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Authors: Tracie Puckett
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; your knuckles are white. Your voice is shaking, your forehead’s sweating, and I’ve never seen your cheeks that shade of pink. Something’s different.”
“ Nothing’s different.”
“And I’m going to go ahead and say it’s a guy .” She squinted at me. “You’ve met someone.” When I didn’t respond, not even with the slightest look, glance, or indication that she might be right, she sat straighter and readjusted her seatbelt. “Oh my God, you’re not denying it. You are so in love.”
“Will you let it go already?”
“ Who is he ? ” she asked, and her jaw dropped. “I heard you were working with Fletcher Wilson. Is it him? You and Fletcher?”
She faced the windshield for a moment, trying to picture the idea of that match-up. When she shook her head and cringed, I couldn’t help but do the same.
“It’s not Fletcher,” I promised. “No way.”
“Oh, thank God,” she said, p utting her hand over her heart. “Then who is it?”
“L et me stop you right there.” I slowed down as I approached the backed up traffic just outside school. I flipped my turn signal and waited to turn into the parking lot, and then I finally cleared the turn. “There isn’t a guy. I’m not in love, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Then why did you bring it up?”
“I didn’t bring it up,” I said, parking the car in my assigned spot. “You did.”
“Because… you’re like… you’re like the freakin’ Queen of Solitude, Mandy,” she said. “And somebody has done something to bust up that ice-cold exterior of yours. Someone’s gotten to you, whether you like to hear it or not. It’s all over your face; it’s in your movement.”
“What?”
“You’re usually calm and relaxed,” she said. “You’re chill, at ease. And you act like that because you’re always getting your way—you’re alone, and you like that. But when someone gets too close, your whole body goes berserk. You get all tense.”
“ What are you talking about, Bailey?”
“You parked the car two minutes ago , and you’re still gripping the freakin’ steering wheel like we’re going to blow up if you let go! You’re on edge.”
“I’m not on edge,” I said, finally peeling my hands away from the steering wheel and throwing my seatbelt off. “I’m simply trying to be a better driver, that’s all. A group that I’m involved with is about to host an awareness fundraiser about the consequences of unsafe driving habits, and I’m just trying to practice what we preach.”
“Well , that’s a load of bull,” she said, finally getting out of the car. She reached in and found her purse and back pack, and without another word, she turned on her heel and headed for the school entrance. I didn’t bust my butt trying to keep up with her, but I didn’t need to. She was waiting just outside the door by the time I caught up.
“I know you think no one knows you as well as you know yourself, but that’s where you’re wrong. You walk around acting like you’ve got it all figured out, but you’re just as lost as the rest of us. Get the stick out of your butt, and quit pretending to be someone you’re not. You’re human. You’re allowed to feel things, Mandy.” I rolled my eyes, hoping she’d see my impatience, but she ignored me. “Not everyone is going to hurt you like Mom did. Not everyone is going to break promises like Dad. Having friends, that’s okay. A boyfriend? That’s fine, too. You can’t push everyone away forever just because you got hurt once . Those stupid rules you made up, that’s all they are— stupid .”
I looked down at my feet and she quickly stomped my toe with the point of her heel.
“ Holy crap, Bailey . What the heck?”
“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” she said, pointing a finger in my face. I held her gaze, but I wanted nothing more than to break down and cry right then and there. I didn’t think my oncoming tears had anything to do with my crushed
“ Nothing’s different.”
“And I’m going to go ahead and say it’s a guy .” She squinted at me. “You’ve met someone.” When I didn’t respond, not even with the slightest look, glance, or indication that she might be right, she sat straighter and readjusted her seatbelt. “Oh my God, you’re not denying it. You are so in love.”
“Will you let it go already?”
“ Who is he ? ” she asked, and her jaw dropped. “I heard you were working with Fletcher Wilson. Is it him? You and Fletcher?”
She faced the windshield for a moment, trying to picture the idea of that match-up. When she shook her head and cringed, I couldn’t help but do the same.
“It’s not Fletcher,” I promised. “No way.”
“Oh, thank God,” she said, p utting her hand over her heart. “Then who is it?”
“L et me stop you right there.” I slowed down as I approached the backed up traffic just outside school. I flipped my turn signal and waited to turn into the parking lot, and then I finally cleared the turn. “There isn’t a guy. I’m not in love, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Then why did you bring it up?”
“I didn’t bring it up,” I said, parking the car in my assigned spot. “You did.”
“Because… you’re like… you’re like the freakin’ Queen of Solitude, Mandy,” she said. “And somebody has done something to bust up that ice-cold exterior of yours. Someone’s gotten to you, whether you like to hear it or not. It’s all over your face; it’s in your movement.”
“What?”
“You’re usually calm and relaxed,” she said. “You’re chill, at ease. And you act like that because you’re always getting your way—you’re alone, and you like that. But when someone gets too close, your whole body goes berserk. You get all tense.”
“ What are you talking about, Bailey?”
“You parked the car two minutes ago , and you’re still gripping the freakin’ steering wheel like we’re going to blow up if you let go! You’re on edge.”
“I’m not on edge,” I said, finally peeling my hands away from the steering wheel and throwing my seatbelt off. “I’m simply trying to be a better driver, that’s all. A group that I’m involved with is about to host an awareness fundraiser about the consequences of unsafe driving habits, and I’m just trying to practice what we preach.”
“Well , that’s a load of bull,” she said, finally getting out of the car. She reached in and found her purse and back pack, and without another word, she turned on her heel and headed for the school entrance. I didn’t bust my butt trying to keep up with her, but I didn’t need to. She was waiting just outside the door by the time I caught up.
“I know you think no one knows you as well as you know yourself, but that’s where you’re wrong. You walk around acting like you’ve got it all figured out, but you’re just as lost as the rest of us. Get the stick out of your butt, and quit pretending to be someone you’re not. You’re human. You’re allowed to feel things, Mandy.” I rolled my eyes, hoping she’d see my impatience, but she ignored me. “Not everyone is going to hurt you like Mom did. Not everyone is going to break promises like Dad. Having friends, that’s okay. A boyfriend? That’s fine, too. You can’t push everyone away forever just because you got hurt once . Those stupid rules you made up, that’s all they are— stupid .”
I looked down at my feet and she quickly stomped my toe with the point of her heel.
“ Holy crap, Bailey . What the heck?”
“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” she said, pointing a finger in my face. I held her gaze, but I wanted nothing more than to break down and cry right then and there. I didn’t think my oncoming tears had anything to do with my crushed
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