Chapter four- A trip to the town

He didn’t come by the next day, afraid I guess that my father would somehow know what had happened between the two of us. I don’t think he knew… I mean, he didn’t treat me any better or any worse. I wasn’t even sure if he’d remembered getting out of bed last night.

The day hadn't started out so great though. When I came downstairs, my father was walking out of my mothers room, and when he saw me he jumped a little. I raised an eyebrow curiously and he waved me away, saying everything was fine. I think I must have inherited my terrible lying from him. 

I watched him leave the house, and he was moving slowly, and once I heard the car engine fade into nothing, I opened to door to my mothers room. She was asleep, her face was pale and gaunt. Her breathing seemed strong enough, but the sight of my mother looking so hopeless and... destroyed made me want to cry. She wasn't even a shadow of what she used to be. A shadow left something remaining.

I sat on the edge of the bed and slipped my hand beneath hers, stroking it with my thumb. I sat there for a long while, before I leaned forward and pressed my lips to her cheek. It was cold, clammy and made me shiver.

There was a soft knock on the door and I sighed, getting up from the bed. I didn't really feel like answering. I pulled it open anyway, and felt my knees weaken at the sight of Ritchie. He smiled at me and waved, I could feel the heat gradually returning to my face.

“Hello Ritchie.” I said politely, trying not to give him any indication that I wasn't happy to see him. Because I was, but I was still pretty depressed. He motioned with his eyes toward the area where my father would normally have been, asking an unspoken question, ‘Did he ever find out?’

"He's not home... He left for work awhile ago. And no, he never found out... At least I don't think he did." He breathed a sigh of relief.

“You allowed ta come out?” It was just before lunchtime, but my mind wasn't on food so he grabbed my coat for me as I slipped my shoes on. I grabbed my purse as well; I had managed to earn some money doing the boring housework no one wanted to. I planned on using the money to get Ritchie something for Christmas, which was only about a week away by now.

I stepped outside and Ritchie closed the door behind me, holding my coat out for me to slip my arms into. We crossed the porch, and exited the gate without a word, and it wasn’t until we were halfway down the block that he turned to me and pulled me over to him, kissing my cheek lightly. I smiled without really realizing it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’ see ya yesterday, luv.” He mumbled into my ear. “I ‘ad ta work.” He kissed me again, this time his lips lingered against my cheek for a few seconds before taking my hand and walking alongside me.

“I missed you.” I said and I noticed a look that was almost something like guilt flicker across his face. I clutched my little purse tighter as we passed through the neighbourhood where most  of theTeds hung out. I’d had things stolen before, and right out of my hands too, but I doubted anyone would really try anything while I walked alongside Ritchie, this was his place, I guess.

“I was ‘opin’ ta make up fer it today.” He said brushing his lips against my knuckles lightly. I shivered again, and not from the cold. Ritchie brought me close to him, wrapping an arm around my waist while we walked. 

It definitely felt like Christmastime again to me. It’d lost that feeling it always used to have when I was younger and my mother wasn’t so sick… Ritchie seemed to make up for that today; he took me to the town. But it was a long walk, and I felt my stomach begin to rumble and was glad my father wasn't home so that I had no specific time to be back... not really, anyway.

But when we got there it was worth it, it was more cheerful than my neighbourhood by far… Lights were hung from the edges of buildings, trees stood in corners decorated lavishly, and the displays in the windows were incredibly enticing, but also incredibly out of my price range.

None of this seemed at all new to him, and I think I amused him with my fascination at the simplest of things. Like a train that was set on tracks, circling around a tree. I think it was the trees that compelled me most, and he went with it. He showed me where the best ones were, the biggest and the ones decorated with glass ornaments instead of shatterproof plastic ones and ribbons. And the stars at the top were what I loved most.

Our trees at home never had one. We had recently bought our tree; it was decent, nothing to brag about though, but it was a real tree. It had pitifully few decorations on it, and the string of lights was so short it was practically vertical up the tree, but no one complained. It helped fill the house with Christmas smell and even helped to brighten up my mood.

I gazed up at an eight pointed crystal star, perched delicately a top the pines. It shimmered in the weak winter lights, and at least to me, it was amazingly beautiful.

“Know what? Fer Christmas I’ll get ya a star.” He murmured, holding me close to his chest as we stared up at the trees. I buried my face in his jacket, inhaling deeply, and felt him bury his finger in my hair and bend his head down to kiss my forehead, after a moment standing like this he took my hand and led me away from the mainstream shoppers.

He pointed in the direction of a small café, a string of faded lights hung loosely from the rooftop, invisible amongst the cheeriness of everything else. Once inside, I realized why he liked it. It had a homey feeling, and it wasn’t a place you had to worry about looking like a movie star every time you went. He sat me down next to a window, where I gazed out at what was going on outside, flurries of snow floated past and the sky had darkened a little since we had left home.

A waitress wearing a short skirt came over to our table, pulling a pen out of her hair to write down our order. I hadn’t been out in years really, so I was taken aback by the array of choices on the paper menu. Ritchie had ordered only a small hot chocolate, so I took the same as him, even though I wanted something with more substance, but the prices on the menu had to be considered as well, and I had a pitiful amount of money in my purse. And I still wanted to get him something for Christmas.

We sat across from each other, so I had to suppress the urge to move over next him, and it would’ve been weird to hold hands across the table. I felt breathless from my pounding heart, and I longed to feel the warmth of his body melding into mine, and maybe even to kiss him again. My thoughts were cut short as the waitress in the short skirt appeared at our table side again, blue mugs in each hand and set them down in the middle of the table.

“Enjoy kids.” She said waving her hand as she walked away. My first thought was to be annoyed, she couldn’t be much older than I was, and I definitely was not a child. But I didn’t have too much time to feel upset when Ritchie started talking to me, taking only a sip of his cocoa.

“How’d you know about this place?” I asked, trying to get a marshmallow without having to stick my fingers into the cup.

“Mum used ta bring me ‘ere ev’ry now an’ then, don’ have much reason to celebrate now though.” His response made me regret ever asking the question, but he didn’t seem to mind. He never seemed to mind things most people normally would. Even so I steered the conversation away from the restaurant, which might not do much good considering…

We finished our drinks quickly and the sky was fading into twilight. I knew we had to get home, but I wanted to stay there with Ritchie where everything seemed so happy more than anything.

We walked slowly home, talking about anything and everything that came to our minds. Making excuses to linger awhile where we stood, even as the sun sank lower, threatening to leave us in the dark.

As my house came into view I felt him slow his pace immensely and I knew then, the day had come to a definite end. He led me up the walk to my porch and made sure no one was looking before kissing me, softly he touched his lips to mine. I wrapped my hands around his neck and I returned the kiss, wishing it could last forever…  Even though I had only kissed him for the first time two days ago, and then only briefly, I found that my hunger for him had only intensified, and his likewise. But we had to stop much too soon as I remembered that I probably had to go inside... He held me there for a moment, gripping my wrist with one hand, and another at the back of my neck. I felt his fingers move lightly down to my shoulder, making me shiver.

“I ‘ope I made it up.” He said hardly daring to whisper. I only nodded slightly, daring not to speak at all. He kissed me one final time, but his lips barely brushed against my skin, leaving me with a terrible want for him as I watched him leave.

Chapter three- I think it started here...

(For chapters 4-7, click the drop down arrow next to 'February' and select the next chapter).

My father never directly told me I wouldn't be allowed to see Ritchie again, but I wasn’t allowed to so much as answer the door. And sometimes he closed the door after saying only “No, and have a nice day.”

My stomach felt empty, and knotted at the same time. My chest hurt, and I hated the feeling. I couldn’t just stop wanting him, something my father couldn’t get through his head.

It must’ve been at least two weeks before my Father let me answer the door, and it might have slipped his mind not to let me. I don’t think I’d been that happy in the two weeks we’d been apart than at the moment I opened the door. Ritchie grinned when he saw that this time it was me who answered the door, and not my Father, and I resisted the urge not to run out to him.

I turned to ask my Father if I could join Ritchie, but before the words left my lips, and before he even glanced up from his paper, he told me we could only talk for five minutes.

“And I mean five minutes Ana.” And I had no intention of trying to upset him again, even though five minutes passed away like seconds.

Ritchie managed to visit on most days, and sometimes I got to spend a whole ten minutes out on the front steps to our porch, but sometimes, not at all. He came on Sunday once, but I really don’t think it’s something he would do again, my Father went off on him, cursing selectively and telling him how it was ‘God’s Day’(ironic isn’t it?) and he should be at his own home spending time with his own family. Burdening him with questions such as: ‘Do you ever go home?’ as I watched in horror from the sofa.

I apologized for my Father many, many times, but only once we were alone. I’d never felt so humiliated in my life and I worried he’d never come by again. I must’ve apologized at least a hundred times, each time he shrugged and said it wasn’t a huge deal.

Snow had fallen in sheets, no, more like feather blankets, as December snuck by. I’d always liked snow, especially when it meant no school. Unfortunately, even though about a foot of the stuff had fallen, I still had to go to school, which meant I still had social studies.

I sat in class, gazing out the window as flurries of snow covered the ground, and twirling my pencil with my fingers while everyone else had put theirs to use, scribbling down answers to some work the teacher had just handed out.

 
“Ana?” I jerked my head from the view out the window and saw my teacher, peering at me over his book.

“Yes sir?”

“There’s a worksheet in front of you, I suggest you do it, your grade hasn’t been so impressive lately.” I heard a few kids snicker behind their hands as I felt my cheeks burn in a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“Yes sir. I was just thinking about question five.” I said glancing down at the page.

“You seem to be working fast, Miss. Webb. Do you mind sharing your answer to number two with the class? They all seem to be having trouble with it.” I hated his posh accent, it made me cringe.

“Actually, I’d better check mine again.” I mumbled looking down to avoid his gaze. I could feel the sense of satisfaction rolling off of him in waves. So when the bell rang and he announced it as homework, I was immensely relieved. I shoved the papers into my bag, not caring if they wrinkled or not and left the room quickly, still all too aware of the stares that followed me.

Peggie walked up behind me and put a comforting hand on my arm. She really was a good friend, most of the time. though she was my closest friend, I still didn't feel comfortable confiding in her about Ritchie. I felt bad for not telling her anything, but I wasn’t good at the ‘opening up’ stuff. So, I smiled halfheartedly at her and she went her own way. How easily people would believe a fake smile... especially from me.

My thoughts were still on the disaster that was Social Studies when I spotted the familiar dark clothing- very obvious amongst the bright white glare of everything else- which Ritchie wore. He stood waiting for me by the school sign.

How long had he been waiting here? Today had been the last day of school, thank God. I needed the break, every moment of school my thoughts were on Ritchie... But now, I didn’t need to just remember him.

When he pulled me closer to his body and pressing his lips to my cheek, I returned the favor, placing my hand against his other cheek and brushing his hair with the tips of my fingers, hating to pull away, he made the day seem so much better.

He caught my hand in his, kissing my wrist and holding my palm where it lay against his face. My fingers warmed immediately at his touch, but when he let go, I felt the cold gradually begin to reclaim my arm.  My legs felt weak and trembled at his touch, he hugged my body close to his and I could feel his warm breathing against my skin as I breathed in 
his scent.

I was amazed at how much I’d missed him in only two days, and when he stepped away from me, I wasn’t ready to let go of him and stumbled forward slightly. This time though, I didn’t fall.

He took my hand in his, and despite the wind that was blowing powerfully against our backs, we took our time as we walked slowly home. I could tell he didn’t want to leave anymore than I did, but our saving grace was actually my father, who hadn’t had to work that day, he opened the door, and welcomed us both inside, commenting that he wouldn’t feel quite right letting Ritchie go home without warming up first.

 Oh, God. What’s he gonna do now? Thoughts raced through my mind as I stepped inside, glancing uneasily first at Ritchie, then my Father.  

 We removed our snow laden boots and coats, hanging them in the closet where he turned to me and kissed me once more, pressing his lips to mine, and placing his hands against my cheeks, and when I kissed him back, it sent shivers  throughout my body and I bit my lip softly.

My head spun with thoughts about Ritchie, just the thought of his body so near mine was enough for me to long for him. Our brief kiss was all I thought about as I heard my Father in the kitchen preparing tea. Ritchie sat on the couch, and I sat in a chair diagonal from him, despite my desperate urge to sit next to him.

I turned to see who was making their way slowly across the downstairs hallway when I heard the creak of the floorboards. What was my mother doing out of bed? She looked terrible, and I wondered if Father had remembered to take care of her today. I hated thinking of her like that though, like a dog. She looked pale, and her legs seemed unstable, but Ritchie beat me to it, offering his assistance.

With a smile, she nodded to him. “You seem la lot nicer than David says you are... I don’t see why hedoesn’t like you around Ana...” Ritchie laughed politely, but I could tell he was annoyed, as he helped her to sit down.

“’S’all right.” He said covering her lap with a blanket, “I’ll try not ta disappoint ‘im too much.” He returned to his seat just as my father entered the room, taking a moment for surprise at my mother’s appearance.  

“I trust you know how ta pour tea?” He had directed the question at Ritchie, who might have only been pretending not to be offended.

“I s’pose I could give it a go, no one’s really trusted me to before.” I thought I heard a bit of bitterness and a snarl barely concealed behind his dry sarcasm but I saw my mother snigger slightly at his response, though my Father didn’t seem to find it as funny as she had.

And the evening passed just like this, my Father trying constantly to degrade Ritchie, whom didn’t seem at all perturbed by him and dealt with his snide comments with uncommon grace. My mother went back to her room after an hour or so, she seemed to like Ritchie just fine. And my Father could find no reason to hate him. Except his clothes, and his hair- which he thought were hideous and his parents ought to have him dress like a normal human being.

Ritchie left, and my Father went to bed, leaving me to clean the dishes and the kitchen on my own. A quiet tapping on the back door made me nearly jump out of my skin, and I peeked through the blind, ready to see some maniac trying to get through the door(you know how minds automatically jump to the worst scenario), but I was instead greeted by a pair of  familiar blue eyes.

I unlocked the door as quietly as I could and he slipped inside. I was furious, but at the same time my heart was pounding with excitement.

“What’re you doing here?” I whispered, looking nervously around.

“I jus’ thought you might need some ‘elp with the dishes.” He said, though I’m sure he knew I didn’t believe him. As I rinsed a plate I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.

“If my father comes down here and sees you…” My voice trailed off as I imagined the punishments to come.

“Don’ worry about it luv.” He said wiping his hands off on a dish towel. Easy for him to say. “What was wrong with yer mother, anyway?” He asked pulling a chair out to sit down, pulling another out for me and, after a moment’s hesitation, I sat down.

“She’s just sick.” I answered, tracing my fingers along the tabletop. “Doctors say it’ll pass soon enough, probably just the cold messin’ with ‘er again.” I saw Ritchie nod and scoot his chair out from the table some, I jerked my head up in fear that my father might have heard it. 

“Ya don’ need ta be so jumpy luv.” He said gazing at me with those eyes… I shivered and looked away. I felt the warmth of his hand cover mine, and he pulled me lightly to my feet.

My Father was most likely asleep, but as he drew closer to me, I stepped back and into a wall with a soft thud. I hoped he hadn’t heard that… I was being ridiculous... every little thud, every little creak... I felt as though my heart were pounding in my throat as his arm wrapped around my waist, and felt his hand brush gently across my cheek, his thumb stroking me softly… my paranoia slowly began to edge away as I let my emotions take over.

I knew I was blushing, I could feel my face burning as he calmly held me where I stood. My breathing was rapid and I struggled to slow it, I was tense and could tell he knew I was nervous.

“Shh, luv, s’all right. Ya don’ need ta worry, I won’ do nothin’ ya don’ want me to.” He murmured in my ear and I felt my body relax slightly, I definitely wanted him to stay, and his voice was soothing...

He pressed his mouth to mine and I felt a longing for something burning in the pit of my stomach as I ran my fingers through his hair, it was soft... I felt his hands traveling lightly across my body, and I knew if he tried to take this anywhere, I would follow. I felt so comfortable here, with him. So, it was good he didn’t.

He moved his lips from my mouth to my neck and I hoped to God my father would never come downstairs. He brushed his lips lightly over my shoulder, causing me to shiver with something that felt, again, like anticipation. He moved my hair aside as he kissed my neck and his hand had traveled from my cheek to my upper waist.

‘I don’ think yer father likes me.” He murmured his face only inches from mine. He was smiling, so I knew he didn’t really care. I tried desperately to slow my breathing, to calm down when he pressed his lips to mine, but the shivers that wracked my body sent those concerns far away.  I smiled when he pulled them slightly away.

“What happened to trying not to disappoint him?” I mumbled, placing my hands on his shoulders. I saw the corners of his mouth twitch as he held back a laugh.

“’E’ll live.” He said as he kissed me again softly, this time I kissed him back.

“What was that?” I whispered urgently. A door upstairs had opened. My hopes were dashed as I heard him mutter, “Shit!” and reluctantly let go of me and ran silently into the hallway closet where we kept our shoes. I rushed over to the dishes and tried to look busy, and I heard the closet door click softly shut as my Father came downstairs, gazing blearily around.

“Someone down ‘ere?” He asked looking around and I shook my head without a word, scrubbing the plate so hard I feared it would break. I heard a thump from the closet and I gasped softly. My father turned his head with a confused look. He was about to reach for the doorknob, so I dropped the plate, shattering glass across the floor. I was nervous and jumpy; my emotions clouding my common sense.

He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. I felt bad, he was already stressed enough. But I thanked God all he did was mutter darkly for me to ‘Clean it up’ and he shuffled off to bed with a glass of water.  I was quiet for what seemed like hours, sitting on the floor with a rag in my hands. That had been way too close. I had swept up all the glass, actually mad at myself for breaking a perfectly good dish. But it had saved both our skins and I heard the door click as he opened and shut it once more. He was blushing like mad, and it probably was an embarrassing moment for him.

“Christ I’m sorry about that, luv.” He said, grabbing my arm just above the elbow. “I slipped on somethin’ in there, didn’ see what it was, but you acted pretty fast... When I ‘eard the crash though, I thought ‘e mighta thrown somethin’ at ya.” He hugged me close to him and I wrapped my arms around his waist. I had to pull myself  away almost immediately.

“You really better go.” I said in something that was barely a whisper. He nodded, pulling my chin up to kiss me one last time before he left. The pain in my chest was growing achingly familiar, and the only way it ever left was whenever Ritchie was with me.

I lay in my bed that night, thinking only of him and the all-too-brief moments we had together. I remembered the pressure of his lips against mine, and the way his hands touched me so lightly and tenderly… The way I felt with our bodies pressed so close together. I felt like crying in frustration that he’d had to leave so soon.

How I ever fell asleep I have no idea, all I know is that I wished for dreams of him.

Chapter two- That Candy Shop

A few days passed, and I hadn’t really expected to see him again, and I tried to convince myself it wasn’t such a big deal. We’d only spent a few hours together, but I found myself replaying our simple conversations over and over in my head. And pausing on his smile.

I sighed as I continued on my way home from school, but stopped mid-stride when I saw a familiar face headed in the same direction as myself. My heart leapt to my throat and I waved casually when he looked at me, he smiled and moved closer to my side. I felt shivers run through my body as I felt the heat from his body. I had bought a coat since we had last talked, but regretted it since it meant that I couldn't wear his anymore...

“You look great.” He said walking alongside me, and I blushed. I was getting tired of that though, it seemed every time I talked to him I blushed, and I was certain he noticed because I saw him smile slightly to himself out of the corner of my eye. He was dressed in his normal threads-as a ted. And I was sure it looked slightly strange to see someone like me walking alongside him, I’d never really hung around anyone like him. 

“Thanks” I muttered, trying to silence my pounding heart. We walked in silence for another moment, and as we rounded a curb, I felt my shoes catch on a crack in the concrete, and I lurched forward into a puddle, o course it had rained just an hour ago. That’s my luck. Embarrassed beyond belief, I felt hot tears welling in my eyes as water seeped into the fabric, making me shiver with cold. I felt two hands grab mine and lift me up in a hug before swiping clumps of snow off my now soaking wet clothes.

“You alright?” Ritchie asked me, sounding slightly worried. “Sorry I didn’t catch you...” He pulled off my now useless coat and offered me his, again, with a crooked smile. Wiping my face, I quickly pulled it on and thanked him. I surreptitiously breathed in his scent that still lingered on the jacket. That was the second time I had fallen around him; he must think I was such a klutz…

“You’re welcome.” He said, letting go of one of my hands, but still holding the other as we continued to walk. He continued to hold onto my coat, but I noticed he was wearing slightly warmer clothes than the last time we had met, so I felt less guilty about stealing his coat. We walked slowly to my house, and I regretted when it finally came into view, but he opened the front gate for me, just as my father pulled into the drive.

He wasn’t as mad as I had thought he might be. He seemed to piece together my wet coat and clothes to the coat that I was currently wearing. All the same, he narrowed his eyes at Ritchie and then looked over at me, shaking his head and indicating that we could talk later. I stepped back and allowed him to walk in first, without a word, and he slammed the door behind himself, making me cringe.

“I’ll be sure to see ya tomorrow.” He whispered softly in my ear and we headed our own way.

***

My Father had only talked to me about his disapproval of him, and that he didn’t feel I should be hanging around his type, I tuned out about this time, nodding very seriously occasionally and agreeing to whatever it was he had mentioned. He was all idle threats; he very rarely carried through with anything at all. He had only helped me home, nothing more, and nothing less. And I’d heard the speech before, not from my dad. But he’d copied all his lines out of movies and stuff, so I took off respect points for lack of creativity.

Ritchie was there the next day, true to his promise. And I couldn’t help but feel immensely cheered up, despite getting a ‘D’ in social studies earlier. I was never too good in school anyway, even though my parents pushed me to get good grades, though they certainly never did well in school. I never heard of someone needing a scholarship to work at the docks.

“I see your coat dried off.” He said stepping over the crack that I’d tripped on the previous day. I felt heat rush to my face when he laughed.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” I said avoiding his gaze. He only shrugged.

“What’s to be sorry ‘bout? I’ve done plenny o’ fallin’.” He muttered, trying to keep things light, but I saw a dark flicker cross his face and remembered his stay in the hospital.

I felt my face grown even warmer as I tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. “How’ve things been going since you got out?” I silently scolded myself, for one; I made it sound like he’d been in jail, and two: I just mentioned the very thing I was trying to avoid.

But he didn’t seem to notice as he carried on, “Eh, mos’ly workin’ to be an engineer. But I’ve been playin’ the drums, I like that better.” I nodded,

“Yeah, I’d heard about that.” I said and he seemed to stand a bit taller at this, and I wondered for a moment how well he could play. We talked for awhile longer, and I found myself feeling friendlier to him, less formal. We didn’t suffer any more awkward pauses, and he enjoyed talking to me about his drumming. I didn’t understand half of what he said, but I listened any way.

As we neared my house I felt… sad? My father’s car was nowhere to be seen, but we went separate ways half a block away from our front gate anyway. He waved good-bye and I walked home quickly, trying to make up for the time I’d spent walking alongside him.

Homework was even harder to focus on than usual. Normally I’d find myself doing chores even to avoid it, so now that I had other things to think about, I didn’t want to even glance at it.

I never knew just what kind of thoughts could creep into your mind when you liked someone. They made me embarrassed to think them, and I tried to ignore them, but… It’s a wonder I even pass at all…

Once I was at my friends house, her name was Peggie. She was a cute girl, and she had a boyfriend, not to mention she was allowed to wear makeup to school. But only a little. We were doing homework together, she was a lot better at it than I was, and I was constantly frustrating her with my lack of attention.

At one point she slammed her book closed and looked at me, the sharp sound of the book jolted me from my thoughts and I turned, glassy eyed to her.

"Since you definitely aren't in the mood to study," She said and a bit of annoyance tinged her words, "did I tell you that Brian and Clara actually kissed the other day?" I pretended to be interested, but I really didn't care too much. And she must've noticed, because in the middle of telling me some rumour, she stopped and sighed.

"You've the smallest attention span the world has ever known." She said exasperatedly, opening the thick tome that rested on her lap. 

"Sorry, Peg... Just got a lot on my mind." I forced myself to read, but it was awhile before I realized I hadn't really taken in what was on the page. I stared out the window, thinking about how easy it would be to just not study and that maybe just one bad grade wasn't so bad, when I noticed Ritchie.

He was making his way down the street and I felt my breath leave me. I'd never had so much as a little crush before, so I had a hard time deciding if that was even what it was. It was just a weird feeling I couldn't name. Peggie seemed to notice something was up and she turned to look out the window.

"What're you... Ohhh." She said I could see her lips spread into a wide-faced grin, I felt my cheeks burning. Everyone seemed to know something about all this, except me. So I was terrible at hiding it because, I didn't know what to hide! It was all very frustrating.

 She pressed her face to the glass, not even bothering with subtlety. I hastily grabbed her by the back of her shirt and pulled her down. She was surprised for a moment and just lay on the floor, looking at me with her big mouth hung open and thinking.

"So, you like him?" She asked, biting her lower lip and looking up at me curiously. Amazing what she got out of all this, really. I pushed her away and glared.

"No, I don't." I crossed my arms and leaned against her sofa. I was a pretty bad lair... In more ways than one. I lied a lot. But not just about anything, I was real private about my business. Because it's mine. But I hardly ever get away with it, because I can't keep a secret, and people can usually tell when I'm lying.

"I think you do." She said, flipping too a page in her book. I wished she'd stop being such a know-it-all.  I continued to gaze out the window and she shook her head. "You're gone, ya know that? Real gone..."

***

Ritchie tried to visit after school a couple times, but I wasn’t allowed out until my homework was done, and I was slow with that kinda stuff. Once my father hadn’t even told me he came and I spent practically the entire night wondering if he’d forgotten about me already.

But the next day was Saturday, and my Father had no good reason to keep me in. The weather outside wasn’t bad, a little crisp and windy maybe, but not bad like so many of the other days had been. So when I heard a knock on the door, my head whipped around faster than I think it ever had in my life. My father beat me to the door.

He opened the door a few inches and when I caught sight of Ritchie's familiar clothing, I waved at him over my dads shoulder and saw him smile a little. Ritchie nodded a polite ‘Hello’ to him, and my Father managed to be civil, but when Ritchie asked if I was able to join him, my father turned to me, looking reluctant.

“You finished cleanin’?” He muttered, scratching the back of his head, I nodded. “Schoolwork?” I nodded yet again, and again as he went down his list of requirements- which was beginning to irritate me- when he gave up. “You better be back by three.” He said as I shut the door behind me. I had a little less than an hour, but it was still time to be around Ritchie, so I didn’t complain.

I was out the door almost before he could finish. It felt nice to be outside, and on the weekend too. Mostly we just walked, but when I felt his hand slip into mine not only did my face burn immensely, but my heart was hammering in my chest so rapidly I was sure it could win the Kentucky derby.

We passed a candy shop and Ritchie looked at me, and I wasn’t sure I liked that look in his eye.

“Whadd’ya say to gettin’ a treat?” He asked me, motioning toward the shop. A few children had their faces pressed to the glass gazing longingly at the chocolates and candies on display.

“Oh, I dunno Ritchie. I don’t have any money on me and-”

“That’s not a problem. You can just wait ‘ere. I’ll be back in a few.” Before I had a chance to protest he walked inside and the door caused a bell to tinkle, bringing the store managers attention to the potential customer.

I stood waiting nervously, trying not to seem to out of place. But as people passed by and I only stood there awkwardly, looking at the shop, I don’t think I did a great job. Time seemed to drag by, but I heard a shout from the shop and Ritchie came bursting through the doors, passing a few candies hurriedly to the kids at the window who shoved them deep in their coat pockets. He rushed by me, grabbing my arm and practically dragging me away as I tried to keep up with him.

The angry shop owner was throwing anything he could grab and shouting things at us that I would never repeat.  When we were far enough away Ritchie finally slowed to a stop and I tried to catch my breath. He was laughing slightly as he leaned against a tree and I took a moment to figure out where we were.

“Ritchie,” I began tentatively “Where… are we exactly?” It didn’t seem like a bad place, and other people were there. Maybe some kinda park, I worried briefly about getting back home.

“’S’only a park, not far from your ‘ouse, so don’ worry... You don’ get out too much do you?” He  chuckled softly and sat down on a bench.

“Er, not really.” I felt my cheeks burn again at how stupid I was being. He slipped the candies out from his pocket and I thought about refusing them for a moment, but hunger got the best of me. It was strange eating the stolen candies, they seemed to taste different.

We talked for what seemed like only minutes, but when I noticed the sun slipping lower in the sky, my heart skipped a beat. I glanced at the wrists of people walking by and I think Ritchie noticed my wandering attention, because he turned to see why I was staring at a man that was passing by and not him.

“One second.” I said as I stood up and tapped the man lightly on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” I said as he turned around to see who had been so rude as to tap his shoulder. “Do you have the time?” I asked and glanced nervously at the face of his watch as he lifted it to his nose.

“3:15.” He said and continued his walk, slightly annoyed. What’s his problem? I thought, but then realized what he’d just said. Ritchie had figured out by now what was going on and was picking up the bits of rubbish on the bench.

“You think your father’ll be real mad?” He asked and a noticed a slight note of worry edge into his voice. I shrugged as we walked briskly out of the park,

“I’ve no idea, but I hope not…” He nodded and he cut through the buildings, taking a rather grimier, darker route. A shortcut I guessed, though I wondered if it was short enough. It was still almost ten minutes later when my house came into view.

I was about to step out from a narrow space between the two buildings when Ritchie took hold of my hand and pulled me back. I was afraid for a moment when he brushed his lips lightly against mine, but my tension eased. I was sad, I admit, when I had to sprint away from him into my house after convincing him it would be better for him to stay back.

My father was on the porch, furious about my late return. I don’t know how many times I tried to apologize to him about staying out for so long, but he only ignored my apologies. I sighed as I slumped up to my room, gazing at the ceiling for the longest time.

How long would it be before he allowed me to even think about Ritchie again? I turned my face over into my pillow and sighed. I didn’t really mind if my father told me I couldn’t talk to him anymore, I knew I would anyway. But it’d make it so much harder to enjoy our times together…

In all the hurry of trying to get home, I only just realized with a thrill that that had been the first time I’d ever been kissed. I mulled this over and thought to myself about how much I liked the word, ‘kiss’.

Chapter One- All because of car trouble.

The day was mostly the same as any other in this drab spot of Liverpool, only things were getting colder.

I was preparing a breakfast of toast and a small bit of jam when I was roused from my thoughts by an awful bought of cursing from out front. Careful not to make a mess, I set the food down gently as I hurried to the porch finding my father, flustered and exercising his vocabulary fantastically.

He glanced up at me, myself being in nothing but a nightgown, and smiled sheepishly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Sorry ‘bout all the noise. Cars givin' me a bita trouble.” I took a small step back to get a better view of the rusty old car my father took so much pride in. Smoke was billowing out the sides of the hood, I felt my cheeks burn white hot as I realized people normally heading to work, walked especially slow to investigate our situation. One boy seemed particularly interested, his blue eyes scanning the car. He seemed almost cautious about approaching my father, who was fuming more than the contents of the hood. But with a moment’s hesitation he approached him. He seemed about 16 or so, perhaps a bit older. But I hadn’t seen him around our school. He dressed like the Teds, and that seemed to make my Father immediately suspicious.

“You know, if you’re havin' any trouble with your car, I’ve been learnin’ to be an engineer... I could probably help you a bit.” He said, he mumbled a bit while he spoke, but he was polite about it. Even so, my father was ready to refuse help when a small explosion sounded from within the hood, and more black smoke added itself to the already heavy smog. I suppressed a giggle, but only barely, and I caught the scornful gaze of my father. The boy also turned to see what he had looked at, but when he noticed me, he looked quickly away and I felt myself blush.

“Fine,” he grumbled, “But I can’ pay you.”  He warned. The boy shrugged, but held out his hand.

“Ritchie Starkey.” He introduced himself.

Oh… I knew him. I went to school with him when we were younger. He was always sick, we never really hung out or anything. He had only recently gotten out of the hospital with a coma or lung problems or something… He didn’t go to school anymore, some people said it was because he was too dumb to keep up, and that’s why he played drums. But he was apparently working, and he didn’t look too bad. My father introduced himself, but only as Mr. Webb. Ritchie lifted the hood in a cloud of smoke as I heard him erupt in a fit of coughing, though the smoke had cleared for the most part, the car didn’t look much better.

“Do you have any tools Misser. Web?” I tuned out as they discussed what they would need, and I had turned to step back inside, where it was a few degrees warmer, when my father called my name. I turned reluctantly, my toes felt numb with cold; the thin, frilled night gown was doing little to keep me warm.

“Ana, would you grab the toolbox out the back?” I nodded politely, but also silently wished I had put a pair of socks on, and stepped lightly through the door and into the house. I welcomed the warmth for the few seconds it took me to cross to the back. Our back yard was pitifully small, you could hardly call it a yard, and it was littered with tires and old car parts, and fish bones. Stray cats would frequent our lawn to snatch up any scraps they found, so we sometimes found fresh dug holes that’d been covered up by the cat’s who’d heard nature calling.

In the tall weeds, in a tire, I found the rusty toolbox. But the tools were surprisingly nice., my father had spent nearly all of his paycheck recently on them. They seemed so out of place amongst the rust and decay, their silver glinting in the early morning sun. I hurried out front, I would have to get back to breakfast, I really didn’t wanna keep my mother waiting.

Now, I’m not usually such a biff, but my nightgown hooked on the edge of the doorframe, and I lurched forward, skinning my knee on the stony ground, spilling out every last tool onto the street. I cursed under my breath and frantically picked them up, noticing the chips in a few of them, and trying to ignore my father’s censored screams. I was blushing, and blinking furiously to keep tears from my eyes, so I hadn’t noticed that Ritchie was helping me pick them up. I only noticed when I heard him gently set them down in the tin box. Quickly swiping the lone tear that had slipped down my cheek, I tipped the remaining tools in. He helped me up, offering his hand, holding the box in the other. I thanked him quietly, taking the tool box when he offered it back to me. I didn’t understand why my heart was hammering so loudly, I didn’t usually mind so much when my father yelled.

With my eyes downcast, I handed him the tools, and he snatched them from my grasp. I brushed past Ritchie on my way back in, hugging myself lightly for some warmth. I stepped inside, grateful to be out of my father’s sight, and to distract myself with chores, which was a strange thought.

I had forgotten about my knee, which was dirty, and blood ran halfway down my leg. When I reached the bathroom, I glanced out the window to See Ritchie still working on the car, my father peering over the edge for a look.

I ran the water for a moment, attempting to get it warm. I cleaned the cut quickly, and wrapped a bandage around it. Not much, because it wasn’t so severe. I slipped my nightgown off and dressed in clothes that were almost too worn for wear, but it was still my favorite outfit, and the color had not faded entirely from it, and the skirt wasn’t too short. I left my hair as it was; I couldn’t do much with it anyway, but it was still matted slightly with tangles from sleep.

There wasn’t any school today, even though it was Monday. Bank holiday or something.

My father came in; wiping his black hands on a black towel, one I could swear had once been yellow. He looked at me carefully, and then reached into his pocket, grabbing a few coins and paper notes. He pressed them into my palm and explained to me what I needed to buy. It was a car part, luckily a cheap one. But he needed it, and he had a friend who worked with cars and might just have a spare one lying around. Father made a lot of friends like this, assets in a way. He would’ve just given the money to Ritchie, but he wasn’t sure if he could trust him, and with good reason I suppose. The neighbourhood here isn’t exactly known for trustworthy people. And he couldn’t go, mostly because he had other things he might as well get done while he was delayed.

I didn’t own a coat or jacket, at least not one that wasn’t too small. I had been promised a newer one next time my father got paid, but my hopes weren’t high. I only slipped on a pair of shoes and the money in a fold in my skirt. I closed the door quietly behind me, not wanting to anger him much more than he already was.  He was testy that way, the little things bugged him.

Ritchie looked up from the car and smiled at me, just a friendly hello smile you’d give to anyone, really. But it still made my heart flutter slightly as I smiled back weakly. I had goose bumps on my arms from cold, but I managed not to let my teeth chatter, or to hug myself for warmth.

 “Your father said you’d know the way,” He said kindly, closing the hood to the car. I nodded, and awkwardly said ‘this way’ as I stepped outside the gate. He tried his hand at making conversation, but I don’t think I held my end up too well. “So, why aren’t you in school today?”

“I could ask you the same question.” I said with a small smile, and also worried he might take it as an insult. He laughed quietly, and I was relieved, but seemed reluctant to answer his own question, so I didn’t push it. We walked in an awkward silence for a few more moments.

“You cold?” He asked suddenly. He took off his black coat, thin though it was and faded at the elbows, and offered it to me. He had long sleeves underneath, while mine cut off right below my shoulders. I wished I could stop blushing so much that morning, but I think he blushed  a bit too as I accepted it from him. I knew how much of a cliché it was, but it was still a kind gesture, and even when the wind blew, he didn’t shiver. I pulled it on and noticed it was still warm from his touch, and it gave me a different kind of goose bumps.

After some moments of silence I could feel his eyes on me, and he spoke tentatively. “Your father usually yell at you like that?” He asked, and he seemed almost sympathetic about it all. “I know ya didn’ mean ta trip like that...” I twisted my fingers together tightly, and again I had to wonder why his every word made me shiver.

“He was pretty frosted this morning… But he only yells when I mess up. But it seems to be happenin’ a lot lately.” I wasn’t sure I felt comfortable telling him all this, but he didn’t judge, and I was grateful for that.

“You got a lot else to do today?” He asked, apparently sensing I longed for a change in subject.

“I’ll have to go get some groceries a bit later.” I said turning to look at him; I knew some part of me hoped it was more than a question he had asked just for conversation. “Why?” I ventured. The clouds in the sky darkened and a chill wind blew, turning my nose red in the cold.

“I actually have ta go pick up a few things in the shop next door...” He replied, not entirely answering my question and scuffing his feet along the ground. “Don’ s’pose you’ll mind if I join ya?” He smiled and it made my heart flutter again, but I wanted to stay cool in front of him, so I only shrugged and nodded, but he didn’t seem deterred by my seemingly-less-than-enthusiastic reception. 

When we got to Mr. Shaw’s house (the man who sold spare car parts), I handed Ritchie the money, feeling the warmth of his hand for a moment. The exchange took less than a minute and we were headed home, this time with less money and Ritchie holding a piece of metal in his hands.

“You mind staying for a cuppa?” I asked him impulsively after we’d walked for awhile in silence. It was only an excuse to keep him around for a bit longer, my dad was bound to be off soon as the car was fixed, that old piece of metal was older than he was.  And since he wasn’t getting paid, why not?

“Yeah, I could probably hang around for a while.” He said smiling brightly and handing the few shillings I had left, back.

 Right before we reached my house, I slipped off his coat and reluctantly handed it back. He handed my father the car part as we said goodbye to each other and I fancied I saw a flicker of regret as I walked inside, but knowing I was able to see him soon left a permanent smile on my face.

 I was still thinking about Ritchie as I wandered into the kitchen for something to drink, when I spotted the abandoned toast on the counter. Silently cursing myself I quickly made some more, and decided I would eat the cold and crumbly toast. I carried the warmer slices to my mother on a tarnished silver plate; she smiled weakly at me as I entered the room, propping herself up against the pillows and closing the book she held in her lap.

I was a lot like my mother in some ways. She loved reading, and she was the one who helped feed my love of books. She had an entire shelf, crammed with old books she'd collected over the years, and I found myself completely enthralled in the words set on the pages. She used to read to me when I was little, and if there was anything she enjoyed more than books, it was music. She kept an old radio on the nightstand next to her bed, and she listened to it frequently. She always said it made her feel better, if only for a little while.

She set the book aside as I set the tray in her lap.

"What's your father out there shoutin' about?" Her voice cracked painfully from disuse, but it grew stronger as she continued to talk.

"The cars broken down a bit. But there's a neighbourhood boy helpin' him, his name's Ritchie." I smoothed the blankets at the foot of the bed and sat down.

She sighed and picked at her toast. I could tell there was something bothering her, but I wasn't sure she wanted to talk about it, so I didn't say anything. She pulled the tea to her lips with a shaky hand, the contents of the cup threatening to spill out.

We sat there for awhile, not talking. It was okay like that, talking confused things. She had almost finished her breakfast, or eaten her fill anyway, when I heard the engine sputter out front and the sound gradually faded. There was a knock at the door and my mother looked at me curiously. People didn't usually visit.

"You know who that might be?" She asked, finishing the last of her tea.

I could feel my cheeks burning and and looked away as casually as I could as I answered a little breathlessly, "Probably Ritchie... I invited him for a cuppa, since he wasn't getting paid..." I was embarrassed and didn't even know why.

My mother smiled at me, apparently she knew and wasn't gonna share, I saw a spark of the playfulness and beauty that was once hers return. I didn't know why, but that smile made me fidget uncomfortably. I picked up the tray and left her room, closing the door on my way out. I quickly put the tray in the sink and rushed to the door, worried I had delayed answering too long and he had gone.

When I opened it, it was of course Ritchie standing on the door step. He rubbed his hands together for warmth as he blew in.

I started the tea, and we chatted lightly while we waited on the water to boil, careful to keep quiet because I'd told him my mother was asleep.

When we finished our tea, he thanked me for it and offered to help me to clean the dishes. I remembered our earlier agreement for him to join me on my venture to the store, and grabbed my small purse. I placed the few shillings and pounds in it my Father had left on the counter, I wouldn’t be able to get much, and I was slightly embarrassed by the pitiful amount and shoved it in my purse before he could see it.

Once outside, things seemed a bit warmer- though the thermometer didn't say so. I felt a pressure on my shoulders and glanced behind me.

“I think I can deal with the cold for now.” He said with another smile, which warmed me far more than the coat had.