Life in the No-Dating Zone (23 page)

Gray carried me ten feet away and set me down. I didn’t want to face him. I couldn’t. I’d been growling! And he’d just told me he thought I was amazing. Did he still mean it? Or had my freak-out brought second thoughts?

He turned me around. “Hey,” he whispered. “You okay?”

I shrugged, not able to meet his eyes. Which I couldn’t see very well in the dark anyway. Probably better. I couldn’t handle trying to guess what he was thinking.

Gray straightened my glasses, which had been hanging crookedly across my nose. “You’re my hero,” he said. “You know that, right?”

His words surprised a huff out of me. “I’m an idiot.”

With a light touch, he lifted my chin. “My favorite kind of hero.” He smiled, then winced.
Way to go, Claire.
He was hurt and I was standing around feeling sorry for myself.

“How’s your eye?” I whispered.

“Not too bad.” He ran his fingertips across his cheek. “Guess it’s an injury-prone sort of day. First my ankle, now this.”

“Ha.” I gestured toward his eye. “We should probably get some ice on that.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, bro,” Adam said, coming toward us with Lindsey hanging on him. “Sorry about everything. I got it wrong. Amy said something about you and Lindsey. I didn’t know you were into Claire.”

Before Gray could say anything, Lindsey jumped in. “See, I told you not to listen to Amy. And I was right, wasn’t I?” She stared at Gray like they were sharing a secret. “Gray’s been into Claire for a long time.”

He what? Was that true? My stomach dropped to my feet. If so, it could only mean one thing—he’d been lying to me. About everything. The whole time I thought I was helping him with Lindsey he’d really been interested in
me
? A cold burning in my chest beat out knowing he liked me. I hadn’t known. Hadn’t detected even the slightest hint he wasn’t being honest. And what did that say about my ability to read people? Or his ability to be honest?

Gray stepped near and I backed away, clutching my middle. “Is that true? You
lied
to me?” I hated how weak my voice sounded, but I kept going. “I trusted you.”

Gray frowned. “No. Wait.”

But Lindsey laughed, oblivious to the tension running between us. “Don’t be so dramatic, Claire. You don’t have a lot of room to be offended. You just played a massive trick on me. Why’d you do it, anyway?”

Oh, no.
I had to change the subject. No, I had to leave. Get out of this situation before I freaked. Gray squinted at Lindsey as though he had a headache. Maybe having his face knocked in was affecting his mind. We spoke at the same time. “It was just a prank,” I said.

“Claire wanted to—” Gray said, looking like he wished he could take those words and shove them back in his mouth.

My fingers curled into my hands. He really wouldn’t blurt out the whole story, would he? Because Lindsey would kill me. That was a given. But I had no idea what Gray would say. I was clearly a lame predictor of what he might or might not do. I needed to leave. Now. I rubbed my palms against the side of my shorts, then backed up two more steps. “Let’s talk about this later. I need to get home.”

“Wait just a second,” Lindsey said. “Why exactly did you put on this show?”

I walked slowly backward. “We’ll talk later.” I tried to communicate with her silently—to let her know I’d explain everything—like we used to do really well. Before boys got in the way.

Gray started to follow, but Lindsey grabbed his forearm. “Hang on. Someone needs to tell me what’s going on.”

“Lindsey!” her mother yelled from the front of the house. “Are you out here?”

Perfect time to escape. I twisted around and headed for my car.

“Claire, wait,” Gray called.

My heart lurched. But I couldn’t stop. I waved, then broke into a jog. I had to get to the car before Gray could stop me.

Forty-One

Gray

Claire jogged across the lawn away from us. No perfect right angles this time. Guess that’s what you do when you want to run away.

I glanced down at Lindsey’s hand on my arm, then up to her face. “Look, sorry. Can I get back to you? I really need to talk to Claire.”

She tightened her grip. “You might as well tell me. I’ll find out anyway.”

“Lindsey Elizabeth!” her mother called out again. “Answer me.”

“Just a sec, Mom!”

Claire was almost at her car. I
had
to talk to her. “Really it’s no big deal. It’s like Claire said—just a prank.”

Adam draped his arm over Lindsey’s shoulder. “Never mind, Linds, let him go. I haven’t seen you in almost a week.”

She smiled up at him. “Oh, all right.”

“See ya.” I took off. In the street, Claire was opening her car door.

She lifted a hand in an almost-wave and slipped into the car, shutting the door behind her.
Crap.
I poured on the speed, the pounding of my feet fueling the pain around my eye. I stretched out, almost had a hand on the door handle, when she drove off.

Dammit, Claire. Why do you have to be so stubborn?
Rounding my car, I yanked my phone out of my pocket. A little too fast. It flew out of my hand and skittered across the asphalt before coming to a stop in the middle of the street. I swore and scooped it up. The screen had cracked in a jagged upside-down V. Perfect. Dad was going to love that.

But I didn’t care. All that mattered now was whether it worked. I pressed the “on” button, but the screen stayed dark.
No, no, no.
This could
not
be happening. I jabbed the button harder and it flashed to life. Finally. I tapped and scrolled, trying to bring up Claire’s number, but it felt like everything was happening in slow motion. She was getting away and I was standing there playing with my phone. Imbecile.

I jumped into my car, set the phone to speaker while it rang Claire, and pulled out.

She picked up after the second ring. “Yeah?”

“Why’d you run off? We need to talk.”

“I know we do. I just can’t do this right now.”

“C’mon, Claire, you—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t hang up. I didn’t lie—”

The phone beeped twice saying the call had ended. She was crazy if she thought I’d give up that easily. I pressed her number again. Half a ring and it went straight to voicemail.
Okay, Claire. If that’s the way you want to play it
…
I’m going to your house and I’m going to embarrass you in front of your parents.
I didn’t even know if she’d be there or was going somewhere else to hide, but it didn’t matter. If she wasn’t there, I’d wait. I’d wait as long as it took. Because she was talking to me
tonight
.

Twenty minutes later I paced on Claire’s front porch waiting for someone to answer the door. Surely they wouldn’t just ignore me. I stopped. Would they? No. The Gardners were too polite. But I couldn’t hear any footsteps. I checked my phone. Not even a minute had passed. I was going nuts with all the energy thrumming through me. I sank into a deep knee bend, came up, then did two more before I heard the deadbolt slide back.

Mr. Gardner opened the door halfway, his mouth a tight line. “It’s a little late, Gray.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Gardner. Is Claire around?”

“Yes, but I don’t think she wants to talk to you right now.”

“I know, I know. I just need a few minutes. She thinks I lied to her and I have to clear—”

He stepped closer to me and for a second I thought he meant to shove me off the porch. “What happened to your eye, son?” he asked, his eyebrows pinching together.

I fingered my puffy cheekbone. “Long story. Could I please have a few minutes? That’s all, I promise.”

Claire’s mom appeared next to her husband as though she’d been hiding behind the door. “He’s hurt?” She narrowed her eyes at me, then pulled me into the house. “Come into the kitchen. I want to look at that.”

“Liz,” Mr. Gardner said in a warning tone.

She ignored him, tugging me along the hall and into the kitchen. Hey, whatever got me closer to Claire was cool with me.

“Have a seat,” she said in the most commanding voice I’d ever heard her use.

“Yes, ma’am,” came out of me automatically. I dropped onto a sturdy wooden chair at the table.

She took one of those pre-made ice packs from the freezer, squeezed it, then set it on the table. How long was this going to take? From the determined set to her features, I was in for the full treatment. Mr. Gardner came in and picked up a mug from the countertop.

Claire’s mom loomed over me, tilting my head back, her fingers gently probing my cheekbone. I got a whiff of a flowery scent. I didn’t know where to look. At her face? At the ceiling? This was seriously awkward. She poked near the corner of my eye and I winced.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “This is going to be a beaut.” She backed off, wrapped the ice pack in a towel, then set it against my eye. “Hold that.”

I obeyed, relaxing a little as the cold prickled into my skin. How could I get out of this? And where was Claire? Up in her room? I couldn’t exactly race up the stairs. Not if I wanted to stay on her parents’ good side.

Mrs. Gardner leaned back against the kitchen counter and folded her arms. “Okay, what happened?”

Did I really have to do this? Simple. I’d keep it simple. “Uh, I got hit.”

Claire’s parents stared at me like they didn’t appreciate my simplicity.

Um, right. A little more detail. “Lindsey’s boyfriend hit me.”

“Why?” Mrs. Gardner asked.

“He thought I was moving in on Lindsey.”

“Were you?” she asked.

“Liz,” Mr. Gardner said.

She frowned at her husband. “I want to know.”

“It’s not our business.”

They held each other’s gazes for so long I figured I might be able to escape. “Could I talk to Claire now?”

Mrs. Gardner shoved a strand of blond hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure I want to let you do that.”

Crap
. “I wasn’t making a move on Lindsey. Really. I swear.” I rested my elbows on the table and looked straight at Mr. Gardner. “Five minutes. Please. That’s all I need.”

He considered me for three long seconds. “Okay, five minutes.”

I set the ice pack on the table and jumped to my feet. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

“Ben, I haven’t agreed to this,” Claire’s mom said.

“I’ll time them,” he said, then pointed in the direction of the sunroom. “Backyard.”

“Thanks.” I practically knocked the chair over in my hurry to get outside. I raced down the hall and skidded to a stop before the back door. The patio lights weren’t on. I stepped out blind. “Claire? You out here?”

A muffled gasp came from the far end of the yard. I strode toward the sound, tripped on a toddler toy, and landed on my knees next to Baby Jack’s soccer ball. “Umph.” This was definitely not my day. I climbed to my feet. “Claire, please tell me where you are so I don’t kill myself trying to get there.”

“Go away.”

I zeroed in on her quiet voice. Just to the right behind the live oak tree. “Not until we talk. Your dad gave me five minutes.”

“Traitor,” she mumbled.

I smiled and walked toward the tree. She didn’t sound as mad as she’d been at Lindsey’s house. Though maybe it was more that she’d been hurt. That’s what I had to fix.

Forty-Two

Claire

Gray was on his way. And there was nothing I could do about it. Oh, I could try to run into the house, but what was the point? He was here and determined to talk. So he could talk. I didn’t have to listen. I rested my head against the tree and shut my eyes.

His steps rustled through the grass. Then came sounds of him sitting. The air around me seemed fuller somehow, as though the vacuum I’d been sitting in had been filled.

“Hey,” he said in a low voice.

I opened my eyes. He sat close, legs crossed, elbows resting on his knees. “Hey,” I said, trying to ignore how much I liked being so near him.

“Why’d you run away?”

“You’re the one who wants to talk. Say what you have to say.”

“Okay.” He blew air out through his teeth. “First, I’m crazy about you.”

My heart started to race. I reached behind my neck with one hand and held on. He was a liar. I had to remember that. I’d squeeze every time I was about to forget.

He kept his gaze on his hands. “Second, I didn’t lie. When I asked you for help with Lindsey, I meant it. I had a crush on her. And like I told you at the park, I didn’t know her very well and it wasn’t until I was around her a lot that I realized we’d be horrible together.”

I squeezed my neck, but it only felt like a massage, not a reminder. I needed to pinch harder. Give myself a wake-up call. He picked up my hand from my lap and ran his thumb across my knuckles. I couldn’t decide if I should yank it back or lace my fingers through his. I didn’t do either. I could feel my resolve slipping away as voices argued in my head.
But he lied to you. He says he didn’t. Be quiet, he’s talking again.

“Anyway, I didn’t figure out how much I liked you until yesterday, and I’ve been trying to tell you all day. But stuff kept happening and it never worked out. So I decided to do the big gesture thing for Lindsey and make it all about you. And I tried. It would’ve worked if Castro hadn’t come along. At least I think it would’ve.”

He sounded so bummed I wanted to launch myself forward and cover him with kisses, but doubt made me hold back. “Then why did Lindsey sound like she knew something secret?”

He looked at me, but the darkness hid his features. “How should I know? Can she read minds? You’d know better than I would.”

“Ever since I first brought you around she’s been saying you liked me.”

“Huh. Maybe she can predict the future.”

A soft laugh escaped me. “Maybe.”

“Look, I know we’ve got a lot to talk about … ” He ran a finger down my cheek, leaving a trail of tingles behind. “ … but I have about two more minutes, and if I don’t kiss you tonight, my head will explode. So, do you—or I mean, can I … ” He straightened. “What am I doing? I don’t even know if you like me back.” He groaned over his lap, holding his face in his hands. “I sound like a twelve-year-old.”