Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf

“See?” I nudged Sam as we made our ways out of Glee Club. “I told you that you’d be fine. You were nervous for no reason.”

The grin on his face stretched, literally, from ear to ear. “Yeah, you were right. God, that was a great feeling, performing in front of people. It’s kind of like football, you know? Like…that feeling like everyone’s depending on you to do well, and then they get really excited when you do.”

“And rip you apart when you don’t,” I finished, remembering my short stint when I was ten, playing soccer. My father was always on my back about doing well, even though I sucked at soccer. It wouldn’t be too far off to say that I was the worst player to step in the game.

“Exactly,” he sighed, as if he was happy to find someone who finally understood where he was coming from. Which I didn’t get, really, considering I was the first one he expressed his thoughts to. But whatever.

We were silent the rest of the way to his car, my focus on the white tips of my sneakers as they emerged from under me, standing out against the black concrete.

Right as I pulled open the passenger’s side door, I heard a voice call my name. I turned to find Puck, running over to me with a wide smile.

“Hey, Ellie. You want me to drive you home? I really wouldn’t mind.” For a split second, his eyes looked over my shoulder to glare at Sam, only to soften as they turned back to me.

“Um…Sam already said he’d drive me…but maybe tomorrow, okay?”

Puck’s face fell briefly, but he composed himself before anyone caught it. Besides me, of course. “Fine. I guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Yeah.” I watched as he turned and walked away, hands shoved into his pockets, slouching slightly.

“So you’re cool with him again, right?” Sam asked. I turned to find that he was watching Puck skulk away, too.

“Kind of. Things are still kind of awkward, I feel like, but yeah, we’re on okay terms.”

“And you want things to be cool between you two?” My eyes narrowed subconsciously, hating the fact that Sam was pretty perceptive. I didn’t even have to say anything for him to read between the lines of my actions.

Letting out a sigh, I turned to face Sam, spreading my elbows out on the top of his car and placing my chin on the backs of my hands. “I do, but I’m just…I don’t know if I totally forgive him for cheating on me yet.” As the engine of his truck roared past us, I stopped talking to watch him go before starting up again. “But I do miss us hanging out. Even before we were a couple, we had fun together. Our personalities just kind of…mesh. Do I sound completely stupid?”

Sam laughed a little as he pulled open his door, leading me to do the same. Once we were settled in our seats, Sam starting the car, he finally answered my question. “I don’t think you sound stupid. But you sound like you really miss him.”

“I shouldn’t,” was my only response to that. I couldn’t answer that I didn’t, since that would be lying, but just saying that I shouldn’t was totally noncommittal.

“Isn’t it human nature to do what you’re not supposed to? Like…” He focused straight ahead on the road as he thought hard. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything.”

“I know what you mean though,” I allowed, making sure that he didn’t combust his brain by thinking too hard. “And you’re right, I guess. I just…don’t want to be that girl, the one that spends all her time pining over her ex-boyfriend, you know? But I do want to fix things between us, since us not getting along is awkward for everyone.”

Sam sighed. “You know, maybe that’s your problem.”

I thought for a second before coming up blank. “What’s my problem?”

“You take things too…seriously. You jump to conclusions. Just because you miss Puck and miss how you guys used to hang out, that doesn’t mean that you’re spending hours in your bedroom, having no life, staring out the window, wishing for those old days back. You still have a life, pretty much, and you’re taking action. You’re not one of, as you put it, those girls.”

Biting my lip, I was pretty darn sure that he was right. “You should be a psychiatrist or something,” I laughed, pushing his shoulder.

“I don't know about that,” he smiled. Pulling into my driveway, he put the car into park and looked over at me. “So no more thinking that you’re a total love-stricken teenage girl who has no hope for the world?”

I promised, “No,” as I picked up my bag and put rested it on my shoulder. “Thanks for the ride!”

“No problem. See you at school tomorrow.”

Nodding, I got out of the car and ran to the front door, already unlocked since Aileen had gotten home early. From the front kitchen window, I could see Sam start to back out, satisfied that I was already in my house safely.

“So,” Aileen started, scaring the shit out of me, “anything happen between you and Sam yet?”

“What’s with you and pushing Sam and me together?” I raised an eyebrow at her as I made my way to the kitchen to grab a bottled water.

“Because, I’m telling you, you guys should get together! You can’t see how much he cares about you.”

“Aileen,” I started, leaning against the fridge as I took my first sip from the bottle, “I’m going to explain something to you that I’m not sure you understand.” She gave me a skeptical look as she stopped in the middle of the kitchen, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “There’s this thing in this world called ‘friendship’. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the term. It’s when people have similar personalities, though that’s not required, and they care about each other, but there’s usually not any romantic feelings involved. However, the people involved still feel protective of one another and want the best for the other. You following me?”

She tried to glare at me before chuckling. “Alright, alright. You keep thinking that for as long as you can. But I’m telling you that your ‘friendship’,” she used air-quotes and everything, “won’t last as one long.”

Rolling my eyes, I made my way to the stairs. Right before my foot hit the first step, I called, “You keep thinking that because you’re going to be disappointed!”

“No, I won’t!” she yelled as I raced up the steps.

Instead of answering, I pretended that I didn’t hear her, just throwing open the door of my bedroom and entering, closing the door behind me. With a press of the largest front button on the TV, the sound of Dr. Phil trying to talk some sense into a teenage delinquent filled my room.

It was funny, how sometimes the smallest sound or smell could send someone back in time, to a particular situation. How hearing the sound of Dr. Phil’s voice brought me back to a night where I’d lied down on my bed at Mom’s house, texting and laughing with Puck, when my mom was just in the other room, crying over how my father had left.

Thinking back on it, I’d never figured out what, exactly, happened to Dad. I figured that he’d left without bothering to keep contact with anyone, but I didn’t know that for sure.

For a second, staring at the Tampax commercial, I wondered if I should go downstairs and ask Aileen if she knew anything worth sharing.

But then, I took a deep breath and realized: What if I didn’t want to know the answers?

That was worse than not asking questions, getting answers that make someone realize that they didn’t want to ask in the first place.

So, being the girl I was, I just settled on my bed and tried to focus on the show, not the memories involved, deciding that it was better to play safe than to take any risks or chances whatsoever.