15. Delia
Fifteen
Delia
I ’m sated and lounging in bed while Mom gets a fire going outside. The descending sun makes the entire horizon glow and in the van, everything is cast into an orangey richness. I toss my summer reading book which I just started on the bed and crack open my journal while I have a moment alone to put my thoughts down.
I haven’t seen Langdon since he took me swimming. Apparently he doesn’t work Fridays. I won’t lie, I was fairly disappointed when I found out I wouldn’t be seeing him yesterday but I managed to get through my shift without getting distracted or irritated.
I stopped at a couple local shops with Mom after work and bought some new clothes for school next week. Senior year! One year left and I can move away and do whatever I want with my time. Mom had a million questions for me when I got home from the river. She wanted all the details, of which, I left out most. As far as she knows I met some kids from school and we’re all instant best friends. She likes it when I have friends.
I keep daydreaming about Langdon basically naked in the river staring at me like he was about to devour me. I don’t think a guy’s ever looked at me like that before. I can’t shake the thought or the way it made me feel. My belly still wooshes the way it does when you’re on a roller coaster and you hit the first drop, when I recall it.
It’s the last weekend of summer. I assume tomorrow night we’ll be having dinner at Gramps again and that Langdon will be there too. I don’t want to be excited about that but I can’t seem to help myself. I keep trying to chalk it up to—he’s the only person my age I know in town—so obviously I feel a connection. It will go away when school starts and I find my own friends.
It will, right? Langdon is all the things I don’t generally like in people. Loud. Too good looking. Popular. Conceited. So damn sure of himself. And Hailie. I think I’m scared of her. The way she sized me up at the river and tried to throw herself at Langdon made me want to sprint out of the water screaming, “Don’t worry you’re perfect for each other, see ya!”
The crunch of tires on dirt breaks my chain of thought. I put my pen in my notebook as a bookmark and peek out the van window just as Mom stands up and blocks my view. She laughs at something and holds up a finger to wait.
Her head pops in the van door. “Delia! You have a visitor.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I do? ”
“Langdon’s here.” She draws out the g in his name as if I have some schoolgirl crush on him. I roll my eyes.
“Tell him I’m busy.”
Mom slaps the back of the seat. “But you’re not!”
I widen my eyes, pleading with her. “Mom, please.”
She sighs and gives me a very maternal pointed look. “Tell him yourself.” God, she is so lame sometimes.
I stand up, irritated at Mom’s chit-chat with Langdon which I can clearly hear, tug at the hem of my shorts, and slip my feet into flip flops before stepping out of the van. Langdon lifts his hand half-assedly in my direction and while my mom glances at me over her shoulder, he shoots me a desperate look for help. Dammit. Why is he so cute?
“Hey Langdon, what’s up?” I sidle up to Mom and stand.
“I came to pick you up.” He grins at me, revealing his dimples and my ovaries nearly combust on the spot.
Confusion wrinkles my brow. “For what?”
“The party.”
Why does he do this? Talk to me like I’ve lived here my whole life and know what he’s talking about. I jam my fists on my hips. “What party?”
“There’s always a big party the Saturday before school starts. Thought you’d wanna come. You know,” he says, eyeing my mom, “make some new friends before the first day.”
“That sounds fun,” Mom says. Her smile stretches ear to ear.
I push some dirt around with my toe. Langdon wants to take me to a party. A flutter of excitement ripples in my belly at the same time a healthy dose of social anxiety hits. I don’t really do parties. It’s not my scene. I like small groups. Intimate conversation over loud screeching and kids stumbling around smashing into things. I like campfires and board games and chill smoke sessions with music playing not blaring.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to finish the summer reading for English.”
Mom nudges my shoulder with hers. “Go. Have fun. Live a little,” she says quietly.
“Please,” Langdon says while trying to give me his best puppy dog eyes.
“Ugh. Fine. But when I say I’m done and we’re out…we are out. Understood? Also, I don’t do drunk idiots. If you drink and try to drive me home, I’ll kick you in the dick, take your keys and leave you there.”
Mom laughs, pats me on the back, and says, “That’s my girl.” While Langdon stares at me like I’ve grown a goiter the size of a watermelon from my neck.
“That’s oddly specific,” he says.
Smirking, I shrug. I glance over my shoulder at the fire Mom’s made and feel a pang of disappointment. I was looking forward to hanging out and watching the fire burn tonight. I look to Langdon and notice he’s also entranced in the flames. He looks weary, though I don’t know why.
“Let’s go,” I say. Langdon snaps his eyes from the dancing flames to me and smiles.
Mom tugs my hand forcing my attention to her. She’s shaking her head, a look of bewilderment on her face.
“What? ”
“Not like that. You should change.”
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I huff. “Mom, kids don’t dress up for parties.”
Langdon chuckles before covering his mouth with his big strong hand. Ugh, brain, why’d you go there?
“Langdon, give us five minutes,” Mom says tugging me away. She all but shoves me inside the van and immediately starts throwing things at me. My favorite jean skirt, a different tank from the one I have on, and heeled sandals.
“This is ridiculous,” I sigh. Fighting with her never got me anywhere though, so I change my clothes, but keep my flip-flops. She turns on our little lamp and motions for me to give her my face. I suck in a deep breath and jut my chin at her.
“It’s not ridiculous. This is your first impression for most of your classmates. Just let me put a little makeup on you.”
“I don’t want to go. You always force me to do shit I don’t want to do.”
“I’m not forcing you.” She chastises. Mom proceeds to do what she does best. She dabs pink pigment on my lips and swishes gold-hued powder on my cheeks before drawing lines around my eyeballs so everyone will know where they should be focusing their attention. Her words not mine. When she’s done she hands me a microscopic comb gooped with black and I coat each eyelash until it makes my eyes pop. She sits back and admires her work.
“Gorgeous. You are a stunner.”
I roll my eyes. “As if.”
“You better not keep your boy waiting. Go! Have fun.” She pushes a section of blonde hair over her shoulder.
“He’s not my boy,” I say .
Exiting the van she mumbles something about the way Langdon looks at me that I ignore because she couldn’t be more wrong. Langdon has girls literally hanging all over him. He doesn’t look at me like anything.
Langdon’s on his phone, hip against his truck. I tug at the hem of my too-short skirt as I approach. His eyes snap up, his phone shoved into his pocket forcefully while his eyes start at my toes and work their way up my body. Lingering. Each spot his gaze lingers feels like an open flame on my skin; scorching, singing.
He quirks an eyebrow at me and whistles. “Damn Delia.”
I hold up a hand as embarrassment washes over me. “Oh my god, stop. Please.”
“You went from hobo chic to…”
“That’s it, I’m not going.” I turn on my heel and head back toward the van. A warm, large hand wraps around my bicep, stopping me in my tracks.
“I’ll stop.” His voice comes out husky and kind of breathless. I spin to face him slowly. His eyes bore into mine earnestly but intensely and my mind turns into a jungle. A mass of jumbled vine-like thoughts and desires. Stop it, Delia. He releases my arm and it falls to my side limply. Sad at the loss of contact. “I mean it though, you look really…” he scratches his head and looks over my shoulder. “Nice.”
“Um, thanks,” I sputter.
“Have fun guys!” Mom calls from her chair by the fire. She’s grinning like a Cheshire cat and it instantly irritates me.
“Let’s get this over with,” I say. Langdon laughs but walks me to his truck and opens my door for me .
Gracefully getting in is all but a pipe dream in the skirt mom picked out for me, so I awkwardly shimmy my way in while tossing a prayer into the wind that I don’t flash Langdon in the process.