“Uh…do you have plans for dinner? Like with your family, I mean?” he asked.
“No. My mother hasn’t been up for cooking much lately. Why?”
“My parents are going out with one of my dad’s new clients. I was wondering if you wanted to go get pizza or something.”
Whoa! Is he asking me on a date? My spine tingled at the thought. But what if I was overreacting? What if this was just a friends thing? Best to play it cool.
“Um…sure. Sounds good.”
“Pick you up around six?”
We hung up, and I barreled up to my room. It was too early to get ready, so I dug out some homework to work on. Concentrating during school was a nightmare, so I had started putting in extra effort into my assignments at home in order to make decent grades.
At school that day, I thought a lot about the whole empath thing and that storm of emotions that overcame me whenever I was around people. As much as I didn’t want to believe it, Jinx was right. I was picking up on the feelings of others. For example, I used the bathroom pass during study hall, and when I entered there was a freshman girl splashing water on her face at the sink. She’d been crying and her mascara streaked down her cheeks like skid marks. I didn’t mean to gawk at her, but the vibrations of anger rolling off of her and into me glued my feet to the spot. Goosebumps rose on my arms as the sinking feeling of betrayal coursed through me. I knew for sure these emotions were not coming from me. Two minutes earlier, I had been walking down the hallway humming along with a song stuck in my head. When the crying girl noticed me, she glared at me through the mirror and stormed out in a huff, followed by her cloud of cold rage.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I really needed to put this empathy stuff aside for a while and get some school work done.
When my history assignment was finished, I stood and stretched. The emotional tornado was taking its toll on my muscles, filling me with tension. I yanked out the band holding my ponytail, brushed my hair out and slid a thin headband in to keep it out of my eyes. Other than some light lip gloss, I hadn’t worn makeup to school. I wondered whether I should at least brush some mascara on or something. Jeez, it’s just pizza! I scolded myself. It’s not like this is a date…is it?
I left my jeans on, but traded my “Buffy staked Edward” t-shirt and hoodie for a light green peasant blouse. I surveyed myself in the mirror on the back of my bedroom door. Nice enough, but still casual. From my school bag, I took some cash out and tucked it into my jeans pocket. As much as Lony had tried to make me, I never took to carrying a real purse.
The doorbell rang. I rounded the corner at the top of the stairs, and to my horror, my mother was standing with the door open looking at Bryan shift his weight from foot to foot. Thankfully, she wasn’t in her bathrobe, but a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. I cringed at the sight of her matted hair on the back of her head.
“Mom,” I called out, hurrying down the stairs. “This is my friend, Bryan Sullivan…from school. Bryan, this is my mom.”
My mother turned at my voice and looked at me funny, almost like she couldn’t remember how she got there. “Oh…”
“We’re going to go get some pizza. Do you want me to bring you anything back?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not hungry.” She started to trudge up the steps toward her bedroom, but as an afterthought she added, “Don’t stay out late.”
I watched my mother disappear around the corner with my jaw hanging open. Are you kidding me? Whether it was a real date or not, this was the first time a boy picked me up to take me out to dinner —other than Shawn anyway, and he didn’t really count. I guess I’d have thought my mother might take a bit more interest. After all, Bryan could be a meth addict or a convicted felon for all she knew. When Lony first started seeing Cane, my parents insisted on getting to know him before they would let her go off with him alone. For two weeks, he had to endure awkward family dinners and watching TV with Lony in the den while my parents wandered in and out like an Army patrol to make sure they maintained clothes on and hands visible at all times. It’s not that I wanted Bryan to have to suffer through an embarrassing third degree. I just thought she would have cared more, that’s all.#p#分页标题#e#
“Ready?” Bryan asked, holding the door open for me. I could feel his nervous energy tingling my skin. I rubbed my arms briskly.
“Sure,” I replied, brushing past him out the door. I smelled the light spicy scent of cologne and smiled. He normally didn’t bother. I was glad I gave in and brushed on mascara.