Life in the No-Dating Zone (27 page)

“Hey, guys,” I said.

The boys looked up. “Berger!” they yelled. They jumped up like they had springs attached to their feet and swarmed him.

“See you at work,” I said.

“If I’m alive,” he said over the noise.

My brothers tugged Berger into their room, both talking at sonic speed about different things. I jogged down the stairs and hurried toward the garage, grabbing an extra water bottle as I passed through the kitchen. I’d already taken the front wheel off my bike and the whole thing was stuffed into my car.

I was heading out to the lake trails. Somewhere different. Somewhere I’d never gone with Claire. Cycling was the only way I’d been able to function the last couple of days. Working my muscles into a hard burn, grinding, sweating, cleared my mind of everything else.

And an empty mind was worth every drop of sweat.

Forty-Nine

Claire

After an unexpected three-hour nap that afternoon, I trudged downstairs to see what was for dinner. It didn’t hit me how quiet the house was until I’d walked into the empty kitchen. No sound except the humming of the refrigerator.

I sank onto a chair at the table, then picked up a piece of flowered notepaper lying beside a pile of mail.

Claire,

Dad and I decided to get a bite to eat before going to walk the lake trails. Thought about waking you, but seemed like you needed the sleep. There’s lasagna in the fridge. Will be home around 7 or 7:30.

Love,

Mom

Hmm. Guess she wanted to celebrate after finding Jack a space in one of her top daycare choices.

My parents being gone was one of those good news/bad news scenarios. Good that I didn’t have to talk to anyone for a couple of hours. Bad that I didn’t have anyone to distract me from my thoughts.

Which kept centering on Gray. What he was doing, if he was hurting, if he was angry. And guilt over breaking up with him. Always guilt.

It was simple. I missed him. I’d ended it yesterday morning, but it felt like weeks since I’d talked to him. Not even a text. Which was a stupid expectation given what had happened between us.

Ugh
. I wanted to shake myself. Instead, I dragged myself to the fridge to get the lasagna. Once it was ready, I rifled through the mail to see if there was something worth reading. But the sight of my mom’s new gardening magazine slapped me in the face. A blooming lavender hibiscus bush decorated someone’s yard. Exactly like the one I’d hidden behind on the side of Lindsey’s house.

The lasagna suddenly tasted gummy. I set down my fork. I’d been so stupid to beg Gray to make a grand gesture toward Lindsey. If I hadn’t done that, Gray probably wouldn’t have told me he liked me and I wouldn’t have had to hurt him. Lindsey and Adam would have continued on as ridiculously as ever and she wouldn’t be mad at me.

Or not.

Gray might’ve found another way to tell me. I might’ve found another stupid way to get rid of Adam. And Lindsey would still be mad.

I was just trying to keep my friends, but all I’d done was push everybody away.

I forced myself to eat two more bites of lasagna, then set it aside. I stared at the gardening magazine. Gray had been so incredibly cute that night. Doing what I wanted even though he didn’t want to. Surprising me by making it about me. Following me home just to clear things up. And those kisses. My heart rate sped up just thinking about them.

I was an idiot.

I stood. Paced around the kitchen.

I’d dumped a guy who was in love with me all because my parents might separate. Irony, thy name is Claire.

I had to do something about this mess. I was tired of sitting around doing nothing.
Feeling sorry for yourself
, Rose would probably say. Which was true. But now I felt ready to do something. I just didn’t know what.

I guess it all came down to what I wanted.

A picture of Gray letting Jack crawl all over him flashed into my mind. He was so incredibly sweet. And I
so
wanted to be with him.

I also wanted Lindsey to not be mad anymore. But more than that, I wanted to be free of worrying that one of my parents might leave. I was sick of it.

I sucked in a huge breath. I wanted to break my no-dating vow. No. I
needed
to break it.

I hurried down the hall to the sunroom. My favorite place just felt right. I plopped onto the couch, then jumped back up again. I paced across the tiles, trying to banish the memory of the empty look I’d seen on my mom’s face those times when Dad was supposedly traveling for business.
Come on, Claire, you can do this.

I took off my necklace and cupped its green jewel, warm from my skin, in both hands. It didn’t have anything to do with my no-dating vow, but it did represent another one. A vow that hadn’t really worked. Expecting my friends to always put girls first had probably been too much to ask. It was all about give and take, planning, talking to each other. That was how we could keep our friendship strong. And we didn’t need a vow to do that.

Right. Moving on. I checked the hall to make sure no one was watching because I had to say this out loud.

The hall stood empty, of course. I cleared my throat. “I, Claire Gardner, do hereby break my vow to not date during high school. I release myself from words spoken in fear.”

Nothing happened. Lightning didn’t strike. A tree didn’t crumble to the ground outside. But I knew it was over. And a huge need to tell my parents filled me. Almost like the vow wouldn’t be gone completely unless they knew.

Six o’clock. I couldn’t sit still for another hour and a half, waiting for them to get home. I had to find them. Now. Maybe they’d already started their walk and I wouldn’t find them. But it didn’t matter. I needed to try.

My hands shook, so I pressed my necklace into the tiny pocket of my shorts. Then I raced upstairs, grabbed my purse, and headed for the car. Time to hit the lake trails.

***

By the time I got there it was almost six twenty. I had no clue when my parents had gone out for dinner or where, but I hoped I wouldn’t miss them by too much. I cruised by the park-like area where the trails began and turned into the full parking lot.
Dang it.
What was with everyone wanting to walk in the evening heat?

I spotted my dad’s dark-green SUV. Good. At least they were here. I trolled through the lot, hoping for someone’s reverse lights to come on, but of course they didn’t. Just as I’d given up and was about to look for street parking, I spotted my parents. They stood talking in the shade beside the tiny building that had restrooms and water.

Some car behind me honked. I swung the car into an empty handicapped space, then stared through the windshield at my parents. Or rather, their backs. They were looking down at something. Was that a park bench in front of them? Weird. Who stood around facing a park bench? And why weren’t they already on their walk?

I pressed my head against the steering wheel in between my hands, the AC blasting me in the face. I could do this. I had to do this.
You’re in a handicapped spot. You really should move the car first.
But if I did, my parents might be gone before I got back.

It should be easy, right? Just get out, walk over, and say,
Hi, guys. The reason I don’t want to date is because y’all might argue and Dad will leave again. This time for good.

Simple, right? Not really. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to get words past my lips.

Just go now
.

Right. I turned off the car, got out, and headed over to them. I stopped about twenty feet away and grabbed the hem of my T-shirt in my fists. It really did look like there was someone squatting on the grass behind that park bench, but I couldn’t see through my parents’ bodies and the wooden bench slats. Nor could I catch what they were saying. I opened my mouth. Then shut it. What was I going to do, yell at them? Because that’s what I’d have to do for them to hear me clearly. I made myself step closer.

My father chuckled, then placed one foot on the bench, resting his forearm on his knee. From that angle, he must have seen movement because he looked over and saw me. He straightened up. “Claire?” he asked, a quizzical smile on his face. “What’re you doing here?”

My mom turned too. “Did you come to walk with us?”

I opened my mouth again. Words still weren’t coming. Probably because my heart pounded in my throat as though it were trying to escape through my mouth. I forced out a noise that sounded a lot like little Devan Peterson practicing the violin. And when I finished the screeching crescendo I said, “I know y’all almost got a divorce.”

Both my parents’ mouths dropped open. “What?” they said, almost at the same time.

The person behind the bench stood up.
Gray
. Red-faced, hair smashed and wet with sweat, he wore his bike shorts and a faded green Nike T-shirt that clung to his chest as if someone had thrown a glass of water on him. He gripped the back of the bench with both hands, his knuckles a sharp white next to his normal tan. Why was he talking to my parents? Or they to him?

He didn’t speak. Didn’t smile. Just stared, his blue eyes slicing like laser beams into my heart. Even sweaty as he was, I wanted to run over and throw my arms around him. Tell him I was sorry, that things had changed, that I’d broken my vow. But none of that could happen. Not here. Not now.

“Claire,” my mother said, her voice quiet and intense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it sounds like something we should discuss at home.”

Dad cleared his throat. “Gray has just been telling us about different kinds of bikes.”

A sad attempt to change the subject if I’d ever heard one. But it didn’t matter because just then Mimi came around the corner of the restroom building followed by her husband Carl pushing Baby Jack in a stroller. “
Who
got a divorce?” she asked.
 

Fifty

Gray

At the sight of her sister, Claire’s whole body seemed to sink into itself. She looked away from all of us. If I were to guess, I’d say she was thinking about checking out of this whole mess.

But that was the problem. I couldn’t really tell what was going through her mind. Her dark glasses were starting to tick me off. I couldn’t see her eyes. All I knew was when she saw me, she froze, then went all fidgety. She moved from strangling her T-shirt to rubbing the back of her neck, and for a second I thought she was about to walk right up to me.

But she didn’t.

And even though I wanted to, there was no way I could go over to her. Not with all this family drama going down. Which she’d started. Had she really been about to tell her parents what she was afraid of? If so, did that mean she’d changed her mind? That we might have a chance together?

A sense of hope tried to thread its way into my chest, but I choked it off. I couldn’t go there. Not when I didn’t know for sure what was happening here. Or whether Claire even gave a crap about me.

Claire’s sister edged closer to her parents. “Why isn’t anyone answering me?” Her voice sounded wired tight.

Mr. Gardner, who’d been putting his hands in his pockets and taking them out over and over, shook himself. “Nobody got divorced. I’m not sure what Claire’s talking about.”

They all turned to Claire. She opened her mouth like a gasping fish but then focused on her dad. “A few years ago, after Mimi left … you did too.”

Holy crap
. She was doing it. I wanted to pick up my bike and sneak away, but my feet felt like they were trapped in cement.

“What’s she talking about?” Mimi asked.

Claire’s mom had gone pale. “We’ll discuss this later.”

But Mimi took their mother’s hand, her voice hushed and desperate. “No. I need to know. Now.”

Mr. and Mrs. Gardner exchanged looks. For a long moment, the only sound came from the cicadas buzzing in the trees and distant laughter. Then Claire’s dad rested his hands on Mimi’s shoulders. “Let’s take that walk.”

Claire took a step back. She looked around, almost like she was lost. Forgotten was more like it. Her parents were so focused on her sister that they didn’t even notice when she swung around and strode away.

Dammit
. Why did parents have to be so clueless?

Claire’s parents and sister moved as a clump toward the path where a man waited with little Jack. Must be her sister’s husband. He said something about taking Jack to get ice cream.

Well, yippee ki-yay.
Looked like they had it all worked out. I picked up my bike and headed for the parking lot. I’d just set it down on the sidewalk when I heard Mrs. Gardner say, “Claire?”

I didn’t even look back. Because if I did, and they saw me, I probably wouldn’t be able to keep the disgust off my face.

Once I had my bike loaded up, I sat in the car, letting the air conditioner do its thing, and thinking. Maybe it was the way Claire’s parents had treated her, or maybe it was just because I cared about her, but all of a sudden I didn’t want to give up on dating her. Even though I knew I should. I mean, she’d broken it off. She didn’t want it. But she’d talked to her parents. Didn’t that mean things were changing?

I rubbed the back of my neck. No. No decisions right now. I needed to wait. But hey, I was good at waiting.

Fifty-One

Claire

So … that went well.

I drove out of the parking lot as fast as I could, nearly running over a couple of kids who trotted out in front of my car. Go me.

I took a deep breath and released it slowly, trying to let out whatever this was burning inside of me that made my hands shake. I guess it was jealousy. Or resentment. I don’t know, but it was a pretty sure bet my sister could always make things about her. And my mom and dad were pros at the “take care of the biggest need at the moment” style of parenting.