Ashlyn grinned at her. “Who would help me fill in the voices if you’re not here to help?”
“See, that’s not shallow, though. That’s just good, wholesome entertainment.” Summer took a swig of her soda. “You get me, Ash. Not a lot of people do, but you and I are like…” Summer made the eye-to-eye signal.
“We’re like ninjas,” Ashlyn said, holding her hands up in her best ninja stance.
“Right.” Summer laughed. “Exactly like ninjas.”
Ashlyn grabbed her Diet Coke off the dresser and popped it open. “I can’t believe we’ve only been hanging out for like, what is it? A little over a month now?”
“Sounds about right.” Summer knew all too well how much time had passed. Too much time. Weeks without making any progress.
“It seems like forever. In a good way. I missed you like crazy those few days when…Well, all that stupid stuff happened that I don’t want to think about.”
“Aw, I missed you like crazy, too.” Unexpected tears formed in Summer’s eyes, and she quickly blinked them away, hoping Ashlyn didn’t see them. “It pisses me off to think of all those months we spent not being friends. All that wasted time.”
Ashlyn held up her can. “A toast. To not wasting any more time and making sure our last year of high school rocks.”
Summer clanged her can against Ashlyn’s, unable to say anything for fear her shaky voice would give away the intense sadness that had settled over her. Now she needed a new plan. Judging from the horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach, it needed to be sooner rather than later.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
When Summer awoke, a pounding headache accompanied the churning in her stomach. She’d fallen asleep fully dressed, without dinner—she barely remembered coming home yesterday. She’d felt ill the entire drive from Ashlyn’s, her mind spinning to come up with a new plan, and fast.
Groaning, she sat up and looked around. I wonder how Ashlyn’s date went last night. Her cell wasn’t on her dresser or her nightstand. It wasn’t in her pocket either. Must still be in my car.
She stood and stretched her arms over her head. “Whoa,” she said when her reflection greeted her. Her curls were out of control, her eye makeup smudged. She wiped off all the leftover mascara she could without help of soap and water and slipped on her flip flops.
Dad came out of his room as Summer entered the hall. “You seemed pretty out of it last night when I got home. You okay?”
Summer covered a yawn with her hand. “Uh-huh. Just catching up on all the sleep I’ve missed lately, I guess.”
“Tiffany’s coming over in a few minutes. I’d appreciate it if you at least spent some time with us before running off.”
“I was planning on heading to Ashlyn’s.”
Dad’s shoulders slumped, giving him that whole deflated look. She didn’t have a lot of time, but she supposed she shouldn’t push away her family while trying to fix someone else’s. “But not till later,” she said. “So I can spend a few hours with you and. . . Tiffany.”
“How ‘bout I take us all out to a nice Sunday brunch, then?”
“As long as you’re not cooking, I’m down for whatever.”
Dad mocked hurt. “Hey.”
“I love you and all, but man, you’re an awful cook.” She gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder and then jerked her thumb toward the stairs. “I left my phone in my car. I’m gonna go check the messages, and then I’ll come back in and get ready.”
The awful churning in her stomach got worse as Summer headed downstairs. It’d bothered her ever since Gabriella showed up, but this was different—a twisting torture she felt nothing would fix except figuring out a way for Ashlyn and Pamela to get past their issues.
Chilly morning air greeted her as she opened the door. Whoa, I need a jacket before facing that. Her blue hooded sweatshirt sat crumpled in a ball next to the door. It was something Mom would’ve hated but Dad never commented on. In fact, his jacket was there, as well.
Summer tugged the hoodie over her head and zipped it up. Armed for the chill, she opened the door and crossed the lawn. She came around the driver’s side of her car and stopped dead in her tracks. The front tire was completely flat. “Ugh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
Not wanting to deal with it right now, she reached inside her car and grabbed her phone. There was a missed call from Troy—curious—and a text from Ashlyn.
Had a good time. Tell you all about it tomorrow.
It was a little early yet, so Summer figured she’d wait to text Ash back. She closed her door and squatted to examine her tire. She was running her hand over the rubber when she heard Tiffany’s car pull up. Without at least a shower first, she wasn’t near cheery enough to greet her, so she stayed down, waiting for her to go inside.
“Need some help, Sunshine?”
She jumped, the motion nearly toppling her backward onto her butt. “Holy crap, you scared me,” she said, trying to get her racing pulse back under control. She slowly stood to face him. Then, remembering her ragged appearance, she ran a hand down her hair.
“Sorry,” Troy said. “I thought you heard me.”
“I thought you were Tiffany.”
“I get that a lot,” Troy said, flashing her that killer smile of his.
It was bad enough that things with him had gone downhill. Even more frustrating that his smile still sent butterflies swirling through her stomach. But did she have to look like a complete mess when he came over, too? “What are you doing at my house so early? It’s the weekend. You’re supposed to be in bed.”
“That means you are, too.”
“I went to bed early last night. Yeah, my Saturday night was that exciting.”
Troy leaned against her car, crossing one ankle over the other. “I tried to call you.”
“I left my phone in my car last night. I was expecting a call from Ashlyn, so I came out to get it, and then I saw my tire was flat.”
Troy held out his hand. “Give me your keys. I’ll help you change it.”
The keys clanged together as she handed them over. “Careful. I’d hate for you to accidentally spray yourself in the face with my mace.”
“Somehow, I doubt that. You’d probably find it amusing.”
It was impossible not to smile at that. “Maybe a little.” Summer followed him to the trunk, trying to not think about how horrible she looked. I bet none of his other girlfriends ever look like this. Of course, I’m just his friend.
Troy popped the trunk, uncovered the spare, and handed her the jack.
“So, why’d you call, anyway?” Summer asked.
Troy heaved the tire out of the trunk, the muscles in his arms flexing with the effort. “I wanted you to see a show.”
Summer followed him as he rolled the tire to the front of the car. “Some new obscure band?”
“Yep.” Troy set the tire down and held his hand out. “Jack, please.”
Summer handed it over. “What are they called? Maybe I’ll impress you with my knowledge of them.”
“I doubt it. Last night was their first show. They’re called Pieces of Flair.”
“Sounds cool. What do they play?”
Troy twisted the handle on the jack, lifting her car off the ground with each rotation. “A few covers, a few original.” He glanced up at her and said, “I hear the drummer’s cute, and I know that’s important to you.”
She tried to make out his expression, the way the corner of his mouth was twisted up. “Is that a jab at me? I’m not really sure what we’re talking about anymore.”
“It’s the band I’m in.”
“You’re in a band? I knew about the drums, I just—Oh, I get the drummer comment now.” Honestly, she’d always crushed on drummers. Lead singers, guitar players—they were all good—but there was something about a cute drummer.