Cole
I’m not sure why I agreed to let Holly build a computer for Jane, but I’m starting to think it was a colossal mistake. For one thing, I’ve been thinking about Holly far too much for comfort.
Hell, I shouldn’t be thinking about her at all. Especially since things are going so well with Cherrybomb.
It’s just… It’s not easy to ignore someone like Holly.
I first took notice of her in my junior/her sophomore year in high school, when she told Rodney Harringer off in the high school parking lot one afternoon in early October. Apparently, she’d set him up with a sophomore, and he’d called the girl a slut after she refused to put out at the post-football game party the previous Friday.
I’d known Holly since first grade—Highland Hills isn’t that big, and everyone knew everyone in school—but something about the way she stood up to him flipped a switch. Sure, she’s always been mouthy and slightly irreverent, but that day in the parking lot, she was fearless, staring up at the senior linebacker as though she could single-handedly beat the shit out of him—despite the fact he was over a half foot taller and nearly one hundred pounds heavier.
The image of her is still plastered in my head, even though it happened nearly two decades ago. Her hands on her hips, her chin lifted, the wind blowing her hair, and the edge of her skirt like she was some damn superhero.
Rodney backed down, but I’d been ready to step in if necessary.
However, while Rodney has never been the sharpest tool in the shed, he’s not a complete idiot, and he realized the crowd wasn’t on his side. Truth be told, I wasn’t the only person ready to intervene on her behalf. At least a half dozen other guys—and a dozen more girls—were closer and ready to jump in.
After that, I took more notice of her. I heard about the award she’d won for a fucking hilarious app she put together, warning students when to stay away from the cafeteria because it was “mystery meat” day. And everyone knew the story of how Holly Mayberry, on a dare, hopped the fence at a local farm and rode one of the horses around the paddock in the moonlight. Or how she convinced Draper Hiddleston to sell her moonshine to bring to a party.
Holly Mayberry was kind of a legend, truth be told. Then, a year later, I stumbled into her in the woods behind our houses. She was crying, and seeing her like that was a shock to the system. Of course, I knew she was capable of crying. EvenIhad cried when my grandmother had died a few months before, but Holly had seemed so invincible. Seeing her like that, she seemed like the rest of us mere mortals.
So I pulled out a Crunch bar like an idiot, desperate to make her feel better, and asked her what was wrong…
We spent hours talking. Hours. A lot of it was about feelings, something totally uncharacteristic for me, but it felt easy between us. It felt like time had ceased to have meaning, and we were the only two people in the woods, or maybe in all of Highland Hills. But timewaspassing, and when it started to get dark, I walked her home.
I told her I’d be seeing her, and when I said it, I meant it.
I intended to ask her out. But after I slept on it, I realized it was a bad fucking idea. Holly Mayberry wasn’t the kind of person who would stay in Highland Hills, and I already knew I’d never leave.
I didn’t want to hold her back, and I also didn’t want to be someone she left in the dust on her way to wherever it was she was going.
I figured I’d keep my distance, and all would be well for both of us, but she got a chip on her shoulder about the whole thing. Baiting me. Teasing me.Annoyingme. Then another senior guy asked her out in a big public display in the school cafeteria, and she said yes. I felt some regret for holding back, but I told myself it was for the best, particularly because she seemed to have decided annoying me was her favorite pastime.
I started spending time with Millie, we fell in love, and the rest is history.
But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’ve wondered what would have happened if I’d gone through with asking out Holly out…
Whether things would have been different between us.
I especially wondered about that after we kissed last fall.
Calling it a kiss sounds ridiculous—we went at each other’s mouths the way we usually go after each other’s throats, but as soon as her brother interrupted us, she said it had been a mistake, and before I knew it, she was back to throwing barbs at me again instead of kisses. I don’t even know why she pulled an about-face, other than my reputation, deservedly, for not being a relationship guy. She made it clear in a dozen different ways that she thought poorly of me, and if she was attracted to me, it was against her will.
Maybe you should ask her.
I give the thought some consideration, then dismiss it. Holly’s helping Jane, no more and less. No need to rock the boat. The truth is, Holly has turned out to be a good role model for Jane. She’s smart, gainfully employed, and hopefully not as much of a rule breaker as she was back in high school.
This has nothing to do with me. I’m here to collect my daughter and oversee the whole computer operation. Still, I find myself pacing the hall outside the classroom while I wait for Tech Time to be dismissed. When the kids finally pour out a minute before their dismissal time, Jane’s not with them, and I don’t see Mikey or Holly either.
I poke my head in the open doorway to check. Jane’s shoving her arms into the sleeves of her jacket when she sees me, and her face lights up.
Any lingering doubts over whether this is a good idea evaporate like raindrops on a sunny day. I’d sell a kidney if it would make my daughter this happy.
“Did the parts show up?” she asks, practically jumping up and down.
“Brittany says they were delivered ten minutes ago.”
After I agreed to this whole spectacle, reluctantly, I rush-ordered a few parts Holly said we’d need.
