One Summer

Chapter 3

     Patricia flopped down on her gothic purple bed later that evening. She had a lot on her mind. Piper walked in soon and sat on her own colorful, cheery bed. Patricia's side of the room fit her personality, with deep purples and blood-reds. She had posters up of bands such as the Sick Puppies. Piper, on the other hand, had bright blues and yellows and posters of classical musicians. Patricia hated sharing a room with Piper. Their parents also compared them, and next to Piper's room, Patricia's looked almost evil. Like a villain's lair in a spring meadow.

     "Are you going to write in your diary?" Piper teased Patricia. Piper was the only one who knew about Patricia's diary. If anyone else knew, she would die.

     "What's there to write about?" Patricia played dumb. "Except that the new guy at out diner is not only incredibly annoying, but also really stupid."

     "Ah, Trixie, we both know you think he's cute. How could you not?"

     "I don't." Patricia felt another blush. "Besides, even if I did, 'cute' has nothing to do with anything."

     "Whatever." Piper rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go take a shower. Bang on the door if you need me."

    Patricia waited until she heard the heavy bathroom door close, and then pulled out her diary. She had only filled up about half the page when she heard the door bell go off downstairs. Patricia sat up slightly, trying to see if she could hear who it was. When she realized she couldn't, she went to the top of the red-carpeted stairs to listen.

    "Sorry, Eddie. I don't have time to show you where Drew lives." Patricia heard her dad say.

    "Now he knows where I live. Great." She muttered to herself.

    "That's okay, Mr. Williamson. Patricia's friends with him right?" Eddie politely asked. "I can see her at the top of the stairs." Patricia made a sound of frustration.

    "Oh, good. Patricia, show Eddie where Drew lives." Her dad told her, motioning for her to come to the door. "You know where he lives, right?"

    "No, I don't." Patricia lied.

    "Nonsense, you went to that party of his just a few weeks ago, Patricia." Her mom appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Nice try, though. Now, go." Patricia made her way downstairs. Just as she stepped off the bottom step, her mom grabbed her shoulder. "And be nice, please." Her mom whispered.

    "Fine." Patricia groaned. "Come on, Eddie. He lives a street over." She led him out the door, shutting it behind her. "Why were you at my house exactly?" she questioned him as they walked.

    "Well, I live just down the street from you. Or my dad does, anyway." Eddie shrugged. "I figured you would know."

    "Who's your dad? Sherlock Holmes?" Patricia was only half joking. How did he find her house, anyway?

     "Eric Sweet? Right down the street from you?" Eddie asked, zipping up his leather jacket. "Hey, we have similar tastes."

     "What?" Patricia looked puzzled.

     "In jackets." Eddie pointed to her leather jacket.

    "Why are you looking at my top? Quit it." Patricia accused.

    "Sorry. I was just trying to make conversation." Eddie rolled his eyes. "What bands do you like?"

    "Do you really care?" Patricia zipped up her jacket.

    "Why do you act like that?"

    "Like what?" Patricia dared him to continue. Instead of taking it as a warning, Eddie continued.

    "Like you are hiding something from the world. Like no one could ever care about you. I feel like there's a wall between us, even though I'm right next to you."

    "If I were you, I would stop talking." Patricia grew angry.

    "Well, you're not me. Just answer the question." Patricia just ignored him for the short distance they had left until Drew's house.

     "Do you need me to hold your hand? Walk you up to the door and ring the doorbell for you?" Patricia acted like she was talking to a seven year old.

    "No. Well, you can hold my hand if you want to." Eddie smirked.

    "Forget it, weasel." She turned and walked away from Eddie, leaving Eddie staring after her.