When The Heart Heals

Chapter 1-2

After practice, a freshly showered Drew, his hair still wet despite the biting January cold, located Alyssa in the choir room and followed her to her car.

The crusty old family sedan in the final stages of decomposition, heavily rusted, did not surprise him at all. Hope it runs, he thought with a frown, eyeing the decaying exterior as she opened the driver door with an audible groan of metal, but when she turned the key, it started right up and purred. Someone's taken good care of it… at least of the mechanical parts. He felt a little bad, following her in his almost new Trans Am. He felt even worse when he parked in front of her… home.

Alyssa lived in a mobile home, in a seedy trailer park on the east side of town. Drew's neighborhood was only a few blocks away, but for all the close proximity, it could have been another planet. Others of the same sort surrounded the pretty, spacious red-brick rambler he shared with his dad; large lots, manicured lawns, all well-kept and clean. The Millers' mobile home was old but tidy, with no junk in the yard.

Many of the neighbors seemed less fastidious. Broken toys, empty cans, and cigarette butts lay strewn everywhere, and across the street, a man with a huge beer gut sat on a broken-down folding chair, in a dirty tank top and unbuttoned flannel shirt, smoking something that neither looked nor smelled like a cigarette. The man eyed Alyssa with unwarranted interest. She shivered, and Drew deliberately stepped close to her and put his arm around her waist, making them look like a couple. He gave the pothead a hard look and escorted Alyssa into the house.

Huh. It's not as bad as I expected, he thought, considering the mobile home. While made of cheap materials, someone had taken obvious care to make the place look nice. A comfortable sofa faced a small television in the living room, and the end table had a bouquet of plastic flowers in a pretty vase. The kitchen sparkled. The room smelled fresh.

Alyssa grew a little pink in the face as Drew scrutinized her home. He still had his arm around her, and she hadn't shaken it off yet.

“Nice place,” he said at last.

She reacted strangely, flinching as though he'd offered a blow rather than a compliment, then her eyes widened, and she stammered, “Th… thank you. Shall we get to work?”

“Sure.” He walked her to the kitchen table, at last releasing her slender waist, and they spread out their homework.

A few minutes later, a thin, middle-aged woman with a sad expression on her face ambled out of one of the bedrooms. Drew stood as she entered.

“Hello, Alyssa,” she said, giving her daughter a hug.

“Hi, Mom.” She kissed the woman on the cheek and smoothed a strand of fading light brown hair from her forehead.

“Who's your friend?”

“This is Andrew Peterson. We're doing a school project together.”

Mrs. Miller's eyes narrowed a bit at the mention of his name. “Oh. Nice to meet you, Andrew.”

She must remember… all the trouble I've had with Alyssa, he thought, but since she was observing the protocols, he could do the same. “Nice to meet you too, ma'am.”

He shook her hand politely. She gave him a sad-eyed smile and went back the way she had come.

A thousand half-formed questions crowded into Drew's mind, all awkward and none his business. He kept them to himself.

They worked for a couple of hours, finishing the script together and practicing their lines so they could say them smoothly.

“Allie, when do you have your next day off from work, so we can finish this?” he asked, as he pulled on his letterman jacket and gloves.

She thought for a moment, one finger tangling in the bottom of her strawberry blond ponytail. “Well, I work tomorrow and Friday until close, and I'm opening Saturday, but I should be off Saturday afternoon, say about four. Would that work for you?”

Uh oh, so much for my date. Marcie will understand though. It's school. She'll understand, but she won't like it, he amended. Drew felt a profound sense of relief at being able to put it off. “Sure, that would be fine. Listen, I have to go. Dad's expecting me for dinner.”

She smiled at him. “Okay. See you in class tomorrow.”

Why have I never noticed what a pretty smile Alyssa has? Maybe because we used to frown at each other all the time? Shaking off the unwanted thought, he said, “See you. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Thanks for your help.” Alyssa rose.

Drew glanced out the window. “Hey, don't walk me out, okay? That guy's still there and I don't like the way he looked at you.”

She shivered. “He freaks me out.”

“Keep your distance from him.”

“Right.”

Drew walked out to his car. He gritted his teeth and growled. Someone had dragged a key over the cherry red paint. That figures. Poor Allie, having to live in this junk heap. Rolling his eyes in disgust, he drove home, still thinking about her. It's amazing how being polite to someone changes the entire nature of their relationship and my own feelings about her. Working with her was almost like working with a friend, and he suddenly felt protective as well. Marcie isn't going to like this.