Free My Stupid Girl by Aurora Smith Page B

wanted to get them out, “you remind me of
him actually." She turned her face towards me again, boring holes in my
eyes.
    "Opposites attract." I said
stupidly, hoping that she knew I was talking about her parents.
    "It seems that way a lot of times,
doesn’t it?" Her head returned to my shoulder when she spoke. "I want
a marriage like they have. They balance each other out so well. It seems where
one is lacking the other is strong."
    "You are like your mom." I said
to her.
    "Yeah, that’s what everyone
says." She beamed at me like I’d given her the biggest compliment of her
life, which was kind of funny. If someone told me I was like my dad I would
probably punch them in the face.
    Which, in hindsight, would make them
correct.
    "How come you and ‘pretty boy’ broke
up?" I attempted to ask casually, trying to make it seem like it had just
occurred to me. Like I hadn’t been thinking about it all night long. I could
feel her frown, even though she didn’t move her head.
    "Ahh, well, you know. People grow
apart. You realize you want different things. Yada Yada Yada." She spoke
quickly, in a rush, like I had hit a nerve. “Besides, isn’t that a little
hypocritical, calling him a ‘pretty boy’?”
    “What, what? Why?” I hoped she didn’t
consider me a pretty boy. 
    “Nothing.” She said, turning her head up at
me with a sly smile. It was really unfair that she could be so maddening and
strikingly precious all at the same flipping time. I decided to ignore her
latest jab, and tried to continue with my own line of questioning. It was only
fair.
    "You two seemed like a good fit."
I wasn’t managing to hide the bitterness in my voice and I knew it.
    "Why? You think we belong together
because we’re both popular? Because we both have the same friends and share
similar beliefs?" Her voice sounded flat, and her shoulder was kind of
stiff like she was feeling squeamish. But I honestly liked seeing more than the
squeaky, fun bubbles in her personality. It made her real. It wasn’t all
sunshine and unicorns and sparkles. At least not ALL the time.
    "Yep!" I said, "that’s
exactly what I thought."
    "Well, you’re wrong, David." She
glared at me, giving my arm a little slack for the first time since we’d sat
down. "I don’t want someone in my life that just looks the part. I want
the real deal!" She looked deep into my eyes. All noise suddenly got shut
out, like I had been plunged underwater. My stomach did about six somersaults
at that look, without my permission. It took me a minute to get the next words
out.
    "So, what are you doing here with
me?" I couldn’t help but ask. This whole night seemed like a contradiction
to me.
    "Because you’re real." She didn’t
even wait for a response, her gaze immediately turned back to the night. I said
nothing. It was deafening.
    "I want to be like you, David,"
she blurted into the night.
    "What are you talking about?" I
asked, stunned.
    "You’re so..." she paused, stuck,
but looked determined to explain herself. "You are very kind." It
came out slowly, like that wasn't exactly what she meant to say but that was
the best she could come up with on short notice.
    "I'm kind?” I barked out a hard laugh.
“You don't know me, Lucy."
    She wouldn't be saying that if she knew how
I felt about her before we had officially met.
    "I do, a little.” My snort went
ignored and she kept going, “I want to get to know you more, but I see that you
have a heart like God’s. More than anyone else I've ever met, anyways."
She was being serious; I could tell by the way she was looking at me. I,
however, was totally lost.
    "I don't even know what that
means," I said.
    "Listen, I went to the lake with my
youth group from church. Not one of them tried to save me. I mean,” her face
scrunched up, “I guess Mike did, but when he felt like his life was in danger
he bailed. You, a stranger, ran after me and when you saw the situation get
worse you didn't run away. You actually went in after