Read Just a Little Series (Part 1) Page 11

I sat on the porch step for the third consecutive hour and let the rain fall on my face. I wondered how much longer I’d have to stay out in the dark, wallowing in my own self-pity. At what point could I just give up the pretense and sneak back in the house?

  The sun had set, and all that was left of the day was the faint drizzle of rain as it dropped from the night sky.

  “Julie,” a familiar voice said quietly, “what are you doing out here in the dark?”

  I glanced up to the sidewalk to see our newest neighbor standing at the edge of the pavement with a leashed dog in hand. The white, slightly damp German shepherd licked Derek’s hand as he took a step closer.

  “I guess you’re not afraid of a little rain,” he observed, watching as beads of water dripped off the ends of my hair. I could only imagine that I looked like death—my face was soaked from the rainfall, and there were probably plenty of mascara trails left over from the tears I’d cried since leaving the house.

  Derek took a seat next to me on the bottom step, and the dog rested in a puddle at his owner’s feet. “Everything okay?”

  I nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  “I don’t know,” he said, his voice laced with skepticism, “Looks to me like someone needs to talk.”

  I gave him a half-hearted grin and shrugged.

  It was nice that he offered, but the only person I’d ever trust with my feelings for Luke was Matt, and even he had been a worthless confidant since Hannah had come along. Deciding that it was probably a terrible idea to unload my problems on a perfect stranger, I bit my tongue and shrugged. My silence didn’t last long; before I knew it, I found myself looking up to meet his stare.

  “My uncle has a houseful of guests,” I said. “There’s just a lot going on in there.”

  “And you feel left out?”

  “No,” I said, honestly,“just in the way, I guess.”

  He nodded, but he was still skeptical. I could see it in his eyes that he wanted me to talk to him; he seemed to actually care what was on my mind. But I didn’t feel much like sharing, so I tried to find a way to pull the focus off of me.

  “So,” I nodded uncomfortably, “how do you like Oakland so far?”

  He smirked and met my gaze, sparking a bout of wonderment between the two of us. “No complaints.”

  “Good,” I said, unable to tear my eyes away from his. Again, I couldn’t help but wonder why I recognized him. “Okay, I have to ask, why do you look so familiar?” I hoped that my question wouldn’t take him off guard. I was only curious if I was as familiar to him as he was to me. “I swear I must know you from somewhere.”

  He didn’t seem taken aback by my inquiry, only intrigued.

  “Maybe we knew each other in another life,” he said as if he truly believed it.

  “Yeah,” I said, half-smiling, “maybe.”

  “Hey,” he looked down at his sleeping dog to avoid my gaze. His voice sounded a little shaky, so I could only assume that he was suddenly nervous about something. “I know I shouldn’t even ask this, I’m kicking myself for bringing it up already, especially considering you’re as young as my kid sister, but I was curious if maybe you’d like to go out sometime?”

  “Oh.”

  “Just for dinner, or maybe a movie, nothing too formal,” he assured me. “It’s just a new town. It’d be nice to have someone to hang out with.”

  My cheeks flushed with warmth, and while I took a moment to contemplate what he was really asking me, I shook my head.

  “Thanks, but I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

  “Why?” he smiled a little too innocently. “You enjoy our conversations, right?”

  “I do.”

  “And I’ve been told I have a pretty charming smile.”

  “You do,” I said, silently agreeing that there was a definite charm in the way his eyes gleamed when he smiled.

  “Then what is it?” he asked, but it was only a light-hearted tease. I didn’t feel the slightest bit pressured by his questions. Honestly, I liked Derek. He seemed genuine; he was sweet, honest, and seemed to really care about connecting with people on a deeper level. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “No, no boyfriend.”

  “Is it me?” he pulled his lip back into a cute smirk. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

  I tried not to smile, but the goofy grin on his face made it next to impossible.

  “It’s not you,” I promised, almost laughing. But then my mood suddenly changed, and nothing really felt so light-hearted anymore. “It’s a long story. It’s complicated. It’s—”

  “Julie,” another voice interrupted me, only this one came from behind. I turned to find Luke standing on the front porch, looking down on me and Derek. I stood up, smiled, and straightened the wrinkles from my wet dress.

  “Luke,” I whispered, taking a step.

  Derek let out a slight chuckle and stood up, waking his groggy pet.

  “It’s Luke,” he said to me with a wink. “Gotcha. That’s all you had to say.”

  “What?” I turned back to Derek. “Oh, no, it’s not… I just—”

  “It’s cool,” he said, never losing his smile. “Really… I should’ve known.” He nodded toward the dog. “I’ve gotta get this big guy home. So, I’ll see you around, I guess?”

  “Yeah,” I watched him walk away. I turned back to Luke and bit my lip, unsure of what to say.

  “You guys having fun in there?” I asked after a few quiet seconds.

  “What was that all about?” Luke kept his eyes fixed on Derek. After my neighbor disappeared into his own house, Luke motioned for me to come closer, so I took the next two steps and joined him on the porch. He slid in close to my body and lifted his hand to my face to wipe away the black make-up with his thumb; he smeared the excess onto his jeans. I noticed immediately that while he moved with purpose, his movements seemed far too clumsy and out of his controlled nature.

  “Derek was just asking if I’d want to go out sometime,” I looked at my feet.

  Luke watched and waited for me to elaborate, but when I didn’t say anything else, he leaned a little closer. “And you said?”

  “No.”

  “Because it would be irresponsible.”

  “It would?”

  “Of course,” he shook his head. “He’s too old for you, kid. And you know nothing about him. You don’t need to waste your time with other men right now, anyway. You need to focus on school and your senior project.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded, “my project.”

  “And me.”

  “You?”

  “Because of the assignment.”

  “Right.”

  Our eyes locked, and for the second time that week, his face inched closer to mine. But I didn’t let my hormones get the best of me; based on my experience with Luke, I knew that his closeness was only a ruse. What I didn’t know was what he was up to. All I could do was stand there and wonder what in the world he planned to whisper sweetly in my ear before turning to run away. As he got closer, his nose brushed mine, and our foreheads rested against one another.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, the warmth of his breath dancing across my face. I detected the strong scent of alcohol almost immediately, and I took a moment to remind myself that anything he did or said in that moment was completely compromised by a vast amount of liquid courage.

  “Why are you sorry?” I heard my voice tremble.

  “Because I know,” he said, almost whispering. “I know how much it hurts, Julie. And I’m sorry you have to go through this alone.”

  “Go through what?”

  “Loving me,” he said without shame. “Needing me. Wanting me.”

  “I don’t love you, Luke,” I almost laughed. I didn’t know if my words even mattered, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he had the upper hand, not when he continued to turn a blind eye to everything I’d put forward.

  “What?” he scrunched his brow as if he didn’t quite unders
tand.

  “I don’t love you.”

  “Well, I do,” he wrapped his arms around me. “I do, Julie.”

  “You love you?” I teased. “Believe me, Luke; I already knew that, hon—”

  “No, no, no, no, no,” he covered my lips with a single finger, “I meant you.”

  I suddenly felt my stomach churn in knots. I looked into his dark eyes as they shined back at me with hazy uncertainty. I reminded myself for a second time not to fall victim; Luke wasn’t necessarily in his right mind. I had to take everything he said with a grain of salt. But even still… he loved me?

  “Why don’t you love me, Julie?” he whispered. “Have I done something wrong?”

  I restrained a small laugh and shook my head.

  “Luke, you treat me like a child.”

  “You act like a child.”

  “You only acknowledge me when it suits you.”

  “Chief would kill me if he knew how I felt—”

  “And you’re so damn stubborn. I never know what you’re thinking—”

  “I’m telling you now.”

  “Because you’re drunk, Luke,” I said, “and I can’t know that anything you’re saying has a shred of validity to it.”

  “It does, Jules,” he stroked my cheek with his thumb. His words slurred more and more as he stood there holding me. “I promise, kid. It does. I’m crazy about you.”

  And just as he managed to stumble through his last sentence, an Oakland taxi cab pulled up to the curb.

  “Look,” I said, nodding at the car. “I think your ride’s here.”

  “Please don’t make me leave like this,” he cupped my face in his palms. “Tell me you’re lying, Jules. Tell me you love me.”

  “Luke,” I pulled out of his grip, “come on.”

  I managed to help him as he stumbled down the sidewalk, and then I saw that he was settled safely in the back of the cab. When I shut the door and walked back to the porch, Luke rolled down his window and called out, “You’re lying, Julie Little. You—love—me, and you know you do.”

  “Good night, Luke,” I said with a short wave. “I’ll see you Monday morning.” As his cab pulled away, I sank back on the step and closed my eyes, hating myself for lying to him.

  

  “Up!”

  The blankets flew off the bed, and I rolled over to find Luke standing over me, glaring down as though I’d done something wrong.

  I wasn’t nearly as groggy as I’d been in the days past. No, ever since Luke’s drunken proclamation of love on Saturday night, I’d gotten used to losing sleep. I wasn’t even asleep when he’d busted in my room ten seconds before, which explained my quickness to get out of bed and on with the day’s run.

  Luke watched me from the door as I made my way through the room, gathering the essentials for our morning run.

  “Hurry up, Little,” he paced at the door, “we’re putting in an extra two miles this morning.”

  “What?” I asked, but he disappeared into the hallway.

  I slid into my shoes without untying the laces and followed him down the stairs.

  Why was he acting like nothing had changed?

  I surveyed the kitchen and determined that Charlie had already left for the day, so as Luke moved through the house, I reached forward to grab his arm.

  He stopped in his tracks and turned back to me. “Yes?”

  “Can we talk?” I kept my voice low so as not to wake up Matt.

  Luke shrugged. “Sure, what’s up?”

  I struggled to find the right words. It wasn’t exactly an easy situation to approach. What should I say? And even if I found the right words, how would he respond?

  “Julie?” he waved a hand in front of my face. “What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to talk about what happened the other night,” I said, nearly whispering.

  “What happened the other night?”

  “You know,” I hoped that I wouldn’t have to say much to jog his memory, “before you left.”

  He scrunched his brow and shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “What you said,” I said, getting a little irritated. “What you told me.”

  “What I told you?” he asked, growing almost as aggravated as I was. “What did I tell you?” As if he didn’t need any further elaboration, a worried look swept across his face. “Julie,” he said, leaning down to meet my gaze. “What exactly did I say to you?”

  I didn’t know how else to say it, so I just said it. I spent the next five minutes reliving our conversation on the porch from him interrupting my talk with Derek, to the moment when the cab pulled away and he called me a liar for not admitting that I loved him. The entire time I talked, Luke looked as though he was hearing it for the first time. He looked as though he didn’t believe it had ever happened.

  When he didn’t speak, I took a step forward and forced him to meet my gaze. “Luke,” I snapped my finger in his face, “why didn’t you just tell me that that’s how you feel?” He turned on his heel and stomped out of the house, taking long strides down the steps. Then he took off for his run down the sidewalk. “Luke!” I chased after him. “Luke, you didn’t stretch—”

  “It’s one thing to have a stupid crush, Julie,” he called back, still hurrying away, “but it’s another thing to try and manipulate me into believing that I actually care about you.”

  I finally caught up with him and we ran side-by-side. “You’re calling me a liar?”

  “What other explanation is there?”

  “Gee, I don’t know,” I said, slightly offended by his accusation. “Maybe that you really do have feelings for me?”

  He snorted, turned the corner, and picked up his pace as he left me fighting to keep up.

  “Luke,” I hoped to reason with him, “I would never lie to you. I’m telling you the truth!”

  “And another thing,” he interrupted, “you shouldn’t be hanging out with that Derek guy. I told you I don’t trust him.”

  “You never said that,” I said. “You told me to keep my eyes peeled.”

  “Well, I’m telling you now,” he said, raising his voice. “Stay away from him.”

  “Why?” I asked, taking each stride in step with him. “Because he’s nice to me? Because he talks to me like an equal? Because you feel threatened that maybe he’ll steal my attention away from you?”

  “Threatened?” he laughed, “God, Julie. Get over yourself.”

  As we ran side-by-side for the next two blocks, my side began to ache and my legs were pulsing with cramps. I struggled to keep up with him, and after a second or two, he’d taken a six-foot lead down the sidewalk.

  “Luke,” I panted. “Please slow down. I can’t keep up—”

  “Not my problem, Little,” he said. “You are not my problem.”

  As if I couldn’t stand another jab from Luke, I stopped in my tracks, picked up a palm-sized rock, and launched it at him, hitting him square in the back.

  He stopped running and turned to me with the promise of an evil wrath burning in his eyes. “What the hell is your problem?”

  “You!” I yelled, taking a second to catch my breath and gather my thoughts. “You know, I’m sorry if you can’t accept the truth, Luke, but here it is. I care about you. And I think you care about me, too. You told me you had feelings for me, and despite the context, I can’t help but think that that drunken confession the other night was the most honesty I’ve ever gotten from you.”

  “You need to stop,” he pointed a finger at me. “You don’t love me, Julie, and you don’t want me to love you.”

  With that, he turned away and took off running once again.

  “Luke!” I yelled as he turned the corner. “Lucas—James—Reibeck! Stop running from me!”

  But he was already gone.

  FIVE