Young Annabelle Series: Young Annabelle, the Truth About James, What My Heart Wants (7 page)

I looked over my shoulder.

It was the guy bent over the counter.

He was staring at me with a huge grin.

James!
  I blinked twice in quick succession, shocked that he was here, standing in front of me. He was ignoring Donna, who stared daggers at me.

Aren’t I Fireball to you, not Annabelle…?
I felt the green monster peek out as I saw James still leaning over the counter.

Still in Donna’s orbit.

“Oh – Hey!” I called back hesitantly. The bucket of cleaning supplies in my hand made me self-conscious. I was acting as cleaning lady today, there was no shame in that but it was a servant’s duty compared to Donna who sat comfortably in reception, looking down on me. Her piercing blue eyes lowered to my hands, smirking when she spied the bucket.

“Thought that was you!” James pushed himself away from the counter and approached me. I blinked up at him and took a step forward, letting the bathroom door close. I put the bucket on the floor and nervously wiped my hands on my jeans.

“You’re not working today? I thought you were…” I could see Donna over his shoulder, watching us, making me uncomfortable.

“I’ve
got a little secret to share,” He leaned close and mock-whispered, “I’ve been let off the hook.”

Donna was clearly not happy with the familiarity James and I already shared.

Got to him first honey!
I mentally stuck out my tongue at her, then quickly retracted it as I realized I stood no chance against her.

“What’s your secret?”

“I don’t have to work anymore!” He breathed an audible sigh of relief.

Confused, I just stared.

Anymore?

Why did he act like some burden was lifted off his chest? Had he been working his entire life, or was he really just the tool I first assumed? 

“Oh…” I replied slowly. I couldn’t think of what else to say without the risk of sounding bitter about the situation: One, I wouldn’t get to work with him anymore; and two, I still had to work and today it involved scrubbing toilets.

I stared down at his hands,
they had probably never cleaned toilets. He was a spoiled little boy and it annoyed me the way he was acting. I didn’t have a choice. I had to work or else I’d have no money.

“What?” James asked, noticing my disposition.

I hesitated. “I’m just wondering when the violins are going to start playing.” His eyes widened, offended. He was acting as if he’d done more than just half a day yesterday!

“Are you making fun of me?”
He asked carefully. The joyous light was fading from his green eyes as they stared at me in confusion. He didn’t understand. He was used to everyone being happy for him, like Donna

I wasn’t. And I wasn’t about to pretend to be. 

So I just shrugged.

“I’m a baseball player,”
He exclaimed, as if explaining everything.

What the hell d
id that have to do with anything?

If you play ball, you don’t have to work?

If that’s the case, sign me up!

“So?” I snapped in a voice that screamed ‘I don’t care!’

“I’m on the team now for Royal Heights. They started practice a week ago. I’ve missed out an entire week.” His explanation made no sense and his tone said I had made him uneasy. He wasn’t used to people not giving a shit about how ‘lucky’ he was.

“Again,
so
?”

He looked angry for a second, but his expression quickly melted into something else – something seductive.

Uh oh! I know that look… Prepare the shields, captain!

“Fireball… If you aren’t good, I won’t let you come to my practices,” James threatened. His voice would have melted any girl – just not me. I stare
d back in disbelief, he was so cocky.

“I’m good,” I shrugged, “but maybe ask
Donna
there if she’d like to watch you practice, I’m sure she’d jump at the chance.”

His lip twitched and something changed in his eyes, as if he were seeing me in a new light.

“Maybe I will.”

“Then maybe you should,” I snapped back. My lips tightened at the thought of Donna cheering for him on the sidelines.

Whatever!

“What was that, Fireball? Do I detect a bit of sadness in your tone?” He took a step closer, making me blush and look away.

“No!” I tried too hard to sound convincing.

Keep staring at the wall.

Do not look him in the face, or he’ll know you’re full of shit.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be far,” he whispered softly.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I slowly turned back. My eyes met his soft, silky ones. But despite his beautiful eyes, his words still annoyed me. I was sick and tired of people not taking me seriously.

Time to show him what’s up!

“I have to get back to work.” I didn’t want to fluff his ego any further, the text conversation last night must have gone to his head.

“Hey James!” Donna shouted. “Come back here!”

James’ eyes peered into mine, trying to decipher some code in what I’d just said.

‘I have to go to work’ seemed pretty self-explanatory to me.

Silence hovered over us until he gave in and returned to Donna.

Whatever!

“Later, Annabelle,” He muttered, not bothering to look back.

Pretending I no longer existed, James returned to his intellectually stimulating conversation with Donna. I rolled my eyes and returned to my bucket.

I had a job to do, toilets needed scrubbing.

*~*~*

“Please?”

“No!” I told my mother as she pouted from across the table at Luigi’s, an Italian restaurant twenty minutes from our house. It was odd that my family was in high-carb central, especially with my parents hounding me about my weight so much.

But things changed a few hours ago…

At noon, my shift was cut short. It had stopped raining but the dark clouds still looked threatening. I skipped lunch in the change room, even though I was starving and upset. I wanted to get home before the
storm started again.

As I climbed up the hill with my bike, my mind flashed back to yesterday when James
pushed my bike up the hill. My stomach twisted strangely, feeling like someone was repeatedly poking me.

I was irritated and I knew why – but I didn’t understand it.

When a guy acted like an asshole….. his name should have been immediately struck from the list of potentials. Not that there were any to begin with, but still. I was trying to cross him off, erase him, but nothing worked. I kept going over our conversation and my stomach kept aching. By the time I made it to the top of the hill, I was a nervous wreck. I hopped on to my bike and raced home.

A few drops landed on me as I pushed through the front door. My stomach growled as I peeled off my shoes. Unfortunately, the exertion of the bike ride had done nothing to ease my nerves, but it did make me hungrier. I still had my lunch in my backpack, but I knew it wasn’t going to be enough, not with how Mom packed. I headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge, scouring it for anything I could sneak upstairs unnoticed.

I needed two things right now: food and peace. Anyone who interfered with either was in for a nasty surprise when I bit their head off.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mom demanded from the other side of the fridge door.

I ignored her and continued searching for something edible.

“I packed you a lunch!”

I shuffled some items around, still searching.

“What’s going on in here?” Dad yelled, stomping up from the basement.

“Marcus, look. She’s going to ruin her diet,” She whined, turning to him for backup.

I grab
bed an eighty-calorie strawberry yogurt and slammed the fridge door shut. Mom scanned my hands to see what I took.

“If you eat that you’re going to be over your limit,” Mom tried t
o reason as I walked around her, grabbing a spoon from the drawer. Dad crossed his arms but remained silent.

“Yeah, well, I really don’t care right now!” I shouted.

She blocked my path from the kitchen.

“No more diet!” I exploded.

Mom’s eyes grew wide. “What – You can’t…” She stammered. Dad stayed quiet.

“I can,” I stated. “So don’t push me, or else I’ll leave and never come back!” My threat caused Mom’s jaw to drop. Dad put his hands on her shoulders, slowly pushing her out my way.

“Alright, alright, enough of this. Annabelle, you may go eat your yogurt in your room,” Dad said.

I quickly fled the kitchen and ran up the stairs. I slammed my bedroom door shut, rattling the windows. I could feel my temperature rising with my anger.

They can kiss my
fat ass!

No one bothered me for a couple of hours. They had a few brain cells after all, and noticed I wasn’t in the best of moods to be quarreled with.

I had finally cooled down when there was a timid knock on my door. My dad told me we were all going to Luigi’s for dinner. Smart choice, seeing as good Italian food was the only thing that had a chance of getting me out of my room peacefully.

Then I was informed that today
was going to be a ‘pass day’.

But once we were seated in the restaurant, the smart brain cells didn’t stick around, not where my mother was concerned anyway.

“Please, Annabelle, get diet cola not regular,” Mom begged in front of our waitress. “Please for Mommy!”

I stared at her and shook my head.

She was crazy.

Did she not understand the concept of a pass day?

We were at an Italian restaurant where my favorite food, spaghetti and meatballs, was their specialty. I hadn’t had spaghetti in a month and a half!

Calories at home can be monitored more easily than at a restaurant!
My mind mimicked in Mom’s voice, repeating what she had said when I started this diet.

I ignored her plea and ordered: “I want a
regular
cola, please.”

Mom let out an exasperated breath and dramatically flipped open her menu, scanning the drink selection for herself.

“Since a certain someone doesn’t want to make the healthy decision, I’ll go ahead a get that diet cola. Maybe she’ll change her mind later,” Mom told the waitress, letting out a little giggle as if to say, ‘Oh this girl, she’s fat and doesn’t know dieting should be a way of life for her. Because she’s fat. Oh, did I forget to mention she’s fat? That’s because she’s fat, and fat people shouldn’t drink regular cola, it’ll only make them fatter!’

Wow, she ha
d no limits.

Mom had no problem acting like a fool in public just to make her point.

To put it simply: dinner was a disaster.

But I didn’t care.

I got to eat spaghetti with meatballs for the first time in nearly two months!

If I had to sit through my mother hounding me in front of an entire restaurant about getting diet cola, just to get my favorite meal in the entire world, then I’d happily do it again.

But next time I’d pack earplugs.

When we got home, I went to my room to see if my cell phone was finished charging. I turned it on and it beeped several times, telling me I’d received five text messages while I was gone.

Who sent me messages?

Tiger sent you a message! (4)

Jenna sent you a message! (1)

I felt like I was about to have a mini heart attack when I saw ‘Tiger’ on my screen.

I was so confused.

I’d told myself that I was no longer interested in that douche – who dared to flirt with that attention-whore Donna right in front of me, as if I didn’t exist.

He was supposed to be ‘so whatever!’ from now on.

My body dared to disagree with my mind. It shivered in anticipation of discovering what he wrote to me. I resisted the urge and tapped on Jenna’s message first. Her text was probably going to be funny and I needed funny and lightheartedness before delving into more pressing matters that concerned my sanity.

Jenna:
My dad’s kur-azy! He ordered special t-shirts for my swim meets. Jenna’s Dad, arrow pointing up. And 1 for mom 2! Think I can get away with telling everyone we’re not related? Bitch you better answer me! Laters

Okay, that didn’t exactly help. In fact, it made me depressed knowing that her parents cared enough about her to get lame t-shirts made. They were proud of their daughter and weren’t afraid to show it. Maybe Mom would get custom shirts made if I managed to lose twenty-five pounds – my first achievement.

‘
My daughter lost twenty-five pounds and I’m so proud!’