Page 10 of Picking Daisies on Sundays

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The wallpaper above her bed frame was glued in my brain the way it was glued against her walls. I got so close to running my fingers against it.

A wedding party softball game was what Levi had told me last night. Goosebumps had risen on my arms at those words, because to play softball in front of a group of people I didn’t know was one thing. But to play in front ofLevi?Well, I was screwed.

You would think this situation would be ideal seeing as I played softball in high school. But, you’re wrong. Because when it came to doing anything in front of Levi, I was a complete disaster. Anytime there was a chance of impressing him, my body failed me.

He used to come try to come to my games every Saturday morning and I’d have to create some elaborate lie as to why he couldn’t come, because I’d only ever hit foul balls when he was there. Every time he came, I felt this intense pressure to be good, which made mehorrible. Like I wasn’t leavinghome basetype of horrible. The only reason he knew I was good was the other players cheering me on in class the next day after I’d hit a home run for us—a game he wasn’t there for, obviously.

Looking back at myself in my bedroom mirror, I sighed. A white tank, and an open navy-blue button down that met the ends of my denim shorts felt like a sufficient outfit for softball game. While large cherries dangled from my ears; something I had picked up at the flea market weeks ago after leaving the fabric store.

My hair was just long enough to sweep into an elastic and through the back of Dad’s old baseball cap. Moving closer to the mirror, I searched for any rogue eyebrow hair and put lip gloss on, praying it’ll keep me from gnawing on my bottom lip.

My mom always said that was a bad habit. She was like that; always wanting to make sure that she fixed every aspect of life, making up for the lack of a father figure the past few years. Her fixing ranged from convincing me not to get bangs to holding my hands when I cried on the kitchen floor over a ruined dress.

As stressful as it was to be a Type B raised by someone so Type A, she dedicated every unfree hour to me when I needed it. Did it often involve a mountain of sticky notes, putting plans in her Google Calendar, and creating to-do lists that I don’t think are appropriate for certain situations? Yes, but I loved her for it.

The sound of a car horn made me jump from the mirror and toward the window. Lifting the window up with a grunt, I leaned out to find Levi getting out of his car.

Sticking my head out the window, the greenery that climbed the brick of the home brushed my head as I tried to get a peek of his figure. I admired how the sunlight shined through the hanging trees, highlighting his brown hair, and making his eyes look like a mixed paint palette of shades of green. His eyes were this special hazel that could go from greens as vibrant as ivy to the deepest ofbrowns. Curse my perfect eyesight.

“Coming!” I shouted, causing Levi to look up in surprise, a smile effortlessly spreading across his face. Closing the window, I ran down the stairs right as I began to panic. Could I do this?

I could do this. I’ve made an entire dress from a pair of jeans in one night before. Was it ugly? Definitely. But did I do it? Yes, and that’s all that mattered, so maybe I could handle this too.

But as I pulled the door open and saw Levi standing there— backwards baseball cap and T-shirt with rolled up sleeves that clung to his biceps and all—my ability to speak expired. He looked so perfectly toned; you could see it in the way he gripped a drink or picked up his sisters. He had just enough muscle that would allow him to pick you up, kiss you, and carry you over his shoulder. His dark, loose curls were just spilling out from under his hat, and his lips looked darker under the shade of the trees and townhouse awning.

I watched as his lips formed a small smile because—oh my gosh—I’ve been staring at him. How long had I been staring at him? Speak Daniella, speak.

Trying to regain any possibility of looking normal, I said, “I’m almost done, I just need to finish my make-up.” I led Levi out of the townhouse foyer and into Mandy’s unit.

“Daniella Maria wearing makeup? To think I thought you hadn’t changed,” Levi teased as he took in the eclectic apartment around him. Windows that were ambushed by ivy; flower arrangements on every surface that stood; corduroy mauve couches decorating the living room we stood in. As well as the fashion magazines Mom and I shared, dancing along the coffee table.

“I haven’t seen your family in a long time, I want to impress them,” I shouted back in defense. Applying makeup and parking a car were one in the same to me. They were two difficult things that I only did when necessary. Parallel parking and applying eyeliner were not natural things. But if I was going to fail at softball today, then I at least needed to look presentable.

I jogged up the stairs to the bathroom, creating as much distance as I could between Levi and I to let my body return to a normal internal temperature.

“Especially when I have no idea what you’ve been saying about me the past few years,” I said laughing, leaning over the sink, applying mascara. It was supposed to be a joke, but I kind of wasn’t joking.

Levi laughed, the sound of his voice becoming clearer as he appeared in the doorway of my bathroom. “It’s nothing bad, don’t worry,” he said shaking his head. I felt tempted to ask him what he had been saying. But as he leaned against the doorframe, I refrained from asking.

I had so many questions that I yearned to ask him, so many things I wanted to share with him. Every bone in my body wanted to revert to high school habits when we held hands and stood a footstep away from one another when speaking. But my present self was too nervous to even look him in the eye, let alone try to start a conversation about our past.

“Dani Daisy, we’re home!”

“Crap,”I muttered, my lashes brushing mascara into my eyebrows because they reached so high. My mom and Mandy were supposed to be at the farmer’s market for at least another

two hours.

“Is that Linda?” Levi held a mischievous smile, obviously excited. Of course he would smile, my mother loved him, everyoneloved him.

“I didn’t tell her or my aunt about this,” I said stressfully, referring to this fake dating plan we had.

“Mandy’s here too?” Levi asked with even more excitement.

“What are the chances you’ll go out the window?” I asked with aI know it’s a slim chance but pleaselook.

“We’ll just tell them the truth,don’t worry,” he said nonchalantly.