Something More Page 7

  “That’s a good question,” he said, more to himself than her, and dropping the conversation with that question hanging in the air.

  Chapter 8

  “Hurry up; hurry up! Just get in there; I’m about to go!” Nyla groaned. She felt like she was about to burst.

  “I’m going as fast as I can. I can’t turn in front of traffic. Think about something else.” He leaned forward, watching the cars zoom by them in the two lanes.

  “Jamison!” she pleaded, bouncing her legs up and down. They were fifteen miles outside of town, and he was trying turn into the gas station. Nyla had suddenly needed to go to the bathroom after they passed the last gas station. She’d been crying about it for twenty minutes. She was such a girl, he thought. Finally, he made the turn and pulled up to the pump. She opened the door and ran into the quick stop before he even put his truck in park. He moved at a slower pace as he filled up the tank. Inside, he got a fountain drink and stood in line. Nyla joined him with her bottled water in hand.

  “Not getting a big gulp this time? I told you to take it easy on that last one,” he teased as he draped his arm over her shoulders. She sighed dramatically and leaned into him slightly. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, still smiling at her.

  “Jamison? Man, is that you?” He looked up to the clerk. It was his buddy Wesley. Nyla waited for him to remove his arm and act like he didn’t know her. He didn’t.

  “Hey Wes, How’s it going?” He took Nyla’s drink and put it on the counter with his. “Pump five, too.” Wesley rang them up.

  “It’s good. How’s Notre Dame?” Wesley looked from Jamison to Nyla and suddenly recognized her.

  “I’m actually in Chicago, at Roosevelt. You knew I didn’t go to Notre Dame.” He took his arm away from her and reached into his pocket and took out his wallet to pay.

  “I must have forgot man, that’s—interesting.” Wesley’s gaze rested on Nyla. She took her drink.

  “I’ll be in the car.” She rolled her eyes to Jamison and left. They both watched her leave.

  “Dude, are you hitting that?” Wesley asked as soon as the door shut behind her.

  “Come on! We’re just friends. What the hell man?” Jamison shook his head and leaned against the counter.

  “College looks good on Nyla Anderson. I’d hit that. Definitely so if you’re not, hook me up.” Wesley watched her butt as she walked to Jamison’s truck and climbed in.

  “Not going to happen.” Jamison straightened up ready to say goodbye.

  “You know she always was a little hottie, but now she’s down right on fire!”

  “She’s too good for you; hate to say it, besides she has a boyfriend.” He turned and looked at her profile in the car. Wesley shrugged, “What happens in Morgantown. . .” He wiggled his eyebrows letting the slogan fall.

  “Call me later; we’ll hang.” Jamison turned to leave.

  “Only if Nyla’s gonna be there,” Wesley called as he rang up the next person in line.

  Jamison climbed into his truck, and they were on their way, the last leg of one of the best road trips he’d ever taken. He thought to himself that he could get used to these trips with her over the next four years. Maybe he’d convince her to leave her car home next year, and he’d be her personal chauffeur in the city too. Wait, he only intended to go to Roosevelt long enough to figure out his pull to Nyla, not spend the entire four years there with her. He had to get to the bottom of this pull or whatever it was, and soon. He furrowed his eyebrows as he contemplated.

  “What are you thinking about so seriously over there?” Nyla leaned against the door and watched him; he suddenly realized he didn’t know how long she had been watching him.

  “I just, err—” He looked at her as he pulled up to the stoplight. “I just realized I messed up two of my answers on that Spanish test,” he shrugged.

  “Jamison, don’t worry about it; I’m sure you did fine.” She reached over and patted his shoulder.

  “Thanks, I guess I need to leave that in Chicago, huh?” he asked as he leaned his head against the headrest and looked into her eyes. There was something in the way he looked at her that made Nyla both want to look away and pull him to her at the same time. She was sure that she was reading more into it, but she couldn’t look away from him. She tried to convince herself that she was just tired because she had never wanted to comfort him or hold him close before. A car behind them honked; pulling him out of the trance in which her eyes had entrapped them. They jumped, looked at the light, and then looked at each and laughed.

  All too soon he pulled into her driveway. Both her sister and mom’s cars were gone.

  “Welcome home, Nyla,” she said under her breath.

  “You want me to come in for a while and hang?” He asked hopefully, maybe too hopefully, he thought.

  “It’s OK. I have to unpack, and I told Ethan I’d call him today.” She opened the door and got out. He did too. He went to the back, got her bags, and followed her inside all the way to her bedroom.

  “Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve been in here,” he said as he took it all in. It no longer looked like the room of a tweenager, but an actual teenage girl. Still it didn’t feel like it fit Nyla. Her apartment was her now, not this room she grew up in.

  “Yeah.” She smiled as she took her laptop from his shoulder, brushing her fingers against his neck, causing electricity to pulse through his entire body.

  “So, I’m sure Lindsey is going to have a party tomorrow night if you want to come over.” He ran his hand over the back of his head. Why was he suddenly nervous?

  “Yeah, she has that party every year, right?” Nyla took her suitcase and opened it on her bed. He leaned against the doorjam, putting his hands in his pockets and watching her as she began to put her clothes away.

  “It will probably be the same crowd as every other year, so there won’t be much going on.” He tried for casual.

  “Maybe,” she smiled, but she had no intention of making an appearance. Jamison knew that “maybe.” He’d heard it enough times over the past three months. Nyla, do you want to grab lunch? Maybe. Hey, Nyla, want to study for anthropology? Maybe. Nyla, do you think the Pacers will win tonight? Maybe. It didn’t matter what he asked, she always answered maybe, which meant no.

  “You don’t have to humor me. I’m trying here Nyla.” She looked away to avoid his eyes. He stepped over to her side, taking her arm, turning her, forcing to face him.

  “What’s wrong? I thought we were friends. I actually would like to see you this week, and I think. . .” He paused, searching her eyes. He was too close to her. She tried to pull away; she tried to at least look away, but he held her firmly. “That you want to spend time with me too. But now here we are, back where we were that first day in the gallery. I don’t like that place. I’d rather be where we were earlier at the diner and in the car, even holding hands.” He traced his fingers down the length of both her arms, giving her goosebumps along the way and gripping both of her hands in his. She only nodded yes to him, unable to form sentences. It was as if coming inside the town’s limits brought back all the insecurities that she had left behind in the fall.

  “Then if you don’t want to do the party, we can do something else. Let’s not ruin these last few months. You are more important to me than this entire town. So let me know,” he spoke so sincerely that she almost let herself believe him. “I still want to make things right between us. Let me do that?” He squeezed her hands.

  “OK,” she replied. He nodded his head in agreement with her.

  “I’ll call you later,” he whispered, and let go of her hands.

  “OK.” She let out a deep breath, relieved it was over. It seemed like he took that as a cue, and faster than she realized it was happening or could even object, he pulled her into a hug. Just as quickly as it began, it was over. He stepped away, refusing to look at her.

  “OK,” he said as he turned and left. When she heard the front door open and close,
she slumped on her bed. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Did she just agree to a hang session or a date with Jamison? Did he really just say all those things to her? What did it all mean?

  Chapter 9

  Nyla heard her door creak open the next morning. She had been awake for hours; sleep had teased her overnight, and now it was morning. She heard the floorboards creak under the bare feet of her intruder. The covers raised behind her, and the bed sank down as a body slid in beside her.

  “Nadia, all you had to say was ‘are you awake?’” She groaned and rolled over on her back. Nadia pulled the covers over their heads, using her elbow to make a peak between their faces and resting her hand close to Nyla’s nose.

  “But this is more fun, or it would have been if I’d gotten to wake you up.” Nadia crinkled her freckled nose. “What’s new? How was your trip with your nemesis?” Nyla knew that whatever she said would get back to Lindsey, probably before her bedroom door shut, and to Jamison probably before she made it to the shower.

  “It was OK. We took our time, got breakfast, and he even helped me carry my things up to my room. All in all, I think the reprogramming the science department is doing on him at the university is working. He’s almost human.” Nadia laughed at Nyla’s joke. That was a good sign. It was a shame she couldn’t tell her real feelings to her sister. But Nadia was a spy whether it was intentional or not, and she couldn’t be trusted.

  “Well, Lindsey said you have to come to the party tonight. Everyone is going to be there.” Nadia examined her nails, almost crossing her eyes because they were so close to her face.

  “I think we’ll be doing something else.” Nyla braced herself for the impact.

  “We?”

  “Yeah, Jamison wants to hang, so I though he, Dex, and Emma could come over.” Safety in numbers.

  “Whoa, wait.” She flung the covers from their heads and sat up. “Jamison is going to hang with you, Dex, and Emma?”

  “Well, we haven’t ironed out the plans.” Actually, no one had been told the plans she’d thought of around 4.00 am. “But he said he wanted to hang today.” She realized any explanation was lost on her sister. She was still hung up on the fact that Jamison, Dex, and Emma would be in the same room together. To be honest, Nyla wans’t sure if that would happen.

  “So is this like a double date? Because Dex and Emma are together, you know?” Nadia was so stumped that she was speaking stupid, the actual language of Stupid.

  “Yes—no, I mean, I know they’re together, but Jamison and I are definitely not together. I have a boyfriend; remember Ethan?” Nyla had to remind herself of that fact a lot since yesterday.

  “And it’s no secret that they hated him in high school, mostly because of you.” Nadia never stood up for or defended her sister when Jamison went after her in high school. She somehow valued Lindsey’s friendship more than her sister’s honor. That stopped hurting though, and was OK with Nyla because she didn’t have much use for her sister anyway.

  “Well, good luck with all that.” She waved her hands around Nyla like she was a mess.

  “Do you have a reason for being here?” Nyla groaned.

  “Yes.” Nadia stood, went to the door, and opened it.

  “Well?” Nyla was annoyed.

  “Mainly to see if you were going to Lindsey’s party. Apparently, it’s important to Jamison that you go.” She leaned against the doorjam. Nyla covered her head with her blankets. After a few minutes, Nadia left and Nyla made her way to the bathroom.

  Emma picked her up a short time later. Emma’s house was full of family from out of town. It was a tradition that aunts, uncles, and grandparents converged on their old farmhouse on the outskirts of town. Everyone said hello to Nyla and asked her about school. She smiled politely and answered their questions. Emma dragged her up to her bedroom. She shooed the younger cousins out of her room as she shut the door behind them.

  “Fill me in on every detail,” she demanded, so Nyla did. This was a rare moment when Dex wasn’t around. She knew that he didn’t enjoy their gushy girly moments as much. He was still a boy after all. After she told her everything, Emma sat there with her hand on her chin.

  “Dex will not hang with that Jack-bag. Sorry, I already know.” Emma threw up her hand as if surrendering.

  “I know, but I hoped for me you guys would suffer through one night with him. I think I can avoid him the rest of the week. It’s hard to be strong around him. He has this impression that nothing bothers me, and I’m glad; I’d hate for him to see how much he affects me.” Nyla put her head in her hands.

  “You know he wasn’t responsible for everything that happened to you in high school.” Emma put her hand Nyla’s knee.

  “I know, but he didn’t make it easy. How many times did he trip me in English?” She looked up at her.

  “But that was then; you would be just as bad as he was if you made him suffer for it now.” Emma looked at her as she would a five-year-old.

  “I know I should give him a shot, huh? It’s just a hang session. I have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend.” Nyla shrugged.

  “Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” Emma smirked. Nyla furrowed her brows.

  “Settle down; nothing’s going to happen. You can tell that neither of you are ready, but if you continue spending time together, mark my words, it’s only a matter of time,” Emma laughed.

  “No, it won’t. I won’t let it get there. I don’t want to be with him like that anyway .” Nyla’s defiance only made Emma laugh harder.

  “Mark my words,” she giggled.

  Later that night, Jamison nervously approached her front door. He knew her sister was at Lindsey’s party, and her mother was at the Henderson’s annual holiday party where his parents were also. Dex and Emma had other plans. It was just Nyla and him. She was cooking dinner, and he brought movies. It felt like a date. He was more nervous than he had ever been for any of his dates; maybe it was because he didn’t feel good enough for Nyla. If he were being honest with himself, she was the only person he’d ever not felt good enough for. Maybe it was because she was herself with him and without him. She never pretended to be anyone but who she was. He rang the doorbell and shifted on his feet. She answered it in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, her hair pulled up in a messy bun on top of her head. He stepped back stunned. She looked beautiful and natural, and he couldn’t believe how she took his breath away. She narrowed her eyes as she surveyed him in his designer clothes.

  “We said dinner and movies, right?” she asked, feeling a little embarrassed. He was dressed so nicely, like going-out-nice.

  “Yeah, I just thought, never mind,” he said, equally embarrassed. He followed her to the kitchen where she pulled the lasagna and cheese bread from the oven. She placed it on the stove and turned and surveyed him again.

  “Give me a minute.” She took off the oven mitts and raced through the house and stomped up the stairs. He stood in her empty kitchen suddenly remembering the last time he’d been there. It was a few weeks before they began their freshman year. She had surprised him with peanut butter cookies.

  “Jamison, I know they are your favorite and thought you’d like some.” She held up a plate to him with hopeful eyes eager for his approval. He picked up one that looked like a football. He took a bite of it and thought it was the best peanut butter cookie he’d ever eaten. He didn’t let his expression show how much he liked it though. He finished it, and she continued to hold the plate up to him hopefully.

  “Naw, I’m OK,” he said, even though he desperately wanted to eat the whole plate.

  He shook his head, embarrassed that he had ever treated her so poorly. He turned and plodded to the stairs. In his urgency to apologize to her he suddenly gained momentum and ran up the stairs. Stopping at her closed bedroom door, he knocked; she didn’t answer.

  “Nyla?” Still no answer. He knocked again, and the door creaked open. He poked his head in. She was nowhere to be seen, but he saw her bathroom light throu
gh the nearly closed door. “NYLA?” he called louder. She appeared in the doorway wearing jeans and a large, scooped neck, knit top that fell off her bare shoulder showing her delicate neck and shoulder.

  “Jamison, I said to give me a minute.” She shook out her hair, free of the bun, and it fell into waves. He just stared at her. “What’s with you?” she asked, putting her hand on her hip and cocking her head to the side.

  “Your cookies were the best I’d ever eaten,” he blurted out. Her lost expression said it all. She just stood there trying to figure out what he was talking about. He looked down at the floor and then back up at her, determined to tell her. “The summer before freshman year, you made me peanut butter cookies. They were the best I’d ever had, or had since, and I should have told you, but I didn’t. I’m sorry.” Her eyes hinted at a twinge of recollection.

  “Best?” she asked.

  “Ever,” he said and walked to her, not only invading her personal space but standing so close to her, he could scoop her up in his arms if he wanted to. He did want to. He wanted to throw her on her bed and have his way with her. A smile crept into the corners of her mouth, and he returned it. She took his hand and led him downstairs to eat. They did and then snuggled up on the couch to watch the Sandra Bullock movie they had watched in his room so many years ago in junior high. It was the best night in he had had in a long time, maybe ever. Finally, as he told her goodbye, he knew he had some things to take care of when he got back home. Chicago was home now. As long as she was there, it was his home.

  Chapter 10

  It was the last Saturday of the summer before Nyla’s freshman year of high school. She sat on the floor beside Jamison’s bed reading her novel. He lay across his bed playing video games. This was how they had spent their summer, holed up in a bedroom where she read and he played video games. That day he’d been playing for hours, but his game, his voice had become white noise as she was engrossed in her story of the steamy faerie knight.

  “Nyla, what do you think?” She moved her finger to the word to hold her place and looked up at him. He was now sitting still, looking at her hopefully.