That wasn’t going to happen.
When it was all over, I got up and thanked him for his time. It was the polite thing to do and made me look better. Sometimes being nice was the best ammo of all.
I was at the door when he called out to me, “One day, Camden, you’ll leave this town and wish you did something nice for the people in it. Maybe even for your own family. There are other lives out there other than your own. Sometimes we need to make sacrifices in order to keep loved ones happy, even if we don’t think they deserve it.”
I didn’t turn to look at him. I ignored his words, letting them roll off me like drops of oil, and stepped out into the receptionist’s area. There was a lanky woman with blonde eighties hair sitting in the corner pretending to read a magazine. In reality, she was eyeing me with disdain. My stepmother wasn’t anywhere.
I looked at the receptionist. “Um, have you seen…”
She jerked her head toward the exit. “Your stepmother called and said she’s running late and for you to wait for her outside.” She didn’t even look at me, just called the other woman over instead.
I exhaled and headed out of the medical building and back into the inferno. The sun was high in the sky now, searing my pants to my legs in seconds. I shielded my eyes from the glare and looked around. The van wasn’t in the parking lot. I guess Raquel and my father fucked off somewhere. Too bad it was too hot out to even think about walking back home by myself.
I sat down on the curb and waited. A few cars puttered past on the main road, the dust rising like sandy plumes behind them. There was something pretty about that and had I been in a better mood, or at least had my sketchbook on me, I would have tried to capture that in colored pencil. Pen was too blunt for something that ethereal.
Then I saw something even more poetic: the silhouette of a girl walking through the dust clouds along the sidewalk. I couldn’t see her face, just her shape, though I could tell she was small and walked with a pronounced limp. She turned in my direction and headed toward me. As soon as the dust cleared, she stopped and looked around as if she were lost.
Wow. She was pretty. Very pretty. She looked about my age, too. She had long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, big dark eyes, a round face, and pouty lips. I’d never seen her before—I would know if I had. I knew every girl in town—from afar, of course. No girls ever talked to me. But I kept all their names and images in my head, using the prettiest ones when I was spanking it in the shower.
But unlike a lot of the girls in Palm Valley, this one wasn’t showing a lot of skin. You get used to it in this heat, seeing your classmates walking around in cut-offs and bikini tops that only the coolest girls could fill out. This girl already stood out by wearing flared jeans, Doc Martens boots and a T-shirt. She must have been boiling hot, just as I was.
She started walking toward the building, but stopped as soon as she saw me.
My first instinct was to smile at her. It made most girls turn and run away.
But then she started walking again, slower this time and with deliberation. She was trying to control her limp, her focus now dead ahead, not letting her eyes waver to me. I couldn’t tell if it was because I weirded her out or if she was self-conscious. Maybe both.
She was just a few feet away, refusing to look at me, when I said, “If you’re looking for the psychiatrist, he’s upstairs.”
The girl stopped and looked at me, a mix of shock and fear on her face. Up close she was even prettier, with a smattering of freckles across her petite nose. She filled out her jeans and black shirt pretty well too. I adjusted myself and prayed I wouldn’t get another inappropriate boner, though at least there’d be a reason for it this time.
I kept my face deadpan. Might as well give her another reason to be turned off. “I mean, I’d know, I was just at the shrink. Guess my father thinks I’m a bit nuts.”
She looked me up and down, her face relaxing slightly though she still looked puzzled. Finally she said, “I’m looking for a pharmacy.”
I squinted up at her. “You’re not from here, are you? I mean, this town?”
She shook her head. She looked really uncomfortable.
“Aren’t you hot in those jeans and boots?” I asked.
Her face immediately went red and I knew I struck a nerve. But instead of feeling proactive, like I’d shut her down before she had a chance to shut me down, I just felt bad.
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly and got to my feet. “I’m not one to talk.” I towered over her, awkwardly adjusting my pants and rattling my wallet chain, but to her credit she still stood there and folded her tanned arms across her chest. Her T-shirt was an aged looking Metallica Master of Puppets. I nodded at it. “Cool shirt. Do you like Metallica or did you pick that up at a thrift store?”
“Both,” she said, raising her chin. Her eyes darted to the building. “So is there a pharmacy in there?”
“Yep,” I said. “What are you looking for?”
She gave me a look that said it was none of my business.
I raised my hands in apology. “Sorry. Just trying to make conversation. Usually I have about two seconds before someone throws a lame insult in my face. You’re breaking a record here.”
She sucked on her bottom lip—completely adorable. I had the sudden urge to do the same thing.
“Did you really see the psychiatrist?” she asked, still
