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“So, where’d you move from?” I ask her as we walk toward the doors.
“Um, just a few towns over. I’m in the foster care system, and I just got placed with a new family here.” Pausing outside the school, we lean against the brick wall.
“So, you don’t have any parents?”
She offers up a big but forced smile. “Nope.”
Even though a smile’s in place, I see pain behind it. “I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head. “It’s nothing for you to be sorry about. I was taken from my mom when I was still a baby. I don’t even remember her. I bounced around from place to place, ending up with foster parents who took me for the money. It’s always been just me.” She crosses her arms over her full chest and diverts her eyes to the ground.
I turn to face her, leaning my shoulder against the wall. “My mom died a long time ago. It’s just my dad, my brother, and me.” Why the hell am I telling her this? Maybe so she doesn’t feel so alone?
“I’m sorry, but at least you still have family.” She still doesn’t look at me. I don’t know why, but I want her eyes on me.
Something about this girl makes me want to reach out and touch her. I can’t fight the pull she has on me. Placing my hand under her chin, I lift her head until she’s looking at me. “I’ll be your family,” I say, giving her the same grin as earlier.
She lets out a small laugh. “What kind of pick up line is that?”
I shrug. “It’s not one. I just want to get to know you, that’s all.”
She studies me for a long minute. Her mouth drops open to say something else, but the bell rings, cutting her off. Adjusting her backpack higher on her shoulder, she nods toward the doors. “Want to show me where the office is?”
I push myself off the wall. “Oh yeah, I’ve been there plenty of times.”
She shakes her head with a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.
I walk by her side while the herd of students moves toward the doors alongside us. Surrounded by a sea of people, she takes my hand in hers. I look down at our conjoined hands, feeling a tingle of electric current ripple through me, and back up to her smile.
“Just to let you know…” I can’t contain my grin. “This is way better than a stupid pick up line.”
She laughs, and her blue eyes light up, sealing my fate.
I don’t know this girl, but I want to be the only person to make her eyes light up like that for the rest of my life.
* * *
“Have lunch with me?”I lean against the locker next to hers.
Her eyes flash over to me, and she smiles and nods. “Okay.”
I wait for her to put her belongings away and lead her down the hall and out to my car. We drive over to the local pizza joint in silence.
I’m normally cool around girls, but she makes me feel different. We connect on some level I’ve never felt before. And God help me, because I can’t put my finger on what it is that draws me to her.
She’s gorgeous, that’s easy to see. But there’s something about her that makes me feel like she’s broken, and I’m the only one who can fix her. Like she needs me. I’ve never been needed by another person in my whole life.
When I shut off the engine, I rush to meet her around the car. I want to reach out and take her hand in mine, but that isn’t my style. Actually, taking girls out to lunch isn’t my style. But it seems I’m breaking all my rules for this girl. So, I reach for her hand. When our fingers touch, tingles form in the pit of my stomach. She quickly glances down at our hands and then up to my face with a nervous smile. Maybe she felt it too.
We find a small, two-person booth in the back and sit down. The waitress comes to the table and asks us what we’ll have. I order two lunch specials, which consists of two slices of pepperoni pizza and a soda, and she walks away to put in our order.
I watch Alissa as she sits across from me. Her hands rest on top of the red and white checkered tablecloth, and her fingers twist together nervously, making the dozens of bracelets on her wrists jingle. Her eyes bounce from one thing to the next as she chews on her bottom lip. I study her for a while, trying to figure out what she’s so nervous about. Finally, when I can’t take the awkward silence anymore, I lean in and ask, “Do I make you nervous?”
She lets out a small, quiet laugh. “Kind of.”
The waitress sets down two Styrofoam cups full of soda and walks away. When she’s gone, I look back at Alissa and lean in once again. “Why are you nervous? If anyone should be nervous, it should be me.”
Her blue eyes flash to mine before she places her straw in her cup and takes a sip. “I don’t know, actually. I mean, I’ve been on dates before, and most of my old friends were guys… But there’s something different about you.” She tears her eyes from mine, looking at her cup. “Why are younervous?”
