How My Summer Went Up in Flames (4 page)

“Joey gets on my nerves,” Lilliana blurts out before
recovering her “happy face” and attempting to put a positive spin on my trip. “Maybe you’ll finally go horseback riding. You’ve always wanted to do that,” she says. “Or use the time away to get your head together. Bring a notebook. Write down your thoughts.”

Thoughts? Where is this coming from? I’m not one for extracurricular thinking. Neither is she. At least I read romance novels; Lilliana’s reading is restricted to whatever can be viewed on her phone.

“I’m more of an action person,” I say. “I need to stay here and straighten things out with Joey.”

“That’s what you think you need. But let’s put your effed-up feelings about Joey aside. Aren’t you forgetting the bigger issue here?”

“Please don’t remind me about the thing.”

“Temporary restraining order? I’m just sayin’. You’ll go crazy sitting around waiting for your court date. Remember what your attorney told your parents?”

“The farther away the better,” I mumble. Actually his exacts words were “out-of-state equals good.”

The lawyer’s right. Lilliana’s right. Everyone’s right. And I’m cranky. I need a pick-me-up.

“Let’s go to the pet store.”

Just Pets sells just that. Hamsters, fish, geckos, birds—small critters. But they also have dog and puppy adoptions, so I stop by whenever I’m at the mall. I’d love a second dog, but I wouldn’t want to upset Pony. He thinks he’s my baby. Anyway, I’m in no position to be asking for anything right now.

Just Pets has an adorable fox terrier mix available for adoption. He’s got a mostly white face with a black and brown patch over one eye. I want so badly to hold him for a few minutes, but I can’t get his hopes up only to send him back. Even at a distance he’s got me grinning like a fool and Lilliana has to drag me away from his crate.

“I’m getting hungry,” Lilliana whines. “Let’s get some shopping done before lunch.”

“Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

“What are we looking for exactly?” Lilliana asks as we walk toward Nordstrom’s.

“Anything that will look cute after sitting in a car for hours.”

“Wrinkle free. Check,” Lilliana says.

“And light,” I say. “Do you know Arizona is, like, a hundred and seven degrees this time of year? Literally. Is that crazy or what?”

“Your parents are sending you to hell. Hell with no ocean.” Lilliana then seems to remember she’s been trying to make me feel better about this road trip and attempts to smooth over her snarkiness. “But you’ll probably get to see the Grand Canyon, right? Or will you? Where exactly are you going, anyway?”

I look at Lilliana and raise my eyebrows. The deeper meaning is not lost on me. On a more literal level, I know where we start and where we finish, but what about that whole middle part? It dawns on me that I have no idea. I’m still in denial that this is happening. I meant to read Matty’s updated itinerary, but every time I think about it, it just makes me tired.

 • • •

The shopping trip is going well; I buy some really cute shorts, tank tops, and sandals. Clothes and accessories make me feel better. I maximize my dollars by picking items that can be mixed and matched easily.

We’re about to stop for lunch in the food court when we see him. He’s holding hands with that bleached-out thing he calls a girlfriend, and they’re standing in line at the new juice bar. Lilliana stops mid-sentence and follows my gaze.

“Rosie,” she says, clutching my right arm with both
her hands. I’m not sure if she’s steadying me or holding me back.

Joey doesn’t see me, but the ho does, and when our eyes meet, she gives me this smirk and kisses him right on the lips—for a while. Oh really now? She must mistake me for someone with patience. She shoots me another look, prompting Joey to turn in my direction. Our eyes lock and I hate myself, but I get that hopeful flutter in my chest. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, then puts his arm around Blondie and drags her away.

“How many feet are between me and that a-hole right now?” I ask. I move to follow them, but Lilliana digs her nails into my arm. In that moment, I am so freaking glad I blew up his car that if I hadn’t already done it, I’d be in his driveway with a gas can and a lighter.

“Come on,” Lilliana says, and steers me toward the exit. “We’re out of here.”

Neither of us speaks until we get to the car. I sit in the passenger seat, my heart pumping like a double-kick drum. My skin feels hot. The rapid rise and fall of emotions makes me dizzy. I go from anger to sadness to resignation. My parents and Matty are right. I can’t risk seeing him again before my court date.

“Are you okay?” Lilliana finally asks.

I take a deep breath and wait for my pulse to slow down. My new role as Joey’s crazy ex-girlfriend is anxiety inducing, depressing, and exhausting.

“I’m not sure if I’m okay, but I will be.” I find a good song on the radio and turn it all the way up. “I’m leaving for Arizona in three days and I cannot wait.”

Maybe saying it out loud will convince me it’s true.

On Saturday morning, I follow Matty and Eddie
onto the front porch and into the predawn darkness. I’m feeling extra groggy because I had a hard time getting to sleep and wound up taking two teaspoons of Benadryl around two in the morning. It should have knocked me out, but instead I tossed and turned like I had a fever. I even dreamed I wandered around the house looking for my phone and sent Joey a message telling him to meet me in Phoenix on the Fourth of July. Thankfully, when I woke up, my phone was nowhere in sight. My parents probably have it in a lockbox somewhere until it’s time to transfer it to Matty. It felt so real, though. Craziness.

I walk down the steps and cross the lawn. The grass is wet with that annoying early-morning dew, which is making
me sorry I wore flip-flops. The cicadas are chirping away and, wait . . . is that an owl? My parents follow us. Dad carries my bags; Mom clutches her coffee mug. She and I share a serious caffeine addiction. This morning, however, my stomach has that sickish first-day-of-school feeling, made worse by my antihistamine hangover. I would have thrown up if I drank or ate anything. Pony was disappointed. He knows I’m the one most likely to share my breakfast with him.

It takes me a second to realize that the burgundy Taurus in Matty’s driveway is my ride. Could there be a less cool vehicle? It screams rental, not road trip. I’m still getting over the lame car when a guy gets out of the front seat and walks toward us in a Snoopy T-shirt that says
PARTY LIKE A ROCK STAR
. Oh, man.

“Hi, I’m Spencer,” he says. No kidding.

Matty’s mom walks toward us with a thin, dark-haired woman who I’m assuming is Spencer and Logan’s mom. I notice a forest-green Jeep at the curb that must belong to her. Now, that’s a road-trip-worthy ride. Spencer shakes everyone’s hand and Mrs. Davidson introduces herself as well. Except for several lengthy phone conversations between my mom and theirs (and probably a background check performed
on the sly by one of my father’s state trooper buddies), this is the first time we’re all meeting. My parents are all smiles. Oh, I can read their minds all right. They’re thinking,
Hallelujah! Rosie is going to Arizona with Matty and a member of the Peanuts gang.
What could possibly go wrong?
But then Logan, the answer to my parents’ silent, rhetorical question, gets out of the car. He’s wearing perfect-fitting jeans and a dark gray V-neck shirt. The short sleeves hug his biceps, which appear perpetually flexed. His torso is twice the size of Spencer’s, and he’s sporting a sexy five o’clock shadow that would take Matty three weeks to grow. I’m suddenly angry at myself for not bothering with mascara and eyeliner and fumble in my bag for my shades, even though the sun has yet to break the horizon. Thankfully, I did my hair. I always do my hair.

“I’m Logan,” he says.
Yes. Yes, you are!
I’m thinking as he shakes everyone’s hand.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of Rosie.” Logan smiles at my parents and then me, and I notice that he’s taller than all of us, even Matty.

It’s like my heart rate and hormones heard the crack of the starting gun, and they’re off!
No, no, no,
I tell them.
You two have gotten me in enough trouble already.
But it feels good to temporarily not have Joey in my head.

I look back toward our front door. Pony is watching me through the glass. He wags his tail wildly and gives me his I-need-some-lovin’ face.

“Eddie, can you let Pony out? I want to say good-bye one more time.”

He grumbles but does it anyway. He’d never admit it, but I know he’s going to miss me. The fact that he’s even awake right now speaks volumes.

As soon as Eddie opens the door, Pony bolts toward me. I think he’s going to jump up on me for one last kiss, but he runs right by and goes to meet Spencer and Logan, twirling his tail like a baton. I should have known. He loves to greet new people, and it’s not like he understands he won’t be seeing me for a while. I try not to be jealous when Logan crouches down to pet him and Pony practically sits in his lap.

“Come ’ere, boy,” I say. He obeys, and when I bend down to give him a squeeze, my chest tightens. “Make sure Eddie remembers to take you on long walks.” I turn toward Eddie. “He likes to visit his pal, Suzie. She lives on Cook Road.”

I give Dad a kiss on the cheek and he puts his arm around my shoulders for a sideways squeeze. He hands Matty my phone, the sight of which makes my heart double pump as I remember my texting dream. It was a dream, wasn’t it?

Mom puts her empty mug down on the steps and envelops me in a big, squishy embrace. No matter how old I am, I never get tired of Mom’s hugs, especially ones that leave my shirt with the lingering scent of her Estée Lauder moisturizer.

“Be good. Have fun,” she says. I know without looking that she has tears in her eyes. My throat constricts.

“I will, Mom.” I want it to be the truth. If not for myself, then at least for her and Dad.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom.”

“Call us later today,” Dad says.

Matty carries my bags to the car and Eddie follows. While Matty loads my stuff in the trunk, Eddie opens the door for me. Before I get in, he gives me a lightning-fast hug and whispers in my ear, “Be safe. Try not to kiss anyone.”

I decide to do him a solid. “FYI. Your phone has a GPS,” I whisper back. “Don’t tell the parents I told you.”

Eddie nods slowly as the information seeps in, and then he’s gone. Logan and Spencer are already in the front seat. I’m about to sit down when I notice that Matty and I will be traveling with an acoustic guitar between us.

“Can’t we put this in the trunk?” I ask.

“Logan says it takes up too much room,” Spencer explains.

“So what? We can’t crowd the luggage, but it’s okay to crowd humans?” I ask.

My backpack is bulging with all my important stuff (e.g., credit card for emergencies, makeup, round brush,
CosmoGirl
, romance novel, Cheez-Its, and tunes) and I was hoping for more space back here.

“Just shut the door,” mumbles Matty.

“Matty, can I see my phone for a sec?”

“We’re still in the driveway.”

“I know. Real quick. Please?” I need to put my fears to rest.

“Here.” He slips it to me like it’s some illicit substance.

Quickly, I page to my text messages and make sure there are none from last night. Phew. Nothing to Joey about the Fourth of July or anything else. I toss the phone back to Matty.

I wave to my family and the boys wave to their moms. As we pull out of the driveway, I’m surprised by how choked up I get. I’ve never been away from home before. I mean, sure, I’ve slept over at friends’ houses and at my grandparents’, and I’ve gone down the shore to Lilliana’s family beach house, but never this far and with people I just met. My eyes fill with tears. Who gets homesick before
they even leave their block? I don’t have much time to dwell on this, because as soon as we turn the corner and my house is out of sight, Logan starts laying down ground rules.

“Just so you know, you’re not getting any special treatment. We’re going to say and do what we want, no apologies for guy behavior,” Logan says.

“Fine,” I tell Logan as I dig through my bag for a tissue to wipe dried grass clippings off my toes. Stupid dew. “If that includes noxious emissions, open a window. Even my little brother has the decency to do that.”

“Only if we feel like it,” Spencer pipes up.

Whoa, look at Snoopy growing a set of you-know-whats over there.

“Oh, yeah, and you’re on our schedule,” Logan continues. “No extra time for whatever girl things you’ve got going on. If you’re not in the car when it’s time to leave, we’ll go without you.”

“No, we won’t,” Matty says.

“No?” Logan looks at us in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised. “Watch me.”

“Watch me,” I mimic. Mr. Tough Guy in a Taurus. My heart rate and hormones stop so fast they kick up a cloud of dust. He’s one of those people who announces that he’s
“type A” as if it gives him permission to call the shots. I’m gonna wind up telling him what that “A” stands for before this trip is over. I can tell.

“That reminds me,” Spencer says. “Here’s your copy of the itinerary. It will help you stay on schedule.” Another one? He hands me a double-pocket folder. Is he serious? There are maps on one side and at least ten typed pages of information on the other. He also has a contact list with all our cell phone numbers. Like we’re going to get separated? I can see why he and Matty are such good friends—they’re like obsessive-compulsive AAA buddies. I’m too tired to read this right now. Logan is fiddling with the radio and lands on a station that’s playing country music. Nooo! Who knew we even had a country music station in the Tri-State Area?

“I don’t suppose I get a vote about music,” I say.

“Now you’re catching on,” Logan says.

I want to smack the smirk off that gorgeous face. Instead, I get my own tunes out of my backpack, put on my headphones, and close my eyes. It’s my road trip too, and Springsteen is in order. Even though he’s not who my friends listen to, I feel a special connection to him—even beyond the whole New Jersey thing—because my parents named me after one of his songs.