The Best Week of My Life (9 page)

“You’re perfect to
me
.” I broke into his thoughts and stepped closer. “All I want is someone to like me for who I am, stupid mistakes and all.”

“Just
like
?” he asked.

My face heated, and I glanced away.

He captured my chin and tipped it forward and up. “Don’t you see? The problem I’m having isn’t with you; it’s with me. I want more than
liking
you, Daphne. I want to fall in love. Head over heels crazy in love … with you. And …” He paused. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

I could see he was about to say something big, something he’d been working toward for a while, so I kept quiet.

“And I think I’ve already started. That’s what scares me the most.”

He’d lowered his hands, and we were about a foot apart. I moved closer. I would touch him, let him know it was okay to be scared because he mattered to me. Let him know that just like he’d keep me outta holes, I’d keep him from doubting himself.

But right then something slimy snaked across my palm, and my chest closed up. I opened and shut my mouth, a scream wanting to emerge but lack of oxygen preventing it. Then I dropped the shell and the sight of a slimy creature crawling over the sand completely took my breath. Gasping for air, the darkness swam around me, and next thing I knew, the lights went out.

I awoke to a brilliant blue sky, not a cloud in it, and I turned my head. The donut lady floated in the pool. I watched her butt bob up and down, thinking if you let the air out of her she’d deflate and sink.

Then the seat beneath me moved, and the steady thrub-thrub of Carter’s heartbeat entered my brain, and the feel of his chest and smell of his skin. The strength of his hand cradling my neck.

I twisted to see his face, and he was looking down at me.

“I’m alive?” I asked.

He smiled. “Yes. You fainted.”

Fainted. Why? A shiver rustled through my frame. The slimy thing.

“What was that?” I asked. “I thought it was just a shell, but it wasn’t.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, but trust you to find it.”

I laughed then. “I did. Didn’t I?”

He nodded.

And it came to me we were at the pool. “Did you carry me here?”

“Yes, you were heavy, too.”

I giggled. “That’s because of all my parents fed me yesterday. There wasn’t anything else to do and my mom hates waste. ‘Waste not,’ she always says. We have to eat every crumb before we leave. The only thing she’ll ever leave behind is mayonnaise. After all, who can eat an entire jar of mayo in a week?”

“Henry,” Carter said.

I stared at him. “An entire jar?”

“Yep. He uses so much, the meat slides off the bread.”

This made us both laugh. We quieted eventually, and I had to ask, since I’d fainted during our conversation. “Are we … I mean … what are we?”

He pulled me to him and laid his cheek on my head. “We’re Carter and Daphne, and I have one more day to kiss you.”

“You … you do? You … are?”

He smiled. “Yep, and I can’t wait.”

This surprised me. He’d gone from doubting himself to wanting to kiss me?

“But … I thought.”

“I’m going to do it,” he said, as if I wasn’t speaking. “I’m letting go and flying wherever this takes me.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but evidently it was symbolic to him somehow, so I assumed it had to do with his fears and didn’t remark.

“And that means you want to kiss me?”

“I’ve always wanted that,” he said. “I wanted to do that on day one.”

“Y-you did?” My mind was spinning round and round.

“Yep. But you wanted me to feel something. Remember?”

I
had
said that. He was right. I widened my eyes further. “Does this mean you
do
feel something?”

“This means …” He stood to his feet, swinging me into his arms. I threw one around his neck with a squeal.

“What are you doing?”

“This means … look out below!” And with that he took a running leap toward the pool and we both plunged in.

***

It was something from a dream. Carter Pruitt liked me, genuinely liked me, and had no wish to ever be any different. I couldn’t believe it. How had this happened? Something so wonderful and grand, and only in the space of seven days. Well, six because he’d decided he liked me on Thursday. But when Friday rolled around, I knew the truth of it because we’d stayed up super late Thursday night, ‘til almost midnight. Then he was back early Friday morning.

We spent the entire day together, never leaving each other’s side. We went swimming until my skin was burnt and my hair stiff with salt. We drank way to much soda and ate too many fatty snacks (that half was my mom’s fault because she kept pushing them off on us.)

Come late afternoon, I was getting nervous because he’d said he would kiss me, and I’d asked for sunset. I knew he’d keep his word. What I hadn’t counted on, however, was an audience. The one night I wanted the beach all to us, to be kissed with complete abandon by the cutest boy I’d ever met, and my parents decided to come outside, along with Carter’s mom and her boyfriend. Worse yet, they decided to follow us down to the water. Of all things.

Carter didn’t appear to notice or care. He simply held my hand and dragged me toward the edge, standing by my side beneath the florescent colors of the sky and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. The sun turned orange, a giant ball, and slipped lower and lower. It was beautiful. Stunning even. If I wasn’t expecting anything else, I’d say it was the perfect ending to the perfect week with the perfect guy, but I was, so I glanced at him.

He turned to me then, taking my hands in his. “I’ve thought this out,” he said. “I prayed even, and asked for the prettiest sunset ever, just for you.”

My heart filled.

“And look,” he jerked his chin toward the water. “He answered. It’s a sign.”

“Of … of what?” I asked, conscious our parents were back there and could probably hear him.

“Of the future. People say you can’t fall in love in a week. They say two people who’ve walked past each other all the time can’t see each other different in a few days. They say romance is dead and things take time and life is a struggle. ‘Nothing comes easy.’ But, Daphne, they’re wrong.”

He moved his hands to my face, turning it towards him. “So wrong. I want to ask you something, and I want you to say yes.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Will you go out with me Monday? On a real date. I’ll pick you up, we’ll go to eat and then play putt-putt, just like we planned, and we’ll do it in front of everyone. Say yes.”

“Yes,” I choked.

“And then will you go out with me as much as possible for the rest of the summer, and be my girl next year? Mine.”

I couldn’t speak. There weren’t any words left in me for what he was saying. So I nodded.

He brought his mouth closer. “You wanted me to feel something, and I didn’t know if I could. But I was wrong. I’m crazy about you. Crazy, out of my mind crazy.”

And his lips met mine, a gentle brush, then an insistent pressure, one which sent me flying to the highest place. My arm about his neck, I pressed to him, and he returned the motion. He tasted of salt and sweat and sea. I tasted of sun and lotion and tears. Tears which I couldn’t stop, which flowed between us, and fueled this magic.

He stopped at last, and breathless, we both stared at each other.

“That was the first,” he said. “Get used to it.”

I collapsed against him, my cheek to his neck, and my parents caught my eye.

Mom had a hand over her mouth, where I could see a smile, and Dad, he was beaming. I then glanced at Carter’s mom and her boyfriend. They were holding hands. She smiled and nodded sharp.

I closed my eyes. “It won’t take much,” I said.

He ran a hand through the tangled mess of my hair.

“What won’t take much?” he asked.

“To fall in love.”

He chuckled. “No, it won’t.”

***

The restaurant was a hangout for kids at our school. On any night during the summer and on weekends during the school year, you could find a crowd of people there you knew. Monday night was no exception. The place was packed. The lot full. The tables inside even fuller.

Carter took my hand and led me through the double doors, and I swear you could hear the crowd give a collective gasp. A giggle rippled through me, but I stifled it. No need to look silly.

He took me by the shoulders and steered me toward the front. “What do you want?” he asked.

I studied the order board. “I’ll have the number two value meal,” I said. “No onions.” I couldn’t recall us talking about onions, but we’d talked about everything else.

He nodded. “You sure this is where you want to go? We could go somewhere nicer.”

I smiled at him. “I’m sure. We’ll do that next time.”

His lips turned up at the phrase
next time
.

“Hey, Daphne.”

I twisted my head around and looked into the face of a couple girls I knew. I glanced back at Carter. “Can you order? I’m going to go talk to them.”

He inclined his head, so I slipped away.

I came to a halt before the girls; Sherry and Karen were their names. “What’s up?” I asked.

Sherry looked past me at Carter, then back at my face. “You and Carter are … going out?”

I smiled. “He’s crazy about me.”

Their faces changed, eyes growing wide. I know that found that hard to believe. I still did, too.

“How did that happen?” Sherry asked.

“Well,” I said. “I really should write it all down because it’s the strangest story. It all began with the absolute worst day of my life.”

“Do tell,” Karen said.

“It’d take too long,” I said. “But I’ll think about it.”

Sherry leaned over Karen and lowered her voice. “Is it true … what Carrie said about him being … you know, moody?”

That kinda made me mad. I didn’t like rumors, and especially not about Carter. So I wanted to squelch it right away. “You can’t believe her. I mean, look. Carter Pruitt likes
me
? Me, Daphne, trips-over-her-own-feet, Merrill? Does that sound like he’s moody to you?”

“You have a point,” Sherry said. “She always was kinda desperate, I thought.”

“True,” Karen said. “But did he
really
say he was crazy about you?”

Carter came up to us just then, a tray in his hand.

“Ask him yourself,” I said.

They were all embarrassed at that, their faces turning red.

“Ask him what?” Carter asked.

“If you’re crazy about me.”

He gave a laugh. “I can prove that.” He set the tray down on the table and swept me backward in his arms. He then kissed me soundly.

I stood back to my feet after, a little discombobulated. I hadn’t expected him to do that.

He picked the tray back up. “I’m hungry, Daph. Let’s find a table.” He took my hand and tripping after him, I glanced over my shoulder. They were still staring at us, eyes popping.

I raised and lowered my shoulders, then catching up with him, slipped into a booth. He scooted in beside me. But he hesitated before passing out the food.

“What is it?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “That’s not right.”

“What’s not right?”

“That kiss. That’s not how crazy I am about you.”

“It’s … it’s not?”

He faced me and gripped the sides of my head. “No, this is.”

Lord, help me, that was the best kiss ever.

FROM THE AUTHOR

This story was birthed out of the title. I saw the words, with “worst day” crossed out, in my head one morning before rising. Then I wrote the first portion, Daphne falling down on her face at Carter’s feet, and left it alone for quite some time.

It wasn’t until I heard the comment, “A boy and a girl can’t fall in love in a week’s time,” that I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted this story to be exactly that. A boy and a girl who’d never seen each other as a romantic interest before yet find in each other something rare and precious. Something to be developed over time. That special thing that leads to happiness and a rich future.

But I also wanted it to be a story without a plot. I like putting strange twists to my tales. I like having subplots with antagonists who are after ill-begotten gain. However, for Carter and Daphne, the only antagonist is themselves. Daphne with her disbelief that anyone would find in her something precious and to be loved. Carter with his fears that he’d not be enough.

Because that is usually how things go. Teens are full of angst, indecision, and doubts. They are also whole-hearted, more apt to dive right in than to hold back, and it is for teens that I write YA. Not for the adults. If Mom and Dad enjoy it, then that’s great. If their daughter can read it to them and not be embarrassed, that’s even better.

This is FEEL GOOD ROMANCE, after all.

But the best compliment comes when the girl says to me, “I want a boy just like him.” And I say, you can have him, sweetheart. Somewhere out there is a Carter Pruitt just for you. Never give up believing that.

I would like to thank author Laura Marshall for her editing of the story and her constant encouragement. You’re an amazing person.

Suzanne D. Williams

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Suzanne D. Williams is a native Floridian, wife, mother, and dachshund owner who loves photography and writing. She writes a monthly column for Steves-Digicams.com on the subject of digital photography. She also does graphic design for self-publishing authors.

To contact Suzanne and read her latest work visit:
http://suzanne-williams-photography.blogspot.com
or on Facebook at:  
http://www.facebook.com/suzannedwilliamsauthor

Also by Suzanne D. Williams:             

Nonfiction
:

Fearless
- Suzanne's testimony of freedom from fear

Young Adult Short Stories:

Christmas Angel