With Eyes Of Green

I woke, my head feeling better. Our raid was but two days ago, and already my skull was mending. It's good to be young.

While I cleaned up, and got dressed, my heart fluttered around my rib cage. My cheeks retained a permanent flush. I had this insane excitement to see Daisy. But I didn't want to look like a total tool, nor did I want to trip all over myself trying to impress her.

Well . . . when one feels awkward, one cannot help but be awkward. So I warned her.

"Hey!" I said, complete with a big stupid smile.
She was even cuter in the light. We met in the hallway upstairs, and stood toe-to-toe. I am sure it was the whole screwy teenage interaction.
"Hey." she smiled, "How's your head?"
I just smiled; bigger.
She giggled at me. It was completely stupid.
And awesome.
That's when Scotty appeared down the hall. He smiled when he saw me, and walked toward us. He locked on to Daisy.
That's when I felt a stirring I had never felt before. I moved closer to her. I think it was a bit obvious, because Scott threw me a brief, albeit bewildered look, and continued walking to us. He stood by me.
"Hey Martin."
I shook my head. My smile reappeared. "Hey, man." I was shocked at myself. The smile I wore was icy. Why was it cold? Something was worming through my innards.
"Daisy." he said, "How's Beth treating you?"
"Oh, uh . . ." she scrunched her cute little nose like something was amiss, "I think I'm invading her space."
Scott laughed. The worming creature bared its teeth. I frowned.
"Well," said Scott, "I could move in with Martin while you're here . . ."
"Great idea!" I blurted.
A dozen schemes whipped past my mind. With Scott under my thumb I could have Daisy all to myself . . . Wait. What?
I looked at Daisy. You remember that awkward feeling I had? It had multiplied. I could feel myself behaving like a jerk, but I couldn't turn it off.
"Scott would love to give you his room." I said.
Scotty's smile left his eyes, but remained fixed on his face. I looked him over as he chatted with Daisy, and felt myself hating him. His stupid, mousy brown hair, those cherub cheeks, his round teeth, and the way those dimples sunk into his face like two stab wounds. I flushed with something other than humility.
I grabbed his arm and looked him in the eye, "Let's get moving, bud."
Ice cold.
He nodded, ever the nice guy. I walked into my room, and about slapped my forehead. No. I did slap my forehead, right on the sore spot. That pain ebbed into my skull. As my stomach lurched, Daisy came in.
"Are you ok?" she asked.
I shook my head. When she didn't respond I pointed to my bandage, and mimed hitting myself in the head.
"Well what did you do that for?"
"Feeling stupid." I said.
She giggled again. That made me feel better.
"Can I help?" she asked.
I groaned, "I just don't know where I'm going to put the kid." I said. My room was not the biggest in the house. It accommodated a full-size bed, a closet full of clothes and other crap I hadn't seen in months, a dresser, a tv, a sad looking bookshelf, and about 40 square feet of carpet. I know there's not 40 square feet of Scotty, but he was going to be cramped in here.
"Martin." she said, "I don't think we should move Scott in here."
Scott? I thought. "Scotty." I said.
"Scotty."
"But what about you and Beth? Tensions?"
"There are other rooms in the house." she said.
"On the bottom floor." I said, alarmed.
"No." she said, and pointed up. She leaned in, "There's an attic up there, plenty of space. I could spy on you through the vent in the ceiling."
My heart fluttered. My smile returned. She smiled back at me, plain . . . no. Simple. Wonderfully simple. I knew then this girl could keep a clear head in any situation. It gave me hope. Flimsy hope, but hope nonetheless.
Scotty walked in with his bag, and a pillow and blanket. I went to him. "Keep your room for now, buddy. We will figure something else out."
Scott looked relieved. "Are you sure?"
Daisy nodded, "We will."
Scott left and went to his room, closing the door behind him. She smiled at me, and scowled at the same time.
"Something wrong?"
"No, no . . . I . . ."
"Hup." Dad said as he came in, "Now now. I know you're both responsible young adults, but if the chemicals are still like they were in my day, I would like you to visit anywhere besides a bedroom."
I went flush again. I was kind of glad he said chemicals, and not hormones. Daisy smiled, suppressing a giggle.
"And where are we supposed to hang out, Dad? In the hall? In Beth's room?" I was being a jerk, again.  Now I felt really bad, but I didn't like this positioning. "We will behave ourselves." Oh geez.  I cannot believe I said that. I almost slapped my forehead again. My skull ached, remembering the pain.

"It's ok Mr. Ashton." said Daisy, "I will see you in the hall Mr. Martin." She raised her eyebrows at me as she slipped past Dad. I looked at the carpet, hoping to get distracted by its immense detail. The thing actually came to life if you stared at it long enough.
Dad came in the room, and sat next to me on the bed. "Are you alright, son?"
"Fine. My head still hurts." Any excuse not to own up to my behavior. "Sorry." I threw in. My knee started bouncing, I just wanted to be out in the hall with Daisy. My ears were ringing. Dad was talking, but I didn't catch a word. That thing was worming through my guts, again. What if Scott was out there? What if he was sneaking his way into her favor, now? What if she had forgotten me, and got lost in his baby blues? He was a bit buffer, more of a solid guy.
Most importantly, what the heck was wrong with me?
". . . We don't know this girl, son." Dad was saying.
"I can make good decisions." I spat.
Dad went quiet. I had never snapped at him. He furrowed his brow, and looked at me. I could see it out of the corner of my eye. I was still staring at the carpet. I couldn't meet his eyes. The carpet rippled and swayed.
"Can I go?" I said.
Can I go? I thought, How about sorry for being rude, Dad. Help me. I don't understand these feelings. I need someone to tell me what is going on. But I just focused on the carpet, bouncing my knee, and wished for him to leave. After a moment he did. He sighed, and left my room shaking his head.
I felt so bad I had become completely turned off to everything.
Fine.
If Daisy wanted Scott, whatever. She could have him. I wasn't going to bend to her will, be her little dog. If she wanted to see me she could come in the room.
That would tell me she cared.
By what, Martin? By breaking Dad's rules?
Dad's rules are foolish.
She's a guest. Her obedience is her survival.
Who is talking to me?
The sense your ignoring.
Dad wouldn't kick her out. If he kicked her out I would follow.
Like her "obedient little dog?" Come on.
I shut that voice off in a hurry.

My head was pounding, now. I thought I should get up, tell Daisy I was just going to lay down and for her to have a smashing day, but I just laid down and turned off my lantern. My dreams of love and romance had been crushed.
I tried hard to forego self-pity. Didn't work.
In a half-sleep I thought I heard rapping on my door. But it just folded into a dream I was already swimming through. I wasn't sure if it was the dream, or reality.
Daisy gave me both a strong sense of hope, and put me in an abysmal state of despair. Ugh. I had it partway figured out. She was very mature.
How old was she?
She couldn't have been older than me. Remember what I said about fawns? This one wasn't a fawn. She was a doe. A full grown, young, supple . . . Graceful, lithe . . . geez. Couldn't stop thinking about her any more than I could stop my heart from hammering.

Two days ago I was hoping Zed wouldn't eat me, or any of my family. I was hoping the Marines weren't in on some apocalyptic conspiracy, and that the source of the infection was as benign as we all hoped it was. I was focused on doing a sketch with Scott and Beth, where I served them at a table and influenced their witty small talk. My goal was to nail the punchline, the one I knew would make Mom bust a stitch in her side, and call every Zed for a thousand miles with her hilarious, howling laugh.
Now I was caught in one heck of a strong, and overwhelming swirl of surreal feelings. I don't think I like this.

I've never wanted to be accepted so bad in my life. I never had to be. Never had to be.

Why does it matter?