How (Not) to Fall in Love (11 page)

Chapter Fourteen

October 28

“W
e have to move,” I told Sal over cold French fries in the cafeteria. “I’ve been trying to think of a way around it, but I’m stumped. I don’t know where we’ll go. Or what we’ll do with all our stuff.”

Sal blinked worried eyes at me. “What about those big storage lockers? You could rent a few of those.”

I shook my head. “Those cost money. Lots of money.”

“Oh.” She dipped a French fry in ketchup, then left it on the plate. “Maybe you could have a sale?”

“A garage sale? Sell Mom’s antiques for pennies on the dollar?”

“No,” said Sal, “a what-do-you-call-them. An estate sale.”

Wait… That was actually a good idea. I’d seen those signs in our neighborhood, like a rich person’s alternative to a garage sale. We had expensive stuff. Maybe if we could get some decent money for it, that would tide us over until Mom could get a better job and get out of Fake-Bake Pam’s clutches. I whipped out my phone and texted Charlie.
“R U around today? 4:00?”
I was due at Liz’s at four thirty.

His reply pinged within seconds.
“Of course. C U then.”

Sal watched me closely. “Who was that?”

“My uncle. He’ll know the names of estate sale companies.”

Sal raised her eyebrows. “Do you think your mom is willing to part with all her stuff?”

I hugged myself, feeling suddenly chilled even though I wore a bulky sweater and jeans.

“She doesn’t have much choice. We can’t afford to store it. And we have to move by the end of the month.”

Sal shook her head. “You continue to amaze me, girlfriend. Darcy to the rescue.”

I frowned at her. “Somebody has to. Dad’s gone. Mom’s a wreck.” I shrugged and tried to smile.

She sighed. “Too bad there’s nobody around to rescue you. Somebody with a big heart and a hot body.”

“Please.” I rolled my eyes. “That only happens in romance books, or movies.”

“Speaking of…” She waggled her eyebrows. “What about that Lucas guy? You haven’t mentioned him lately.”

I snorted. “Where do I start? One: he is totally out of my league. Seriously, you have to meet him sometime and then you’ll see what I mean. Besides, I told you, we’re just friends. We spend most of our time joking around with each other.” I paused to steal one of her fries, ignoring her doubtful look.

“Two,” I continued, “he has a girlfriend who looks like a supermodel. Three: I have way too much stuff going on in my life to even think about getting involved with anyone.”

“Joking around, huh?” A tiny smile curved her purple-glossed lips. “In the movies, friendship leads to romance all the time.”

I snorted. “My life is not that kind of movie.” I stole another fry and pointed it at her. “Trust me. It’s better this way. I’ve gotten used to just hanging out with him. He makes me laugh. And sometimes when I’m with him, I even forget about everything else that’s going on.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “I rest my case.”

“Sal, you aren’t listening to me.”

“Au contraire, my friend. I am listening to your voice and watching your face. And getting two very different messages.”

I shoved away the plate in frustration. “Salena. Listen to me. When I’m working at Liz’s, or hanging out with my uncle and Lucas, it just…just feels better. I can be myself with them. They know all about the Tri!Umphant! Shit Storm and don’t judge me. Or mock me. Or ask prying questions.”

She looked hurt. “Are you saying that I’m prying? That you don’t feel like yourself with me?”

“No, damn it. But you and Mark are the only people at Woodbridge who don’t see me as Loser Repo Girl. I feel like I’m suffocating here. I’m surrounded by people who have no clue what it’s like for me and my mom right now. Everyone is just going about life as usual. Pretty soon they’ll be going skiing every weekend. Hooking up and partying all the time.”

How could I make her understand how different I felt from everyone else? And how normal I felt when I was with Liz and Charlie. And Lucas.

I sighed. Sal probably did see through me when I talked about him; I couldn’t deny the way I felt around him. But all I’d told her was true. Just friends. Goddess girlfriend. Life a disaster zone. I pushed away the memory of the night he’d driven me home. I’d thought I’d felt a spark flicker between us then, but it had to be wishful thinking on my part.

“Look,” I said with an apologetic sigh. “I don’t mean to bite your head off. I need to take Toby for a run, so I can burn off some stress. Trying to figure out what to do is making me nuts.”

She nodded, as subdued as I’d ever seen her. “Just remember I’m always here, right? To talk. Or, you know, take a break and just hang out.” She winked. “Or check out hot guys on Tumblr.”

I shook my head, smiling. “I miss you, too, DQ.” I stood up. “Thanks for the suggestion about the sale. It’s a really good idea.”

She gave me a sad, halfhearted wave as I walked away. I felt unsettled, too. Sal was my only friend left at Woodbridge. I didn’t want to lose her, but all I could think about was the next problem, and the next, and hope that someday things would be normal again. Not like they used to be, but a different type of normal, one where there’d be time for Sal and hanging out. I just hoped she’d still be there for me when that day finally came.

I
called Mom during a free period, shivering on the empty soccer field because I didn’t want anyone to overhear my conversation.

“Mom, I’ve got an idea. A way for us to get money.”

“Money? What are you talking about?”

Her voice sounded slurred. God. It was only one forty-five. On a Tuesday. Working for Pam was a crap job but it wouldn’t last if she kept drinking during the day.

I pushed that worry away and concentrated on the one I could do something about. “We could sell our stuff at an estate sale. Most of it anyway. I bet we’d make a lot of cash.”

Silence.

“Mom?”

Her sigh was long and shaky. “I don’t know, Darcy. That sounds…overwhelming.”

I paced along the edge of the field. “I know, but I’m going to talk to Charlie about it today. Get some names from him. Will you at least think about it?”

She sighed again. “I guess so. But even if we do it, I’m not going to have time to deal with it.”

So it was going to be my problem? How would I pull off an estate sale by myself?

“Mom, I don’t think I can do it alone.” I hesitated. “Will you be home tonight? After I get off work I’ll make dinner. We can talk about it.”

“You don’t have to cook.”

“I know.” But if I didn’t, who would? Besides, I was getting better at it. I’d found an old cookbook in Charlie’s store that didn’t require twenty ingredients for every recipe. I wasn’t a gourmet chef like my mom, but the stuff I made was edible. Usually.

“I’m not sure how late I’ll be working.” Her voice was distant. “And I might just go to bed when I get home.”

I held my breath, anxiety overtaking me again.
Exhale
. “Okay. Can you call me though? Let me know when you’re home.”

“I’ll try to remember.”

How hard was it to remember to call your own daughter? And who was the mom, anyway?

I knew the answer to that, even if it made me sad and anxious. But if I had to be the parent, then okay. I was going to make this happen, because I had no other choice.

C
harlie grinned as he looked up from behind the counter. “So what’s the emergency? Donut deficiency?” He lifted the lid of his donut case and handed me my favorite. He never ran out of pink frosting and sprinkles.

I took a huge bite, then plunked onto a swiveling stool and dropped my messenger bag to the floor. “I wish that’s all I needed.” I brushed crumbs off my shirt. “Mom and I have to move. By the end of the month.”

Charlie’s grin faded. “Oh God, Darcy.” His eyes filled with sympathy and sadness. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s just too much. It’s not fair.”

I frowned. “Honestly, Charlie, I can’t get distracted feeling sorry for myself.” It was true. I’d thought about it on the bus ride. We needed money desperately. I had to do what I could to get Mom to face reality somehow.
You can’t control the storms that tear through your crop,
Dad said.
But it’s up to you what you do after the storm moves on. You can give up, or clean up.

“I need names of estate sale companies. People you know, honest people who won’t screw us over.” Charlie regarded me soberly and I continued, “And we’ve got to find an apartment, too. Somewhere cheap, but not too scary.”

“I might know of a few places.” Lucas startled me as he emerged from the curtains hiding his fix-it area.

My hormones did a happy dance at the sound of his voice. I was glad Sal wasn’t there to say “I told you so.”

“We can’t afford too much.” I dropped my eyes, embarrassed, then remembered who I was talking to. Lucas was hardly a rich kid. He would understand. His gaze fixed steadily on mine as he waited for me to speak.

“Depending on how much we make on the estate sale, I’m guessing we can afford about six or seven hundred a month. We need two bedrooms. And somewhere that takes dogs.”

“Duh. Of course you need to bring Toby.” His mouth quirked up, but I thought I saw a trace of pity in his eyes, and my jaw tightened.

“If you know of some places, that’d be great,” I said a little stiffly. “We don’t have much time.”

The two of them stared at me without speaking. I looked from Charlie to Lucas, bothered by their silence. “What is it?” I asked. “You both still speak English, don’t you?” I tried to joke, but I needed to keep my momentum, just like when I ran. I slid off the stool and headed toward the furniture section. “We’re probably going to need a small kitchen table. No way can we take our gigantic one to a small apartment.”

Lucas stood between me and the furniture. My shoulder brushed against his chest as I stepped around him, and I tried to ignore the sparks shooting through me from the brief touch.

“We should probably keep the good stuff we already have, right? Like the espresso maker, the toaster, that kind of stuff.” My words tumbled over each other.
Keep moving. Gotta keep moving
. I turned back to Charlie. “Mom always bought the best.” I glanced at Lucas and smiled shakily. “Anyway, I know a guy who can fix those things if they break.” My heart didn’t race. Too much. My pulse stayed steady. Mostly. This “just friends” thing was working great.

Lucas tilted his head at me. “What’s funny? God, Darcy, you’re talking about moving and losing all your stuff. Why are you smiling like that?”

I shook my head. “Never mind.” I paused to compose myself. “You guys are awesome. I’m going to need all the help I can get.” I held out my hand. “I need a pen.” Lucas stared at me like I was nuts, but grabbed a pen from his back pocket.

“Give me your hand,” I said. He did and I wrote my cell number quickly on his palm, then I dropped the pen into it. I even managed not to blush too much. “Text me if you hear of any places we can afford.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Absolutely.” He slid his pen back into his pocket and ran a hand through his hair, frowning slightly. I tried to read his expression, but he dropped his gaze, hiding it from me.

I returned to the counter. “Charlie, do you think one of your estate sale connections will sign a contract with a minor?”

He blinked at me. “Your mom will need to sign it.”

I sighed. Surely Mom could do that, at least, even if I was going to be stuck doing everything else. “Okay. But I’ll probably have to do all the meetings myself. Mom’s…um…really busy with work. Will you vouch for me?”

He looked like he might cry. “Of course I will.”

My shoulders sagged with relief. Maybe I could make this work. Maybe I could move a few mountains, with a little help.
“No one does anything truly alone. We’re all standing on the shoulders of those who came before us, or leaning on those walking next to us, sharing our load.”
Dad’s Greatest Hits, number 1,834.

“What time does your shift start?” Charlie asked.

“Four thirty. Why?”

“I’m calling in a favor from the lovely Liz. You and I are going to get something to eat first.” He glanced at Lucas. “Hold down—”

“—the fort. Got it, boss.” Lucas smiled at both of us, though his eyes were troubled as they lingered on me.

I
n a booth at Pinky’s Panini World I gorged myself on the most decadent sandwich ever invented—stuffed full of feta cheese, kalamata olives, roasted chicken, and sundried tomatoes. Charlie ate a salad. I didn’t know how he maintained that vegan thing, but he said it was easy. He’d even set up a vegan section in his store, where people could buy shoes and purses that weren’t made out of leather.

“The pile of crap on your plate just keeps getting bigger, doesn’t it?” he said, putting down his fork.

I almost choked on an olive, hearing my Zen uncle swear. He must be serious. I didn’t want to talk serious business, so I kept stuffing my face so I could get away with just a nod.

Charlie fiddled with his straw wrapper for a moment, then reached into his pocket and placed a set of salt and pepper shakers on the table. “These are for you.” One was a black ninja with a white sword; the other was its mirrored twin: a white ninja with a black sword.

I stopped chewing long enough to smile. “Wow, Uncle Charlie. These are cool.”

“They made me think of you.” He resumed eating his rabbit food.

“Me? Why would ninjas make you think of me?”

“Because you’re stronger than you realize. And you have the potential to be heroic.”

Since when did my uncle turn into Samuel L. Jackson and decide to recruit me to join the Avengers? Even worse, he kind of sounded like my dad when he was in hyped-up motivational mode. “I’m not exactly a superhero, Charlie. Not even a sidekick.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You underestimate yourself, Darcy. I hate to see that.”

Wouldn’t I know it if I were special, or amazing, or heroic? Did Superman need a memo to remind him that he could fly and crush steel with his bare hands? No, he didn’t. I was just plain old Darcy. My dad was the amazing one. Or at least he used to be. Not me.