24Chapter 4
Vanessa:
"There's something wrong with my Dad," I said to Jess with another stroke of my paintbrush. We were in Dad's room, finishing a mural that we had been working on for a few weeks. There were only a few details that we had to fill in to complete our array of wizards, dragons, and other fantasy creatures that he still enjoyed. He always had his nose in some fantasy novel, usually a borrowed on of mine.
"All fathers have permanent brain damage," Jess replied with a smile. She was finishing the eyes on a golden dragon looming over a tower.
"I'm serious!"
She let out a sigh. If there was one thing she hated, it was taking things seriously. "What's the issue?"
"Every night, he wakes up and starts crying, usually for a few hours."
"It might be because of your mother. An aftershock or something."
Jess rinsed her paintbrush out, and then coated the bristles in red paint. I tried to concentrate on the details of the wizard's robe I was putting the finishing touches on, but my mind only wandered.
"Maybe," I said with little enthusiasm in my voice.
"You don't seem very into finishing the mural, Nessa."
"Just distracted." And it was the only thing I could think of doing besides pondering about Dad's sudden depression.
"Let's take a break and go down to the ice cream shop. Green Springs?"
Having ice cream two days in a row didn't sound too bad, and Green Springs was the only place Dad let Jess and I go by ourselves. It was only ten minutes away by foot, and it wasn't as "rowdy and dangerous" as other popular destinations for teenagers, such as the mall. "Sure," I said, and then raced her downstairs.
"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Dad asked as I opened the door in the kitchen. He was sitting at the table, sipping some coffee and reading the movie reviews in the newspaper. It was the same position he had assumed when I ate breakfast at 9:30 that morning. Now it was 1:00 in the afternoon.
"Green Springs."
"You have money, right?"
"Covered," Jess assured him as we rushed out the door, Dad calling to us.
"Be back in a half an hour, sharp!"
"I want to know why he's crying," I said for what must have been the twentieth time since Jess and I bought our ice creams. As I savored the delicious tastes of my mint chocolate chip ice cream at our picnic table of choice, Jess devoured her chocolate.
"Just drop it," Jess moaned as she mindlessly took the last few licks of her ice cream. "If you want to know so desperately, just ask."
"I don't want to just pry!"
She rolled her eyes at me, biting away at the cone. "You never make anything easy."
I was about to make another verbal joust in my defense before my eyes caught a handsome boy around my age, walking into line. His long, light brown hair jumped around when he walked, and his blue eyes caught the light of the sun just perfectly. He was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, the typical garb for boys, but the bright smile etched across his face was somewhat rare.
There was no mistaking it; it was Jerome, the boy who sat next to me in art camp last year, and the boy I had been crushing on since then. He was always smiling and giving a cheerful greeting to everyone who passed him, whether it be friends, adults, or even complete strangers. Jerome was also an amazing artist, able to sketch anything his eye could spy and make it look amazingly realistic. His artwork had been featured in numerous showcases, and I secretly admired all the drawings he worked on during our few weeks in camp together. We would chat as we worked, but awkward pauses always murdered the conversations. I always hoped that in one of those conversations, he'd ask me on a date, but the topic was one of the few that never came up.
Being one of those girls who changes her boyfriend as often as she changes her shirt, Jess considered herself my 24/7 dating service, and always pushed me to confront my dream guy. "You know you want to talk to him," she told me once she eyed what I had my sights on.
"Oh, no," I replied hastily, but Jess just stared at me, knowing it was a lie.
"Go on. He won't bite."
"Dad said I can't date until . . ."
I was about to say "college", but she cut in. "Forget about him for a moment and talk to Jerome." Jerome took his three-scoop vanilla ice cream from the cashier at the counter, and then seated himself at a picnic table near the garbage can. As he ate it, he stared off into space, lost in thought. "You have to go over there to throw out your cup anyway."
I shrugged, knowing that she was right. With baby steps, I made my way over to the trash barrel with her, trying not to make eye contact with Jerome, but every once in awhile, I'd sneak a look at him. One of the times, my eyes met his.
"Hey, Vanessa," he said, smiling at me. I smiled back, terrified that mine might allow him to sense how awkward I felt.
"Oh, hi," I replied with a nervous chuckle.
"What's up?" He seemed so casual, forcing me to be even more self-conscious.
"Nothing."
"You look so worked up," he noted, laughing. "I'm not gonna hurt you." He patted the space next to him on the bench. "Take a seat. Oh, and Jess, you can sit across from us if you want."
Jess gave me her told-you-so look as we took the seats Jerome assigned us. I placed my trash that I never got the chance to throw away on the table. Jerome took a few more licks of his ice cream before continuing our conversation. "Do you want me to buy you another one?"
"It's okay, but thanks."
"So, have you been working on any artwork since art camp last year?" he asked, and before long, we were engaged in a conversation about artists, art work, and why I wasn't going back to art camp that year. Of course I wanted to go; Dad just wouldn't let me.
Jess listened to us jabber on for what must have been at least twenty minutes. She stared at us with a dull expression, hinting that we should be heading home, but I pretended that she never gave me the slight nudge. Those twenty minutes with Jerome were the most exciting twenty minutes of my life, and I wanted to stay in that little fantasy island until I absolutely had to leave. Never had I been so involved in a conversation, and nothing was about to interrupt it.
Except for my cell phone ring tone, of course. The tune of Hey Jude echoed from my pocket, breaking off Jerome mid-sentence. "Sorry," I said, sliding my phone out from my pocket.
He didn't comment on the interruption. He did comment on the ring tone, though. "Beatles addict like me, are you?"
I nodded as I opened my phone. "Hello?"
"VANESSA, WHERE ARE YOU?"
It was obviously Dad; no one else got that concerned about my whereabouts. "Green Springs."
"STILL? What are you doing?"
"Just eating ice cream," I lied, aiming a sweet smile at Jerome.
"Get home quickly, okay? You've been out too long." His voice was filled with concern and on the borderline tears.
Afraid he might plunge into another meltdown like the night before, I replied, "I'll be home right away. See you then!"
"Okay."
I closed my phone, and as I stood up, shoved it back into my pocket. "I'm sorry, Jerome, but I have to go. My father's concerned."
"It's fine. I had a good time." I tossed my ice cream cup into the trash barrel behind us and waved goodbye, but before Jess and I could take another step, Jerome called out to me.
"Vanessa!"
"Yeah?" I asked, turning around.
"Give me your phone for a second."
My heart almost skipped a beat. I took out my phone and handed it to him, knowing exactly what he wanted to do: he was going to put his number in my phone. It barely seemed real that the guy that I always hoped would notice me in that special way actually wanted me to call him back. It felt like something you would watch in a teenage romance movie was coming to life, and it was happening to me of all people!
After saving his number into my phone with incredible speed, he handed it back to me. "Does that mean . . ."
"Call me later. We can meet up at some point." He gave me a wink that you would expect from a jolly old Santa Clause. I returned it as Jess and I walked away.
Once out of earshot, Jess turned to me. "That was quite a long conversation, Nessa."
"I know!" Even though Jess looked bored with the ordeal, my face was glistening with glee. The beginning of this summer felt like sitting in a roller coaster, anxiously waiting to experience all the ups and downs that were awaiting me on the long, winding tracks.
But even though I had just experienced an up, I was about to experience one of the downs of the roller coaster's track.