Duh.
“A little,” I admitted.
Josh reached over, and his lips met mine. It was tentative at first, but when I began to kiss him back, it became more assured, then I forgot everything else because my mind went completely blank from my brain exploding.
Pulling away felt like yanking a rip cord that happened to be my nervous system.
Josh held my cheek in his hand, our faces inches from each other. “At least I’m one less thing to be fearful of.”
I wasn’t so sure about that.
The sky had turned a glowing purplish red as the sun slowly lowered past the houses across from us on the horizon.
“I have a question for you.” Josh watched me as if he was gauging my reaction.
Uh-oh.
“Yes?”
“Why did you take my picture?”
And I found the question didn’t scare me as much as I thought it would. “I don’t know anymore. I thought I needed it at the time.”
Josh pulled out his cell phone and showed me a picture of the two of us at the counter in the store.
“Where did you get that?” I asked, wondering why he’d have a picture of me that he didn’t delete.
“It was a shot of the front room for the website. Rachel sent it to me. She wanted to cut you out of it, but I cropped it so it was just you and me. I guess I needed it at the time too.”
Oh.
Really?
My face flushed.
Josh liked me. As in, I wasn’t a lone crazy person in this situation.
Taking another sip of his lemonade, Josh asked, “What about your dress from the competition? Please tell me you kept it.”
“It now lies in a pile on my bedroom floor, but yes.”
“You should fix it. You’re beautiful in it.”
My brain sizzled in response. Another explosion was imminent.
Leaning down a second time, Josh kissed me again. This time I wasn’t as scared. It felt as if we were destined to kiss each other. My mind went fuzzy again as his lips pressed against mine.
Pulling away, Josh positioned himself so that I could lean on his chest. “So? Hungry?”
“Extremely.”
Kissing the top of my head, Josh said, “Let’s get some dinner.”
I sighed in happiness.
“Okay.”
Entering my apartment, I couldn’t stop smiling.
The night had been perfect.
I tossed my backpack on the couch and stretched out my sore muscles.
Josh kissed me!
And we had a lovely dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crusts cut off furnished by Grams. She had obviously remembered my favorite “work” meal I used to have with Dad as well. It made me love her more, if that was even possible.
Replaying every word of every part of the conversations Josh and I had together tonight, I was relieved that only a couple sentences would haunt me for the rest of my days. That was nothing for me! I did pretty good. And what was crazier was that I actually wanted to see him again. I didn’t want to hide under the bed and never come out.
Progress.
I was about to go into my bedroom and call it a night when I glanced over to the kitchen counter and saw the plate of cookies Grandma had made a few days ago.
My stomach dropped.
Hank!
I had told him to wait for me Friday to give him dinner, but I had stormed out after getting caught with Josh’s stolen picture. His dinner and my lunch were both still in the fridge.
I knew I wasn’t his keeper, and I knew he didn’t rely only on me for food, but I had promised.
The thought of Hank standing there by the dumpster waiting for me? My stomach curdled in pain at the thought.
Maybe he was around. I had to try.
Shoving the entire plate of cookies into a bag and rummaging through the refrigerator for anything I could find, I finally left my apartment with three paper lunch bags full of food.
Though my body was exhausted from a day of hard labor, I ran. Ran past the alley, ran past all the buildings, and ran past the front of the bookstore, cleared the corner, until I stood panting next to the dumpster.
Rachel lived upstairs, and I didn’t want to wake her, so I whispered as loudly as I could, “Hank! Are you here?”
Darkness blocked almost all light. Not even the streetlamp a few yards away was enough to see anything clearly, but I searched all the same. Maybe he was sleeping nearby? Maybe he was leaned up against the wall?
Maybe he was nowhere near here.
Giving up wasn’t an option though.
“Hank!” I whispered louder. “I have some food for you.” I may have overcompensated with the three paper bags, but at least he’d have food for a while. If I could find him.
But nothing.
No sound. No voice. No ruffling.
Hank wasn’t here.
“Jeraline? Is that you?” Rachel’s voice sounded from above my head.
Uh-oh.
Guess I was too loud.
Rachel poked her head out of the upstairs window with what I could only describe as a snarl.
“Hey, Rachel.” Very professional.
“What are you doing down there?” she grumbled. Yes, she actually grumbled.
“I . . . it’s . . . there’s this really nice homeless guy Hank that I give food to when I work, and well . . . I forgot yesterday when I . . . left.” Articulate, powerful, moving.
“Well, he doesn’t seem to be here now, and you’re waking up the entire street. Go home.”
Hey, she didn’t fire me.
Holding three brown paper bags, standing in the dark, with my boss yelling at me from a second story window. Not my finest moment.
Wait.
A moaning sound, very faint, and possibly in my imagination.
“Hank?” I whispered so as not to anger any of Rachel’s supposed neighbors.
And there it was again. But this time I heard Hank’s voice. It was muffled and sounded far away. “Jeraline? Is that you?”
I searched everywhere around the dumpster, behind it, near it, but I couldn’t figure out where Hank’s voice had come from.
“Hank, where are you?” I whispered desperately, panic setting in.
There was a brief pause as I waited.
“Well? Is he there?” Rachel seemed to be on pins and needles as well.
“I can’t
