Chapter 3
By Friday, I've worked five days with Anthony, and I still haven't been able to figure him out. In fact, he seems to be repulsed by me, and this rejection is quite uncomfortable. The thought that he might be gay briefly crosses my mind, but I quickly abandon that thought when he tells me that he asked another senior—a female—to the prom.
"Are you going to the prom?" he asks.
"No." I pull on another weed, but curse when the gnarly root remains embedded in the black soil. A few boys have asked me, but my mom forbid me to go, so I had to regretfully decline. It's just as well anyway, for if I go to the prom, most of my friends will probably steal away to make out, or rent a hotel room, and I won't be doing any of that. I don't like any of the guys at school enough to want to have them eternally bound to me, especially not after seeing how Savannah acted toward me when I used my flair on her.
"What's wrong?" Anthony asks.
His deep voice brings me back to the present. "Nothing, just these roots are being so...difficult!" I plop down into the grass and huff.
"Of course, it's their job to be."
That's a strange reply. "My hands hurt, my knees hurt, and I'm getting behind on my homework."
"No one's forcing you to do this, you know. And why don't you wear gardening gloves? That would save your hands a lot of pain," Anthony says.
I frown. "I know no one's forcing me to do this. You don't have to state the obvious all the time. Besides, my hands can't grab these stupid roots when I wear gloves." I walk over to my water bottle and take a few sips.
Glancing over at him, I see the muscles in his back flex as he pulls out the weeds, and at that my heart starts beating faster. If I'm truly honest with myself, what I'm really upset about is that Anthony's pretty much just ignoring me, and it's driving me crazy. And for every passing day, my need to make him want me increases. I can't even explain why. It's not like he's been particularly nice to me.
The strange thing is I've also noticed that my obsession to control others is intensifying. Are the two related? And all a part of how I'm changing? I just hope it doesn't get any worse.
"So why are you doing this?" Anthony asks. "You've already put in your ten hours." Anthony wipes the dirt off his face with the front of his shirt, revealing his six-pack. His abdomen is as tan as his forearms so I conclude that he must play soccer—shirtless.
Feeling blood fill my cheeks, I force myself to look away. "I just hate leaving a job unfinished," I say. "Why are you here? You never told me your story of how you got stuck in the greenhouse in the first place."
Anthony smiles, his pearly teeth white against his skin. "I just moved here about a month ago and needed to earn some extra credit so I could graduate on time."
That's why I haven't seen him before. Most of the other girls in school must know about him, but since Ashley and I are somewhat outsiders, I've never been introduced to Anthony. "Where did you move from?" I'm pleased that we're having a conversation that sounds like an actual...well...conversation.
"From Norway," he says. "My mother worked there for a year, but then got transferred to Sarasota."
I think back to a discussion I had with my mom years ago, and how she said she used to live in Norway when she was younger. "My mom lived there before I was born." I kick a root in the ground, trying to loosen it.
"Really, where?" He strains as he pulls at another root.
"Somewhere on the west coast," I say, not remembering the name of the city.
"We stayed in Asker. It's about a thirty minute drive south of Oslo." Anthony pushes me gently aside and lifts the root up as if it's nothing.
Really? I huff, figuring I probably loosened it for him. "Did you like living there?"
"Sure. The people are down to earth, and their heritage is amazing. I became fascinated by the Vikings and did a lot of research on their mythology and folklore."
"I love Viking mythology." I pull on the next weed. "My mom studied Norse mythology and most recently, she told me there is something called a Huldra. It's interesting how all people think a Huldra is nothing but a woman who is obsessed with seducing men." I think I see Anthony's jaw drop from the corner of my eye. Maybe I shouldn't have brought the Huldra up; it is a rather intense subject, but I like his reaction more than I want to admit.
"Most people have no clue when it comes to Norse mythology," he says angrily and stands up. "We're done for today."
"But we just started," I protest. Was what I said that offensive? For a moment I want to use my flair on him so I can control him. Just lick my finger and touch his hand. But then I reconsider. Do I want him to follow me around...forever? Uh...definitely not.
"I forgot that I have somewhere I have to be. Have a good weekend." Then he jogs all the way back to the greenhouse, leaving me to the rest of the work.
Forget this! I'm not going to waste my time here, weeding on a Friday night—alone. Anthony gets upset about everything I say and annoyed by everything I do. I'm done weeding. I've put in my ten hours, and I'm finished. On Monday I'm going to ask Savannah to weed in my stead. I want to be around people who understand me and who make sense. I text Ashley:
Want to go see a movie?
Ashley's quick to reply:
Sure! How about the new zombie movie that just came out?
I loathe anything to do with zombies, but the gore and action might help me forget about this fiasco.
What time and theatre?
I type back. After about three minutes Ashley's reply comes.
7:30 p. m., Sarasota Square Mall.
Back home, I shower and finish some of my homework before heading out. "I'll be back around 10:30, Mom!" I holler on my way out the door, shutting it before I hear her reply. Hopping into the car, I catch a whiff of a familiar, heavenly scent. I love how my dad's cologne still lingers in the seats of the vehicle and how it makes me feel safe, like he's still part of my life. He used to drive me everywhere, and it was our time to talk about everything and nothing. I especially miss him on weekends when we used to go to the mall or hiking or camping. He loved nature and wildlife in general, and I could tell that being outside enlivened his soul.
I turn on the engine and I'm surprised by a sudden knock. I roll down the window.
"Don't forget your phone," my mom says, handing it to me. "You left it in the kitchen."
"Thanks." I grab it and put it in my bag. I really need to clean it out. I carry make-up, my wallet, a mirror, three adhesive bandages and antibiotic ointment—just in case I need them—a toothbrush and toothpaste, a travel-size hairbrush and gum. I never throw away any receipts, and they are starting to take over the entire purse. Tomorrow I'll get it done, I promise myself.
"Have fun, and say 'hi' to Ashley for me." My mom looks thinner than usual, or maybe it's just the way the rays from the setting sun hit her face, making her cheeks look hollow and the circles under her eyes darker.
"Sure." I roll up the window, pause, and then roll it back down again. "You should go out...have some fun too."
She smiles. "Don't worry about me, Sonia. When I'm ready to, I will."
Maybe I haven't been sensitive enough to her needs since my dad passed away. We never really speak about his death and the pain it has caused, we've only talked about the happy memories. I really want to be more open about how I feel before it turns into a wound that can never be healed.
"Go, or you'll be late," she says, waving her hand.
I smile, wave back, and pull out of the driveway.
* * *
"Well that was a complete waste of money," Ashley says, as we stroll out of the theatre with the others. The auditorium was only about ten percent filled, and that should have been a clear sign that this movie would be a dud.
"Agreed," I say, turning my phone back on. A text message pops up:
Sorry about leaving so abruptly today, but I needed to take care of something important. Hope you'll still weed with me on Monday. Anthony.
My heart pauses for half a heartbeat, but though I appreciate the apology, I'm still angry with him. Can one feel angry and intrigued at the same time?
"What?" Ashley asks, peeking over to read the text. "Who's Anthony?"
"He's the guy I weed with," I say. "I mean, you know last week when I told you I was sent to Principal Jenkins's office and he sentenced me to ten hours of school service?"
"Yes...?"
"Well, the guy who works in the greenhouse is Anthony."
"Is he kind?" she asks.
It's always Ashley's first question when I bring up a guy she hasn't met, and the second question is...
"Is he hot?"
I laugh nervously, hoping she won't pick up on it. We head into the ladies room.
"He's...nice—maybe, I don't know him too well yet," I say. Should I tell her what I really think? Yes. "And he's not bad to look at."
Ashley grins, her thick lips broadening with a smile. "Is he a senior?"
"Yes, he just recently moved here from Norway of all places." We stop by the mirror and I pull my lip-gloss out and apply some. I watch Ashley brush her thick, long hair. She has a broad forehead and is slightly curvy in a very feminine way.
"You'll have to introduce me." She gathers her hair into a ponytail and makes a sexy face into the mirror.
I laugh. "He's kind of moody, but if you want him, he's all yours." I regret saying it right away. The thought of Ashley and Anthony dating doesn't sit well with me for some reason.
"That's not what I meant. I want to meet the boy who hasn't even asked you out yet after having known you for more than half a minute. Most guys would have tried to marry you by now if you gave them any attention."
"Don't be ridiculous," I scoff.
"Okay, but it's almost true," she says, as though there could be no argument.
"Well, this guy has been ignoring me completely, at least until this last text." I pull my phone out again and at that moment another text pops up.
Want to get some lunch tomorrow? –A
I think about forgiving him and then decide it's worth it, at least for the time being. I show the text to Ashley.
"I'm telling you, I want to meet him. Does he have a date to the prom yet?" she asks.
I groan. "Yes, doesn't everybody?" It's only about a week until the prom.
"He probably asked her before he met you, though."
"No, he asked her on Thursday, but I can't go to the prom anyway, so it doesn't matter," I mope.
Ashley pulls out some pressed powder and applies it to her nose. "I don't get your mom. She's so strict. I mean, who doesn't let their daughter go to the prom?" She has that look on her face when she's extremely upset about something, which is about fifty percent of the time.
"It's more complicated than that," I say, wishing I could reveal more of my oddities to her. I just don't feel it's the right thing to do, at least not until I know exactly what it is that makes me so different.
"Really? How complicated could it be? I mean, I want to respect your mom's decision and all, but you've got to be able to have some fun in life. She doesn't let you go swimming, or have sleep-overs, or..."
I interrupt her. "I know, it sucks, but it's just how it is." I'm not going to try to explain it away, for no sane reason would be good enough.
"I'd understand it if it was a religious decision or something, but..."
"Can we just drop it please? There's nothing I can do about it and now you're actually making me want to go to the stupid prom."
Ashley gives me a really? look.
"Please..." I say.
"Fine, but I'll miss you." She pouts, then suddenly her eyes widen. "Hey, I have an idea! Can't you just go without a date?" She has this sneaky way of bringing up the subjects I don't want to talk about again. I fall for it every time.
"What? So I can be everyone's third wheel?" I really don't want to be the third wheel.
"There are a bunch of guys and girls going stag."
"Seriously?" I haven't considered going stag, but my mom just might let me go if I go alone, and promise to not get involved with anyone in any way, and come home at a decent hour.
"Sue is also thinking about going solo. I'll let her know that you're going and you can join our group," Ashley says.
"That makes it seem like I'm her date." I shake my head.
"There are a few others who also want to go stag. I'll talk to them and see if we can't plan something."
That sounds a little better, I think. "I'll need a dress."
"The dress is the easiest thing to get. I'll go with you tomorrow—after your lunch date with hot Anthony." She smiles playfully.
I laugh. "It's not a date—just lunch."
"Yeah, sure it is," Ashley says.
I text Anthony back.
Sure, just let me know the time and place - Sonia
Ashley and I go out and get a bite to eat, and before I know it, it's 11:00 p.m. We say good-bye and head home.