“With the new girl. Beth. Bad breath? Can’t stop clearing her throat? Drools when she kisses?” “Nah, she’s good. “
“Come on,” she says playfully. “It’s always something. You can tell me. “
“It’s weird, Grade. “His voice isn’t playful at all. “It’s not like that. She’s… different. “
“Oh, I get it. “ Harper squeezes her arm around his waist. “You’re still in that nauseating ‘everything is wonderful’ stage. Ah, young lust. So romantic. “
“No. “ He stops walking and drops his arm away from her shoulder. “It really is different this time. It’s… she’s…”He holds his hands out to his sides. She can’t see his face in the dark. “I can’t explain. There’s just something about her. “
“I understand, Ad. “ And she does. She throws her arms around him and hugs him tightly. “I’m really happy for you.” And she wants to mean it. She knows she should mean it, but as she holds him, her face burrowed into his shoulder, breathing in the familiar mix of fabric softener and a woodsy aftershave, she realizes something important. And then she squeezes tighter. She doesn’t want to let go, because when she does, everything will change.
Harper turned out the light and curled up into a ball, trying to sleep. Her leg throbbed and her back ached, and the T-shirt felt uncomfortably tight around her collar. It kept getting caught beneath her weight as she rolled to one side, then the other. It was tugging at her and choking her, keeping her from sinking into sleep. Eventually she wriggled out of it and tossed it to the floor. It didn’t even smell like him anymore.
Chapter 8
“Tell me you’re free tonight.”
“Uh… what? Who is this?” But Miranda knew who it was. She would have recognized the voice even if she hadn’t recognized the number (which she’d memorized back in ninth grade).
“I’m bored,” Kane said, affecting a little kid voice. “Come play with me?”
Her chest tightened, and a warm glow spread through her cheeks. Not a date, she reminded herself. But the caution had little effect. He wanted to see her; that had to mean something.
“It’s kind of short notice,” she pointed out, toying with him. “A true lady wouldn’t accept an offer made in such haste.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not-”
“Don’t even say it,” she warned. This whole banter thing was so much easier when he wasn’t there to see the crimson flush rising in her cheeks. She could put her hand over the mouthpiece whenever she needed to mask her giggles and gasps. It was easy to sound cool and unconcerned.
He laughed-a rich, warm sound made all the sexier by the knowledge that she’d caused it.
“There’s this thing, kind of a pre-party, and it’ll probably be lame, but I thought I’d check it out,” he explained.
“Pre-party? So I’m not good enough to take to the actual party?” She sounded sarcastic, but couldn’t help but fear it was true.
“Insecurity doesn’t suit you, my dear. The actual party’s tomorrow night-this is just a little warm-up.”
“Why not?” She tried not to sound too eager.
“Cool. You think you can give me a ride? I figure, in case I get wasted…”
Well, that solved the mystery. He just needed a designated driver; it’s not that he thought he’d have fun with her, it’s that he knew she could be trusted not to have any fun. She pressed her palm against the mouthpiece and sighed. It didn’t matter why he had called. She would go, anyway, just as she would spend the next half hour tormenting herself about what to wear, even though she’d already convinced herself that he didn’t want anything from her beyond the occasional ride and no-strings-attached hookup. There was always a chance, and even an eternal pessimist like Miranda couldn’t help but cling to that.
Adam brought her to The Whole Enchilada, her favorite restaurant-as Kaia had often pointed out, there was no good food in Grace, but the local Mexican food came the closest. Harper hadn’t wanted to admit that she was addicted to their guacamole (”could be fresher,” according to Kaia) and loved their burritos (”overstuffed”), but both girls agreed that the stale chips and crappy salsa-half as spicy and twice as watery as you’d want-were worth suffering through for the oversize frozen margaritas. They were frothy and sweet, with a double shot of tequila-and served by waiters who could be counted on not to card.
Tonight, Harper sipped a Coke.
She hadn’t said much after hello, nor had she bothered to listen as Adam babbled on about his latest basketball game or some lame joke the guys had pulled on their coach. She’d ordered a chicken enchilada, but when it appeared in front of her, she couldn’t even imagine eating it. She nibbled at the edges, crunched down on a couple chips, and drank a lot of water. It was a waste of a meal, but then, Adam was paying-so who cared?
“You know, my grandfather died when I was a kid,” he said abruptly.
She froze, a forkful of rice halfway to her mouth. She’d been expecting him to bring up Kaia, and she’d readied herself to shoot him down. But she didn’t have a contingency plan for this.
“He was the only grandparent I had,” Adam continued. “My dad’s parents, they kind of… disappeared, or something. Before I was born. And my mom’s mom died when she was a kid. But my grandfather was around for a while, and when he died, you know, it was really sudden. It sucked.”
Harper felt like she was supposed to say something. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t, uh, I didn’t really get it, at first. I was just a kid. I kept asking my mom why we didn’t go over to see him anymore, and then she’d just start freaking out and crying. So then after a while, I just stopped asking.” He gave her a weird look, half determined and half scared. Harper wondered what he expected now: Did he think that just mentioning someone dying was going to make her cry, and then he’d have to mop up the mess? “I know it’s not the same, or anything…”
“No,” she agreed.
“The worst part was that I was all alone with it, you know? So I just thought, maybe…”
She gave him a faint “Where are you going with this?” smile. She wasn’t going to make it easier on him.
Adam squirmed in his seat. Touchy-feely stuff wasn’t really his style. “You can talk to me. About how you’re feeling. About… anything.”
He wanted to know how she was feeling.
She felt numb.
She felt hollow, like a black hole at her center had sucked away her insides, only no one could tell because the outer shell was still intact.
She felt angry all the time, at Adam, at her parents, at the world, at herself. And she didn’t know why.
Her thoughts were jumpy and sluggish at the same time, skipping from subject to subject only because by the time she got to the middle of a thought, she forgot where she’d started or where she was going. So she felt lost.
She felt like crying every time she laughed, and she rarely felt much like laughing.
She felt heavy.
She felt unworthy
She felt like if someone touched her in the right way, she might disintegrate.
She could turn off the tears and paint on a smile whenever she needed to, which made her wonder if the tears weren’t real either. She felt like a fraud.
But she wasn’t about to tell him any of that.
“I feel fine,” she said coolly. She pushed her plate toward his side of the table. “Want to try some? I’m done.”
“BETH!”
“We’re BOOOOOOOOOOORED!”
“I’ll be down in a minute!” she yelled, gulping down a couple Advil tablets. It was nice that her parents got to spend a romantic evening out on the town while she took care of the twins, she knew-and it wasn’t like she could have turned them down, given the fact that she had no other plans-but handling the twins’ hyperactive sugar craze was about the last thing she needed right now.