Page 12 of Shy Girl
She reminded me of Bastian.
Quiet. Unassuming. Non-reactive. Sebastian, our thinker, where still waters ran deep. Dagny had that same vibe. The churning in my brain increased, because at one point she’d also reminded me of Vik with her unflustered courage. Something was coming together.
Something that felt a lot like a plan.
“No problem,” I said to buy some time. “I’m glad you’re okay. You stayed really calm through the whole thing.”
“W-without you, it w-would have b-been a disaster.”
“I heard a rumor that you're graduating college soon. What's your degree?”
If I surprised her, she didn't show it. “Construction management.”
“You want to build stuff?”
She shrugged. “I l-like using m-my hands and b-b-being outside. The m-management p-p-part appeals to me.”
“That's fantastic.”
She smiled and the final piece came together with an audibleclickin my head. Grady. Her ease of talking about herself and her goals and her love of working with her hands reminded me of Grady. Little pieces of this woman that could relate to every single one of my friends.
My very protective, difficult-to-talk-to friends.
Friends that were intimidating by reputation alone, not to mention stoic attitudes and wild disregard for societal rules—namely Bastian and Vik.
A car pulled up to the drive thru, so Dagny took a step back. “Have a g-good night, J-jayson.” She hesitated, as if she were about to say something else, then turned to the drive thru.
Meanwhile, a crazy idea grew in the back of my mind.
And I knewexactlywhat I was going to do.
5
Dagny
The next day, I stared at my mother’s dilapidated house. Fading paint. Old porch. The windows were clear of dust except for the corners, but revealed only piles and piles of stuff inside. Tension vibrated through me as I closed my eyes and prepared myself to enter.This is fine,I told myself.I don’t have to speak. There is no pressure to have the words.
I loved my mother and her wild ideas. There was a quality of sincerity within her that few other people had achieved. She lived her life the way she wanted to, and other people could go shoot themselves in the foot—her words, not mine. But trying to get a word in edgewise had always stymied me.
Mom loved to talk.
Unbidden, Jayson’s rolling laughter from last night slipped through my mind again. He’d been entirely too attractive while standing in the coffee shop, laughing about something I hadn’t clued into yet. The humiliation of my assumption about his “dates” followed shortly after he left and I’d stewed in the horror of it for a bit.
Those girls had all beencousins, not dates, and I could have seriously offended him when I rated one as two stars. Mortification tripled back through me, and I groaned. Now I felt less prepared to face Mom than ever before.
I tilted my head back and took a deep breath. Perhaps I could gather my courage if I just sat here for a few minutes. To marshall my bravery, I slipped to the place I always went when I needed to ground myself.
Airfare: $500
Hotel: $500 for a 3-night stay.
Food: $100
Rental car: $300
Gas: $100
Extras: $200
