The Girl Who Lives In My Garage • Jenlisa

twelve

It's 11:48, and I'm lying in bed, lights and TV off, pretending to be sound asleep, but in reality, I'm wide awake. Under the covers, I'm wearing jeans and a long-sleeve shirt picked out specifically for this occasion.

In exactly twelve minutes, my parents' alarm clock will sound. My mom will stumble her half-asleep self into my room, check to make sure that the lump in my bed is a living, breathing person, and then crawl back in her bed until the next alarm sounds at 2:30 a.m. At exactly 12:05 a.m., I will sneak downstairs and spend two hours and twenty minutes with Lisa before sneaking back in to catch some much-needed sleep.

At twenty seconds past 12:00, my bedroom door opens. So very predictable.

"Ouch," Mom mumbles at the same time something crunches. Probably a water bottle under her foot. "Jennie, I swear..."

I pretend to be asleep, breathing evenly for good measure. She stands over me for no longer than a second, and then she retreats, grumbling something about making me clean my room.

As soon as the clock rolls over to 12:05, I throw off my covers, grab my fleece, and head out of my room without stepping on anything, thank you very much. It's not that difficult. As soon as I'm in the garage, I can't help but smile. "Hello?" I say as I turn on the light.

Lisa stands against the wall near the Trans Am, smile on her face as well. "Hey. You ready for this?"

"We've got two hours and twenty minutes."

She opens the side door for me. "Then we better get going."

It's much colder than it was earlier in the day, so I jam my hands deep into my pockets. "How was your day?" I ask as we head toward the subdivision exit near Erma's Café.

"It was good. Read a little. Walked a lot."

A car approaches, and I duck my head in case it's a neighbor who knows me or my parents. But the car doesn't slow, and then it's just Lisa and me on the street again. "Sounds exciting."

She laughs. "I've had enough excitement for a lifetime. Boring isn't so bad."

"I'll take your word for it." I duck my head as another car's headlights sweep across us. Who are these people, and why aren't they at home, asleep?

"How was the rest of your school day?"

As we walk, I tell her about the pop quiz we had in fifth period, which I failed with flying colors, the fist fight that broke out in the hallway between fifth and sixth period, and the ridiculous math project that was assigned. By the time I finish answering her question, we're walking into Erma's.

There's a "Seat Yourself" sign near the door, so we pick a booth. Most of the tables are empty. There's a group of four guys talking and laughing, a couple sitting quietly, eating their food, and a tired-looking waitress refilling salt and pepper shakers. I shrug out of my fleece and rub at my nose, which is frozen even though the walk wasn't far.

A question about how Lisa survives the cold is on my lips when I notice that she is smiling at me. Not just smiling, actually, but grinning like a maniac. "What?" I ask, a little bit creeped out.

She shakes her head but doesn't stop smiling. "You."

"What about me?"

"You're wearing the necklace."

The smooth stone is cold against my skin. I finally braved up enough to wear it and purposely wore the shirt so she could see it. It didn't take long for her to notice. "And?"

"It's perfect. You're beautiful."

My cheeks warm. I'm far from perfect and too messed up to be beautiful. But Lisa makes me feel like that doesn't matter.