TROUVAILLE ... l.danes (REWRITE)

chapter fifty-three; the past

BUT, WHAT IF IT ALL GOES RIGHT?

nineteen-eighty-three

LUCAS TRIES to creep down the stairs without the creaking giving him away. He's supposed to be doing homework, but he couldn't give less of a shit, and he could see Jeff waiting for him in the square from his bedroom window, so here he is, trying to sneak out.

He's dead if his dad catches him.

A loud laugh cuts him off and he presses himself against the wall. He's finally reached the bottom of the staircase, the door is so close. He just needs to grab his jacket hanging by the mirror and he can get out of here, away from bat-like ears waiting to punish him.

"Billy, you know I'm right."

"Pam, you're always right. But, I'm not betting." 

"Why? Know I'm gonna win, do ya?"

Lucas just has to creep very slowly over to the door. He starts but that laughter comes again and he presses himself as close to the wall as he can. It could swallow him up. He'd be better off if it did.

"Why don't you get outta here? I've got a business to run, and I can't do that if you're trying to twist my nerves."

"Oh, please, who needs a hammer at six on a Thursday?"

He can almost picture his dad throwing his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. It's the same stance he does when Liz and he get into an argument.

"Just $20. Who asks who out first?"

"He's my son. He's gonna do the asking."

"Oh, puh-lease. Charlotte did the asking if I remember correctly. You were too busy shitting yourself with nerves every time she walked by."

"Pam!"

"Bill!"

Another long sigh and Pamela laughs again. Lucas cannot get himself to move. Are they betting on him? Against him? He is so close to the door, he just needs to walk out, to leave, to go see Jeff and forget about this. But, he cannot move.

"I bet Shelley. If she's anything like me, she won't want to wait."

"Pam, that Shelley is nothing like you. She's Marlon. You've got better luck getting a mute to ask that boy out, is all I'm saying."

"Oh. You're on."

It is him. Not only that, it's Shelley. It's Shelley and him. All summer, he's been thinking about it, about making that move and asking Shelley to go somewhere with him, to kiss her again, to feel that same warmth spread through him the first time he tasted her lip gloss. But he can't. He sees her walking towards him, head stuck in a book, and he crosses the street because he can't look into her eyes without falling into a daze. He's too afraid to do anything about these big, messy feelings that keep pounding in his stomach.

How is he supposed to ask her out?

And, even if he does, what happens? They date all through high school and what then? She goes to Harvard and he trails behind her like a lost puppy, the boyfriend who is always on campus because he has nowhere else to go. They go through all of that together and slowly start to resent each other because they have never known anyone else. They get bored. They start fighting. Then, what? He loses her forever.

He doesn't want to lose her.

Can he lose her if he doesn't even have her to begin with?

But, what if it all goes right?

What if she goes to Harvard and he stays here and they do the long distance thing? She comes back, she writes for the Stars Hollow Gazette, and they settle into one of the houses on Apple Tree Lane. He takes over his dad's shop and they are happy. In summer, they sit on the porch and let the sun wash over them and smell the apples in the air. In winter, she throws snowballs at him when he's not looking and he laughs as he tackles her into the snow he's just piled up at the side of the driveway. And then, one day, when she's smiling and he's smiling and they're happy, he pulls out a ring.

And she says yes.

He can almost picture it so perfectly. Him, standing in the gazebo, brand new fairy lights strung around the chipping paint. Her, walking across the grass, white dress bouncing around her legs. Her dad would kiss her cheek and she would take the few steps up to meet him right in the middle. Miss Patty would officiate and everyone in town would be invited to cheer them on. And they would kiss.

And she would be wearing strawberry lip gloss.

He runs out the door, not caring for the creaking floorboards, or the way the coat rack shrieks across the wood when he grabs his jacket haphazardly. He just runs, trying to forget the smile on Shelley's face in his dream.

Lucas Danes cannot get the girl. He's never been that lucky.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jeff hands over a can of root beer he stole from his dad's secret stash in the garage. They sit on the steps leading up to the gazebo and all Lucas can think about is that white dress. He wants to marry her someday. He wants to kiss her again and again and again.

"I think my dad is betting on me to ask out Shelley."

"Against who?"

"Her mom. She bet she would ask me out."

"Does she want to? Shelley, I mean."

Lucas shakes his head. Shelley would never date him in a million years. Not even if he begged. He is not and never will be her type, not when he left her at the bottom of the high school hierarchy so he could race right to the top. He should be begging on his knees apologizing before he even thinks about asking her out.

He can't face her.

"Well, if nobody asks the other out, nobody loses money."

Lucas nods.

But, God, he desperately wants to ask her out.