Chance Of Rain (12 page)

Trent reached around me and set down two sodas and a glass of water. “No spills,” he said proudly. “Pretty talented, huh?”

“Thanks.” I took a gulp of water. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was. “You don’t happen to know my dad, Mark Devoe, do you?”
So much for not saying anything
.

I don’t know if it was because I was looking for it, but I thought I saw a subtle change in his expression. He took a sip and placed his glass on the small table. “Why would you ask me that?” he said, puzzled.

“You answered my question with a question.”

“Sorry, but this is sorta random,” he said apologetically.

Uh-oh. He’s right. I feel stupid
.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s just that while you were gone your phone went off. It was so loud that I picked it up to make it stop. I promise I wasn’t being nosy. Anyway, I know it sounds crazy, but I could have sworn it was my dad’s voice on the other end of the line.”
Oh…that does sound crazy now that I’ve said it out loud. I should’ve stuck with the original plan
.

“I don’t think you’re crazy.” He gave me an understanding smile.

Just then Angel passed us on his way to the bar.

“I didn’t steal you away from your dance partner, did I? Trent asked me.

I feigned a guilty smile.

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Devoe.”

Trent went to the restroom as I made my way to Bri.

Lindsey and Blake approached me a second later. “So I see you were able to make it after all,” said Blake.

“Yeah…I got finished early.” I smiled and quickly changed the subject.

I looked at Lindsey, who clearly was trying her best to ignore me, and said the first thing that came to mind. “I like your hair. It looks really pretty.”
There—maybe now she’ll like me
.

She usually wore her hair down at work, but tonight she had it twisted and pulled back, away from her face with rhinestone clips. It really did look nice.

She smiled. “Thanks!”
Bingo! It worked!

Just then someone pulled me away by the arm. I tried to stop Jason from leading me to the dance floor. He was having fun, but he was being rough and hurting my arm.

“Jason.” No response. “Jason!” He finally stopped.

“Sorry. I’m waiting on someone,” I said.

He pulled me close, and laughing, he said, “Rude much, Ashley?”

I tried to push away.

“Aw, come on. One little dance.”

He reeked of beer.

“You’re drunk, Jason. You can barely stand much less dance.”

He got in my face and whispered, “I’ll
lean
on you.”

“I don’t think so.” I tried to smile, but he was really annoying me. When I turned to go, he grabbed my wrist and jerked my arm. I looked at him with surprise. “Jason, that’s not funny!” He wasn’t smiling anymore, though.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Trent. His mouth was tight, his jaw clenched. He didn’t say a word. He looked at Jason then down at Jason’s hand, which was still latched around my wrist. Jason immediately released it.

“I was just playing around, man. No hard feelings,” he told Trent. Then he looked at me. “Right, Ash?”

“Right,” I said flatly.

Jason left, and Trent looked down at me. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes.” He smiled and gave me a quick hug. “I know you need to get home soon, but can I get one last dance?”

We walked back to
our
corner and held on to each other for two glorious minutes.

Trent walked me to my car. “Don’t leave just yet. I want to follow you and make sure you get home, OK?”

He’s sooo sweet!
I nodded. He stood there watching as I got into my car. I rolled down my window and closed the door. “Thanks for helping me back there,” I told him.

He leaned down so that he was level with my window and looked me in the eye. “Thank
you
for saving me the last dance.” He reached in and took my hand from the steering wheel and drew it to his mouth. He gently pressed it to his warm, soft lips.

My stomach felt like it did when I first rode the Tower of Terror—but in a good way.

XIV

80 %

I
absolutely loved Saturdays. I slept in then fiddled with my weather station on the patio for a while. It tells me things like the temperature, humidity, atmospheric pressure, the wind speed and direction. It’s really cool…when it’s working. It was on the fritz again. The screen was so covered in funk that it was getting hard to read anyway. Maybe that’s what I’d tell Trent I wanted for my birthday. Nothing says “romance” like a weather station.

Later I headed to Bri’s. We had plans to do some booty blasting. And then, knowing Bri, we’d probably go out afterward for doughnuts.

Bri opened the door before I walked up. She was wearing a bright-orange spandex body suit, and her hair was pulled back. She was also donning rainbow leg warmers and a matching headband. She looked content as she sucked on the long straw of a very large strawberry-banana smoothie. Bri was so crazy that she made me feel sane. She did it on purpose to make me feel better, because she was that kind of friend.

“Wow!” I said, as I looked her up and down. I waved my cell at her. “Hey, the eighties called, and they want their crappy clothes back.”

“Hardy-har-har, Devoe.” She stepped back and let me enter. “My mom’s meeting Sugar Daddy for breakfast, so we can blast our boo-tays freely in the den.”

Being friends with other girls was too much work. I know; I tried. My friendship with Bri, however, was effortless. All I had to do was show up.

As I followed her into the den, I recalled a memory from my pre-Bri era. It was when I’d tried to be besties with Megan Jones. Talk about high maintenance. I feel sorry for the future Mr. Megan.

One time that witch Lacey smeared chocolate pudding on my seat at the lunch table. Of course, as planned, I didn’t see it and sat down. I was so humiliated! The very next day, I saw Megan talking to Lacey like they were best buddies. When I questioned Megan about it, she was, like, “What’s the big deal? Lacey has never done anything to me.” I felt so betrayed. Bri never would have done something like that. She was more loyal than a St. Bernard. Her motto was “You mess with Ashley, you mess with me!” I felt the same way about her.

“So how on earth did you afford the Booty Blaster workout? Was it J.T.?” I asked.

“Nope. But with the raise he gave my mom,
she
could afford it. He got a
big
contract with the county to add some pavilions, a new arena, and some warehouses and things like that to the fairgrounds. She did buy me the new wardrobe she promised, though!”

“For real?”

“Yeah, we ordered everything online. I should start receiving stuff any day now.”

Bri turned on the TV and DVR. “This didn’t cost me a dime.” She clicked the remote and navigated through the menu until she reached “Recordings.” “Here we go,” she said. “Get ready.”

I doubled over in laughter when I realized what she had done. “You recorded the infomercial for Booty Blaster?”

“Yep. Pretty smart, huh?” she said smugly.

I could tell she was pleased with herself. “They show all the best moves right here. We’ll just repeat them over and over for the next half hour or so.”

I had to admit, Bri was brilliant. We had a fantastic workout, and it didn’t cost us a cent.

I was glad to get home so I could shower and rest.

I saw a note from my mom on the counter. She was showing houses all day. I looked in the freezer and saw we had some hamburger meat. Then I looked in
the pantry and found a jar of spaghetti sauce and a box of noodles. I decided to call her and find out when she’d be home so I could have dinner ready when she arrived.

I picked up the phone and dialed. A few seconds later, I heard ringing through the phone, but I also heard ringing from somewhere in the house. I walked around until I found it. My mom had left her personnel cell next to her alarm clock on her nightstand.
Seriously, Mom? Why can’t you use just one phone like the rest of us?

I picked it up and noticed she had other missed calls. I scanned through her phone and stopped when something caught my eye.

I quickly ran to retrieve my cell. I scrolled through until I found what I was looking for. My mom had the same number in her phone that I’d copied the other night from Trent’s!

WTH?
I felt a little dizzy. I sat down on the cedar chest at the foot of her bed.
That had to have been my dad. I’m not crazy after all
.

I scanned through her phone some more. It was a good thing I was already sitting down. Because I discovered she had Trent’s number in there as well!

I wasn’t sure what any of this meant. And I definitely didn’t know what to do next. I sat there for a while, thinking about everything, and then it hit me. Bri would know what to do.

I put my mom’s phone back where I had found it. Then I went to my room and texted Bri.

Need to talk! Lunch?

She must have had her phone in her hand.

I can be ready in 10
.

That’s my Bri, always there for me. I showered and dressed and flew out the door.

Honk! Honk!

“Is something wrong?” Bri asked the second she got in.

I drove slowly so I could think. I told her about my spying on my dad and discovering he was having a secret
affair…
with my mom.

“No way! I’m so glad I wasn’t there for that!”

I told her that I thought I’d heard my dad’s voice when I answered Trent’s phone and that I saw the same number on my mom’s cell only a few minutes ago.

I could tell she was thinking, because she wasn’t saying a word. “Then what?” she asked eagerly.

I told her how, even though I’d never called Trent, his number was in my phone from when he called me. “And?” she encouraged.

“I just found Trent’s number in my mom’s phone!”

“What? Why would she have Trent’s number? How did she get it? And why would your dad be calling Trent? He hardly speaks to
you
!”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know what to do. That’s why I’m telling you. What do you think? Wait…Hold that thought. We’re here.”

I put on my blinker, and we coasted into the parking lot of the Gnarled Oak.

“Hope you’re hungry,” I said.

Bri looked at me funny. “Sista, please.”

I laughed. But then I stopped suddenly. “Bri, look!”

She turned. “What am I looking at?”

“That’s Trent’s car,” I pointed at a black Challenger. And then I pointed at a silver F-350, “And
that’s
Chase’s truck!”

She gasped. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Do you think they’re here together?”

“I don’t know why they would be, but everyone else in your life seems to be connected somehow. There’s only one way to find out.” She looked at me. “Let’s go!” I pulled around back and found a parking spot that was somewhat hidden.

“We need to be discreet,” I instructed. “If they don’t see us, and they
are
together, maybe we can overhear their conversation.”

We got very quiet. I was so nervous that my knees were trying to knock. I had no idea what I was about to find behind the door of the Gnarled Oak.

A tiny, energetic hostess with sleek, black hair pulled back in a knot stood at the podium. “Thanks for joining us for lunch. Table for two?” she said with a smile. Her eyes were blue and lined in black to match her hair.

I froze. I wasn’t sure what we wanted. Luckily Bri was one step ahead of me. She already had scanned the room. “We’ll take a booth, if you don’t mind…” She smiled. “…in the back.”

“Not at all. This way please.” She picked up two menus and walked us to a booth against the far wall. It was dark in there even during the day, which worked to our advantage. They kept the shutters closed and the lights dim.

The Gnarled Oak had a cozy feel. The floors were made of a glossy dark-stained oak, and the walls were covered in warm burgundy paint. The drapes that flanked the shutters were thick like the table linens and covered in rich complicated patterns. The ceiling was tall, and beautiful oak beams ran across it. Ornate tapestries hung on the walls. I hadn’t noticed all these details the first time I’d visited. I was too entranced by Trent.