The kids loved it. As I sang along, I watched Elise and Josh, entranced. Usually I’m fine with being an only child. Sometimes I’m even glad that there’s no one else around to bother me. But right then I felt the loss. This is what having brothers and sisters would have been like—this fun, this noise. I envied Elise the inside jokes she shared with Josh. I envied the way her little sisters looked up at her with admiration. I would never have any of that.
The older children abandoned their crafts and came over asking for rock-a-bye-baby rides, so Samantha and Chelsea got another blanket and formed a second line. We swung the kids until the first mother came by to pick up her children; then Samantha told the kids if they helped us clean up, they could have some cookies to take home. While Elise and I folded up the chairs, Samantha sidled up to Josh with a gleaming smile. “I don’t think we’ve officially met,” she said. “I’m Samantha Taylor.”
“I’m Josh Benson.” He nodded over to a table where Olivia and Abby had gone back to dipping their cookies into the bowl of frosting. “Those are my sisters. Unless they’re misbehaving, and then they’re Elise’s sisters.”
Samantha let out a tinkling laugh. “You just moved in, right?”
“A couple of days ago.”
“If you need any help getting around or if you have questions, feel free to ask me. I’m available.” The way she said it made it clear she was available for more than questions.
I didn’t hear more of their conversation because Elise came up behind me. She whispered, “Great. The cheerleader is hitting on my brother. I will totally gag if she starts showing up at my house.”
“Make sure she sits in Goliath’s chair,” I said.
“It will be her seat of honor.”
We took our chairs over to the far side of the room and stacked them against the wall. “I bet she starts being nice to me now,” Elise said. “Girls always do once they like Josh.”
“Tell Samantha he likes dingy, helpless girls who snort when they laugh.”
Elise raised an eyebrow at me. “You have an evil streak, Cassidy. I like it.”
I snuck a glance at Josh. He was smiling at something Samantha had said. “Do you think he likes her?”
“No. Josh thinks he’s too mature for anyone my age.”
“Oh.” It shouldn’t have stung, but did anyway. Josh thought I was immature. “How lovely for us.”
A little while later my mother stopped by to give me a ride home. She asked if Elise needed a ride home too, but Josh had brought his car so Elise declined the offer. Mom spent a few moments exchanging pleasantries with Elise, asking her how she liked her classes and that sort of thing. Mom was all smiles, but I could tell she was watching Elise closely, evaluating her, probably waiting for her to do something psychotic.
Elise didn’t, of course.
On the ride home I told my mom, “Elise’s really funny and she’s nice too. All of the stuff before—I think that was just her having a hard time moving to a new place.”
“Why was her brother there?” Mom asked. “I don’t think Rachel will be happy when she finds out you had guys over.”
“It was just one guy, and he was only there because Elise’s little sisters wanted to come. I thought it was nice of him to stay and play games with the kids.”
“Hmm,” Mom said, unconvinced.
Really, my mother was way too suspicious. What sort of illicit thing did she think was happening with fourteen little kids running around the room?
The next morning at breakfast, my mother mentioned to my father that she had met Elise’s parents. Mr. Benson had dropped his wife off at the caterer’s, gone to their store, and then picked her back up again when the women finished making cookies.
“The Bensons are that boy’s parents . . . Josh, right?”
“They’re Elise’s parents,” I said.
Dad grunted unhappily about this. “We should get to know them better.”
“No, you shouldn’t.”
“We’re friendly people,” Dad said. “We like to meet our neighbors.” He turned to my mom. “So what did you think of them?”
“They weren’t what I was expecting—you know, after all the things I’ve heard about Elise.” She shook some salt onto her eggs. “They were friendly, intelligent, caring, well-mannered . . . If they’d been stunningly good-looking, they could have been us.”
Dad considered this for a moment. “Well, I guess teenagers rebel even in the best of families.”
Then in unison their gazes both fixed on me.
I nearly choked on my scrambled eggs. “What?” I asked.
“Don’t ever do that to us,” Mom said.
Dad nodded.
“You don’t need to worry,” I said, sipping my orange juice. “I don’t plan on vandalizing my school.”
Mom picked up her toast but didn’t take a bite. “The drinking is what I worry about. Girls get taken advantage of when they’re drunk. If anyone even offers you alcohol, just walk away. Don’t even discuss it.”
“I will,” I assured them firmly. But it didn’t matter what I said. I suppose the years of parenting had predisposed them to lecturing, and they couldn’t help themselves. For the rest of breakfast, I got the full discourse on the traps and pitfalls of teenage life.
Chapter 7
On Friday, Elise stayed after school and went to chess club with me. Throughout the day, she had insisted the fact that chess club was held on Friday was a clear sign that none of the people in it had social lives; but despite all that, she had fun. She had printed out tiny pictures of Carter and Bella and taped them to her opponent’s king and queen. “It’s to give me incentive to win,” she said.
She won one game and lost another, but the one she lost was to Bob Matthews, and he almost always won. I’d never beaten him.
Afterward, while my mom drove us home, I said, “See, didn’t you have fun?”
Elise leaned back into her seat. “It has obviously been so long since you had fun that you’ve forgotten what it’s like.”
“We can play tennis tomorrow,” I told her and then quickly added, “at the high school courts.” Just in case she was still harboring thoughts of being Bambi and Trixie up on campus.
Elise sighed, but in the end she agreed.
We weren’t the only ones at the high school Saturday morning. A couple of tennis courts were taken and a few students were using the track. Elise checked around for cute guys, but finding no one she deemed interesting, she concentrated on the game. I wasn’t much of a challenge for her. She had neglected to tell me she was skilled at the sport. She was one of those people who could place the ball anywhere. I spent my time sprinting around the court and considered myself lucky if I hit the ball back over the net. After she humiliated me in the first set, I insisted that we not keep score and that she return all my balls whether they were in or not. It made it a fairer game.
For the next half an hour I ran back and forth across the court while Elise coolly returned balls. Then she said, “Let’s take a break and get a drink.”
“What do you need water for?” I panted. “You haven’t even broken a sweat.”
With a wicked grin, Elise nodded toward the school. That’s when I saw the guys. Chad and Mike were about to use the track. They were warming up by the drinking fountain.
“I’m suddenly thirsty,” I said. “And my water bottle is empty.”
“Mine too,” Elise said, and we headed toward the drinking fountains.
We were halfway there before I realized I was not only thirsty but also hot, sweaty, and bedraggled. I pushed loose strands of hair back into my ponytail and hoped I looked sporty.
Chad and Mike lay on the ground, each with one leg bent and one leg straight, stretching out. I had no idea how to start a conversation with them. I racked my brain for something to say, but the only thing that came to mind was Hi, remember me? We talked about the school stew once. I got a drink from the fountain and hoped for inspiration.