The Romeo Club (22 page)

“No. You’re fine.”

He bent down to pet Jimbo, who’d loped to his side. “Hey boy, I hope you’re being good.”

“He is.” I dribbled the ball over to him.

Carver’s puffy eyes met mine. He unbuttoned his suit coat and set it on the picnic table. Next, he slipped off his dress shoes and socks, then rolled up his shirt sleeves. He glanced at me, and I knew exactly what he needed and wanted.

I passed him the ball with the outside of my foot. Like me, soccer was home for him. As he ran down my makeshift field, I tore after him. It took me a minute, but I caught up to him. He flipped the ball up with his feet, and juggled it on his knees. Then he was off again.

This time, I cut him off and played defense. I watched the ball for a second, then shifted my eyes to his hips. In seventh grade, he’d taught me to watch what direction a player’s hips went, because that’d be the direction they took the ball.

A second later, I made a play for the ball, and stole it. I caught it on the top of my shoe and juggled it. Another move he’d taught me. I dribbled back the other way, but Carver easily caught up. Back and forth we went. Sometimes, I’d get a shot off into my goal, other times it was him. After several times back and forth, Jimbo decided to join us. He ran alongside whoever had the ball, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

As we weaved down the field, I saw the tears running down Carver’s face. But we didn’t stop or talk. We just played. We left everything on the field. Our hurt. Our tears. Our fears. It was just us and the ball.

When darkness set in, we were both covered in sweat and mud. Carver took one more shot, which of course, went in. Without a word, we headed over to the picnic table and plopped down on top of it.

I stripped my sweatshirt off, and used the sleeve of it to wipe my brow.

“I remember when I taught you to play,” he said at last. “You used to always come into my yard with your ball and try to copy my moves.”

I laughed. “Yeah, and you
always
tried to send me home.”

His lips twitched at the memory. “But my mom yelled at me for doing that, and then she made me teach you how to play.” He toyed with the buttons on the sleeve of his shirt. “That day she said, ‘Someday, you’ll be glad you helped her … she’s not gonna be a little girl forever. Just you remember that.” His voice cracked.

I quirked an eyebrow at him and stared at the mud splatters on his dress pants. “She was a wise woman.”

He reached over and ruffled my damp hair. “Yeah, she was. But seriously, Del, I don’t know how I would’ve made it through this week without you.”

My cheeks warmed as I glanced at him. “You would’ve managed.” A door shut from the other side of my yard, and I saw Trey taking the trash out. He looked in our direction and gave an awkward wave.

This was the second time, I’d seen him today. What was going on with him?

Carver waved back. “Do you want me to go so you two can hang out or something?”

“No. We’re not exactly on speaking terms right now.”

“Bad breakup?”

“More like I was an idiot and screwed up our friendship.”

Carver folded his hands in his lap. “Can I help with anything?”

“Not unless you can turn back time,” I said.

He frowned. “Trust me, I wish I could.”

We sat together for a while longer chatting about soccer and his college team. When the full stint of darkness hit and Mom turned on the backyard light, Carver stood.

He grabbed his suit coat and shoes then turned to me. “When I come home this summer, we’ll have to go out sometime.”

I smiled. “You know where to find me.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I do. And by the way, my mom was right about you.” He gave my hand a squeeze before walking toward his house.

Holy crap. Did Carver Foster just say he wanted to go out with me sometime? I pinched my arm. Nope. Not dreaming.

From next door, I heard the sound of a trash can top clanking. For a moment, I swore I thought I saw Trey watching us. But I couldn’t tell for sure. Why in the heck was he spying on me? He had Portia now, or so he’d made it clear the last time we’d spoken.

With a sigh, I called Jimbo and went back inside. At least I could look forward to summer. But it seemed so far away.

Chapter 34

Mom set an odd looking bowl made of biscuit on my plate then hurried into the kitchen. I wrinkled my nose and caught my brother’s eye.

“What is this?” I whispered.

“I’m almost scared to ask.”

She came back into the room with two pans, while Dad carried the other one. “You guys are going to love this. It’s a new breakfast recipe I found online.”

First she dumped a blob of scrambled eggs, into the biscuit. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Then she scooped a spoonful of veggies in. There were pieces of squash, Brussels sprouts, onions, peppers, tomatoes, potatoes, mushrooms, olives, beets, and other various things. On their own, I normally loved vegetables, well other than the plant balls. But all together? Gross. Who ate beets in their eggs?

Mom then took the last pan from Dad and put shrimp on top of that. Oh God, I might actually spew. Seafood eggs?

“This smells divine, honey,” Dad said. He pulled his chair up to the table and sat down.

No. It smelled like dirty lake water, mixed with eggs. I picked up my fork, and stirred the concoction up. No way could I eat this.

Even Jimbo had gone to hide and he normally ate anything. Smart dog.

“Maybe if we put ketchup on it, it’ll drown out the taste,” Drake said under his breath.

I snorted. “Yeah, doubt that.”

Dad reached for his morning paper and took a swig of coffee. Probably to wash down the food. He read through the first section pretty quick. And folded it up beside him.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. I leapt to my feet. At least this way I could prolong the whole eating thing. “I’ll get it.”

When I opened the door, I found Mr. Foster and Carver on the porch.

“Hi, Delyla, I wanted to drop by and talk to you for a few minutes,” Mr. Foster said. “Although, I suppose I ought to include your parents in on the conversation too.”

“Um—sure, come on in. We just sat down to breakfast.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No. It’s perfect timing.” I let him in then leaned over to Carver. “If my mom offers you breakfast say no and run like hell.”

He chuckled. “Do I want to know what she made today?”

“Not if you don’t want to barf.”

Yeah, my mother’s cooking was a legend in the neighborhood, just not for the right reasons. People turned down dinner invites all the time, unless they found out it’d be at a restaurant.

When we got to the dining room Mom stood. “You’re just in time for breakfast. We have plenty to go around.”

Mr. Foster held his hand up. “We actually already ate. But thank you.”

“You can have mine,” I whispered to Carver. “For the road?”

He put his arm around my shoulder and bent closer. “Nice try. But if you want, maybe I can leave a box of granola bars on your porch for later. You know, in case you get hungry.”

I grinned and turned to Mr. Foster.

“I wanted to thank you for taking care of Jimbo this week. It’s been a huge help. The thing is I’m going to be taking Carver back to school today. I’ll be gone for a few days, maybe more.” He rested his fingers on the back of one of the dining room chairs. “Jimbo was my wife’s dog. But with me out of town for sometimes a week at a time, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to take care of him. So I wanted to see if Delyla might want to keep him?”

Jimbo trotted into the dining room and sat down next to me. He glanced up at me expectantly. Okay, so he could be a total perv, but he’d kind of grown on me. I rubbed his head.

“I wouldn’t mind,” I said.

Mom and Dad exchanged a quick look. “It’s okay with us.”

Mr. Foster let out a relieved sigh. “I’ll give you money every month for food. And when I’m home, I wouldn’t mind taking him for a night or two.”

“Sounds good,” I said.

Mr. Foster thanked me again, then headed to the door. “I’ll be in the car,” he told Carver.

I walked Carver into the living room. He stopped next to the couch, his fingers looped in the sides of his pockets. “So, I’ll see you this summer, right?”

“Yeah. Take care. And if you need someone to talk to while you’re at school, give me a ring.”

He took a step forward and drew me into his arms. “Take care, Del. You really don’t know how much you’ve done for me this week. And I’ll never forget it.”

“You’d have done the same for me.” His cologne wafted in the air. Holy yummy. Gah, wait until I told Kenadi that the King of Shirtless Car Washes hugged me. Again. With that, he pulled back and I watched him and his dad pull away.

When I got back to the dining room Mom had already finished her food. Dad was nowhere to be found. Neither was my brother. So I did what any good girl would do, I picked up my breakfast, went into the kitchen, and opened the trash can. Inside, I saw one of my dad’s rolled up newspapers. I shoved it aside so I could hide my biscuit egg crap. Inside the newspaper, I spotted the remains of Dad’s food.

That sneaky bastard. All these years, he’d encouraged Mom’s food making. And all along he’d been hiding it in various newspapers he read during meals. Here we suffered through Mom’s experiments and he threw his out.

Maybe I ought to take more of an interest in the news too.

***

My legs pressed against my chest, I rested my chin on my knees and stared at the rose bushes. Drake dropped into the swing next to me.

“So, do you want to tell me why you and Trey aren’t talking anymore?” he said.

“It’s complicated.” I played with my shoelace.

“Try me. Because it sucks not being able to have my sister and my best friend in the same room, especially when we have the same circle of friends.”

With a sigh, I glanced at him. “I-I did something stupid.”

“As in?”

I went on to explain the whole kissing thing and my muddled attempt at trying to win Trey. When I finished, I wiped tears from my eyes.

Drake chuckled.

“It’s not funny.”

“No. But the extremes you went to try and chase Portia off are. Any guy would be lucky to have a girl like him enough to do that.”

“Except the guy I was doing it for.”

“Well, it explains why he hasn’t been over much lately.” He put an arm around me and kicked the swing into motion. “You know, you could still go to prom. You could hang out with me, Kenadi, and Chloe.”

“I’m not really feeling it. Plus, I’ve got Dwarves of Iconia II to traverse through.”

“The Delyla Denson I know would show up looking hot and dance with everyone. She’d show all the guys that she doesn’t need them.”

I smiled. “Thanks. But I’m serious. I’d rather just stay home.”

“Okay. Thought I’d at least try.”

“Kenadi put you up to it, didn’t she?” My brows raised.

“Nope. This was all your big brother.”

When he left, I went back in the house and up to my room. Inside, I found Jimbo with my pillow.

“No. Bad dog.” I grabbed it from him. My nose wrinkled as I took my pillow case off. “You are not allowed to do that to any of my stuff.” And like that, Jimbo was back to his old self.

Chapter 35

Mom and Dad went with Drake over to Chloe’s house to get prom pictures, since this would be both my brother’s first and last prom. They’d invited me to come along, but I kind of wanted to let them have their moment.

Besides, I didn’t want to listen to everyone telling me how I could still go to prom. Even if I didn’t have a date. I bet prom was overrated anyway. My flannel PJ pants tucked under my feet as I went into the kitchen to grab a bowl of chips. I set my video game case on the counter, poured a glass of pop, then snagged the bag of chips from the cupboard.

Jimbo’s nails clicked on the hardwood as he came in to see what I was doing.

“Don’t worry, boy. I’ll share.” With my goodies in one hand and my new game in the other, I headed toward the stairs. Before I could descend into the nether regions of the family room, a knock sounded on the door.

I groaned, set my stuff on the coffee table and rushed into the living room. “Come on. I just want to play my game.”

Jimbo barked as another knock sounded.

“Coming,” I hollered. When I jerked the door open, my mouth gaped in surprise. C.C. stood on my stoop, in a tux. His lanky frame looked more filled out. His red hair was styled in a faux hawk. The blue in his vest brought out his eyes. He actually looked nice.

“Get ready. You’re going to prom with me,” he said, pushing inside.

“Um—what?”

“Liza got sick and I’m dateless. Please don’t make me go alone.”

“But I had plans.” I waved to my bowl of chips, which at the moment Jimbo was getting into, and the video game on the coffee table.

“Yeah, I see that.” He wrinkled his nose as he stared at my pajamas. “But I’m serious. I can’t miss senior prom. I’ve already missed out on every other dance.”

Geez, he was good. Guilt set in. Here I’d been the one pressing the guys about prom and now he might miss his. “Fine. But, just so you know, we’re not kissing or anything.”

“Promise.” He raised his hand.

I ran up to my room, plugged in my hot rollers, then headed down to my mom’s closet to find shoes. My gaze shifted over various shelves until I found a pair of silver strappy ones. Back in my room, I emptied my makeup bag onto my vanity, then tore off my pajamas. With a smile, I ran my fingers over the light blue dress. My prom dress. The satin material slid over my body like cool waves. I adjusted the spaghetti straps and stared at the white lace overlay, which swished at my ankles like waves when I turned. The fabric seemed almost iridescent when the light caught it just right. It was fitted across the chest, down to my hips, where it tapered out like a ballerina’s dress.

I sprayed my hair with hairspray then put in the hot rollers. Next, I applied my makeup, put on some perfume, then slid into my shoes. Lastly, I fastened a pair of teardrop sapphire earrings and matching necklace, before I took the rollers out of my hair.