My Stupid Girl by Aurora Smith Page B

up
excitedly, happy to be home. Although I recognized it, being happy about being
home was a foreign feeling for me. I found myself longing for it. The sparkling
face of 1480 didn’t hurt. It would sure be nice to park in that driveway every
night. I pulled to a stop in front of her house and realized instantly that I
was at a loss at what to do. I’d been too busy being mesmerized by the house to
realize we were at her house. I turned the ignition off and looked up at her.
The rain got a lot louder as soon as the engine died.
    "Want to walk me to my door?"
Hope burst out of her voice, even though she spoke softly. Her tone encouraged
me a little, until I actually thought about what should happen at the door. I
desperately fought the urge to push her out the door with my combat boot and
speed away. Just one kick would take care of this situation.
    "Sure." It came out in a whisper,
totally destroying my attempt to not sound scared to death. What was she
thinking should happen? Did she already have a picture in her head of how this
was going to go? I was in way over my head here. In a rush of adrenaline,
before I actually did kick the gorgeous girl out of the car and leave her in a
spray of rainwater, I jumped out of my door and ran around the other side to
get hers.
    I tried to pull myself together, trying to
get rid of the image of shoving her forcefully onto the giant lawn and running
back to the safety of my car.
    Her hand was out like she wanted me to take
it but, like the awesome guy I am, I pushed my own hands deeper into my
pockets.
    When we reached the front stoop, paved with
some kind of textured tile I’d never seen before, she turned around to face me.
She still looked completely at ease while I was having a mini-meltdown.
    "Thanks for the ride," she said.
Her face looked even kinder than usual.
    "Thanks for bringing me my car,"
I said, rubbing my shoe over the tile. The rain had soaked it to a deep red. It
was probably from Italy or something. 
    "Oh yeah, what would you do without
me?" she answered sarcastically. I just smiled.
    She patted her hands against her legs and
looked down at her feet. Kill me now, please.
    "Well…" she was starting to sound
defeated, "If you ever want to hang out, you can call me. I think you have
my number." She now had a hint of rejection in her voice and she was
blushing furiously.
    "I’ll call you, Lucy," I said
quietly.
    She beamed at me, flung her arms around my
neck, and hugged me tightly. I had just managed to pull my hands out of the
depths of my pockets and was starting to return the hug when she pulled away a
little. My hands, behind her and moving in for the hug, stopped her abruptly in
front of my face. She stared at me for a split second before moving. Her face
turned the tiniest bit and her lips kissed my lips very quickly. I had hardly
felt it but I knew it had happened. My entire body going numb was my first
clue.
    She managed to break out of my zombie-iceman
hold, smiling that killer smile.
    "I’ll talk to you soon, David."
She turned around and put her hand on her door knob, but it opened before she
turned it. Her Dad’s face appeared at the crack of the door. I’m sure I looked
like a turtle. I felt like a turtle. Unable to move off the priceless
Renaissance tile, I was concentrating all of my willpower on my shoulders,
trying to convince them to fold inward so my head had somewhere to hide. They
did not cooperate. Traitors.
    "Lucy, David! Hi." He opened the
door the entire way and held his hand out for me to shake. My hand shot up all
by itself. As he shook it he didn’t seem to notice my apprehension. With a
daughter that beautiful maybe he was used to teenage-boy-statues on his front
stoop.
    “Come on in, come on in!” He managed to
pull me in far enough to shut the door. They didn’t mind me dripping onto the
priceless indoor tile, I guess. "How are you, son?"
    Lucy disappeared into the house leaving a
trail of water, and me with her father. 
    "Good."