THIRTEEN
HADLEY
I
roll onto my back, stretching my arms above my head. Sunlight filters in through my window, painting yellow stripes on my cream colored walls. Propping myself up on my elbows, I glance over at the alarm clock on my dresser. I'm shocked to see that it's almost noon. How in the world did I ever sleep so late? Sure it's Saturday, but the twins are here this weekend, and usually they're up squealing at six a.m. Running a hand over my unruly hair, I sit up and let the covers slide from my body to bunch around my waist. I kick them off and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The silence is eerie as I walk across the carpeted floor and into the hallway. It reminds me of being at Dad's.
A quick walk into the kitchen and family room confirm my suspicions
that no one is home. I head back to my room and snatch my cell off my dresser where it sits charging. Sure enough there's a text from Mom saying that they took the twins to breakfast and the park. Rubbing my eyes, I head toward the kitchen to get myself something to eat. The minute my bare feet hit the tile, a knock on the door grabs my attention. I freeze, glancing down at myself and assessing my pajama shorts and t-shirt. I haven't looked in the mirror yet, but I'm sure that my hair is sticking out all over the place. Ignoring the knock, I walk further into the kitchen. I'm sure it's just a salesperson anyway.
When I reach into the cabinet to pull out a cup
, the knocking on the door resumes. They're pretty persistent, huh? After another round of knocks, I groan and shuffle to the door. Obviously they’re not going away. I'm hoping the scowl on my face will scare them off. Only when I open the door, it’s Tripp who stands on my front porch wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt that clings to his chest. My hands immediately fly to my head and I begin smoothing down my mess of tangles. I press my mouth closed, disgusted that I haven't even brushed my teeth yet.
"Hey."Tripp smiles. "Bruiser was wondering if you wanted to join us on a walk." He holds up his hand
, and that's when I notice he's holding a leash.
I glance down at Bruiser, who takes the opportunity to rub his head against my leg
and let out a friendly bark.
"Bruiser wanted to know, huh?"
Tripp shrugs. "What can I say? He likes you."
"Um..okay. Hang on. Let me just go change." I hug myself, feeling embarrassed.
Tripp's gaze lands on my thighs, and his eyebrows lift. "I think what you have on looks fine."
I blush. "I'll be just a minute. Wait here." After closing the door, I race down the hallway, my heart hammering in my chest. My palms are sweaty by the time I get to my room.
With clumsy movements, I fumble to open my dresser drawer and pull out some clothes. After getting dressed, I hurry into the bathroom and quickly brush my hair and teeth. If only I had time to put on a little makeup, and maybe run a flatiron through my hair or something that would be great. But I don't want to keep Tripp waiting. So, I grab my watermelon lipgloss and swipe some on swiftly before heading back outside.
Tripp grins when I emerge from the house. "Sorry. Did I wake you up, sleepyhead?"
My cheeks warm, and I glance down at my feet. "No, I just got up. I don't normally sleep in so late."
"Hey, it's fine. I wish I could sleep in on Saturdays."
Bruiser hurries ahead of us, and Tripp pulls the leash tight as he starts walking down my driveway.
I walk fast to catch up until we are walking in sync. "Why can't you sleep in? I know it's not because you have two little
kids running around screaming at your house."
A ghost of a smile plays
on his lips. "I wish. No, my dad just runs a pretty tight ship. He expects me up early to help with stuff around the house on the weekends. The only reason I'm even out right now is because taking care of Bruiser is one of my responsibilities, and that includes taking him on walks." He says all of this while keeping his gaze trained forward, his chin up and his posture straight.
"Sounds like a drill sargaent," I say with a slight chuckle under my words.
Tripp snorts. "Close. He's a correctional officer."
I guess that makes sense. The times that I've seen Tripp's dad I've been impressed with his muscles and size. As we walk a few more steps forward in silence
, I think about how weird it would be to have a parent who works at the prison. Then again, it probably isn't any weirder than your dad being a psychiatrist. Most people think that's pretty odd.
Bruiser barks as a car whiz
zes past us. Tripp yanks back on the leash as we make our way forward. The breeze feels good as the warm sun beats down on our backs. My tennis shoes clomp on the pavement with every step. We almost pass Tripp’s house when his front door pops open and his mom steps outside. She glances up at us, and I think she may have come out looking for Tripp. But her eyes are blank, almost like she’s looking right through us.
Tripp
's shoulders visibly tense, his jaw twitches and he swiftly turns his head from his mom. Her gaze drops. Perplexed by the whole exchange, I keep my lips pressed together as we pass the house. Before we round the corner, I peek over my shoulder. Tripp’s mom stands in the middle of her driveway staring out at the street looking lost. A chill brushes over my body. Everything about Tripp’s family seems strange.
“So
, you like to draw?” Tripp’s question cuts into my ponderings about his family.
“
Yeah.” I wrinkle up my forehead in confusion. “How’d you know?”
“I saw the sketch you were doing that one afternoon in your yard
. Remember?” He nudges me in the ribs. “One of the many times you told me to leave you alone.”
I giggle. “Ah, yes, that’s right. Sorry about that.”
Tripp shrugs. “Hey, I get it. You had no reason to trust me.”
I wonder if I have a reason to trust him now, but I let the question slide off and I smile at
him. “Yeah, I love to draw, paint, and sculpt. Really I just love art.”
“Do you want to be an artist when you grow up?” We pass a house with a guy mowing his front lawn
, and I barely catch Tripp’s words over the loud sound.
I’m grateful when we pass by and the noise becomes more and more distant. The scent of freshly cut grass still lingers in the air though. “I don’t know. It’s not really a practical dream.”
“I don’t think dreams are supposed to be practical. Doesn’t that negate the whole point of a dream?”
I nod, letting his words sink in. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” As we round another corner, I study Tripp’s profile. “What about you? What’s your impractical dream?”
He starts to open his mouth like he’s going to answer, but then he clamps it shut swiftly. His eyes shift back and forth like he’s thinking for a minute. Then he finally says, “I think it would be fun to be a pilot.” He lifts his head to the sky and closes his eyes just for a minute before opening them back up. “Then I could fly high in the sky away from everything down here.”
I can’t help but feel that there is a double meaning in there somewhere. “I’d be so scared to fly a plane.”
“So you’re not a risk taker then, Hadley?”
I shake my head. “Not at all. My mom used to call
me Miss Safety when I was younger. I don’t even really like roller coasters.” I cringe at my words. Now he probably thinks I’m an idiot. Why do I always have to run my mouth?
“
I love roller coasters. Maybe you just haven’t gone on one with the right person.” He winks at me. “I bet if I went with you, you’d have fun.”
I look away from him so he won’
t see how red my face is. How does he always have the ability to render me speechless?
"Ow." I pull back, reaching up to stroke my throbbing eyelid. Paige sits across from me on the ground, her legs tucked up under her body. She holds her arm out, the offending eyeliner pencil dangling between her fingers. "Okay, hand me the mirror so I can assess the damage," I joke, opening my palm.
Paige hands me the mirror, and I hold it up. The minute I take in my reflection I burst into laughter. I look like a clown. My lips are red, my eyelids are covered in a horrid bright
blue color, and scarlet lines are painted up my cheeks. Paige giggles along with me.
"You are the worst person in the world at makeovers," I tease her.
"Oh, and you're better?" She points to her own over-made up face.
"Fine. I guess it's safe to say
we both suck at it." I lean over and snatch my can of soda from the coffee table. A wet ring stains the wood, revealing where the can had been. I scold myself for not using a coaster, as I wipe the mark off with the sleeve of my shirt. After taking a sip, I snatch a coaster and place it back down. As I do, a knock on the door startles me. I glance up at the clock on the wall and cock my eyebrow.
"Expecting company
?" Paige asks.
I shake my head. The knocking
continues, so I stand up. It's eleven o'clock on Saturday night. Therefore, my mom, stepdad, Ainsley and Adam are all in bed. I scramble toward the front door, hoping that the knocking won't wake any of them up.
Pressing my eye to the little peephole, I catch a glimpse of Tripp standing on the front porch. Relief washes over me. "Oh, it's just Tripp," I say, reaching for the doorknob.
"Just Tripp? You mean, like Tripp Bauer? Why would he be here?"
As I pull the door open, I
feel guilty. I haven't exactly told Paige that Tripp and I have been hanging out so much.
"Hey
, Hadley," Tripp says, but when I turn to face him his mouth drops open. "Whoa. What happened to your face?"
"Paige gave me a makeover." I nod my head in Paige's direction.
"You really shouldn't let her do that to you." Tripp leans in close and speaks softly, his warm breath feathering over my skin. "Your beauty shouldn't be hidden under all that gunk."
My face warms. Is he saying that I'm beautiful?
No guy has ever said that to me, and I never imagined that when one did it would be Tripp Bauer. It's like a dream come true. Then again, I could be reading too much into one casual comment. Before I can analyze his words any further, Paige moves forward to stand beside me. Tripp's gaze flickers to her and then he shoves his hands into his pocket.
"You girls seem busy. I should get going."
"No," I squeak out desperately, and then feel stupid. "I mean, we're not busy. You can come in."
"Are you sure?" He asks sheepishly.
"Yeah." I smile. "Don't worry. We won't give you a makeover, I promise."
"I make no such promise," Paige says with a devilish grin.
"Just don't fall asleep," I warn Tripp. "Paige has been known to draw on people's faces as they sleep."
"Not people," Paige clarifies, as Tripp steps inside. "Just Hadley, and it only happened once."
"Twice," I correct her.
"Okay
, fine. Twice, but that's it," she confesses.
Tripp smiles. "Okay, I won't fall asleep then."
He follows
Paige and me into the family room. The movie we were watching still plays on the TV. When we make our way over to the couch, the vampire on the screen is sinking his teeth into a girl's neck. Dark red blood spatters across the screen in graphic detail.
"I did not peg you as a girl who liked vampire movies, Hadley." Tripp plops down on one end of the couch.
"I don't." I take the seat next to him since Paige is already on the other end. "But Paige loves them."
"What can I say?" she shrugs. "I'm a sucker for blood and gore."
"So, why'd you come over here?" I ask him, unable to hold back my curiosity any longer.
"I was just bored
, and I thought I'd see what you were up to."
"The most popular boy in school is bored on a Saturday night?" I joke.
"I'm sure you have a million parties to attend."
"C'mon." He nudges me in the shoulder with his elbow and the sk
in on skin contact causes goosebumps to rise on my flesh. "You know me better than that."
Paige's e
yebrows raise at this statement. I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do later. But he's right. I may not have been hanging out with him that long, but I've already realized that he's not exactly a party boy. Most weekends he hangs out at home. I'm actually surprised at how popular he is since he seems like kind of a loner. One thing I know for certain is that Tripp is a lot different than I had imagined him to be.
"What about you?" Paige asks him. "What kind of movies do you like?"
"Comedies, I guess," he answers.
"Ooh, me too," I say. "This movie is almost over. When it is I can put in something funny."
"Sounds good." Tripp grins at me, leaning back against the couch cushions.
My insides flutter and I rest my head back too. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Paige watching us with a wary expression.
After Paige's movie ends, I put in a comedy. By the time it finishes it's around one o'clock. Paige has fallen asleep against my shoulder, and Tripp yawns behind his hand. Lifting up his arms, he stretches just as the credits roll.