Page 51 of All of You

Twenty Six

Langdon

Ihave never looked forward to Sunday dinner more than I have since Delia blew into town. I’m anxious that she hated every single song on the iPod I gave her. And I’ve convinced myself that giving it to her was the lamest thing to do.

Mom shuffles us all into the car and I sit in silence for the short ride there. It occurs to me that we live close enough that I could walk to Delia’s if I wanted to. If I cut through the trails in the backyard it would take me right into Heath’s back field. I wonder if Delia knows where I live.Why would she?Weekends are torture. All I want are Viv days and Sundays so I can talk to her.

The game she plays in the cafeteria leaves me so horny that I might go cross-eyed from the intensity. She watches me with those green eyes and I try not to look away but thewayshe looks at me leaves me breathless and aroused. She always wins too. Ialwayslook away first. It feels like being naked in front of the whole school when she looks at me like that. A couple times I’ve looked away first, just to check that I actually had clothes on.

Mom glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Penny for your thoughts,” she says.

Umm, not on your life, Mom.“No thoughts. Just zoned out,” I say as she pulls onto Lands End.

“Mmhmm, sure,” she says.

The table’s set when we get inside. Anderson runs to the living room and marvels at the new puzzle waiting for him.

“This’ll take at least three Sundays.”

Delia’s laugh flips my stomach. I turn to peek in the living room. “Well, we had to think of something to keep you coming over,” she says.

Anderson grins at her before lunging and wrapping his arms around her. “Fresh,” he says. I roll my eyes at the term.

Delia shoots me a confused look. I shrug. I don’t know where he picked it up either but every time he wants to say cool or yeah or ok, he saysfreshinstead. It’s ridiculous and stupid if you ask me.

Heath’s thick hand slaps my shoulder, sending me lurching forward unexpectedly.

“How’s life, kid?” he asks.

I grin. “Can’t complain. Work’s good. School’s good and dinner smells good.”

“Such a self-starter. Working’s good for the soul. Everykid should be required to work in high school.”

I catch Delia rolling her eyes and I wonder if he’s given her the same spiel. “Anyway, what’s for dinner?”

Heath smiles broadly at me. “Roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and whatever your mother brought.”

I nod. “Cool.”

“Actually, I could use you in the kitchen,” he says.

Mom and Dad sit around Anderson and before I follow Heath, I see Delia kneel on one side of the table while Anderson begins flipping puzzle pieces over.

Heath’s full of it tonight. Cracking jokes, smiling, and giving out his big belly laughs that I haven’t heard in a long time. The banter between us flows easily as I toss Mom’s green beans in the oven to warm up. He’s chopping vegetables for a salad. Delia is leaning against the doorway watching us.

“Have you heard this one? What rock group has four men who can’t sing?”

“Uh…” I blink and try to think on my feet. “I don’t know.” I shrug.

“Mount Rushmore,” he says deadpan. Delia snorts from the edge of the kitchen.

“Tough crowd,” Heath says. “What about this one? Why couldn’t the bicycle stand up by itself?”

He stares at me waiting and again, I can’t come up with anything intelligent.

“It was too tired,” he says and tosses the rest of the vegetables into the salad bowl.

“You never talk to me like you do with him,” Delia cuts inbefore I can snicker, that one was pretty good. Heath looks at her with an eyebrow arched. “Why don’t you talk to me?” she asks.