Just Me Read online

  “You lie.”

  Poppy turned to Shawn. “Tell her.”

  Shawn held my gaze and humor danced in his eyes. “He does, Lark.”

  Goosebumps prickled my skin as I tucked that lovely little tidbit away with all the other happy moments I wanted to remember always. There weren't many, but the ones I had were definitely keepers. I didn't respond with words, only a contented smile, but Poppy was still on her warpath.

  “So again, why would it be so unreasonable for you and him...” she gestured with her head to Sebastian “to get together.”

  “He's with the Cheers.”

  “Well, yes, that does show an abominable lack of sense, but he is new. Maybe he just needs someone else to take him under their wing.” She said this as she wiggled her eyebrows.

  “You're ridiculous.”

  “No, I've just never seen your eyes sparkle like they're doing now and I've known you for a really long time.”

  She might be like a dog with a bone, but she really was the bestest friend a person could have. I reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Thank you.”

  She gave me a moment and then she asked, “So are we a go for operation “Win Sebastian?”

  “No!”

  “Well, you let me know when you're ready.”

  “That's easy, I can answer that now, never.”

  She said nothing, but I didn't miss the calculating look in her eyes. That was all I needed, for Poppy to have a mission and one that revolved around me. I resisted the urge to bang my head on the table. This was going to be a very long year.

  ***

  On my way to art class for my free period, I noticed a cluster of boys farther down the hall. They were talking, leaning up against the lockers engaged in whatever it was boys talked about. When my eyes collided with Sebastian, I was surprised to see him in the mix or rather surprised at the ease in which he mingled with the others. He was new to school and yet to look at him, you'd think he had spent the past three years with these guys.

  In English earlier, my reaction to Sebastian had been out of character but I had chalked that up as embarrassment because I had been acting like a bit of a goof. The same could not be said of now, since Sebastian wasn't even looking in my direction, and yet my heart fluttered. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, quite the opposite, but physically reacting to a boy was definitely unusual for me. Nervousness filled me as I passed by the guys, or maybe it was self-consciousness. I didn't mean to look, I really didn't, but I felt his gaze on me and seeing those turquoise eyes staring so intently, turned the fluttering into a nearly painful thumping. There was no grin on his face; in fact he looked at me as if he was trying to figure me out. Pins and needles were shooting down my arms and my hands grew so damp, I feared my notebook might just slip from my grasp. I honestly didn't understand what I was feeling but I had to say, I really liked feeling it.

  It was hard to pull my gaze from his but I managed it and as I continued down the hall, somehow I knew those eyes were still watching me.

  ***

  After school, Poppy offered me a ride home but I could tell that Shawn was hoping to get Poppy alone, so I claimed I needed to stay late to chat with my art teacher, Ms. Whitney. Stepping outside, the bright afternoon sun blinded me, causing me to miss the small congregation that had formed in the parking lot. It only took a moment for understanding to dawn. I had been wrong. There wasn't a line of girls at Sebastian's locker; they instead were surrounding his bike. I wondered if his starry-eyed admirers were holding him captive. Though, from where I stood, he didn't appear to be in distress. And then my brain took a detour, as it had a tendency to do, and I envisioned rescuing him: the damsel saving the knight for a change. The idea was so comical, I nearly laughed out loud, again.

  Since he was surrounded, literally, I blatantly stared. Resting up against his bike, his feet crossed at the ankles, he looked sexy. And though he wasn't grinning like he had in class, there was something about his expression that was very appealing. Maybe it was simply that he looked really comfortable in his own skin. I couldn't deny I was fascinated with him but clearly I wasn't the only one. And on the cusp of that observation, an unfamiliar and equally unpleasant feeling twisted in my gut but I had no desire to analyze it. What would be the point?

  Just when I was about to turn my attention away from Sebastian and his horde, his head lifted and those eyes speared me from across the parking lot. I hadn't a clue what he was thinking, but the intensity of his focus turned the unpleasant feeling in my gut to a very pleasant one. Several in his fan club twisted their necks to see what had gained his attention. Having never been fond of the spotlight, I lowered my head and moved it along but I couldn't help the grin that curved my lips or the tingles that swept through my entire body.

  ***

  Instead of heading home, I detoured into town for a cup of coffee. My cousins wouldn't be home yet from school and frankly I didn't want to be alone in the house with my aunt. She usually ignored me but there was no denying the hostility and tension from her aimed at me, so thick and prominent that at times it felt as if there was another person in the house with us.

  I didn't understand her attitude toward me, especially since I was the daughter of her only sister: a sister she had lost at such a young age. You'd think she'd love and protect me based on that alone, but it definitely wasn't love that she felt for me.

  The heart of town was an easy walk from school and before long, I was settled at an outside table at the cafe sipping my coffee. I had intended to start my homework but it was too nice a day, so instead I people watched. I did that often, silently observed people. I assumed it was the artist in me.

  A loud and sexy rumble came from down the street and I didn't need to look to know whom it was. Somehow I managed not to look in his direction, but the exhale was involuntary when he drove past alone. So none of his admirers got a chance to ride on the back of his bike. I was far more relieved by that observation than I should be.

  He looked sexy, women watching him intently and turning their heads to keep him in their sights, was proof of that. What would it feel like to have the roar of his bike's engine pulsing through me while having Sebastian Ross wrapped in my arms? He stopped at the light, and I had to say it was damn sexy the way he straddled his bike. I'd love to sketch him when he was unaware I was doing it: to capture that quiet confidence that he exuded so easily. It was while I openly stared at him that his head turned and our eyes met. What was even more unusual, it was like he knew I was there. Unlike in the parking lot at school, his lips curved up into the slightest of grins. Before I had time to react in anyway, the light changed. There it was again, just a barely-there grin and my body was all warm and flustered. If he actually touched me, I'd probably spontaneously combust.

  ***

  That night I was working: the same job I had had for the past few years waiting tables at Alfonso's Pizzeria. Around seven the bell sounded over the door and a group of people entered. I didn't recognize any of them until the last person filed in—Sebastian. From my spot near the counter, I watched as he and his friends settled in a booth in my section. Great. Wearing my uniform of black jeans, white tee and sneakers and with my black hair pulled back into a ponytail, I looked eleven, maybe twelve. No point in dragging out the inevitable—I grabbed four menus and headed over to them.

  Sebastian's friends at the table looked much more like him, unlike the golden gods of the popular crowd that he had spent his day with. They were all dark-haired, all inked and all had an edge to them. Who were they? I knew they didn't go to our school.

  As soon as I approached, Sebastian looked up and our eyes met. I'm not sure where the thought came from, but I had the sense he wasn't surprised to find I worked here. A slow, sexy smile spread over his face and, as was the way whenever he was near, my body reacted. I never understood the expression about knees going weak, but I got it now. My legs turned to noodles. The fact that I stayed upright was a feat.

  My hands s
hook from nerves when I handed out the menus and I prayed that Sebastian wouldn't see that telling sign. Before I could ask them what they wanted, all eyes suddenly were fixed on me, but I didn't get the sense they were waiting to place an order. Their staring felt more like an inspection. I had to resist the urge to peer over my shoulder to see if there was something large, scary and possibly alien in nature standing behind me. And then I heard that deep voice and my mind shifted gears: the potential brain-sucking monster completely forgotten.

  “Hello Larkspur.”

  Sebastian Ross remembered my name. Sure we'd shared some heated glances, but actually remembering my name caused irrational joy to burn through me. But then again, I had made a bit of a spectacle of myself in English class, not to mention Larkspur was a hard name to forget. My joy fizzled out almost as quickly as it flared.

  “Hi Sebastian. Can I get you something to drink?”

  One of his friends, the one sporting a nearly shaved head and three earrings in his left ear, spoke up. “Can we get two pitchers of Coke?”

  “Sure thing.”

  I moved on, since loitering and staring didn't seem all that cool, and headed for the back to get their drinks. A short time later I managed to place their pitchers down without sloshing Coke over the sides since my damn hands were still shaking.

  At least my voice sounded steady. “Are you ready to order?”

  “Yes…” This came from Sebastian, but as I waited for more, nothing followed. My head tilted to the side as I studied him, because I couldn't tell if he was nervous or just not interested enough to finish placing the order. When I saw the light color infuse his cheeks, I had to resist the temptation to lean into him for a closer study. Could he possibly be nervous talking to me?

  The dude who ordered the drinks laughed out loud before he said, “Can we get one large cheese and one large pepperoni and four orders of fries?”

  “Sure thing.” Jotting down their order, I chanced a glance at Sebastian who seemed to suddenly find great interest in the tablecloth. It was there again, that snap in the air, but it was the shyness coming from him that did funny things to my insides. Luckily my voice didn't betray what I felt when I said, “It won't be long.”

  I had only just moved away from them, when I heard Sebastian say, “Thank you, Larkspur.”

  The directness of his stare, as I turned back to him, caused that pleasant feeling again. Now I blushed. “Yeah, no problem,” I said. My legs weren't steady when I walked away.

  Not long after Sebastian's group arrived, the door opened and Kira and gang entered. By the way Kira strained her neck to look around the place, I suspected she knew that Sebastian was here. In fact, she was so obvious I just took a moment to watch her. Mica, Carla and Sahara were with her and a more conceited, selfish group never existed. Again I found my attention drawn by Mica, who looked around warily, as if at any minute she was going to turn and flee. Odd.

  When Kira finally found Sebastian, more specifically found whom he was sitting with, I enjoyed the look on her face. She wasn't deterred though as she made her way over to him. That was another trait of the popular crowd I found annoying: no one and nothing was outside of their grasp. If they wanted something or someone, all obstacles be damned. If they were unable to move the obstacle, then mommy and daddy stepped in. It seemed Kira wanted Sebastian.

  As she stopped just in front of his table, no one paid her any attention. In fact, not even Sebastian looked up, which seemed odd considering they had all stared at me like a two-headed clown in a circus.

  “Hello Sebastian.”

  Did he just roll his eyes? This was quickly becoming very enjoyable to watch. Kira's pout deepened.

  “Hi Kira.”

  “I didn't know you were going to be here tonight?” She said almost accusingly.

  The slightest of grins touched his lips. “I wasn't aware I was required to tell you.”

  His friend with the buzz cut lowered his head and I noticed the shaking of his shoulders. Oh no, this was going to get ugly fast. Kira did not like to be laughed at. If she felt even the tiniest bit of censure, she immediately digressed into flaunting her parents' wealth and influence in the community. Sebastian's order was ready, so I made my way through the tables and stopped just to the right of Kira.

  “Excuse me, Kira.”

  “Larkspur, what are you doing here?”

  It took me a minute to answer…what a stupid question. I wiggled the pizzas I carried. “It's that time of the month and I am just starving all the time.”

  She flicked her hair, dismissing me, before she turned to Sebastian. “See you tomorrow.” Her ass swayed entirely too much as she walked away. I pulled my gaze from her ridiculously overplayed exit and turned to the table.

  A smile cracked over shaved-head-dude's face. “That was funny.”

  Placing their pizzas down, I spoke without thinking. “I thought it a fitting answer to such a dumb question. Enjoy your pizza. Flag me down if you need anything.”

  They spent a good two hours laughing and eating. When Sebastian started climbing from the booth, disappointment twisted my stomach almost painfully. I looked away, so he didn't catch me watching and possibly drooling.

  After taking the order for two other tables, I moved to clear off Sebastian's table only to find him standing by the door watching me. My heart slammed into my ribs. Our eyes met—he winked, then he walked out. I didn't know what to make of that until I saw he had scribbled his name and number on the back of the bill. My gaze flew to the door, but he was gone. Excitement and disbelief warred inside me as I pocketed that slip of paper.

  That night, after I got changed and climbed into bed, I just lay there staring at the number I’d added to my phone. Sebastian had left me his number, so clearly he wanted me to call him, but I didn't have a clue what to say. I couldn't look at the boy without breaking out into a cold sweat, so it wasn't hard to imagine me freezing up as soon as his voice came over the line. He'd either confuse me for a telemarketing call or worse, a stalker. My number would be blocked, maybe even reported. Wonder how Aunt Kim would take that? Having the cops knocking at the door looking for me, the stalker. She'd probably sell tickets. No it was better to text him something simple.

  Good night, Sebastian.

  Before I could put my phone on the bedside table, it buzzed, signaling an incoming text. Seeing Sebastian's number, even knowing already it was going to be from him, had my heart fluttering again.

  Larkspur, sweet dreams.

  Oh, I was going to be dreaming of him, no doubt. So, yes indeed, my dreams were most definitely going to be sweet.

  ***

  Something jarred me from sleep later that night. I half expected to see someone in my room, but a quick look around proved that false. A glance at the clock showed it was just after three in the morning. Climbing from bed, I made my way downstairs to get a glass of water. I didn't immediately see my aunt sitting alone in the kitchen, but once I did, I wished I had stayed in my room. Her eyes looked oddly empty. “What are you doing up? Are you looking to raid the refrigerator? Am I not feeding you enough?” She said.

  “I just wanted a glass of water.” My voice shook a bit, because truth be told, I was a little afraid of her too.

  She didn't acknowledge my reply and I suspected that was because she had already dismissed me from her thoughts. It wasn't my intention to say anything more, but it was strange to find her sitting alone in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning.

  “Are you okay?”

  I didn't think she was going to answer me and when she did, shock and bewilderment filled me in response. She asked. “Do you believe in hell?”

  It took me a moment to reply. “I think I do.”

  “When I die, I'll probably go to hell.”

  If that belief was based on her treatment of me, I had to agree with her on that point. But I kept that thought to myself. Her next words weren't directed at me. I had the sense that she was talking to herself. “There are times
I wish I could go back and do it differently. Even though I won, I didn't really win.”

  Her gaze lifted and a hint of tenderness peeked out. “It's not personal. Sometimes I wish I could compartmentalize my feelings, but I've never been very good at that.”

  I didn't understand what she was saying. My brain wasn't up to the task of deciphering this conversation because it was on overload. Normally the only time my aunt deemed to speak to me was to rub in my face all the family activities I wouldn't be participating in, going so far as to lie to my uncle about my disinterest in family gatherings as the reason for my exclusion. This insight into her, regret however small, was as confusing as it was unexpected.

  “You should try to get some sleep. You have school in the morning.” She stood and walked from the room. My mind was still processing the cryptic, and yet not unpleasant, conversation I had just shared with her, so I didn't immediately follow her out.

  Returning to my room, I settled in for bed, but I was perplexed by my aunt's behavior in the kitchen. It wasn't long after I first arrived that her attitude toward me changed. She didn't treat me like family and though she didn't beat me, or lock me in my room, she always kept me on the outside. It started with her forgetting to include me. Small things at first, like not inviting me out for ice cream, or to walk the dog. She would claim she thought I wasn't interested or busy doing something else, but later the exclusions became more obvious. Like when she decided to redecorate the house and every room was updated but mine. She had insisted that she had already redecorated my room before I arrived—but considering the wall color in my room was the same color of the hallway just outside my room, a color my aunt had repeatedly remarked on not liking—it was clear she had lied. And I couldn't forget the homemade school lunches she made every morning for the girls, usually with a daily note of encouragement tucked inside, but for me I got an envelope on the counter with money. And the few times I was included, it was more in the capacity of hired help—carrying the bags for my cousins' purchases, which included not one article of clothing for me. The ten-year-old girl I had been was thrilled to have been included in the shopping trip—I didn't comprehend the snub.