Sass & Serendipity (27 page)

“No!
You
didn’t do anything wrong. It was Dad. He’s the one who screwed things up. And he still is! I hate to tell you this, but he’s got a girlfriend, Mom. They’re living together.”

“Yes, I know. They’re pretty serious.”

“You … knew?” Gabby was now pacing the room, clutching the top of her head with her free hand. “How? How did you know?”

“He told me. Why do you think I’ve been such a mess? Why do you think the ice cream kept disappearing in the middle of the night? But it’s okay now. I’m dealing with it. And I feel so much better about myself now. Stronger. Men aren’t the problem, Gabby. You have to forgive them. You have to forgive your dad.”

“No! I
don’t
have to! How can you say that after what he did to you?”

“Do you think that would have been fair, your dad sticking around when he only halfway loved me? When I only halfway loved him?”

“Frankly, yes!” Gabby yelled, pumping her free arm in the air. “Yes, he should have stayed here. With us.”

“He deserves better.
I
deserve better. I don’t want that for you, sweetheart. I don’t want you to find someone who only halfway loves you.”

“Who says I need to find anyone?”

“We all need people. We need friends, family … but one day I want you to have someone special, too.”

Gabby dropped onto the edge of the bed. “What’s going on with you?” she mumbled. “Why are you talking like Daphne?”

“I’m talking like Daphne?” She chuckled slightly. “Oh, I don’t know. These past couple of weeks have made me understand some things better. It’s like I’ve reintroduced myself to myself. Does that even make sense?”

“No,” Gabby said.

Her mom laughed again, and Gabby refrained from slamming the phone against the floor until it burst into its component parts. “Look, I’ll be back soon. We can talk about this more then. In the meantime … please don’t be so hard on people—especially yourself. You can’t dwell on the past, Gabriella. I realize that more than ever now. You have to look forward. Live your life.”

Gabby didn’t say anything.

“See you in a few days, okay?” her mom said.

A few days
. She could hold on. She owed it to her mom. “Okay,” Gabby mumbled, drying her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Bye.”

“Bye, sweetie.”

Gabby hung up the phone and flopped back against the mattress. Nothing made sense anymore. No one was acting the way they were supposed to.

Somehow her life had become the world’s hardest calculus problem. It made her feel small and lost and very much alone, like the two-inch-high Gabby in the dream … just waiting to get mashed.

“Gabby! Gabby, guess what?” Daphne ran into the house and set her grocery bags on the dining room table. The place looked empty, but she knew her sister had to be around somewhere. The car was outside.

She looked at the closed door of her mom’s bedroom, a big slab of oak with a fresh white paint job. It was so silent and immobile it seemed to be snubbing her. Of course it wasn’t, but the sister behind it could be.

Daphne crossed the room and rapped on it a few times. “Gab? Can I come in? I have some good news.”

She thought she heard a moan but she couldn’t be sure. “Just wait,” came Gabby’s muffled voice. “I’m busy.”

“Okay, okay.” Fine. Let Crabby be crabby. She had to call Mule anyway. Daphne pulled out her cell phone and selected his number.

“Hey, you,” he said, answering on the second ring. “Just in time. Listen to this.” She heard him set down the phone, followed by a distant jangle of guitar chords. “It’s the Beatles’ ‘Nowhere Man,’ ” he said when he got back on. “Or it will be, eventually.”

“That’s really great. So you’ll never guess what happened to me today!” She knew she was changing the subject too fast, but she couldn’t help it. She was too excited.

“What?”

“I ran into Luke at the store.”

“Really? Are you okay?”

She laughed. “I’m fine. Great, in fact. He actually said he was sorry for what he did to me.”

“That’s … Wow.”

“I know, right? And then—and this is even crazier—he asked me to prom!”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No! Well, it was a little more complicated than that, but he said he wanted to take me. Isn’t that wild?” Daphne twirled past the coffee table, letting her long hair fan out. “It’s like … magic or something. Now we can go back to where we were before this whole mess. It’ll almost be like nothing ever happened!”

There came a pause. “Wait a minute … you didn’t actually say yes, did you? Because that would be stupid.”

“What?” Daphne stopped whirling. “Don’t call me stupid.”

“I’m sorry but, how can you trust that guy?”

“He knows what he did was wrong and I forgive him. Because I love him.”

“You don’t love him. You just want him to love you.”

Daphne frowned down at the carpet, shaking her head over and over. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Why was Mule treating her like this? “Look, it was really nice of you to offer to help me out. Really. But you don’t need to worry about me anymore. Everything’s better now.”

“Is that what you think? That I just felt sorry for you?” Mule’s voice was angry-sounding—not exactly yelling, but sharp. “And what about you? Did you just think of me as some sort of guidance counselor? A long-lost brother?”

Daphne wasn’t sure what to say. Apparently she’d done something wrong, but she wasn’t sure what.

This was so unfair. All she’d wanted to do was spread her
joy and thank Mule for being so nice. He should be happy for her. He should be proud of her for working things out, just like he’d been proud of her for going to school and doing well on the geometry quiz.

Forget it. Obviously Mule wasn’t as supportive as she’d thought he was. He might be smart about math, but not about love. And she was not going to let him ruin this amazing thing that happened.

“I’ve got to go,” she mumbled. “Bye.”

She hung up the phone and tossed it onto the couch just as Gabby emerged from the bedroom.

“What was that all about?” she asked. “Who were you just talking to?”

“Mule,” Daphne replied, dropping into the armchair.

Gabby raised her eyebrows. “What did he do?”

“He’s treating me like a baby, just like you and everyone else. I told him I was going to prom with Luke after all and he told me I was stupid.”

“You’re … what?” Gabby’s eyes grew wide. “You’re going to prom with
Luke
? Since when?”

“Since this afternoon.” Daphne grinned and bounced on the seat cushions. “Can you believe it? He said he was sorry and he wants to be with me!”

“Oh, my god.”

“I know! I almost can’t believe it myself. It’s so … dreamlike.”

“You are such a spoiled, stupid brat!”

Daphne gaped at her sister. “Screw you!” she yelled, jumping to her feet. “Screw Mule! Screw everybody!” She pivoted
around in one last, hair-lifting twirl and ran to her room, slamming the door behind her.

What was going on? Why was everyone dumping on her good mood? It was as if it were against the law to be happy around here. As if an evil sorceress had cursed the entire Rivera household, dooming them to everlasting misery.

Well, not Daphne. She didn’t care if the whole town, the whole world even, came and yelled at her. Her mom might have turned to stone and her dad might have been ensnared by a siren from San Antonio and her sister might be a wicked witch-in-training, but Daphne would escape. Somehow she would break the spell.

Gabby threw the Jetta into park and raced up the walkway to Mule’s house. Crossing the porch, she could see him through the window sitting on the couch, bent over the guitar he’d scored off of Craigslist last summer.

She knocked three times and then let herself in—just as she usually did.

“I heard what Daphne did to you,” she said.

Mule shrugged. “Yeah, well … whatcha gonna do?” he said in his lousy mobster voice. He looked down at his unplugged Stratocaster and plucked out a random series of notes.

Gabby stood in front of him, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you even asked her in the first place. I knew it was a bad idea the minute I heard it.”

“And why was it such a bad idea?”

“Aw, come on! It’s Daffy. I would have thought you had
enough sense to see through her cutesy-poo charm. The girl is spoiled and selfish and stoned on her own daydreams.”

Mule held up his hand. “You know … you can stop. That’s enough from you.”

“What?” Gabby’s face felt hot and prickly. “Why are you talking to me like that? I’m on your side. I’m pissed off at her.”

“So you’re mad. Whatever. That’s your reaction to everything.”

“Of course I’m mad! She’s always pulling stuff like this. Welcome to my life.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe one of the reasons you get so angry with her is because she’s willing to take risks that you aren’t? She’s not too scared to feel things—to feel for
people
, and even tell them about it.”

“And I am?”

Mule’s silence was answer enough.

“This is ridiculous! You’re actually defending her, after what she did to you? The girl wouldn’t even give you the time of day a few weeks ago. Do you know what she used to call you behind your back? Nerd King. Isn’t that sweet?”

Mule reached over and slammed his fist down on the coffee table, causing papers and pencils and empty fountain-drink cups to jump. “Stop it!”

Gabby stared at him in mute disbelief. Over the years she’d seen a whole variety pack of expressions on Mule’s face, but this was by far the worst. Rutted and streaked with red, his eyes like tiny coin slots. He looked so … non-Mule-like.

“What I need right now,” he growled through his teeth, “is an understanding friend. And since you obviously don’t know how to be one, I think you should just leave.”

Gabby shook her head. “You don’t mean that.”

Tossing his guitar aside, Mule sprang up from the sofa and stalked to the door, opening it wide. “Awfully nice of you to come by and cheer me up, Gab,” he said. “Time for you to move your ass on out of here.”

She wavered in place for a second, blinking hard. “Fine!” she said, and marched past him into the annoyingly bright sunshine. The door shut with a loud
wham
behind her, like an exclamation point.

Gabby stood there on the creaky porch, replaying the previous two minutes in her head and trying to pinpoint the precise second it all went wrong. But she couldn’t figure it out. What had she done, exactly? Why was he so mad at her?

Maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised. After all, her mom was happier without her. Her dad was happier without her. And now Mule had literally tossed her out of his house—and maybe his life.

Gabby often said she didn’t need people, and she really hoped that was true. Because right now, she had no one.

Daphne studied her right hand. Ten minutes into her prom date and she’d already messed up her manicure by repeatedly chomping down on her nails. But she couldn’t help it. It was the most important night of her life—the night that would undo the worst night of her life—so she was understandably nervous.

As happy as she was with the dress, Daphne felt awkward sitting down in it. The skirt poufed up several inches from her lap and made rustling noises every time Luke drove over a bump. Meanwhile, her overuse of hair spray was filling the car’s interior with fumes, and the safety belt threatened to crush her corsage. (Not that she minded too much, since it was made out of the same scary-looking flower she’d rejected for the boutonniere—the tropical monster with the little spiky things sticking out from the center.)

Neither of them talked. Over the past couple of days they’d spoken on the phone a lot, mainly discussing all the last-minute prom preparations. But now there didn’t seem to
be much to say, and the topics Daphne came up with were too tied to excruciating past events.

Meanwhile, Luke seemed to be concentrating on driving. He was ultracareful with stops and checked the mirrors every few seconds, and he never got his parents’ green SUV up past thirty miles an hour. Daphne felt as if some dotty fairy godmother had converted their coach out of a turtle instead of a pumpkin.

She wondered where Luke could be taking her for dinner. The whole time he’d been very secretive about it, saying it was a surprise. Maybe the Rushing Water Inn? Of course. That was probably it. And he’d remember to order two chicken cordon bleus. She couldn’t wait to see him in the candlelight.

Just then, Luke pulled off the road into an empty gravel lot.

“What’s wrong? Car trouble?” she asked.

“Nope. We’re here,” he said, smiling sneakily as he cut the engine.

“But … where are we?”

“It’s time for dinner.” He reached into the backseat and lifted up a cooler. “I thought we would have a picnic.”

Daphne looked out the window. Sure enough, they were across the street from Monroe Park. There was hardly anyone there. Just a couple of middle schoolers in the far corner kicking around a soccer ball. “Oh,” she said, trying to sound pleased. “Great.”

She probably shouldn’t feel so let down. After all, she’d daydreamed about their having romantic picnics in the park.
But it was prom; it was the night they would face up to all the teasing and show everyone they were together. For something this big she wanted to feel more like Cinderella the princess instead of Cinderella the scullery maid.

She followed him to the park and across the grounds to one of the picnic tables. Her heels sank into the dirt, and gusts of wind kept lifting the back of her dress, revealing the netted slip underneath. But Daphne stuffed down her disappointment. Instead, she focused on how beautiful the evening was. The sun was low on the horizon, streaming through the nearby trees and throwing streaks of orange and pink across a deep turquoise sky. Except for the clouds of mosquitoes newly hatched from the nearby creek, it really was a dreamy setting.

They sat down at the table and Luke immediately began pulling wrapped sandwiches and sodas out of the cooler.

“We have tuna, turkey and Swiss, and PB and J. Whatever you like.” He grinned awkwardly as he lined them up on the tabletop. “Pick your poison.”

Daphne selected what appeared to be a turkey sandwich, figuring it was the least messy option, and a can of Sprite. She smiled back at him and took a bite.

Luke looked so handsome in his tux. He hadn’t bothered to match the cummerbund and tie to her dress, explaining that he’d borrowed the suit from his dad. But at least the silvery gray color was nice and sleek and didn’t clash with the boutonniere she’d pinned on him. She really loved how the flower brought out the rosy tint in his soft curvy mouth, and the way his eyes stood out even more on his face since he’d combed back his wavy hair with a bit of gel.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” Luke gestured about the park. “No crowds. No waiting. Lots of fresh air.”

“Yeah,” Daphne said, waving a bug out of her face.

By now the middle schoolers had stopped their game and were pointing at them and snickering. It reminded Daphne too much of Tracy’s party, so she leaned sideways, letting Luke’s neatly coiffed head block her view of them.

Everything was quiet, except for the sounds of their chewing and the drone of the cicadas in the trees above. She searched her mind for something to say before the silence felt too long or squirmy. But once again, she couldn’t think of a good subject.

Just then, a rustling came from the nearby weeds and a duck waddled out, appraising them with a tilt of its head.

“Well, hello,” Daphne said to the duck. That gave her an idea—a great way to break the tension. “You know, I do an awesome duck,” she said to Luke. “Want to hear?”

“Um … sure.”

Daphne slouched down, folded her arms into wings, and retracted her head slightly. Then she let loose with a whole series of nasal-sounding quacks, ending with her bursting out laughing.

She couldn’t tell who looked more startled, Luke or the duck.

“That’s funny,” Luke said, even though it was clear he thought the opposite.

Daphne felt foolish. “It’s just something I do,” she said with a shrug. “Not all the time or anything, just … for fun.”

Luke nodded and gazed off toward the sunset. He swallowed hard, making his neck bulge out like a bullfrog. Daphne
had a fleeting urge to do her best frog noises but decided not to. Luke just wasn’t loosened up enough for joking around like that.

She chomped on her left thumbnail and again tried to come up with a nonstressful conversation starter, something besides school or parties or his move. Or anything animal-related.

“So … where do you think you’ll go to college?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Luke said, lifting his shoulders. “There’s still time for me to figure that out.”

“You’ll probably want to go to a small college, right? I mean, you like small towns and all, so I’m guessing you won’t want one of those superhuge universities, huh?”

“I guess.”

They lapsed into another silence. This time even the cicadas went quiet.

“So what do you think you’ll study?”

He shook his head. “Beats me. What about you?”

“I don’t know, either.” She thought about what Mule said. “But it will probably have something to do with people. I think … I think maybe I’m good with people. Do you?”

Luke looked right at her, and his lips slowly curved into a smile. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, you sure made me feel welcome.”

Daphne grinned. Finally, she was making progress.

“You know, I was thinking …” Luke leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “What if we just blew off prom? We could do something else—just the two of us. Without all those other jerks.”

“But … didn’t you already buy the tickets?”

“Nah. I was going to get them at the door.”

A sudden realization swept through her, tightening her gut. “You can’t go through with it, can you?” she said. “That’s why we’re here. You don’t want to risk being seen with me.”

Luke opened his mouth as if he was going to protest, then quickly closed it. Guilt weighed down his features.

“It was your idea for us to go together. Remember?” Daphne said, her voice rising. “You wanted to show them all.”

“I know. I thought I could do it, but … Look, the guys really teased me about your little speech at the party. If they see us together, they’ll probably start up all over again. You have no idea what it’s like.” He stopped, noticing the glare on Daphne’s face. “Okay. I guess you do know. But it’s not the same. I’m new. Everything I do counts big-time. If I’m going to spend another year here, I need friends. Right?”

“I thought you said you didn’t really think they were your friends. That you didn’t feel like one of them.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes I don’t like them all that much. But it beats not having anyone. And it’s not like there’s a lot of people in this town. I don’t have a lot of friend options.”

“But you have me, right?” she asked, her voice shaky. “What about me?”

“Um … sure,” he said, seeming confused. “I like you. Really. I just can’t risk everything for you. If you’re my friend, you’ll understand.”

Daphne glanced around. Everything felt suddenly unreal, as if she’d fallen down a rabbit hole into a bizarre, parallel world. The sky seemed full of cartoon colors. Even the duck looked as if it were shaking its head in pity.

“Can’t we just be a secret for a while?” he said, placing his hand on hers. “At least until things get better? Until everyone has totally forgotten the whole thing? We could still hang out, you know, away from everyone.”

So he did want to be with her. But only if no one saw.

She stared hard at him, studying his face in the psychedelic sunset. She’d thought he was a gentleman. She’d thought he was sweet and loyal and old-fashioned. But he wasn’t. He was just lonely and whiny—and kind of boring. He wasn’t even Luke. Sure, he looked the same, but he wasn’t the ultrasensitive, superromantic guy she’d been daydreaming about. In fact, he didn’t even seem all that cute anymore. He wasn’t ugly, just … okay. Although his eyes were too wide and scared-looking. And he had that annoying silent laugh, a mere smile and shoulder jiggle.

Mule was right. She didn’t love him. She just wanted love. She wanted to be adored by the Luke of her dreams.

Luke let out a groan and pressed his fingers to his temples, the same way Daphne’s mom did whenever one of her migraines started. “You know, you’re right. I’m being dumb,” he said. “Let’s just go. I asked you, so I should take you.”

“Oh, well … how can I refuse?” Daphne said, placing a fluttering hand over her heart.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just mixed up.”

“Forget it. You already chickened out. It’s obvious you don’t want to go with me.”

“But I do like you. I do want to be with you—just not there.”

Daphne shook her head. “Not good enough. Besides, I
don’t want to be with you. Not anymore.” As she heard the sentences come out of her mouth, Daphne realized she meant every word. She wasn’t just saying them to hurt Luke. She was really, truly over him.

She got to her feet, packed up her sandwich wrappings, and tossed them into a nearby trash can.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“We’re done here,” she said. “I’m leaving.”

“Wait. I’m sorry. We could still—”

“Don’t be sorry. I made a mistake. I thought going out with you tonight would totally erase what happened at the party. That things could go back to the way they were before. But that won’t happen. Things
are
different.
I’m
different.” She picked up her purse and tucked it under her arm. “So you’re off the hook. No more me. No more teasing. You don’t even have to drive me home.”

Daphne headed across the park, wobbling a bit in her heels. As she reached the road she glanced back, wondering whether Luke might come after her. But he was still sitting there, gazing down at his half-eaten tuna melt, looking kind of forlorn. The soccer kids had already gone home. Even the duck had wandered off.

She supposed she should feel sad or angry, only she didn’t. It was like … finishing a story. There’d been thrills and surprises and some not-so-great turns of events, but now it was over. If anything, she felt sorry for the guy. She really hoped he would find his place here. Just like she had.

“Stupid!” Gabby yelled. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!”

She was so stupid.

She gazed through the window of the Jetta yet again, hoping she wouldn’t see what she’d seen earlier, hoping it had all been a bad hallucination brought on by her rushed dinner of Dr Pepper and movie theater hot dogs. But no such luck. There they were: her keys, hanging from the car ignition. And every single door was locked tight.

Why, Universe? Why?
She’d already worked a double shift at the cinema since so many of the usual Saturday staffers had taken the day off for prom. She’d even stayed late to help with the broken popcorn machine, making certain she’d avoid seeing Daphne get dolled up for her date with that twit. Now all she wanted was to change into her pajamas and watch some mindless crap on TV, preferably some reality show featuring dim-witted egomaniacs whose lives were even more screwed up than hers.