Chapter 24 #2
But Mason had already guided Hamish out and had gotten quite far down the driveway as I followed behind, pondering all my life choices in that brief moment of time, my hair, my clothes, my deodorant, my ability to dance. Oh yeah, it was a wonder my shirt wasn’t soaked through with sweat.
I didn’t see if Mason knocked or rang the doorbell, but he’d scampered off and was peeping out from behind Quinn’s car, leaving Hamish obediently holding the gift bag in his mouth. I positioned myself at the edge of the driveway so I’d be able to see Quinn’s reaction when she opened the door.
Except Mrs. Devereaux opened the door.
I panicked. Why wasn’t it Quinn, surely she was expecting me?
Mrs. Devereaux’s scowl was obvious and she gasped as she put out a hand to shoo Hamish away, and that’s probably what made Mason leap out.
“It’s for Quinn,” he said, approaching Hamish in a protective way.
Right on cue, Quinn appeared in the doorway next to her mother. “Hamish? What’s this?” She bent down and patted Hamish. “Is this for me?”
Mason nodded as Mrs. Devereux asked, “Hamish? The dog’s name is Hamish?”
Quinn was scanning around, but Mason had said to stay back until she’d opened it.
“Yes, Mrs. Devereaux,” Mason said. “This is Hamish. We wanted to call him Rocket or Cooper, but Dad called him Hamish as a joke and it ended up being the only name he answered to.”
“Hamish is a fine name,” Mrs. Devereaux said, but keeping her distance.
Meanwhile Quinn had taken the gift bag and was peering in. A smile curled at her lips as she brought out the red apple, then the other.
I guess Mason couldn’t help himself. “He’s just like Valden, delivering the crystal to Mirabelle.”
Quinn reached into the bag again and pulled out the Squishmallow, wrapped in tissue paper. She carefully opened it, her eyes lighting up as she held Felix.
“Ooh, I don’t have a clip-on Felix,” she said, reading his name tag. “I’ve been looking at him.” She turned to her mother with a wry smile. “But I’ve been on a Squishmallow buying ban.”
I figured it was a good time to come out from my spot. “I hope you like him. He likes soccer and motorcycles,” I said.
Quinn smiled when she saw me. “My Prince Vindex.” My cheeks heated up at her comment, especially with her mom standing there. “It’s from the Silver Dragons book,” she explained, giving a brief plot synopsis to her mother, exactly how Mason had told me.
But Mrs. Devereaux didn’t seem to be listening, having noticeably stiffened as Hamish, who had been roaming around Quinn, now moved toward her.
“Hamish,” I commanded, urging him to sit. “He won’t hurt you, Mrs. D,” I said, immediately biting my lip that I’d called her that and not her full name, “he just gets a bit excited at new people.”
“He’s harmless, Mom,” Quinn said, also aware her mother had paled. “Hamish is a teddy bear.” She stooped down and stroked Hamish’s back, before looking up and asking, “Are you scared of dogs, Mom?”
With Hamish moving away from her skirt, Mrs. Devereaux took a step back. “Not scared,” she said but she shuddered all the same, “just cautious. I was bitten by one when I was younger.”
“Hamish wouldn’t bite you,” Mason piped up.
“I didn’t know that,” Quinn said. “When was that?”
“I was eleven,” Mrs. Devereaux said. “I patted the dog on the head and it snapped at my hand. I’ve never liked dogs since then.”
“Sometimes they bite when they get a fright, like if it didn’t expect to be touched,” I said. “But Hamish is pretty chill. And he seems to like you,” I added, yeah hoping to get into Mrs. D’s good books.
Mrs. Devereaux smile was tight, but at least it was a smile.
“Just pat his back, Mom,” Quinn encouraged, “he’s so soft and just look at those big brown eyes.”
Mrs. Devereaux stretched her hand out for a fleeting touch and Quinn cheered like it was a major achievement. “See Mom, he’s gorgeous.” She went down on one knee and brushed her cheek against Hamish’s head.
“Quinn! Your dress!” Mrs. Devereaux exclaimed. “You’ve got a dance to go to, young lady.”
“It’s fine,” Quinn said, standing up.
I took her by the hand. “Yeah, we do have a dance to go to.”
“Okay.” She picked some fur off of her dress. “But let me take a photo with Hamish. Arghh, I wished I’d taken one with him holding the bag.”
Mason staged Hamish to hold the bag again and Quinn and I posed while her mother took photos, a lot of photos. Quinn attached Felix to her purse and we finally left, Quinn still raving on about the gift and the whole performance.
“Well, I have a confession to make,” I said, “it was all Mason’s idea. I don’t have a clue who Prince Windex is.”
“Prince Vindex,” Quinn said with a laugh. “And I know. But it’s still awesome. You’re awesome.”
“Not as awesome as you,” I beamed back.
I gave her the pancake family when we were in the car and she’d been reduced to tears, I kid you not. It was like I’d given her a Lamborghini or something.
“I love this,” she said, hugging me across the console. “You really get me.”
“Uh oh, confession time again,” I huffed out a laugh and nodded, “Yep, Mase’s idea.”
Quinn smiled and sighed softly. “Okay, I get it...Mason has all the good ideas, but it’s you that I want.”
Yeah, the grin became permanent after that and it was the first time I’d ever enjoyed a school dance.
Though I wasn’t wearing a tie, my plain beige button down shirt was still trying to choke me, but I considered it all worth it for Quinn.
She looked stunning in her blue dress with her hair curled in loose waves and smelling like a tropical island.
And as the lights dimmed and the music slowed, my courage kicked in. I wasn’t afraid to show everyone that I was head-over-heels for Quinn.
“You know what my Dad said once,” I murmured to her as I led her to the dance floor, “keep your friends close but your enemies closer.” And I guided her hands up around my neck while mine tightened around her waist. “I want you this close,” I whispered.
“Are you still calling me the enemy?” She arched an eyebrow in curiosity.
“Yeah, well I believe there’s also a quote that says ‘Love your enemy,’” I said.
“Oh, in that case, I don’t mind being the enemy,” Quinn said, her body swaying in sync with mine, our hearts beating to our own rhythm.
“Yeah,” I grinned, “long may we remain enemies.” And I lowered my head, our lips meeting in a sweet kiss, the rest of the room fading as we held each other, her soft lips sending sparks through me, my chest pounding at high velocity, our world spinning on an axis of its own.
And when our lips drew apart, the high remained and I had a feeling my senior year could only get better.