Bellamy's Redemption

“Well, like I said, I usually go to the gym.”

“You never mentioned that before.”

“Well, Pete, we don’t share everything.”

“Okay.”

“But on a nice day, that’s where you’ll find me. On the treadmill. Treading along.”

“Really.”

“But today, well, you know, there are weather warnings, so the gym was not an option.”

“Of course not.”

“And I don’t like to sweat in my apartment. I’m kind of a neatfreak.”

Pete had been at his door and I had been at mine, but right then and there he came up to me, all tall and snowy, scruffy and coffee-ish, closer and closer until he was just inches from me. He looked down at me, making me feel very small. A clump of snow fell off his sleeve, onto my ankle.

“Brr,” I said.

“Would you like to go out sometime?” he asked me. Quietly, seriously. His eyes locked into mine. His mouth was relaxed, so soft I wanted to kiss it, but his eyes held an urgency I hadn’t seen before.

I realized I was nodding. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, I would like that.”

“How about tomorrow night?”

“Okay.”

“Eight o’clock?”

I nodded.

“I will come by here and pick you up?”

I nodded again.

“Good,” he said. “See you then.”

“Yep.” I smiled and nodded. I went inside my apartment and closed the door.

My heart was fluttering. Racing. I hadn’t felt so dizzy over a guy since my crush on cutest-guy-in-the-class Charlie Denson back in seventh grade. I skooched right down the wall onto my butt, my feet sliding out in front of me. “I’m in trouble,” I said. I sighed and rested my forehead against my cool palms. The floor was freezing cold beneath my butt. I shivered. My heart wouldn’t stop racing. “Pull yourself together,” I whispered.

I stood up and checked my reflection in the mirror in my foyer, to see how bad I looked. Ugh. I looked even worse than I’d feared. My hair was a mess, piled in a sloppy sideways bun on top of my head. My face was flushed. My robe was hanging open with some cheap, stained pajamas peeking out beneath it. I took a deep breath. “What are you doing?” I asked myself. “You are about to get your big chance with Bellamy. Bellamy Timberfrost! The Bellamy Timberfrost. The hot, famous guy, who until very recently was just some famous person you would never know. Now you are very possibly going to meet him,

maybe fall in love with him, and maybe even marry him. You can travel the world, be on TV, and maybe even get a Diamonds by Deluxe engagement ring. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Don’t ruin this opportunity by getting sidetracked.”

But my speech had not convinced me. I sat down on my sofa and gave myself part two of the speech: “Pete Vincent, on the other hand, is sleazy. Everyone says so. Do you really want to be Mrs. Infomercial? He is charming you with his charm. Charm is his thing, his special talent, and that is what’s going on here. He sells crap for a living, and now he is selling himself. He can sell anything to anyone, and Emma, You Are Falling For It. Wise up, sister.”

I waited for the truth of these words to sink in, but they hovered instead. The problem was, I didn’t want to believe them. Instead another thought came in, pushing them away. “Don’t talk that way about Pete,” it said.

I laid down and buried my head in the pillows, irritated with myself. Was I simply a boy-crazy idiot? Maybe. Although I typically didn’t get crushes on anyone, now here I was, liking two guys at once. What was the matter with me? Perhaps my hormones were having a flare up. Maybe I was going through menopause.

While I lay there, contemplating my next move, my phone rang again. It was in the pocket of my robe, so I took it out and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Emma Van Elson?”