Chapitre 15: Chapter 15
I stand frozen in place, staring down at the towel, which is pooled at my ankles. Seconds turn into minutes, and I'm just staring at the towel. I can't believe I'm standing naked in my bathroom with Dirk Adams looking at me.
I'm naked. I'm mortified. I urge myself to bend down and get the towel, but I've forgotten how to move my limbs. I've got some kind of disconnect happening between my brain and my limbs.
"Would you like me to get that?" he asks.
I shut my eyes. Maybe if I can't see him, he can't seem me. I hear him approach, and my skin comes alive as he bends down and picks up the towel, and his hair grazes my body ever so slightly.
"Lift your arms," he says, his voice impossibly low and smooth. I lift my arms and crack open my eyes, looking up to meet his gaze. His brown eyes have turned black as night. He looks a lot like his alter ego Jake Storm right now. Like he's going to blow something up or steal my car.
Gently, he wraps the towel around me and rests his hands on my chest where the towel comes together. I gurgle and cough. First my limbs and now my power of speech. I'm falling apart.
"I may be having a stroke," I finally manage to say.
Dirk flinches and seems to wake up. He runs his hand through his hair and looks around. Anywhere but here, I think. He turns around and bolts out of the bathroom, letting my towel fall back to the floor. This time my limbs work, and I quickly grab it around me and shut the door.
I take deep, healing breaths, but it's not enough. I still feel like I've been hit by a truck. I lie on the bathroom floor and try to calm down. Really, Dirk has no idea of the power he has over women. He needs to register himself as a lethal weapon.
I get dressed in jeans and a blue top. "I'm coming out," I announce. "I'm not naked."
Dirk is sitting on my bed, rifling through my high school yearbook. "This is Wade?" he asks, showing me his photo on the senior page. I nod. "'Susan, have a nice summer, your science partner, Wade Gates,'" he reads. "Who's Susan?"
I look at the photo of Wade. His thoughtful blue eyes stare back at me. I drew red hearts all around his picture right after graduation. Mistaking my name hurt my feelings at the time-especially since there wasn't even a Susan in our class to confuse me with-but I'm just happy to have his autograph. I touch it and smile.
"Oh, you've got it really bad," Dirk says.
"I thought I made that clear," I say. "I have it really bad. Really, really bad."
He closes the yearbook. "Okay. We'll make it happen."
The Twilight Zone music is still playing in my head. "Why are you here?" I ask.
"I'm going to help you. Operation Jealousy. He'll finally see you because I'll worship you, and you'll pretend you don't care about him."
"This sounds like an episode of The Brady Bunch."
"In which you're Jan."
"Typical. I've always wanted to be Marsha," I say and sit down next to him. "Why are you doing this? You don't even know me."
"Maybe I don't have anything better to do."
"You're Dirk Adams. Everything you do is something better to do."
"I'm not really Dirk Adams."
"Huh?" I ask.
"I'm Adam Dirkson."
"Adam Dirkson," I say, tasting the name on my lips. "Are you sure?"
Dirk takes his wallet out of his pocket and hands me his driver's license. "That's an old one from before they made me change my name."
It's definitely him. Younger, but unmistakable. His hair is blond and wavy, and his smile is brilliant as always, but with something more. Eternal potential with no pressure or worries.
"Adam Dirkson," I read. "Six-foot-four. Two-hundred-twenty pounds. Yep. It's you."
I return his license. He glances at it and puts it back in his wallet. I don't know why he's confiding in me. I search his face for a clue, but I get nothing. Just sexy movie star face.
"Okay. I'll be your Jan Brady," I say. "But I don't really understand how this is going to work."
"Just follow along. We'll set the foundation now so it rings true when Mr. Perfect comes to town in five days."
I don't want to pretend I have a boyfriend in front of my family, but he has a point about making this work. The illusion has to be complete.
"Okay."
*
We practically have to fight our way out of the house. Lennon called my other six brothers, and they ambush Dirk in the kitchen. Dirk insists on holding my hand to make the boyfriend thing believable. I guess as an actor, he's all "method". He doesn't fall out of character once.
"Dude, that scene where you jumped off the cliff onto the car, jacked the car, drove off the bridge into the water, went over the waterfall, steered to shore, and drove all the way to downtown Los Angeles. That was epic!" my oldest brother, Gandhi says.
I roll my eyes and try to grab the picnic basket, but I'm blocked by a wall of testosterone. "Arm wrestle me, man," Lennon orders Dirk. "Come on, let's see what you got."
"Yeah!" my other brothers shout. Suddenly they've turned into the World Wrestling Summer Slam, and my mother's kitchen is the center ring. Meanwhile, my sisters and mother are nowhere to be found, leaving me and Dirk against the band of mouth breathers.
"We have to go," I say, trying to get to the basket, again. I still can't get past my brothers. "Out of my way," I grunt, pushing at them. No luck. They're immovable.
Then, just like the Red Sea with Dirk as Moses, they part. Dirk's muscle-bound arm paves the way for me to walk past my brothers and get the basket.
"How about another time?" he asks my brothers. "The little lady says we have to be on our way."
The little lady. The little lady?
"No problem, man," Gandhi says, slapping his back. "We'll wrestle tonight, when you come back for the party."
"Party?" I ask. "What party? No, no party. Dirk, you don't have to go to any party."
"We'll arm wrestle and wrestle for real," Gandhi says, ignoring me.
"Fight club!" Lennon shouts, and my other six brothers cheer on this fabulous idea.
"No! No fight club!" I yell. "You don't have to do the fight club," I tell Dirk. "Or the wrestling. Or the party. In fact, you never have to come back here again. Never."
I direct the last part to my brothers.
"A party sounds like fun," Dirk says, and he's greeted by another round of my brothers' cheers.
Lennon slaps his back. "Of course we're going to have a party. My sister's dating Dirk Adams!"
My head begins to throb. How am I going to pretend that a movie star is my boyfriend in front of my whole family? I grab the basket in one hand, and I drag Dirk out the door. Once outside, I gasp fresh air, and he takes the basket from me to carry.
"That went well," he says.
"Maybe I can get us out of the party," I say, biting a fingernail. "There must be a way. Maybe I could set fire to the house."
"Fire to the house?"
"No, you're right. They would just move the party outside. What we need is a major earthquake or a tsunami."
He gives my hand a squeeze. "Okay, girlfriend. Which way are you taking me?"
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone