Chapter 6
Lucky went downstairs and angrily dug through his mother’s CD collection. “Come on, Mom. I know you have Shania Twain somewhere....aha! There it is!” He quickly took the disc upstairs to his room and put on the song Elizabeth had mentioned. He couldn’t help wondering why she brought it up.
The song started playing, and he sat down on the bed to listen.
I've known a few guys who thought they were pretty smart
But you've got being right down to an art
You think you're a genius-you drive me up the wall
You're a regular original, a know-it-all
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else
Okay, so you're a rocket scientist
That don't impress me much
So you got the brain but have you got the touch
Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright
But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night
That don't impress me much
I never knew a guy who carried a mirror in his pocket
And a comb up his sleeve-just in case
And all that extra hold gel in your hair oughtta lock it
'Cause Heaven forbid it should fall outta place
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else
Okay, so you're Brad Pitt
That don't impress me much
So you got the looks but have you got the touch
Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright
But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night
That don't impress me much
You're one of those guys who likes to shine his machine
You make me take off my shoes before you let me get in
I can't believe you kiss your car good night
C'mon baby tell me-you must be jokin', right!
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're special
Oh-oo-oh, you think you're something else
Okay, so you've got a car
That don't impress me much
So you got the moves but have you got the touch
Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright
But that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night
That don't impress me much
You think you're cool but have you got the touch
Don't get me wrong, yeah I think you're alright
But that won't keep me warm on the long, cold, lonely night
That don't impress me much
Okay, so what do you think you're Elvis or something...
Whatever
That don't impress me
Lucky sat back as the song ended and ran his hand through his hair. Is this really what she thought of him?
He scolded himself for that thought. “Why do I care what she thinks? If I didn’t have to work on this thing with her, I wouldn’t give her the time of day anyway!”
He decided to kill some time by searching through his own extensive music collection for a song they could use. Knowing that she would probably turn down whatever he chose, he was going to make a list. At least one of them would have to be good enough. Something told him this girl was going to fight him every step of the way.
Realizing that there wasn’t exactly an abundance of love songs in his collection, he went back downstairs to look at his mother’s again. His dad was sitting on the couch, reading the paper.
“Hey, Cowboy. Did I just hear country music coming from your room?”
Lucky rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but don’t ask. It’s a long story.” He put the CD away and started looking at the others.
Luke put down the paper. “Ah, one of those. Okay, who is she?”
“Why do you assume this is about a girl?” Lucky asked angrily. He hated it sometimes that his father knew him so well.
“Well, for one thing, you’re looking through your mom’s music. For another, you’re way too flustered for this to be anything else. So fess up. What’s her name?”
Lucky sighed. He knew his dad wasn’t going to let him off the hook. “Elizabeth Webber. She just moved here and we got stuck doing some dumb home ec project together.”
“A Webber, huh? Any relation?”
“Yeah, Rick is her uncle. Don’t get any ideas, dad. She’s a total brat. It’ll be all I can do not to kill her before this project is over!” He went back to his perusal of the CDs.
Luke laughed. “Sorry, son. I’m afraid you don’t have a chance here. Spencer men have a weakness for Webber women. Don’t fight it.”
“Not this time. We can’t stand each other, and I don’t see that ever changing.” Lucky picked up a CD and read the song list on the back.
Luke decided that he better change the subject. “What’s this project you’re all upset about?”
Lucky knew his dad was going to have a field day with this one. “We have to get married for a semester.”
Luke burst out laughing. “I told you Cowboy. It’s fate!”
“It is not fate!” Lucky said angrily.
“Okay, then how come you’re partners?”
“The teacher decided.” He didn’t like where this line of questioning was leading.
“And why did she put you two together?”
He sighed. “Because we were both late, but it was her fault!”
“The teacher’s?”
“No, Elizabeth’s. She thought that I took her parking space and flipped out on me. She ended up having to park all the way at the end of the parking lot and I felt bad, so I waited for her and walked into the building with her.” He saw the look on Luke’s face and interrupted whatever he was about to say. “She was being horrible and rude to me, but it was her first day, so I figured the least I could do was help her find her first class. Then it turned out that it was the same as mine, and when we walked in, the teacher had already assigned partners, and we were the only ones left.”
Luke looked at his son for a moment. “And that doesn’t sound like fate to you?”
“No, it doesn’t! If she had just moved on, I would have just parked and gone inside, but she had to get out of her car and start reaming me for taking her space!” Lucky’s face turned red, and Luke figured it was time to stop teasing him.
He nodded at his son and got up to go into the kitchen, but before he left, he muttered, “Fate.”
“Is not!” Lucky yelled after him. He looked back at the pile of CDs in front of him. “This will have to be enough.” He picked them up and went back to his room. He tried to pick out songs that were sentimental enough for Ms. Kraft, but not so much that he would throw up. He finally had a small list, and decided to call it a night.
[song credits: “That Don’t Impress Me Much” words and lyrics by Shania Twain and R.J. Lange. ã 1997 Songs of Polygram Int’l/Loon Echo Inc. and Out of Pocket Productions Ltd.]
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