I Shouldn't Love Him
I Shouldn’t Love Him (Book 2) – Chapter 47

LAKE

It seemed unfair to spend three hours a day in a classroom during the summer, only to wait thirty minutes more in the parking lot. There were things I could do, like walk home or tell my parents that my big sister was always late to pick me up, but either of those possibilities inevitably led to a or two arguments. Dad was going to yell at Tiffany. She would take it out on me for her punishment.

In any case, it would be useless now, there are only two days of summer school left. I didn’t have my license yet, so what right did I have to complain? Instead, I did what I did every other afternoon and picked up one of the books I needed to read before the summer was over.

A few pages later, Tiffany came around the corner, stopping abruptly on the sidewalk.

“Come in,” she said, as if I was making her late for something when I had done nothing but wait in one place for forty-five minutes. “Come on.

Hurry- you.

Unemployed, my nineteen-year-old sister lived at home, ate mom and dad’s food, and had an allowance that my dad constantly threatened to cut off. She had only one job: to take me and take me home from school.

Driving through stop signs on the way home, she explained the rush.

“If Brad calls, I don’t want to miss him. I’ve been waiting for years ask me out.”

It would have been easy to not care that she was driving twenty miles over the speed limit—the windows were down, the breeze was warm, and there were still six weeks of summer left. But Tiffany knew better.

“You’re going to get arrested, and Dad’s going to have your car confiscated,” I told him.

“Maybe for a day, but I’ll get it back.”

“Can’t you just call Brad and ask him out?” “

No, unless I want to sound desperate,” she said knowingly, as if full of wisdom. .

In a sense, she was. I had no idea about this stuff.

— Do you want to watch music videos later?”

— I have some reading to do.”

“You’ve been reading or doing homework all summer,” she said. “Your class is almost over. Relax.”

The University of Southern California wasn’t looking for “relaxed” students. According to Dad, summers were to “weed out the lazy people,” like my friends, who were probably at the beach.

— I will, in two days.

—Then we should do something this weekend. Something cheesy, like the Fun Zone in Balboa. Buying ice cream bars, like we did when we were kids.”

One thing with Tiffany, I could never predict what she was going to say next. Most of the time, she didn’t want me anywhere near her. her. Others, she would burst into my room, jump on my bed and talk about her day. She only had two speeds: bored big sister or best friend. I preferred the second… unless I was in studying for something important.

“Maybe,” I said.

With a roll of her eyes, she turned on the radio to “Runaway Train” and sang along all the way home. She s parked along the sidewalk of our cul-de-sac, near the neighboring lot where they were doing work.

One of the men in the hard hats whistled at us.

“Hey. Blondie.”

Tiffany looked out the window.

“What?” “

Come here for a second.

Why should I be surprised that Tiffany responded? If a man had eyes and they were pointed in her direction, she noticed him. It wouldn’t have meant much if it had only happened once in a while, but Tiffany was a California beauty through and through.

There’s been a lot of arguing about the build since it started earlier this summer. My Father didn’t like the noise, the dust, or the men who, he was sure, stared at my mother and sister. It hadn’t involved me, so I didn’t pay attention to it. But what if he had been so upset by the men staring at Tiffany, he certainly wouldn’t have wanted her to talk to them.

Tiffany tilted the rearview mirror, sweeping her bangs from side to side and forward again. She pursed his lips.

— do you have lipstick?”

I had boxes of Candy K****s l*p balm in my backpack, with flavors like cherry-vanilla, bubblegum, and my favorite, watermelon. I was entering my first year of high school, and I was still “too young” for makeup. Even if my friends wore them. Even though Tiffany had gotten that privilege the summer before her freshman year. I didn’t worry too much about those things, but I still protected my l*p balm a little. My pocket money was limited.

I dug through my pencil case until I found cherry vanilla and handed it to him. It was nothing to Tiffany, who dipped her finger in it, smeared a ton on her lips, slammed them together, and dumped it in my lap.

– THANKS .

She got out of the car, her Steve Madden platform shoes wobbling as she crossed the sidewalk onto the dirt court.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and went to interrupt his conversation with the construction worker.

“We’re not supposed to be here.”

“So why don’t you go inside?” she asked without looking at me. It wasn’t a suggestion.

The man looked down at his top.

“And leave you here alone?” I asked.

She had hiked up the waist of her black denim skirt dangerously. A short skirt and platform shoes don’t seem like the kind of thing one would wear on a construction site, but what do I know? Less than most sixteen year olds, Tiffany would say. Nineteen year olds, on the other hand, knew a lot about a lot of things. Especially about way of dressing with men.

— How long does it take to build a house?” she asked him, brushing aside her bangs.

Realizing her mistake, she did it again. Every morning she spent at least ten minutes in the bathroom plucking them out, shaping them into a casual curl.

– It depends. We’re pretty fast.” He laughed into his fist.

I looked behind us to see why. One of the workers had cocked a power drill in front of his crotch. It was spinning around as he shifted his h**s forward. back. It was stupid, but the other men at the construction site laughed.

I stroked the thin gold bracelet around my wrist, a birthday present from Dad. Tiffany and I didn’t always get along, but I didn’t want to leave her in a dangerous situation. These men were big and dirty. They made me nervous.

“I thought you were waiting for Brad to call.”

Tiffany opened her mouth, probably to tell me to leave, but she closed it.

“I have to go,” she told him, turning around.

“Hey, wait,” he called after us.

We walked up the brick and concrete driveway to the front door. My parents’ house wasn’t a mansion or anything but my classmates were speechless when they came over. With its palm trees, perfectly manicured lawn, and three-car garage, our two-story home fit right in in upscale Newport Beach. It curved gracefully at the end of the cul-de-sac and even had a swimming pool, although the beach was a ten-minute drive away.

“Why were you there?” I asked Tiffany.

He said to stay away but when did Tiffany listen to him? Or anyone else who knew better? If I talked about it, it would just start a war at the table.

– No.

“Good.” She unlocked the house. Problem solved.”

The next day, Tiffany completely forgot to pick me up. After an hour, I took my book bag and went home. It was hot outside, but summer was supposed to be hot, so it felt good. Living miles from the beach, we had breezes, and our neighborhood was safe by my father’s standards.

I could have gone home with my eyes closed. I grew up here, explored the nooks and crannies with friends who had come and gone, played baseball in the cul-de-sac, ran away to the Reynolds cabin when I was got a B- on a math test. But aside from all that, if my eyes had been closed, I would have known I was home by the telltale sounds of the construction site.

My heart rate picked up as I approached the field. At dinner the day before, mom asked me why my bracelet wasn’t on my wrist since I rarely took it off. The most likely explanation was that I lost it while fidgeting yesterday. Dad warned me it was expensive when he gave it to me.

I kept my eyes down, even though there was no reason for the men to notice me. Mom told me years ago that one day I would look like my big sister. That day had not yet arrived. My limbs were too lanky, my dishwater blond hair was not highlighted. I didn’t even have breasts. My mother had hers at 17 and assured me they would come.

Retracing my steps from where Tiffany had parked the day before to the dirt lot, I bent down at the waist and looked for traces of gold.

“Hey,” one of the men said.

His voice was so deep it gave me goosebumps inside, if that was possible.

“I found it. Here.”

Slowly, I turned around. The huge hand in front of me had dirt under its fingernails and my delicate gold chain was coiled in its deep valley.

“She looks valuable,” he said.

I squinted up and up and up at him. I only had two ideas about men : those my father’s age, like my teachers, and the boys I went to school with. This one didn’t fit into either category. He was taller than my father, taller, even, that our vice-principal, who was the tallest man I knew. I couldn’t see his eyes under his construction helmet, then I looked at the rest of his face. Black hairs almost hid the hump of his chin. His nose was strong and hard with a visible bump.

“That’s it,” I said.

He held it out. The sleeves of his charcoal gray t-shirt had been torn at the seams. His arms were like the weapons Dad displayed in his study – hard, defined, frighteningly powerful. The more my father warned me about the weapons he kept locked behind glass, the more I wanted to touch one to see what it felt like.

I didn’t move an inch, my heart beating harder.

—It’s okay,” he said, nodding his head. “It’s safe.”

I opened my hand. He poured the bracelet into it and I put it in my pocket.

He took off his safety helmet. He had wrapped and tied a red bandana around his head, but it didn’t seem to do much; he had a lot of thick black hair that was spilling out. He picked up his shirt and walked He wiped his temples, giving me a glimpse of his hard, wavy stomach and a handful of thin black hair. He dropped the hem immediately, but I looked away anyway. “Sorry,”

he said. said.

“Sorry for what?” I asked.

“If I made you uncomfortable.” He took off the bandana and used it on his face instead.

Dirt smeared across her olive skin. He was only making things worse. I could see his eyes better now, dark brown like soda, but against the sun there were lighter flecks, gold like the chain in my pocket.

My stomach tightened. I was uncomfortable, but him knowing only made it worse.

He took a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and slapped it against his palm.

“You should get the lock checked,” he said and walked away.

I made it all the way to the front door when I remembered I didn’t have my keys. house.

I imagined them on my desk, between my phone and a stack of Sassy magazines. I hadn’t even thought to pick them up this morning. Why would I? Tiffany was supposed to be with me. Even the door The backyard was closed. Dad had been very careful to secure the house since the work began.

I shuffled back down the driveway, sat down on the sidewalk, and took out my book. somehow I could feel the man looking at me. I wanted to look back. I liked his dark eyes and his scary look, but he had done something good for me. I read the

same paragraph three times and I still didn’t know what he was saying so I gave in and looked up. He was sitting on a brick wall that surrounded the field, his hand surrounding a lighter and lighting a cigarette between his lips. He wasn’t looking at me.

I realized what was bothering me. I hadn’t thanked him for returning the bracelet and that was rude. I closed my book and got up. This time he watched as I walked back towards him on the street.

“Thank you,” I said from the sidewalk.

“For?”

I put my book under one arm, took out the bracelet and showed it to him.

—You could have kept it. I wouldn’t have known.”

— What would I do with a woman’s jewelry?” he asked.

— Give it to your girlfriend.” I pretended to concentrate on putting the bracelet on so he wouldn’t see me blushing. The quieter

he stayed, the more uncomfortable I felt. I I had no idea how he took the comment. Unable to stop myself, I finally looked up at him.

“Or your mother. Or your sister.

” “If I had kept your bracelet, I would have put him at a porn store.

The heat rose in my chest, up to my cheeks. A porn store? If he hadn’t seen me blush before, he did now. I hadn’t never heard of a porn store. Well, I knew what porn was. The boys at my school bragged about watching it. My dad got Playboy in the mail. But what kind of stuff did a store sell?

“Did you get locked out?” he asked.

I took a step onto the field.

“My sister has the key.”

He nodded. I wasn’t sure what to do with him. Because he was older and taller, he seemed unapproachable, but I still wanted to talk to him. He took a drag from his cigarette.

“What are you reading?”

I gave up trying to put the bracelet on.

– Grapes of Wrath .

— The one with the farmers?”

— It’s about the Great Depression.”

— Why did you choose that?”

— Because it was next on the list.”

His brow furrowed.

— The list?”

I moved a little closer to him, holding my unlocked bracelet in place.

— Mandatory summer reading.”

He put out the cigarette he had just lit.

— Do you want to sit down?”

The wall was probably only waist high, but for me it was high enough that I wouldn’t make a fool of myself trying to get up.

— I’m going to stand.

— So this list… do you go in order, one by one?” he asked. “What if you want something different?”

“I guess I could try something else.”

“Don’t you like it?”

My mouth was dry just thinking about all the long descriptions – cross-country travel, drought, dust.

—There’s a lot…of information.”

—Let it go for a while. Try something else. Maybe something that’s not on the list.”

– I can’t. School starts in six weeks, and there are more books after this one.”

— You can always do like me and watch the movie.”

— I can’t do that.”

— Why not?

— It’s cheating.”

—Huh.”

The ends of his grease-stained jeans brushed the bottom of his worn boots. Where did they replace pants long enough for that many legs? His t-shirt must have been through the wash hundreds of times, it was faded to the point that I could barely make out a streak of rainbow.

I squinted to read it.

“What’s Pink Floyd?”

“What?”

He glanced at me, then looked down, holding out the fabric with one hand.

“It’s a group. Have you never heard of them?”

I shook my head as my cheeks heated up. I shouldn’t have asked. Tiffany knew all the latest bands, watched all the music videos, and I tried to keep up, but there were so many. Nirvana was the one Tiffany loved the most. Why couldn’t he have worn a Nirvana T-shirt? I knew most of their songs, having heard them through the wall quite often.

—I don’t listen to the radio much.”

—Me neither. There’s some pretty bad stuff in there.”

I smiled a little. Tiffany was into her CDs. Saying you don’t like music is admitting you’re not cool. Everyone had something to say about the latest album, an underground band, or the “song of the summer.”

“I play a little piano,” I said. “But I’ll probably stop.”

“How come?”

— I’m not very good. Anyway, my sister says piano is for geeks.”

He studied me for a few seconds, then nodded toward my parents’ house.

“Was that your sister yesterday?”

Of course he wanted to know about Tiffany. I should have realized sooner that she was the reason he spoke to me, but she didn’t. Even though I was pretty sure he was Tiffany’s age, he seemed more mature.

I nodded.

—Tiffany. She’ll probably go out with you.”

“Yeah? How do you know?”

“She goes out with a lot of guys.”

Her heavy black eyebrows fell.

— How do you know who she’s dating?”

— She told me.”

— What does she tell you?”

— About the people she likes and other things.”

— “You should stay out of your sister’s business.”

I lifted my chin. He spoke like my father, except when Dad said it, it was an order, not a suggestion. Dad said Tiffany’s things were disgusting, like I was going to dig them out of the trash.

“Look at that.” The cigarette fell from between his lips and he looked at my feet. “You dropped it again.”

I followed his eyes to where my bracelet had fallen in the dirt. I picked it up and tried to put it back again.

“Come over here,” he said. “Let me do.”

I breathed through my mouth.

“What?”

“The clasp,” he said.

My heart skipped a beat when he waved at me. I took a few hesitant steps and reached out, the chain dangling precariously. He moved the unlit cigarette from his mouth to behind his ear, then leaned forward and flipped my forearm. He could crush my wrist with one hand, I was sure of it. It took him several tries to get both ends through his enormous fingers. He squinted, muttering under his breath. His calloused palms brushed the thin skin of my wrist until goosebumps rose up my arm and my insides tightened. The tips slipped from between his fingers again and again.

His knee brushed against my ribs, and I flinched.

“Sorry,” he said.

I was sure that with a little more concentration I would have better luck with the bracelet than him, but I didn’t want to stop him. An unusual tingle made The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It’s not like I’ve never had a crush. Like my friends, I blushed when a senior greeted me in the hallway. I was giddy when someone like Corbin Swenson , the most popular boy in school, recognized our table in the cafeteria. But the boys at school were just that – boys. Tiffany liked to tear out pictures of celebrities and stick them on her wall – Andrew Keegan, Luke Perry, Kurt Cobain – and this man was as wall-worthy as he was sweaty and dusty and silent.

He grabbed me, his tan hand covering more than half my white forearm.

— Hold on calm.”

Men his age or size were never this close to me. I hadn’t moved, I was sure of it.

Eventually, he managed to connect the two pieces.

“How’s it?”

I shook my wrist to make sure the bracelet was secure.

“Good, I think.”

— Do you often walk home from school?”

— What?”

He nodded toward my backpack.

— Have you never walked?”

— Today was the first time.”

He tilted his head back, looking down at me.

“I probably shouldn’t walk home alone. Or not at all, perhaps. “It’s not far. I don’t have my license yet.”

He slammed the heel of his boot against the brick, looking anywhere but at me.

— But are you old enough?”

I almost asked him how old he gave me so I could add “and you?” at the end, but what if he had guessed too young? I suddenly regretted my t-shirt , in white cotton and with a high collar, with a round, yellow face of happiness in the center. I bought it at a record store, so it wasn’t really childish, unless, I realized, a child wore it. On Tiffany, it would have been cool, but I was flat-chested. Suddenly, a year seemed like an eternity waiting for breasts. “

I’m pretty old…” I said. He seemed to expect me to continue. “I’m sixteen, but I have to spend a certain amount of hours driving with my parents.”

Tiffany had a driver’s license and could take me, but she had gotten into two speeding tickets and a collision in the last year alone. My father would never allow him to teach me. I moved my feet.

— We started, but I haven’t had time lately.”

— You haven’t had time? Or have your parents?”

I wanted to answer but stopped myself. Dad usually worked until after seven. Mom must have been showing houses or attending a meeting. I had time now, but there were a hundred other things I needed to do, like reading the list, studying for exams, or volunteering.

— We all have things to do.”

— What keeps a 16-year-old so busy?”

— College Prep”,

— Are you going to school?”

— In the evening.”

— Oh. Like a community college?”

“Yeah.” He dropped his posture and laced his hands between his knees. “Are you sure you don’t want to come up here? This backpack is as big as you.”

I looked around, as if anyone could be watching me.

“I don’t think I can.”