Skater Boy (12 page)

“Well, I'm glad you're okay,” I venture. “I was really worried about you.”

Starr smiles. “You're sweet, Barbie,” she says.

I make a face. “You're not going to start calling me that again, are you?”

“Sorry.” Starr laughs. “You're right. Your Barbie days are over.” She scrambles to her feet. “But anyway, no need to worry about me. I'm fine. I'm digging the openmindedness Woodbury has to offer. There are way more cool people and more interesting classes to take. I fit in so much better than at Sacred Mary's. So tell the gang I said hi, and if I ever get off my groundation life sentence, I'll see you around.” She starts to leave, then turns back to me. “And thank you, Dawn,” she says in a more serious tone. “It really means a lot that you cared enough to come find me.”

And with that, she saunters out of the auditorium, leaving Sean and me alone.

“Well, that solves that mystery, I guess,” I say. “I'm glad she's okay.”

“I still can't believe you snuck out of school to come check on her,” Sean says. “That was so cool of you.”

I shrug. “I guess,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. But inside I'm doing the Snoopy dance. Sean's paying me compliments. He's seeing me as something besides poor little rich girl. That can't be a bad thing.

“Listen, I've got to get back to class,” he says, his voice actually sounding reluctant. As if he'd prefer to stay here with me. “And you should definitely get back to Sacred Mary's so you don't get into worse trouble.”

“Yeah,” I say. I know he's right. If I get back now, there's still a chance I can fake that I was in the nurse's office or something and not get in trouble for missing my make-up test. But still ...I steal a glance at Sean. I don't want to leave him. Chances are after this I'll never see him again and—

“Can you meet me after school?” he asks quietly. “Down by the parking deck? I want to talk to you.”

Hope surges through me at his words. He wants to talk. That's got to be a good thing, right? If he didn't want to get back together, why would he ask to see me?

“Sure, I guess,” I say in my utmost casual voice. “See you after school.”

We jump up from the auditorium floor and part company. Me through the doors out of the school and him through the hallways to class.

I am so glad this good-bye is the “see you later” type.

Chapter Fifteen

 

You know, I should skip school more often. I don't think anyone even realized I was gone. And anyway, even if they did, it was so worth it.

I head to my last period Honors History class with a big smile on my face. I can't wait to meet with Sean after school. I wonder what he's going to say to me. I just know he's going to ask me back out. I mean, there's no other possible explanation for why he'd want to see me.

I daydream through the rest of my day and when the bell rings, I skip out of school and catch the bus downtown. I'm so good at this public transportation thing now. And the downtown neighborhood doesn't even freak me out anymore. In fact, it seems almost comforting. Like no matter what's going on in my crazy life, this weird world's always there to greet me.

I'm still a little worried about Starr. I mean, she seemed okay and I'm glad she likes her new school, but … well, she's definitely got some issues she needs to work out in the home-life department. Issues she seems to have swept under the rug. I hope I can be there for her, to help her through it all. But in the end, she's got to deal with her own demons, I guess.

I arrive at the parking deck and listen for the banging of skateboards. But there's nothing. Just silence. I must have beat them all here.

I head down to my normal spot and see Sean sitting on the curb. I wave. He doesn't have his skateboard with him. I wonder why.

“Hi,” he says, smiling at my approach.

“Hi.”

He pats the curb, inviting me to sit down. I squat down beside him, trying to resist the chill that trips up my backbone as we bump knees. Why does he have to be so delicious?

“Sorry to make you come down here,” he says. “But I wanted to talk to you. And school didn't seem the right place. Not when some teacher could walk in at any moment and bust us.”

“Totally,” I agree, bobbing my head. “Especially since I don't even go there. They'd probably arrest me for trespassing or something.”

“I know you have things you have to do after school, so I'll be quick,” he adds.

“Oh, no, actually I'm free this afternoon,” I lie breezily. Truthfully, I'm skipping ballet and the teacher is bound to inform The Evil Ones. But I don't care anymore. I really don't. Sean is way more important to me than some stupid dance class. Way more important to me than my stupid parents' rules. In fact, if he were to ask me to drop out of school and run away to join the circus, I'd run home and pack.

“Oh. Okay, cool.” Sean grabs a stone off the ground and tosses it from one hand to another. Fidgeting. He looks nervous. Whatever he has to tell me must be big.

“It was really nice of you, coming to find Starr today,” he begins, tossing the rock at the curb opposite us. It bounces off the cement and lands a foot away.

I shrug, trying to remain casual. “Yeah, again, no biggie. Just wanted to make sure she was okay. I mean, anyone would have done the same thing in my place.”

“Not really,” Sean insists. “Most people, I've found, wouldn't give a crap.” He pauses, staring at the ground. “You're, like, a really good person,” he says, mumbling his compliment a little. “Nothing like …” He trails off, getting up to grab the rock he'd thrown and then sitting back down.

I look over at him, studying his hesitant face. I have no idea who he's talking about, but I can tell the Big Admission Into the Past section of the evening is coming right up.

“Nothing like who?” I ask.

He sighs and throws the rock again. “You know how I freaked about you living in East Oaks?”

You mean when you broke my heart by basically calling me a spoiled little rich girl who was using you as a white-trash novelty to rebel against my parents' totalitarian rule?

Um, not like I'd forget that one.

I nod in response.

“Well, two years ago, I met this girl. She was really pretty, like you. Very sweet. Or so I thought. She was from East Oaks, too, and I was madly in love with her.”

O
kay
then. A little TMI on the “madly in love” part, but I'll let it slide this once. After all, he did, however indirectly, just tell me he thinks I'm pretty.

“We knew each other from school—she went to Woodbury, too—so we sort of dated a while before I thought to ask her to come home and meet my mom,” Sean says. “And when I did, well, this girl took one look at my house and my family and totally freaked. She was out the door and into the arms of some rich dude from her neighborhood before you could say ‘bling bling.'“

I nod, afraid to speak. Now this is all making perfect sense. No wonder he'd acted as he had.

“My mom kept asking where she was,” Sean goes on. “Why she didn't come around after the first time.” He smiles a little. “Well, you've met my mom, you know what she's like. She loves people and loves to be around them. And so of course the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her by telling her what the girl had said.” He pauses, and when he speaks again his voice is laced with hurt and regret. “The girl I trusted. The girl I was in love with and brought over to my house. She called my mom a fat, white-trash cow.”

I grimace. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Sean exhales. “I mean, we're poor, sure. But we're actually doing okay, you know? My mother always figures out a way to make sure we're all fed, even though my deadbeat of a dad hasn't contributed two cents in the last ten years. At times this means working three jobs. But she does it—she sacrifices everything for us. And she never complains.”

My heart literally aches for Sean and his family and how they've worked so hard to have so little. I'm so selfish and spoiled—always whining about my life when I've never even had to lift a finger.

“So for this girl to waltz into our lives and judge us … well, it hurt … you know?” He shakes his head. “So anyhow I didn't want anyone coming in and hurting my mother's feelings again. Making her feel like she's a bad mother. ‘Cause she's the best,” he adds, his voice shaking in his fierce pride. He turns back to face me, his blue eyes wide and sad. “When I found out you were from East Oaks, I completely freaked. I was so afraid you were going to react the way my ex did. And even when you didn't, I kept wondering if you were thinking it all and were just too polite to come right out and say it. So I flipped out on you. And you didn't deserve it.”

He reaches over and takes my hand in his. I can't even breathe at this point.

“I'm sorry, Dawn,” he says, his eyes searching my face for acceptance. “I judged you the same way I didn't want you to judge me. For how much money you had, not what kind of person you are.”

“It's okay,” I squeak, my voice not working as well as I'd like it to at the moment. “I understand.”

He squeezes my hand so tightly, it practically hurts. “Thank you,” he says. “You're a good person.”

He leans in closer and I suck in a breath, knowing what's coming. I close my eyes and find his mouth by touch. His kiss is soft at first, his lips feather-light as they explore mine. Then the kiss deepens in intensity, evoking a strange fluttery feeling down to my toes.

He's back. The Sean I love is back. And he's accepted me for who I am, just as I accept him for who he is.

I'm so happy I want to cry. Or laugh. Or just kiss him a lot. A real lot.

Suddenly a car's screeching brakes interrupt this moment of tenderness and passion between us. We break the kiss and look up, only to see a BMW squeal out of the parking lot. My heart stops beating for a split second as I catch the license.

I'd know that vanity plate anywhere.

ASHLEY1

As in Ashley #1, former friend, and now sworn enemy. Ashley #1, child of The Evil Ones' best friends, the Parkers. The best friends who play bridge with The Evil Ones every Thursday night.

Tonight.

Ashley #1 has just seen me making out with a boy under the parking deck on the wrong side of town.

I'm so dead.

Chapter Sixteen

 

“What's wrong?”

Of course Sean notices something's wrong. I'm quite positive every last drop of blood has drained from my face and I'd currently make Casper the Friendly Ghost look tanned.

I motion to the spot where the BMW pulled out moments before. “That car belonged to my ex-friend Ashley,” I say. “And I'd be willing to wager my entire college fund that she's on her way to tell her parents she saw me with you.”

“And let me guess,” Sean fills in. “You all go to the same country club.”

I grimace, but nod. “Yeah. The Evil Ones are bound to find out about us by nightfall.”

Sean drops my hand. “I didn't want to get you in trouble….”

“Oh, no!” I assure him. “You didn't. This was my decision to come down here. Sean, I want to be with you. And I'm not going to let my parents run my life anymore. You're not some dirty little secret I have to hide. If they don't approve of us, well, that's their problem to deal with. Not ours.”

He grins and gives me a happy smooch on my cheek. Gah! Even his quick pecks have the power to send those crazy tingles to my toes and fingertips. If he could market that kind of electricity, he could solve the energy crisis.

Suddenly, a perfect “sure as” analogy comes to me. At first I'm not positive I should say it. Get it out in the open like this. It's risky, but it's true, and, well, I'm sick of playing games and following the rigid dating rules from the editors at
Seventeen
.

“As sure as I am that I love you?” I say, then hold my breath as I wait for his response.

He smiles widely and pulls me into a warm hug, his fingers stroking my back. “You know, Dawn?” he whispers, his breath in my ear evoking a billion more tinglies. “You should say, as sure as you are that
I
love
you
.”

“Oh really?” I nuzzle my face into his shoulder. Feeling happier at this moment than I can ever remember feeling my entire life. “Am I sure about that?”

“You should be.”

 

*

 

I open my front door like I'm dead girl walking, ready to face my executioners. At the same time, my insides are breaking out the nonalcoholic champagne and dancing on tabletops. It's a bad combo of feelings and it's making me a little sick to my stomach, to tell you the truth.

“Dawn Ashley Miller! Get in here. Now!”

I cringe. Here we go. Put the Sean Loves Me celebration on ice. The Evil Ones have arrived to bust up the party.

I drop my book bag and turn into the parlor. Mom and Dad have actually expended the calories needed to rise from their seats and are currently staring at me, arms folded across their chests and extreme fury in their eyes.

Gulp.

“Hey, guys,” I say, in an inane attempt to pretend nothing's wrong. “How's it hangin'?”

“Sit,” my dad says.

Uh, yeah. Woof, woof, Dad. Are you going to give me a Scooby Snack afterwards?

I plunk down on the hard antique sofa, wondering how anyone in this century or last could actually think it was comfortable. I mean if it's worth money, fine. Sell it on craigslist and then hit Pottery Barn. No need to keep it around, cluttering up your house and offending the poor butts that have to sit on it.

“What is going on with you, young lady?” Mom starts in first.

“What do you mean?” I ask, channeling that wide-eyed, innocent look of Puss in Boots.