Secret Life (RVHS Secrets) (9 page)

A couple roads down I slowed, not sure where to go. At the
next stop sign, I glanced both ways, hoping he’d fill in the blanks. When
nothing came, I decided asking wasn’t embarrassing. It was probably good for
him to know at least one girl in the RV wasn’t stalking him.

“I know you live off Center Street, but not really sure
where.”

“Fuller.”
There was that tension
again. It was like the guy from the bridge was gone.

On Fuller, he leaned forward as we drove, looking for
something…waiting for something. As we neared the end, he sat back, relief and
anger
both radiating off him.

There was one car in the drive.
Chris’s
old Acura.

Before I even stopped, he was reaching in the backseat and
tugging his pack out.

“Thanks for the ride.” The door closed behind him but he stuck
his head back in the open window. “See you tomorrow after lunch.”

And then he was gone.

I glanced at the clock. Eleven fifteen. I had at least
fourteen Chris Kent-free hours.

Chapter
10

“Girls!
I don’t care if you stopped
a deadly meteor from crashing into the Pentagon during last night’s sleepover.
That doesn’t let you out of chores when you get home in the morning.”

There is nothing more jolting than chasing the surreal with
the absolutely normal.

“I mean it, girls.” My mother’s voice carried through my
bedroom door. “If anyone wants to get fed, their chores had better be done.
Starvation is a valid form of punishment today.”

I gave a last look in the mirror before heading downstairs.
Luckily, with Chris not coming over till this afternoon, I didn’t feel the
pressure to be perfect…or even attempt a polish.

In the kitchen, my sisters shouted at one another as if
there was a brick wall between them.

“I am
not
walking
Molly. It’s your week.” Heather threw the leash across the counter at Cassie.

“The week isn’t over. It’s Sunday.” Cassie actually picked
up the lead to throw it back when Mom stormed into the kitchen.

“Molly can find a new home if no one wants to walk her.”

Before the yelling could start again, Mom snatched the lead
out of Cassie’s hand. “She’s fairly adorable. If I sedate her, any potential
owners can be fooled into taking her on the spot.”

Molly, while loyal and friendly, was also energetic and
lived to bark.
Loudly.
In the middle
of the night.
At really dangerous trespassers.
Like squirrels.

“I believe the two of you worked out a plan and made some
promises when I agreed to this dog.
Promises broken
equal no dog.”

Mom was in rare form today. I hated the day after I had an
attack. She was always on edge, tired and worried. I knew her reaction was
probably my fault.

Cassie and Heather both glanced from Mom to me as they tried
to gauge if the fight had any life left in it or if they’d better just figure
it out quietly.

“I’ll walk her today,” Heather said. “But we’re marking the
calendar that your week goes from Monday to Sunday.”

“But you weren’t even here yesterday. Or last night and—”

“It is probably just as easy to drug you and have you
adopted as it is Molly.” Mom handed the leash off and headed for the
coffeemaker. None of us would dare get between her and the
java’d
water. “Rachel, what’s your issue for the day?”

Another thing I love about my mom, she knows when to treat
me like I’m normal too.

“Chris is coming over this afternoon to study.”

Her mug gave a solid thud as she set it down and leaned
against the counter.
“Again?”

Even my sisters heard the
are-you-sure-there’s-nothing-going-on tone in her voice. The argument about dog
walking and calendars ended and they stilled like a two-year-old with a stolen
chocolate bar who thinks he’s being invisible.

“I’m tutoring him. Tutor equals studying together.”
Which, after last night, I had no idea what that meant.
“And
at some point, he’s tutoring me. Although we’ll see if he can count higher than
ten without taking his shoes off first.”

“Chris who?”
Leave it to Cassie to
jump on in.

Mom’s lips twitched. When your mom gets that a guy is so hot
even junior high girls will know who he is, there’s definitely a problem.

“Kent.”

Shock and awe.
Blessed
silence even.
And then, not so much.

“OMG, Chris Kent is
not
coming here.”

“He was here last night and I was at a stupid sleepover?”

“Are you guys dating?”

“
Pishaw
.
He doesn’t
date
.”

“He’s always got a girlfriend.”

“He always has
girls
.
There’s a difference.”

This is where my mother finally realized she’d better step
in. Or she panicked, one or the other.

“What do you guys know about guys who
have girls
?” Her tone was less suspicious and more oh-my-God-I’m-going-to-have-to-discuss-sex-with-my-twelve-year-old.

All she got back was a double shot of, “Nothing.”

“All right, Cassie and Heather.
Chores and
then chitchat in twenty minutes in the living room.”

“Oh, God, Mom.
Please not
The Talk.”
Cassie’s eyes rolled back so
far, I thought she’d force a swoon.

I have to say it was really nice to see all that motherly
worry focused on someone other than me.
Perfect escape time.

“I’m off to go finish my homework.” As if any parent has
ever argued with that statement.

There were still a lot of awkward defenses being thrown out
about health class and MTV when I escaped upstairs. For once I didn’t envy my
sisters being so close in age. It was nice to get out of the tandem sex talk.
As if the non-tandem one hadn’t been bad enough.

~*~

Mom was setting the dishes in front of us when the doorbell
rang. I didn’t even need to get up to know who waited on the far side of the
door. Glancing at the clock, I tried to harness my irritation since it read
only quarter past twelve. How fast did he think we ate here?

Shoving my stool away from the counter, I tried to read Mom,
to guess if she knew who it was. Guess if she was annoyed. Her quirked eyebrow
showed more amusement than
vexedness
. What was it
about Chris that could sway any woman? If women ruled the world, we could use
him as a weapon of knee-weakening destruction.
I’d be in
charge since, you know, I’m immune.

I’d already had to give my sisters the This Is
A
Secret talk. Hopefully that stuck. Threats were used.

“I’ll get it.”

“Obviously,” Heather said half under her breath.

The door was open, but there was Chris on the other side of
the screen, standing with his back to the house surveying the neighborhood. For
what, I couldn’t even begin to guess.

I shoved at the screen door, pushing into him and feeling as
aggravated as the squeak sounded.

“Hey,” Chris hitched his backpack higher on his shoulder and
moved to pass me.

“After.
Lunch.”
I put a hand out to
stop him. “Which word is the most confusing to you?”

He looked at his watch and then at me, his brow lowered.

“It’s barely past noon.” I still wasn’t letting him in the
door. I’d had a good morning and his show-up-sneak-attack could throw off the
groove. Do not mess with my schedule.

“How long does it take you to eat?” He tried to push by me
again, but my hand settled firmly in the middle of his chest.

“We’re just sitting down.”

His jaw went slack. Actually, all of him kind of went slack.

“You and your family?
You’re having
lunch together?”

I was on the verge of asking him why that was so weird when
my mother came into the foyer.
Smiling.
Darn her.

“Chris,” she raised an eyebrow at my attempt to stop the
storming of our lunch citadel. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, ma’am.
Kind
of.”

“Kind of?”
I could hear the mother in
my mom coming out. “What kind of answer is that? Wash your hands and join us in
the kitchen. Rachel, set your friend a place at the counter.”

Mom already headed down the hallway, but her comment had
both Chris and I frozen in place, studying each other.

“Friend?”
He repeated.

The word made my stomach slide to gooey. I didn’t have a lot
of friends left. Amy had always been patient, not really noticing my
eccentricities through her own worries. Even as my quirks grew out of control
she’d been too busy being invisible and just glad
I
could see
her
.
Ex-boyfriends were never friends. Other girls were hard to be around. They had
it all together even as they complained about nothing for compliments or to not
look snotty.

Chris looked around the foyer, as if it was a strange new
land and then down at me. His study narrowed, intensified, before it shifted
away.

“I like the idea,” he said, as he pondered the empty wall
over my shoulder.

“Okay.”

Our eyes met. It was an odd moment, reminding me of the one
on the bridge the night before.

“Okay?”

I nodded and pivoted toward the kitchen.
Friends
, as odd as it was, seemed like a
good idea.

Friends
sounded
like a nice safe box with nice strong boundaries and rules that made sense.
Friends
didn’t use you or break your
heart or dump you for some perky blonde sophomore.

Friends
was
heartbreak free.

~*~

Lunch had been…long.

It wasn’t every day my sisters had the chance to eat with a
hot, older guy who was also the captain of the soccer team and a local legend.
By the time they stacked the plates in the dishwasher, I was ready to shove him
out the door just to make the giggling stop.

My mom gave a last look at us before shooing the All-
A’Flutter
Twins through the doorway before her. It was
barely one o’clock as we spread our books out.

“I’ll be right back. I have to get your stuff out of my
room.”

I heard him ask, “What stuff,” as I sprinted up the stairs.

The night before I’d figured out how to
tutor History, how to make everything make sense.

And, like I said, Google is my friend.

I’d stolen a piece of the girls’ foam board and tacked it up
on my wall. I’d even gotten up early to finish it. It wasn’t done, but I was
almost to the chapter our class was on. Finished would have been nice, but I
hadn’t expected Chris to not understand the idea of lunch.

Rushing back downstairs, I found him on the floor, our lab
Molly’s head settled neatly on his lap. And why not, she was a female. She
might as well throw herself at him too.

I waited for him to get up, to put her aside so we could get
to work, but he kept stroking her head, both of them content to sit in the
sunshine streaming through the sliding glass door.

“I always wanted a dog.”

It was more than a simple statement. There were knotted
meanings behind it I couldn’t begin to unwind. I really did
not
want to believe there were depths to
Chris Kent. I wanted to believe he was shallow and not very bright. That he
took advantage of the girls too stupid to stay out of his path. That there was
a darn good reason Amy should be with Luke and well clear of the
A&F-model-in-the-making sitting on my kitchen floor.

I put my back to the sliding glass door and dropped to the
floor next to them, oddly comfortable being near him when his focus wasn’t on
me.

“You know, her name isn’t really Molly.” I watched his hand
pet her head, slow, even strokes. “When we got her, Heather was only six and
wanted to name her. And, six-year-olds can be really loud.
And
pushy.
So, since her birthday was two weeks after that, my mom called
that one of her birthday gifts.”

Chris’s mouth hitched up just a bit on the sides. It dawned
on me I’d never heard of any other
Kents
. He must be
an only child. As much as my sisters drove me nuts, I’d never trade them in for
anything.

“So?” He looked over at me, so close I could see the flecks
in his eyes and the way they crinkled as he grinned. “
You
going
to tell me her real name?”

“I will, but you have to make a promise first.”

My heart stopped when I watched his smile fall away. I
hadn’t realized how relaxed we’d both been, how almost synced.

“You have to promise not to tease her. She’s very sensitive,
and she’s obviously ready to become part of your non-existent fan club.”

The crinkles were back. Actually, he may have kind-of-almost
laughed too.

“Okay. I promise.”

“Princess
Awesomesalsa
.”

This time he really did laugh. “Princess
Awesomesalsa
?”

“Yup.
You can imagine what a
mouthful that is when she’s chewing on a shoe or something.”

I watched his smile grow, proud and annoyed to realize I’d put
it there, as he dropped his head back against the glass.

“Ready?”

He stroked Molly’s head a couple more times, gave her a
quick scratch behind the ear, and eased out from under her. Giving my project a
suspicious look, he settled at the counter and opened his notebook, pen in
hand.

I propped the cardboard against the wall and grinned. It
wasn’t even ugly. Typically I didn’t do crafts, but once I’d gotten into it, I
couldn’t seem to stop. I was so excited I didn’t even mind doing History first
again. Hopefully, we’d have some huge final project and I could just hand this
puppy in.

“This,” I gave the bright colored chart a
Vanna
White
viola
swoop with my hand.
“Is History.”

The board held timelines of all the major civilizations we
studied. Pushpins highlighted each chart and people’s names lining up next to
them. It was a good system. Each chart had a color. Each person and event on
those charts had a number. Each number was on a colored index card matching the
chart.

I know. I’m a genius.

“What the hell is that?”

Chris stood up to move closer to my masterpiece.

“You said you couldn’t see everything because it jumped
around. This is everything through chapter six lining up.”

He leaned closer, checking out the lines and pictures, and
flipped through the index cards. Laying them in neat piles on the counter, he
stared at the charts a long moment before he asked, his voice lower than
normal, “You made this for me?”