Читать книгу A World Without You - A. S. Peterson - Страница 9

3

Felicia

Later in the evening at six fifteen, the doorbell rang. Scott opened it to see Felicia Woods, his next-door neighbor, standing outside. He gave a quick nod. “You ready to leave?” he asked as he opened the front door wider.

“Soon,” Felicia replied as she entered the house. She moved past him. “First I want to show your mom my new clothes.”

Scott analyzed her outfit. As always, his neighbor looked fashionable wearing a jean skirt, a yellow sleeveless blouse, and blue sandals. Felicia’s long brown hair was pulled back into a braid while strands of curled hair framed her face. Her brown eyes were radiant with expectation.

Scott followed Felicia to the family room. She had spent extra time on her appearance tonight. He just hoped she wasn’t trying to impress Randy who was spending too much time with her lately.

As they entered the room, Megan spotted Felicia and squealed with childish delight. Felicia scooped her up, gave her a hug, and glanced at Scott’s parents who sat on their worn russet couch. She said, “I’m always amazed how Megan looks like you more and more every day, Mrs. Furman.”

Hearing Felicia’s familiar comment, Michael Furman joked, “At least Megan will be good-looking.”

As her surrogate father teased her, Felicia smiled. “Yes, but you’re good looking too, Mr. Furman. I just don’t know where Scott got his looks from.” She laughed at her own joke and set Megan gently onto the floor. Felicia moved closer to Scott’s mother and stretched out her foot. “What do you think of my new sandals?”

“I like them. Those sandals would go perfectly with my new summer dress. Where did you get them?”

“They were on sale at the Shoe Shack.”

“I’ll have to buy myself a pair.” Caitlyn Furman paused, noticing Felicia’s new clothes and attractive hairstyle. “You look very pretty tonight. You’re going to have a hard time keeping the boys away.”

Felicia scrunched up her face while she stole a look at Scott, her recurring source of irritation. “No, I won’t. Scott always manages to keep them away from me. He likes to act like he’s my dad.”

Scott leaned against the wall. From the corner of his eye, he caught his dad studying him. He replied defensively, “I do not.”

His dad stood, strolled over to Felicia, and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Scott’s not trying to be your dad.” He hesitated, fixing his attention on Scott. “He might get a bit protective, but it’s only because he cares.”

Scott pushed himself off the wall. This was a perfect time to leave. He looked at Felicia. “We better go if we want to get to The Parlor on time.”

A few minutes later, Scott and Felicia stepped outside. Felicia took a deep breath of warm summer air and smiled. “I’m so happy it’s summer. Patty’s having a slumber party this Friday.”

“Yeah?” Scott replied as they walked east toward the business center of town. They passed Felicia’s house, then Mrs. Morris’ house, and finally Mrs. Whitfield’s house. At the corner of the block, they waved at their two elderly neighbors who rested on folding chairs in Mrs. Whitfield’s lawn. A moment later, Scott and Felicia crossed Third Street. Children’s laughter pierced the air. The youngsters at the corner house were running through a sprinkler.

Felicia sighed. “Remember when we used to run through the sprinkler? It was so much fun until Derek moved here. Then your mom had to make you run through them.”

Scott grinned as he watched a young boy dash through the water. During the summer between third and fourth grade, Derek witnessed their summer activity and later mentioned only babies ran through sprinklers. After that, Scott only ran through them when Felicia complained to his mom, and then he conveniently placed the sprinklers in the backyard.

As Scott and Felicia walked past the yard, a powerful breeze blew a mist of water into their faces.

Felicia whined, “My hair’s going to frizz.”

“There’s nothing wrong with windblown hair.”

Felicia rolled her eyes. “You know nothing about us girls. We like to look nice when we go out for the evening, even if you don’t.” Scanning his attire, she said, “You could have at least worn your school clothes instead of your old gray T-shirt and your black jeans with little holes in them.”

Scott frowned. Compared to the outfit that he had worn this morning, these clothes were a big improvement. “They’re clean, and the holes are from battery acid.”

“Well, don’t be surprised when a girl doesn’t jump at the chance to go for a walk with you tonight.”

As they jaywalked across Oak Avenue, Scott thought about the girl in the park. No girl in this town could compare to her. He replied, “I’m not going to The Parlor to walk a girl home. I’m already walking with a girl.”

Felicia gave an exasperated sigh. “You know, sometimes the best thing to do is to ignore your sarcasm.”

Scott grinned as they cut through Second Street Park where he had played basketball this morning with Derek. Thinking about the difference between the parks in South Hillside and the park in North Hillside, Scott said, “I’m going to cut the grass growing through the cracks in the basketball court and along the restroom walls. I might plant some flowers too.”

Felicia nodded thoughtfully. “Why am I not surprised? You’re always doing some kind of yard work.”

When they hiked through the adjacent vacant lot, Felicia frowned. “Maybe you could replant and water the grass in this area. My shoes always get so dusty every time we pass through it.”

Scott’s eyes widened, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that idea. “Yeah, I could make it look like one large park.”

Felicia smiled. “You look like a little boy eager to start a new project.”

They reached Elm Avenue, turned east, and entered the business part of town. Crossing First Street, they headed north and strolled to the wooden bench in front of Orson’s Hardware Store. From here, Felicia would continue on alone to The Parlor, and Scott would enter a few minutes later. In South Hillside, whenever a boy and girl entered or exited the restaurant together, they were considered a couple.

Felicia placed her hand on Scott’s arm. She smiled sheepishly. “Do you have any money? I spent all my allowance on my new clothes.”

Scott shook his head. His neighbor could spend money faster than anyone he knew. “What do you owe me now? Five hundred dollars?”

“Very funny,” Felicia replied as she took the five-dollar bill he gave her. “Thanks, you’re the best.”

“Sure, now I am.”

Felicia laughed and gave him an appreciative hug.

Five minutes after Felicia disappeared into The Parlor, Scott entered the 1950s-style restaurant crowded with teenagers. The jukebox near the front door was playing Bryan Adam’s song “Everything I Do, I Do for You.” Felicia and her best friend, Patty, sat in a booth near the jukebox while Randy sat opposite from them. Although Felicia didn’t glance in his direction, Patty waved. Scott nodded and looked to his left, meeting Brett’s aloof expression. His friends’ area was two feet higher from the rest of The Parlor. Derek’s older brother, Justin, had helped Derek claim the most preferred area in the restaurant.

Instead of going straight to his friends’ table, Scott strolled to the counter near the cash register where Charlie, the husky dark-haired owner, stood. “Hi, Charlie, how’s everything working around here?”

The Vietnam veteran gave his lopsided grin. “Everything is in proper working order because of you. Thanks for repairing my freezer.” Charlie handed Scott a menu. “I owe you one. Get whatever you want. It’s on the house.”

Scott shook his head, looking at the scar on Charlie’s neck which he received from a Vietnamese in Saigon. “I don’t mind paying for my own food. I owe you more than you’ll ever owe me.”

Over at the sophomore area, Brett slicked back his chocolate-colored hair as he observed Scott walk over to Charlie. Scott was the smartest kid in their class but just the sight of that genius irritated Brett. He promised himself that one day, when Derek wasn’t around, he’d beat the crap out of Scott. Looking at his best buddy, Lance, who had taken a seat on the other side of the table in the corner position, Brett snarled, “Scott’s here.”

Karl and Lance casually turned sideways, looking behind them. While Karl observed Scott chatting effortlessly with Charlie, he scratched the side of his neck, wondering how someone as intelligent as Scott could be blindsided when it came to Derek taking the girls Scott liked. Karl turned and faced his friends. “I heard Margie likes Scott.”

Brett shook his head. “So what? I heard that Destiny likes Scott.”

At the end of the table, Derek, who had the best view inside the restaurant, rested his elbows on the table authoritatively. “You guys sure?”

Nodding, Karl glared at Derek. “Yeah, I have a reliable source.”

Lance crumpled up his napkins and threw it across the table. “It doesn’t take brain surgery to know that Scott’s not going to go for Margie, and when he doesn’t, I’m making a move for her.”

Matt grinned. Brett and Lance would use any advantage to get their hands on a girl. “Dude, Scott liked her in eighth grade.”

Lance growled, “That was then. This is now. He’ll shoot her down.”

Karl asked, “Do you have a plan? Margie doesn’t go for just anyone.”

Lance smirked. “Whatever Scott says, I’ll say the opposite. That babe will be walking out of The Parlor with me.”

Raising his eyebrows, as if a light bulb turned on, Brett wrinkled his forehead. “Dude, you got the plan. When Scott turns down Destiny, I’m making a move for her.” Flexing his biceps, he added, “Destiny will want these.”

Karl added with a pretended seriousness, “Maybe she wants brains and not brawn.”

Brett, who had the vocabulary level of a third grader, asked, “What bronze?”

As the guys laughed, Derek looked from Brett to Lance. His right-hand man always ran circles around these two. Leaning forward, he joked. “Don’t be surprised if Scott walks out of here with both babes.”

The guys laughed. Scott wasn’t the type. Leaning back on his chair, Karl studied Derek who was like an island unto himself. No one ever knew his true feelings. For that reason, he purposely aggravated him. “No, Derek, that’s what you would do.”

The guys shifted in their chairs. One of these days, Karl’s blunt comments would catch up with him. They waited for Derek to strike back with a threat, but today, he didn’t fall for the bait.

Derek rubbed his right clenched fist, narrowed his eyes as he stared at Karl, and shook his head slowly. “No, I’ll walk out of here with three babes.”

Sweat built up under Karl’s armpits. “Do you want to put your money on that?”

Brett interrupted their challenge. “Here comes Scott.”

Scott climbed the three steps, strolling over to the empty chair on the right side of Brett. From here, he could keep his eye on Randy and Felicia, and if they left together, he’d know.

Derek rested comfortably on his chair, relieved his comrade was present. “Hey, Scott, Karl doesn’t think I could walk out of here with three babes. What do you think?”

Without hesitating, Scott replied, “Sure you could. I’ll put money on that bet too.”

Karl doubted his chances of winning after hearing Scott’s confident answer. He decided to change his bet from Derek to Scott. “Dude, what about you? How many girls could you get to walk out of here with you?”

Scott scanned The Parlor and thought about the girl in the park, her innocent disposition, her long blond hair, and her sad expression. “None.”

The guys laughed. Karl shoved his dark-blond bangs off his forehead. “No confidence?”

Scott shook his head. “No interest.”

Brett raised his eyebrows as he looked at Lance who nodded his head with certainty. Their evening looked promising.

Jess, Adam, and Troy arrived next. Five minutes after their arrival, the door swung open as Pamela, Destiny, Becky, and Sondra glided into The Parlor as if no party could start without them. Their hair were perfectly stiff, their face had too much makeup, and their clothes and accessories were flamboyant as they tried to create a Euro Chic style.

The girls rushed over to their table, using their singsong voice. “Hi, you guys.”

They grabbed chairs from the nearest table, squeezing themselves between the boys. Pamela wedged herself between Matt and Karl. Becky and Sondra sat at the end of the table beside Derek while Destiny parked herself between Scott and Brett.

Scott moved his chair over, hoping Destiny was interested in Brett. To his disappointment, she scooted closer, smiling sweetly. “Hi, Scott. What have you been up to lately?”

He looked into Destiny’s gray-blue eyes. “Nothing.”

Scott nonchalantly studied her heavy blue eye shadow, her dark pink rouge, and her dark foundation that stopped at her neck. He was now aware of women’s makeup and whether or not it matched their skin tone. It had all started in seventh and eighth grade when he chose art as an elective. His art teacher taught them to notice every specific detail of art by the shadows and colors casting off nature to the fine details of a portrait. His art teacher also mentioned a human face was either oval or round and an artist needed to remember the skin tone. If you wanted the person in the portrait to look realistic, the exact colors must be applied to the face.

After that class, Scott no longer saw just people. Everyone became a portrait as he studied their faces, the shape of their jaws, and their skin tone. Then he began noticing the way in which girls applied their makeup, realizing the application of makeup was an art which either enhanced or destroyed the attractiveness of a girl. This knowledge came in handy when Felicia began experimenting with makeup. One day, when he was at her house repairing the oven temperature control, Felicia walked into the kitchen, looking like a clown. He laughed and mentioned makeup shouldn’t look like it was painted on the face. After that, whenever he was at her house fixing something, she’d ask for his opinion and he’d simply think about art: the shading, the highlighting, and the colors. He still wasn’t sure if this new knowledge of art was a blessing or a curse. Anyway Destiny’s makeup was too harsh for her complexion.

Destiny placed her hand on his arm while she gently shook her stiff jet-black hair. “You’re so funny, Scott. Every time I see you, you’re busy doing something.”

Scott scanned his friends who were trying not to stare. He didn’t miss Adam’s dark expression. Scott casually moved his arm from under Destiny’s hand, pretending he had an itch on his face.

As Destiny chatted, Shelley and Margie strolled into The Parlor. Last year, when Shelley moved to South Hillside, the two girls became best friends due to their similarities. They dressed in the American classic fashion with a more natural appearance. They crimped their shoulder-length brunette hair and were fanatical about saving the rainforest, protecting animals’ natural environment, and cleaning up pollution. The girls made a stand for an issue. That was one of the reasons why Scott had liked them both.

As they climbed the steps, Derek motioned to them. “Bring your chairs over here, there’s room.”

Shelley blushed, accepting his invitation while Margie grabbed a chair at the end of the table beside Scott.

Matt, Karl, and Jess hid their disgust as Derek rested his arm on Shelley’s chair. With three girls beside him, Derek was in his element as he kept them giggling.

While the sophomores conversed, Ruby, a middle-aged waitress, took their order and returned minutes later with their desserts. Scott ate the hot fudge sundae Charlie had given him. As Scott watched the clock on the wall in front of him, his mind wandered to the girl in the park. He began to formulate a free-verse poem. Rearranging, adjusting, and fixing the words until he was satisfied. He recited the final poem inside his mind. Your beauty was as soft as the breeze that whispered simplicity, splendor, and innocence. The exquisiteness of the park captivated my eyes, but your presence captivated my heart.

An hour passed before Matt made his move the guys had been expecting. “Pamela, do you want me to walk you home?”

After they left, Destiny encircled Scott’s left arm. “You’re always so quiet. Sometimes I wonder what’s in that brain of yours.”

Scott noticed a sudden lull in the conversation. He met Destiny’s gaze, contemplating on a way to discourage her advances. To bide for more time, he asked, “You want to know what’s in my brain?”

“Yeah, what are you thinking about?”

Scott remained stoic as an idea materialized. Pamela and Destiny were easily bored with academic subjects. “I’m reading a good book.”

Widening her eyes, she asked, “What’s it about?”

Scott took a sip of water, placed his glass on the table, and looked at Destiny. “It’s about the four quadrants in space and the ionized particles located in them. Did you know that ionized particles are radical atoms? Scientists believe that radical nuclei are fused in supernovas that create black holes.” Pausing, he patted her arm. “That’s what I’m thinking about.”

Destiny stared at him with a blank expression. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” She released her arms from Scott’s and turned to the group. “Does anyone have something more interesting to talk about than Scott?”

Brett replied quickly, “I read a book yesterday too.”

Destiny glanced at the boy to her left who was handsome, had a masculine body, but was severely lacking in intelligence. She was surprised Brett had even read a book. “Was it more interesting than Scott’s?”

“Yeah, there was a girl in it who was a fox. She reminded me of you.”

“Why?” Destiny asked, doubting he could recite anything romantic.

Brett scratched the side of his face. He hadn’t expected to give an explanation. He moved his attention behind Destiny, looking at Scott, pleading for help. Scott cleverly touched his hair while Brett added. “Her hair was long and pretty like yours.”

Destiny wrapped her arms around Brett’s right arm. “What else?”

Brett stroked his chin and glanced at Scott who subtly pointed to his lips. “She had a beautiful smile like yours.” Before Destiny could ask another question, he asked, “Do you want to go for a walk and look for black holes?”

Scott watched Brett and Destiny leave The Parlor and resolved their newfound relationship would last less than one full rotation of the earth.

Margie moved closer to Scott and smiled shyly. “I think you’re interesting.”

Great, Scott thought. He studied Margie’s sweet smile she had constantly given to Derek in the eighth grade. Back then, Scott dreamt her smile would be directed at him. It never was.

He grinned in return. “You do?”

“Yes.” She hesitated and rested her chin on her hand. “We don’t talk anymore. What have you been doing?”

Scott ignored his friends who had become quiet again. He knew exactly how to discourage Margie. “Well, I’ve been thinking about getting a hunting license. I hear deer meat is really tasty.”

Margie stared at him in astonishment as her right hand flew to her throat. She dropped her jaw. “You’re going to kill Bambi?”

Frowning and shaking his head, Scott replied, “No, you can’t hunt in the summer. Hunting season is in the fall when the fawns get older.”

Scott’s friends rubbed their mouth and suppressed their laughter while Margie jumped off her chair and looked at her best friend. “Can you believe him, Shelley? He wants to kill Bambi.”

Shelley gazed at Scott. She couldn’t picture him as a hunter.

Margie scanned the table. “What do you guys think about hunting?”

Lance spoke first. “I can’t image anyone killing a little critter. If I see one injured, I run it right over to the vet.”

Softening her look, Margie studied Lance, the huskiest boy in their grade. His robust body and his light-brown hair gave him the appearance of a big lovable teddy bear. “You do?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah, do you want to look for an injured animal?”

Margie folded her arms across her chest, doubting his request. “You want to look for an injured animal right now?”

Lance grinned. “Not really. I’d rather walk you home.”

Scott watched Lance and Margie stroll out The Parlor door. That couple will last as long as the one that just left.

Jess leaned over toward Scott. “You never change. You’re still offending the girls.”

“You know me. I’m the one that does the choosing,” Scott replied as he leaned back on his chair, pleased he had diverted the girls’ attention. The conversation at his table returned to normal while he sat comfortably, keeping his eye on Felicia who left The Parlor at eight-fifty. Three minutes later, he remarked, “Well, I’ll see you guys later.”

It was dusk outside. Felicia sat on the wooden bench, waiting for him. They took the same route home while she rambled on about her opinion of the couples who left together. “Matt’s too kind and handsome for a spoiled brat like Pamela. Destiny will leave with any boy who happens to say something charming, but I was really surprised to see Lance and Margie leave together. What do you think about those two as a couple?”

Scott shrugged. “Unharmonious.”

“Oh please, why can’t you just say they don’t belong together?” While they jaywalked across Oak Avenue, Felicia added, “Randy wanted to walk me home, but I told him my feet were sore. I knew you’d be trailing right behind us.”

Scott kicked at a rock. “It’s my responsibility to make sure you get home safely.”

Felicia rolled her eyes. “Randy can walk me home. Besides I think he wants to kiss me. He’s always telling me I have nice lips.”

As they strolled up to the same rock, Scott kicked it harder. Felicia was a hopeless romantic with a fixation for kissing. Like the girl in the park, Felicia seemed younger than the other girls their age. Scott had to admit, he was relieved since most girls their age were well past first base, and he was sure Randy wanted more from Felicia than kissing. He said, “Knowing Randy, he probably has some type of disease. You better think twice before kissing him.”

Felicia laughed. “You’re just saying that so I don’t kiss him.”

“No, I’m telling you that he’s been around.”

Crossing her arms in a stubborn protest, Felicia answered, “Well, I’m going to ask him if he has a disease. I don’t want to go into high school having only kissed you.”

Scott kicked the same rock a third time while he thought about their kiss last summer. He had finished mowing the lawns and pushed the mower into the garage. Felicia followed, wanting a favor. He could still hear her voice. Scott, I never kissed a boy. Most of the girls at school have done more than that. I just want to know what it’s like…so will you kiss me?

He remembered studying her, making a subconscious list of the pros and cons about her request. Finally it came down to the fact that he hadn’t kissed a girl either, so he accepted her request on one condition—their kiss must remain between the two of them. When she agreed, he led her to the shadowy corner of his garage, tilted his head, and brought his lips to hers. Her lips were soft and moist, but no other feelings occurred. That’s when he knew, she would always be like a sister.

Felicia rested her hand on Scott’s arm. “What are you thinking about?”

Scott scowled. “How you broke your word and told everyone about our kiss.”

“No, I didn’t. I only told Pamela.”

Remembering how Derek had questioned him about kissing Felicia, Scott replied, “Admit it, you told her so everyone would know you kissed a boy.”

Felicia pouted. “Okay, I did. I’m sorry.” As they strolled up the walkway leading to the front door of her house, she added hopefully, “If you want, we could French-kiss. Then we’ll both know what that’s like.”

“I don’t think so. You’ll have to wait until you get a boyfriend,”

Creasing her eyebrows angrily, Felicia remarked, “But you drive every boy away from me, so I’ll just have to keep kissing you.”

Scott crossed her lawn to his house. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

As Felicia watched her lifelong neighbor walking away, she yelled, “What am I talking about? That’s a joke. You never know what I’m talking about when it comes to that subject…but you know about everything else, like the stars, the atoms, the lawn, and fixing things.” When Scott ignored her, irritation bubbled up inside of her. She shouted louder, “I’m going to ask Randy to French-kiss me! And there’s nothing you can do about it!”

Ten minutes later, Scott was sitting on his bed, leaning against the headboard. In his notebook, he described Derek’s stance this morning when the topic of Shelley came up. His dad always told him, “If an individual doesn’t learn from his mistakes, he’ll never learn.”

A knock on his bedroom door caused Scott to quickly place his notebook inside his top desk drawer. “Come in.”

His dad entered and looked at the pen in his hand.

Scott was constantly writing down ideas and listing things. When he was young, he’d share his notes with his dad, wanting advice and feedback. By the time he entered junior high, the lists became private.

His dad sat on Scott’s desk chair and joked, “You’re doing some research?”

Scott tossed the pen onto his desk. “You could say that.”

His dad stretched his legs forward and got comfortable. “The windows are open so I heard your conversation with Felicia.” He paused and remarked seriously, “It’s time to stop being so protective.”

Scott stared at his closet doors, remembering when Felicia’s dad lay on his deathbed, dying from pancreatic cancer. Frank Woods had weakly clasped his dad’s hand and said, “Michael, will you take care of Janet and Felicia for me?” At the same time his dad gave his vow, Scott also made the same promise. Even at the age of eight, he knew he could keep a closer eye on Felicia than his own dad could. On the day of Mr. Woods’s funeral, Scott wrote Felicia’ dad a letter.

Mr. Woods,

I promise to take care of Felicia. I won’t let any boy hurt her.

Scott.

Scott frowned and thought about how Randy was unacceptable for Felicia. “I made my own promise, Dad.”

“Well, it’s time to start letting her go.”

“None of the guys in this neighborhood are right for Felicia, but I’ll keep looking.”

Michael concealed a smile. “Trust Felicia.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust Felicia. It’s the guys I don’t trust. You know they’re always bragging about scoring with the girls.”

“Most of the time, they’re exaggerating.”

Scott thought about his friends. The thought of one of them with his longtime neighbor was an idea he wouldn’t accept. After a brief silence, he admitted, “It’s hard to let her go, Dad,”

Michael stood and rested his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “You’re going to start working on it.”

After his dad left the room, Scott decided that keeping an eye on Felicia was still necessary since Randy was making moves for her.

He opened the drawer of his desk, took out his notebook, and jotted down the poem he composed at The Parlor. This Thursday, he’d give it to the girl at the park.

Around eleven o’clock, there was a rap on his bedroom window. Derek stood outside. A few minutes later, Scott closed the front door and the two friends strolled through the dark evening, illuminated only by the streetlights and the full moon. A cool mist had settled over South Hillside. They entered Furman’s one-car garage where they had their private conversations.

Scott turned on the light while Derek creased his brows. “Why did you shoot down Margie?”

Resting against the garage wall, Scott propped up his right leg. “I don’t go backward. I only go forward.”