Chapter 3
By Friday, I’ve worked five days with Anthony, and I still haven’t been able to figure him out. Most guys would have suggested that we hang out or something by now, but Anthony seems to not be interested in me at all. In fact, he seems to be repulsed by me, and this rejection is quite a strange experience. The thought that he might be gay briefly crosses my mind, but I quickly abandon that thought when he tells me that he asked another senior—a female—to the prom.
“Are you going to the prom?” he asks.
“No.” I pull on another weed, but curse when the gnarly root remains embedded in the black soil. A few boys have asked me, but my mom forbid me to go, so I had to (not so) regretfully decline. It’s just as well anyway, for if I go to the prom, most of my friends will probably steal away to make out, or rent a hotel room, and I won’t be doing any of that. I don’t like any of the guys at school enough to want to have them eternally bound to me, especially not after seeing how Savannah acted toward me when I used my flair on her.
“What’s wrong?” Anthony asks.
His deep voice brings me back to the present. “Nothing, just these roots are being so…difficult!” I plop down into the grass and huff.
“Of course, it’s their job to be.”
That’s a strange reply. “My hands hurt, my knees hurt, and I’m getting behind on my homework.”
“No one’s forcing you to do this, you know. And why don’t you wear gardening gloves? That would save your hands a lot of pain,” Anthony says.
I frown. “I know no one’s forcing me to do this. You don’t have to state the obvious all the time. And my hands can’t grab these stupid roots when I wear gloves.” Why does he care about my hands anyway? I walk over to my water bottle and take a few sips. Glancing over at him, I see the muscles in his back flex as he pulls out the weeds, and at that my heart starts beating faster. If I’m truly honest with myself, what I’m really upset about is that Anthony is pretty much just ignoring me, and it’s driving me crazy.
“So why are you doing this? You’ve already put in the ten hours Principal Jenkins told you that you have to.” Anthony wipes the dirt off his face with the front of his shirt, revealing his six-pack. His abdomen is as tan as his forearms so I conclude that he must play soccer—shirtless.
I force myself not to let my eyes linger. “I just hate leaving a job unfinished,” I say, but again, that’s not the real reason. “Why are you here? You never told me your story of how you got stuck in the greenhouse in the first place.”
Anthony smiles, his pearly teeth are extra white against his skin. “I just moved here about a month ago and needed to earn some extra credit so I could graduate on time,” he says. “I worked out a deal with Principal Jenkins.”
That’s why I haven’t seen him before. Most of the other girls in school must know about him, but since Ashley and I are somewhat outsiders, I’ve never been introduced to Anthony. “So where did you move from?” I’m pleased that we’re having a conversation that sounds like an actual...well…conversation.
“From Norway. My mother worked there for a year, but then got transferred to Sarasota.”
I think back to a discussion I had with my mom, and how she said she used to live in Norway when she was younger. “My mom lived in Norway before I was born.” I kick a root in the ground, trying to loosen it.
“Really, where?” He strains as he pulls at another root.
“Somewhere on the west coast,” I say, not remembering the name of the city.
“We stayed in Asker. It’s about a thirty minute drive south of their Capitol, Oslo.” Anthony pushes me gently aside and lifts the root up as if it’s nothing.
Really? I huff, figuring I probably loosened it for him. “Did you like it there?”
“Sure. The people there are down to earth, and their heritage is amazing. I became fascinated by the Vikings and did a lot of research on their mythology and folklore.”
“I love Viking mythology.” I pull on the next weed. “My mom studied Norse mythology and most recently, she told me there is something called a Huldra. It’s interesting how all people think a Huldra is nothing but a woman who is obsessed with seducing men.” I think I see Anthony’s jaw drop from the corner of my eye. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought the Huldra up; it is a rather intense subject, but I like his reaction more than I want to admit.
“Most people have no clue when it comes to Norse mythology,” he says angrily and stands up. “We’re done for today.”
“But we just started,” I protest. Was what I said that offensive? For a moment I want to use my flair on him so I can control him, but it would be wrong. And would I want him to follow me around…forever? Uh…no. He’s too moody.
“I forgot that I have somewhere I have to be. Have a good weekend.” Then he jogs all the way back to the greenhouse, leaving me to the rest of the work.
Forget this! I’m not going to waste my time here, weeding on a Friday night—alone. Anthony gets upset about everything I say and annoyed by everything I do. I’m done weeding. I’ve put in my ten hours, and I’m finished. I want to be around people who understand me and who make sense. I text Ashley:
Want to go see a movie?
Ashley’s quick to reply:
Sure! How about the new zombie movie that just came out?
I loathe anything to do with zombies, but the action might help me take my mind off moody Anthony.
What time and theatre?
I type back. After about three minutes Ashley’s reply comes.
7:30 p. m., Sarasota Square Mall.
Back home, I shower and finish some of my homework before heading out. “I’ll be back around 10:30, Mom!” I holler on my way out the door, shutting it before I hear her reply. Hopping into the car, I catch a whiff of a familiar, heavenly scent. I love how my dad’s cologne still lingers in the seats of the vehicle and how it makes me feel safe, like he’s still part of my life. He used to drive me everywhere, and it was our time to talk about everything and nothing. I especially miss him on weekends when we used to go to the beach together or go hiking or camping. He loved nature and wildlife in general, and I could tell that being outside enlivened his soul.
I turn on the engine and I’m surprised by the sudden sound of my mom knocking on the car window.
“Don’t forget your phone,” she says, handing it to me. “You left it in the kitchen.”
“Thanks.” I grab it and put it in my yellow bag. I really need to clean it out. I carry make-up, my wallet, a mirror, three adhesive bandages and antibiotic ointment—just in case I need them—a toothbrush and toothpaste, a travel-size hairbrush and gum. I never throw away any receipts, and they are starting to take over the entire purse. Tomorrow I’ll get it done, I promise myself.
“Have fun, and say ‘hi’ to Ashley for me.” My mom looks thinner than usual, or maybe it’s just the way the rays from the setting sun hit her face, making her cheeks look hollow and the circles under her eyes darker.
“Sure.” I roll up the window, pause, and then roll it back down again. “You should go out…have some fun too, Mom.”
She smiles. “Don’t worry about me, Sonia. When I’m ready to, I will.”
Maybe I haven’t been sensitive enough to her needs since my dad passed away. We never really speak about his death and the pain it has caused, we have only talked about the good memories we shared when he was alive. I really want to speak to her about the pain and how to get over it before it turns into a wound that can never be healed.
“Go, or you’ll be late,” she says, waving her hand.
I smile, wave back, and pull out of the driveway.