Fall For Me (2 page)

Well … okay,
I
cared. But there didn’t seem to be anything I could do about it. When Riley gave me the job here everyone thought I was getting preferential treatment, and I guess I was. But not for the reasons they thought. Riley was just trying to help out his best friend’s girlfriend because her dad recently died and her family’s financial situation was hosed. Also, Riley’s Mom had died when he was young—so he sort of understood how messed up things were when you lose a parent.

So anyway, yeah, I went back to work. And I worked hard. All week, and the next. And the tips were good, great even. Sad to say, but waitressing was my thing. I was way better at it than any sport I ever played. Plus, waitressing turned out to be a release for me. My dad just died and my boyfriend spent all his time with a bimbo, but at work I was so busy I didn’t have time to think about it. So, work was nice, mind-numbing.

Friday evening my mind was so numb, I jumped when my co-worker, Megan, tugged at my arm.

“Oh sorry, Zoey—just trying to get your attention.” For once she sounded nice, friendly even. “I was wondering if you could, maybe, close for me tonight?”

Oh, so that explained her non-hostility—she needed a favor.

“Um.” I thought about it a moment, trying to decide. Of course on the one hand, I was free since Finn had a work-thing tonight and I could totally use the extra money. On the other, Megan was a witch and I didn’t want to do her any favors. I mean, she was
mean
to me. Still, in the end, the need for money won out.

“Sure,” I said at last. “I’ll close.”

“Thanks! I owe you.”

She ran off looking relieved and non-witch-like. And really, I didn’t mind closing the restaurant. It was just a lot of cleaning, and I was a pro at cleaning. I did it all the time at home, constantly—only there I didn’t get paid for it.

When the restaurant was finally devoid of customers, I locked the door and cranked up my music on the restaurant’s loud speakers. It was basically blaring, but that’s the way I like it. Loud music helps me work faster.

I was almost finished cleaning the salad station when my music suddenly turned off and only moments later, Riley rounded the corner, then froze. “Oh. It’s you.”

It was the first time he’d actually spoken to me since my fight with Porcha.

I grimaced, then gritted my teeth. “Nice to see you too.”

“No. I just mean—what happened to Megan?”

Of course he had scheduled Megan to close with him rather than me—anyone but me.

I put away the last of the pies. “Something came up, I guess. She needed me to close.” I shut the fridge, then noticed two more banana creams and tried squeezing them in. “Don’t worry,” I said gruffly. “I’ll stay out of your way. I’m almost done.”

Riley gave me a look. “You’re not in my way, Jones.”

“Whatever. I know you would have scurried out if you knew it was me here. So, you can go. Don’t worry about it. I can lock up.”

Riley was silent a moment. “You sure?”

Ugh! He was willing to do that? Really?

Really???

“Sure,” I grumbled, planning to keep quiet, not say more. But these days that didn’t seem to be my thing. These days I couldn’t keep quiet. “Why do you hate me so much? What is it about me?”

He was silent for a long time. Then he said softly, “I don’t hate you, Jones.”

“Oh come on, Riley. Look, don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal to me—not anymore. But admit it, you do avoid me—all the time. You always have.”

“I don’t avoid you.”

“Ha! Shall we look at the schedule—again? Is there a day on it that we close together? Has there ever been a day on it that we closed together? No Riley, there isn’t. And you have me down to work lunch when you work dinners, and me working nights when you work lunch.”

“Okay, Jones, the schedule—”

“No, Riley, it’s more than the schedule. You avoid me at all costs. You always have. Even back in junior high—when Finn and I started dating. Any time I came around, you took off. And once we were in high school—” I held back a sob, forgetting where I’d left off, but still rambling on, letting my frustrations spill out all over the kitchen. “Finn and I have been together for over four years. Four years! And how many times have you actually been inside my house—maybe three? You meet Finn for band practices or have him over for poker, you give my little brother rides places ‘cause you used to be his hockey coach—but you never
ever
come to my house—not even when Finn invites you specifically. Not for dinners, not for guitar, not for parties—even when it’s really Finn’s party—just at my house.”

Riley nodded, like he understood what I was getting at, so I went on, because there was more. Tons. Like: He’d leave whenever I sang with his band, and he wouldn’t let me go to “the guys” poker nights—though okay, maybe that one was more Finn’s doing than Riley’s as my boyfriend had serious gambling issues. But whatever. The list went on and on.

“Okay, Jones,” he said at last. “I’m sorry. Yeah, okay, I avoided—
avoid
you, but it’s not for the reason you’re thinking. It’s the total opposite of what you’re thinking.”

I rolled my eyes. “What, you’re saying you avoid me because you
like
me so much?”

“Yeah.” He set his jaw, his dark eyes locked on mine. “Right. Exactly.”

My heart ricochet off my rib cage.

I would have laughed, like it was a joke or something, only he wasn’t laughing. Or joking. His eyes looked all tortured and hurting. So, my heart sort of fell to the floor. Like my jaw. And I didn’t know what to say, and he wasn’t saying anything, so we just sort of stood there, not saying anything.

But he couldn’t really be serious.

Could he?

I tilted my head. “But you used to put cornflakes in my snow boots, and—write me mean notes.”

“What? When we were ten?” He rubbed his face, looking away. “I was frustrated, Jones. You were in love with my best friend—you wouldn’t even look at me.”

His gaze flickered from my eyes to the bucket I was holding, then back to my face. “You can go home now if you want.”

“But, I’m not done.” I gestured about the messy kitchen.

“I’ll finish.”

“But you’re the boss.”

“Jones … go home.”

So, I went home. But I didn’t sleep, couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about Riley, about how tormented he had seemed when I questioned him about liking me.
Yeah. Right. Exactly.
And I kept thinking about his eyes, how they had been so full of want. Or had I imagined that? It was hard to tell.

I’d always had a secret “thing” for Riley. Always. Even when we were kids. But he had always been so mean to me. So, I never admitted it to anyone, not even myself, that I kind of wanted him, sort of bad. And when he would show me random acts of kindness I’d always chalked it up to his being friends with Finn. And when Riley’s kindness would, at times, seem sort of romantic, well, I’d always chalked that part up to my imagination and secret, unevaluated feelings for him. After all, the guy avoided me, at all costs.

So, now, this new insight—it was exciting. And unsettling. It had me all agitated, tossing and turning. And feeling guilty. Because Finn was my boyfriend—and he was sweet and thoughtful and wonderful—an awesome boyfriend. Ugh, that is until this summer. He wasn’t so much these days.

Still, he was my boyfriend and so, well, I didn’t like being so excited by the possibility that Riley might be into me—even if he
was
smokin’ hot and smelled yummy.

Finally, I groaned, reaching for my guitar. I had a solo I’d been working on all week. I figured it was better to stress over that, than Riley. Still, even as I played, I couldn’t get Riley’s eyes or words out of my head.
Yeah. Right. Exactly.

Riley actually liked me. Wow!

But he was taken too … sort of. Not exactly, though. He and Ava had a stormy relationship that wasn’t exactly a relationship at all. She had an older boyfriend that had gone away to college two years ago—she kind of stringed both guys along, not really ever choosing either of them—flaunting each guy in the other’s face.

But she was a challenge for Riley. He seemed to like that—the challenge. He was very into Ava. And, this summer, she seemed totally into him too. Seemed.

Still, whenever my little brother and sister would drag me and Finn to Riley’s for a dip in his hot tub (okay, they didn’t exactly have to drag us, he had a
beach
house after all), Ava would give us dirty looks and leave.

“She’s busy,” Riley would always say, and leave it at that whenever Finn asked why Ava was always storming out when we came. But Riley would usually stick around anyway and play with the kids, let us use his hot-tub and the coveted extra parking spot at his house, right on the beach.

He didn’t hang around me—not at all, ever—but he did Finn and the kids. I bugged him—not the kids. They made him laugh.

See, like I said, Riley’s mom died when he was ten, so he sort of felt a kinship to my little brother and sister, since they recently lost a parent too. He spoiled them rotten. It was so sweet—and they totally took advantage of it, making Riley take them places and buy them things. But he didn’t seem to mind. Like I said, he seemed to love them. It was so sweet. It melted my heart.

Ugh! My brain seriously needed to stop with the Riley-love-fest. Now. Seize, seize,
seize
!

Finally, I put down my guitar and snatched my cell phone from my nightstand, texting Finn. Normally, we’d be out together on a Friday night, or snuggling on my couch watching a movie. But tonight there had been some sort of fund-raiser event for some organization and they rented out the community pool, meaning Finn had to work. That’s why I’d closed for Megan tonight, since I had absolutely zero plans.

Still at work?
I texted.

Finn texted back almost immediately.
Nope. You?

No. Riley closed up for me.

Oh man. If I had known you were off I’d have invited you along. Me and some people from work are at Luigie’s getting pizza. Want to come?

Ugh. My stomach was suddenly twisting in knots. “People” from work no doubt meant Bianca. Probably other people too. But still, grrrr!

No thanks
, I texted, so not wanting to hang with him when Bianca was around—hanging
on
him. I mean, what could I do about her and her obvious desire for my boyfriend? Glare at her all night? Fight with Finn about it? Been there, done them, many times. Both were useless. And both made me feel nauseas. I wasn’t up for hurling.
I’m already in bed.

Oh. Want me to swing by after this? Tuck you in?

Why? So I can chew you out for liking another girl—start crying?

No thanks. Going to sleep.

We texted a little more, but when we were done, I didn’t feel any better and I still couldn’t sleep.

***

The next day, Finn was all pale and distracted as we played around on our guitars in his basement. I was using his guitar, because I loved his guitar and I wanted it—lusted after it.

We were supposed to be working on a new song for his band, but his brain was so not there. It was frustrating and made me uneasy, keep clutching at my stomach.