Edited as of 07/24/08.
Uh Huh
If I would've known what you were thinking,
Would've ran for the hills and hid
I would've stayed low key.
DELILAH ANNE DAVIS' BOYFRIEND CHECKLIST
1) The boy must be masculine. For example, he should not have an obsession with clothes.
2) He must be charming and he must have manners.
3) He must be taller than you are, dear.
4) He must not be a hoodlum. You don't want to bail him out of jail, do you?
5) He must not smoke or drink. It would be like kissing an ashtray.
6) The boy must be on an athletic team. He must be good at whichever sport he plays.
7) The boy should be smart. You don't want to feel like you're talking to a rock, right?
8) He should treat you properly. For example, he should defend you.
9) He must have a strong name.
10) He must have dark hair.
11) He can't have tattoos. Imagine those when he's wrinkly, darling.
Love,
Grandmother Rose
My mother had given me this list last night at dinner. She also informed me that my grandmother was coming to visit. My mother must fear that she would get in trouble if I didn't have a boyfriend. My grandmother intimidates my mother.
Jackson and I had learned that when we were kids. We didn't want to dress up and go to Church one Christmas Eve. Grandmother had been staying with us, and demanded we go to Church. My mother isn't even religious. That was the first time we'd been since we were babies.
My best friend Cole Warren and I were examining the list. We were lying on my bed. Not in a romantic way, but in a best-friend kind of way. We were completely comfortable with each other. We'd been friends since elementary school.
Girls in my school crushed over Cole. His hair was dark brown. It looked brown sometimes, and other times it was black. Every once in a while he let his hair grow longer than usual, and he still looked cute. His eyes are a nice shade of blue/gray, but sometimes they are green. They change color depending on what color shirt he was wearing. His eyes confuse me.
Cole was taller than I was, which really wasn't saying anything. Cole rarely smiled; his smile was more like a smirk. I call it his sexy smirk, and he just laughs. His years of playing soccer have given him defined muscles. It was always nice to get a hug from Cole.
"This lady is really picky," Cole mutters, studying the list with a thoughtful expression on his handsome features.
Cole would've been my grandmother's dream guy for me, according to the list. Too bad he was my ex-boyfriend. Too bad my grandmother knew that.
"Is there anyone that even matches all those qualities?" I ask, re-reading the list one more time. The list is written on a piece of notebook paper. My grandmother's elegant handwriting
I jump slightly as Metro Station's Shake It plays from his cell phone. Why on earth does he have that song as his ringtone? I'll interrogate him when he's off the phone.
"Hey, man." Cole looks thoughtful, but the sexy smirk has turned into a full out smile. Uh, oh. That can't be good.
"Yeah, I'm in. I'm hanging out with Delilah, though. Can she come, too?" Cole asks, smiling at me. His smile is really starting to scare me. Cole hangs up his phone and turns to me with a sly, evil grin on his face.
"Baby, you just got lucky! I just found you a man to meet this… list of requirements." Cole has a proud glint in his eyes as he waves the list in the air.
"Well?! Are you going to tell me?" I ask, my voice demanding.
"Nope. You're going to find out in ten minutes. We're going to go meet him." Cole grins, getting of my bed. He walks towards the door and stands there impatiently, staring at me.
"Well, sweet thing, are you coming?" I scurry off the bed, willing to go anywhere he's going.
My constant nagging in the car doesn't break him. It only delights him. With each question, he gets more excited and anxious to show me who this guy is.
We end up driving to the high school, which throws me off. I'd been going over a list of Cole's friends in my head, and had yet to find a guy that met my grandmother's requirements.
We're sitting in the student parking lot, which faces the football field. The team is out there running drills, or whatever it is they do at practice.
"Why are we at school?" I ask, looking at Cole, who is in the drivers seat. "Wait and see, Delilah. Wait and see." Cole says, sexy smirking at me. I glare at him. He knows I hate having to be patient.
"Please! Come on, Cole! Tell me before I kill you," I say, threatening him. Cole just looks at me and rolls his big, brown eyes.
"Cole Alfred Warren!" I loved Cole's middle name. It was so old fashioned and so unlike Cole. Cole gives me a death glare.
I shriek when someone comes up to the car and knocks on the window. Cole glares at me, once again.
"Thanks for rendering me deaf, Delilah." Cole pushes the button to roll down the window.
"Hey, man. Where'd you want to go?" A deep, masculine voice asks my best friend. I look at the person leaning against the car, his head in the window watching Cole.
"You pick," Cole says, and the guys nods. I curl my nose at the stench coming from the guy.
"You got somethin' stuck up your nose, darlin'?" Denver Mackenzie asks, smirking at me. His green eyes meet my blue ones. Mine glare, and his just mock.
My eyes narrow at Denver, and he just smiles at me.
"Does your house not have a shower?" I smirk when Denver's eyes turn to emeralds at my question.
"You've probably never worked a day in your life, so you wouldn't know what sweat is. I understand," Denver says, looking at Cole over my head.
"Children, children. Now is not the time to bicker. We've got something important to discuss!" Cole almost looks excited, the psycho.
"Meet me at Jasper's," Denver walks away from the car, and I watch him walk to his car. He looks back once, and our eyes meet.
"No way in hell am I spending time with Denver Mackenzie ever again! He was the devil when we were kids, remember?" I exclaim, staring at Cole as he drives to the local teen hangout.
The owners of the restaurant are rich because high school kids have eaten at their restaurant for decades. When you walk in, you usually spot a table or two filled with your closest friends. There's usually a table of enemies, depending on who you are.
"Why did he get to pick the restaurant?" I ask, looking at Cole. Cole stares at me in disbelief.
"What?" I ask, after he's stared at me for five minutes.
"You're unbelievable, Delilah. You two were friends in elementary school. What the hell happened?" Cole's question is one I've heard before.
Cole doesn't expect me to answer because I never do. We get out of the car and walk into the restaurant, saying hi to our friends as we walk to Denver's table.
From afar, Denver looks pretty cute. From up close, Denver is absolutely stunning. He's the kind of guy that should be a male model.
"You didn't throw her out of the car, I see. Too bad." Denver says, smirking at me as Cole and I slide into the booth.
"Here's the deal, Denver. Delilah needs a boyfriend," Cole says, waiting until the waitress has walked away, with extra sway in her hips for the guys.
"That much is obvious. The girl's so high strung it's obvious she hasn't been fucked recently." Denver's statement makes me want to kill him. Denver's clearly on defensive mode, still sore from my earlier comment.
Cole and I look at each other, an awkward look on both of our faces.
"Okay, Denver. That's enough. No more personal attacks. You too, Delilah." Cole demands, staring the both of us down.
"You should take a look at this," Cole says, digging in his pocket for the list. He unfolds it and hands it to Denver.
Denver takes the list from Cole, a puzzled expression on his face.
"You're showing me this list because you think I'm this guy?" Denver asks, his gaze now on mine. There's a certain something in them, that hadn't been in there before.
"Cole thinks you're the guy. I haven't decided yet." I say, letting him know he's still under some kind of test.
"Are there any… requirements that you don't meet?" Cole asks, gently kicking my leg.
"I drink sometimes." Denver admits, and Cole nods.
"Understandable. Delilah's grandmother isn't going to find that out, so we're safe." Cole says, grinning at me. He obviously approves of Denver.
"I guess he's my only choice," I shrug it off.
"So what exactly am I supposed to do?" Denver asks, watching our interaction.
"You have to play the… role of Delilah's boyfriend for her family, especially her grandmother." Cole glances at me, struggling for the right words.
"I'll have to take her out on dates?" Denver asks, looking at me now. His eyes, now hazel, stare into mine.
"Yeah, you'd have to do everything a real couple would do, except only in front of her grandmother." I let Cole do all the talking.
"Why aren't you this guy, Cole?" Denver asks, watching Cole. Cole and I look at each other, wondering what our reasoning will be. To Cole and I, it's pretty obvious. It'll be difficult to explain to someone else.
"Delilah's grandmother thinks I'm a pansy." Cole explains, looking at Denver, practically daring Denver to agree.
Denver surprises us when he bursts out laughing. It's a full, rich sound.
"What's so funny?" I ask, ready to defend my best friend. Denver looks at me, a grin on his face.
"Cole's not pansy material."
"Yeah, well. That's what I thought, too." Cole says, sexy smirking. "Anyway, her grandmother hates me. She thinks I've taken away her granddaughter's innocence. We need a new guy for this." His explanation is the truth, or as close to it as we're both willing to reveal. Denver thinks it over for a moment or two.
"What do I get outta this deal?" Denver asks, smirking at me. It's an evil smirk, similar to Cole's sexy-smirk. But totally different, one that makes him look dangerous.
Denver should really be a model, with his looks. He's tan all year around from working on his family's farm three out of four seasons. His hair is black, and his eyes are hazel.
His muscles are huge from his years of farm work and football. He could probably break me in half if he wanted to. If I were to stand behind him, I wouldn't be able to see around the width of his shoulders.
It somewhat amazed me that Cole and Denver were still close friends. They had been that way when we were growing up. Denver had been the one to convince me that boys didn't have cooties; while Cole liked to say I was going to have a cootie farm.
The two boys grew to be opposites, but they still were close friends. Denver was rough and tough, whereas Cole was the silent storm.
"Kelsa will leave you alone." I say, naming his on again off again girlfriend of three years.
"Well, then. Count me in. I'll do anything to get that damn girl off my back." Denver says, smiling at Cole and I. Denver places his arms against the top of his booth seat, watching Cole and I with a lazy expression on his face.
"You have to attend my sister's wedding May 31st." I say, naming one rule out of many. Denver raises his eyebrow at me, but just nods.
"Write 'em down, darlin'." Denver says, pushing the boyfriend requirement list towards me. I dig through my purse until I find I pen.
I begin writing my own list of rules for Denver.
1) You must attend my sister's wedding on May 31st.
2) You must come to all of the family events I ask you to.
3) You must tolerate my friends.
4) You are not allowed to date other girls
5) I (Delilah Anne Davis) am allowed to add more rules if needed.
With a grin on my face, I hand the list back to Denver. He reads each new rule, and I know when he gets to the fourth one. His eyes change to a stunning shade of dark green,
"When does this devil woman arrive?" Denver asks, giving my grandmother an accurate nickname.
"Erm, the 8th of September." I say, trying to make the date sound farther away than it actually is.
"Delilah!" Cole exclaims, and many customers in the restaurant turn to glare at us.
"Cole, quiet down! And I didn't know she was coming until last night. So it isn't my fault!" Cole gives me a look that clearly says he does not believe me.
"She's here the whole school year?" Denver asks, surprise and annoyance written all over his features.
"Yeah, cause she's a Nazi control freak." Cole rolls his eyes at my name for my grandmother.
"Shit," Denver mutters, rubbing his hair. His hair just looks messier, which makes him look more adorable.
"Hang tight, guys. I'll be right back." I say, getting up from the table and walking in the direction of the bathroom.
In the bathroom, I'm cornered by Kelsa Simmons, Denver's old girlfriend.
"What are you doing with him?" Kelsa demands, glaring at me with all the intimidation she can muster. Which is a miniscule amount.
"I'm talking to him, Kelsa. Retract your claws," I command, with a grin on my face.
"He's mine, bitch. So back the hell off." Kelsa says, taking a few steps closer to where I'm standing. I could just walk right back out of the door, but I really need to pee.
"I never contradicted you, Kelsa. I get that he's yours. I'm not going to take him." I say, confident that Denver and I will not have a relationship while at school.
Kelsa and I have never gotten along, and I don't know why. She has never come up to me and threatened me before, however.
"You make a move on my man, and you'll regret it. Just keep that in mind, sweetie." Kelsa leaves the bathroom with that last evil statement.
Oh, just perfect. Now I'll have the whole damn cheerleading squad out to get me. Just what I wanted.
After I take care of my business, I wander back to the table. I slide in the booth, only then noticing that Cole has mysteriously disappeared.
"Did Kelsa get Cole, too?" I ask, and Denver looks at me like I've lost my mind.
"What're you on about?" Denver asks, giving me the same look he had been before.
"My ride left," I say, looking around the restaurant for a certain sexy-smirking hottie.
I look at Denver when I don't find Cole.
"Cole? Cole left while you were in the bathroom," Denver explains, eating the other half of Cole's hamburger.
"How am I supposed to get home, then? Walk the two miles?" I ask, wanting to wipe the smirk off of his face.
"Of course." Denver says, watching me with a pleased smile on his face.
"Why did he leave?" I ask, positive that the boy didn't have any other plans this afternoon.
"He thinks we need to bond, or some crap like that." Denver admits, rolling his eyes.
"How are we supposed to do that?" I ask, stealing a French fry from Denver's plate.
"I don't know. He said to play 20 questions."
"So then let's play 20 questions," I decide, leaning back against the seat.
"Okay then. Your turn."
"What? Why do I have to go first?" I ask, staring at him. There's that dark green color in his eyes again.
"Because you picked the game, smart one." Denver says, giving me a look that suggests I should have known that.
"Fine. What… is your favorite color?" I ask, smirking at him. I'll ask the easiest questions ever. Denver rolls his eyes at me, but he answers my question anyway.
"Blue, what's yours?" He asks, and I decide to answer his question.
"Green," I respond, smiling at him.
"I'm kind of disappointed it isn't pink, cause now I can't make fun of you." Denver says, watching me for a reaction. I roll my eyes at him. This 'relationship' isn't going to work if we keep saying crap like that.
"What is your favorite book?" He asks, his green eyes staring into my blue ones. The question surprised me. He doesn't strike me as the type of guy to sit down and finish a book.
"The Great Gatsby, followed closely by Sense and Sensibility." I respond, wondering if he knows who wrote them.
"Fitzgerald and Austen, nice." Denver comments, surprising me. Can he read my mind, or something?
"Do you have one?" I ask, out of pure curiosity. Maybe this guy is like whatever the Donkey in Shrek said. Maybe Denver is like an onion, with many layers hiding under his shell.
"Yeah, I do. In Cold Blood," his response makes me curl my nose in disgust.
"What, you don't like Capote?" He asks, noticing my disgusted look.
"He's just not for me." I respond, and Denver nods, accepting my answer.
"Next question," Denver says with an evil grin, "Hit me with your best shot."
"What's it like to have Kelsa begging for your attention?" I ask, and he glares at me.
"Can we not discuss that girl, please? She's insane." He responds, looking around the restaurant.
"Okay. Who is your best friend?" I ask, really curious to know the answer. He's really close to several people, so having him pick one person will be interesting.
"Nicky," Denver answers, taking a moment or two to think about his options. He doesn't need to tell me Nick's last name. We dated briefly, and we grew up together.
"Yours?" He asks, raising an eyebrow in question. He knows I have several close friends, just like he does.
"Cole, hands down, is the best friend ever. Which is why he's my best friend," I say, after taking several seconds to decide between Cole and Kylie.
"That's what I thought you'd say," Denver says, a grin on his face. So he thinks he knows me. Well, I'm going to prove him wrong.
Our game is interrupted when Kelsa walks up to our table, sliding into the booth next to Denver.
His whole body changes when the girl is next to him. His posture is tense, and there is a hard look about his eyes that makes me shudder.
Kelsa, on the other hand, is all grins and flirtatious movements. Her fingers tangle themselves in Denver's hair, and Denver clamps his mouth shut.
Maybe he's trying not to vomit on her. That's what I'd be doing. Although, looking down at his hands, I notice they're balled into fists.
"Kelsa, leave." Denver says, so quietly that I barely hear him.
The guy is fucking scary when he's angry. Its like you've unleashed this deadly monster. And this is probably him frustrated, he isn't full out angry. Imagine what he'd be like furious. Woooo boy.
"But, baby …. We need to talk," Kelsa says, a smile on her face but there's a glare in her narrowed brown eyes. Denver got the smile, and I get the glare.
"No." Denver says, looking at me with an odd expression on his face.
"Come on, sweetie. Just ten minutes, promise. Then I'll let you get back to your friend." Kelsa acts as if she's never seen me before.
Now Denver's eyes narrow, and he turns to look at her.
"Kelsa, get your fucking hands off of me." Denver commands, and Kelsa slowly removes her fingers from his hair.
"Dennie, baby. Why can't we talk like two adults?"
"Because your brain isn't big enough for you to comprehend what I've been telling you for weeks, Kelsa. Weeks. We're finished, Kelsa." Kelsa stares at Denver as if she still doesn't understand what he's telling her.
I feel that strange prickly sensation one feels when they're being watched. I turn around, and groan when I see that six skinny cheerleaders are watching me.
Great. The restaurant is silent, having noticed what was going on between the football captain and the head cheerleader.
I wince turn back in time to see Kelsa's hand fly in the air and slap Denver's cheek. My eyes widen in surprise, and I look around the restaurant to see who will be willing to give me a ride home.
Sarah, my childhood friend, is seated in a booth three down from mine. Her arm is wrapped around her current boyfriend, Markus Franklin. Markus was the school's resident bad-boy.
Her eyes meet mine, and she gives me a weak smile. She knows I don't want to sit here and be a part of this domestic dispute.
Before I do anything, I'm saved from having to find my own way home. Kelsa runs out of the restaurant sobbing.
I give Denver a weak smile, not sure what to say after that lovely scene.
"Are you ready to leave?" Denver asks, ever so politely. It's like he hadn't just fought with his ex-girlfriend moments ago. His deep green eyes stare at me, waiting for a response.
At my nod, he grabs the check and the money Cole left. We walk to the register, pay for our meal, and head out to the parking lot. Kelsa's nowhere to be found, thankfully.
I follow Denver through the crowded parking lot, to his car. I hear a bit of laughter before it dies. I turn and stare at Denver like he's lost his mind.
I stare at the motorcycle helmet he's wearing. He stares right back at me, a grin on his face. His green eyes are laughing at me, even if he isn't.
"Put this on." He commands, holding out a huge helmet. I stare at him momentarily before grabbing it and putting it on my head.
As he brought the motorcycle to life, I briefly wondered if I was going to make it home alive.
It turns out fate was on my side, because he expertly turned into my driveway a half hour later.
I had been clinging to him the entire ride there, my fear of motorcycles coming out to play. I don't know why I was afraid of them, I just was. It was unexplainable.
"Delilah," Denver says my name, chuckling. I can feel his laughter. My right cheek is pressed against his back, and my eyes are still closed.
My eyes open only when I feel his warm hands on mine. He gently pulls them apart, and I let him go.
"It's okay, darlin'. You're home, safe and sound." Denver's voice is silky smooth, and he's obviously trying to calm my nerves.
"Are you okay?" I ask, working up the courage to open my eyes. My blue eyes stare into his bright green ones.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" He asks, sounding as confident as ever.
"Kelsa." My one word answer is all that needs to be said.
"I'm fine, darlin'. Thanks for asking."
"Okay, good." I murmur, but a part of me knows he's lying. I bet if I were to take off his helmet, his cheek would still be red. Kelsa's slap had been a crack that the whole room heard.
I get enough courage to put my feet back on the ground, and I stand still for several moments. I was afraid that if I did move, I would fall flat on my face.
Out of curiosity, I reach for his helmet. I smile as I catch his eyes widen in shock.
With his helmet off, I can easily see the bright red mark on his cheek. Carefully, I reach out and caress his other cheek. It would hurt him too much to touch his sore cheek.
I jump in surprise, seeing a flash of light coming from the house. My mother is standing in the doorway, watching our interaction. I groan out of embarrassment. My mother is standing in her nightgown, turning the porch light on and off.
"Goodnight, darlin'. You're being summoned," Denver says, grinning at me. His green eyes manage to twinkle in the dark.
"Goodnight, Denver. Thanks for the ride home," I say, smiling weakly at him. After that sweet goodbye (haha), I turn and walk up my walkway.
My mother is waiting for me with an angry expression on her face. She's clearly waiting for an answer.
I sigh into the night, knowing I'm not ready to explain Denver to her.
-end chapter-
Lyrics from Forever the Sickest Kids': Uh Huh. It's what I think Denver was saying in his head when he read the list.