The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon by Amy Lunderman Read Free Book Online Page B

myself lately. And maybe I should. Put it on my fridge even. Just to remind myself that this is all a do-over, so I never forget. But then I think better of it, I’m sure no one does weird things like that. The goal here is to be normal. Not be any weirder.
    That’s what I keep repeating, as I dress in the baggy short jeans and another too big t-shirt, and even more so as I knot my hair atop my head. Knowing I’m not going to be any more presentable than I already am, I head back towards the door. To downstairs. To Chance. I’m not surprised when a blush coats my cheeks before I even have the door fully open.
    ***
    At the bottom of the stairs, I’m tempted to bolt back into my apartment and hide. It’s better than having to walk over to the boy that is casually leaning against the hood of his mustang. I don’t know what’s worse. The sly grin on said boy’s face or the speed I know that car will be able to go with me in it.
    Both I’m sure.
    Said boy, still grinning, straightens himself and goes about to casually standing in front of me. The movement causes me to take a half step back out of habit and I find myself craning my neck to stare up at him. All I want to do is look away. I just acted like the scared little rabbit again. It’s a habit I need to break out of. Some habits are hard to break though. I was like a broken colt pushed into submission all my life and now I’ve fled to the wild.
    Some things take a while to get used to I guess. Like talking to pretty eyed boy’s for example. Who have no problem smiling at you while they wait for you to speak.
    I clear my throat and avert my eyes.
    He chuckles. “Didn’t mean to startle you rabbit.” He says softly.
    I quickly glance up at him, “You didn’t.”
    His sly little grin turns half mocking in a way that makes my insides mushy.
    “I meant for earlier.” His grin widens and I blush not able to look away from him. “My coming to your door all unannounced like.”
    Of course, silly me.
    “Oh. Right. That. Sorry….for….you know. The door closing.” I stammer out with a blush so dark I’d be shocked if I wasn’t glowing like light bulb.
    He chuckles again (something I think just might be my favorite sound) and turns away to face his car. I’m just glad to have his stare directed at something other than me. It’s never good to show up to a job interview with sweaty pits. Or at least I think anyway. Oh who am I kidding, I don’t know anything anymore.
    “You know if I could count on one hand how many pretty girls closed a door in my face.” He looks over his shoulder at me and my heart stops. Did he just call me pretty?
    He pauses for a second, then turns back around and says, “Well you know what I mean.”
    Um, no. I do not.
    But I want to. Are their many girls he makes so nervous that they slam doors in his face? If so, what is my competition? Who am I kidding; I’m no one’s competition, least of all not someone vying for Chance’s attention.
    I grumble a response that sounds like an agreement, though I’m sure it sounds like a frog is stuck in my throat.
    We stand in silence for a moment, and I wonder if I did something wrong. Not that I mind the view with him facing his car. Not in the slightest. I prefer the blue of his eyes though. Then he’s turning back to face me, like he heard my unspoken plea. I certainly hope not. That’d be so embarrassing.
    He waves his arms to the general direction of the car and says, “You ready to scoot?”
    “Huh?” I whisper.
    He chuckles. I’m mortified.
    “Are you ready to go check out the sub shop Ash was supposed to take you to?”
    Now I’m certain he thinks there is something wrong me with. I think there is to. This isn’t going very well, maybe I shouldn’t go anywhere with him. Even if I want nothing more than to be trapped in a car with him, it’ll do nothing good for my burning cheeks.
    So I say, “You don’t have to take me you know. If you just point me in the right