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Chapter Eight.
He still wasn't entirely sure why he had asked her to come for a ride with him. He had actually never had someone on the back of his bike with him before; definitely not a girl with her slim arms wrapped around his waist and her warm cheek resting against his back and her sweet smell reaching his nostrils.
But for the past couple of weeks, they had been exchanging little tokens with one another and he always made sure he never made it obvious he was watching but he would catch her smile every time he left her something new and he knew he liked seeing that smile on her face. He had already admitted that to himself. So much of the time, she looked so damn sad and he liked that he – of all people – could get a girl like her to smile.
He usually thought things through. Most people thought that because he was so quiet, he was slow; trying to figure things out in his head or others thought that because he was a Dixon, he didn't think that much at all before doing something. But neither of those things were true. He was quiet mainly because he didn't like people that much and he didn't like to talk but when it came to having to talk to people, he was quiet because he liked to think things through. And that's another thing that confused him about Beth. Because he had hung up the phone with Karen and he had looked at Beth sitting there and without even thinking about it, he had asked her if she wanted to go on a ride with him. He could have kicked himself.
But then she smiled and he took a breath and for once, spontaneity had paid off.
He didn't know where he was taking her until he realized that on instinct, he had taken her home. To his home. He pulled the bike to a stop in front of the trailer and he shut it off and he felt Beth's arms slip away as she climbed off the bike. He sat there for a moment and turned his head, looking at her, and this girl nearly took his damn breath away. He tried to remind himself that a guy like him never would have a shot with Beth Greene but for once, he seemed to be ignoring that voice in his head because when she smiled at him – slightly out of breath and her cheeks pink – he felt himself wanting to smile a little back.
"You hungry?" He asked, finally climbing off the bike.
She nodded, still smiling. "That was amazing," she then said.
He shrugged though internally, he was glad – and relived – that she had liked it. "I'll take you anytime you want," he then heard himself promise to her and he waited for the burn of regret to rise up in his chest but it never came and Beth just kept smiling.
Inside, he began looking around in the refrigerator and the cabinets for something to make for dinner and Beth stood near the couch, talking on her cell phone, telling her daddy that she'd be home later; that she was eating dinner with a friend that night. Daryl had no idea what Hershel Greene was saying on the other end but whatever it was, Beth looked back towards Daryl before quickly looking away – but not before he could see the blush on her cheeks.
"Need any help?" She asked once she had ended the call and stepped into the small kitchenette area to join him.
Daryl stood in front of the open refrigerator and shook his head, looking at her. "Didn' plan for this. I don't have anythin' to feed company."
She laughed a little at that and he couldn't stop himself from thinking how light and pleasant her laughter was to his ears. "I'm not company," she shook her head. "And don't worry about it. I'm not that hungry anyway."
Daryl stared into the refrigerator at the meager offerings and was glad his back was turned towards her at the moment so she couldn't see his frown. Even though she had told him about her… condition, he told himself that it wasn't any of his business; that it wasn't up to him to make sure she ate. She wasn't a baby. She was a grown woman – young but a woman nonetheless – and what she did to herself was up to her. It wasn't any of his concern just because something not so easily explained was happening between them at the moment.
"Here, Daryl," she said suddenly and he instantly turned to see her holding a can of tomato soup she had gotten from the cabinet. "Do you have cheese? We can have grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup," she told him and was smiling the whole time she did it.
Daryl looked at her for a moment. He didn't get why she looked so damn normal standing there in his trailer. Her hair was long and blonde and wavy and she had braided it before getting onto the bike and now, he found himself wishing it was down, hanging down her back and waving gently as she walked. He knew he had paid too much attention to her hair at the garage when he should have been working. She was wearing a dress – as usual – purple with white polka dots and he tried not to look at the way her collarbone seemed to jut painfully against her skin. Her smile was small but bright and she stood there and it was almost as if this was something that happened every night. Coming home from work and thinking of something to fix for dinner. And they would eat and maybe watch some television or read and then they would get ready for bed and go to sleep together.
He wanted to shake his head at himself because there was absolutely no reason to think of Beth Greene being the sort of girl who lived in a trailer; the sort of girl who lived in a trailer with him. He knew a bit more about her than he once did but he still didn't know enough. He knew that she had a shit ton of baggage and why would he want to invite that kind of thing into his life. His life was complicated enough.
He gave a nod. "Sounds good," he said.
He took out the package of American cheese slices and then began digging in the cabinet for a pot and a pan and he felt Beth brush against him from behind. He turned and saw her opening the refrigerator again, taking out the half stick of butter he had in there. She smiled when she saw him looking.
"I'll make the sandwiches," she volunteered and she didn't seem surprised when he shook his head at that, disagreeing.
"You're the guest," he said, wanting her to think that he wasn't just some dumb trashy redneck; that he had some manners, too.
Beth just smiled though and shook her head. He didn't think he knew anyone who smiled as much as her.
"I'm not a guest. I'm a friend," she said and she said it so easily, Daryl kept watching her as she turned to the stove and found himself wishing that that was actually true.
Maybe it was. Maybe they were friends. Friends? How the hell had that happened? Is that what they were? Daryl had never had that many friends. More than one kid in school had been told by their parents not to play with him and when he was older, it was really just him and Merle and Merle's friends. And now, it was just him again. There was Dale and Carol and Rick – the Sheriff, of all people – but Daryl was on his own and that was the way he both liked it and wanted it. Never in his life think he would be friends with a girl like Beth Greene or that she would actually want to be his friend, too.
He didn't get her.
They sat at the table with their sandwiches and bowls of soup but almost as soon as he sat down, he stood up again, heading towards the refrigerator.
"Want anythin' to drink?" He asked. "Got juice, water, beer and milk."
"Milk sounds good," she said.
"It ain't skim," he felt the need to tell her because didn't girls like drinking that crap?
"If it was, I wouldn't want it," she smiled at him and he stared at her and her smile for a moment too long. He realized what he was doing and he quickly looked away, the tips of his ears feeling hot.
He poured two glasses of the whole milk and then came back to the table, sitting down across from her. He watched her as she folded her hands and bowed her head and said a quick prayer and Daryl watched her, not eating and feeling a little awkward, not too sure what to do. He was pretty sure he hadn't prayed a day in his life. He remembered his mama seemed to have these angel figurines in the house when he was little but he never saw her praying either – and then she died and his dad smashed all of those figurines and Daryl cut his fingers cleaning the glass up.
When Beth was finished, she lifted her head and gave him a small smile before picking up her spoon and dunking it into her soup. And knowing that it was okay to start eating, he picked up his sandwich and took a crunchy bite.
"Good?" Beth asked him.
"'s real good," he said once he had chewed and swallowed and Beth only kept smiling. He watched her look around as they ate and he wondered what she was seeing when she looked around his place.
And as she looked around, Daryl took the time to study her. He noticed how clean she was. Not appearance wise because yeah, she was very clean that way. She was like walking peaches and cream. But he met in the way she behaved. She had asked for a napkin and he had found a brown napkin he had saved from fast food one night and she had draped it over her lap. She wiped her fingers of crumbs from the sandwich over the plate after each bite and she made sure that none were on the table around her. She kept making sure the napkin was still in her lap as if it had gotten up and walked away and she would lift it to her mouth after each sip of soup.
Every action seemed almost meticulous in a way but he didn't ask her about it. Like he reminded himself, it was none of his business.
After they ate, he took their bowls and plates and set it in the sink to be washed later and she stood up, wiping the table down with the napkin before throwing it away and he expected her to tell him that she was ready to go home now. But instead, he watched her as she walked to the couch and sat down as if this was her couch now and she slipped her feet from her shoes. He watched her slip her bare feet again the carpet and then she curled her toes, digging them in. She slipped her hands beneath her thighs as she sat there and he could see the slightest tremor wake through her.
Without a word, Daryl left the sink and crossed towards her. He reached behind her and took the blanket from the back of the couch, shaking it out and then draping it around her shoulders. Her fingers closed around it and she tilted her head up, looking up at him with those big eyes of hers and he felt his throat go completely dry. His hands were slow to fall back to his sides.
"Thank you," she said and her voice was quiet and her smile was soft and she kept looking up at him.
And Daryl felt as if he had just forgotten the entire English language as he kept looking down at her, his throat too dry and his tongue too big and suddenly, the trailer felt even smaller than it was, closing in on him until the walls were pressing against him and there was nowhere for him to go.
He gathered every ounce of discipline he had built within himself over the years and he was finally able to force himself to take a step back. "I should get you home soon," he said even though it actually wasn't what he wanted to say to her at all but he didn't know what he would say to her instead.
Beth nodded and the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips as her eyes fell to look down to her thighs. "Alright," she said and Daryl told himself that he was just imagining the disappointment he swore he heard in her tone.
…
"Hey, Pookie," and he turned his head to see Carol approaching him with a smile.
He hated the nickname but he smirked a little in response. "Hey," he grunted his greeting before turning his eyes back to the books on the shelf in front of him.
He had known Carol for a few years – meeting her and her daughter at the town's diner when he first moved here and she had introduced herself – and liked her. She reminded him so much of his mom sometimes but thankfully, Carol had outlasted her own abusive husband, Ed dying in a car accident a couple years earlier.
"Whatcha looking for?" She asked as she took note of the aisle he was standing in.
Daryl swallowed and didn't look at her. He had tried looking up the books on library's computer catalog system but there weren't that many available and he stared at them now, wondering which one would be the best to read.
He felt like he was doing something wrong and yet, he couldn't seem to stop himself from doing this. He didn't know anything about anorexia or recovering anorexia or whatever the hell it was that Beth was going through. All he knew was that he wanted to do something because as she had said the night before, they were friends. Or he guessed they were. He still wasn't too sure about that.
Carol took note of where he was standing and nodded as if she now understood what he was doing. "Come on," she said, taking his jacket sleeve and giving it a tug.
He followed her from the aisle as she went back to the computer and clacked something into the search engine. She was then off again and he followed her down another aisle – the biography and autobiography section – and she looked for a moment before plucking a paperback down from the shelf and turning towards him, extending it towards him.
He took it and looked down to the cover. Thin by Grace Bowman. He looked back to Carol and didn't ask, knowing the question was pretty clear in his eyes.
Carol gave him a gentle smile. "Medical books can only tell you so much. I think if you read about it from someone who went through the same thing, it will help more," she explained and Daryl looked back down to the cover. She reached out and rubbed his arm. "Beth's lucky to have a friend like you, Daryl," she said.
It didn't surprise him that Carol knew why he was looking to read a book like this. It was a small town and everyone knew about Beth and knew she and Daryl worked at the same garage. It wouldn't take a genius to connect all those dots.
"Thanks," he remembered to say and she gave him another smile.
"Come on. Let's get that checked out for you," she said and left the aisle, heading towards the circulation desk with Daryl behind her, still looking down at the book.
He wondered if this would actually help. He guessed he could just ask Beth things right out but he didn't know how she would react. It seemed like her sister stifled her enough about it and he didn't want Beth thinking that he was going to treat her any differently. Hell, he didn't know how he treated her now but however it was, she seemed to like it. And he didn't know why he wanted to help but he just felt so damn helpless being so clueless around her. And if she said they were friends then Daryl was going to try and be a friend to her and help her if he could.
Or maybe she didn't want him to help. Maybe that was why she liked spending her time with him; because he didn't make her talk about it. Daryl could understand that. He had plenty of things that had happened to him that he never wanted to talk about and he stayed away from people most of the time so they could never ask.
"You still want it?" Carol asked, now standing behind the desk, looking at him and seeing his hesitancy.
He stared down at the book for another moment and then shook his head. "Nah," he said and set the book down in front of her before turning and leaving the library.
It wasn't any of his business anyway.
…
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