My Paper Heart

Just as I got out of Darcie's front door, Hunter was opening the passenger door to the massive black truck. Its finish was so gleaming I could actually see the most minute details of myself in it. Darcie had really done a great job of making me look good. I barely realized the girl about to step into the truck was me. It was an odd feeling.

Hunter hooked an arm around my waist and kissed my cheek gently. "You look hot. You know that?" he cooed, nuzzling my neck. I smiled, and melted into the action.

"Yeah, I know." My voice sounded stupid, and meek, but I closed my eyes, and felt his soft warm breath on my neck, even though it was too hot outside to be anywhere near each other. He broke apart from me, and opened the door wider.

"Your chariot, my dear?" Hunter ventured. I nodded, and I attempted to climb in. Just as I got my foot on the rail, my flats slipped, and I had to grab desperately onto the beige leather seat to keep from knocking my teeth out on the floor. Hunter's hands caught me around the hips once I had caught myself. "You okay?" he asked.

I nodded, feeling shaky. "Yeah, fine." My voice betrayed me.

I stood back up, and looked at the window next to the front door. I saw Darcie. She looked like she was about to die from laughing. I restrained myself from flipping her off.

Hunter looked me over once again. "You sure?" he asked. I nodded.

"Positive," I reassured. I climbed into the cab, without mishap, and buckled into the beige seat. It wasn't often that I was clumsy, but when I was it was disastrous and embarrassing. Hunter jogged around the hood of the car, his body blocking the bright, fluorescent headlights. He popped into the driver's seat and buckled the belt in.

He turned to me, his smile dazzling, and his teeth perfectly white and straight. There was nothing wrong about them at all. He was the epitome of perfection. Italian perfection.

I looked at his clothes to keep myself from drooling.

He wore a dark red shirt underneath a white dinner jacket. His pants were nice black jeans that led to white Converse that were flawless. He kind of looked like he had jumped out of the eighties. But he pulled it off nicely.

Putting the car into reverse, he backed down the steep driveway, passing my red truck. He kept looking out of the back window, but I really wished he had used the mirrors.

"So, what's the plan for tonight?" I asked. He shrugged.

"Want to go see a movie?" he asked. My mouth mentally dropped. He didn't have anything planned, that ass!

"Sure," I said, trying not to sound nasty. He smiled, and straightened out the car on the dirt road. He rubbed my arm, and brushed his fingers across the back of my hand. Apparently he remembered that single motion made my insides shimmer. I licked my lips, and stared out the window. I nearly cringed upon hearing Nickleback echo into the truck cab.

***

The movie was long and boring, I don’t even remember what it was about at this point anymore. I had to pee the entire time, and I had to keep crossing and uncrossing my legs. The fat man in front of me kept turning around and giving me dirty looks. Hunter either didn't notice, or ignored me. He was completely engrossed in the damn thing. That made me mad more than anything else in the stupid theatre.

I had to finally stand up in the middle of the climax, and run to the lady's bathroom. When I was done I realized that they toilet wouldn't flush. And I'm not the type of person who usually leaves their waste, un-flushed, in public restrooms. That mortified me beyond reason, so I got up, made a gurgling flushing sound that was very unconvincing, and exited the stall, closing it behind me. I ran back into the room, only to see it had lit up, and everyone was standing around.

I found Hunter loitering around with a pair of skater boys, one blond and one with frizzy brown hair. He sat there, talking to them for about twenty minutes. All the while I was getting checked out by the blond, and fuming. I don't think I had ever been quite so pissed off at Hunter. Except for the time I found him sleeping with my once-friend Jennifer.

Needless to say that was why we had broken up.

When he finally turned to me I was beyond being nice. "Ready to go?" My voice was sharp, and pissed. He detected it, rolling his eyes, and snaking an arm around my waist.

"Kelsey, Dan, this is my girlfriend, Goldie. Hot one, isn't she?" I could've slapped him. I really could have. The only reason I didn't was because he had his fingers laced with those of my slapping hand. If I had gone at him with my other one, the effect would've been more embarrassing for me than him.

"Hot is an understatement, dude," said the frizzy haired one. I sneered, broke free of Hunter, and went and got my soda. It was a medium Coke. It was also as big as my head, and heavier.

Upon returning the blond was talking about how nice of a can I had. I felt sick. I dropped my drink on the floor, making sure that it stretched up the boy's pant legs, and I left the building.

I waited beside the Escalade for Hunter to emerge for five minutes before I gave up, and lit a cigarette. The smoke came out of my mouth, the toxic blue clouds twirling up and away from me. I leaned against the black finish, hoping that I didn't somehow manage to gouge a big scrape into the side.

I took another long drag, and tipped my head back, shooting it out in a stream.

Upon tipping my head correctly, I found Hunter jogging towards me out of the movie theatre. He had this look on his face. It was hard to describe. It was pissed off, but sort of concerned. Mostly the former.

He stopped jogging, and gave me a nasty look. "What the Christ, Goldie!" he barked. I flinched. Worst thing I could do, but I did it. I wasn't used to getting screamed at by someone outside of my family. He continued glaring at me. I kept pulling on my cigarette.

We sat that way for ten minutes, until my cigarette was complete ash. I flicked it out into the dry parking lot. I could still see the tip's ember burning. I crossed my arms, and looked at the ground. I could hear Kelsey and Dan skateboarded out of the parking lot, towards the Toys R Us across the street.

I sighed, and licked my lips, looking up at Hunter. His expression softened, and he seemed sorry. He frowned in the corner of his mouth, and sighed. "I'm sorry Goldie. I was pissed because of Dan's pants," he admitted. Before I could say anything in return, he enveloped me into a hug.

I became wide-eyed, but quickly I melted into it, wrapping my arms around his waist, and pushing my face into his chest. Hunter and I never quite fit, but I soaked in the hug despite.

He ran his fingers through my hair, snagging on tangles. I didn't enjoy that much. He then kissed me on top of my head, which made me feel like a child. He pulled back and smiled at me.

"Dinner, my love?" he asked. My heart fluttered upon hearing those words.

***

I sat on the leather seat at Outback Steakhouse. Hunter sat beside me, holding my hand in his on his thigh. The red marker sat beside him, bleeping continuously, preparing to tell us what time we could go up. This was almost as boring as the movie that Hunter had put me through. The worst part was that this was now no smoking, and at this point my nerves were shot. But his hand kept its steady grip on my. I almost wanted to let go because of how hot it was in the damned restaurant before I remembered something he had said to me a long time ago. It was insignificant, and I was sure he didn't remember it. He had told me that I had soft hands.

It was enough to keep my hand in his humid palm.

The beeper went off, and a boy with thin brown hair led us to a booth. Hunter asked for a booth near the bar, which we got. Obviously I might have to drive the monster home.

He sat opposite of me, browsing the wine list, while I skimmed the food. I didn't like spending someone else's money on me for food. I settled on some sirloin steak, and potato soup. Hunter ordered similarly, and asked for a beer. He flashed his ID, and the boy ran off to fill our order.

Hunter smiled dazzlingly at me across the table, and reached for my hand. I supplied it to him effortlessly, and he kissed the back of it.

"So how are you enjoying your night?" he asked, his eyes smoldering. In the light they were a warm topaz color, but it was dark, and they, too, were dark; almost black. Unfairly hypnotic. They lanced my heart and began to pull me under, once again. It was almost as easy as he had done the first time.

The back of his dad's F250, holding hands and talking. I was only fourteen, and Mom hadn't died yet. He was sixteen, two years my senior, and all the more enticing.

"It's good," I answered after what felt like years. I had completely forgotten his friends were jerks. Our drinks came, and I sipped lazily on it. Looking up through my lashes, I caught him watching me with greedy eyes as I sipped on the straw, steadying it with the tips of my fingers. It was easy to see what he was thinking about. We had done it before, so I didn't want him to think I would give it up so easily and quickly.

I stopped drinking and set my coke aside. He sipped his drink.

"So how's work?" I asked him. He shrugged.

"Good enough, I guess. I don't get paid enough, and the kids are idiots. I am way too good to handle this bull," he mused. I forced myself not to roll my eyes.

Our food came and we ate in relative silence. Once in a while on of our forks or knives would scrap the bottom of the plate and make a hideous sound.

After three sodas, my bladder started feeling it. "I'll be back," I said. Hunter didn't look up.

Once I had released my fluid for the second time tonight, I left the small, funny smelling bathroom. The booths were empty, but the place was roaring. I looked to the bar and found a drunken woman, big hair, big chest, big bottom, dancing on the dark, hard, wood of the bar. And Hunter was right on the frontlines, cheering her on as she took the straps off her shoulders.

I stormed up to the bar, and whipped him around.

"What the hell!" I screeched.

The woman, who must've been at least thirty, had gotten on her knees, and gave the back of Hunter's head a fierce look. It seemed that he was her favorite fan of the night. "Hey!" she snapped. He didn't pay attention. Now he just looked at me like a deer caught in the headlights. She shouted at him again, and got onto her hands and knees. Her cleavage was like the Grand Canyon; deep and dark.

She leaned forward and gave Hunter a shove, which resulted in his drink splashing all down my dress. It was freezing, and, with belated anger, I realized the dress was ruined. I grit my teeth and slapped Hunter in the mouth.

"I want to go home!" I demanded, almost in tears, my jaws clenched. My hand throbbed from hitting him.

He nodded stupidly at my demand, set his drink on the counter, and dropped a hundred on the booth's table.

The ride home was quiet, strained and awkward. Dates shouldn't go like this. Ever. But mine always seemed to go south. My head was rested against the glass, and my front smelled like stale beer. I rolled the window down in an attempt to get the stink away from me.

As I had thought, it didn't help. I took my pack out, and tried lighting a cigarette. My hands shook nastily as I tried to get the lighter going. It took me four tries to get it lit. Hunter gave me another look. I, once again, ignored it. I kept my eyes focused outside.

It felt like forever until we were back to my house. He walked me to the front door. Well, he walked behind me to the front door. I was storming so quick that I tripped over my own feet, and went sprawling to the ground.

This triggered the waterworks. I began to sob like a baby, keeping my head cradled in my hands, and pulling my scraped knees to my chest, not caring if Hunter got a full show of my pink cotton panties. He was never good with me crying. Or anyone crying for that matter, so he stood there awkwardly, looking like he hoped Dad wouldn't hear me sobbing and think that Hunter was forcing me to screw him in the front yard. Not that Dad would care, he was probably already asleep in a drunken coma.

After I was done with my little song and dance, I stood back up. My knees stung nastily, and I just wanted to go in and take a shower and go to bed. I started up the stairs.

"Goldie!" Hunter said quickly, grabbing my wrist. I turned around and glared at him. Before he could talk, I said, "That was the worst date I have ever been on." He nodded.

"I know. And I'm so sorry it ended up being that way." His eyes held sincerity, but I wasn't sure how much I could trust him.

"Can we try again, please?" he pleaded. I grunted, and looked off. I didn't want to look at him.

He moved his grip from my wrist to my hand. He held it so gently. Like I'd break. The faint touch of his hand in mine made my senses run on high. I grunted, licked my lips, and looked down at him. He put my hand to his lips, and set a kiss onto each knuckle. His eyes were forever trained on me.

I blushed hard, and nodded. "Yeah, sure," I said. His face lit up, and his proud self jumped back.

"Cool," he said. He leaned in to give me a kiss. His lips connected with mine. I felt nothing, just lips connecting. I didn't alert me to anything. Whenever I kissed a boy, there was no feeling behind it. I pulled away, and went inside, not looking back or smiling.

***

I had called Darcie after my shower, but Carrie told me she was asleep. I then thought about calling Nick, and decided that idea was out. He wasn't all for the mushy romance stuff.

I scrolled down my caller ID and clicked in Sasha's number. It didn't even ring when someone answered.

"Dawson household. Oli speaking," said Oli's bright voice. It made me smile.

"Hey Oli," I said. "Mind if I talk to Sasha?"

"Yes sure, I'll go get him. It might be a minute. He's been in the bathroom for like an hour. I think he's jerkin' it." I laughed, and the phone went quiet. It was about half a minute until I heard Sasha.

"Hello?" His voice sounded anxious and irritated. "Goldie? How was the date?" he asked. I bit my lip, and immediately told him all about the date, and how it was the worst one I've ever had. He laughed at the appropriate times, and he gasped in horror likewise.

"Jeez, what a dick," Sasha said after I told him that was how the date ended. I agreed.

We continued talking. He narrated what he was doing at the moment as he did it, like he was getting dressed, he was getting a soda, he was spitting the soda out because it tasted like crap. I'd laugh, and sometimes we'd just sit there, and say nothing. It wasn't weird like all of my other friends when I talked on the phone. I felt content when I spoke to him on the phone. I checked my clock and it told me that it was already 3:56 in the morning. I didn't care.

I rolled over in bed, and rested the phone against my ear. I could hear his breathing on the other end, and I knew all was well. He had told me he climbed into bed a while ago. We had run out of things to talk about, but neither of us felt like hanging up. I would feel lonely, and he would feel crowded at his house.

I soon drifted off, my body cool thanks to the fan blowing on me as it slowly turned. My knees didn't sting anymore.

"Goldie? Hello?" I heard Sasha's crackly voice coming from the other end of the phone. I opened my eyes, and the sun was shining. I sat up, and rubbed my eyes.

"Hey Sash," I said. My voice was crackly too. I heard a soft laugh come from him.

"Sleep good?" he asked. I paused for a minute and thought.

"Yeah, actually. I did." The light laugh from the other end made my heart swell. "I adore you, Sasha," I admitted. "Staying on the phone with me for like eight hours."

"Anytime Goldilocks."