Authors: K. Larsen
Annabelle
“You gave me strength gave me hope for a lifetime. I never was satisfied”
~ Save Me, Nicki Minaj
Annabelle shifted in her seat. Her left butt cheek was numb and tingling painfully.
“Do you think the ache of not being able to have your own child is the same as losing a child?”
Jezebel stiffened in her seat. Her shoulders pulled up and back and she crossed her arms over her chest protectively.
“I, obviously, couldn’t say.” Jezebel’s words were devoid of emotion, which was odd for her. Annabelle let it go.
“Is it weird that I like hanging out with you?” she asked.
Jezebel cocked her head, tucked her hair behind an ear and thought on Annabelle’s question. “You and me, we’re searching for the same light, desperate for a remedy for this ailment.”
“What ailment?”
“Grief,” she answered plainly, as if it were the most apparent thing ever.
“So what? That makes us kindred spirits or something?”
“Something like that,” Jezebel answered, a half-smile emerging.
Annabelle slouched in her seat going over everything in her mind that she knew of Celeste and Gabriel. “I feel bad for Celeste. The whole baby thing and weird throwing-up thing. She doesn’t deserve it,” she concluded.
“What makes anyone deserve anything dear?”
Annabelle shrugged. “I guess nothing.”
Jezebel caught her gaze and held it firmly. “Who’s to say that we don’t get what we deserve?”
“No one. It just seems like . . . like Celeste should have more luck. She’s this super nice person who never did anything wrong.”
Jezebel turned her head and stared out the window wearing a lost expression. “What if the greater plan for her life was just because she hadn’t done anything wrong . . . yet?”
Annabelle fidgeted in her seat. “What? Like fate is a determined based on what it knows what will happen in the future? So she’s being punished in the now for sins she will commit later on?” Annabelle gaffed. “No, I don’t believe in that.”
Jezebel shrugged and ran her fingers through her hair. “How would one ever know though? Can you prove that’s
not
how things work?”
“Of course not. But, it’s so farfetched. Think about it, there are a million choices you’re hit with in a lifetime. If fate punished you for future happenings, that implies that no matter what choice you made, it would always lead to the same outcome. There’d be no free will.”
Jezebel clapped her hands together. The sound echoed in the room. “Brava, darling. I love it when you get riled up. You’re so feisty when you put that brain to work. I love a gal with spunk.” Her eyes sparkled.
Annabelle smirked. “Are you always playing devil’s advocate?”
“Do you really care?” Jezebel asked.
Annabelle thought about it for a moment. She laughed. She didn’t care. Jezebel challenged her, made the dull flicker in her spark to life. “No,” she answered.
Nodding, Jezebel changed the subject. “Mark was asking about you.”
“What?” Annabelle squeaked as a warm swarm of butterflies came to life in her belly.
“Mark was asking about you.”
Annabelle rolled her eyes and leaned forward in her chair. “I heard you,” she clarified. “What did he ask?”
“Oh, this and that,” Jezebel answered flippantly.
“Jez! Come on.”
“He asked what you were like, how old you were and other drab questions.” Jezebel waved her hand in the air as if swatting away a pesky fly.
Annabelle, on the edge of her seat, could not tolerate Jezebel’s lax attitude. This was a big deal. “Are you going to give me details or just leave me hanging like it doesn’t matter?”
Jezebel laughed loudly. “You like him.”
“I thought we established that when I all but drooled and stuttered around him. Don’t think I didn’t know it was you who stole my wallet.” She speared Jezebel with a pointed look.
“I thought it was a rather brilliant move,” Jezebel smirked. Annabelle widened her eyes and said nothing. She waited Jezebel out. Silence sat heavy between them.
“Alright, alright! I told him you were a lovely young woman nearing graduation and that he’d better be nothing short of a gentleman to you.”
Annabelle smiled, shaking her head at her friend. “How you manage to answer everything without giving up any real information is a mystery.” She rose, taking her bag with her and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you next week.”
Annabelle ambled slowly down the corridor toward the entrance hoping to see Mark. As she checked out with reception she heard her name called. Spinning around toward the sound she smiled as Mark skidded to a stop a few feet from her.
“Hey,” he said. He wore a half-smile that made him look dopey, but adorable.
“Hi.” She adjusted her bag strap on her shoulder.
“I know you take the bus, but, I’m done in like, five, and I thought I’d offer you a ride home,” he rushed his words. “It’s probably quicker than the bus.”
Annabelle wanted to accept. “I’m not really supposed to,” she said instead.
“Supposed to what?” he asked.
“Supposed to . . .” her words faded. Was getting a ride home against her parents’ rule? It was a gray area, they’d never really discussed it. Mark’s eyes burned bright with hope and it melted her. She wanted to get to know him. “You know what, sure. I’d love a ride.” Impossibly, his grin grew.
“’Kay, give me five.” He turned, his sneakers squeaking on the floor, and disappeared into the employee room.
Annabelle plopped down into one of the reception area chairs while she waited, an insistent flutter residing in her belly. She jammed her hand into the largest outside pocket and fished out her tinted lip balm. It was all she had on her and it would have to do.
Mark emerged from the employee break room quickly. She stood and smiled shyly. “So, you ready?” he asked.
“Yup.” What was it with her and that response? She wanted to plant her palm firmly to her forehead, but refrained. Mark led them to a jacked-up truck in the parking lot.
“This is . . . large,” she commented. Mark laughed. It was boisterous and confident.
“Yeah. It is.” Planting a foot on the chrome foot rail he tugged her door open for her.
“Need help getting in?”
“I think I got it,” she said, stepping onto the running board. She hoisted herself into the passenger seat and blushed. That wasn’t the most graceful maneuver. Mark closed her door and jogged around the front of the truck to his side.
“So, first, where am I going and second, tell me about yourself,” he said.
Annabelle gave him her address. He nodded and started the truck.
“Why are you doing that?” he asked as he put the truck in reverse.
She strapped on her seat belt, confused. “Doing what?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Sitting against the door as far away from me as possible. I don’t bite.” He grinned as she blushed. She looked to her right. Annabelle grimaced, unnerved. Yep, she had wedged herself against the door. Immediately, she slid over a few inches, forcing herself to relax. Annabelle pulled the elastic band from her ponytail and shook her hair free. It fell past her shoulders in wavy strands. She ran her fingers through it and twisted in her seat, trying to appear comfortable and at ease. Mostly, she tried to keep her eyes off of Mark and on anything else. She concentrated on the scenery out the window. At the speed he was going, the sky and the trees melted into each other.
“I’m not sure what you want to know,” she finally said.
“Anything is a good start.”
“How old are you?” she asked.
Mark cocked his head to the side. “I’m twenty, but I feel like that says nothing about you,” he joked. Annabelle blushed, again. Yes she was keeping count. How was it that he made her feel screwed up tight with nerves without doing anything at all?
“I’m eighteen. A senior at Walsh. I don’t know what to tell you that Jezebel hasn’t.”
Mark smiled. “You’re cute. How ‘bout this, I’ll ask questions and you answer.”
Annabelle nodded. “Sounds easy enough.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Gray,” she answered without hesitation.
“No one likes gray,” he chuckled and shot her a look from the corner of his eye.
“Someone does.”
Mark tried to hide his amused expression but Annabelle caught it. “Okay, what’s your favorite restaurant?” he asked.
“Walters. Best eggplant parm in three towns,” she gushed. She hadn’t been in ages but years ago her family had gone once a week for family dinner night out. She’d always loved it there.
“Eggplant parm, huh? You vegetarian?” he asked, eyes cutting to hers.
“No,” she shook her head. “If you’d had it, you’d understand my sentiment.”
“How about I try it with you, Friday,” he stated boldly. She thought she noticed the barest hint of nervousness in his voice though.
Annabelle sighed. “I can’t.”
Mark snapped his eyes to hers. “Please don’t be one of those chicks who says ‘I don’t date.’”
“Har, har, no . . . I’d love to, but I’m grounded until I leave for college in August. I literally
can’t
date.” She tilted her head to the side and her unruly dark hair fell over her forehead, veiling her eyes.
“Oh,” he said, brows knit together. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Annabelle laughed. “Yeah.”
“You’re eighteen and grounded,” he stated.
“That’s accurate.”
“So what’d you do?” he asked. His candor surprised her.
Annabelle looked out the window. “I’d rather not get into that.”
“Well, how am I supposed to wait until August to take you out?” He flashed a friendly smile, his dimples popping.
Annabelle flushed and bit her lip to keep from blurting out something ridiculous. His question caught her off guard. After a moment she finally spoke. “Why would you wait?”
“I hear you and Jezebel talking. I see you, all smiles and stuff when you’re with her. Jezebel’s a good shit. Spunky and funny and, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re hot. I’d want to ask you out for that alone.” He cringed at his own words. “But knowing that you also have substance makes me curious.”
“Substance?” She turned to meet his gaze.
“You spend every Tuesday at Glenview, you sit with someone who’s not related to you for
hours.
It shows you’re a good person—that you’ve got a lot going on in there.” He pointed to her head. For a moment she felt guilty, like she was lying to him. What he said was true
now—
but that’s not how her time with Jezebel started out.
“I think maybe you have the wrong perception of me. I go because I don’t have a choice. Meeting Jezebel was just lucky. Really lucky. If it wasn’t for her I’d be doomed to wear a hairnet and work in the kitchen.”
Mark considered her for a moment as they pulled onto her street. “Well, I suppose you’d still look hot in a hairnet.”
Annabelle chuckled. “You’re funny.”
“You’re a puzzle,” he responded with a warmhearted smile. “One I’d like to put together.” Annabelle blushed—again.
“Pull over here,” she said, not wanting him to stop at her house.
If her mother was home, and saw, it could mean the end of rides with Mark. “Okay. Listen, I’m just going to shoot straight,” Annabelle started as he pulled to the side and put the truck in park. “I got in a bit of trouble. I’m serving six months of community service, which have turned out to be six months spent with Jezebel, so it isn’t so bad really. My parents also piled on their own punishment to my court-ordered one. No going out. No friends over. No phone and very limited laptop use. I’m rambling . . .” she stated flustered. “I guess what I’m trying to say is . . . I have no life right now. I’m happy you’re interested but, outside of possibly Facebooking you for an hour a night or seeing you Tuesdays at Glenview, I’m inaccessible,” she finished, and frowned.
“Whoa. Ramble doesn’t seem like the right term . . . rant maybe,” he said. Annabelle leaned back in her seat and bit her lip. “I’m cool with that. I can give you a ride home Tuesdays—if you want, that is,” he finished.
He reached out and took her hand in his. Annabelle noticed the warmth of his fingers on hers. His smell floating in the cab of the truck. The way his eyes held hers right then. She wasn’t sure how to deal with the scandalous thoughts her mind was throwing at her. Mark’s hair looked towel-dried and annoyingly attractive all messy, his face clean shaven, and the red T-shirt he wore not only accentuated his tanned arms but highlighted his muscular physique. She was suddenly and uncomfortably aware of the long, bare curve of his neck, his broad shoulders. She turned and smiled at him as her stomach dropped a few feet and landed somewhere in the vicinity of the floor. She pulled herself together as much as possible. Raising a perfectly plucked brow, she smiled and said, “I want.”
~
***
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