This morning when I drove Zoe to camp, Jake was out in his front-yard hammock. When I passed him again on the way back we made eye-contact and I shot him a death-glance and then drove past the 3 houses between his and mine and pulled into my driveway.
I shut off the engine and leaned over to the passenger side to get my purse, phone and flip-flops from the floor (I drive with bare feet). I slowly sat back up then almost jumped out of my skin. There was Jake at my window.
I rolled down my window and looked at him, scowling.
“What’s wrong?” he exclaimed. He acted like he hadn’t even stood me up. He smiled and it was so annoying. I slipped my flip flops back on to my seat and gathered my purse on to my lap. He was such a jerk acting like everything was OK.
“You know what? It really doesn’t matter.” I could feel my cheeks getting pink.
“It does though!” He was laughing at me.
I slowly closed my window, still scowling but utterly delighted he was here, my whole body tingling with excitement. I pulled the keys out and then opened my door, practically hitting him with it and he jumped back. I hopped out with my stuff and looked at his face. He was still grinning at me.
“Dont’ be mad” he said, almost gleefully.
“I am not mad. I do, however, think it is quite rude to tell someone you are going to come over and then just not come over.”
“There is a simple explanation, Odette.”
“OK.” I looked at him and raised my eyebrows. The tree branches behind him were blowing in a light breeze and a car sped down the street too quickly for our small neighborhood.
“Well,” he said, “When I started to walk over here yesterday morning I noticed that your van was not in your driveway. So I figured you weren’t there.”
OK, that made sense I suppose. We didn’t have each others phone numbers so he couldn’t exactly text me. I nodded. He was wearing a white T-shirt and some longish shorts. His eyelashes were so weirdly long and it almost irritated me how pretty his eyes were. I could only think of others girls looking at them when I noticed them. I wanted him to come inside and help me with figuring out the right autism diet for Zoe. “OK, are you coming over, well, in, now?” I said.
“If you’ll have me.”
Gosh he smiled a lot. It was almost like he thought this whole thing was a fantastic joke. I ignored that sentimentand lead that boy right to my front door; heart pounding, palms sweating, consciously controlling my breath as I carefully unlocked my door with him standing deliberately close.
I turned and looked at him. “Remember, all we are going to do in my house is have you look in my fridge so you can help me figure out the best food for Zoe.”
“Right.” He said, raising his eyebrows with a sly smile.
Ugh. Through my excitement I had a bad feeling about this. It was too unplanned and the morning felt, disorganized. We walked inside and I put my stuff on the couch and walked right over to the fridge.
“Lets get to work.” I said. He followed me to the fridge.
“OK, but first, do you have any beer?”