(no subject)

[bythethroatx]

TITLE: Objects of Affection

DATE: 06/18/05 - present

GENRE: drama

RATING: PG 13, borderline R

SUMMARY: It’s the little things that always matter. It’s the little things that help us remember. It’s the little things that she took with her whenever they parted. It’s the little things that fill the old hat box that sat in the dark corner of her closet. And now, years later, it’s the little things that tell the story of the love she held on to.

Author's Note: Influenced by real life events.



| Prologue / Introduction | | 1 |

+ Chapter 2: Toaster Ovens and Chick Flicks +

“Ooh, how about this one?”

“How about that one,” Veronica sighed, leaning up against a rack of items and closing her eyes. Her feet hurt, her legs ached, her hair was a mess, and she was so thirsty, she was thinking of going home and drinking from her pool, which had been covered since the end of summer and was algae filled, no doubt.

“You can never have too many dinner sets!” her aunt sang out, rushing towards them with the third set of dining ware they had possessed throughout the never ending shopping trip. These had blue flowers connected with green vines while the others had purple grapes and blue jays.

“What do you think she’d like, Ronnie?” Veronica’s mother asked, wandering over to the appliance section of the department store.

“George Forman grill?” Veronica suggested, dragging her feet behind her, the back of her legs too numb to even feel the heavy bags that she was carrying clashing against them. Her mother looked at her as with one of those I’m-serious-and-you-know-it looks parents give to their children so well and she sighed. “I don’t know, mother. I’m out of ideas.”

“Salt and pepper shakers! Look how cute they are!” her other aunt exclaimed, running over to them with a box. She shoved the box in Veronica’s face, forcing her to admire the cat and dog shaped shakers.

“Cute,” Veronica nodded. “How ‘bout an iron?”

“Ooh, I’ll look for that!” her Aunt Tracy, the one with the dining sets, said. “So smart,” she grinned, patting Veronica on the shoulder before running off. “And maybe a board, too!” she shouted back towards them and then disappeared.

“What size bed will they be sharing? Maybe I can get her a good comforter set or something,” the shaker possessing Aunt Margaret asked.

“I think Bradley has a queen that he’s taking from his parents’ house,” her mother told her, watching her nod and wander off in a different direction.

“When can we go home?” Veronica whined, following her mother over to the toaster ovens and staring blankly at one.

“I don’t know, sweetie. When we’re finished, I guess. We’ve got all day,” her mother said, turning her head to the side to examine one of the models in front of her. “Do you think she’d rather an actual oven that she can put something in and close the door, or do you think she would want slots to place them in and push the levers down?” she asked.

“She likes when things pop,” Veronica stated bluntly, looking away and deciding she couldn’t just stand around shopping for someone other than herself any longer. “I’m gonna go see if I can find something to wear to the shower,” she informed her mother before slipping away, not bothering to wait for an answer.

She found herself in the juniors clothing section a few minutes later. Julia hated clothes shopping. She hated the way teenage girls’ clothing was designed. If you weren’t under a size seven in most stores, you pretty much didn’t exist. But that made no sense to her because, in reality, if you wore a size zero, you basically had no existence. Period. Either way she looked at it, shopping for clothes pissed her off. Veronica, however, loved it. She loved buying new clothes, she loved trying things on, she loved spending the money and knowing she was buying something for herself.

Lips pursed together, she made her way in and out of the racks of clothing, stopping when something caught her eye. She really didn’t care what she wore to the shower. It was over a month away. What she was really looking for was something to wear to the movies later that night with Bobby.

That was the only thing she’d thought about since he’d written her that note. She’d played various versions of how the date would go down in her head and the suspense of finding out what would actually happen was killing her. Would they hold hands? Would they kiss? Would it be too soon to put her head on his shoulder? What would they talk about? Would he want to go somewhere afterwards, or was the date only the movie? What if there was a meaning to that? If they didn’t go somewhere afterwards, did that mean that he didn’t enjoy her company and asking her out had been a mistake? But if they did, where would they go? Would he ask her? What would she say? She hated making decisions, she’d rather be told what to do most of the time.

As she was leafing through a rack of stylish shirts, wondering what his favorite color was, her cell phone rang. Startled, she dropped the bags that were in her left hand, reached into her back pocket, and answered it.

“So, are you ready yet?”

“No, I’m still at the freakin’ store. Between my aunts and my mother, we might get out of here with one of every item in here,” Veronica responded, pulling a pink shirt out, examining it, and putting it back on the rack.

“Geeze, I expected you to be ready and waiting by now,” Julia said, clicking away at her keyboard at the same time. “You’re running out of time, ya know…”

“What time is it?” Veronica asked, spotting the perfect shirt at that very second. “And green or orange?” she asked, knowing Julia would make the right decision for her.

“It’s five… and green clothes do wonders for your eyes, you know that,” Julia said, causing Veronica to grin briefly. She loved how Julia knew exactly what she was talking about without her having to specify herself. She was so smart and their connection was so great. She loved it. She’d be lost without her and they both knew it. Her happiness halted to a quick stop when she replayed Julia’s answer in her head.

“Five?!” she shrieked, grabbing a shirt that was her size as quickly as she could and trying to control her sudden shot of nerves as she picked up the other bags around her feet.

“Five oh seven, to be exact,” Julia said, sending another IM in the background. “I would hurry up, if I were you, missy. You’ve got approximately -“

“Fifty three minutes. Shit shit shit,” Veronica began to panic, finding a check out station and throwing the shirt down. “I’ll call you later, I have to go find my mother and get my ass out of here,” she said quickly before hanging up, knowing Julia wouldn’t be mad at her for not allowing her to say goodbye.

The cashier behind the desk moved quickly, picking up on the fact that she was in a hurry, and she paid for the shirt and was rushing to find her mother less than three minutes later. Frantically, she searched the store, finding her mother and running towards her.

“We have to go home,” she said, her breath hard, her heart racing. Not because of the run she’d just made, but because of the nervousness coursing through her body. “Seriously, we need to go now,” she said, looking her mother straight in the eyes, hearing her aunts come up behind her.

“Why? What’s wrong?” her mother asked, walking towards a register, her aunts meeting them halfway.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just really need to get home. I’ve been here all day and I’m really tired and thirsty and I’m finding it hard to remember what color our house is,” she rattled, feeling her aunt’s grip on her shoulder.

“I think someone needs a nap,” she teased.

“Exactly. Nap time. Let’s go,” Veronica nodded, pointing towards the doors. Though they weren’t the set they’d come in through, it was the gesture she wanted them to acknowledge.

“Baby, are you sure everything’s alright?” her mother asked, placing the toaster oven and a few other pieces of kitchen ware on the counter and reaching into her purse for her wallet.

“I’m sure, just please, let’s go,” Veronica begged. The last thing she wanted to do was let on to the fact that she had a really big date with the most gorgeous guy in the world, especially in front of her aunts. They were the type of people that would coo and tease and tell everyone else in the family. She didn’t even know if things were even happening with Bobby, therefore she didn’t want them to find out anytime soon.

“What’s the rush? I wanted to check out the second floor,” her Aunt Margaret said, pointing towards the escalator that went up.

“Can we do that?” her mother asked, sliding her credit card through. “Would that be ok with you? I’m sure you could last for a few more minutes.”

Veronica’s eyes bulged and her heart stopped. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed. “No!” she said. “No, no, no. We have to leave and we have to leave now. I…” she drifted off, realizing she was acting like a child. A bitchy child, at that. She was never childish, nor bitchy, except for around her family. Sure, she liked to keep her thoughts, opinions, and emotions in around everyone else, but her family brought out another side to her. The side she didn’t want anyone else to see.

“You what?” her mother asked, turning around with her purchase in a bag and raising an eyebrow. She knew something was going on, otherwise she would’ve scolded her for her behavior. Even at the age of seventeen, she still yelled at her. Because, in her mother’s eyes, she needed to be thrown into line every now and then.

“I…” she started, knowing she’d regret telling them, but also knowing that she needed to do so. She was in too deep now. And they were on the shopping spree from hell. “I’m going to the movies tonight and I’m being picked up at six,” she said, quickly, leaving out the words ‘boy’ and ‘date’, hoping that would be enough information.

“Well, can’t it be pushed off until tomorrow?” Aunt Margaret suggested, not seeming to take in the importance of the girl’s pleas to leave. Aunt Margaret cared about one thing, and one thing only - herself. Normally nothing stood in her way of getting what she wanted. Except for…

“No, we can finish shopping tomorrow. We’ve done enough for today,” Veronica’s mother nodded, smiling at her daughter and starting towards the exit at which they were parked. Margaret didn’t argue. And Tracy followed behind, but not silently.

“So, who’re you going to the movies with?” she asked, falling into step with her niece.

If it had only been her and Tracy, she would’ve spilled her guts. Tracy was cool. She was younger than the others and she was a hairdresser. She’d done Veronica’s hair since she was a baby and she’d always been so easy to talk to. But since her mother and Margaret were around, she decided to keep it simple. “Just a friend,” she told her, hoping she’d stop there.

“Boy or girl?” Margaret butted in.

“Boy,” Veronica replied. Maybe that was the end…?

“Ooh, it’s a date!” Tracy exclaimed, throwing an arm around her. “Is he cute?”

“He’s beautiful,” Veronica breathed, sighing and laughing when Tracy giggled.

“Name?” her mother asked, holding the door open for her.

“Bobby.”

“He’s coming to the house?” she asked and Veronica nodded. “Ok, so we’ll get to meet him,” her mother said, her tone telling her that she was stating that sentence, not suggesting it.

“Sure…” Veronica said, quietly, hoping Tracy and Margaret were to be dropped off, even though that would allow her less time to get ready.

Luckily, her mother did drop them at their own houses. A small amount of stress lifted from Veronica’s shoulders as they drove away from Aunt Tracy’s apartment building, but her heart was still racing, her palms were still sweating, and her stomach was still turning. All the way home, she feared that she wouldn’t be ready on time. She feared that she would leave him waiting, that he’d get pissed off, and that he’d leave, completely canceling the date. Hopefully, he’d understand.

As they turned down her street, she was already unbuckling her seatbelt and gathering her things, her eyes on the clock. 5:48. She had approximately twelve minutes to throw herself together and manage to look somewhat presentable.

Or so she thought.

As they pulled into her driveway, an unfamiliar blue car pulled up in front of the house and parked behind her white one. Her heart stopped when she saw the driver’s door open and a tall brunette step out. She slid out of the car, her body tense, as he crossed the front lawn, walking with a sense of uncertainty.

“I’m a little early,” he apologized, watching her close the passenger side door and walk around to the trunk.

“That’s ok,” she said, her voice slightly shaky. “I’m running extremely late,” she added, opening the trunk and staring at the box in it. It was bigger than she thought it was. How on earth had her mother carried it out to the car? “Uhm… if you give me,” she paused, throwing her purse and bag over her shoulder and shoving her fingers under the box. She tried not to grunt, knowing that if she did, it would be embarrassing, as she attempted to lift the heavy box from the depths of the dark trunk, before she continued her sentence. “Ten minutes,” she huffed, struggling under the weight. “What the fuck kind of toaster is this?” she suddenly wondered aloud.

“Must be heavy duty,” he joked and she laughed, getting the joke immediately. The box was heavy… heavy duty… ha ha. “Here, gimme,” he offered, taking it from her with a little more ease.

“Thanks,” she smiled, shutting the trunk and walking up the path to her front porch. She held the door open for him, silently welcoming him into her home, and directed him towards the back closet, where they were storing all of her sister’s presents. She thanked him again and folded her hands together. “Well…” she started, thinking of what to do with him. “I can be ready in very little time if you just want to uhm… make yourself comfortable?” she suggested, trying not to get lost in his eyes so early in the evening.

“Take your time,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the living room where her younger brother sat, face so close to the TV, you’d think his nose was attached. “I like video games, I’ll watch him,” he said, turning back to her and smiling a smile that made her reach out and grab for the handle of the door they were standing next to.

“Ok… I won’t take too long,” she said, watching him take a seat on the couch, his back straight, one hand on each knee. He was nervous. Very nervous, she decided, as he drew in his bottom lip.

Looking down the hallway, she tried to pin point her mother. If she got ready fast enough, maybe he’d get lucky and they’d never have a run in. As quickly as she could, she threw the door open and hopped down the stairs to her secluded, basement bedroom. The next few minutes were a nervous blur as she tried her hardest to get ready quickly. Jeans, new shirt, shoes - check, check, check. Deciding she couldn’t spare too much time on her hair, she quickly pulled it up and let her ponytail hang loosely before she grabbed her purse, made sure money was in it, and ran back up the stairs. When she got to the top, she took a deep, somewhat shaky, breath. This was it. She was going on a date with Bobby Ringer.

“Ready, let’s go,” she announced as she shut the door behind her. She tried to hide a smile when he eagerly stood up from the couch and met her in the hallway. He wanted out almost as badly as she did. “Mom, I’m going!” she yelled, inching towards the door, hoping her mother would yell back a simple, ‘ok’ and that’d be the end of it.

No such luck.

“Ronnie?” her mom called out, appearing in the doorway to the kitchen with a vase of flowers in each hand. “Which ones do you think we should line the aisle with?” she asked her. “The white ones, or the burgundy ones?”

“Mother, we need to go or we’ll be late,” she urged, feeling the tension in Bobby’s body even though he was a few feet away. She needed to get him out of there. Her mother wasn’t freaky or completely protective and neither was her father, but just the fact that they were her parents and she could possibly start dating this boy was enough for her to want to keep him safe for a while.

“Just tell me what you think and then introduce me to your friend. I haven’t seen him before,” her mother said, holding up the vases. “White… or burgundy?” she asked, again.

Veronica sighed. “The wedding dress is white, the bridesmaids are burgundy. Do every other,” she said, more or less telling her to rather than suggesting it. “And this is Bobby, Bobby this is my mom. We need to go, goodbye.” And with that, she ushered Bobby out the door and down the front steps.

“Uhm..” he thought aloud as they approached his car and for a split second, he paused, but then rushed ahead, unlocked the doors, and opened the passenger one for her. “Don’t think I’m cheesy,” he pleaded, half joking, half serious.

“Don’t worry, I don’t,” she assured him with a small laugh before he shut the door and went around the car to his own side. After getting in, starting the engine, and making her wave to her mother, who stood in the doorway, they were off.

She watched as her street flew past her. He drove like she did; fast. Very fast. They were stopped at stop sign for less than a second when she let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. As they neared the top of a hill and came to a stop at a red light, she let her eyes roam the car. It was unbelievably neat for a guy’s car. Maybe he’d cleaned it so he didn’t come off as a pig. Maybe he was as nervous and excited for this date as she was. Thinking this made her smile. Maybe this would work out nicely.

“So…” he said when the light still hadn’t changed.

In the desperate attempt to avoid mental crickets, she decided she needed to speak. “I like your car,” she said, touching the dash as the light turned green. She felt her body get forced back into the seat as he hit the gas and laughed softly. “And the way you drive it,” she added.

“Am I going too fast? I’m sorry, do you want me to slow down?” he automatically asked, looking at her twice between glances at the road.

“No, no,” she giggled, allowing herself to relax, figuring at least one of them needed to. And it obviously wasn’t going to be him. “I’m used to this, it’s alright.”

“You sure?” he asked, and she could see his foot ease toward the break.

“I’m positive,” she said, looking at him as he drove. He stole a glance at her and his concerned, somewhat paranoid exterior melted away into the gorgeous smile she was slowly growing attached to. As she forced her eyes away from him, not wanting to make him think she had a staring problem of any kind, she caught sight of something shiny in the area under the radio. “Ooh, what’s this?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t mind her slightly nosy habit. When she saw something she liked, she tended to grab it to get a closer look.

He looked quickly at the object in her hand as he took a bend at lightning speed. “My cologne,” he told her, placing his eyes back on the road, but watching her out of the corner of his eye as best he could.

“It’s so tiny,” she said, holding the six inch bottle in the palm of her hand.

“Travel size,” he shrugged. “Just in case I’m running late in the morning or something.”

Nodding, she took off the cap and sniffed it. “Oh my god,” she breathed, taking another breath and enjoying the sensation that went through her body. “This smells sooo good! You smell so good!” she laughed, placing the cap back on and putting back in its assigned spot.

“It’s how I get the ladies,” he laughed, sneaking a peak at her as she rolled her eyes. “Kidding,” he added, watching her smile. Finally, he felt the tension begin to thin out. He allowed himself to slouch a little further down in his seat as he merged into the right lane and decided that he, too, could lead a conversation. “Did you go to the game last night?” he asked, hoping she hadn’t. He hadn’t played that well and the coach had pulled him out halfway through the third quarter.

“Nope,” she replied, watching a red car whiz by. “I had to work. Did we win?”

“Yeah, actually. We started out real bad.. like, Coach was flipping in the locker room during half. But we came back and kicked the shit out of them fourth quarter,” he said, leaving out the part about him being pulled out, screamed at, embarrassed, and having to sit the bench for that fourth quarter. She wasn’t there, she didn’t need to know. It wasn’t something he was proud of. So before any other questions were asked, he pulled into the parking lot to the mall and asked one of his own. “Where do you work?”

“You know that diner on Hoddle Ave?” she asked, unsure of whether or not he’d ever been there. Not many people her age knew of it. It was mostly used by truckers and the local people.

“I think I’ve driven past it a few times..” he said, trying to picture the building as he parked in a spot out front of the theatre attached to the mall.

“I waitress there,” she told him as he killed the engine. She reached down for her purse on the floor and continued as they got out of the car. “It’s kind of small, just a few booths, two or three tables and chairs, and then the counter. But there’s only a few employees so the tips are good and the company is enjoyable. So it’s not that bad,” she finished, looking both ways with him as they crossed the lot to the theatre. “Do you work?”

“I will once the season’s over. It’s too hard to find a job that can only be worked Sundays. My dad does the whole ‘allowance’ deal so that’s where I get my money for now,” he told her, holding open the door for her and following her inside. “What do we wanna see?” he asked, staring up at the board in front of them.

“Uhm.. doesn’t really matter to me,” she shrugged, reading the board with him. Romance? Nah, she didn’t want any pressure on the first date. Plus, it might make her crave attention and she didn’t want to be pushy already. Comedy? Laughter’s good. Action? She wasn’t really in the mood to see things blow up and cars fly in ten thousand different directions. Plus, guns scared her.

“Hm…” Bobby thought aloud, placing his finger on his lips and looking her up and down, pretending to ponder deeply. “You look like a chick flick type of gal,” he observed and she laughed slightly. She did enjoy a good chick flick, but she would never force that on him right then. “Am I right?” he asked. She nodded, unsure of whether that was something to be proud of or not. “You wouldn’t make me sit through one tonight, would you?” he asked, hope in his voice. She shook her head this time. “Thank god,” he said, looking up at the ceiling as she laughed. “You like to laugh,” he pointed out and she tried to hide her smile. “And smile,” he added, smiling himself as she put a hand over her mouth in a stronger attempt to hide from his vocal observations. “You have a pretty smile, don’t hide it,” he said softly, knocking her arm down and grinning, himself. “Laughter equals comedy. That ok?”

“Sounds good,” she said, not bothering to fight the smile she knew was breaking on her face. He nodded and she followed him up to the ticket window, hand in her purse as she opened her wallet, instinct kicking in. She was somewhere that required money, therefore she felt the need to get money out.

“Two, please,” he told the teller and slid him a twenty dollar bill under the window. When he got the tickets, he handed one to her and they headed down the dark hallway to the theatre the movie was showing in.

“You know I could’ve paid,” she said softly as they reached the door. Again, he held it open for her.

He shook his head. “My treat. After all, I asked you,” he told her, winking at her, silently signaling to her that he was in his comfort mode. His nervousness was gone. She smiled, yet again, as she followed him down the darkening aisle. She liked that he was comfortable so quickly with her. Now all she had to do was get herself to relax, again.

But this, she soon realized, was a very difficult task. The lights faded until they were completely out and the giant screen in front of them was the only light in the theatre. People filed in around them as the previews began to roll and she slid down slightly in her seat.

“You hungry?” he whispered to her when a preview for an upcoming release came on.

“Not really…” she said, but deep down inside the depths of her empty stomach, she knew she was starving. With him already being at her house when she’d gotten home earlier, she hadn’t had time to shove anything down her throat. She hoped her answer would still be enough to get him to buy some type of food.

“If I bought something, would you eat some?” he asked, sitting up straighter and looking at her. She nodded. “Alright, then I’ll be right back,” he told her, climbing over her and disappearing.

And there she sat. Palms slightly sweaty, legs pressed close together, shoulders tense. She didn’t know what to do. Everyone else she’d ever dated had been friends first. She was comfortable with them from the start. And if they touched her, it was no big deal. This though, this was a big deal. She didn’t know what to expect. He was sweet, he seemed gentle, but would he take her hand? Did he want to hold her hand? If he did, and he reached for it, would he pull away when he found that they were clammy? Would that disgust him? What if he decided he didn’t want to date her just because she broke into cold, nervous sweats occasionally? Would he really be that shallow or picky, though? Right then it occurred to her that she truly was on a date with a perfect stranger. She knew close to nothing about him. And that, in turn, pushed her back a step away from the comfort zone she longed to find herself in.

He returned to break her free from her thoughts just as the movie was starting and luckily for her, he wasn’t empty handed. Popcorn and gummy bears accompanied his arrival, along with two bottles of water. He sat, placed a bottle of water in a cup holder on either side of him, positioned the popcorn comfortably in his lap, and then handed her the bag of gummy bears.

“If you want any of this, lemme know,” he whispered to her, gesturing towards the popcorn and then turning his attention towards the screen.

Throughout the first half of the movie, she found herself fiddling with the bag of candy in her hands that still remained unopened. She was unsure of whether or not she wanted to eat in front of him yet. Obviously he was having no trouble shoving food in his mouth in front of her, but it was different for her. She hated eating around new people. She was afraid that he was going to stare or pick out something weird in her eating habits. Deciding she had to take her chances and convincing herself that he couldn’t possibly be that weird, she tore open the bag and popped a bear into her mouth.

Her attention no longer fell on the movie in front of her. For the next hour, she was focused on herself and the boy next to her. And everything in between.

She wiped her hand on her jeans before pouring a few gummies into her hand and holding it out to him. Without looking away from the screen, and in mid laughter from a joke that was made, he reached to his right and made a grab for the candy being offered. He reached around, the tips of his fingers brushing against her tender palms, and she found herself wondering if he knew the jolts of electricity he was sending through her entire body from those simple, careless touches. Finding the candy, he took her hand as he took hold of them, and though it was only for a second, her heart stopped. As fast as it stopped when he took hold of it, it stopped twice as suddenly when he let go.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, quickly looking at her. In the blue lighting of the movie, she caught his cheeks flush and a bashful look appear on his face as he hung his head for a second to pop in the candy. She only hoped he didn’t see the disappointed look she was trying to hide on her own.

The last twenty minutes of the movie seemed to drag on. They were done with their waters, done with their food, and were simply staring at the screen in front of them. They laughed when a joke was made and shifted uncomfortably when the characters in the movie kissed. Every accidental touch was documented in Veronica’s head. They brushed legs four times, arms three, and his pinky hit hers once before the credits began to roll. She wondered if they were accidental or if, though the chances seemed slim, if they had been purposely. Maybe he wanted to touch her? If he did, what was stopping him? Was she coming off as closed up? Did it seem like she didn’t enjoy his company? She hoped not. Even if she wasn’t having the romantic date she’d imagined, she still was happy to be out with him.

“It’s about nine,” he announced as they exited the theatre and stepped out into the cool, October night air. “Does that signal the end of the night?” he asked, leaning against the building and watching her take a deep breath in. He needed to get her to relax. He knew he did. He knew she liked him. He needed to show her a good time. But only if she wanted him to.

“I hope not,” she said, averting her eyes to the sidewalk and hoping she didn’t sound too desperate or eager. She didn’t want to call it a night. She wanted to spend the last two remaining hours until curfew hit with him. She wanted to have a good time. She just needed to loosen up. When she looked up at him, a smile was just sliding off his face, but in a good way. As in, she caught the end of it.

“Wanna go in the mall? I’m sure there’s something amusing in there,” he suggested, already heading for the entrance.

“Sure,” she agreed, loving that he held the door open for her for the third time that night. The boy had good habits. When her mother asked her how it went later on, she’d definitely have to add that in. And then she’d have to assure her that no physical contact was made and no sex was had. And oddly enough, she wouldn’t be lying on either account, either. Which slightly disappointed her. Not saying she wanted to have sex with this boy, but she wished something would happen. A hand hold, a half hug, even a really off target kiss would be nice. Because then she’d at least know that he was interested, too.

In the mall, they wandered around, pointing things out, making jokes about them, and about twenty minutes in, she was finally in the right state of mind. She’d relaxed to the point she’d been in the car on the way up. She knew she wouldn’t get anywhere if she stayed tense and quiet, therefore she forced herself out of her shell and he was finally seeing what he hoped was the real her. She was laughing, she was sharing her opinions, she wasn’t afraid to disagree with him. She had a mind of her own and she wasn’t afraid to use it.

“You know what?” she asked as they passed a soft pretzel stand. She reached out and grabbed his sleeve, stopping suddenly and causing him to fall backwards somewhat. “I’m sorry, but I’m really hungry,” she said, biting her lip and secretly hoping he wouldn’t think she was fat.

“Good timing, my stomach was just starting to talk to me again,” he said. “Hand out of the purse!” he yelled at her, pretending to be frustrated with her, as he grabbed her arm and yanked it out of her open purse. “Jesus, woman! How many times must I tell you? I asked you out, therefore I’m the man and I pay!”

“What is this? An ego boost? I can pay for my own damn food, thankyouverymuch,” she said quickly, turning her back to him, pulling out her wallet, and attempting to walk up to the line at the pretzel stand.

“Ooh, attitude,” he laughed. “But I think not,” he said, cutting in front of her and using his butt to keep her behind him. “No!” he laughed as she rolled off him and jumped in front. “Please let me pay for you,” he pouted, trying to force a sad face on her.

“Well, since you asked nicely,” she smiled, stepping aside and allowing him to approach the counter. “Cinnamon and sugar,” she said, standing closely behind him and watching him get out his wallet. She peered over his shoulder, unable to help being slightly nosy, as he pulled money out. He had picture flaps in his wallet, but there were no pictures in it. Which could prove to be a good thing, she thought.

“Go grab a bench,” he told her, looking around and pointing one out in the middle of the mall. “I’ll be there in a second,” he assured her, watching her walk away, the bounce in her step making him smile. She was cute when she was happy. Maybe this would work out…

She watched from the bench as he made his way over to her, pretzel in each hand, but her brow furrowed when he was suddenly bombarded by a very large group of people. People from school, the friends she saw him with occasionally.

“Ringer! Dude! You didn’t answer your phone, man. What’s up with that?” a taller boy in a baseball cap said, smacking his back.

“I turned it off, man. I’m busy,” he said, trying to get through the group, looking nervously her way. She bit her lip, wondering if the reason his cheeks were slowly growing a light shade of pink was because he was ashamed of what he was busy with, but at the same time enjoying the fact that he was polite enough to shut his phone off so that they weren’t interrupted at any point. She hadn’t even done that. But no one called her but Julia and her mother, and they both knew where she was and that she didn’t want to be annoyed.

“Ooh, for me?” a girl wearing tight jeans and a very low top asked after she’d weaved her way through the group of guys. Veronica watched as she made a grab for the second pretzel, but Bobby pulled it away. “What’s this? You used to always surprise me with food, B,” she pouted, stepping closer to him as the others looked away as if they were trained to do so.

“’Used to’ being the key words there,” Veronica heard Bobby mumble. And obviously, by the snickers around them, she wasn’t the only one to hear it. She pulled her legs up on the bench so that they were crossed beneath her and placed her purse in her lap as she watched the only girl in the group of guys press her large chest against Bobby, who stood still, looking over her shoulder at Veronica, who could’ve had UNCOMFORTABLE stamped across her forehead at that point. “You guys should get going, I’ll just see you later,” he told them, nodding towards a few as they took their cue and began to walk away.

“I’ll call you later, B!” the girl told him, running her fingers through his hair quickly before running - in her heels - to catch up with the others.

Seemingly shuddering her touch off with disgust, he held the pretzel out to Veronica and took a seat next to her. “One of those people you hope you never see unless you have to,” he told her, breaking off a piece of pretzel and shoving it into his mouth, chewing somewhat vigorously.

“Friends?” she asked, taking a small bite of her own, willing the awkwardness she felt coursing her veins to go away and hoping the sugar she was putting into her body would help it.

“Some of them,” he replied. “Missy, though… ugh. She’s not a friend. She’s a mistake,” he told her, looking at her as he spoke, hoping she understood that Missy was absolutely no threat. “She took me for absolutely all that I had. Took the only thing I could rightfully say was mine. And then cheated on me,” he told her, watching her green eyes grow big and somewhat sad, but showing the right amount of concern and compassion, along with a little bit of what looked like anger. “I can’t stand her. If she wasn’t in some of my classes, I think I’d never talk to her ever again. She’s a slut,” he told her, shaking his head and taking another bite of his food.

“She sounds like one,” Veronica said, breaking off a piece of hers and holding it out to him. “Want some?” she asked. He opened his mouth and she laughed before dropping it in, suddenly feeling ten times better than she had a minute or so before.

“You like to share,” he pointed out.

“Eh, certain things,” she said, shrugging and taking a bigger bite of her pretzel. “This is really good,” she grinned, licking her fingers clean, finding herself not caring about the thoughts running through his head at that particular moment. Though, knowing the little she knew about him, she didn’t think they’d be anything perverse.

“Soon as we finish these, we should probably get going,” he told her, glancing at his watch. “The mall closes in ten,” he said, looking around them. “And it’s pretty much dead, anyway. The only people left are those assholes,” he said, pointing at his friends, who were entering the main department store. “They’re going to jump on the beds until they get kicked out. I can guarantee it,” he told her.

“I haven’t jumped on a bed in a real long time,” she said, finishing her food, wiping her hands on the napkin she had, and standing to throw it out. “I used to have a trampoline, though. It had to be one of the coolest things in the world. Hopping on it at night was like, magical, almost. Jumping closer and closer to the stars,” she explained as they exited the building and walked the sidewalk down towards the area they were parked at. “I love being under the stars,” she told him, gazing up at them as they stepped down into the lot.

Or at least, as she stepped down.

She was quickly pulled back up, however, as a vehicle flew past them, horn blaring. Eyes wide, she turned in Bobby’s arms and simply stared at him.

“I think I just saved your life,” he smiled, looking down at her, shock still apparent. “You alright?” he asked, pulling her closer to him and laughing as she shook her head as if she were in a trance. “You sure?” he laughed, giving her a small squeeze to pull her out of her zone.

“Whoa,” she said, looking down into the street as realization set in. She was almost just run over by a very large, very fast truck. “Maybe you shouldn’t date me. It might be dangerous,” she said, looking up at him and trying not to think about the fact that she was in his arms and he was holding her close to him. She did, however, take in how safe she felt. How protected and secure she felt at that moment. She felt as if nothing would physically harm her. Not with him around. It was a good feeling, she decided.

“Even if it is dangerous,” he started, hesitating, unsure of whether he should say what as on the tip of his tongue. Deciding it couldn’t do any harm - unless he was shot down - he went ahead, “it’s a risk I’m willing to take.” When another smile spread across her face, he knew he’d said the right thing and the knot in his stomach slowly faded, allowing the butterflies to fly freely. It felt good having a nice girl in his arms. A girl that was not only pretty and at times, adorable, but a girl that was smart and funny. A girl that he didn’t think would use him and hurt him. He was finally looking in the right places, he figured.

“Yeah?” she asked, tipping her head a little farther back to get a good look at him. How was this happening?

“Yeah,” he said, his voice soft, his muscles relaxed against her. Slowly, under the stars, on the sidewalk in the mall parking lot, his face came closer to hers. And just as both sets of eyes were about to shut…

“Yeah, Riiingerrr!!!”

“Ya know…” he sighed, hanging his head and letting go of his hold on her as his friends’ cars screeched through the lot. “I need new friends,” he laughed, shoving his fingers through his hair and stepping down onto the black top. “No cars in sight, you’re safe,” he teased, nodding towards the car and waiting for her to fall into step with him.

The ride home was filled with so many things the ride up wasn’t. It was filled with music, it was filled with poor singing. It was filled with jokes and real, unforced laughter. It was filled with the story of him being pulled out of the game the night before, it was filled with what the Coach had screamed in his face. Those words were harsh and embarrassing when he’d first been hit with them, but sharing the experience with her and seeing her jaw drop and hearing her laugh when he told her the names he was called made it seem not so bad. It was more amusing now, he decided. But other than those things, the ride home was filled with comfort. And that was what they were both aiming for all night.

When he pulled up out front of her house, she sighed, half happily, half sadly, and unbuckled herself. She gathered her purse and reached for the handle, but was stopped when something fell into her lap.

“Put your number in there?” he asked as she picked up the cell phone, inspecting its transparent blue faceplate before flipping it open.

“Sure,” she shrugged, putting her own cell in before handing it back to him.

“Cool, thanks,” he smiled happily and shoved it back in his pocket before climbing out of the car. He walked her up her walk and onto her porch, where she stood a step above him. “Did you have fun tonight?” he asked her, looking dead on into her eyes now that she was at the right height.

“Yeah, I did,” she said, nodding and smiling, her eyes shifting slightly back and forth.

“Good, so did I,” he assured her, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground. “I’ll uhm… I’ll give you a call a little later?” he asked, hoping permission was granted. She nodded and he smiled. “Alright, then. I’ll talk to you in a little,” he said, turning and starting to walk back down the walk.

She waited until he got in his car, waved, and pulled away before she let herself into the house and immediately ran downstairs to her room, where she kicked off her shoes, put her movie stub on her dresser next to the yes or no note, and immediately dialed Julia’s number. The next hour flew by as she spilled every detail and every feeling she could remember about the night. Julia reacted the way she knew she would. She giggled, she teased, and she was happy for her. When they hung up, she’d already changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth. Her heart was racing as she climbed into bed and covered herself. She placed her cell next to her head on the pillow and even though her mind was racing with doubts and hopes of him calling, she managed to fall asleep.

She was jolted awake an hour later by the shrill ring of her phone, but that was ok. Because she’d never been so happy to hear it in her life.

Veronica sighed, setting the movie stub down in the lid of the hat box next to the note before moving in for the next item on the top. But a tiny whine stopped her.

“Hungry,” the little girl in her lap pouted, looking up at her mother and hoping she’d get her food.

“Alright,” her mother laughed, helping her out of her lap and following the toddling girl to their kitchen. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich was made and a banana was cut up and placed beside it a few minutes later. She placed her daughter in her booster seat and sat down across from her, picking at the banana slices as the little girl ate.

She caught herself glancing down the hall to her bedroom every so often, longing to go back in and see what else was in that box. Everything brought back so much. Every item filled her with so much emotion. Her past, though at some point or another had been filled with regrets, wasn’t really all that bad. She had a lot of good memories she’d been shutting out.

Looking back at the child, she laughed and reached for a napkin to wipe her face off with. She was so young, so innocent. She wondered if she was understanding a word of what she was telling her. She wondered if she grasped the concept of the relationship between the things she was pulling out of the box. She wondered if she knew they all meant something. Probably not. She was probably just considering the time they were spending together as extra story time. But she was being patient and appeared to be listening intently, so whether she was understanding anything or not, she was still the perfect audience.

As she glanced back at Abby, she noticed her rubbing her eyes and a tiny yawn escaped her little mouth. “I think it’s someone’s nap time,” Veronica announced, taking the plate from the table, washing it, wetting a washcloth, and cleaning the little girl’s mess up. “Is Abby tired?” she asked her, picking her up when she reached for her. The little girl nodded, pressing her face into her mother’s shoulder.

Rubbing her back, Veronica walked her into her room and shut the door, knowing that in a few minutes, she’d be back in her own bedroom, bringing the past to life once again.

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