Chapter 4
Dinner is a quiet affair. Sarah and I made a decision last week that we were going to try to "reintroduce" obsolete words and terms back into the vernacular. Dubbing things "affairs," whether quiet or otherwise, is an example of this. (Never mind, of course, that this entire conversation just took place in my head, therefore my "quiet affair" statement isn't exactly dazzling the masses.)
"So," Holly says, "You're going to be riding with Ty and Sully tomorrow." I nod. "Nervous?"
"Not really," I answer. Truth is, I haven't really thought about it. I've been so caught up in the idea of having a kick-ass project that the idea of being in any kind of danger has completely eluded me. However, now that I'm actually thinking about it—
"You're going to be fine, you know," Holly says, as if reading my thoughts. I've heard about women syncing up the menstrual cycles, but mind-reading…?
"I know," I say, but it comes out slightly squeakier than I intended. "But what if—something happens?"
"Well, look," Holly says matter-of-factly. "You never know what can happen anywhere, but I have a feeling that Ty would do whatever's necessary to protect his goddaughter. And, look, if you get too freaked out, they can raise one of us on the radio and we'll drop you home in the bus." She smiles meaningfully, and I know that she only added that last bit to appeal to my sense of pride—no matter what, I would never admit that something was too much for me.
"Okay," I say with a smile, and to my delight, my voice is pitch-perfect.
The rest of the night is a quiet affair (ha!) as well. I conveniently "forget" about my chem homework, and after reading on the couch for a little while I decide to take a shower and turn-in early. While I'm changing in my room, it occurs to me that this whole reintroducing words business is making me sound like a dweeb. 'Turn-in'? And, while I'm on the subject, 'dweeb'? Whatever, now is not the time, I tell myself as I slip my shirt over my head.
Showers aren't quite up to par, thinking-wise, as baths are. This doesn't stop me this time though, as my reflecting mood from earlier returns. When I step out of the shower ten minutes later, I've once again given myself a lot to think about (call it "reflecting mood homework"). Believe it or not, I don't think I'm the type to over-analyze things (despite what my friends and diaries might tell you—well, the friends anyway. And if my diaries tell you anything, run. And not just because of the things I've written in them, but because, well, you've got a diary talking to you!) Um, anyway, what was I saying? Oh, right. Over-analyze? Me? Nah.
I change into my pajamas when I get back into my room, and upon catching site of myself in the mirror, I immediately get disgruntled with the state of my hair (Why does it always have to frizz?) I go back into the living room, and find Holly. She's sitting on the couch that I vacated (vacated…is that used anymore? This reintroducing stuff can get tricky).
"I think I'm going to turn-in," I say (score! This time I actually said one out loud!)
Holly looks up and gives me a hint of a knowing smile before, "Okay sweetie." I see her glance at the clock on the cable box and see her slight surprise that's it still pretty early. "That's a good idea, you should get a good night's sleep."
I kiss her good night, and go back to my room. Excited though I am about the prospect of going to bed before my "standard time," I decide I can't without reading for a few minutes first. Some habits die hard…except—nah, I'm too tired for once to argue with myself.