Fractured ( Fractured #1) (9 page)

Chapter
Thirteen

While
taking turns asking each other questions, we discovered we had a lot in common. We liked the same movies, had the same taste in music, both appreciated nature, and we each wanted something meaningful in our lives. My invisible barrier crumbled. It surprised me how easy it was to share my thoughts so freely with him. I wasn’t the least bit uncomfortable.

When he wasn’t looking, I actually pinched myself to make sure I reall
y was in a very beautiful place with a gorgeous guy who was interested in me. This was the furthest my self-confidence had ever stretched, at least in a real life situation. Everything was perfect. I wondered how long it would last.

His next question caught me off guard. “
So, are you allowed to date?”

My
body stiffened as my insecurities returned. “Of course I’m allowed to date. What kind of question is that?”

“
Well, Eric said that you don’t have a boyfriend. I was wondering if your father didn’t allow you to date.”

I guess
ed anyone might think that, considering I hardly ever went out anywhere. “Contrary to what Eric might think, my father lives in this century, not the Middle Ages. He doesn’t have a say on whether or not I have a boyfriend. So, to answer your question, yes, I’m allowed to date.”

His stare silently urged me for the reason why I didn’t have a boyfriend.

The inside of my mouth felt like I had swallowed a whole bag of cotton balls. “I don’t date because… well, to be honest, no one has ever asked me.” There, I said it out loud. I pictured the big neon “L” flashing over the top of my head, the one that branded me a loser.

He smiled. “Good. Then I’d like to take you out on a date.”

I didn’t even try to hold back my smile. “I would like that very much.”

“Great.
How about this Saturday? I’ll pick you up at six. That way I can meet your parents, so they know that you aren’t going out with a psychopath.”

“Okay. Six.” My head floated up past the tree
s and into the clouds. My cheeks hurt from my mouth stretching wider than it was able. A date… at six
.
“Oh! What time is it?”

He looked at his watch. “Three-fifteen.”

“I have to get back. Dillon will be getting off the school bus soon.”

“Okay, but can we come back here again?” he asked. “This really is a perfect place.”

It was, especially as he wanted to come back… with me. “Absolutely.”

Chapter
Fourteen

On the way back toward my house, Rob walked closer to me. Our arms almost touched.
The electricity between us was almost visible. I tried to stay focused on what he was telling me. He said that working at the supermarket was okay, but he wasn’t sure of the toll it would take once school started. “I’ll have to go back to after-school hours, and I won’t be able to work as much. I’m trying to save as much as I can during the summer.”

I thought he didn’t have to worry about money. Maybe he just wanted to keep busy so he didn’t have to think about his parents.
“That sounds like a good plan.”

“
I don’t have to be in until five tomorrow. Can I see you?” he asked. Now I wished I hadn’t said yes to my father’s request for help at the garage.

My shoulders dropped
. “I’m sorry. My dad’s asked me to work at his shop. He’s short a man and needs me to answer the phones and write up service tickets.”

“I’ll see if I can get an extra shift at the supermarket then. I might as well keep busy.”

He walked me to my door, but didn’t kiss me as I had hoped. Part of me was disappointed, but then I remembered that I’d be going to dinner with him on Saturday, on my first real date.

Once
inside, I watched him through the window as he walked to his car. Sadness swelled inside me when he drove away. I ran upstairs and scrounged through my closet, trying on every combination of what I owned, searching for the perfect outfit for Saturday. I found myself wishing Cassandra had lived. Having a sister right at that moment would have helped. I knew taking a trip to the mall over the next two days might be in order if I didn’t find something I could live with Rob seeing me in. Sadly, I wished that Jennifer and I were still friends. She could have helped me put together something that would appeal to Rob. I knew I couldn’t ask my mother. She couldn’t see straight, or even follow the stream of consciousness to give me an honest answer. However, I could rummage through her closet.

I crept into her dark room, making sure not to step on the floor
board that creaked. The closet light went on when I opened the door. It made it easier to see the things she had. Her everyday clothes were in the center. I pushed them aside and searched for the more dressy things I knew were tucked away in the back. Scraping hangers on the worn pole, I came across four garment bags. The first one had a dress that I recognized. I had a similar one that we both wore for my cousin’s wedding last July. The second bag had a red chiffon evening gown–definitely too formal for a first date. The third bag contained a navy blue suit–too business like. But the last bag had a simple, little black dress. The size tag promised to fit. I snatched it off the bar, closed the closet door, and ran into my room.

Pulling the dress from the plastic, I held it up against my body. I looked in the full-length mirror on my closet door. Imagining my hair done
nicely, and the simple black pumps I had somewhere at the bottom of my closet, I knew it would be perfect. I tossed my shirt and shorts onto my bed and I tried it on. The girl looking back in the mirror was very feminine. I was pleased with how it accentuated the curves I usually hid under bulky clothing.

During dinner, I
kept my fingers crossed as I told my father about Rob. I didn’t want him to tell me I couldn’t go. “Just keep an open mind, okay, Dad?”

“I’ll try.”
Excitement swirled inside me. I gave him a quick peck on the cheek to show my gratitude. He tried to hide it, but a small smile flashed before he donned his serious face again.

Bryan rolled his eyes. I was hoping my mother would be sober for the initial introduction when Rob came to pick me up, but I knew better. I’d be happy if she stayed in her room. I could pretend she wasn’t feeling well.

**
*

As promised, I went to work with Dad the next day after putting Dillon on the bus. The guys in the shop liked when I came to work. It was a change of scenery for them. I was someone new who would listen to each accomplishment or complaint. They liked telling me about their wives and kids, and where they’d spent their last vacation. Dad yelled at them when they spent too much time talking to me, rather than fixing cars.

The morning was busy
, with people dropping off their cars to be worked on while they went about their day. Some jobs were easy to write up and enter into the computer–state inspections, tire rotations, and oil changes. Others were more complicated–break jobs, tune-ups, and air conditioner repairs.

By noon, Dad told me he was going to walk over to the pizzeria to pick up a couple of pies.
“That way the whole crew can eat all at once, and then get back to work,” he said. “You’re in charge, Mandy.” He winked at Al, his second in command.

While he was out, Mrs. Sutton, Jennifer’s mother
, walked into the shop. She looked very out of place in her light yellow blouse, white Capri pants, and high-heeled sandals. The fresh smell of hairspray, and the bouncy curls over her shoulder, told me that she had just come from the beauty salon.

“Oh hi, Mandy.” Her fake friendliness was obvious.

“Hi, Mrs. Sutton. How can I help you?” I can act, too.

“I was looking for your father. He was supposed to take a look under my hood.” She flipped her blonde hair from her shoulder with her newly manicured fingers. The curls bounced upward before they hit her back.

“I’m sorry. He stepped out to pick up some lunch for the guys. He should be back in a few minutes if you’d like to wait.”

She looked around the less than clean store portion of the garage. Posters of tires and car parts covered the walls that didn’t have the actual
tires stacked up against them, and the smell of oil and exhaust permeated the air. Grimy folding chairs lined the back wall, and a gumball machine with melted contents sat at the end of the wood-paneled counter I was sitting behind.

Her expression registered disgust. “No, that’s all right. I’ll come back later.”

As she pulled on the door to leave, I said, “I’ll tell him you came by to talk to him.”

“Okay, thanks.” And she was gone.
I wondered if she even knew that some jobs required getting dirty. After all, she didn’t consider my father to be a professional
.
Or maybe she didn’t know what a job was.

Dad returned with the pizzas and I informed him about Mrs. Sutton’s stopping by. He seemed disappointed that he had missed her visit. “I’ll give her a call. The part for her car came in.”

“Didn’t you change that last week?” I asked.

Panic washed over his face, followed by a blank expression. “That was a different part,” he snapped, before retreating into the garage with the boxes of pizza.

Each of the guys in the shop had two slices. I only had one, and I noticed my dad kept busy on cars all afternoon, almost as if he was avoiding me.

By three o’clock
, I had won twenty-seven rounds of Solitaire on the computer, and had peeled off the nail polish from seven fingers. My head lifted reflexively when the little bell announced another customer. My heart thumped hard enough to knock me off my stool. Even though the air conditioner held the temperature at a steady 72 degrees the entire day, I felt warm.

“I thought I’d stop by before I went home to shower to make sure you didn’t change your mind about Saturday.” His voice was smooth and dreamy. A smirk appeared on his face.

I swallowed hard. “Oh, I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Good. Remember, six o’clock.” I nodded my acknowledgement.

Then the little bell rang again when he walked out the door. I could still see him from the window, but I missed him already.

***

I had been to the supermarket on each of the two days since he stopped by the shop, but I knew I wouldn’t see him because he now worked the night shift.

The days drag
ged until it was Saturday. Sunlight filtered through my white lace curtains, making shadow patterns on the edge of my bed. I threw back my blue comforter and got dressed in just a few minutes. The clock said seven A.M. Cutting Bryan off at the bathroom door, I made sure my hair and make-up were perfect.

Bryan
was leaning against the wall outside the door when I finally opened it. “Your date isn’t until tonight. Why are you all dressed and ready to go now?”

I shrugged. “I’m not dressed for tonight, yet. I just can’t sleep.”

“Well, just because you’re ready, doesn’t mean time will speed up.” He pushed past me and closed the bathroom door behind him with a quick motion.

I didn’t care
; I felt good. Deciding not to waste my energy, I decided to clean my room. Starting with my closet, I shifted, sifted, and plucked, tossing unwanted items onto the bed until I had space on the bar for some new clothes. I made a mental note to buy some cute, girly things next time I went to the mall. I wasn’t going to wear anything that made me look nerdy and unnoticeable ever again.

At the bottom of the closet, I lined
up my shoes like little soldiers, and I pushed my left over school things neatly toward the side. Still a bit fidgety, I moved on to my dresser drawers, then my desk and bedside table. A quick swipe with a dust rag completed the change in my room from blah to ‘ah!’ By lunch, I had a large bag for donation to go to the local shelter. With nothing further to clean in my room, I found myself scrubbing the bathtub and wiping down the sink in both the upstairs and downstairs bathrooms.

“Give the germs a chance to understand what’s happening,” Bryan said
, as he walked by. “I’m going to work. See ya later.” He placed the hat for his burger uniform over his brown curls and he was gone.

I waved to acknowledge him
, before going back to my task.

With nothing else to clean, I tried to immerse myself in the book I started the day before school ended. I stared at the same page for over an hour and didn’t read one word.

Chapter
Fifteen

“Holy crap!” Bryan said when he came up to tell me that Rob was suffering through my father’s interrogation. His eyes bulged when he noticed the dress. Apparently, I had more than what the top of the dress could hold. “I didn’t even know you had girl parts.”

“It looks okay, right?” I asked looking down at the scooped neck of the simple black dress. Smoothing the short skirt, I looked in the mirror, and included a quick peek at the rear of my outfit. I slipped my feet into my plain black pumps, and then leaned over my bed to grab the matching purse.

“You might want to cover up while Dad’s still in the house. He’s not
gonna let you go out with only half a dress on.” Before I could answer, he was gone.

Taking another look in the mirror, I decided Bryan was right. I didn’t want to sabotage the first date I ever had by wearing something Dad would deem inappropriate. Reaching into my closet, I yanked a black sweater from its hanger and shot my
arms through it. I’d take it off the minute I was outside.

From the top of the stairs, I heard Dad talking to Rob.
I had hoped the deep inhale of breath would cushion my overactive heart so that it wouldn’t do any damage to my ribs. I took the first step down. After that one, I couldn’t stop; I wanted to be near Rob.

My Adonis stood up from the couch the minute my feet touched down on the last step. He looked very handsome in his khaki slacks and blue buttoned
-down shirt. His dark hair was neatly combed, and I could see his dimple from where I stood. From the recliner, my father’s eyes followed Rob’s line of sight. Unfortunately, he knew all too well what a teenage boy saw first on a teenage girl, and the dress I was wearing didn’t help.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Did I sound half as glamorous as any one of the movie divas that had used that line in countless Hollywood films?

He looked me up and down. His eyes drank me in. In a barely audible whisper, he said, “Wow!” That gave me wings to float through the rest of the evening.

Rob held his arm open to suggest we leave.

“Bye, Dad.” My father wore a blank stare.

Bryan was at the coat closet near the door. As we passed, he whispered something to Rob, but I couldn’t hear what it was. After Rob escorted me to his car, I asked him what Bryan’s comment was. He waited until I was
buckled in, and then he walked to his side of the car.

Rob pulled the seatbelt across his body and placed the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life. He looked at me with a suggestive stare. “He told me he’d break my legs if I wasn’t a gentleman.” A mischievous grin told me the thought had entertained him. I tried to hold back my own smile, but I couldn’t contain it. I was glad to know I wasn’t the only one who thought about Rob’s behavior.
Well, at least Bryan cared about me in his own way.

Although I’d never been on a date before, I knew that conversation was the norm
; however, the butterflies in my chest pushed their way into my throat and blocked my words.

“I hope you like Italian,” he said, turning his head briefly to look at me. Even the short flash of his blue eyes caused a jolt of electricity that started in my middle
, and extended to my fingertips and toes.

“Yes, Italian is one of my favorites.”
              Even though it was number three on my list, it would be my favorite from now on.             

A valet parked the car
, and we were seated immediately in a dark corner in the old-world style restaurant. The Maître‘d held the chair as I sat, and then offered me a menu. He handed one to Rob, too. I sat up straight and craned my neck to peek over the long, leather-bound list just to watch Rob’s eyes move over the options of food.

“The chicken parmesan is excellent here,” he said without looking up. “And they make the best veal
rollatini.” The waiter appeared just as he lowered the menu. They both stared at me.

“C
hicken parmesan, please.” My voice was barely audible over the music playing in the background.

“I’ll have the same,” Rob announced, handing both menus to the waiter, who wrote the requests down and nodded.

“And to drink?” the waiter asked.

“Cola?” Rob asked me. I nodded. The waiter wrote it on his pad and disappeared.

Only my eyes moved around the room, the rest of me was stiff with nerves. My fingers fumbled with the edge of the white fabric napkin in my lap. My self-conscious nature took over when I noticed that Rob was staring at me.

“You look spectacular.” His voice was
velvet, and a warm surge raced through my core.

My eyes looked downward at my fingers. “Thank you.” I knew my cheeks were red.

“I’m guessing you don’t get compliments much.”

Curiosity forced my head up. “Why do you say that?”

He smiled his confirmation. “Because you blushed when I said it.” The dimple was deep.

“I’ve never… I mean, other than my family
, I…”

“I bet there are tons of guys who are thinking it
when you’re near, even if they don’t say it. And, I hope you’ll get used to hearing it while I’m around.”

His sincerity made me feel confident. Not knowing what else to do, I looked back at my hands. “Thank you.”

The waiter appeared again, this time with a basket of bread. He placed it in the center of the table.

When he left, Rob
grabbed a slice. “You’ve got to have some of this. It’s the best bread ever.” He handed me the bread. As daintily as I could with my newly self-manicured nails, I buttered it and took a small bite. A smile confirmed my agreement of the bread.

Several quiet moments passed between us
, despite the busyness of my thoughts. Not only did I not know how to talk to this very handsome guy sitting across from me, but I didn’t know what conversation was appropriate for a date, having had no prior reference. The weather seemed like a lame topic, and I knew nothing about sports. Would he know literature? Should I talk about his job?

Rob swallowed his bit of bread. “Are you all right? You’re very quiet.”

“I… I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to do.” My cheeks grew hot.

“Just relax. Pretend we’re at the creek. I promise not to bite you.” The dimple appeared and I felt the corners of my mouth tug upward.

The waiter brought our salads, and Rob waited for me to begin.

After an internal debate, I decided to just come out and ask what I had been wondering every moment since the day in the park. “Why do you want to know me?”

His eyebrows arched high on his forehead and he stopped chewing. He dabbed the corners of his mouth with his napkin. Then, he paused a moment to collect the right words. “Well, I think you’re smart and talented, and very pretty.” He looked right at me. “And that dress makes me feel things I shouldn’t.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but I felt even warmer than before.
Did they shut the air conditioner off? Trying to stay on track, I asked, “But you can have that with any of the other girls in town. Why me?”

Lowering his salad fork to the side of his plate, he gave me his undivided attention. “Other girls are superficial.” His tone was sharp. “They only want a trophy, not a meaningful relationship. They look at me and see decent looks and money.”

Now my eyebrows arched.

“See, you don’t act like you think of my parents’ money. But all of those other girls make it the
ir business to know all about my worth. Their questions are always the same: Did I grow up in an affluent neighborhood? Did I attend private school? Does my family vacation in Aspen? What do my parents do for a living? Do I have a maid? They should just ask me for a resume and a W-2. Once they decide that my background is impressive enough, they move in to collect me–batting their eyes, flirting with me when they ‘accidentally’ bump into me on the street, or at the library, or the gas station. Hints of wanting to get to know me better are always the mask of their true intentions. Win the rich boy-toy and earn the envy of all the other materialistic people in the neighborhood. Forget he even has feelings. Even when I told you that I don’t have to worry about money, you didn’t ask or pry.”

When he saw me notice his fist, he lowered his hand to his lap. Sadness veiled his face.

I didn’t press him, but he continued. “I’ve lost too much to be used by such shallow girls. That’s not what I want in a relationship.” He lowered his voice and it was softer. “I don’t want to lose my dignity. My parents were killed not long ago, my house destroyed, and I’ve had to uproot myself and live with relatives–all while wearing a happy face and hiding what I’m really feeling. No one cares about the real me. They only want to use me–for looks, for money, whatever. I want to be with someone who cares about me for who I am.” His eyes looked into mine. “When I saw you that day at the deli counter, you didn’t try to be someone you weren’t. You didn’t act like you wanted to possess me. It was so cute the way you ordered something you didn’t even want just to save your own dignity. Until then, I didn’t realize how fake I’d become in order to convince people I was okay. You didn’t try to impress me with false pretenses. You were genuine… real. You were you. I was attracted.”

He took a sip from his
water goblet. My shoulders were stiff, and I had to remember to let my breath out. I kept my focus on him and he continued.

“I finished my shift that night thinking I wanted
that quality that I saw in you, the credence and self-acceptance I need. That kind of honesty is alluring.”

I contemplated his words. None of them seemed to fit. Certainly, I had never previously associated myself with any of th
ose words before.

“
You were intriguing. I had to find out who you were. I asked Eric, but he wasn’t sure. Then we ran into you at the park.” He let out a chuckle. He blushed with embarrassment as his eyes moved to his salad. “Sorry. This isn’t how I wanted our first date to go.”

What an idiot I’
d been. I was awed by his description of me. He was hurting in so many ways. I understood what not having what you want meant. I reached across the table and gently laid my hand on his. I swear I saw sparks when I touched him. Searching his face, I willed him to look at me, and he did. Our eyes locked. A cyclone of emotions whirled inside me. No words were necessary. When he looked at me, it felt as if the fibers of our souls wound around each other.

Our moment was interrupted when the waiter brought our entrees.