Messed Up Page 4

  “Mmm, yummy. Sound delicious.” I replied feeling myself relax.

  Levi’s car was, inexplicably, less than a hundred feet from the arena. Bryce and Noah were already in the car when we got there.

  “Noah, let Chelsea have shot gun,” Levi said with an authoritative edge to his voice.

  Noah began to move without comment, but I quickly interjected, “No. Don’t worry about it. I mean, I am just extra baggage. I’d be happy in the trunk.” I quickly climbed into the back seat next to Bryce.

  The car started quietly and we drove away from the arena. I noticed that the expansive gravel parking lot had morphed into a gigantic grid-locked traffic jam. I could hear Levi on the phone with Toby’s mom, explaining, in a polite and responsible tone, that he would be driving me home.

  “You’re lucky you’re with us, Chelsea,” he said, looking back at me through the rearview mirror, “They’re going to be here for a while,” he gestured to the traffic jam that we’d somehow avoided completely. You don’t know the half of it, I thought to myself.

  As we got on the freeway, Levi reached over to switch on his CD player. Load booming music, reminiscent of what had been blaring in my ears all day, blasted out of the speakers. I could see Levi’s eyes smile in the mirror at the reflexive jolt my body made at the unwelcomed sound. He reached over and pressed a button on the radio. Slow and sad piano music came on. It felt as if it was caressing my bruised eardrums. My body relaxed into the cushy leather seat.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Monumentally,” I sighed.

  We rode in silence. Noah closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep, while Bryce busied himself playing Angry Birds on his iPhone. I gazed out of the window at the dark night, watching as flashes of light from the city slid into the distance. I let the wordless music wash over me.

  Every so often I allowed myself to glance at the review mirror. Each time I did, Levi’s stunning eyes were looking back at me. Eventually, I leaned my head against the cool window and closed my heavy eyes. I could smell the fresh, clean scent of Levi’s sweatshirt. I marveled at how anything could smell so sweet and so masculine at the same time.

  The car stopped and I opened my eyes, realizing we were in front of my house. Levi was out of the car and opening my door before I had come to full consciousness.

  “Hey sleeping beauty,” he said in a gentle whisper.

  “Hey,” I smiled groggily, climbing out of his car and swinging my backpack over my shoulders, “Oh, your sweatshirt,” I realized, beginning to take it off.

  “Keep it. I’ll get it later.” Later is perfect.

  “Thanks. For everything,” I said looking him in straight in the face. I hoped I looked as sincere as I felt.

  “No problem. It’s not every day that I get to come to the rescue of a beautiful woman,” he replied with a smile. Beautiful? Woman? Huh? I nodded slightly, and started to walk toward my house, and then turned back to him.

  “Nice hat, by the way,” I said nodding up to the hat he had illicitly acquired that afternoon.

  “Glad you like it,” he smiled with a wink.

  I walked away feeling like I had just come off the twirly ride at the fair, my stomach and mind in a jumble.

  5

  The next day I was busy for a change, which was good because it made it much easier to screen Toby’s calls; twelve in all. It was my sister, Julie’s twenty-sixth birthday, so my parents and I made the trek to San Francisco to celebrate with her. Top on her list of things she wanted to do for her birthday was to pick out a new pair of True Religion jeans, an obsession for both of us. After a greasy, but delicious meal at a dim sum restaurant, my mom handed over her credit card, reminding Julie that the jeans would pretty much obliterate her birthday money. My parents then opted out of the shopping trip in favor of seeing the new Dali exhibit at the Museum of Modern Art.

  After an obligatory stop at Starbucks for vente caramel lattes, we headed straight for the True Religion shop in Union Square. Ah, the glory of stylee denim.

  I followed my sister up and down the aisles holding out my arms as she piled them high with denim. “I feel like your personal Sherpa,” I commented sarcastically.

  “Aren’t you?” she joked. I was actually more like an indentured servant to my sister and had been since the day my parents brought me home from the hospital when she was ten. My whole life I had been trying to work off the debt I carried for being the surprise sister she had not wanted. This relationship worked relatively well for us, all things considered.

  I trailed my sister into her dressing room hoisting the stack of jeans on the bench next to me. The fashion show began. We had a well designed system for choosing jeans: 1. Rate the jeans on a scale of one to five for overall fit, 2. Determine the best function for the jeans (going out, every day wear, first date, time-of-the-month, etcetera), 3. Establish the ideal shoes to wear with the jeans. The whole process could take hours. So I hunkered down with my latte in hand.

  Julie pulled on a pair of flair pants with thick stitching down the leg and amber buttons on the pockets, and inspected herself in the mirror.

  “Hmm… Going out, I think,” I commented.

  “I don’t know… A cute t-shirt and my ‘Verses would dress them down,”

  “No way. The buttons are way too over the top for tennis shoes,” I said definitively.

  “You’re right little sister. I’ve taught you well,” she pulled them off and reached for another pair, “So how are you holding up without Hannah? Mom says you seem marginally less mopey.”

  “I’m okay. Just bored,” I replied, refolding the discarded pair of jeans, “I did meet a cute boy though. Actually more than cute,” I corrected, “incredibly, irresistibly hot.”

  “Ooh. Give it to me from the top. No details spared.”

  “There’s really not that much to tell. He’s only vaguely aware of my existence,” I said, but then went on to tell the whole story starting at my first sighting of Levi at 7-Eleven, straight through the humiliating day from hell at the scream-a-thon, (er, I mean concert), to the witty and overtly flirty finale last night. Julie got a real kick out of the embarrassing parts, practically screaming when I mentioned earplugs.

  “Sounds like the attraction is mutual,” she surmised, “Sleeping beauty and all that.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe he is just a huge player,” I pointed out.

  “Does it matter? If he’s flirting with you then he’s at least interested. Not every guy you date has to be boyfriend material, Chels. Just have some fun. Keep it casual,” she looked at me with suddenly serious eyes.

  “If you say so Dr. Phil,” I snorted.

  “Take it from me. Life is too short and you are too young to be looking for a serious relationship,” she returned her attention to her reflection and the bootleg black denim she had squeezed into, “Umm. These are hideous,” she frowned.

  I was still seeing mounds of pricey denim in my dreams that night when the phone rang loudly, jolting me to consciousness. I stumbled from my bed, grabbing the phone quickly from its base. I glanced at my alarm clock-- one thirty-two AM. I reasoned that it must be Hannah calling from her strange new time zone.

  “Hello?” I said, sure I sounded more asleep than awake.

  “Chelsea? It’s Bryce,” What the hell? I thought confused, is this Toby’s new approach to getting me on the phone?

  “What do you want Bryce?” I grumbled letting my voice sound as annoyed as I felt.

  “I’m with Levi. Can we come over? We need to talk to you about something.”

  “What? It’s the middle of night,” I answered with less irritation now that I knew who he was with.

  “Chelsea,” the voice changed, “Its Levi. Can I come in? I have a proposition for you,” his supple voice was irresistible.

  “Yeah, I guess. Where are you?” I asked while quickly pulling my hair into a ponytail, suddenly wide awake.

  “In front of your house.” I peeked out of my window and saw him leaning
against his car waving up at me with a small smile. A thousand and one butterflies stirred in the pit of my stomach.

  “Okay, but be really quiet. You’ll have to come in through the window,” I began to describe the intricacies of getting onto the roof below my window, but he cut me off.

  “I’ve got it.” Click.

  I had just enough time to check myself in the mirror, gently patting each cheek to elicit a little color, and applying a coat of Chap Stick to my lips. Could be worse, I thought of my reflection. I heard a light tapping on my window. I pulled back the curtain to reveal perfection incarnate. Levi was dressed entirely in black. Black baseball hat pulled down low on his head. Black long sleeved t-shirt, just small enough to insinuate his amazing chest. Black Dickies pants, not too baggie, not to tight. Black Converse high tops. He was an adorable version of a mime, minus the white face make-up, of course.

  I took a deep breath and slid the window open. Levi silently, and with surprising grace, pulled himself through the open window and jumped down onto the floor lightly, careful to avoid stepping on my bed; what a gentleman, huh? He stood in the middle of my dimly lit room looking around with interest. I became suddenly aware of the clear juxtaposition of his strong masculine figure in my tiny, baby pink room.

  “Pink,” he commented immediately.

  “It’s my favorite color,” I said feeling a little like a second grader. I had painted my room this particular shade of thistle pink when I was in the eighth grade. Everybody had given me crap about it, but I loved the color and the warm glow it seemed to produce.

  Levi walked over to a book shelf in the corner of my room and ran his finger over the spines of the books, quickly reading the titles. I wondered what he was thought of my literary selections. He then picked up a frame that rested on the top shelf. It held my favorite picture of me and Hannah; a black and white photograph taken at my cousin’s wedding. We were both laughing. Hannah’s eyes were closed and she was holding her stomach, as if something was so funny it hurt. I had my head turned to the side and I was whispering something in her ear.

  “This is an awesome picture,” he commented quietly, “What are you guys laughing about?”

  “I don’t remember,” I sighed, a wave of sadness rolled over me. God, I really wish I did.

  “Who is she?” he asked glancing up at me, his eyes staring directly into mine, searching.

  “Hannah. My best friend,” I realized this was the first time I had ever called her that. I wondered if I had just jinxed our entire friendship by breaking our prohibition on the best friend title.

  Levi placed the frame back on the shelf, walked over to my CD player and began picking through the CD cases. Uh-oh, I thought, this is the shit in his pants part. I looked away, embarrassed by what he must be thinking.

  “Hmm… We’ll have to do something about this,” he said, smiling crookedly at me. He then pulled my desk chair close to my bed where I was stationed, and sat down. He turned his hat around so the bill was backwards and looked at me seriously. “So here’s the situation, Chelsea,” he said, suddenly all business, “We’re a little irritated by the way Toby has been behaving lately. With you and in other ways as well,” he spoke fluidly, calmly, “So we’d like to teach him a little lesson, but we’re going to need your help.”

  “Sure,” I heard myself agreeing, “but what are you going to do?”

  “You don’t need to worry about the details. All I need from you is to be the bait.”

  “The bait? Wow, I’m flattered,” I said, heavy on the sarcasm.

  “What I want you to do is text Toby,” he continued, ignoring my comment, “Tell him to meet you at the benches in Vistas in twenty minutes,” he checked his watch, “At two o’clock. I’ll help you sneak out to meet him. You’ll be back in your bed by two thirty. Promise. I’ve already taken care of everything else.”

  “Okay,” I nodded. “But what are you going to do to him?” I pressed. He reached his hand forward and brushed his thumb against my cheek. My heart skipped.

  “Don’t worry about it. Just trust me.”

  You know how people are always talking about trusting their gut? Oprah has entire episodes dedicated to this topic. Guests come onto her show and blather on about the time they listened to their instincts and saved themselves from instant death or scams or whatever. Well, I am here to say that is bullshit. It is your brain you should trust. That is the place where logic and reason reside. It was my gut that was so entirely swept away by Levi in all his hotness, that I blindly followed his instructions. Without so much as a second thought, I texted Toby, changed into my favorite jeans and a hoodie, and followed Levi out the window.

  Levi lowered himself down off my roof, using the side of the house for traction. I hadn’t made this escape in a long time, but my feet knew instinctually where to be placed on the lattice that ran down the side of the house. As I made my descent, Levi placed his hands around my waist to guide me. My heart fluttered as I felt the warmth of his fingers press against my skin just above the top of my jeans. When my feet were firmly planted on the ground, Levi grabbed my hand and led me to the street.

  “We’ll need to take your car,” he said simply. I looked around, noticing his car, as well as Bryce, were nowhere to be seen.

  “But, it’s really loud when it starts up,” I whispered back, “My parents will hear.”

  “I’ll drive,” he said reaching out his hand for the keys, “Trust me.”

  I handed them over like a well trained parrot, and we silently got into my car. Levi put my car in neutral, released the emergency break, and looked over his shoulder. We rolled backwards down the hill, until my house was out of sight, at which point he turned the key in the ignition and my car grumbled to life. Retracing our path, we drove back up the hill and past my quiet, sleeping house. I relaxed a bit and looked over at him.

  “You’re looking very Jason Borne this evening,” I remarked of his incognito attire.

  “And you’re looking better than I remembered,” he replied. I could feel my face turn red at the complement and was thankful it was dark in the car.

  We drove to the top of my street and turned right and headed up a steeper hill. About halfway up he parked at the entrance to the park. Vistas was the large county park that abruptly cut off the expansive suburban development where I lived. It contained two lakes and a dozen or so trails winding over hills and in and out of steep valleys. The trailhead we had stopped at was the main entrance to the park, and from there I could see Hannah’s house, its backside staring down at me. It looked dark and gloomy. I thought about the stranger asleep in Hannah’s room. How different would this night be if Hannah were here? Would I even be on this strange mission had she been?

  We walked up the gravel path toward the first set of benches where kids from my high school often met to take bong loads and suck down Jell-O shots. The moon was nearly full and in the light I could see the benches were vacant. As we approached, Levi gave his final set of instructions.

  “Toby should be here in five minutes,” he said glancing at his watch for confirmation.

  “If he doesn’t flake on me again,” I pointed out.

  “He won’t,” Levi said looking serious, “When he gets to you, just start talking about whatever seems natural. Whatever happens just know that you are completely safe.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked weakly.

  “I’ll be right over there,” he pointed to a thick cropping of trees.

  “Levi,” I said beginning to feel uneasy, “Tell me what’s gonna happen.”

  Just then the sound of a car door closing rang through the quiet night. I looked back at Levi with fear suddenly reaching my gut.

  “You’ll be safe. Trust me,” he repeated sternly. He gave me one last look that I couldn’t quite read before running noiselessly into the thicket of trees.

  I could feel my heart beating in my chest, loud and fast, as the realization that I may have made a huge mistake by blindly following Levi set
in. Although my palms were warm and clammy, I began to shiver. I sat down on one of the benches and took a deep breath. From where I sat on the hill, I could see all the way to my elementary school. I could see the pool where I’d learned to swim, and the house where I had my first babysitting job. I marveled for a second at the strange path my life had taken that night.

  I heard the crunching of gravel under his feet before I could see him. Toby came around the bend in the path with his usual eager smile on his face. What a puppy dog, I thought.

  “Chels!” It’s so good to see you!” he exclaimed, like we were old friends meeting in the supermarket.

  “Hey Toby,” I responded, trying to keep my voice steady, “Thanks for coming.” He sat down beside me on the bench. I kept my eyes fixed on the neighborhood below, avoiding eye contact. “Listen, Toby. I’ve just been thinking that… I wanted to make it really clear that… You know that we’re just friends, okay?”

  He was silent, frozen. For a moment I thought it was because of what I had said, but when I turned to look at him, I saw he was staring up the path toward the hills behind us. I followed his gaze. My body froze when I saw what he was looking at. A group of four men were walking rapidly toward us. Each of them dressed entirely in black, including, and most frighteningly, their ski masks. For a quick instant I thought perhaps one of the figures was Levi. But they were all much larger than him. These were not adolescent boys, they were men, big men. And one thing was blatantly clear, they were coming for us.

  If my heart was beating fast before, it was now pounding with such speed and power that I thought it might explode out of my chest. I stood up, bracing myself. Toby hesitated for a split second and then began to run. He hadn’t made it two steps before the men surrounded us. The one nearest to Toby raised his leg and kicked him directly in the back, sending him tumbling to the dirt. I watched, as the side of Toby’s face made contact with a large rock on the ground. Blood splattered out from his mouth and dripped down his chin. He was still for a second, his horrified eyes looking right at me, as if pleading for help. But what can I do? I thought helplessly.