"Me? I'm sure you've got all the embarrassing stories from my parents; you already know about my nickname."
"Eggy." I tease.
"You didn't have to mention that."
"I think I did. Now start talking." I grab a skillet, put it on the stove, and add the onions, butter, garlic, flour, salt, pepper, and various other ingredients making the gravy. I stir it.
"My upbringing was like your perfect suburban lifestyle. My mother's a doctor, dad a lawyer, so we never had financial problems. I and Bridget were in clubs growing up, Girl Scouts, went to camp. I did gymnastics when I was little, then moved into kickboxing. Bridget was a dancer, then moved to cheerleading. My parents got her into kickboxing, but she quit once she learned she had to actually kick."
"High school was good for me. I participated in a few clubs, being on the newspaper and honors society. When I turned 16, everything changed." She becomes quiet, watching as I stir the gravy, it's thickening under our eyes.
"Does this have anything to do with the car accident?" I know she doesn't want to talk about it, when I brought up her not driving in the car, she went silent, looking at the trees, throw up on the street, anywhere but me. It had to have been something traumatic.
She nods.
"Do you want to talk about it? I would never push you; you know. I know these things can be hard to talk about."
"No, I, strangely, want to talk about it. It's about time I say it, plus, I trust you." She glances at me. I give her time to start the story.
"It was my 16th birthday, and like every other teen, I was excited to get my license. My dad took me to the DMV, even stood there while I took 10 photos, wanting to get it perfect. He let me borrow the car that night, taking it out on the town with my two friends, Alexis and Blake. It was very dark, barely any street lights, and the light was flickering back to green and red. I took a chance and pulled out; I didn't even see the truck."
I hold no emotions on my face, not wanting to scare her.
She continues, "The truck hit the side of the car, on the passenger's side. I remember waking up, it felt like I was asleep for hours, but it was only a few minutes. I had a few cuts and bruises, nothing serious. But Alexis and Blake, they-" She chokes up. I reach out for her, but she moves away from me. "They were in horrible condition, I mean wretched. The cop kept asking me what happened, trying to get my attention, but I couldn't speak, couldn't move. I focused on the flickering light, and the cold Boston air."
She breathes, "Eventually, I talked to them, told them what happened. Since it was an error on the town for not fixing the light, I was off the hook, but still felt like it was all my fault. I was the one driving, I should have had better judgment if I would have just-"
I sit down the spoon, turning off the stove since the gravy is done. My arms pull her to my chest.
"What if someone sees?" Her voice came out muffled.
"Who cares." I rub my hand over her head. "It wasn't your fault, Elizabeth. Don't let anyone tell you it is, you didn't know, you were only a kid. You've got to let it go." I say softly.
Her voice cracked, "But I can't, you didn't see it. Blake was a swimmer; she broke her leg and lost her scholarship to the University of Austin Texas. Then, Alexis broke her back, was in the hospital for months, and had to get intense physical therapy, while I came out unscathed. It was unfair, why wasn't I hurt?"
"If you spend most of your time wondering about things, why they happen and don't, you'll go crazy E."
She lets me go after 10 minutes, "Thank you for listening to me. I haven't told anyone that story in a long time." She wipes her tears.
"Glad it was me you told, and you can talk my ears off I could never get tired of you."
In the living room, I hear Doug say, "Is the food almost ready, I'm practically malnourished here."
I scream back, "Almost. Let's get this food made before he comes in here and chew our heads off."
"Yeah, I like my head." We both laugh.
We spent the rest of the time fixing the chicken pot pie. Elizabeth got the chicken ready while I flattened out the crust some more, stuffed everything in, molded it all together, adding butter to the top.
After 45 minutes of cooking, the chicken pot pie came out perfect, smelling fucking amazing.
Dinner was nice, we spent most of the time listening to Doug tell us about his upcoming match tomorrow against Iowa State. Doug is ranked top 10 in the country for college wrestling, he's incredible. He's a pretty big guy, weighing 200 pounds, most of it being muscle, I would be scared to face off against him.
If he wins this match, then he's going to State and could take home first place. He's been working on this since freshman year, wanting to go to state. If he keeps this up, the success he could have would be crazy.
Everyone compliments me on the food, but I tell them not only to thank me but Elizabeth. She just shrugs it off and says the thanks should go to me since I'm the one that did most of the work, all she did was chop up vegetables.
As everyone kept eating, my eyes kept moving to Elizabeth.
I can't believe she told me about what happened. It was something I could tell that's been eating her up for a while, and maybe her joking around all the time is a defense mechanism or just who she is. I, too, would be in shambles if I was driving and crashed. I've been blessed to never have been in a car crash.
Now knowing this deep and dark part of her, everything is changing, moving.
She trusts me, fully.
I'm getting too close to her, and can't stop myself. I heard her talking to Cross, saying that she likes me, and may want more, but I don't want a girlfriend. She also said she didn't want a boyfriend, but maybe that was because she knew I didn't want a relationship.
She's going to want more, I know it, and I can't give it to her.
I can't get hurt again, not even by Elizabeth.
72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ950TQmPddA
