The Girl in My Dreams (6 page)

“Yeah, that dorky neighbor of mine. The one guy who treated me right even when he had a reason not to. I should’ve been with him all along,” she said before turning around the corner.

“Did you just?” Martin asked.

“Yup,” I replied, standing there in shock.

“Do you know what this means?” he asked.

“I think my life is about to get a little more interesting,” I said.

•••

“Oh, Theo, you look so handsome,” my mother said as she walked into my room and saw me all dressed up.

“You don’t think it’s too much?” I asked, looking down at myself.

“I think it’s just right. You look great,” she said.

I sprayed some cologne on, a woodsy scent that I’d used twice in the three years I’d had it, and sat at the foot of my bed to calm down a little.

“Nervous?” my mother asked.

“I guess you could say that,” I replied.

“Don’t be. This has been a long time in the making. Leah and I always said that our children would end up together,” she said.

“Well, we aren’t
together
,” I replied.

“Not yet, anyway,” she replied with a smile.

I laughed for a second before getting up and pacing around a little. I was moments from walking over to her house, all dressed up, for a date with Annabelle Hawthorne. How this had ended up happening I didn’t even know, as the past few weeks had been a blur, but the important thing was that it was happening. I wasn’t dreaming it, wasn’t imagining it, but actually living it, and that was a cool thing.

“Come here,” my mother said as she sat on the foot of the bed.

I sat down beside her, wiping my palms on the bedspread.

“If there’s one piece of advice I can give you, it’s to be yourself. You didn’t get this date with her by being somebody else and pretending to be what
you
think she wants. You got in this position by being the best version of yourself, and only yourself, that you can possibly be. She likes you for you, and nothing else. Don’t think otherwise, and don’t doubt yourself tonight. You’ll be fine,” she said, rubbing her hand on my upper back.

“Thank you, Mom,” I said, as my nerves started to calm down.

“Now go on and have a great time. You deserve it,” she said, standing up.

I looked at the clock, seeing I had about five minutes until I was supposed to be there. I got up, collected my wallet, phone, and keys, before using the bathroom, splashing a little cold water on my face, and going downstairs.

“I’ll be here all night if you need anything,” my mother said as I opened the door.

“And if anything happens, I’m right next door,” I replied.

“Have a fun time,” she said.

I walked out the door and down the front steps before slowly walking across my yard and into hers. The grass was beginning to get a bit cold as the stars twinkled above. There were many lights on inside Belle’s house, though no windows were open that I could see. I walked up her front steps for the first time in years and knocked on the door.

I could hear somebody walk up to the door before the handle turned and it opened.

“Theodore Quinn, how are you?” her father asked.

Her father, a burly man with a white mustache and a bald head, shook my hand as he welcomed me with a smile. I always liked him, even if he was somewhat intimidating.

“Oh, Theodore, I’m so happy to see you!” her mother, Leah, said.

“It’s great to see you, Mrs. Hawthorne,” I said, smiling.

“Oh please, call me Leah. I’ve known you long enough,” she said as she dusted off my shoulders and put her hand on my back.

“Okay, Leah,” I said awkwardly.

“Hi, Theo,” Belle said as she walked down the stairs.

There are few things more beautiful in this universe than a cluster of stars, but they hadn’t met Belle. Her eyes, radiantly green, were sharp yet soft, and her sunny smile could warm even the coldest nights. Her soft pink dress with a lace bottom fit her body perfectly as it flowed like an elegant wisp of cool autumn air. She was an amalgamation of everything that was right in this world, and I knew I’d never find a girl again whose mere voice would fill me with so much joy and emotion.

“Hey,” I replied, my hands in my pockets. I was almost sure that her parents could hear the nerves in my voice.

“Annabelle here has gone above and beyond on this dinner tonight,” Paul, her father, said.

“It smells great in here,” I replied.

“Paul and I are going to head out for dinner and a movie so that you kids can have a nice time without us poking around,” Leah said.

“You won’t be joining us?” I asked.

“Oh, no,” Leah replied, chuckling a little.

“I’m going to just go check on the food real quick. I’ll be right back,” Belle said.

Leah and Paul got their things, and he told her to quit messing around or they’d be late for their reservation. Before following him out the door, Leah came up to me.

“I just want to say how pleased I am that you and Belle are doing this tonight. It makes me so happy to see you around here again, and I just know something great will come from all of this,” she told me.

Smiling, I walked into the kitchen, where Belle was tossing a salad.

“You went through all this trouble for
me
?” I asked, looking at the spread.

There was salad, homemade pasta, garlic bread, drinks, and even a dessert waiting. I would’ve been happy with a burger and a glass of water, but she was really going above and beyond. She must’ve really felt bad about what Trent did, because my own mother had never made me this much food and she’d birthed me.

“Of course. When I do something, I go big,” she said.

“Can I help you with something? Maybe take it to the dining room?” I asked.

“Yeah, that’d be great. The pasta is just about ready,” she said.

Taking a few trips, I brought out the other food and drinks to the set table. A white tablecloth lay over top. I looked around as I did, seeing the plethora of pictures of Belle on display, as well as the many trophies, medals, and ribbons from her extracurricular activities. There were team photos, individual sports photos, and all of her school photos—the same photos I’d drawn hearts around in my yearbook, though I’d never publicly admit to that. Belle soon came out with a large glass bowl of sauce-covered pasta and set it down before I walked over and sat down next to her.

She grabbed my plate before I could and put food on it for me as I smiled just large enough to catch her attention.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, smiling herself, before setting my plate in front of me.

“Nothing,” I replied as she started to do her own plate.

“Tell me!” she said.

“You’re just cute, is all,” I replied.

“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself,” she replied.

I took my first bite of food, and it melted in my mouth and danced along my taste buds. The sauce, sprinkled with fresh garlic, was an almost emotional treat over the normal food I ate at home, which was nothing like this. There’s a pure ecstasy to home-cooked meals that you can’t get anywhere else. I should know, considering I rarely ever got them. They’re in a league all their own.

She watched me as I took my first few bites, getting everything in, as I guessed she was worried I wouldn’t like it or something. Boy was she wrong, but I understood her concern. I’d feel pretty bad if I put a lot of time and effort into something for someone and they ended up hating it.

“So, how is it?” she asked, with a nervous tone.

“Are you sure you want to know?” I asked, teasing her.

“Yes,” she replied.

“Now, you’re sure you want my
honest
opinion?” I asked.

“Yes!” she replied.

“Because if you’re not sure—”

“Theodore!” she exclaimed, laughing.

“It’s great. It really is,” I said, smiling before taking another bite.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that to spare my feelings?” she asked.

“I’m positive. I’d eat this every day for the rest of my life if I could,” I said.

“Play your cards right and maybe I’ll make it for you again in the future,” she replied with a smile.

“So, you made all of this by yourself?” I asked.

“My mom gave me pointers and recipes, but yes, I did it all
mostly
by myself,” she said.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” I said.

“There’s a lot about me you likely don’t know. I’ve changed a lot since we were kids,” she said.

“Yeah? How so?” I asked.

“Well,” she said, clearing her throat, as if she didn’t expect me to actually ask her, “I don’t play with dolls and ponies anymore.”

“Oh, yeah?” I asked, laughing. “What about your obsession with boy bands?”

“It isn’t as much of an obsession as much as it is a very strong admiration,” she said.

“Yeah, let’s go with that,” I said.

“And what about you? Are you still wearing dinosaur pajamas and Batman underwear?” she asked.

“Hey, you’re just jealous you didn’t have any. I wore those with
style
,” I said.

“Style? Is that what we’re calling it now?” she teased.

“Yes, yes, we are,” I replied.

There was something so comforting about just talking with Belle. We could be serious and talk about life subjects, but also about stupid and embarrassing stuff from our childhoods. As long as we were talking and together, that was all that mattered. It was just sad that it took so long to get to this point.

“So, what colleges are you applying to?” she asked.

“None,” I replied.

“None?”
she asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, none,” I said.

“Why not?” she asked.

“I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I feel like I haven’t even scratched the surface on that question,” I said.

“Well, you can’t just not go to college,” she said.

“I can’t? Plenty of other people don’t go, so why not me?”

“Because you’re not those people, Theo. You’re . . .
Theo
, and the smartest person I know,” she said.

“Oh please. I’m not. People always think I’m smart just because I’m quiet. College just isn’t for me—at least not now. Maybe someday, hopefully someday, but not now. Once I figure out what my passion is, I’ll go,” I said.

“Promise me?” she asked.

“Promise you what?” I replied.

“That you’ll go to college someday, and hopefully someday soon. I don’t want you to end up as some cashier somewhere because you never figured it out. You have so much potential,” she said.

“Fine, I promise I’ll go one day,” I said.

“Good, but let’s talk about a new subject. So, have you talked to your father lately?” she asked.

“Boy, you really aren’t holding back tonight, are you?” I said.

“I’m sorry! We can change the subject again. I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said, the nervousness clear in her voice.

“It’s fine. I guess if I’m going to talk to anybody about it, it would be you. The answer to your question is no,” I said.

“Do you want to? You know, talk to him?” she asked.

“I guess it depends on what day you’re asking, really. Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier, especially during times I need help or something, but then I also think that if he wanted to talk to me, he would. He hasn’t, so I don’t. It’s as simple as that,” I said.

“Maybe he feels the same way that you do, though,” she said.

“Then maybe he should get off his lazy ass and do his job. He’s the parent, not me,” I said as my voice began to rise.

She looked a little unnerved, pushing her food around on her plate, with her head tilted down and her other hand in her lap. I quickly calmed down, getting my bearings again, as I realized what I’d done. She wasn’t him, and she didn’t deserve to get yelled at like that.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

“You’re fine. I’m the one who pushed and probed for an answer. I shouldn’t have done it,” she said.

“Hey,” I said, reaching out and taking her hand. “You did nothing wrong. It’s normal to be curious, and I know you were doing it from a good place. I know you want the best for me.”

“Thank you,” she said, gripping my hand tighter.

•••

“Want to watch a movie or something?” she asked after we cleaned the dishes and put everything away.

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets.

“Great! What do you want to watch?” she asked.

“Anything you want to watch is fine,” I said.

She turned around and walked into the living room as I wiped my palms furiously against my pants before smelling my breath as I blew it against my palm. Okay, calm down, Theo. People watched movies together all the time without it being tense. This was one of those times. It was just a movie—that was it.

I sat down near her on the couch as she scrolled through Netflix and found something in her feed. She turned it on and turned off the lamps on the end tables as the bright glow of the opening credits filled the otherwise darkened room. I saw blood splatter on the screen, indicating the worst kind of movie in the world: horror.

Normally I avoid them at all costs, as the creepy music and jumping people give me heart palpitations, but I knew I needed to suck it up right here, right now, and not look like a scared little puppy in front of Belle, of all people. That might be okay with Martin, but not her.

After about twenty minutes, and countless beads of sweat dripping down the side of my head from anticipation, Belle shivered, the hairs on her arms standing up as she crossed them.

“Can you get me that blanket?” she asked, pointing at the love seat. “I’m cold.”

I stood up, got it, and brought it back to her before sitting back down on the next cushion. I could sense her looking at me, before I looked back over, seeing her staring at me, almost giggling.

“What?” I asked inquisitively.

“Aren’t you cold? You can get under it too, if you want,” she said.

The blanket, a blue knitted one, wasn’t all too long, and definitely not long enough to reach me, unless I wanted a tiny shred of fabric.

“It’s not long enough, though,” I said stupidly.

“Then come closer,” she replied.