Heart Condition

Chapter Twenty-Three: Dinner, The Prequel

I decided on a gray shirt with white polka dots, and a pair of dark blue jeans. Boots? The cute ones, with the heel that made me look tall. What was I going to do with my hair? I wanted to do something simple, but elegant; was tonight fancy? I didn’t think so. Possibly.
            I left my hair down, my mother curling just a few small sections to make it look natural. Let’s be honest; I couldn’t be trusted with the curling iron. I didn’t have enough hand-eye coordination with steaming appliances to even attempt such feats. Usually, I’d pitch a fit when she messed with my hair, because I liked it long and straight, no big surprises.
            “Mom?” I asked, staring in the mirror and analyzing exactly what I’d do if given the choice.
            She looked up, “Yes, baby?”
            I tilted my head just a little, “What do you think about my hair color?”
            “I love it.” She looked up, “It’s the most lovely shade of brown; it reminds me of just-barely overdone marshmallows in a fire.”
            “Silly.” I said softly, “You make it sound like my hair is edible.”
            “Well, you could…”
            “Mom! Don’t be gross.”
            She just laughed, “What are you thinking? You don’t want a bottle of peroxide, do you?” Her eyes met mine in the mirror, and I shook my head.
            I’d thought about it a lot. I’d thought about it for a long time: just two streaks, the same shade as London Blue stones; the blue of the diamond in Titanic that Rose dropped into the ocean.
            When I told my mom, she smiled, wrinkling her nose. “Really?” She asked, separating the pieces that girls normally highlighted; it was funny that someone like my mom, a newscaster, knew so much about fashion. But at the same time, maybe it was all part of her job. She was on TV all the time, and I guess it made sense that she would understand the trends that go on in the world.
            “I mean, you can.” She shrugged, loosening my curls, “If you’d like. It’s your hair; do what you want with it.”
            I looked up, “You won’t be mad?”
            She laughed, “Heavens no. I just don’t know what we’ll tell Daniel’s mother when she comes to Christmas dinner.”
            Daniel’s mom, my Mammy Sheryl, was very much a traditional sort of woman. Which seemed ironic to me, just because Daniel said they never really went to church or anything like that. She just didn’t like the idea of girls getting their hair cut short or putting on make-up; she threw a fit when she saw me in wedges at Thanksgiving. But of course, she did it in that subtle way that only made me subconsciously uncomfortable.
            Mom spoke, “Does this boy like girls with colors in their hair? He’s not one of those punk-rock kids, is he?”
            I rolled my eyes, “Mom, you met Sasha. He’s not like that.”
            “Well, you never know.” She shrugged, “He could be a chain-smoking playboy hiding The Anarchist’s Cookbook under his mattress.”
            “Mom.” I refuted, “That’s so not Sasha.”
            She nodded, sitting on the edge of my bed, “And you two still haven’t…”
            “It’s been a month.” I shook my head, “Less than. Besides, we…” There was a moment; a silent moment, where I could almost hear her say it. Would Mom think it was stupid? Unrealistic?
            “You what?” She asked.
            I shrugged, “We made a deal.”
            “You made a deal.” She said slowly, and I gave her a moment to process the information for what it was.
            It worked for us, the deal. We kissed each other in the hallway at school, held hands and all that. I think even Lindsey Martin caught Sasha and me staring at each other in English when we were supposed to be watching Kristen Stewart attempt to cope with being attacked by Eric Lively. I lived for those moments; when the lights were off, and I could stare at Sasha all I wanted. Nothing was happening, but everything was at the same time.
            “What kind of deal?” She asked, holding up my black round dangly earrings. I took them, adjusting as I placed each one in my ear.
            I sighed, “Just a deal. We made a deal that we wouldn’t be all lovey-dovey in front of people, for one.”
            “No kissing?”
            “We kiss.” I smiled, “We just don’t make out in the hallway like animals.”
            Mom nodded, “Okay. What else?”
            “Privacy.” I remarked, wiping my hands on my jeans before standing “We don’t tell people about us if we can help it.”
            “So he’s keeping you a secret.”
            I shook my head, “Not even. People know we’re…we’re dating.” I double-checked to make sure I didn’t have any stray hairs or loose threads and started for the stairs with my mother at my heels.
            “It’s serious?” She took strides, half-chasing me into the kitchen. I hopped up on the bar stool and waited for her to walk over to the kitchen sink to wash her hands.
            I shrugged, “Maybe.”
            “Are you a couple?”
            “I guess.”
            “Well, is he seeing other girls?”
            I shook my head, “Not that I know of. I mean, I don’t think so. That would kind of defeat the purpose of the pact.”
             “So you two are going steady then.” She smiled, lifting me up out of the chair, “And tonight is the night you meet the parents.”
            “It’s not ‘going steady’.” I refuted, grabbing my jacket off of my bed, “He hasn’t asked me to be his girlfriend.”
            There was a knock at the door, and I turned to see Daniel apprehensively shifting his weight at the door.
            “You have a gentlemen caller, it seems.” He said nervously, looking up at my mother.
            She winked, “For me? Oh, you’re too kind.”
            I nudged her, and stood up carefully, checking my hair one last time before I walked down the stairs.
            Sasha stood, and I studied his dress code for my sake; he wore a pair of khakis, a white t-shirt and a dark button-up, opened. I was catching the 90’s vibe; very boy-next-door, very Dawson’s Creek.
            “Wear a helmet!” Daniel called, and as I closed the door, Sasha nudged me.
            “Told you.” He whispered.
            “Hush up.” I told him, and he turned toward me, “And to think, you knew how to treat a girl right once upon a time.”
            He smiled, “May I?” Reaching for my hand, I nodded and he lifted me inside.
            “Darn right.” I remarked, adjusting myself and, of course, grabbing my helmet.

            “Brother!”
            Nellie busted through the door, clamoring down the steps when she saw us. I couldn’t get over how much she loved her brother; having that kind of relationship with your siblings was pretty special.
            He lifted her up, and that was when I noticed the strength he managed to hide almost too well. I mean, he was a former athlete, so I would have expected it, but Sasha was just so gentle. The aggressiveness that I would have expected from someone who took on massive beatings on the pitch was void when I was around him. When he held my hand in the hallway, or touched my shoulder when we were standing at my locker, I couldn’t sense a malevolent bone in his body.
            Sasha hoisted her up on his hip, and asked “What’s up, Shorty?”
            “I got to feed the class pet today!” She flashed her smile, which I noticed had a vacancy it hadn’t before.
            I waved at Nellie, “Hey, did you know someone stole your tooth? It’s gone!”
            She laughed, shaking her head “No! I lost it!”
            Sasha’s eyes went comically wide, “Oh, no! Did Bowie Bunny steal it? We have to find it!”
            She twisted and laughed, “No! It fell out!”
            “You must have eaten too much candy.” He remarked, shaking his head, “I told you that Nerds would rot your teeth. Goober.” He started to tickle her, and while I opened the door for them, I heard Nellie shriek.
            In the back of the house, far off in the kitchen, I heard a voice call out.
            “Alexander Paul, if that noise is not followed by laughter, I will kick your butt all the way down Ashbury!” Mrs. Malone’s voice echoed. Sasha placed his sister on the ground, and she ran off into the living room.
            I turned and stared blankly at him before I asked, “Alexander?”
            He blushed, and I couldn’t believe that I left my camera at home.