Read Online Love You Hate You Miss You by Elizabeth Scott - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Scott
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upset.
“See?” I said, and she said, “We’re not switching therapists, Amy.”
I think she expected me to say something but I didn’t. I didn’t say a word the whole way home, and when we got there I went straight to my room. I had to be by myself. I had to let silence wash away Laurie and her stupid questions.
I hate that she said such dumb things. I hate her stupid office and her stupid pen clicking. I hate the chair she sits in and the stupid diplomas on her wall, and I really hate her stupid questions. I can’t believe she asked me to talk about Julia and then didn’t listen to a word I said.
TEN
WELL, I’VE HAD my very first date. Predictably, it was a total disaster.
Also, it wasn’t a date at all.
I’d managed to block out the whole Mel thing—I mean, he didn’t even know where I lived—so when the doorbell rang tonight and Dad answered it, calling out, “Amy?” in a weird voice, I figured—well, I thought maybe Julia’s mother had come by.
I raced into the hallway. Julia’s mother wasn’t there, but Mel was. And so was Patrick. I stared at them. Mel waved and said, “Hey, ready to go to the movies?” Patrick looked at the floor.
“You’re going out?” Dad said, his voice even weirder, and then Mom came in behind me and said, “Amy? What’s going on?”
So then I had to ask my parents if I could go out on a date. In front of my date.
“But you didn’t tell us about this before,” Mom said at the same time Dad said, “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”
“Well, see…” I didn’t know how to say, “Well, the thing is, I didn’t mean to say yes, but apparently I did. Then I figured that since the guy didn’t know where I lived there was no way he’d show up, and so I was ready for another Friday night at home. Which should be obvious since I’m wearing jeans and a shirt with a ketchup stain.”
“I meant to,” I finally said. “I just forgot.”
“So now you want to go out with…” My father looked at Mel, who helpfully supplied his name again. “Who has brought along…” He looked at Patrick, who mumbled his name and leaned against the door like it was the only thing holding him up.
“Oh, right,” Mel said cheerfully. “You’re wondering about the whole bring-another-guy-along thing, aren’t you?”
My father looked like he was having a stroke—not that Mel seemed to notice because he just kept talking. “Patrick needs a ride. No car, you know, and so I figured,hey, I can pick up some gas money.” He laughed. No one else did, and now Patrick looked like he was trying to push himself inside the door and hide.
My parents really didn’t seem impressed by any of this, and for one (very hopeful) second I thought they’d tell me, “No way,” but then they shared a look, and although I think a little bit of it was probably related to some advice they’d gotten from reading Pinewood handouts or talking to Laurie, most of it was about them realizing if I went out they’d have the house to themselves for a while.
So they told me I could go. Dad did pull me aside before I left, though. He said, “Be home by eleven,” which I didn’t care about because, trust me, not a problem, and then, “Call us if you need anything. Anything at all,” which I did care about because he looked like he really meant it, and he’d never said anything like that to me before.
My mind was racing as I walked out of the house. Why had Mel shown up? Wasn’t he supposed to be walking with me or something instead of standing by his car tossing his keys from one hand to another and looking oddly proud of himself? What was Patrick doing here? Why hadn’t I at least brushed my hair, or better yet, changed my shirt?I was so busy trying to figure out what was going on that I—of course—walked right into Patrick.
What is it about him that makes me do stuff like that?
This time, though, walking into him wasn’t my fault at all. He was standing in the middle of the
“See?” I said, and she said, “We’re not switching therapists, Amy.”
I think she expected me to say something but I didn’t. I didn’t say a word the whole way home, and when we got there I went straight to my room. I had to be by myself. I had to let silence wash away Laurie and her stupid questions.
I hate that she said such dumb things. I hate her stupid office and her stupid pen clicking. I hate the chair she sits in and the stupid diplomas on her wall, and I really hate her stupid questions. I can’t believe she asked me to talk about Julia and then didn’t listen to a word I said.
TEN
WELL, I’VE HAD my very first date. Predictably, it was a total disaster.
Also, it wasn’t a date at all.
I’d managed to block out the whole Mel thing—I mean, he didn’t even know where I lived—so when the doorbell rang tonight and Dad answered it, calling out, “Amy?” in a weird voice, I figured—well, I thought maybe Julia’s mother had come by.
I raced into the hallway. Julia’s mother wasn’t there, but Mel was. And so was Patrick. I stared at them. Mel waved and said, “Hey, ready to go to the movies?” Patrick looked at the floor.
“You’re going out?” Dad said, his voice even weirder, and then Mom came in behind me and said, “Amy? What’s going on?”
So then I had to ask my parents if I could go out on a date. In front of my date.
“But you didn’t tell us about this before,” Mom said at the same time Dad said, “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”
“Well, see…” I didn’t know how to say, “Well, the thing is, I didn’t mean to say yes, but apparently I did. Then I figured that since the guy didn’t know where I lived there was no way he’d show up, and so I was ready for another Friday night at home. Which should be obvious since I’m wearing jeans and a shirt with a ketchup stain.”
“I meant to,” I finally said. “I just forgot.”
“So now you want to go out with…” My father looked at Mel, who helpfully supplied his name again. “Who has brought along…” He looked at Patrick, who mumbled his name and leaned against the door like it was the only thing holding him up.
“Oh, right,” Mel said cheerfully. “You’re wondering about the whole bring-another-guy-along thing, aren’t you?”
My father looked like he was having a stroke—not that Mel seemed to notice because he just kept talking. “Patrick needs a ride. No car, you know, and so I figured,hey, I can pick up some gas money.” He laughed. No one else did, and now Patrick looked like he was trying to push himself inside the door and hide.
My parents really didn’t seem impressed by any of this, and for one (very hopeful) second I thought they’d tell me, “No way,” but then they shared a look, and although I think a little bit of it was probably related to some advice they’d gotten from reading Pinewood handouts or talking to Laurie, most of it was about them realizing if I went out they’d have the house to themselves for a while.
So they told me I could go. Dad did pull me aside before I left, though. He said, “Be home by eleven,” which I didn’t care about because, trust me, not a problem, and then, “Call us if you need anything. Anything at all,” which I did care about because he looked like he really meant it, and he’d never said anything like that to me before.
My mind was racing as I walked out of the house. Why had Mel shown up? Wasn’t he supposed to be walking with me or something instead of standing by his car tossing his keys from one hand to another and looking oddly proud of himself? What was Patrick doing here? Why hadn’t I at least brushed my hair, or better yet, changed my shirt?I was so busy trying to figure out what was going on that I—of course—walked right into Patrick.
What is it about him that makes me do stuff like that?
This time, though, walking into him wasn’t my fault at all. He was standing in the middle of the
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