Authors: Kelley Lynn
“I told Dad.”
That was probably not the right thing to say.
We cross the threshold into the house and immediately my mother's voice rises. “David, we need to talk. Darren and Lyra, you two stay here.”
I drop the bags of groceries off in the kitchen and hide in the living room. Darren in the chair, me on the couch. On the opposite side of the room.
And the yelling starts.
“So my daughter and husband are keeping secrets from me?”
“I was going to tell you when you got home, Ann. You were at work so I thoughtâ”
“You thought I didn't need to know my daughter's plans? Remember the last time you tried to keep things from me? It destroyed us.”
I inhale and shut my eyes. They have to be talking about the Cricket Project. So, it sounds like maybe Dad never told her about it. Sweat pools in my hands.
“Ann, it's not like that. I just didn't think it was important-”
“My daughter isn't important?”
Dad clears his throat. I can see the scene playing out on the back of my eyelids. Dad cowering in the corner. Mom leaning a fist on the counter, standing firm and tall.
But then I also see those bruises from the pictures. A truly happy mother and all that was taken from her.
“It's just, the last time Darren was over you got a little upset and I didn't want a lot of yelling orâ”
“Like we're doing now?”
“Like
you're
doing now, Ann. You have to trust our daughter. She is a good kid whoâ”
My mother's fist pounds the counter causing both Darren and I to jump in our seats. “How would you know, David? You're
never
around.”
I purposely keep my eyes off Darren. He's said as much so many times.
A warm hand wraps around mine and I feel the cushion next to me sink lower. I lean my head on Darren's shoulder and try to shut everything out but his touch. He shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here.
She
shouldn't be here.
We should go. I stand and gesture to the door. A crash comes from the kitchen, resounding over my mother's yelling. Both Darren and I sprint towards it.
Dad is holding Mom's wrist. She's gripping one of the glasses from their wedding that has their initials engraved in it.
“Our marriage means
nothing
to you!”
“Stop! Stop, Ann! Of course it does.”
“Mom, stop!” I yell and run to her side, trying my best to make sure neither hurts the other.
“I told you to stay in the family room!” Mom shouts as she tears herself away from both mine and Dad's grasp. I take a step back from her, my feet crunching on broken glass.
“Go, Lyra. Go to your party. We'll talk about this after we've all calmed down,” Dad says as he turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving Darren and I staring at my mother, her chest heaving for breath.
She looks scared, confused. I can see the worry and memories swimming along her eyes.
“Mom, I'll be home at eleven, okay?”
She waves her hand at me as if it's all she can do with the energy she has left. Grabbing Darren's arm, I yank him out of the house.
I didn't realize there were tears in my eyes until they're spilling down my face.
Darren looks at me sideways and grabs for my hand. “You going to be okay?”
I nod and sniff, try to compose myself. But my limbs aren't responding. My fingers shake as I run them through my hair. “I'll be fine.” I don't want this night ruined because of my mother.
But in a way, it's not her fault she's like this. She must feel completely and utterly alone. I take a deep breath and shake the thoughts away.
“Let's just try and forget about it.”
Now it's Darren's turn to nod. He starts the car and we drive in silence for the first few minutes. Then Darren clears his throat. “Did you get your haircut or something?”
I laugh and even though it comes out a little juicy from all the tears in my throat, I feel a small weight lift from my chest. “No. Just better fitting pants.”
“Oh. Huh. Cool.”
Another moment of silence. There's no holes in my new jeans so I can't pick at them. I busy myself with twirling my hair and staring at the stars.
The band's music floats through the open windows as we get closer. The street is lined with cars and when we finally find a spot I'm hoping beyond hope the strong bass beat can remove every other thought from my head.
“Shall we?” Darren holds out his arm and I hook mine in his.
As we walk we look up at the sky. Totally clear, alive with twinkling fire. We round the corner into the diner parking lot, and both Darren and I stop. I can barely make out the diner through the throng of people surrounding it.
“We should probably get in line now if we want something to eat.” Darren pinches my arm, and I punch him in the shoulder. “I'd hate for them to run out of Oreo Malts.”
“I want a burger and the
last
Oreo Malt,” I inform him as I run for the entrance.
The line wraps around the diner twice. Darren and I plant ourselves at the end. All the windows are open and with those inside trying to yell over the band outside it's almost impossible to carry on a conversation, so we don't bother.
That's the great part about being with Darren. We don't have to fill the silence.
The band is good. Rock music, but not too heavy, a mixture of electric guitars, bass and keys. I find myself moving to the music and watch as others in line do the same. I give Darren a look that says he should join in but he shakes away the offer.
About an hour after we arrive, Darren and I make it to the front of the line. An older woman, with a plumpness that says she eats here often, leans close and yells, “What can I get for you, honey?”
“Two cheeseburgers, one large fry and two Oreo malts.” I throw Dad's money at the woman while boxing out Darren with my butt.
“I have a job. I can get this.”
“No,” I yell and give him an extra push with my hip. He pokes my sides, and I spin around and hit him on the arm. He knows I hate being tickled.
“Well, thanks. I'll get the next one.” Darren puts his hands up in truce and we move to the side to wait for our order.
Our steaming baskets slide across the counter making my mouth water. I have the urge to bend down and pick up a fry with my mouth, since I have no hands free, but I refrain. It's
so
hard though. The mixture of grease and salt is drool worthy.
The lawn behind the diner is impressive, with many picnic tables and a stage for the band, who must be on a break. Which is fine. They're good, but my eardrums could use a breather. The students on our right definitely have more than just Coke in those cups. One accidentally sways into me but I brace myself before I lose my meal.
“Whoa. Sorry⦔ His eyes try to focus on me. “You.”
“No problem,” I mumble as we continue walking.
Darren laughs quietly and lightly jabs me with his elbow. “Those two over there, on the blanket, really need to get a room or something.”
I look in the direction he gestures to. Yeahâ¦no one wants to see that. I roll my eyes and laugh along with Darren.
I was always curious what it would be like to hang out with my classmates outside of class. It's definitelyâ¦entertaining.
“Darren! Lyra!”
We both turn and see Cindy waving us over. My muscles tense as I remember her offering me a ride to work earlier this week and my embarrassing response. But I also remember the smile she gave me as she walked away.
I think we're on good terms?
I put the food down on the table. Cindy grabs a fry out of the carton and looks expectantly at both of us. “Did you guys just get here?”
“We've been here for over an hour, but the line takes
forever
.” Darren unwraps his cheeseburger and takes a huge bite.
“Oh man. Really?” Cindy turns to the girl and guy sitting on her side of the table. I think their names are Billy and Tina.
“They say the line takes an hour,” Cindy tells her friends with a look of extreme hunger.
“That's okay,” the guy says. “I'm not that hungry.” The other girl nods in agreement.
“Hey, Cindy?” I clear my throat and hold up my cheeseburger. “I won't be able to eat all of this. Would you like half? You can have some of my malt too. There's a lot of food here.” I laugh, nervously, and steal a look at Darren who is transfixed on his burger.
“I would love some!”
I jump back at her enthusiasm. The girl's got pipes.
“Are you sure?”
“I'm sure. You don't mind me touching your half?” She shakes her head and I break the burger in two.
The band starts up again and with a mixture of the warm night, the conversation and laughter, and the
really
good burger, I can't help enjoying myself.
A fast, rockin' number comes on, and my classmates show off their dance moves in front of the stage, throwing off their old-fashioned sweaters as they break a sweat.
I see Tiffany Snow, sitting on top of a picnic table near the front. Long legs drifting out from a cute skirt and topped off by a pink blouse. It's at moments like these I question my wardrobe. But I couldn't possibly look as good as she does even if I was wearing her outfit.
“You want to dance?”
My head snaps to Darren's. He must have thought my interest in the dance floor meant I wanted to be a part of it.
“Oh, no thanks.” Not really the grinding type.
“Come on. It'll be fun.” He grabs my hand and Billy has the nerve to whistle as Darren draws me closer to the stage.
When we get past the picnic tables and join the masses of sweaty bodies, I realize the song is much slower than I thought.
I turn to Darren. “You want to dance to a slow song?”
“Sure.” He shrugs. “Why not?” His crooked smile is too good. My shoulders drop and I roll my eyes, though I know the pull on my lips does not go unnoticed.
I've never been to a dance, (sure that doesn't come as a surprise to anyone), so this is my first slow dance ever. At least I don't have to care if I step on his feet.
I look at him for guidance, so he takes a step forward, grabs both of my wrists, and rests them on his shoulders, then places his hands around my waist, pulling me close to him. Him holding me feels so good. I can almost erase the thought of all the eyes that might be on us.
And, even though I was certain sweaty palms and slight tremors wouldn't occur, I was wrong.
“You okay?” he asks. His breath warms my right ear.
“Uh⦠yeah. A little nervous, I guess. You know, standing out here in the middle of the dance floor where everyone can see me.”
I watch as Darren's chest moves due to his laughter. “It's just me, Lyra. No need to be nervous. It's not like I'm going to grab your butt or anything. Although⦔
I look up and meet his brown eyes. I shake my head and laugh, and then rest my head on his chest like I see most every other couple on the dance floor doing, and allow him to dictate our movements.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, collecting all the scents of the evening. Grilling burgers, night air, trampled grass, greasy fries, sweaty teenagers and Darren. Darren doesn't wear cologne, but he has a distinct scent. Fabric softener with a touch of metallic from the electronics store.
“See, that wasn't so painful. Was it?” Darren's dark eyes look down at me and I can't help but smile, amazed the song is already over.
“No.” He drops his head for a light kiss. My body ignites as a goofy smile grows on my face. Darren and I are together. He starts to pull away, but I put my hand behind his head and bring him in for another.
He drops his arms from my waist and grabs my hand. It tingles before it spreads through my arm, and I wonder if he can feel the heat in my fingers as he pulls me back to our table.
“Well done, guys!” Billy claps as we take a seat. Darren acknowledges his childish antics with a bow.
I fall onto the bench and practically land in Darren's lap as I'm left slightly lightheaded. He wraps an arm around my waist, keeping me firmly planted.
As I look around at my classmates, I realize something as small as this great night is partially because of the Cricket Project. And even though my heart aches for Carl, I can't help but be appreciative of this particular side effect. It's all so confusing.
Who knows what the next reality will bring?
On a high after my first real date, I decide to keep the good times rolling by heading to the library Saturday afternoon.
The weirdest part about my reality now, is I remember the reality before the AIDS wish, but my reality changed along with everyone else's for the wish about the war in Syria. So that ice cream store on the corner over there might not have existed before the Syria wish. I might be walking to a library that wasn't built in the previous reality, but there's no way I could ever know that now.
Thinking about it makes my head spin. So I'm just going to do a little harmless research. What do I remember, and how that's different from what reality. My heart patters in anticipation.
I love everything about our library, from its smell, to the comfy chairs, to the way the computers are a little dated.
Meandering past the welcome desk, giving a wave to my favorite librarian, Ms. Cannon, I decide my first stop should be the references area. Unfortunately, it's not where I remember it being. After searching for a few minutes, I'm back where I started and head over to the welcome desk. Ms. Cannon knows everything.
“Where are the encyclopedias?” I ask as I play with the fuzzy pen on her desk, used to sign out the computers.
“What?” Ms. Cannon laughs and tilts her head as if I'm talking crazy.
I straighten, my cheeks turning hot. “You know, the encyclopedias. Dictionaries. The References section?”