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.: 20 :.
A Case of Mistaken Right-of-Way
"What do you want for-Hey. What's going on?" Andy stepped into Vicki's room, sending the closet a glance before sitting beside her sister and watching her expressions. "What are you thinking?"
Vicki let out a slow breath. "Trying to figure out how to persuade the parents to let me stay home."
"Ah ha." Andy focused on the several outfits in the closet. "If you don't want to wear the clothes, you only have to say so."
"Andy..." Vicki focused on her sister. "That's not why. I just...." Vicki looked away again, not sure how to tell her sister why she didn't want to go to school.
Andy smiled and gave Vicki a soft nudge, drawing back her focus. "I'll tell Mom and Dad that you need a day to just hang out and whatever else. I'll stop by the school office on my way home and get your homework. Sound like a plan?"
Vicki tremulously smiled as she very slightly nodded. "Thank you so much, Andy," she whispered. "I... I need...."
"You need a day off," Andy finished. "Especially with the run in with Renee yesterday." Nodding, Andy stood to her feet. "Take your day off, Vi-vi. I'll explain things to the parents, and Wil."
"Andy," Vicki said quickly, reaching toward her sister. "Andy, don't tell him. He'll blame himself. He does that a lot."
Andy knelt. "Then what do you want me to tell him? I'm not going to lie, that's just wrong."
"I know, but... but can't you just tell him I wasn't feeling well?"
"Are you?"
"A little. You know how my stomach hurts when I stress over things."
Andy smirked. "Saved by the stomach." She stood again. "All right. I'll tell Wil that you had a stomachache and decided to stay home so it wouldn't get worse. He'll more than likely see through it anyway. He's a smart guy, you know."
Vicki lowered her gaze. "I know."
"You should just call him and tell him that you need 'a day'. Everyone's done it. Especially seniors. You know it's true."
Standing to her feet, Vicki smoothed her jersey-knit pajama shorts as she whispered, "I know," yet again.
"I know you do." Andy gave her sister's arm a rub. "You take it easy, Vi-vi."
Vicki smiled. "Thanks, Andy."
"No problem. I'm going to head down and get breakfast, and I'll have Mom make you your favorite: French toast."
Andy stepped out, heading downstairs while calling the news to their parents in the kitchen and leaving Vicki standing outside her closet staring inside.
Unfortunately, the suspicion that Renee had caused Vicki to stay at home had Wil seeing red all day. Even worse was the fact that Renee had left a note with the front office scheduling their so-called interview for that afternoon after school. Making it impossible for him to offer Andy a ride home to see how Vicki felt. Yet again the Davis Luck becomes a Curse.
Maybe that was the reason Renee and he hadn't worked out?
Wil scoffed as he strode out of Senior Hall toward the parking lot and his Thunderbird. He knew better than to blame some mystical luck/curse switch that was more than likely all in his mind in the first place. It was his own fault that Renee had gone off the deep end. If he had stood up to her just once, things could have been a lot different. But her obsession with their relationship had made him put it off, not sure what to do or how to do it.
"That and I'm a larger-than-life wuss," he mumbled, tossing his duffel into the back seat.
Of course, there were a lot of people afraid of Renee. Something about the decibels she could reach that could make the hair on his neck stand on end. No one liked to be screeched at for extended periods of time, and she wasn't called Queen Banshee behind her back for nothing.
The drive to Renee's went by too fast. The interview was definitely not something Wil looked forward to, whether it would supposedly save his reputation or not. Reputation? They believe what they want no matter what. So what if they colored it more than real life anyway? Sports was all about hype and intimidation. How else did I get Renee to back off in the first place?
The Thompson house came into view and Wil grimaced, racking his brain for some excuse to keep driving and go hang out with Vicki. But if he didn't do this interview, Renee would print whatever she wanted about him and the other girls on the paper. Knowing Renee, it would be as nasty as she could imagine. Which wasn't something he wanted Vicki to read.
He pulled up, grumbling under his breath about crazy ex-girlfriends with power trips and how he should have sworn off girls until college. Which he immediately scoffed off as just as crazy.
Making himself cross the street, Wil's steps lagged the closer he got to the walk. Then, when he pressed the doorbell, its chime had Wil's scowl deepening. If it had been up to him, he would have put this way off. Yeah. Try never. Spending several hours with an ex-girlfriend sworn to the religion of making his life miserable wasn't exactly his idea of fun. I'd rather go to church with Vicki than be here.
Wil Davis didn't do church.
The door opened to reveal Renee's father dressed to the hilt in a three-piece suit that more than likely cost more than Wil's new stereo deck. Mr. Thompson was tall, with short-cut black hair and dark brown eyes. The biggest difference between him and his daughter was the fact that Mr. Thompson was nice. Even if he was a lawyer.
"Hey, Mr. Thompson," Wil greeted a little morosely. After all, he could just imagine the stories Renee had been telling her dad. They had to paint a less-than-perfect picture.
"Wil. How are you?" Mr. Thompson asked, extending a hand.
Wil shook it, saying "Okay, I guess," and giving a breath of relief. Of course, who wanted to confess humiliation to a parent? "No criminals to put away today, sir?" Mr. Thompson had always been a great source for stories.
Chuckling, Mr. Thompson shook his head. "Long story." Then he motioned inside. "Come in, Wil, and if you're here to see Ren, she's not home from school yet."
"She's not?" Which had him suspicious as to what she could possibly be plotting with the rest of the Cult; which of course had him immediately think of Vicki and almost uttering an Aw crap.
"You can come in and wait."
Wil looked over his shoulder toward his Thunderbird before giving a shrug and stepping into the house. "Sure."
"Great game last Friday, Wil."
Wil lowered himself into the black leather couch while sending Renee's dad a look of surprise. "You made it to the game, sir?"
"I did. At least the first half. The rest was video-taped by a friend-" The cellular phone at his belt rang. "Excuse me, Wil. It's the office." Then he stepped away to answer it.
Wil leaned back into the couch and slowly crossed his arms, his mind grabbing the fact that Renee should have been home ten minutes before. Renee, I swear if you're plotting something, I will find out about it. In fact, if he had anything to do about it, he would get her suspended. I'm tired of her crap.
The loud thumping of Renee's car stereo could be heard approaching just as Mr. Thompson came back into the room. "Wil, I apologize we can't talk longer, but I need to return to the office. However, I believe I hear Ren pulling up."
"That's okay, sir," Wil said, smirking. "Putting drug-heads and kidnappers where they belong is more important than talking to me." Besides, he didn't want Mr. Thompson witness to what would likely end in a shouting match between the two.
Mr. Thompson smiled and grabbed his briefcase as he left the living room and headed for the front hall. He slipped into his trench coat just as Renee opened the door.
She stopped and focused on him with a shocked look. "Dad!"
"Hi, baby. Need to get back to the office, but I'll see you tonight. Have dinner ready?" He gave her a smile and quick kiss on the cheek, before closing the door after him.
Renee stared after him for a long moment before frowning and turning to flounce into the living room. "I cannot believe I'm having to do this interview," she seethed, dropping her genuine leather book-bag onto the floor by the couch. She tightly crossed her arms as she glared at him. "You just had to go to Mr. Lambert."
Wil stood. "About you asking questions that are none of your business? Damn right!"
She scoffed and roughly opened her book-bag. "Let's just get this over with."
"Fine with me."
But before she even pulled the notebook out of the bag, she turned on him again. "How can you say that my asking about those girls was 'none of your business'?" Eyes smoldering, Renee crossed her arms again. "I'm your girlfriend, Wil, and you're chasing every ass on campus? Like hell it wasn't any of my business."
"You were my girlfriend," Wil pressed. "Past tense. It's over."
"Whatever! Just answer my question," she snapped.
"I can't if I don't know what you're obsessing over now."
"Those girls on the paper!" Renee declared angrily. "April, Emily, and some other chick."
"Those girls who've done interviews on me?" Wil asked incredulously. "What do they have to do with anything?"
Renee made an angry noise. "Oh, sure! It's so much easier to play dumb than to explain to your girlfriend why you've been cheating on her!"
Wil rolled his eyes. "So I sometimes caved and did whatever. It meant about as much to me as it did to them. You know better than anybody that getting anything from me is just a score to them."
Glaring, Renee asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
Wil scowled at her, his hands clenched. "You know exactly what it means, Renee. I was always just another mark for you; about as important as my letterman jacket."
Renee scoffed, which had Wil's temper flaring.
"And who are you to do any 'cheater, cheater' screams," he countered, motioning harshly toward her. "You had your pick of the other football players, the track team, or any of the other 'way cool' guys on the team."
Renee's face went blank. "You knew...?"
"I'm not stupid or deaf, Renee," he snarled. "Of course I knew."
"So instead of giving me some attention you screw around and then dump me?" she asked incredulously.
"God! What is it with you and not seeing your own issue?" Wil stared at her in amazement. "Renee, did you ever think that your 'it's all about me' attitude is why I fooled around in the first place? You put my nose out of joint so often with your screwing the nearest jock that I thought it might have been time for some payback. Okay? Then with you trying to control my life.... It was hard enough to concentrate on the game when I had a girlfriend. When I heard you were playing around it was impossible, and I was sick of it. That's why we broke up."
"You know as well as I do that you only broke up with me so that you could go after Little Miss Big Blue Eyes with her supposed innocence and hero worship," Renee screeched.
"I told you, Renee," Wil said through clenched teeth, "we were over way before I ever knew she existed. If you can't handle the fact that you and I aren't working, that isn't my issue. But don't you even think about going after my friends. I will retaliate."
Renee stared at him with wide eyes before accusing, "You're going to 'retaliate' and can stand there and say that you're just friends with her? Please! If you're friends with her, then why all the special interest? Why are your jock friends suddenly threatening my friends to not even take a long look at her?"
"Because they know you, Renee! You and your Cult beat the crap out of Ruth just because you got wind that she was going to ask me to Homecoming! She and I have been friends forever and you still thought she was some kind of threat!" He pointed roughly at her. "You're your own threat, Renee. You're the reason I ever took a second look at any girl because you're so damn mean!"
Her mouth dropped, her arms going swiftly to her sides before she sounded her infamous Banshee Wail. "You are such a prick! You fool around, admit it, and then still try and make this my fault?"
Wil stared at her in shock before throwing his arms up in frustration and turning to stride toward the door. "Fine, Renee. Just fine. If you want to believe you're the victim to make yourself feel better, go right ahead. I'm outta here." Wil slammed out of the house.
He was half-way down the walk when he heard the door open again and Renee call, "Wil, wait!" in a tone of voice that sounded a lot like she was in the past.
To his surprise, he stopped. "What, Renee."
She came to stand across from him, her brown eyes wide in shock and looking so much like how she used to be that he almost regretted what he'd said. "So, it's really over? I screwed up and that's it?"
"We both messed up," Wil admitted. "I did the minute I gave you my class ring."
Her brown eyes sparked. "Thanks a lot!"
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? Just..." Wil stepped past. "Just leave me alone."
"I can't even be a friend?" she protested.
Again, Wil stopped. Then he turned and met her gaze. "Renee, do you really think you'd be able to be 'a friend'? If any of my girl friends gave me a smile, you'd scratch their eyes out." Vicki especially.
Renee scoffed and turned on her heel to stride into her house, slamming the door shut behind her. Wil stared after her for a long time before shaking his head and making his way to the Thunderbird. Now Renee really would blast him with the article. Oh well. I'm not going to kiss her ass just to get a kind word. He'd learned his lesson the last time he had done that. It left the girls thinking they could get more. That's what you get for thinking with the wrong head, Davis. But if Vicki read the- His hand paused on the door handle. Vicki... She lives down the street! Duh! He examined the area.
"Which house was hers again?" he mumbled.
Noticing the massive three-story house about three blocks down, he gave a shrug and started down the sidewalk toward it, activating his Thunderbird's after-market security system. And what in the world are you going to say to her? You're not really going to admit to feeling up girls on the paper to make Renee jealous are you? Come on. You want Vicki as a girlfriend eventually. Remember? But he knew it would more than likely be better for her to find out from him instead of on the paper. Like some sick tabloid going after the dirt. But she'll probably write you off, no matter what. Admit it. You were an ass. Cor had never missed the chance to tell him so each time she smelled a new kind of perfume on him.
Creepy how she could do that.
Now he could almost visualize Vicki looking up at him with those awesome eyes and then saying, 'I never want to see you again.' Wil scrubbed a hand through his hair while muttering, "Aw crap." But he'd done it to himself, just like every other jock on his team.
The whole nasty situation left Wil hoping Mr. Lambert exercised his power as editor and pulled the story if Renee tried to blast him. Considering how obsessive Mr. Lambert could be about the stories printed in 'The Bobcat's Meow', Wil figured he would be more safe than not. So, Vicki never needs to know that you can be just as much of a jerk-off as every other jock. Wil grimaced.
As Wil approached Vicki's house, the brother seen that past Sunday exited the house while shrugging into a black denim jacket. Max was it? He stood about a little taller than Vicki, and his build had Wil recalling what Andy had said about him being on the junior-high football team. Hm. Looks like he might play right tackle. I'll have to catch a couple games and pass the word. Coach was always on the look-out for fresh blood.
When Max looked up and saw Wil, he halted and continued adjusting his jacket while watching him.
Wil made his way up the walk, offering a greeting of, "Hey."
"Hey," Max responded, giving Wil the once over before simply asking, "Number twelve?"
The kid couldn't have impressed Wil much more with just that. It proved that he paid attention. "Number twelve," he agreed.
"Cool." Then Max looked down again, checking his pockets for something. "Max."
Wil smirked. "Say, Max, is your sister home?"
"Which?" Max prompted, still searching his pockets.
"Vicki."
That drew Max's partial focus as he again gave Wil the once over. Wil found the fact amusing, mostly because he would have more than likely done the same thing if roles had been reversed.
"Yeah," Max finally said. "She's not feeling all that great, so she's zoning in front of the couch. She might be playing a console."
No way. She plays console games? "Mind if I come in?" I wonder if she's a racer, shooter, or gamer....
"Nah. Knock yourself out." Then Max continued down the front walk, passing Wil while giving him yet another sidelong glance.
Wil stared after him with an amused expression before once again heading toward Vicki's house. Then he rang the doorbell, not wanting to just come in off the street and risk the wrath of the other mentioned brother: Steven, if Wil remembered correctly.
"I'll get it, Mom!" came a call inside one of the front rooms. "Max probably forgot his keys!"
So that's what he was checking for, Wil mused moments before the door opened and Vicki's teasing smile vanished to an expression of horror.
"Hey," he greeted, wondering if he was out of line to show up.
"Wil," she squeaked, a hand going to tug at her oversized sweatshirt of blue and yellow and then her somewhat messy ponytail. Then Vicki timidly smiled. "H-Hi."
Okay. I, uh, guess she's okay with me being here. "How you feeling?" he asked.
"B-Better." Vicki sent a look over her shoulder and began worrying her lip. Then she focused on him again, offered a small smile as she motioned inside. "Come on in."
"Thanks." Stepping into the front hall, he shrugged out of his jacket while noticing he never saw any other girls in oversized sweatshirts, baggy sweatpants, and messy hair. Besides Cor. They can't be the only ones that like being comfortable other than me. It just seemed so stupid- I smell cookies.... Cookies, after the episode with Renee, would have hit the spot. Yeah. A dozen of them. Mega chocolate chip, too.
Vicki offered a hand while sending him a quick glance. "Here. Let me have that."
Davis, don't even think about it. "Thanks," he said again, letting her take the jacket and watching as she hung it up beside her naval P-coat.
"Who was it, sweetie?" came a shout from upstairs.
Vicki's cheeks reddened as she gave him another small smile and then stepped to the foot of the stairs. Clearing her throat, she called, "It's Wil, Mom!"
"Oh! Tell him there are fresh chocolate-chip cookies on the table and orange juice in the fridge!"
Score! Wil grinned.
"All right, Mom!" Vicki smiled wider as she shook her head, gesturing for Wil to follow her into the kitchen. "Come on."
Following as directed, Wil tried not to laugh when he heard the click-click of the bunny noses from Vicki's slippers on the linoleum floor. Davis, focus. What are you doing here? Wil wiped the smirk off his face and cleared his throat. Mostly because he had no idea why he was there. At least, he didn't want to admit why.
Vicki poured him a glass of orange juice and then placed the gallon onto the table. "So..." she began quietly, gathering napkins for the still-warm cookies while sending him a glance or two. Then she sat across from him and picked at her fingernails. "So what brings you over here? Andy said I was okay, didn't she?"
"Yeah, but I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by to see how you were doing." Wil ripped off a piece of cookie without catching Vicki's gaze. 'I don't believe you were sick,' he wanted to say. Instead, he sent her a quick glance. Shouldn't be a jerk about her staying home. Not after what Renee did. You would have stayed home, too, if it hadn't been for the Chemistry test. Which made him want to get even with Renee even worse. Only, that would start the whole vicious circle all over again.
"In the neighborhood?" Vicki repeated, her disbelieving gaze meeting his second glance.
Wil forced a smile and gave a shrug. "Okay. So it's a lame excuse." Finally. Proof that there are girls out there smarter than a hair dryer.
Vicki smiled. "You came for the cookies. You know you did."
Chuckling, Wil popped back another portion. "Any chance of food being allowed in the game room?"
Her eyes widened. "Sure. Did you want to play?"
"I never pass up the chance to beat someone at something." He stood, gathering up his glass of orange juice and his napkin full of cookies. I wonder if she sticks to the 'non-ruthless' when she's gaming? "Come on. I'll play with one eye closed."
Smiling, Vicki shook her head as she followed after him. "You do realize that just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm bad at games?"
Ooooh. I got her with that one. "Counting on it." He crossed the hall to the game room complete with big screen television, two console systems, surround sound speaker system, and a couch and recliner set. "Whoa. Now this is a game room." Wil carefully set his orange juice and cookies onto the coffee-table poholding the console systems.
Vicki heavily sat into the couch, tailor-style, and drew a fleece throw over her lap before gathering up the console controller and taking the game off 'Pause'.
Wil immediately recognized the game as his favorite racing title. "I love this game!" Whoa. She's good. Scooting closer to the center of the couch, he pointed toward the television as he ate the last bit of the first cookie. "There's a short-cut over there."
Vicki smiled patiently. "I know. You eat your cookies. I'll worry about the short-cut."
He smirked. "Okay, okay. I'll eat the cookies. You do the driving. But then it's face-off time." Vicki made several beautiful moves against an opposing driver, causing Wil's eyebrow to lift. I have a bad feeling it will be me getting my face taken off. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thought. Competition was fun.
She sent him a glance. "It's your funeral."
Yes! Wil watched her profile while munching on the second of six cookies, still smirking. "Is that a challenge?" Maybe you only like her because she's "one of the guys"?
Vicki's lips twitched and her blue eyes briefly met his green ones, bringing to mind Renee's scathing title of 'Little Miss Big Blue Eyes'. When Vicki looked away, Wil quickly ruled out the 'one of the guys' reason and reminded himself they had to be 'just friends' until she was old enough, however long that was. I doubt it's tomorrow, so stop sitting so close! Focusing again on the television as she beautifully maneuvered the short-cut, he called "Nice!" and adjusted himself a few inches away using the excuse of standing to retrieve the case for the game.
Remaining 'just friends' was going to get old very fast.
Yeah, well, suck it up. You screw this up and you're swearing girls off until you graduate college- Wil pointed at the screen, mouth full of cookie. "Watch out! Behind you!"
"Yes," Vicki said calmly, missing the catastrophe waiting to happen with several adept uses of the buttons. "I see it, thank you."
Laughing, Wil lifted his hands. "Sorry. I'll be quiet now."
Vicki suddenly giggled. "I'm sorry, Wil," she said, sending him a quick glance. "I'm a little on the intense side when playing."
"I can tell." He winked toward her. "I'll be sure to sit farther away when whipping you at your own game."
If anything, the chuckle Vicki gave as response sounded malicious. But then she sent him a sweet smile and stated, "That might be a good idea."
If I read her right, she'll bring her game and expect one back. Wil retrieved another cookie from his pile for energy and sent her a lopsided smile. "You're ruthless here, aren't you?"
Again, Vicki only chuckled while sweetly saying, "You'll see."
Woo-hoo! Wil could hardly wait.
Wil accepted his jacket and shrugged into it. "Hey. Homework is homework. At least you didn't kick me out once Dee showed up with it."
"Believe it or not, I usually do my homework best when there's noise in the background." That and she couldn't make herself ask him to leave. Having Wil in her living room and the two of them just hanging out enjoying a good racing game had been the best experience of her life. Like hanging out with one of her friends from back home, but so much different.
"I need my music. If I don't have my music, my focus sucks big time."
Vicki giggled without knowing why, which made Wil's smile twitch. Then she self-consciously reached out for the front door. "Thanks again, Wil."
"Sure. It was fun." He adjusted his jacket a few times while standing on the threshold of the door, half in and half out as he stared down at the ground at his feet. Then he began sending Vicki several sidelong glances while fussing with his jacket collar.
Please don't ask me to be your girlfriend again. After the couple hours today, she would probably say 'yes' before she could even think about it. Boy, God, I really like him.
"So...."
Here it comes. Vicki clasped her hands in front of her as she tried to keep the same smile on her face. "Hm?"
"So, are you going to be sixteen before this All Saints thing?" he finally asked, almost seeming to blurt it.
Vicki's face must have flushed vermillion as she stammered, "Uh, er, n-no."
Wil released a quick breath. "Crap." Then he sent her a boyish smile and snapped his fingers. "Oh well. I guess I get to go with my sister, then. Yahoo."
Vicki couldn't help but giggle yet again, this time at both relief that he hadn't asked her one question and then ecstasy that he had asked her the other one. It meant he was going, and that he had wanted to go with her. "I'm glad you're going," she heard herself saying. Vicki! Goodness gracious! She quickly lowered her gaze, wondering what in the world had gotten into her.
"Thanks," he said after a moment's quiet. Then he cleared his throat, drawing her gaze. "I'll pick you and Andy up tomorrow?"
"Oh." Poop, she whined. "Um, I, uh, I'm going with my dad." Darn it! "H-He and I don't get to hang out very much, and so...."
"Hey, that's cool." Wil gave her arm a nudge, the smile a bit awkward as he said, "I'll see you in class then."
"O-Okay."
Then he turned and made his way down the brick walk, turning right onto the sidewalk as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Vicki stared after him, worrying her lower lip as she prayed that God would help them be 'just friends'. It was turning out to be the hardest thing in her life, especially since she had wanted a boyfriend since she had turned fourteen years old. That's when the 'everyone else is doing it' arguments had begun. But when her parents had warned that if she used that argument one more time they would make the age-requirement 16 ½ and not 16, she stopped.
Sighing, Vicki closed the front door and made her way back into the game room to slump onto the couch. When the phone rang, she answered it in a morose tone. "Hello?"
"This cannot be the Modine Residence. You sound like your pet died."
Vicki reluctantly smiled. "Hi, Hannah. How are you?"
"Better than you, obviously. What's up, Vi-vi? What's got you so down?"
Vicki closed her eyes and laid back on the couch, bringing a hand up to rub at her face when all she kept seeing was Wil's pretty green eyes. "I like a boy."
Silence. "Um, okay, so... when do you get to the part that has you down?"
"That is the part."
"Wait, wait. You're depressed because you like a boy? What is he? In college or something? Your teacher?"
"He's a jock," Vicki groaned.
"I see," Hannah said slowly. "So, I'm reaching here, but... So, he's a jerk?"
"No," Vicki mumbled. Which, of course, made her like him more.
"Good. I'd have to hit you if you liked a jerk like the last loser." Hannah released a quick breath. "Okay, my darling. Talk to your Han. What's the matter about liking this guy?"
"I'm not old enough."
"You will be in a couple months, Vi-vi. What's the deal? Does he not like you or something?"
"He does. That's what makes it all so hard in the first place. He was just here, hanging out and playing games with me as I did my homework. He wanted to take me to the All Saints Celebration our church is doing but I had to say 'no' because I'm not old enough-"
"You shouldn't have said 'no' until you begged with your folks!" Hannah protested.
"I... I didn't want them to say 'no'."
Hannah scoffed. "Vi-vi, darling, your parents say 'yes' more often than 'no', you big goof. Besides, these are... well, these are special circumstances! A jock asked you to a dance!"
Vicki couldn't help but laugh. "No, they aren't 'special circumstances'."
"Psh. Puh-lease. But, anyway. Soooo, you like a jock and he likes you. Way to go! Tell me about him. What's his name?"
"Hannah," Vicki complained, "if I talk about him, that's just going to make me like him more and make the whole waiting period all the more of a bummer. You know that."
"Vi-vi, we haven't talked about boys in forever, and besides that, I wanna!" Hannah whined. "Come on! You never know, it might make it easier instead. I mean, if you get it all out of your system you won't be drooling over him the next time you see him," she reasoned seriously.
Vicki laughed again. "Okay, okay. I'll talk about him. But only because you won't stop pestering me about it unless I do."
"Whatever. You're going to talk about him because you want to talk about him. I only had to give you motivation." And Vicki could practically hear Hannah's wink. "So, his name?"
"Wil. One 'l'."
"Please tell me he didn't introduce himself that way. That is so... I don't know. Lame, or something."
"No, it isn't," Vicki protested. "It's adorable."
Hannah could be heard to snigger. "Something tells me you're going to think that everything he does is 'adorable'. You're always like that when you like a guy."
"What? Nuh-uh."
"Darling, I've been your friends for ages. I know you."
Vicki scoffed, restraining a giggle.
"Don't give me that. Now go on. What's he like?"
But how did Vicki describe Wil in a believable way and not make him sound too-good-to-be-true, which is how Vicki had to fight from thinking in the first place. "Well, he's tall, with curly brown hair and pretty green eyes. He's on the football team, quarterback, and has a lot of awards and things. He used to pitch, but when he went into high-school he started focusing on football and track instead. He's good at soccer, too. Oh, and he's smart. He's in Chemistry, can you believe it?
"Oh! And he has a classic Thunderbird that is just a dream. All rumbly and everything. I wish I had my license because I would so ask to drive it. I know it's not legal, but I'm sure Westlake has back roads somewhere. I mean, it's so green around here and kind of homey. A lot like Ouray, now that I think about it. Wil's sister is a sweetheart, too. Her name is Cora- Oh! They're twins, too. I think Cora said that she was born first, but the way she winked at me I don't know if I want to believe her. I haven't asked Wil because it just seems a stupid thing to ask, you know?"
There was a soft knock on the door and Vicki sat up. "Hold on, Han. Someone's at the door."
"Sure."
Vicki scrambled off the couch, shouting, "I'll get it, Mom! I still think Max forgot his keys!" When she opened the door, her stomach did the same journey to her shoes that it had when he first arrived, but this time she smiled faster. "Hi, Wil."
"Wil? You're kidding! Let me say 'hi'!" Hannah yelled.
Vicki quickly hid the phone behind her back, self-consciously giggling as she lowered her gaze from Wil's amused expression. She motioned inside. "Come on in."
"Vicki! Vicki, come on!" Hannah pleaded.
Wil chuckled and motioned to the phone she still held behind her. "Want me to take that?"
Sniggering, Vicki handed forward the phone. "Sure. Why not."
Accepting the phone, Wil cleared his throat and sent Vicki a wink as he said, "Wil here," in a British accent.
Vicki's jaw dropped and then she laughed, quickly muffling it with her hands.
"Hello? Hello? I say, is anyone there?"
Vicki nearly passed out she laughed so hard. What made it all the funnier was the fact she could just imagine the look of shock on Hannah's face as she stared at the receiver on her end.
Wil offered the phone back. "She's speechless." Then he laughed.
Vicki took back the phone and, giggling so hard she almost couldn't form complete sentences, she told Hannah, "Sorry, Han. I've got to go. I'll call you later. Bye!" She clicked off the phone. "Thanks a lot!" Vicki complained, giving Wil's arm a playful slug. "Now she's going to be even more merciless with her questions."
"Sorry." He motioned to the game room. "I think my cell dropped into the couch cushions. It's not in my pocket."
"Oh! I'm sorry about that," Vicki apologized as she followed him into the room. "This couch has eaten the remote controls I don't know how many times." She helped him search. "I hope you didn't miss any calls."
"Eh. Don't sweat it. I would have left it, but I wanted an excuse to get more cookies."
Vicki laughed while sending him a smiling glance. "You eat cookies like they were going out of style. I only do that when I've had a bad day."
Wil smirked, still searching in the cushions. "Hey. They're good-Here it is." He checked the screen for something and then slipped it into his jacket pocket. Then he focused the same easy smile on her which sent her heart skittering every-which-way. "Thanks."
"Sure." God... Help... She forced herself to look away and point toward the kitchen while stepping toward it. "Come on. I'll get you a baggie for your cookies. You should take some to Cora, too."
She heard him follow, and then he stopped by the front door. When Vicki turned, he was staring down at his cell phone with an odd expression. Not sure if she should ask about it or not, Vicki caught herself clearing her throat. That lifted Wil's gaze and had him focusing on her with a forced smile that she didn't believe one bit.
"Maybe I better pass on the cookies. Bring them for lunch?"
She absently nodded. "Sure. I can do that." Wil, are you alright? What's the matter? But it was like those questions would have been crossing a line she wasn't allowed over yet.
"Thanks." He turned for the door, even opened it, and then he halted and stared out at the park, his hand still holding the door knob.
Vicki worried her lower lip, not knowing what would be okay to ask. She was almost decided to ask, 'Is something wrong?' when he mumbled something that sounded like "See you tomorrow," and then closed the door after him. Vicki couldn't stop a slight jump, although she didn't know why, and then found herself stepping forward to peek out the windows on each side of the door as he stepped slowly away, his hands deep in his pockets.
Not the end; continued additions pending...
