the girl in the green house » david dobrik au

three

cross your heart, won't tell no other
and though i can't recall your face
i still got love for you

"Thank you for driving me," I grinned at him, my head still feeling hazy. I reached across the center console to hug him as best I could with the obstacle in between us. "I think they liked you."

"I don't know about that."

"They did," I confirmed. "Here. Let me see your cell phone."

He unlocked it for me and passed it over. I went to his contacts and put my number in under Lulu. I handed it back to him and said, "There. Now you have my number. Call me if you ever want to hang out. Don't text me; my mother goes through my texts sometimes."

"Okay. I'll remember that. Thank you for inviting me."

"Well, I wasn't gonna let you sit at home alone all summer. That's called southern hospitality. Get used to it."

"To be honest, I think you're the first person I've met here with southern hospitality," he joked, and I nodded, sure that wasn't far from the truth.

"I'll let you get home. Have a nice night," I smiled, cracking open the door and climbing out. I leaned back down to add, "Make sure you tell Maude I said hello, and that I'm picking up my mother's clothes tomorrow."

"You're coming to the shop?"

"I am," I nodded. "Will you be there?"

"Probably. I'm trying to help out in the front," he explained. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow, then," I raised my eyebrows, shutting the door behind me and then making my way up the hill, sending him a quick wave over my shoulder to let him know I was safe once I got to the top. I snuck back in the same way I snuck out, through the back door and avoiding the fourth step from the top (the one that always creaked).

No one ever suspected a thing, or if they did, no one cared. I had a feeling my dad knew. He also knew my night time of freedom gave him a day time of listening to my mother, which was better for us all. As long as no one else knew about the mayor's kid sneaking around to drink or smoke, everything was fine.

(And yes, as if my life couldn't get any more cliché, my family were descendants of the founders of Calhoun and my dad, who married into the family, got an easy run at mayor. Talk about nepotism at its finest.)

I went to bed after I showered and woke up to do the same thing again the next day. I knew my mother wasn't home; Wednesdays were the days she went into the city with her girlfriends for brunch, stayed a little too long at whatever restaurant they had chosen for the week, then hung out at the country club about ten miles out of town for the rest of the day. They usually got drunk and played golf, and she didn't get back home until well after midnight.

Still, I put on a dress. It felt almost sacrilegious to leave my house in the daylight without one. I left my hair how it naturally dried, though, and only put on enough makeup to make me look presentable.

Wednesdays were freeing days for me. It felt like the only days that I could leave the house without being judged—with my mother gone, that meant all the other snotty, high class mothers were gone, too. They travelled in packs. No Kopfs, no Smiths, no McAtees, no Witteks (who I avoided at all costs). I could do anything. I could be anything.

But I stuck to the basics, mostly, just in case. Raspberries, coffee, river. After that, I biked to Dobrik Stitches, where David looked up and smiled at me upon hearing the bell ring over the door.

He was wearing a gray t-shirt and some regular jeans, I noticed once he stood up to hug me. Maude shuffled her way out shortly after, her hands on her hips like her back was hurting. Her eyes lit up when she saw me, and she opened her arms wide for a hug.

"I heard you'd be coming by today. Haven't seen you in a while."

"I know. Spring is pretty slow for the great ladies of Calhoun, but now that it's summer, I'll be here for my mother's dresses a lot more," I chuckled to myself. The summer meant loads of country club parties and fancy dinners that never failed to make me feel alienated. "Are they ready?"

"Yes ma'am, let me go get them."

"I'll go get them," David said, spinning on his heel to enter the mysterious backroom.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a grandson?" I asked, and she frowned.

"Well, Lulu, you've met him before. You don't remember?"

"I don't," I shook my head. "When?"

"He was here for George's funeral. You two played together on the playground after it was over. I was sitting there watching, trying to get away from all those people pretending they gave a shit. Well, I remember it clear as day. He told you he didn't live around here, and you begged him to take you with him when he left," she sighed, like the very thought hit a soft spot for her. "A couple days after that, you came with your mother to pick up a few dresses, and you threw a fit when I told you he was gone. Said he promised to take you with him. I swear, the next few days, I cried less about George being dead and more about you being stuck in Calhoun. Nothing so sweet should be stuck in Calhoun. Calhoun takes the light out of people."

"I don't remember any of that," and that was true, but why was my throat clogging up just thinking about it?

"I always knew you'd find each other eventually. That was the sweetest day of friendship I ever saw," she smiled reminiscently. "I'm glad you spoke to him, Lu. I was worried about him being here all summer and not making any friends."

"He's real sweet," I smiled. "You shouldn't worry about him."

"Is it under Calhoun?" David returned with a garment bag of dresses slung over his shoulder. "Margaret Calhoun?"

"That's her," I told him.

"Miss Emmerson's been coming to me so long that I haven't changed the name of her account yet," Maude explained. "You want me to charge the card on file?"

"Yes, ma'am. Is this all of 'em?"

"Should be!" she replied. "David, why don't you drive her home? It'll be hard to ride on that bike with all these dresses."

"Oh, no, if you need him, I've kind of mastered the art of riding with a full basket," I tried to reject her offer, but she sent me, then David, a pointed look.

"David. Take her home, please."

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded, pulling keys out from under the counter and twirling them on his middle finger. With a hug goodbye and a promise I'd return soon, I followed him out to his car. He gently set the dresses down in the backseat, somehow fit my bike into the trunk, and blushed when he saw me staring at him, "What?"

"If you don't want to drive me home, it's okay. I'm fine with my bike."

"Get in the car, Lu."

"Okay," I giggled, pulling open the door and sliding in. "I love this car. This is what I'm gonna ask my mama for."

"She'll probably buy it straight off Maude."

"Maude wouldn't sell it," I sighed. "Too much meaning. Hey, did you know we've met before? When we were little?"

"Um," and the blush only grew, creeping down his neck like a coyote to a chicken out of the coop. "Yeah. I remember you."

"Why didn't you say nothing?"

"You obviously didn't remember me," he awkwardly laughed. "I mean, it was, like, one day. I wouldn't expect you to remember me."

"I don't, but Maude says I cried when you left me," I half laughed at that, the pain of knowing even childhood me felt trapped in this godforsaken town putting a damper on my mood. "You can't leave me again, David."

He smiled, this one coming much easier to him than the last one. "I won't. Promise."

i think you should come live with me
and we can be pirates
then you won't have to cry

Ok ive had a rough night but writing this chapter literally made me cry so i hope u all like it

Xoxo abby