Chapter 12 #3
Funny, I sort of feel good about the whole thing—at least the part about me saying what I’ve wanted and needed to say for years.
I tiptoe away, leaving them to talk or whatever.
I know I’ve said everything I need to say, but there are still parts of what just happened that are disappointing.
Like the fact that those two people in my dining room are supposed to be on my side.
I think it’s possible for my dad to feel that way but not Mom.
However, he still didn’t believe me when I told him about Alex.
He just couldn’t believe I could meet someone like him or that someone like Alex would want me.
Maybe I should have been more forthcoming while we watched the football game.
But the stuff with Bradley hadn’t been hashed yet––no, it wasn’t the right time, and I’m not going to second-guess myself at this point.
It doesn’t matter when I told him about Alex, he should have believed me.
He should know that I wouldn’t just make something like that up. I’ve never been that kind of person.
Maybe Dad’s right, though. That I have been living in a fantasy world.
Alex Emerson is one of those guys who will end up on magazine covers next to supermodels, and I’m…
well, I’m just me. Average Stella Matthews––future cat lady.
It’s okay. Cats are cool. I’ve never had a pet before.
Mom wouldn’t hear of it. So, that’s something to look forward to.
In my room, I gather my things. I hadn’t really unpacked, so it only takes a couple of minutes.
After grabbing my bag, I walk quietly down the stairs.
I don’t even want to tell them I’m leaving.
They’ll hear my car pull away and get the idea.
As I sneak toward the door, I hear their raised voices coming from the dining room.
I hear my name, so of course I stop to listen.
I know it’s wrong, but I want to know what they think of me behind my back.
It can’t be any worse than what they say to my face, right?
“Candy, enough is enough,” I hear my dad saying. “I’ve heard you talk about Stella in this disparaging way for too long. She’s a beautiful girl. Does she really believe she’s dating Emerson or is she just saying that to soften the blow of losing Bradley? It’s hard to tell,” Dad questions aloud.
“She could have Bradley back anytime she wants,” Mom remarks.
“Do you sincerely want her to be with someone who cheats on her?”
“Well, no, but Bradley is a logical choice for her. He’s willing to marry her.”
“Willing to marry her?” Dad’s voice sounds incredulous. “Is that what we want for her? Someone willing to marry her? I, for one, want Stella to be happy, even if that means she never gets married.”
“I’d like grandchildren someday, Jim.” Mom sounds snippy.
“Well, I want grandchildren too but not at the expense of her happiness.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Bradley would make her a fine husband. He could make her happy.”
“Again, Candy, he’s a cheater,” my dad says angrily.
“Maybe she misunderstood what was happening? He’s a normal young man—”
“Candy.” There’s a long pause. “I was young once too, and I never cheated on you. If it’s normal for Bradley, it should be normal for every man according to that logic. That’s not what we want for her. At least that’s not what I want for her. What I want is for her to be happy.”
“I want her to be happy too, Jim.”
“Do you? Because it doesn’t come across that way. You’re extremely critical of her. It’s been going on too long. I should have intervened before today. Then maybe she wouldn’t feel compelled to make up all-American boyfriends,” Dad mutters.
I scoff at that. He really thinks I’m delusional. I start to leave but stop again.
“I want the best for her too. I want her to look her best and present herself in the best possible way,” explains Mom.
“She is all of those things. She’s beautiful.
Her manners are impeccable. And that’s all thanks to you, Candy.
But you go too far with her. I’ve watched you talk down to her and berate her when she doesn’t deserve it.
I’ve let you handle all of those things so far because you’re her mom and mothers and daughters should work together, but it’s gone on long enough.
It’s time for me to step in. We need to let her grow up and find her own happiness.
Let’s allow her to be who she's supposed to be.”
“Well, I want that too. I’m not trying to stifle that, Jim.”
“Actually, I think you might be trying to stifle that to create her in your own image. You’ve got to remember, she’s five feet three inches tall, and she’s built just like your mother.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” Mom sounds horrified.
“Candace, she’s never going to be you—five feet nine and slim. She’s never going to look like you. She’s voluptuous. She’s nineteen, and her body is what it is. It’s not going to change no matter how much vegetarian lasagna and fresh fruit you make her eat.”
Mom scoffs.
“She eats relatively healthy foods, and that’s thanks to you. You’ve taught her how to do that.”
“If she would exercise more—” Mom tries to explain.
“Candy, we all could exercise more. It’s not just Stella. Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt. We’ve kept a tight rein on her for her entire life. Maybe we need to trust that we did a good job and let her make some of her own choices now.”
“Do you mean let her be an art major?” Mom scoffs again. “Where did that come from anyway?”
“She’s always loved art. From the time she could hold a crayon, she’s been making art.
So, yeah, maybe I am. I could think of worse things she could do.
For example, not finishing college because she hates what she’s doing.
That’s number one on the list. How would you have liked to have your parents dictate what you studied in college?
As I recall, your mom wanted you to major in home economics. ”
“Ugh, don’t remind me, Jim.”
“The point is, you did what you wanted to do, Candy.”
“I know, but I chose mathematics, a solid degree.”
“That you haven’t used,” he reminds her. “Don’t look at me like that, Candy. You know what I mean. I want her to decide what’ll make her happy. She’s a talented painter. I know you’ve noticed.”
“She is, but painting is just a hobby.”
“Not to everyone it’s not. I’m ready to let Stella make some choices.
And you need to figure out a way to make things right with your daughter.
If you don’t, there’ll be a cavernous divide in your relationship forever.
If she has children, you may never get to see them if you continue treating her like she’s not good enough.
She may not want that type of attitude around her own children. ”
“Jim! What are you saying to me?” I can hear Mom sniffling. She’s crying? She rarely cries. Even so, I find it hard to feel sorry for her.
After listening to their talk, I decide that I’m not as angry as I was and choose to stay overnight. But I won’t go to the barbecue. I’ve endured enough for one weekend.
It was a fascinating conversation, though.
I wonder if anything will change. Tiptoeing back upstairs, I make sure to be as quiet as possible.
I don’t want them to know I was in earshot of their little discussion.
Once in my room, I plop down on my bed and sigh.
What a night. What a day. I’m exhausted.
I smile remembering how my day started––in Alex’s bed with his arm wrapped around me.
A shiver runs through me at the memory. My good thoughts are marred by the memory of Bradley in my dorm room.
“What did I ever see in Bradley?” Or better yet, how did I let myself believe Bradley actually cared for me?
I should have known on the 4th of July, the day my future was planned out for me, that something was amiss.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to avoid thinking about that day, but no matter how much I try, the memories keep trying to weasel themselves to the surface.
After Bradley’s sweet proposal and the fireworks, he and I walked down by the lake.
He took my hand, and we strolled away from prying eyes.
When we were far enough away, I stepped up onto my tiptoes and leaned in to kiss him.
He’s not super tall, probably five foot nine inches, but I’m only five foot three inches so, I had to stretch up to reach his lips.
He kissed me back—no tongue, of course. I thanked him again for the beautiful ring and the romantic gesture.
He told me that he wanted to show everyone how much I meant to him. That’s why he did it so publicly.
After the kiss, I told Bradley I was ready for us to move on to the next level, and by next level, I meant sex.
Heck, I think I would have accepted touching or groping of any kind.
I mean, I was eighteen going on nineteen and still a virgin!
We’d been together for almost a year. I thought it was time, especially since he was promised to me.
But Bradley wasn’t convinced. He said he thought we should wait. He wanted to do it at a special time and place. He said he’d plan something for us in the near future so that we could take that important step. Reluctantly, I agreed. I mean, what else could I do?
After our embarrassing little talk, we rushed back to join our friends. I went to join Lily while Bradley joined all of his fraternity brothers. Lily’s known me since first grade. She could tell when something was wrong with me before I knew it sometimes.
“What’s wrong?” Lily asked.
I shrugged, not ready to admit that Bradley turned me down, again. Lily didn’t relent. So, I told her.
Lily rolled her eyes. “You know he’s not a virgin, right?”
I shrugged again. I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected. After all, he was two years older than me and going to be a junior in college. I assumed he had experience. “I know. I guess Bradley just wants to make it special.”
After another dramatic eye roll—sometimes I thought those eyes of hers would roll right out of her head—she added, “He slept with, like, every female in his high school class, and I mean every female.”
“Allegedly,” I defended.
“Allegedly, my ass!”
I rolled my own eyes at Lily’s dramatic response.
It’s not possible that he slept with every female.
I know at least one girl who would not be interested in Bradley, or any other boy for that matter.
I doubt he talked her into bed. Just saying.
“I don’t expect him to be a virgin. That just means that he will know what to do when the time comes.
” I nodded as I spoke. It made it look like I was on board with Bradley’s plan.
I cringe at the memories. I mean, what a joke.
My life is one big, stupid joke. I roll over on my side and stare at my Charlie Puth poster.
“I bet you’d treat a girl better than that, wouldn’t you, Charlie?
” Yeah, I’m talking to a poster. I slide the pillow underneath my head and take a deep breath.
Just as I start to doze off, I hear a ding from my phone. Wow, great timing. It’s Alex.
Donnie: You there, sweetness?
Me: Sweetness? That’s a new one, Donnie.
Donnie: Because you’re sweet as can be.
Me: Really? Thank you.
Donnie: You’re welcome. How has it been at home? Did you deal with Brad?
I really don’t feel like talking about it but I suppose I must.
Me: It went okay.
Maybe that’s enough and he’ll let it drop.
Me: Great game, by the way. You were amazing!
Donnie: Oh, stop. ;)
It’s working.
Me: I also googled you.
Donnie: And? What did you learn that you didn’t know already?
Me: Everything. Do you know how many times you’re listed on Google? It’s insane. You’re like a celebrity.
Donnie: No, I’m not. I’m just me, Pixie. Now, I noticed you switched topics on me. Tell me… how did everything go tonight?
Me: Ugh, don’t ask.
Donnie: But I am asking. Are you OK?
Me: It was about what I expected.
Donnie: You aren’t back with Brad, are you?
Me: Of course not. It’s just, well, my mom is not a very nice person. I’ll just leave it at that. I didn’t mean to, but I sort of, maybe, told them that you and I were dating.
Donnie: Good. I’m glad. But do they know who I am?
Me: Of course! My dad’s a huge Wildcat football fan. He knows about you. The sad part is that they didn’t believe me. They thought I made you up to deflect some of the conversation about Bradley and me.
Donnie: What? Why wouldn’t they believe you?
Me: They don’t believe someone like you would want to be with someone like me.
Donnie: Someone like you? You mean beautiful, sexy, smart, funny, and amazing?
Me: Well, they don’t see me like that, I guess.
Donnie: That’s terrible. What do you want me to do, Stella? Can I help you in any way?
Me: No. You’re already doing it. I was really happy to see your name pop up on my screen, Mr. Football God.
Donnie: Grrrr
Me: LOL. You seriously just text growled at me. The other good news is that I’m heading back early. After everything that happened today, I’m heading back to school first thing tomorrow. Screw the blasted barbecue.
Donnie: Really? That’s awesome. So, what are you doing tomorrow night then? It’s Sunday, and we don’t have school on Monday….
Me: I’ve no plans since this was impromptu.
Donnie: Well, I’d like to ask… would you go on a date with me, Stella?
Me: To the caf?
Donnie: Nope. A real date. One where we dress up, eat at a fancy place with candles and what not. What do you say?
Oh, my gosh. Alex Emerson just asked me on a date. A real one.
Me: Sure. That sounds nice. What time?
Donnie: I’ll pick you up at your room at 6:30 p.m. Does that work?
Me: Yep. That works.
Donnie: All right, Pixie. Time for my beauty sleep. I worked extra hard on the field today to impress my girl. I hope it worked.
Me: You were trying to impress me?
Donnie: Of course.
Me: You are so sweet, Alex, thank you.
Donnie: Just thank me by going out with me tomorrow. Sweet dreams, sweetness.
Me: Ha-ha. Night, Alex.
He has got to be the sweetest man that ever lived, I swear.
I lie back on my pillow and reread the texts that he sent to me.
A date? A real date? I’ve never been on an actual date.
Bradley never saw the need—either that or he just didn’t want to be seen with me.
I think it was the second one, sadly. I fall asleep clutching my phone to my chest. Alex made the bad part of my day fade away. Poof.