Smile

"Soo?" Tom runs over to me the next day in school, a smile plastered on his face. His books were tucked between his arm and chest, and the short sleeved v-neck he wore caused me to stare for a moment, just before I realized that I was doing it.

"So what?" I shoved my books into my locker. The end of the day had not come quickly enough, and I was eager to get home.

"Are you coming with me to the beach tonight?" He leaned against the locker beside mine, and I stared at him.

"I wasn't aware I was going to go as your date," I mumbled, yanking my bag out of the damn metal compartment. It hit my legs as I slung it over my shoulder. "Do you really want me to go?"

Tom grinned. "Yeah. I mean, besides all of those times I put gum in your hair and threw mud at you, we had some pretty good times, right?" I rolled my eyes, and with a scoff, started towards the parking lot. I could hear his hurried footsteps behind me as he tried to catch up.

"Tom," I said, pulling out my car keys and looking at him. "It sounds like a lot of fun, but I'm not sure your posse of mutant friends are really people I want to hang out with." I opened the back door of my car and threw my bag in carelessly. He leaned against my driver door, stalling me.

"What do I have to do to get you to the beach tonight?" He crossed his arms, a smile still playing on his lips.

"What's in it for you, anyway?" I attempted to push him out of the way of my car door, but he didn't budge. "You're trying awfully hard to be friends with me."

He sighed, and pushed his hair out of his face. "I don't know. I suppose it's because we live across the street from each other and I hardly know you at all." For a moment, I thought he was being sincere, but then I realized that this was Tom that I was talking to. Tom was never sincere.

"You're kidding, right?" I tried harder to push him out of the way, but it seemed that Tom was just a little bit more balanced and stronger than I was. Heh, maybe more than a little.

"No, not at all. C'mon. I really do want you to go."

I stared at him, heaving a sigh. "If I go.. if I go," I pointed a finger at him, "then I'm holding you accountable if I'm home past curfew." Tom beamed, and nodded. I swear, he's on crack, or something.

"I'll pick you up at eight."

*

"What took you so fucking long to get home?" Dad yelled as I walked in through the front door. "I've been waiting for twenty minutes. I need you to go to the gas station." I threw my bag into the front closet, and sighed heavily. Of course.

"Why can't you just go to the gas station yourself?" I countered as I kicked off my shoes. "Besides, exercise could do you a little bit of good, don't you think?" With a tilt of my head at him, I bolted up the stairs to my bedroom before he could get me. Not that he would make up the stairs. His stupid fat-ass could hardly climb the porch steps.

"Laura! Get your ass back down here right now!" He called after me. I heard three footsteps before they stopped. "Just wait - as soon as you come down you're dead!"

I threw my door open. "It couldn't get any worse than living here!" The slam of my bedroom door made the walls of the house shake. Ever since Todd left, Dad has been Mr. Bitter. Todd was his glory child, and even though the rest of us could see Todd was miserable, Dad ignored it. They had the very typical father-son relationship, making model airplanes and ships in bottles. The two of them went fishing every other weekend, sometimes taking Nate with them (but he was too little to remember).

And then Todd decided he wanted to go to college on the other side of the country. Dad threw a fit, Mom cried for days, and that was that. Todd only shows up every once in a while for the holidays, and even though he was my best friend, it still feels like he isn't there.

I pulled out my cell phone, and pressed four, speed-dialing my brother. I needed to talk to him, even if I did feel a little bitter towards him. "Hey lady," he answered after four rings. In the background, I could hear jazz music, and the sound of a baby crying. My nephew.

"Can I come live with you?" I asked, not sure if I was serious or not.

"What did he do this time?"

"Everything." I sighed, and curled up into a ball, tucking my other hand underneath my pillow. "He hates me. I swear."

"Laura, he couldn't hate you even if he tried." That's what he always said, and maybe I believed it. I sighed again, this time more softly. "So other than that, what's up? You haven't called in almost a week."

"Do you remember Tom Baczak?" I sat up, pushing my dark hair over my shoulders.

"Oh, yeah. He put a frog in your shoes once, and I wanted to strangle him." Todd laughed quietly to himself.

"He's been acting really weird lately. Like," I sighed, "last week in English, he wanted to be my partner. And he asked me to go to the beach with him and his friends tonight."

"That's weird. Hey, sorry I can't talk. Vera needs my help with Daniel. I'll call you tomorrow, ok? Tell me how your date goes."

I sighed. Todd did this a lot more often than he would admit. Without even saying goodbye, he hung up the phone and I sat on my bed. Maybe a night on the beach would really help me clear my head. I wasn't looking forward to having to put up with John and whoever the heck else was going to be there (but if they hung out with Tom and John, they probably weren't any good). It was pointless to talk to Sam. He'd just throw me his cynical, 'I hate the world' ideals and try to convince me to go over to his house and watch horror movies. Weirdo.

My time was spent finding something to wear, and watching pointless videos on the internet. I was starving by the time Tom knocked on the door. "Hey," I said, smiling gently at him. He smiled back, playing with his hands awkwardly.

"What's up?" He walked at my left as we made our way across the street to his '97 Monte Carlo. It was a pretty maroon color, and I hadn't noticed it before. I brushed my fingers along the side as I neared the passenger side door.

"I have a request." I buckled myself into the seat, and looked over at him. He raised his eyebrows. "I have to get something to eat before we do anything." Tom smiled, and nodded his head. He didn't say anything as we pulled out into the street, and we drove out of the neighborhood, I noticed how good his car smelled. "Wow. Do you, like, febreeze in here or something?"

Tom shrugged. "I just don't like my shit smelling like pot and booze all the time. Unlike my friends Sid and Nancy." I laughed quietly, and folded my hands into my lap. There was quiet music playing on the radio, and from what I could hear it sounded like Chris Brown's Forever.

"I didn't know you liked this stuff," I said, turning the volume knob so that I could hear it better. I wasn't a fan myself, but I would've never guessed that Tom Baczak listened to Chris Brown.

"Yeah," He said, smiling a little. God, his smile is gorgeous. "Don't tell Johnny, though."

"I'm beginning to think he hardly even knows you."

"What makes you say that?" Tom turned into a Wendy's parking lot. "Is this ok? I'm hungry, too." He unbuckled his seat belt and I followed suit.

"I guess, because you sort of come off as a bad ass." He stared at me as we walked into the restaurant. "And then there you were, listening to Chris Brown. Wow," I said, holding my forehead. "This is really weird."

Tom held the door open for me, and shrugged. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Laura. Like," he thought for a moment, "oh, I don't know. Like the fact that I think you're really, really pretty?"

I stared at him. Was this guy serious?