The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted (11 page)

Aimee asked, “Are you hungry?”

“Well, I’m ready if you are.”

They quickly left. Aimee's dad shadowed them while they moved out the front door, making sure to complete his due diligence by giving his fatherly lecture about being safe and enjoying themselves, but not too much. As he gave Aimee a goodnight hug, a low whistle seeped through his clenched teeth. “Geez, that is
some
car. Yours?” he unabashedly asked. He stood there admiring Dylan’s brand new Toyota FJ Cruiser; jet black with a white roof and black racks. Aimee had to admit
it was fitting for Dylan; shiny and rugged looking.

“Dad, of course it’s his. Do you think he stole it on the way over?” Dylan laughed good-naturedly. When they pulled out of the driveway, her dad was still checking out the SUV with an envious stare.

“Where to?” Dylan asked after driving a few blocks towards the interstate.

“How about Burger Shack?”

Dylan shook his head and chuckled. “I have some place better in mind.”

“I love food, any kind. So surprise me.”

Dylan wheeled his FJ effortlessly onto I-5 heading south. Without taking his eyes from the
road, he stuck in a CD and turned the sound up slightly. They listened to music for a few minutes,
occasionally stealing glances at one another. The suspense was killing Aimee. She had to know where they were going as the SUV ripped down the interstate towards the California state line.

“So are we going out-of-state for dinner?” Aimee finally asked.

“Nope, Ashland. I wanted to take you somewhere different. Somewhere nicer than hamburgers and fries. I have reservations. I hope you like Italian.”

Aimee's mouth dropped open. “I
love
Italian! Dylan, this thank you isn’t supposed to be extra
vagant. Matter-of-fact, it's not necessary at all. I really enjoyed working with you on the project.”

“Well…” he started slowly, his eyes fixed on the road as he reached over and turned down the music so it was barely audible, “this really isn’t a thank you.”

“It’s
not
?” The surprise in Aimee's voice was obvious. He looked over at her with a cocky smile
.

“No, not really. Of course I really do appreciate all of your help on the project. I got an A. I couldn’t have done it without you.” He continued, methodically selecting his words, occasionally glancing over at Aimee to assess her reaction. “The truth is I’ve wanted to ask you out for a long time, since last summer actually.” He shot a fleeting look at her before continuing. “I know this is a first date, but I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since we worked together last summer.” He kept looking over worried like Aimee had quit breathing. She was speechless, but still breathing so he continued. “I kept hoping this past fall I would see you at the games or hanging out with Chelsea and your friends at parties, but, well, you know, Brandi was always around so it was awkward, to say the least.
So now since
that
little problem is no longer an issue I had to try…”

“Try
what
?” she asked dumbfounded, unsure where this conversation was going.

He waited a few seconds before peering over at her and answering. “I want to be with you.” He looked intensely at her. She should have been a nervous wreck worrying about running off the road at seventy-nine miles per hour, but he effortlessly kept the FJ rolling down I-5 with his dazzling eyes fixed on her. Besides, where this conversation was heading worried Aimee more than his fast driving. Finally, he shifted his eyes back to the road. They slowed to exit the interstate. Aimee didn’t say a word until they pulled into the parking lot at the restaurant.

She felt sick to her stomach. The thought of food was suddenly nauseating. But this wasn’t the kind of sick feeling that a person tries to avoid at all costs. This was the good kind of sick. The kind where you felt all hot and bubbly inside. The kind where your body might float off if it wasn’t grounded by some force, someone to hold you down, someone to wrap you tightly in his arms and mold his body to yours. She needed air. She couldn’t breathe. She cracked the window slightly and gulped a few cool wisps of the air infiltrating the warm interior. The SUV had been idling while they sat in the dimly lit parking lot. A young couple holding hands walked by laughing as they strolled lazily down the sidewalk ignoring the frigid weather.

Aimee finally looked back at Dylan. His eyes were imploring. They begged her for the right answer. She wanted to reach over and touch his cheeks, to have his body crushed against hers, to let him feel her answer, but her head was spinning. Her mind was filled full with confusing emotions. Hadn’t some deep, inner part of her fantasized about this moment? But girls like Aimee just didn’t get guys like Dylan. Nope, not possible!

She took a long breath and quickly, carefully arranged the words in her mind before speaking. Dylan continued studying her expression. His eyes never moved off Aimee's face. He leaned towards her. “Whoo... a…well…wow, this is a…surprise.” She took another breath, trying to steady her voice. “I’m usually not speechless around you…uh...well, except now, I guess.” She nervously giggled still struggling for the right words. “Geez…I didn’t realize how you felt. Dylan, I’m not sure I understand.
What are you saying…
exactly
?”

Without hesitating a second he said, “Aimee, last summer our time together made me feel
good, no, not just good, friggin’
great
about myself. I’ve been with a lot of girls the past four years, and
none of them made me feel the way you do. I don’t know what it is. You just have a way of looking at me and you’re all I can think of. You’re smart. You’re funny. And God, you’re so incredibly gorgeous. Why do you think I spent half of the summer doing volunteer work?”

Aimee shook her head. “I don’t know. I thought you enjoyed the kids idolizing you.”

Dylan scoffed. “Idolizing me? Yeah right. I stayed because of you.” He reached over the console and placed her cold hand tenderly between his warm grasp. His fingertips gently stroked her wrist. Amazing shivers shot throughout her body. He leaned in closer to Aimee, guiding her hand up to his lips and softly, slowly kissed her fingers. “Aimee, do you think we could try to make this work?” His voice was enticing. His eyes burned into hers.

She nodded once, very slowly, her thoughts captivated by his gaze.

“Good.” A satisfied grin lit his face as he kissed her fingers again, then gently released her hand. “I’ll show you I’m serious about this.” He turned the SUV off, got out of the vehicle, and moved quickly to the passenger side to open her door. “Now, shall we eat?”

The restaurant was perfect.
Very
romantic. After dinner instead of going to a movie as planned,
they went for coffee so they could talk some more. He missed the long, indulgent conversations they had the previous summer and wanted to catch up. He said he liked being with a girl who was unabsorbed, who could talk about something other than herself. His eyes were always on Aimee while he devoured her words.

It felt all too right, as if she would close her eyes and he would disappear, the evening a figment of her imagination. But Aimee was sitting next to him, their bodies touching while they chatted and laughed. All too quickly it was after midnight, time to return to Medford. As they drove back his fingers weaved into Aimee's, and she began to hum softly to herself. He laughed lightly and turned the radio down.

“Happy?” he asked.

“Happy,” she answered. If she was any happier she would burst. Aimee prayed he felt the same. This felt too good to be true, but hadn’t he been the one to break up with Brandi just a couple weeks ago? And Aimee now suspected this had something to do with her recent run in with Brandi. How could she compete with someone like her? But he had made his choice, and he wanted Aimee. She promised herself she would be happy as long as this would last.

They pulled into the driveway and Dylan cut the engine. The glacial air outside beat against the windows, but the temperature inside was steamy. Aimee's breathing accelerated as he looked at her. Then without a word he leaned in and took her face into his hands. Their mouths were inches apart. Their eyes locked on each other.

“May I?” he whispered. His sweet breath pulled Aimee deeper into his spell.

“Yes,” she murmured helplessly. He took one long gaze into her eyes, then pressed his tender lips into hers, softly at first, then he moved his lips more passionately against hers. After a minute he pulled back, stared long into her eyes, then smiled. He turned and jumped out of the SUV.

It took less than a second and he opened her door, taking Aimee's hand to help her slide out. They held hands as he walked Aimee to the door. Suddenly, the porch light flicked on bathing them in a yellow glow.

“I think Dad’s still up.” She laughed imperceptibly. “Dylan, this evening was amazing. Perfect. You really know how to thank a girl.”

“It’s my pleasure. I had an awesome time, too. Can I call you later?”

“You bet. Call me anytime. You have my number.”

He leaned in and kissed her lips quickly, lightly, with a twinkle in his eyes, then turned to leave. Aimee opened the front door. The hall was dark. She shut the door and leaned against it reliving the incredible details of the night. From the den a familiar voice startled her.

“Did you have a good time?” Her dad was lying on the couch apparently waiting up for Aimee.

“Yep, I did.”

She strolled into the den where he was stretched out and lifted his feet, placing them on her lap as she sat down on the couch with him. Sitting in the dark, they continued the conversation. She told him that he would probably be seeing more of Dylan. It pleased Dad. She shared that Dylan had been
offered a football scholarship at UC. He had plans to go pro, or maybe into law, like his stepdad. Dad was
very
pleased. Aimee also revealed Dylan's new FJ was a bribe from his father who lived in Portland. His dad was a die-hard West Columbia University alumni. He bought Dylan the FJ because Dylan was offered a full scholarship at West Columbia to play football. Much to his father’s chagrin, Dylan accepted the offer at UC. Aimee didn’t tell Dad that he intentionally took the offer to piss his father off. No need to tarnish his opinion of Dylan. Apparently the father-son relationship, at least on Dylan’s end, was strained. She suspected that might be the case when he told her he moved to Medford four years ago to live with his mother and stepfather even though he was born and raised in Portland and had a gazillion friends there and a super-rich dad who owned some really cool company with branches all over the world.

“So it sounds like you really like this guy?” It seemed more like a statement than a question. Her dad was perceptive.

“Yes, Dad, I think so.” Aimee blushed. He squeezed her hand before she slid out from under his feet. She kissed him on the top of his snarled hair. “Don’t sleep on the couch, Dad. Go to bed,” Aimee said before skipping off to her room with Zonker tagging along on her heels. She barely shut her door and she heard light snoring drifting through the house.

Aimee quickly changed into her favorite flannel nightshirt, gingerly tugged off the boots, then the skin-tight jeans. She could breathe again. She looked at the clock. One a.m. She dreaded calling Chelsea. Aimee loved her like a sister, but she wasn’t ready to share this incredible evening with anyone else but Dylan. It was too much like fantasy. She had to be sure it wasn’t one of her crazy dreams before the world got a chance to be part of it, but she still promised to call Chels so she dialed
her number. The phone rang and immediately Chelsea's voice mail popped on.
Cool, voice mail. She and Courtney must be doing something more important than waiting for my call.
At the sound of the beep Aimee rambled sketchy details of the date, hit the
End
button, and sighed with relief.

Dylan called a few minutes later, as promised. They talked long into the morning. The hours passed like only a few minutes. Finally around four she told him she had to hang up. Her flight was scheduled for eight in the morning. The rest of the day would be spent cleaning house, getting in a run, and then off to work by two. Aimee had to swear she would come over to study on Sunday before he let her go. He bribed her with his mom’s fantastic cooking and his charming company. She zealously accepted his invitation.

The night had been dreamlike, filled with magic. What was left of the wee hours of the morning was too. She dreamed wonderful dreams. Dylan was in every one, and they were in love. It was
perfect…
too
perfect.

**********

Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.
It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end.

1 Corinthians 13: 4-8

Chapter 7 The Stranger

Chinook winds blew in during the middle of the night warming the temperature enough so there
was no risk of canceling their flight for eight. Her dad had Aimee up before seven. The mood from the night before still hung on helping her to stay awake, but barely. Dad had been up for a while fidgeting in the kitchen. Two plates of breakfast tacos, piping hot off the comal, and a couple mugs of fresh, hot java juice with lead greeted Aimee. She really needed the coffee this morning to get her blood flowing. They gulped down their food and grabbed two travel mugs filled with more coffee. Dad didn’t want to be late even though the drive out to Mel’s at a crawl only took fifteen minutes.