Chapter 4.
I really think we did okay. I mean, Mrs. Dewitt was totally normal with us, and the kids didn't say anything either. Kids are very quick to comment if they notice something amiss. So maybe we have this 'act naturally' thing down already. The journey home was a different story – Charlie drove us, and he seemed to know that something was up. He kept looking sideways at me, and glancing in the rear-view mirror at Abby. After a while, he gave in and asked us what was wrong. Nothing, we told him. Nothing at all. Long day. I suppose he was concerned that we weren't yakking away as usual. Even when we've argued, we still like to gossip.
My brothers think that there are only three situations in which I can keep quiet. One is if I'm mad at someone, and am giving them the silent treatment. That doesn't last long. I'm more of a shouter. Another is when I've done something dreadful, or found out about something horrible, and I'm thinking about it. But then I usually have a certain face to match it, apparently. The third is if my face is otherwise occupied. Eating, tooth- brushing, laughing hysterically, yawning and making out are all acceptable times for Kristy to be not talking. Any other time and there must be something wrong. Therefore we must push and probe until she cracks. This did not bode well for my immediate future. I had to break the silence. But I couldn't speak my mind. I didn't think I should say 'Abby, come closer, I really really want to kiss you,' in front of Charlie while he was trying to drive. It might be dangerous. I leaned over and turned on the radio. That distracted everybody. Including me.
Back at home, sitting alone in my room and trying to think, I was totally unprepared. One minute it was just me, the floor and a big white teddy bear I was hugging, the next I suddenly found myself sprawled and flattened, surrounded by my two big brothers. They don't knock. I've learned to get dressed without showing any flesh at all. After I had yelled at them for not knocking (a tradition), and hit them both over the head for scaring me, I calmed down, threw them a wounded look and ordered them to leave. They didn't. They wanted to know what was wrong.
I could have told them, I suppose, but I was scared. Scared of how they'd react, that they might not be able to keep it to themselves. Scared that they might be disgusted or upset or angry. Even scared that they might be thrilled, or tell me that it wasn't a surprise. I tried so hard to tell them anyway. But the words just wouldn't come out. So I lied. I told them I was having guy trouble. They both backed off a little instantly. Charlie asked if they could help in any way. I told them, sure, teach me how to work out and express my own feelings, and possibly to read minds, too. That'd be a huge help. They laughed and left my room, telling me, whatever it is, don't let it get you down. I didn't dare tell them, but when I thought about the relationship I was starting up, I felt anything but down.
Abby called at six. I don't know why I was surprised. She had told me she would call. I suppose because when a guy says 'I'll call you' it usually means 'at some point in the next three weeks when you've given up hope and sound all pathetic and desperate'. I always hated that. But Abby called. She told me that there was a new, cute little restaurant, on the outskirts of town, which not too many people knew about yet. We arranged to meet in half an hour to go there. When we hung up, a huge wall of panic hit me. I was about to go on my first official date with Abby.
I really think we did okay. I mean, Mrs. Dewitt was totally normal with us, and the kids didn't say anything either. Kids are very quick to comment if they notice something amiss. So maybe we have this 'act naturally' thing down already. The journey home was a different story – Charlie drove us, and he seemed to know that something was up. He kept looking sideways at me, and glancing in the rear-view mirror at Abby. After a while, he gave in and asked us what was wrong. Nothing, we told him. Nothing at all. Long day. I suppose he was concerned that we weren't yakking away as usual. Even when we've argued, we still like to gossip.
My brothers think that there are only three situations in which I can keep quiet. One is if I'm mad at someone, and am giving them the silent treatment. That doesn't last long. I'm more of a shouter. Another is when I've done something dreadful, or found out about something horrible, and I'm thinking about it. But then I usually have a certain face to match it, apparently. The third is if my face is otherwise occupied. Eating, tooth- brushing, laughing hysterically, yawning and making out are all acceptable times for Kristy to be not talking. Any other time and there must be something wrong. Therefore we must push and probe until she cracks. This did not bode well for my immediate future. I had to break the silence. But I couldn't speak my mind. I didn't think I should say 'Abby, come closer, I really really want to kiss you,' in front of Charlie while he was trying to drive. It might be dangerous. I leaned over and turned on the radio. That distracted everybody. Including me.
Back at home, sitting alone in my room and trying to think, I was totally unprepared. One minute it was just me, the floor and a big white teddy bear I was hugging, the next I suddenly found myself sprawled and flattened, surrounded by my two big brothers. They don't knock. I've learned to get dressed without showing any flesh at all. After I had yelled at them for not knocking (a tradition), and hit them both over the head for scaring me, I calmed down, threw them a wounded look and ordered them to leave. They didn't. They wanted to know what was wrong.
I could have told them, I suppose, but I was scared. Scared of how they'd react, that they might not be able to keep it to themselves. Scared that they might be disgusted or upset or angry. Even scared that they might be thrilled, or tell me that it wasn't a surprise. I tried so hard to tell them anyway. But the words just wouldn't come out. So I lied. I told them I was having guy trouble. They both backed off a little instantly. Charlie asked if they could help in any way. I told them, sure, teach me how to work out and express my own feelings, and possibly to read minds, too. That'd be a huge help. They laughed and left my room, telling me, whatever it is, don't let it get you down. I didn't dare tell them, but when I thought about the relationship I was starting up, I felt anything but down.
Abby called at six. I don't know why I was surprised. She had told me she would call. I suppose because when a guy says 'I'll call you' it usually means 'at some point in the next three weeks when you've given up hope and sound all pathetic and desperate'. I always hated that. But Abby called. She told me that there was a new, cute little restaurant, on the outskirts of town, which not too many people knew about yet. We arranged to meet in half an hour to go there. When we hung up, a huge wall of panic hit me. I was about to go on my first official date with Abby.