Page 40 of The Curve
“One year, eleven months, three weeks,” she corrects me.
“Your birthday’s next week?”
“Yep.”
“How shall we celebrate? Your mom planning a party?”
Her face scrunches up in disgust. “Better not be. I hate parties for me.”
“What? Come on! At the very least we should do something fun. What about having Paige join us for dinner and whatever else you girls would like to do? A movie? Concert?”
“I’ll think about it.”
I know when to stop. Mallory’s not one to be pressed into doing anything she doesn’t want to. I’ll talk it over with Charlotte.
“So, you’re looking forward to driving, huh?”
“Mom says as soon as I get my first job she’s gonna match whatever I save so I can eventually buy a car.”
“Got one in mind?” I say taking the final turn leading to our destination.
There’s a lightness as she tells me her plans. “My dream car is a new Mustang. I love the look of them and they have a good rating. But that’s just fantasy. I’ll probably get something older, but with decent mileage. I’m thinking maybe a KIA.”
“That’d be good. I remember the first time I drove away from my parents’ house the day I got my license. It was an awesome feeling of freedom.”
“Holy shit!” She covers her mouth with her hands, embarrassed she swore in front of me. “Opps. Sorry. But look at this place!”
My eyes follow her pointed finger. It’s not at all what I expected, this over-the-top version of a Southern mansion complete with too many towering columns and a goofy looking Midas statue in the center of a massive fountain. “Holy shit’s right,” I say, agreeing with Mallory’s assessment. We both start laughing.
I turn the car onto the circular driveway and take our place in line for the valet.
“But look, Atticus! Isn’t that beautiful?” We watch a uniformed kid get in and pull away in a light blue ’67 pristine Mustang. Its owner is watching his baby being handled by a bored looking sixteen-year-old. Mallory’s lifting in her seat for a better look.
“Oh man. That’s nice,” I say.
“Okaythat’smy new dream car.”
“That’s over half a century old. Classic. You’ve got great taste, girl.”
A little smile accepts my compliment. That’s a first.
“Hey, maybe today you can do me a favor,” she says.
“Anything.”
“Just take a look every so often. Make sure I’m not standing alone somewhere. It gets embarrassing.”
My heart breaks a little with her request. “You and me Mallory, we’re here together. Don’t worry about that at all. I’ve got your back.”
“Okay. But if I’m having fun with Paige, you don’t have to watch every minute.”
“Got it.”
There’s rules to follow with a teenager. Her insecurities remind me what it was like, even though I lived such a different kind of childhood.
“Maybe we can have a secret word. Mom and I do that sometimes. If I say it, we can leave.”
Her head dips a bit as her voice trails off. Man, that took balls for her to say, but I feel happy to know she’s letting her guard down with me. I could kill the assholes that’ve hurt her.
