Every Girl Does It (9 page)

I notice that the place
looks
just as dead as before
,
and oddly enough the front door
is
wide open. I close it behind me and r
un
toward th
e stairs to get
to my treadmill, then I
’m
attacked.

“
Ahhhhh
!” I let out
the loudest shriek known to man
kind.

“
Get it off
!
”
Screaming
,
I twist in a hundred different directions at once.
T
h
ere
’
s some large black object flying around my head toward me in a
menacing fashion. T
he movie
The Birds
flashes before my eyes before
I
crumple into a heap on the floor.

Someone runs down the stairs
in the direction of
my body
,
which is now
in the fetal position
,
and chases
away the crazed animal before coming to my aid. My knight in shining armor! My hero! My— “Oh.” I say rather loudly.

“What do you mean ‘oh’
?” Preston retorts as he leans down to pick me up off the floor.

“What was that?” I try to keep
my voice from shaking but can’t because I
’
m so
terrified.

“A bird.” He holds back a smile.

“A
bird
! No way,
I don’t believe you
.
I
t couldn’t have been a bird, it tried to kill me
.”
My eyes are huge as I try to show him with my hands just how big the bird was.

He tells me to follow him with his little finger and leads me back outside
near
the trees that line the Rec center. “Do you see that?”
He asks. Nodding
,
my throat goes dry as I look at a tree full of black birds
.

“
Somewhere
in there is your bird
.
T
hey sit around here a lot
. The
building is
warm this time of year
,
so it makes sense they would invite themselves inside. You scared me back there
,
I thought you
were getting
mugged
,
not
mauled by a sparrow
.” He scowls at me then turns to walk back in the gym.

“I could have been!” I yell after him as I follow him up the stairs.

He turns to look at me, not at all concerned.

“I’m scared of birds.” Admitting this requires the last shred of pride to die, so I follow him inside
with my head hanging in shame.

“I’m sorry what?” He
’
s now walking toward me with an amused smirk on his face.

“I’m afraid of
birds.” I say quieter this time not daring to look him in the eye.

“Birds
,” he
says plainly.

“Birds
,”
I confirm.

“A
ll birds or just flying birds? If you were trapped at the zoo and an ostrich came running for you
,
would you scream? Or how about penguins
,
technically they
’
re birds.” He pauses for a minute waiting for my answer.

“You’re mocking me
.
I shouldn’t have
said anything because
everything is a giant joke to you
.”
I turn to walk away and trip over my own feet sending me sailing into the fake tree
by the benches, knocking it over
. “I meant to do that.” I huff as I stroll to my treadmill and begin running.

“It’s okay
,” he
says as he starts to run next to me.
“I have things I’m afraid of
,
too.”

Slowing down
,
I turn so I can look at him
.
I ask
,
“Like
what?”

“Hippos.” He shakes his head in disgust
.
“
They
terrify me.” He winks and continues running as I stand there with my mouth
,
yet again
,
hanging open for flies to stroll in
to.

“They
’
re quite vicious
,
like polar bears
,”
I answer
,
getting my stride back.
Is he trying to make me feel better?
That’s surprising, and sweet
.
I feel myself start to smile.

“At least I’m afraid of something that actually makes sense
,” he
states before hitting
the up button on his treadmill.

Forget wha
t I said about him being sweet.
He
’
ll never be sweet
,
just mean
.
And
well
,
a terrible excuse for a human being.

“
It makes sense if you know why
!” I yell
,
trying to catch my breath from the sprint I am trying to overcome.

“Okay
,” he
says
,
pushing the red button on both our machines
.
“
Humor
me.”

The whole time running I didn’t
break a sweat
;
but now
,
when he turns to face me with his body and green eyes
,
I start to perspire like I
’
m running the New York City marathon!
Nervous,
I shuffle m
y feet back and forth
before preparing my story.

“When I was little—
”

“
O
h this should be good
,”
he interrupts.

“Hey! No interrupting
.
Do
you want to hear the story or not?” I put my hands on my hips in frustration.

“Sorry.” He apologiz
es
“Please continue.”

I do everything I can to not meet his eyes, considering they make me forget to breathe and all, and decide to concentrate on the seriousness of my story.

“When I was little
.”
I glare at him and continue “I went to the park with my parents and went to play on the swings. I
t was my favorite thing to do, b
ut every time I walked
near
the swings
,
there would be hundreds of birds at the park just standing on the grass. My dad told me not to be afr
aid
,
so I believed him.
One day I walked to my swings, carefully as to not scare the birds, and a dog came out of nowhere and s
tarted chasing them.” My hands started to sweat. “The
birds were flying
at
me
.
I crashed to the ground and began crying. A few of the birds touched me
.
I even got scratched from one. It
was so terrifying
.”
The experience was so scary that I
’
m now
shaking as if I
’
m reliving the experience.

I look up to see Preston’s face
,
knowing he
’
ll probably say something sarcastic any time now
,
and see that he
’
s actually compassionate.

“I’m sorry
,” he
says as he puts his hand on my shoulder
in a protective manner. “That sounds frightening
,
and I
shouldn’t mak
e fun of you
.”

My heart starts fluttering as he leans
over
me and pulls me into a hug. I get ready to say thank you but am silenced by his talking.

“So this
,
um,
incident, how old were you? Four or five years old
,
I’m guessing
?” He pulls ba
ck from the hug
looking touched.

“Fifteen
,”
I answer quietly before turning the treadmill back on.

His eyes widen in surprise before he starts doubling over in laughter.

“Fifteen? You were fifteen?”

“
It was scary
!” I yell in his direction.

“Why were you swinging at fifteen anyway? You should have been, I don’t know
,
out with your friends getting into trouble
,
not going with your daddy to the park.”

“It was tradition
,”
I snap.
“Plus
,
my dad
’
s dead
,”
I add as I continue running, faster this time considering what I just said. I hadn’t talked about my dad in
a long time
,
and it wasn’t
Preston
’s fault
. Sometimes memories were better left unremembered. He had been gone a while
,
but the pain sometimes still felt
too
fresh.

“I’m sorry
,
Amanda
,
I didn’t know.” He stops my machine again and genuinely looks upset.

“It’s fine.” I smile trying to hold my tears in. “Actually, I think I’ve had too much exc
itement for the night. I’m going to
head home.” I stop my machine and head down the stairs feeling Preston’s close proximity behind me.

“Amanda.” He pulls my arm from my side and holds onto my hand before I smile weakly and say goodbye.

It takes exactly three
seconds for me to get from the door into my car.

Once I
’
m in my car
,
I can’t help my
self, the tears start and I c
ry my eyes out for about ten minutes before I notice that Preston has been standing outside my car door the entire time. He knocks gently on the window as I
unlock the doors.

He sits and listens to me cry
,
hands me a tissue
,
and leaves.

So maybe he’s not so bad.

But then again, he did get me
to snap at him
.
I guess we will find out in a f
ew days once we start our trip.

Remember w
hen I said we
’
d find out if Preston
had
a heart? He doesn’t
;
he absolutely does not have a heart. He
is at this moment flirting
with the lady at the ticket counter. I think he’s trying to get us bu
mped to first class
,
but s
he
looks to
o
smart to fall for it. After all
,
he
’
s being rather obvious
.

Rolling my eyes in irritation
,
I turn toward Kristin just before I see Preston return to us with a large grin on his face.
“Good news
.
Got us all bumped up to first class
.”

“Super
,”
I answer. A
t least I get to sit next to Kristin while the boys talk shop.
Picking up my phone,
I decide to check my email while we
’
re waiting in line for security.

To fashionista2005@gmail

From: Firehottie2005@gmail

Hey Amanda,

It’s Bobby
.
I hope you don’t mind, I
Facebooked
you and got your email address off your page
. I know we haven’t talked in
a
w
hile
,
but I thought it would be cool for us to hang out
,
maybe grab a bite to eat or something?

Let me know
.

Strange, why is he
so interested?
Shaking my head
,
I sm
ile to myself as I reply
that I
’
ll contact him after my vacation in Hawaii.

“What are you
smiling about?” Preston sneaks up behind me and peeks over my shoulder.

“Nothing
,”
I snap
.
“Has anyone ever told you how annoying you can be?”

“I only annoy people that deserve it. I hope that wasn’
t an email from Bobby, but i
t looks to be his email address. Want to know how I know?”

“Nope and it
’
s none of your business.” I grab my stuff and push forward without looking at him.

“He’s a womanizer
,”
Preston answers without my asking him.

Spinning around to face him, I’m momentarily taken
a
back
.
I hadn’t realized how close our faces now were. Whispering so no one can hear me,
“What makes you think that? Are you jealous?”

“Hardly.” He huffs. His mouth smells like peppermint.
I
’
m momentarily dazed by his lips before I answer.

“Well, it
’
s not a big deal
. Plus
I
’
ve been down that road and back
,
thank you. I do
n’
t wish to re-visit it.”

I turn my head and put my stuff on the security belt before taking off my shoes. Preston does the same
,
but I can tell by the way he
’
s looking at me that this conversation is far from over.

“What do you mean re-visit it? Have you dated that tool before?” He looks disgusted with the idea.

“It was a long time ago and I’ve changed.” Stepping through the metal detectors, I sigh as I hear the beeping sound
. I take off all my jewelry including my earrings and r
ings and step through again. Pr
eston watches in amusement as the
beeping still goes off. Emptying
my pockets
, I continue to beep
,
so now I
’
m called
by
the uniformed officer
,
and
I brace myself to be searched.

Preston walks through clean as a whistle
,
while I
’
m getting patted down by a man named Jorge. I weakly smile as the beeper stops at my belly button and goes off telling everyone within a safe distance that I
’
m either smuggling a gun in my pa
nts or I have a piercing. P
raying they think it’s a gun
,
I whisper to Jorge in hushed tones that I have a bellybutton ring.

“You must take off belly ring
,
ma
’a
m.” His accent sounds Spanish
.
H
e uses his hands to show me that I need t
o lift my shirt. This can’t be happening, but it is so
I slowly lift my shirt revealing a tiny belly button piercing. As if my embarrassment is
n’
t enough
,
he pulls out the beeper stick again and runs it over the piercing “just to make sure
”
.

Glancing
over at Preston
,
I see his
eyes are locked on my piercin
g instead of my face. He
’
s judging me
.
I
was only
eighteen
and it
was a
rite
of passage
.
I still remember Grandma Ned
’
s face when she found out that her
grand-
daughter had a hole in her belly button. She made me memorize the chapter in
Proverbs
that talks about the perfect woman as if to tell me that it was so far from what I was that it would do me some good to engrain it in my head.

Closing my eyes, I
’
m
finally told I
’m
free to leave. A
lthough Preston
has
an
unreadable
expression on his face, he
has
at least had the decency to grab all of my stuff. We waited for Kristin and Brad to go through then began
heading to
our gate.

“What a
n interesting piercing
,
Amanda
,”
Preston tease
s
.

“I was eighteen
.” I
t was useless to defend myself against this man.

“I
t
’
s funny; it shows you are
n’t
as controlled as you
’
d like people to think.” He leans down letting his peppermint breath
fan
my face and says
,
“I like it
,
” before catching up with Brad.

Kristin turns around noticing my
discomfort and asks
,
to
o
loud
might I add, “Amanda why are y
ou all red? Are you tired sweetie
? Are you ok
ay?” Why can’t women read each
other’s minds?
It would be so m
uch easier on everyone.
Preston
’s
laugh
ing, I
only
know because though I’m behind him, I see his shoulders shake
, transla
tion, he
’
s barely able to contain his mirth. There
’
s no justice in the world, I hate
that he knows how uncomfortable h
e
makes me feel. It’s so inconvenient to wear your emotions on your sleeve.

We
get
to the gate in record time, meaning Brad was so obsessive about us getting to the airport two hours before our flight that we literally got to our gate two hours before boarding
. This is not a good thing,
there is
not
much to do while you
’
re in the Boise airport
,
except drink cof
fee and read magazines. I
f there were shops or at least bookstores I could find something to do. But a girl can only handle so many m
agazines and caffeine before a five
hour flight.

Or can she? I notice that the coffee shop has already started selling their Christmas drinks. Well
,
one won
’t hurt. Getting up, I go to the nearest stand
and order a pepp
ermint latte from a barista who
looks less than pleased to have to put down
her People magazine and
help a customer. There
’
s something deathly wrong with society when people who are at work don’t want to work.
When she finishes, I leave
her a fifty cent tip hoping to cheer her up
,
but instead I get a weak smile and a “please come again
”
.

Rolling my eyes,
I pass Preston
who is
thinking the same thing. Crossing
my arms in frustration
,
I watch the barista jump up from her seat and ask him for his order.
She twists her hair, yes twists her hair as if she is twelve,
then tells him it
'
s “no charge
”
. Before she hands
him
the
coffee
,
I see her writing on the
cup
, with disgust I see
a name and number next to the drink name
. What is
it
with women throwing themselves at men
? Particularly
at Preston
.
He,
with a sudden pep in his step, turns around toward me.

“Could you be any more disgu
sting?” B
ump
ing
into him
to show my frustration, I roll my eyes
while taking my seat.

“Excuse me for wanting free coffee? I
f it makes you feel better, I
left her enough tip to pay for it and then some
,
if you
’
re thinking I
’
m a cheap person. Poor girl.” He smiled as he sipped his grande pepper
mint latte
. We
have the same taste in coffee?
“Plus
,
I
’
m guessing if it would
’
ve been a guy you would
’
ve gotten something free
,
too.”

I th
ink
about this for a second then answer, “You
'
r
e
right, I would have.” Feeling better, I sip
my coffee and l
ook
away.

“Challenge accepted!
” He exclaims getting up from his seat next to mine.

“What do you mean challeng
e accepted?” This can’t be good.

He starts to pull me toward the down escalator as I turn around to yell for help from Kristin. But as per usual
,
she
can’t
read my mind
.
Therefore,
she just waves at me as if
I
’
m getting ready to go on a ride at Disneyland and bumps Brad as if to say, “Oh
,
look how cute they are going down the escalator.” The last thing she sees is me making a cut it out motion with my hand as my head ducks below to the first level.

“Look, a dude.” Preston points toward a nerdy
-
looking barista who
se
reading Theology Today with
an
interest I can only
describe
as a little too intense.

“Piece of cake.”
Smoke is about to pour from my ears like a cartoon. To make myself feel better
,
I make the bet sweeter, for me.
“I get a free coffee and you don’t talk to me the entire trip on the airplane.”
I challenge.

“Deal.” He shrugs.

Pulling out my lip gloss
,
I put some on
and approach the counter wearing my most flirtatious smile
.
“Hi.” I wave. Oh my
word
, I’m going to lose. Why did I just wave at someone right in front of me?
My stomach churns as I think of the plane ride that
’
s at stake.

The barista
lifts
his eyes for just a second before dropping the magazine in front of him and taking a cup in han
d. “What would you like
,
miss
?” H
is voice squeak
s
on the miss making me pity him all the more. This is all Preston’s fault
.

Clearing my throat, I try to engage him in conversation so I can flirt, or try to.
“So...” I look at his name tag “John, that magazine looks pretty interesting
.
A
re you studying
to be a pastor?”
He
nods his head yes
and blushes
as I mentally high five myself for such clever flirt
ing
.

His expression turns serious again as he asks
,
“Did you want coffee or not?”

Laughing
,
I t
wist my dark hair around my fing
e
r playfully flirting with the poor guy.
“
O
f course silly
,
that’s why I’m here.” I make a pretend pushing mot
ion with my hand as if to say “
you are so funny!” But he
’
s not having any
of it, and
he looks bored
.
How can I be more boring than Theology Today?