Howie, who was sitting beside AJ, was dressed, head-to-toe in Tommy Hilfiger. It struck her as funny since he was bound to get extremely dirty with all the work they were here to do. She didn't care for the ponytail in his hair, but it did draw out his huge brown eyes even more.....and those slightly bucked teeth of his were so white (maybe because his skin was so dark). She would definitely give him a second look on the street, even if he was entirely too short for her preferences.
AJ cracked her up. He had on a white tank top with a light blue shirt over it, and his pants were that baggy style (khaki's) that she HATED so much. But for some reason, it suited him well, even if it made him look like he had no ass. His goatee also was pretty cool, even though she had thought "Oh God" when she'd heard about it from Sandra. It was amazing how perfect and detailed it was (he must have someone trim it for him). Once he'd taken the sunglasses and she could finally see his eyes, she was totally at ease with his appearance (even the hair - what was up with his hair???). The deep, soft brown eyes betrayed his bad ass image with warmth.
Kevin. She laughed to herself when she looked at him, remembering the point in the kitchen where she'd almost thought he was going to kiss her.....yeah, right. He was incredibly good looking. The dark hair and Siamese cat green eyes were truly remarkable, as well as the way his face was so sharply contoured. Even dressed in a Kentucky Wildcats T-shirt and jeans he was outstandingly sexy, obviously the man of the Boys, both in maturity and physique.
Then there was Nick with his recently donned handkerchief on his head ("his hair was getting in his eyes"). She just couldn't believe how big he was in comparison to the others. He had to be at least an inch or two taller than Kevin, and he definitely weighed more on average than the rest of them (they looked like little twigs beside him). He was just so......big. Big hands, big arms, big feet, big everything. He looked more like a football player than a dancer. She just couldn't picture him dancing.......and with the huge baggy T-shirt and striped wind breaker sweats, he looked even bigger and lessgraceful.
And Brian. She really liked Brian, right down to those darned flaring nostrils of his. He was so sweet. She wasn't sure if it was the Southern accent or the permanent smile he always had on his face, but she almost felt a compelling need to reach out and hug him. He was so TINY sitting next to Goliath (Nick). And those blue eyes of his. WOW. It was as if the most beautiful blue summer sky had been collapsed and poured into them. He had on a Kentucky Wildcats T-shirt and jeans, too. Funny, she thought. Those damned hillbilly's think they've got the market on basketball....
AJ cleared his throat to speak. "So, Angela, Kenneth was pretty ticked about you guys going to McDonald's. He was upstairs jumpin' my shit."
"Yeah, I know," she replied. "He jumped us outside."
"He took my Durango," Nick interjected.
"Nick, he HAD to take the Durango," Brian argued. "Can you let it go?"
"Now, how are you related to Kenneth? Is he your Dad?" Howie asked.
"Ummmm, no. He's not my dad." Angela always hated this topic. Time for explanations, time for details. What happened? Oh that's so sad. I'm so sorry to hear that. Blah, blah, blah. "He and his wife, Ann, are my foster parents."
Howie looked at her quizzically. "And you're how old?"
"I'm 24. They're letting me stay with them until I graduate," she replied calmly without trying to sound defensive.
"From college," Nick added.
AJ donned a nerdy geek voice. "Really, Nick? And I thought she was still in high school."
"Well, I KNEW it wasn't high school, I just meant....well....forget it." Nick was notorious for trying to join in conversations and saying something irrelevant when surrounded by the rest of the group. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed when under self-induced pressure to fit in.
The question Angela had been dreading came from an unexpected source: Howie. She had thought that Nick would be the culprit, since his mouth tended to run before his brain caught up with it. Howie paused a little between words, knowing it was a delicate topic, and his eyes filled with compassion. "So.....what happened to your parents, Angela?"
It never failed. Every time that question was asked of her, it was like she was sucked back in time to the moment she'd heard the news. Her volleyball coach, Mrs. Durham, pulling her away from the other girls as they were celebrating their semi-state victory, tears in her eyes. "Angela, I need to talk to you privately, sweetie." Walking down the cheer-filled hallway of the civic center, to a small, dim-lit room. Standing there, knowing that something terrible had happened, but not wanting to know what. "Angie, your family didn't make it to the game tonight because they were in a very bad car wreck." The words echoed through her mind....."Michael was driving, and a semi crossed the line......the driver fell asleep at the wheel...." Silence, as the moment of dread that was hovering over the room pulled her in to its sickening embrace. "Angela........they didn't have a chance....I'm so sorry." After that it was as if her spirit had left her body. As if it weren't really her Mrs. Durham was telling this to. They said she'd passed out from the grief.
Howie's voice pulled her back to the present. "I'm sorry, Angela, that was rude. I didn't mean to be so insensitive. I'm sorry. Forget I even asked."
Angela blinked and said, "No, it's okay. I just....I was just thinking....They were killed in a car accident. My brother was killed, too. It's been eight years, Howie. I'm alright talking about it now," she lied. She took a deep breath of rejuvenation before standing up and tried to sound as pleasant as possible. "Well, I'd better go see what you guys got done in the bathroom, so we know where to go from there."
As Angela walked up the stairs to the bathroom, the aching inside overcame her and she stifled her sobs with her hand. She closed the bathroom door behind her and sat down on the freshly-cleaned toilet with her head in her hands. 'Every time', she thought. 'Every freakin' time.' People had told her it would get easier with time, but it didn't. It was the same sick feeling as it had always been. God, would it ever go away?
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Tewlve
Story Index
