Life in the No-Dating Zone (13 page)

But after this I wasn’t sure I wanted them to.

Why had she been so rude to Nyssa and Amy? I’d never heard anyone say Lindsey could be mean. She had a rep for being sweet no matter what happened. Apparently Amy didn’t see it that way. And I hated being dragged into the middle of their fight.

I wanted to be outside, breathing clean air, sweating out the muck flowing through my veins.

Sam thunked his water glass onto the table. “It kinda
was
like a movie,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” I said. “But not one I want to see.”

Twenty-Three

Claire

“Oh, this is cute,” Rose said, sliding the magazine across the carpet of my room. We lay on our stomachs, flipping through the latest issues of
Seventeen
and
Marie Claire,
and listening to Carrie Underwood belt out another boy-done-me-wrong song.

The photo showed a model wearing a leopard-print, skin-tight skirt ending maybe an inch below her butt. “Ha, right. For you, maybe.”

Rose laughed. “I knew you’d love it.”

The sound of the front door banging closed echoed through the house. Lindsey yelled out a hello to my parents, her light footsteps already on the stairs. She whisked into my room, closing the door behind her.

“You’re late,” I said.

She dropped her purse on the bed and kicked off her flip-flops. “I’ve been on the phone.”

“Who with?” Rose asked.

“Where’s your big back pillow?” Lindsey looked around. “It’s so clean in here. What’s wrong with you?”

I could ask her the same thing. I was still irritated over what she said to Nyssa and Amy at breakfast, but I wasn’t sure if I should say anything. I mean, she thought she was helping Gray, didn’t she? That was a good thing, right?

“It’s Saturday,” I said, squinting up at her. “Cleaning day, remember?” As if on cue, the vacuum cleaner started up downstairs.

“Oh, right.” With jerky movements, she searched the pile of stuffed animals in the corner of the room by the window.

“Quit,” I said. “You’re hurting Henrietta pig. Just sit down.” I retrieved my fuzzy purple bedrest pillow from the closet and tossed it to her, then put Henrietta on my bed. How had she ended up in the pile of stuffed animals, anyway?

Lindsey made no comment about Henrietta, which if I hadn’t realized it already, would have been a clear sign she was seriously upset. She sank down and leaned against my dresser instead of the bedrest pillow.
That
she clutched against her chest.

Rose and I spoke at the same time.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Who were you talking to?” Rose asked.

Lindsey squeezed her eyes shut like she was trying to hold back tears. After a couple of seconds, she opened them but just stared at the carpet. “I think Adam is cheating on me.”

“I know,” I said. “You told me.”

Rose sat up. “When? Where was I?”

“Spending time with Sam and his cousins,” I said.

“But this is worse,” Lindsey said.

“What happened?” Rose asked.

“I called to tell him about this morning at IHOP. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea about me and Gray because I can guarantee you Amy will call him and make it sound as bad as possible.”

“And?” Rose asked.

“He didn’t have time to talk. He was about to go somewhere.” Lindsey dug her nails into the pillow. “There were girls laughing in the background.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I said.

“No, but he said something in Spanish to them and they laughed even louder.” Her voice dropped. “And one of them was named Brisa.”

“His old girlfriend?” I asked.

She pressed her lips together and nodded.

“It still doesn’t mean anything,” Rose said.

Carrie Underwood’s songs seemed harsh and painful all of a sudden. I turned the music off.

“If only I’d called him right away,” Lindsey said, “then he would’ve had time to hear my story and at least
that
would’ve been cleared up. Now I have no idea if Amy’s gonna get to him before I do.” She jumped to her feet. “And stupid Brisa. I can’t believe he’s not coming home just so he can be with her.”

“You don’t know that for sure, Linds,” I said.

“No, but what guy stays away just to spend time with his grandparents? He’s lying. I know he is.” Lindsey paced from the dresser to the nightstand—a trip that took maybe four steps—and back again.

“But wait,” Rose said. “Why
didn’t
you call him right away?”

“I wanted to be home in my room, to be alone so I could walk around or whatever,” she said.

Hmm. “Whatever” probably meant to cry if she needed to.

“And I had to call Nyssa first.”

Strange. “You called Nyssa?”

“I just said that, didn’t I?”

“What for?” Rose asked.

Lindsey wouldn’t meet our eyes. “To apologize. I felt bad for embarrassing her. Amy just makes me crazy sometimes.”

That was one of the reasons I loved Lindsey. She could always surprise me. Just when she’d do something really rude, she’d turn around and be caring and mature. But I guess we were all a little like that.

Rose laughed. “You didn’t say that to Nyssa, did you?”

“About Amy? Of course not.”

“How’d Nyssa take it?” I asked.

“Okay. She spoke kinda softly, so I might have missed something, but she thanked me before hanging up.”

“Good,” Rose said. “I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t want her thinking I hang out with jerks.”

I tossed a magazine at her head, but she caught it with a laugh. “No,” I said, “we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Lindsey sat on the floor and hugged the pillow again. Rose and I exchanged one of our “who’s going to talk her down?” looks. Rose took up the job. She scooted forward. “You need to talk to him, Linds.”

“I’ve tried! Didn’t you hear me?”

“I mean,
when
you talk to him, you need to tell him what you’re afraid of.”

She stared like we were idiots. “Right. And he’ll accuse me of not trusting him, and then we’ll have a fight, and that’ll make things
so
much better.”

But the sarcasm didn’t slow Rose down. She really
had
changed over the summer. “You’ve seen for yourself how things work out when people are honest with each other. It’s what Claire always preaches. You just need to be brave.”

“Brave? Honest?” The last word burst from Lindsey’s mouth with a laugh. “You’re throwing around words like they mean something. If someone is already lying to you, they’ll keep lying no matter how honest you are.”

I figured it was time to help. “Linds, even if things go bad, it’s better to tell him what you think instead of making up stuff about what’s going on.” I hated myself for even thinking it, but I made myself say, “Give him a chance to tell his side.”

The look she sent me practically sliced my eyebrows off. “I’m not making stuff up, Claire. I know what’s going on, and I’m not gonna sit around doing nothing while Adam plays with his old girlfriend.”

Uh-oh
. I braced myself for the dramatic proclamation I knew was to come. Lindsey wiped an eye and stood. “I’m going to Hatch’s party tonight.”

“But you promised Austin—”

“I don’t care. He’ll get over it.”

Rose stood. “Lindsey,” she said in her best horse-whisperer voice. “You know how wild Hatch’s parties are.”

Lindsey planted her feet. “Why do you think I want to go?”

Hooboy
.

“Y’all should come too. Bring your boyfriends. It’ll be killer.”

Ugh. Here we go again
. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Right, Claire. Then bring that cute guy who hangs around with you constantly.”

I opened my mouth to insist Gray wasn’t my boyfriend, but Rose and Lindsey stared like they wanted me to divulge some huge secret romance. The more I protested, the better the chance they’d realize I liked him. Especially Rose. She could practically read minds.

“Whatever,” I said. “I’ll invite Gray just for you, Lindsey.”

“Perfect.” She grabbed her purse. “I’m going home to decide what to wear tonight. I’ll let you know about the time.” And she was out the door before Rose or I had another chance to try to talk her out of it. Neither of us said anything until we heard the front door close.

“So we’re going?” Rose asked.

“We have to. She’s scared about Adam. Which means—”

“She’s gonna get drunk.”

“Yup.”

Rose pulled out her phone. “We need to make a plan.”

Twenty-Four

Claire

“Claire, hurry up,” Lindsey called. She walked backward across a lawn next to Hatch’s lake house, Sam and Rose right beside her. That was our plan in a nutshell—don’t leave Lindsey alone. Don’t let her go off and hook up with some random college guy. And get her home before she drinks too much.

“Go ahead,” I yelled back. “I’ll find you. I’m looking for my stupid water bottle.” And waiting for Gray. He wasn’t due to be there for another five minutes and I wanted to show him where to go.

She waved, then swung around and walked on, a definite skip in her step. I continued my excavation of the trunk of Sam’s car, pushing aside his gym bag and piles of books. I’d tossed my water bottle back here without thinking when Sam was clearing space in the backseat for Lindsey and me. And his trunk light had burned out, so I was doing everything by feel, regretting the fact I’d left the tiny flashlight my dad had given me for my keychain at home.

With the big stuff out of the way, I ran my hands across the fuzzy rough carpet but came up empty. I hoped they had Cokes at the party. I’d promised my parents I’d never drink from any open container at a party and I’d gotten used to having iced tea in my tall aluminum bottle. It held about an hour and a half worth of sipping, which was as long as I liked to stay at any party.

A car drove by, its headlights briefly illuminating the rear of the trunk and the glint of something metal. That had to be it. I submerged, reaching blindly, my feet actually leaving the pavement. Man, sometimes I hated being short. But I’d reached my goal. I closed my fingers over a cold cylinder. “Ha! Got you!”

“Claire?”

I jerked upward, banging my head against some lethal car part. “Ow!” I struggled to get out, my eyes filling with tears at the stinging on the back of my head. Someone took my elbow and helped me stand.

“Sorry for surprising you. You okay?”

Gray. The concern in his voice warmed my racing heart.
Stop it, Claire. He’s just being friendly.
“I will be.” I rubbed my head, then lifted my tank top strap to dab the tears away before they ruined my mascara.

Gray made a strangled sound. “Uh—”

Oops. Was seeing my bra strap rendering him speechless? If so, that was kind of crazy, and it was too dark to read his expression.

He cleared his throat. “Are you crying?”

Ah
. Not a bra-strap problem, then. Just a guys-are-terrified-of-tears problem. “No. Bumping my head made my eyes water, that’s all.”

He reached for my head. “Let me see.”

Uh, no
. Gray touching me was the last thing I needed. I stepped back. “That’s okay. It’ll be fine.” I slammed down the trunk lid. “You ready?”

“Sure.”

We headed across three front lawns toward Hatch’s house, an uncomfortable silence stretching out between us. It was like there was too much to talk about—the IHOP debacle, why he’d been scowling at me so much during breakfast—that it’d become this thing, this mountain we couldn’t climb over. And I hated the weirdness. I wanted the easy friendship back—the one we had before he touched my lips.

“So,” Gray said, “you really think she’s going to get drunk?”

Good, something to distract my thoughts from lip-touching. “Yeah, I mean, none of us really drink, so it’s not like it takes very much to get drunk. And Lindsey’s really upset about Adam. You here as a support is big. She won’t forget that. I’m glad you were able to come.” Great. I was starting to ramble.

“Yeah, me too.”

A simple answer, but there was an irritated tone to it. “Uh-oh. Is your mom making you do extra chores or something?”

“Nah. My brothers and I just have to go out to lunch after church tomorrow with her and her husband. Usually we go straight home.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

He snorted. “You want to take my place?”

We were close enough to the party lights for me to see him grinning. Something light and airy sprang up in my chest and I laughed. “No, thanks. Besides I’ve got my own after-church lunch to go to. It’s a weekly thing.”

“I’d rather go to lunch with your family than mine.”

No, no, no. Don’t say stuff like that
. It made me want to invite him to do everything with us. With me. Man, I was hopeless. No matter how hard I fought it, I was thoroughly crushing on him. And it was going to be pretty painful if he actually did date Lindsey. I forced a laugh. “You know not of what you speak.”

“What, Baby Jack get too wild or something?” he asked, raising his voice to compete with some nearby laughter.

“Something like that.”

We’d reached Hatch’s backyard. Muffled rock music filtered through the closed windows of the house—Hatch’s concession to the neighborhood of older people. He never played music outside. People hung out in the backyard anyway—usually the ones who preferred talking to dancing. And it’s where we were headed. Lindsey had figured Austin would be inside and she wanted to avoid getting caught as long as possible.

We strolled down a sloping lawn bordered by trees dripping with white twinkle lights. Shouts and laughter came from about fifty yards away by the public boat launch. People were probably already swimming.

I led Gray toward the fire pit on a small patio. Two girls had pulled lawn chairs over but the other ten or so people stood in a circle, talking and staring into the flames coming from the round, metal pit. We joined Lindsey, Rose, and Sam and the circle magically expanded to take us in.