Miss Me Not (11 page)

"Twins?"
I asked enviously. I would have loved one sibling, but two would have been amazing.

"Yeah, the beauty of fertility drugs, which my parents thought I needed to know at the tender age of thirteen. Believe
me,
no thirteen-year-old boy wants to hear about fertility drugs, let alone his parents' sex life. They're lucky I didn't need counseling."

The corners of my mouth twitched, pulling up slightly at each side. Dean's open attitude was unlike anybody I'd ever met. I couldn't help responding. Thankfully, he was looking down at his backpack and missed my lapse.

"What time do your parents get home?" he asked conversationally as he pulled out
a chemistry
textbook.

"Why?" I asked sharply, suddenly aware of how alone we were. Maybe he was hoping to score as payment for paying attention to me. I knew girls put out for a whole lot less, so I wouldn't have been surprised.

"I need to know if my jeep is in the way," he said, looking puzzled at my sharp tone.

"Oh," I said feeling like a complete dip. "My parents are separated, and you'll be long gone by the time Donna gets home."

"Donna? You call your mom by her first name?"

"Uh, yeah, it was a sort of a compromise we made when I was thirteen."

"Does she always work such late hours?"

"She goes right to church from work every day," I said, reaching for my phone. "You want a snack? I can order a pizza," I asked.

"Sure. I'm a guy, I'm always hungry," he said, patting his flat stomach.

I nodded like I knew all about the appetites of the opposite sex, when in actuality I didn't have a clue. My dad had been a stranger before he ever moved out. All my other experiences with the opposite sex hadn't involved food.

Pulling my thought away from the road I didn't want to travel down, I dialed Al's Pizza
Palazooa
.

"Al's Pizza," a familiar voice answered.

"Hey Al, can I get a large pepperoni?"

"Sure thing, Madison.
Chuck just walked in, so your order will be the next to go out. Do you need me to send a couple cans of Coke?"

"No, I have some. Thanks."

"No problem, sugar."

"Family?"
Dean asked when I hung up the phone.

"No, I've just been a loyal customer. I order from Al's a lot."

"So your mom really goes to church every night? That's effed up," he said, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table.

Foreign laughter bubbled up in my throat and erupted before I could cap it off. Hearing someone else justifying my feelings about Donna's obsession with her church was gratifying. I clamped a hand over my mouth to cut off my laughter.

Dean looked at me with an expression that was hard for me to discern. "You have an amazing laugh," he said softly.

"You should really stop taking drugs. They're seriously screwing with your brain cells," I retorted, unsure how to accept his compliment.

"You know, it's okay to accept a compliment every once in awhile," he chided. "Anyway, so why does your mom go to church so much?"

"I don't know. She always has. When my parents were still together they'd both
go.
I spent the majority of the evenings when I was little in some form of daycare. I put my foot down when I hit junior high. I flat-out refused to step foot in the church again. I'm pretty sure they were relieved. I guess you could say not being as devoted as the other members was a thorn in their side."

"That's whack. Any church that requires their members to attend every night borders on crazy."

"Truth," I said, sitting on the floor beside him. He grinned at me before turning back to his book so he could work on some sample problems. Following suit, I opened my own math book. It'd been years since I'd actually done any homework. It didn't count in the grading module the school district had adopted, so I took that as my excuse to bow out. Teachers still assigned homework to help prepare students for the summative testing, but they couldn't force the issue. They pretty much relied on the parents to police the homework. Needless to say, Donna didn't police anything I did.

Dean and I worked in compatible silence until the pizza arrived.

I grabbed a twenty from the kitchen drawer and headed for the front door. Dean was already there handing over his own twenty.

"Hey, Chuck," I said, taking the pizza from the delivery guy.

"Hey, Madison, see you in a couple days."

"Count on it," I said, closing the door. "You don't have to pay for the pizza. It's on Donna," I said, trying to hand him the twenty that was clutched in my hand.

"Nah, it's good. I didn't realize that I was eating your dinner though."

"That's why I ordered a large. I'm a two-slice kind of person," I said, setting the pizza on the coffee table. "I'm going to go get us a couple sodas. Is Coke okay?"

"Sure," he said, sitting back down on the floor.

A few minutes later, I joined him with a couple of plates, napkins and the sodas. Dean asked me inane questions while we ate. I answered all of them, smiling slightly at the ridiculousness at some of them. I couldn't remember a time I'd been as content as I was at that moment. If I didn't know better, I would say I was happy. But that was impossible. Happiness wasn't in my DNA makeup. Was it?

We studied for a couple more hours after I cleaned up the remains of our dinner. I was slowly getting used to having him around and found myself wishing that time would slow down.

"I guess I better head home," Dean finally said, stretching the kinks out from sitting on the floor so long.

"Right," I said, trying to push my reluctance back so he wouldn't see it.

"Lunch tomorrow?" he asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"I don't know. Are you going to stand me up again?" I asked.

"No, ma'am," he said, giving me a mock salute.

"Fine, I guess."

He laughed at my indifferent answer. "See you tomorrow,
Mads
."

"Night," I said, closing the door behind him. The silence of the house enveloped me as I leaned back against the door. I fought the sudden prickling of tears.
Being alone sucked.

The next few weeks traipsed along without incident. Dean actually showed up for lunch every day, and I tried my best to appear normal. Our tentative friendship was changing into something more. I tried to hold on to the "friend" façade, but Dean kept changing the game up every time I turned around. He somehow got me like no other person had before.
Every once in awhile he'd slip in a probing question, digging just a little deeper.
His slower approach left me opening up more than I normally would have. His presence began to ebb away some of the darkness in my life, allowing a ray of light to dance on the outskirts. The only thing that marred my new friendship with Dean was my slowly unraveling friendship with James. Our lunches together had become few and far between, and I couldn't help feeling guilty.

"So, tonight I'm going to show you my own version of family fun night," Dean announced. His words hung between us as we gathered up the remains of our lunch.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked, instantly apprehensive. His constant little pushes were breaking every rule I'd set as he continually redefined what our friendship was.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," he said, heading off toward the science building. I waited several minutes and then trailed behind him. As a rule, I wouldn't let him walk me to class. I told him it was to cut back on the gossip. I was trying to keep his reputation in tact as much as I could. He was confident that I was overdramatizing the reaction of his friends if they knew we hung out together. He was so naive. My past would tarnish anyone's reputation.
Even one as strong as his.

I was almost to class that day when I saw James ahead of me. I picked up my pace so I could talk to him.

"Hey," I said, breathing a little heavily as I finally caught up to him.

"Hey, how's the studying?" he said, calling me out on the lame excuses I'd given a couple weeks ago.

"Not bad. My tutor turned out to be halfway decent," I answered, coming clean, sort of. "We've been doing a lot of studying in the afternoons too."

"Wow, you're taking your classes pretty seriously lately," he said, eyeing me skeptically.

"I figure if I'm going to do this whole living thing, I needed to fix a few things," I said quietly. Squeaking by had been fine when I thought it wouldn't matter. Knowing that I was sticking around had changed my outlook. Well, that and Dean's influence.

"That's great, Madison," he said, sounding anything but sincere.

I knew I was letting him down, and in a weird way I felt bad. My changing was irrevocably changing our superficial friendship forever. Our combined darkness had given us a common bond. What would happen if I continued to change?

"Why don't you join us for lunch on Monday?" I said as sudden inspiration struck. "Dean found this cool tree on the edge of the campus. No one ever goes out there, so it's a great place."

"Dean Jackson is your tutor?
All-American-I-Can-Do-No-Wrong Dean Jackson?"

"The one and only," I answered, shooting him a small new-to-me smile.

His eyes widened slightly at my smile, but he didn't comment. "Sure, maybe," he said as the first bell rang. "I better go so I'm not late to class," he said, shuffling off down the hall.

I watched his retreating back with a serious knot in the pit of my stomach. I knew he wouldn't meet me for lunch. It was an unwritten rule that our friendship wasn't designed to be shared.

I was still bogged down with guilt over James when I met Dean after school by his jeep.

"How was your afternoon?" he asked as I threw my backpack into the backseat.

"Nauseating.
PerryPervert
called me up to go over my English essay. I had the pleasure of watching him jiggle his junk the whole time I stood there. It was like a train wreck. I didn't want to look, but I couldn't seem to help myself. I'm pretty sure I threw up a little."

"What a dick," he said, putting the vehicle in reverse.

"I think that's the problem. Maybe he doesn't have one and he keeps checking to see if something magically appears."

Dean snorted.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" I asked, letting some of my insecurities show.

"You'll see," he said in his mysterious cloak-and-dagger voice.

"Really?"
I asked sarcastically. The idea of a plan I had no knowledge of was enough to fill me with apprehension up to my neck. I was already pretty sure that I wasn't going to like his plan. Especially since he'd thrown the words family around all willy-nilly. My fears were verified when five minutes later he pulled into a long curved driveway in front of a huge sprawling yellow ranch house. Everything about the house in front of me was inviting. The exterior of the bright sunny yellow house was adorned in multiple potted plants that carried an array of different kinds of flowers. Multiple well-trimmed trees broke up the long expansion of St. Augustine grass that filled the space between the house and the curved driveway. The large trees provided shaded areas that were occupied by tastefully arranged sitting areas for those who would like to watch the world go by. If I had stumbled on the house in the forest, I would have labeled it as enchanting. Even being smack-dab in a community full of other houses, it stood out, practically screaming hominess. I'd seen enough TV to know that in the suburbs this house would be classified as a dream home with outstanding curb appeal. Everything about it screamed hard work, love and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. One thing was abundantly clear. I did not belong here.

"My house," Dean said, stating the obvious.

"I see that. I'm not going in there," I said, shaking my head to emphasize my point. There was no way I was going in there to be paraded around to his family.

"Come on,
Mads
, it'll be fine. My parents are dying to meet you," he persuaded.

"You've told your parents about me?" I screeched in an unnaturally high voice.

"
Mads
, they figured something was going on since I've been MIA almost every afternoon for the last two weeks."

"Well, sure, but don't they just assume you're hanging with friends or something?"

He laughed. "My parents never assume anything. It used to drive my older sister Trish nuts."

"You have an older sister?" I asked, momentarily distracted.

"Yeah, she's a junior up at FSU, majoring in art therapy. You'll get to meet her next week when she comes down for Thanksgiving."

I was already shaking my head negatively. "No. I'm not meeting anyone in your family," I said, folding my arms stubbornly across my chest. My multilayer of black bracelets clinked together.

"Come on,
Mads
, don't be a baby. They're going to love you."