Luke's Crazy California Christmas (9 page)

“Perfect, thanks.” I took out my cell and was just about to text Alisha when I remembered my other problem. “Charli…”

“You need a car. Find out the address, and I'll ask Mom if you can borrow her car.”

Charli had been the annoying little sister I never wanted, and yet she'd suddenly come to my rescue just when I needed it.

~*~

I stood in front of the door at 1274 Sleepywell Avenue, but I didn't have quite enough courage to actually knock. Especially when I viewed the bright yellow, sporty SUV in the driveway. Did her mom's cousin have a backup vehicle? I raised my hand, held it up to the door, and…nothing.
Man up, Luke Ryan.

What could she do to me besides hate my guts for all eternity and slam the door in my face?

After knocking, I stood back and waited with my arms crossed.

Less than a minute later, the door swung open a crack. Andrea's face peered out at me with her greenish eyes in full view. “Luke, what are you doing here? I told you not to come.”

This conversation sounded a lot like the one I'd had with Charli. I guess I understood why she came over. She thought she was helping me. Now I needed to help Andrea.

“Before you slam the door in my face, let me talk.”

She firmed her lips, but she didn't say anything or close the door. That had to be considered positive.

“I know you said not to come, but I had to. I couldn't let you take the Metro. You have no idea what you're in for.” She didn't. She came from a smallish Southern town—the kind where you drive on mostly single-lane country roads.

Her mouth moved slightly toward a smile, and then turned back down to a frown. “Georgia's at the garage right now with the mechanic, going over the estimate to fix her car, but don't worry.” Her mouth turned into a pout as if she held back crying. She had redness around her eyes.

I hated knowing that I was the reason she was so upset.

“I've got it covered.” Her voice broke slightly. She started to shut the door.

I stuck my foot in the way.

“I know you're mad and you have every right to be, but please can you give me a second?”

We stood close with only inches between us and stared into each other's eyes. It was like time had temporarily slowed just for the two of us.

The door drew slightly open, and I stepped back again.

She tilted her head, her mouth straight, and she waited.

“I heard what happened from Alisha. She was worried about you and so was I. I know you don't think you need me, but…”

Her mouth puckered for a second. “What makes you think I don't need you, Luke Ryan?”

Did that mean she did still need me? Because I most definitely still needed her. “Then let me drive you today.”

From behind her, a voice called out her name. A distinctly male voice.

She glanced back and then was joined in the doorway by a guy in a USC football T-shirt and cut-off jean shorts. He was broad shouldered and shorter than me but built like he played football. From his blond scruffy hair and tanned skin, he was also a surfer. Of course, around here both could be true.

“This is Gary,” Andrea introduced.

Gary worried me more than the idea of her taking the Metro alone.

“He's the son of Georgia's neighbor, who has offered to drive me to my audition. He goes to USC.”

“Yeah, go Trojans!” He pumped his arm in the air.

“And, Gary, this is my friend Luke.” At least she'd called me a friend and not the scumbag that just broke her heart.

Gary grinned wide as if he knew something I didn't. “Hey, man, nice to meet you.” The way he looked at Andrea made me clench my hands into fists. “We should get going if you want to make it on time.”

“No need, Gary. I'm here now. I'm taking her.”

Gary scrutinized me with his pale blue eyes. He set a hand on Andrea's shoulder. “It's OK. I got it. I wouldn't feel right letting old Georgia down now that I said I'd do it.” He knew exactly how to play me.

I grabbed Andrea's hand and pulled her out of the doorway. “Like I said, I'm taking her.” I wasn't taking no for an answer. If I had to, I'd toss her over my shoulder and sprint out of there. Threading my fingers with Andrea's, I didn't give Gary a chance to contradict me as I led Andrea down the driveway.

“Luke, what are you doing?” She tried to pull her hand away, but I wouldn't let it go.

“I'm saving you, that's what.”

We made it to the street where I'd parked, and I unlocked the door and held it open for her.

She stared at me, and I could tell she debated whether to comply or not. “I don't have time to argue with you. Do you know how to get there?”

“Sure.”

“Really?”

“I've got it all mapped out on my GPS.”

“Fine.” She moved inside the car, and I shut the door.

Soon we were driving on the 10 Freeway toward USC.

Silence pervaded the vehicle.

Andrea was dressed in nice dark jeans and a white lacy blouse. She had her light brown hair clipped back from her face, exposing the rosy tint of her cheeks. Her neck seemed rigidly set to look forward so she wouldn't have to look at me. Yeah, she was embarrassed and angry that she'd had to succumb to allowing me, her ex, to drive her to this appointment—this audition that had been a huge bone of contention between us and part of the reason that I'd let her break things off.

“I can't believe you did that,” she uttered softly—so quietly I almost couldn't hear it over the roar of Heather's American muscle car.

“Did what?”

“Gary would have taken me. I can't believe you embarrassed me like that.”

“Embarrassed you? Your parents would flip if they knew you were driving alone with that guy.”

Her mouth slanted to the side, but I could tell she knew I was right. “Georgia has known him since he was in elementary.”

“That doesn't make him safe. I saw the way he was looking at you.”

“How was he looking at me?” She glanced at me, her eyebrows lowered.

“He was getting ideas. And not clean and proper ones.”

She sighed and her mouth firmed. “I guess you think I should thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

“I didn't actually thank you.”

“No, but you're welcome anyway.” For some reason, I smiled at her.

She went back to silence, and I wracked my brain with something else to say.

“Have you decided if you're going to stay or go back yet?” She asked the question but didn't look at me.

“Um, no, I mean, I've decided against it.” Whether we got back together or not, I knew I couldn't move back with Dad, no matter how great he wanted to paint it. It would be awkward and painful to see Andrea and not be with her, but being separated by three thousand miles would be worse. “I couldn't leave my mom and everyone else who matters to me back there.”

Her head tilted slightly as she observed me. “Really. I thought you might like to be back home, especially after everything you said yesterday.”

“Andrea, yesterday was just…just idiotic. I didn't even know what I was saying half the time. I wish I could unsay it.”

She sniffed. “But you did say it, which means you've been thinking it. So don't try to act like it was all some accident.”

“No, not an accident exactly. It's just…”

“Luke, I don't want to talk about it. It's awkward enough that you're driving me. I just wondered, that's all.”

“I'm going back to North Carolina in a few days.”

“So you said.” She crossed her arms and looked out the front windshield.

“Being here has reminded me that it's not home. Home means something more than where you were born and lived most of your life.”

She curved her neck to look at me. She nodded as if she got it. Of course she did. This was Andrea. Yeah, there were times that she made my brain spin with the many directions her mind could move in the midst of one single thought, but if there was one person in this world who got me—who understood me—it was her.

While Andrea had her interview and audition, I toured the campus on my own.

Dad would have had a conniption fit if he knew, but it's not like I was seriously considering USC. I had to do something to pass the time. It gave me time to think. I had to say something to Andrea—do something—to convince her we'd made a mistake yesterday. But what? From her attitude, I could tell I wouldn't be able to convince her with mere words.

I bought something to eat and found an empty outside table. From my backpack, I pulled out Andrea's journal. I'd thought about returning it to her, but I couldn't. It was my last physical attachment to her. It must be how Dad felt about giving up Monica's guitar. But maybe I had an idea of how I could give her journal back and put everything the way it should be.

I'd spent time reading over her journal, but I had yet to write in it. Andrea had suggested that writing in her journal might help me with all the problems and worries I'd had. But I hadn't written a word. In fact, I'd been avoiding doing it or even praying. Instead, I'd let my fears and insecurities get the better of me. And now we were broken up. If I wanted to make an impact on Andrea, I had to show her I was serious—serious about my relationship with her and God.

OK, Lord, give me the words, because I am no writer, but I know You've done amazing things through the most unremarkable people in history. I am the vessel—now use me.

9

Driving Andrea home turned out to be much calmer than the drive out there. I could tell she was a little giddy about her audition. She'd smiled at me as soon as she saw me pull up in the car. It was almost like it used to be before…before yesterday. Had it only been one day? Then her reserved guise fell back into place like a curtain.

“It went well?” I asked when she got into the car.

“I think so.” She then went on to tell me all about it, which surprised me, but she couldn't seem to contain her excitement. “It's not like I'm planning to go to school out here, but it's nice having options.”

“Yeah, it is. You're right. That's why I've decided to seriously consider UCLA.”

Her excited expression dropped, but she nodded her head. “It's probably wise. Having options, I mean.”

At the curb in front of her cousin's house, I handed her the journal. “Thanks, but I figured you'd want it back.”

She took it, but she seemed upset rather than pleased that I'd returned it. “Thanks.” Then she jumped from the car and raced up to the house as though I'd done something wrong. Didn't she want her journal back? She'd said it was a loan. Now that we weren't together, I figured she'd want it back. Why did she seem to confound me at times like these?

I went home to Dad's and locked myself in my room. And I waited. Would she see it right away? Would she call me? Would she care? I set the cellphone on the bedside table and stared at it as though willing it to ring. It didn't. I dozed on and off through the night.

My bleary eyes took in the clock.
11:59 PM.
No calls.
2:43 AM.
Still no calls. I picked up the phone and checked email and social networks. Yeah, everything seemed to be working. Why hadn't she called? She might never see what I wrote. What if she flew home tomorrow and stuck her journal in a drawer and never looked at it again?

At 9:18 AM, I woke with a start when the phone buzzed. I reached for it, missed, nearly knocked it on the floor, and then caught it. By that time, my heart was pounding so hard my entire body seemed to be pulsating. I looked at the messages. It wasn't Andrea. My thumping heart sank into the depressed place I'd been trying to avoid. It still wasn't her. No, it was Charli.

I have an idea. Text me ASAP! Time is of the essence!!

What?

Andrea is leaving today, right?

Yes!
Why did she want to torture me with this?

My mom works for the airline, remember?

And this helps me how?

Mom can put you on the same flight. You can go back together and by the time you hit EST, you will have fixed everything.

I didn't think it would be possible, but Charli made me smile. She thought it would be as easy as that. But she did give me an idea.

Is your mom home?

Yeah.

I'm coming over. You've given me an idea.

~*~

I offered Heather some money, but she shook her head. “I'm not taking your money, Luke. I'll make a call and we'll make this happen.” She grinned at me.

“But the roses and everything cost money.” I tried to push the bills into her hand.

She pushed the money away. “Consider it my Christmas present to you.”

“But you already got me that sweater.”

“And I'm sure you loved it.”

“Red is my favorite color,” I joked with a grin.

“It's my chance to play Cupid. Oh wait, wrong holiday, isn't it?” Her laugh sounded so much like Charli's. I guess I could understand what Dad saw in Heather. She wasn't just pretty. She actually had a pretty good heart.

Charli emerged from the kitchen with a tray laden with snacks. She had that princess movie playing on the TV. “And after this, I get my sketch of you.”

I prepared to decline.

“I leave in two days. You can't refuse me, can you?” She batted her eyes at me.

“Fine. One.” I held my index finger out to her. “That's it.”

We took a seat on the couch to watch the movie, but my mind just wasn't there. I was too consumed with thoughts of Andrea.

Tomorrow she'd board her plane and then the flight attendant would present her with three long-stemmed red roses tied together with red and blue ribbons (her favorite superhero's colors) and a note requesting she look in the journal.

The thought set my stomach to churning.