she worried where he was for hours, before there was a knock at the door, announcing that he died. Still, I need some space–it is very tiresome.
Quickly I change into my pyjamas, and then I shake as much sand as possible out of my school uniform into the shower cubicle. I want to stay in my room and sulk, but I am too hungry, so I go back downstairs in search of dinner.
To keep the peace, before Sean happens upon the idea to ground me indefinitely, I spend the rest of the evening with them, although all I want to do is go to bed and analyse my sudden, crushing feelings for Jared.
When Sean is his pleasant self again, and my mum has relaxed, I say goodnight and go upstairs. My room feels a little comfier than it did that first day, months ago—not much, but I turn a blind eye and snuggle into bed.
I close my eyes and see Jared’s face in front of me. It seems ridiculous and rash, honestly too fast, but I think I love him.
Is that even possible?
I lay daydreaming, reliving every detail of the day in my mind, obviously only the parts involving Jared, for most of the night.
When I eventually do fall asleep, I am smiling contentedly.
