The Girl in My Dreams (5 page)

“I was hoping you’d come sit with us today,” she said.

“Me?” I asked.

“Well, of course you. Who else do you think I’m talking to?” she asked with a laugh.

“I’d love to, but I can’t leave Martin behind,” I said.

“Bring him,” she replied.

“Really?” I asked.

“Of course. I want to get to know him better, anyway. I think I should be friends with him if you are,” she said.

“Okay, great, I’ll go get him and come over,” I said.

“Perfect,” she said, grinning ear to ear, before walking away.

“Okay, dude, don’t freak out about what I’m about to tell you,” I said to Martin, who had a piece of lettuce on the edge of his mouth.

“Oh my god, don’t tell me Trent’s coming,” he said in a panicked voice.

“No, not that. Belle invited us to come sit with her friends,” I said.

“Wait, are you sure? She
asked
you, or you
think
she asked you? You tend to go off into a dream world sometimes. Maybe she just said—”

“No, she invited us. Come on, let’s go,” I said.

Without any hesitation, Martin picked up his tray, and the two of us walked into the uncharted waters of the cool room. That wasn’t its official name, of course, but it was the one area of the cafeteria that seemed to be off-limits to anybody not on some sports team. Martin and I were not on any kind of team, but that didn’t matter. We had the golden ticket inside, and I swear everything seemed better. The seats looked comfier, the tables cleaner, and the people just a tad bit more beautiful than everybody else on the outside. I saw Belle waving to us, and we sat our stuff down at her table.

“Sit with me,” Belle said, pulling me down beside her.

As I sat, her pink hoodie-wrapped arm didn’t leave me, instead staying wrapped around mine. My heart skipped a short beat.

“So you’re Theodore,” someone said from down the table.

I looked up to see Asian Rob, a guy whose name described exactly what you’d think. He was Asian, the only one in school, actually, and I had no clue why he gave himself that nickname. I wasn’t even sure I knew of another Rob in our class, or our school, even, but nobody questioned it. I think he was Korean, his jet-black hair swooped in a hipster style. His clothes, which belonged on the runways of Paris, were always recognizable and perfect. He was an enigma of a man.

“He’s more than just
Theodore
,” Belle said.

“What else is he?” a girl named Jillian asked.

“Everything that’s right with the world,” Belle said, looking at me.

“Sounds like someone has a crush,” Betsy said.

Belle’s hand, which was resting on my forearm, slid down a little bit before cupping my hand and turning my cheeks warm. What just happened? Were we holding hands? Did anybody have their phone out? I wanted to capture this image so I’d never forget it.

“Look at his cheeks!” Jillian exclaimed.

I looked at Martin, his smile large, and I could sense the slightest nod of his head, as if he were confirming what I was hearing and seeing. So I wasn’t making it up. This was real life. Wow.

•••

“So I hear you’re seeing somebody? A girl?” Dr. Grier asked.

Lying on the couch, I thought about what to say and how to say it. I didn’t want to just come out and say that I was seeing Belle, because I wasn’t, at least not anywhere outside my dreams, but I couldn’t help but flash a little smile when she asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t say we’re
seeing
each other,” I said.

“Your mother seems to think otherwise. She says you two have been spending some time together, and that you’re connecting very well,” Dr. Grier said.

“I guess you could say that. We’re just rebuilding a friendship that had been lost for a while,” I said.

“Are you sure that’s it?” she asked.

I bit my lower lip, looking up at a swirl on the ceiling, thinking of her and if that was just it. The thing was, I hadn’t really asked Belle what we were or weren’t. Sure, she’d been flirty with me, especially at lunch and all, but what if she was just being friendly? Sometimes friends get close like that, even when it’s just platonic.

“I’m sure,” I said.

“Fair enough. I won’t push any further. How about we switch topics? Have you heard from your father recently?” she asked.

“No,” I said sternly.

I couldn’t believe that she kept asking me about my father and what was going on with him. I didn’t care. I’d told her and my mother close to a thousand times that I didn’t care, but it was like they couldn’t comprehend that. My dad and I were never terribly close anyway, so what did it matter? I was willing to bet he wasn’t that torn up about it.

“It’s just that when a parent leaves, it can be—”

“With all due respect, Dr. Grier, I have to stop you there. You’re a nice enough woman and a good doctor, and I’m not sure if my mom has made you say these things to me or if you’re doing it on your own, but you don’t need to any longer. If you’d like to talk to me about anything else, even something as mundane as the weather in Albuquerque, I’ll be glad to. I don’t want any more discussion about my father, his whereabouts, if we’ve talked, or anything pertaining to him. All it’s doing is aggravating me, and I don’t feel as though that’s healthy for me. I know this seems rather blunt, and I truly mean no disrespect to you, but I can’t deal with this talk any longer,” I said. I was winded after all that and couldn’t speak any more.

“Thank you for your honesty, Theodore. I’m sorry if I have stressed you out with the subject matter. If you’d like, we can continue talking about other subjects, and maybe in the future explore your relationship with your father again,” she said.

“Thank you,” I replied, as a weight was lifted off my chest.

We didn’t talk about much else during the session, as I’d exploded at her with only ten minutes left, but I felt relieved and confident—especially since she took it so well. I knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, and I hoped my mother wouldn’t hear about it, but sometimes other people’s feelings don’t matter when yours are on the line.

After the session, my mom dropped me off at Martin’s to study for a history test we had coming up. Suffice it to say we didn’t do much in terms of studying, instead playing
Call of Duty
and getting our butts handed to us by a ten-year-old in the Netherlands who called us swear words that I knew to never repeat.

As we played, my phone buzzed beside me and I looked down quickly to see it was Belle.

“Hang on a minute,” I said as I set my controller down.

“Dude! You can’t leave me hanging!” Martin exclaimed in panic.

I’m going to be home in forty minutes. Are you there? Swing set?
she asked.

I’ll be there,
I replied.

“So I’m going to have to get going in about twenty,” I told Martin, fearing his reaction.

“Boy, that girl has you wrapped around her finger,” he said.

“No, she doesn’t,” I said.

“I’m kidding, relax. You and I took an oath in the seventh grade to always support each other if we found a girl. Now all that’s left is for you to hook me up with one of her friends. I wouldn’t mind Jillian. Her hair smells like roses,” he said.

“You’ve been sniffing her hair?” I asked.

“Well, no, but she flipped it my way and I couldn’t help but smell. This is all I’ve got going for me,” he said, laughing.

“I’ll see what I can do on the friend front. It might help your cause if you’ve known one of them since childhood, though,” I said.

“Well, there’s Tricia, but she never shared back in the first grade,” he said.

“What does that matter today?” I asked.

“Hey! It matters a lot! People like that never change, and I need some give and take in a relationship,” he said.

“You should just be happy to get a relationship,” I said.

“True, but you still have to have standards,” he replied.

We played a little more, finally getting a kill on someone, then I packed up and he dropped me off at home. I set my things inside, crunching on a few mints, and walked out back. She was there, sitting on the swing, her phone screen lighting up her face. She noticed me coming and put it away as passing fireflies softly lit up her face and guided the way.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“Just got home from Martin’s. Did something happen?” I asked.

“No, why?” she asked.

“You asked me to meet you out here. Didn’t know if you needed something,” I said, sitting down.

“Nope, just wanted to see you,” she replied.

“Oh, cool,” I said, as my hands began to get clammy.

“So, I was thinking about that dinner invitation you gave me the other day,” she said.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. If you changed your mind or something,” I said, automatically thinking the worst.

“Theo, calm down. I’m not canceling anything. I want to do it. I was going to suggest that I make you something. Maybe at my house this weekend?” she asked.

“You don’t have to go through all that trouble for me. I feel bad,” I said.

“And I feel bad that you got hurt because of Trent. I’m making you dinner and that’s final. I’m not taking no for an answer,” she said.

“So is this like, you know—”

“A date?” she asked bluntly, looking at me.

I coughed a little, choking on my own spit, and she patted my back and helped me get my bearings. If there was one thing Annabelle Hawthorne was, it was blunt, and sometimes, all the time, actually, it got the better of me.

“Yeah. Is it one?” I asked.

She didn’t say anything, instead swinging a little and looking down at the grass as her feet kicked gently with each sway. The crickets and crickets in the distance provided much-needed white noise that broke up the awkward silence. What if I was right before and she was just being my friend? What if the signs I found, like the kiss on the cheek and her holding on to my arm, were just friendly gestures for a boy she’d known since she was too little to remember anything? What if I went back to square one now?

“Do you want it to be a date?” she asked.

“Do you?” I replied, hoping she’d answer before I had to.

“I asked you first,” she replied.

Gripping the cold metal chain of the swing firmly, I twisted my hands down it and mustered up the courage to finally say what was on my mind.

“Yes, I’d like it to be a date,” I said, my stomach in knots.

“Then it’s a date,” she said, smiling.

“What? Really?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” she said, laughing.

“Maybe I should get beat up more often, then,” I replied.

“You don’t need to get beaten up to get a date with me, Theo. All you have to do is ask,” she replied.

We swung for twenty minutes, talking about our days and looking up at the twinkling stars above. So much had happened so quickly between us. It seemed like a small blip of time, but to me, it had been a lifetime in the making. I didn’t know where this road would lead us, but I knew it was a road I’d wanted to travel for so many years now.

There had been few things harder in my life than waiting all week for my date with Belle. I sat there counting the hours, the days, as they slowly passed by and killed me inside. I didn’t want to wait until the weekend. I wanted to have our date now!

“So, are you going to ask her?” Martin asked as we walked through the halls at school.

“Ask her what?” I asked.

“To be your girlfriend,” he replied.

“It’s our first date,” I replied.

“Yeah, but you’ve known the girl for forever. It’s not like it’s someone you just met or something. The rules change in these situations,” he said.

“I don’t think things are going to go that far. I think we’ll have a nice dinner, some nice conversation, and end the night with a hug,” I said.

“You’re doing this all wrong,” he said.

“And how so?” I asked.

“You at least need to try for a kiss or something. I’d even take you holding her hand at this point. Something!” he said.

“You know, for a guy who hasn’t even kissed a girl, you sure think you know a lot about dating,” I said.

“When you live with my family and are forced to watch all those reality dating shows, you learn a thing or two. Women like a man in charge, who isn’t afraid to take chances and show them that he cares. Belle has held your hand at lunch, kissed you on the cheek,
and
agreed to a date at her house where she’s making you a home-cooked meal. If you keep waiting, she’ll have to have a guy in a plane write you a hint in the sky,” he said.

“I’ll think about it,” I said as we walked into algebra.

Belle was already in her seat, and she smiled and mouthed hi as I walked past. I floated back to my seat, the butterflies lifting me into the air, before I sat down and pulled out my book. Trent walked in soon after, giving me a dirty look as he did. Before he sat down, he handed Belle a note. She just shoved it into her backpack. He said something to her, and she appeared to be saying okay to him with a less than thrilled expression.

I knew he was going to try to get her back—who wouldn’t?—but the question was whether she’d fall for his attempt. She’d gone back to him in the past, and who was to say she wouldn’t do it again? They had been together for almost a year, and I think he used that length of time together to guilt her into coming back. It wasn’t like she and I were together, and maybe she’d think he was a better fit for her than me. He was popular, on the football team, the basketball team, and the track team, and I was just . . . me.

I kept an eye on Trent the entire period, making sure he didn’t slip anything else to her, which he didn’t, and after the bell rang and we all got up, I could finally hear what they were saying.

“Just read the note, Annabelle,” he said, walking behind her.

“I told you I would later, now stop talking to me,” she said.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that. I said I was sorry,” he said.

“Sorry isn’t good enough this time, Trent. I’m done with you, and you need to just understand that. I’ve moved on,” she said.

“To who, that dorky neighbor of yours? Please,” he said, letting out a laugh.