chapter eleven

Four stitches. That was all it took.

In the car James looked at his hand. It had really started to hurt, especially when they put the stitches in, and it would be a few more minutes until the medicine started to work.

“Are you okay?’ Rebeka asked suddenly, pulling James out of his stare.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine; it’s just that my hand has started to hurt,” he replied. He noticed that he was getting just a little more comfortable around her, and for that he was happy. He stared out of the window. Everything looked beautiful. Everything had a silver lining. The medicine started to kick in which made his head feel a little weightless.

“Oh, I forgot to ask, where am I taking you?” she giggled, “Do I need to take you back to Mac’s? I guess you didn’t pay for your food. Or do you want me to take you someplace else?”

Drive around forever, he thought loudly. There was not a place he did or did not want to go with her.

“Um…I guess you can take me to my house. Janis and Mac both know I’ll be in there tomorrow, and I can just pay for it then.”

“Okay, where do you live?” she asked.

“Just past Plummet Road, on Owl Street.”

Plummet Road; the same road her mother died on. Her father hated that road, and just because he hated it she had always hated it too.

“Um…I know where that is; let’s take the long way to Owl Street,” she quickly solved that problem.

James was delighted. A whole three more minutes he could spend with her.

“Okay,” was all he could say.

Although the ride down Young Street did take more time to get to Owl Street, there was not much more to their conversation. They pulled up to the house and Rebeka left the car running. That was a bad sign. It meant that she didn’t want to come in. and that made him feel like she didn’t want to have much to do with his life. He decided to take a chance anyway.

“Do you wanna come in?” he asked timidly.

She reached for the keys and then stopped suddenly.

“No, I’d better not. I probably should be heading home,” she said staring blankly out of the windshield.

He nodded, got out of the car, and cautiously walked to her window.

Perhaps it was the medicine that had gone into full effect, perhaps it was just she, or perhaps it was any number of things which made him ask boldly,

“Meet me for lunch tomorrow.” It was more of a gentle command than a bold question.

She looked at him and she really was torn. She wanted to say yes. James was nice and he had a clumsiness that was endearing. He was sure of himself, but surprisingly humble.

“No, I can’t. James, I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m busy,” was what came out of her mouth rapidly. And with a look of apology and a surprising glance of fear she put the car in reverse and drove out. As she rode off leaving James in a cloud of dust she yelled, “I’ll see you around, James!”

James was bewildered and somewhat embarrassed. He thought he might have been too forward, but he knew that he didn’t come across rude, did he?

He looked at his hand and let out a hopeless sigh, and dragged his heavy heart inside with the rest of his befuddled body. James’s grandfather was sitting in his armchair. He walked over and sat down.