It’s almost ten o’clock. My breath catches every few seconds, knowing I’ll see her soon. This reaction has become like a natural reflex. I still have to work up the nerve to talk to her, something I haven’t done since that day in St. Christopher’s. I need to feel her fingers shake again when mine brush against hers. It feels damn good, knowing I can do that to her with just a simple touch.
The lights flicker a few times, alerting me that someone is on the other side of the door. I glance around quickly to make sure everything is in its place, but realize my porn stash which is overdue for returning at the video library, peeks from under the sketch book. I lunge forward, grab it and shove it inside the drawer.
“Come in,” I say, combing my hair with my fingers.
Mom ducks her head around the door and smiles. Her eyebrows rise as she takes me in before signing, “Hot date tonight?”
I roll my eyes, fighting a smile.
Before I can answer her, she continues, “You like her don’t you? She’s pretty. Very pretty.”
“How can I like her when I don’t even know her?”
Mom folds her arms on her chest. “You know her.”
“Know who?” My father’s tall, bulky frame enters the room, his fingers signing the words. His gray eyes twinkle and I know he is ready to launch into some sort of advice-rant, like he usually does, when he corners Josh. “The girl next door?”
Mom nods. They exchange a look then turn to me and I know they’ve been talking about my sudden interest in Nor.
I pull my hands from my pockets. “You have got this all wrong. It is just--”
“Honey?” Mom cuts me off. “Go and have fun.”
I scratch my head and give up on convincing them. Dad slides his arm around my mom’s shoulder and swivels her around while kissing the top of her head before tugging her out of the room. I stare at the door for a few seconds after they’ve gone realizing I’ve never seen my parents act any other way. It’s always appeared as if they can’t get enough of each other.
I hope I’ll have that one day.
I sneak another look out the window just in time to see Nor duck her head out the window, look at the skies and then disappear back inside the room. The clouds hang low in the sky today. There’s no chance they will clear soon. I stride out of my room, down the stairs and step out into the humid air. A soft breeze sweeps across my face, bringing with it the scent of rain.
I jog across the lawn, do my usual hop over the fence routine, and jog up the porch steps. I take quick breaths to calm my racing heart, and then ring the bell. The door opens a few moments later and the air stalls in my lungs as I stare into brown eyes set in a scowling face. Eyes that belong to Nor’s father. His mouth tightens, forming a white line. His hand on the door frame flexes as if he’s fighting to rid himself of a wild emotion. I’m suddenly reminded of the look on his face when he saw me the day they moved in.
Shit. I don’t even know what I did to deserve his anger. Maybe he didn’t like the way I was staring at Nor the day they moved in. He must think I’m creepy.
“Good evening, Sir,” I say, hoping my voice and my face reflect confidence, because it sure as shit isn’t what I’m feeling right now.
“What do you want?” His mouth forms a sneer. Maybe this is his normal disposition.
“Can I talk to Eleanor for a minute? I realize it’s late but I need to talk to her for a few seconds.”
His hand drops from the door frame, and he steps forward. Nothing about his posture yells ‘friendly’. I should move, but my feet feel like lead.
His mouth twists into an ugly scowl and I have to try harder than normal to read his lips. “Stay away from my daughter. She doesn’t need the likes of you ruining her life.”
The likes of me? What does that even mean?
Before I can contemplate those words, he disappears back inside the house and slams the door in my face.
Seriously, what the hell?
Spinning around, I clench my hands into fists as I shuffle away from the porch, confused and angry about his assumptions about me.
AFTER FILLING MY BOWL WITH vanilla ice cream, I grab the pieces of peeled orange from the kitchen counter and stir them in. I was kind of bummed when I checked the skies and saw the dark clouds. I hope ice cream will help chase away the star-gazing blues.
Satisfied with the amount and consistency, I leave the kitchen, bypassing the living room where my dad is watching a crime TV show, and climb the stairs to my room. I went to check in on Mom in her room a few minutes ago. She and my dad don’t share the same room. I can’t even remember the last time they did.
I change directions and enter my sister’s room. She is sitting on a stool next to the window, her eyes closed in concentration and the bow in her hand moving effortlessly across the strings of the cello. Everything in here is color coded and neat. A medal, shaped like a G-clef, stands on the shelf above her desk, flanked by several books on music. She has a thing for orderliness.
The music stops and she huffs in frustration. She places the bow on the desk, grabs a pen and scribbles furiously on a notepad. She tucks her hair behind her ear and picks up the bow once again.