Chapter Thirty-Two
Nina
I was happy for West, but the idea of him moving away made my stomach hurt a little. Our relationship, whatever it was we had, probably wouldn’t end up as a happily ever after, because that only happened in fairy tales. Knowing for sure he was going to run away as soon as possible wasn’t something I wanted to think about. But worrying too much about the future would only destroy what we had now. I was back to my “Be more like the dog” mantra. I needed to live in the moment and take things as they came.
On that note, I said, “Valentine’s Day is this Friday.”
“And all those times I said we weren’t going to the dance, I was right,” he gloated. “Because we’re going to the movies, instead.”
“Okay, technically you’re right, but we’re still actually doing something together on Valentine’s Day, which I think is what you were objecting to in the first place, so I think I’m right, too.”
“You have to argue about everything,” he said, “don’t you?”
If he’d said it in an angry tone, I would have been upset, but he was smiling so I knew he was teasing me.
“It’s not arguing.” I moved toward him. “It’s debating. And it’s fun.”
“It is?” He leaned toward me.
“Yes.” I closed the distance between us and kissed him. He kissed me back. Unfortunately, we had to go, so I ended the kiss and put on my seat belt.
West pulled out of the driveway and headed toward school.
“Back to Valentine’s Day,” I said. “Maybe we could go to the chocolate exhibition and then go to the movies. Because even though I’m anti-Valentine’s Day, I am pro-chocolate.”
“They sell chocolate at the movie theater. You can buy a three-pound candy bar and eat the entire thing, if you want.”
That didn’t work for me. “I could, but it wouldn’t be fancy chocolate.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Giftable chocolate.”
“Giftable?” he asked.
“Chocolate in a pretty box,” I explained, “for a special occasion.” Which also meant they were for a special person.
“So we could go to the show, buy chocolate, and I could stick a bow on it,” he said.
“Not the same.”
“Chocolate is chocolate.”
“You could be stuck with a girlfriend who demanded flowers and jewelry for Valentine’s Day,” I said, “so you’re getting off easy.”
West didn’t respond. He just turned on the radio. I decided not to push the issue because it wasn’t worth debating at the moment. Once we made it to school and parked, he gave me a strange look.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.” He turned the car off and reached for his door handle.
What could I have said that would have flipped the switch on his mood from happy to crabby? And that’s when it hit me. “Are you freaking out because I used the word girlfriend?”
He wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“Oh my God. Seriously?”
“It’s stupid,” he said. “Just forget about it.”
Like that was going to happen. “Me thinking of myself as your girlfriend is stupid, or are you referring to the fact that you’re freaking out?” I needed some clarification before I became crabby.
He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a loaded question. Any answer I give will tick you off. Let’s forget about it. Okay?”
A cold rush of self-doubt filled my stomach, making me nauseous. We’d been having fun until I implied we were in a real relationship. We were in a relationship, weren’t we? “West, this is important. I need to know I’m not just convenient.”
“What are you talking about?” Now he sounded frustrated.
This was not how I wanted to spend my morning. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. How could I say what I wanted to say without sounding needy? I didn’t want to sound needy.
I heard the car door open and shut and then the sound of footsteps moving across the gravel lot. Had he ditched me again? Seriously?
My car door swung open. West stood there holding out his hand. “Come here.”
“Why?”
“I’m trying to fix this, and you’re making it difficult. Get out of the damn car.”
A smooth talker he was not. Still, I was curious about what he would say. I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed my bag before taking his hand.
He pulled me from the car. “I’m pretty sure this whole boyfriend-girlfriend relationship thing, which apparently I’m bad at, is like window shopping.” He pointed at our joined hands. “We hold hands and walk through the parking lot, which shows anyone in the immediate vicinity, including you, that you’re not convenient.”
“Thank you for clearing that up.”
“I’d never call you convenient…you’re actually more of a pain in the ass.”
“Ha. Ha.” I poked him in the chest.
“You know I’m mostly kidding.” He leaned in and kissed me. When he pulled away, he said, “From now on, I’d like advance notice before you use scary words. That way, we can avoid my momentary freak-outs and your meltdowns.”
“I can’t think of any other scary relationship words that might come up in the near future,” I said. “But if I do, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. Let’s rewind this conversation back to the part where we’re going to the show and I’m being emotionally blackmailed into buying you fancy chocolate.”
“That totally works for me.” Crisis averted.
“Of course it does. Let’s go.”
We walked across the parking lot holding hands, and people did seem to notice. I smiled at anyone who checked us out.
For the rest of the week, I did my best not to be overly sensitive to anything West said, because I was beginning to learn that while males and females shared the same language, the things they said didn’t always mean the same thing.
Plus, he liked me and was making an effort to avoid things that would freak me out, so I decided to do the same. Friday morning, when I climbed into the car there was a giant, red, heart-shaped box of candy taking up most of my seat.
“Happy Valentine’s Day.” West gestured at the giant heart box as if I might miss it.
“Thank you.” It might be corny, and the presentation wasn’t awesome, but my heart still skipped a beat. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too.” I picked up the box, climbed in, and leaned over to kiss him.
When the kiss ended, I said, “I have something for you.” I pulled the card I’d bought him from my backpack. He opened the red envelope and laughed at the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle card inside and smiled when he opened it and saw the Amazon gift card.
“I almost bought you a gift card to the bookstore, but I knew you preferred ebooks.”
“Thank you.”
On the drive to school, I ate two caramel-filled chocolates. “Do you want one?”
“No thanks.”
I closed the lid of the heart-shaped box. Too bad it wouldn’t fit in my locker. Then I’d be able to stop for chocolate breaks between classes.
When we pulled into the school parking lot, I laughed. Red and pink balloons were tied to several cars’ windshield wipers. One car was covered in hot pink hearts that looked like they were made with silly string.
“Why?” West said, as he gestured at the oddly decorated cars.
“I’m not sure. You’d think people would put the balloons on their boyfriends’ or girlfriends’ car when it was in their driveway because the person receiving the balloons won’t see them until after school.”
“I’m glad you liked the chocolates, but holidays are still stupid,” West said.
“Agreed.” We walked through the parking lot holding hands. No one seemed to pay much attention because we weren’t a brand-new couple anymore. I kissed him good-bye at his locker and went on to my locker to meet Lisa. She did not look like a happy camper.
“Good morning,” I said. “If you need to vent about the stupidity of the holiday, I’m here to listen.”
She frowned. “I’m glad things worked out for you and West, but it sucks being the odd man out. I might feel better if there was anyone I even liked, but the only guy I’m interested in has friend-zoned me.”
“You mean Matt?” I asked.
“Yeah, I said hi to him this morning, and he looked like he wanted to bolt, like I was going to throw myself at him because it was Valentine’s Day.”
“Sorry.”
A girl down the hall squealed about something—probably cheap flowers or some other Valentine’s gift. “That’s happened twice since I’ve been here,” she said. “And it’s freaking annoying.”
“One of my goals in life,” I said, “is to never make that girly, high-pitched squealing noise.”
“Agreed,” Lisa said. “It’s undignified.”
Apparently, the rest of the female population of Greenbrier High didn’t feel that way because random outbursts happened throughout the day. If I didn’t have West, I would’ve been more annoyed. This was my first successful Valentine’s Day so far in life.
…
After the drive home from school, West said, “So what movie did you want to see?”
He pulled up the movie times on his cell. “Your choices are a spy thriller or a buddy comedy.”
“There are ten movies showing. And I’m pretty sure they have titles.”
He grinned. “I said I’d take you to the movies. I didn’t say I planned on watching the show.”
I laughed. “We’re watching some of it.” I snatched the phone from his hand and scrolled down the choices. “Comedy at seven forty-five works for me.” I handed back his phone.
Several hours later, I was using a sticky tape roller to remove Gidget fur from my black sweater. I checked the results in the mirror. Random pieces of fur still stuck out at odd angles. I tried the roller again and then gave up. I loved Gidget, but from now on maybe I should buy only cream-colored clothes.
I went downstairs and saw my mom frowning at a heart-shaped vase full of yellow daisies. There was only one person who would have sent her those—my dad.
“So…those are a surprise,” I said.
“Yes. They are. I’m caught between wanting to throw them in the trash and not wanting to waste pretty flowers just because an idiot sent them to me.”
“My vote would be to put them down the garbage disposal one at a time.”
My mom gave a bitter laugh. “I don’t understand what he thinks he’s doing. There’s not a chance in hell I will ever forgive him. He has to know that.”
There was a small card attached to the vase. “What does the card say?”
“Some crap about how I’m his one true love.” My mom’s voice broke. She sniffled. “Ugh…I hate that he can still make me so mad I cry.”
I told her about West’s toxic skunk theory, which made her laugh.
“I knew I liked that boy.” She sighed and then grabbed the vase. “Would you get the front door for me?”
“Sure.” What was she planning on doing?
First she dumped the water from the vase, and then she walked out onto the front porch and swung the vase like a pail of water, launching the daisies across the lawn.
“If I know your father, he’s planning on driving by to see if he can talk to me. This should send him a pretty clear signal that he should keep on driving.”
West approached in my peripheral vision. “Should I ask?”
“Toxic skunk flowers,” my mom said. “Have a fun night.” And then she turned back around and went into the house.
“Okay then,” West said. “Time for our anti-Valentine’s Day movie.”
It turned out that the movie wasn’t very good. Not that we watched a lot of it. West kept distracting me…in a good way. We kissed our way through most of the movie and once the lights came up, my brain was fairly scrambled.
The cool evening air helped restore my faculties as we walked to the car. “Where to now?” I asked.
“We have two choices. Matt and Charlie are having a bonfire, or we can hang out at your place.”
“I’m not in the mood to be around a bunch of people.” I was pretty sure he was thinking about sneaking out to the shed so we could be alone, but I wasn’t about to suggest that.
When we pulled into the driveway, he said, “Did I mention that I restocked the shed with s’mores Pop-Tarts?”
“I’ve never tried that flavor.” And that was the truth, but it wasn’t the Pop-Tarts I was really interested in.
We snuck back to the shed, and I laughed when I saw what West had done. There was a box of s’mores Pop-Tarts on top of the mini-fridge and another much smaller heart-shaped box of chocolates on the love seat.
“Very nice,” I said.
He smiled. “I might be getting the hang of this whole boyfriend thing.”
I pretended to be shocked, placing my hand over my heart. “You said the B word.”
“I did.” He pulled me close. “And you should probably distract me before I freak out.”
I played with the hair at the nape of his neck and smiled up at him. “I can do that.”
A tiny voice in my brain whispered that this was too good to be true. I ignored that annoying voice in favor of kissing West.