Holding On (35 page)

“Maybe,” Willow said noncommittally.

I shrugged. “I’m not even sure I want to go. Maybe I won’t.” The Valentine’s dance was our winter formal. It used to be around Christmas time but too many parents complained about the cost so close to the holiday season. Now it’s in February and a semi-formal instead of a full-blown formal.

Supposedly
.

Most girls went all out anyway.

It took me a bit to realize silence had filled Jamie’s bedroom.

“Oh, no. You’re not pulling that,” Jamie told me. “You
are
going. We’ll find someone for you.”

Find
someone for me? That just sounded bad. Like a pity date or something.

“You know, maybe skipping it isn’t such a bad idea,” Willow decided.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean for
you
to skip it!” I didn’t want her to miss out because of me. Because I might not be going. “You love this kind of thing. Just because I might not be able to find a date doesn’t mean I want you to miss it.”

“Who said it’s because of you?” she asked in a teasing tone. “It just seems silly to go and spend that much money when you aren’t even going with someone you really want to go with.”

“So who do you really want to go with?” I wondered.

“No one,” she said. “That’s the problem.”

Apparently, Willow was in between crushes at the moment. Not unusual for her. She kept herself pretty busy with her crazy knitting fetish and working for her parents.

“Are you both delusional?” Jamie demanded. “There is no way I’m letting you miss this. You’re going. Both of you,” she said as she jabbed a finger at each of us.

She, of course, had a date. She had Evan. They’d started dating at the beginning of the year. Not that I begrudged her or anything for it. I just didn’t want to think about it. Used to be…
I
was the one that never had to worry about finding a date.

I decided to not worry about it right then. It wasn’t like the dance was the following weekend or anything. Instead, I kept quiet as I watched them work. Willow definitely took after her parents with her creative abilities. I watched, envious of her.

I kept hoping someday I’d discover a hidden talent. But I if I had one, I knew it was buried pretty deep. I spent most of my spare time reading. And obviously, reading isn’t a talent.

It’s an obsession.

There was a knock on the partially opened door and Tristan poked his head in.

“Mom just called. I’m supposed to remind you it’s your night to make dinner,” Tristan told her.

Jamie’s face fell into a pout. “Why can’t you make dinner?” she demanded.

“Ah, because she asked me to go shovel the sidewalks,” he told her. “Do you want to trade?”

“No,” Jamie told him.

“Didn’t think so,” he replied. His gaze slid over me for a second. At first I was surprised. Then I realized it was possibly because
he
felt me watching
him
. Why I was doing that, I wasn’t sure. He gave me a smile before he shut the door and disappeared again.

Willow had a smug look on her face. “There’s the answer to your problem, right there.”

“No,” Jamie said without even looking up. “I’m not spending the night hanging out with my brother. It’s just not happening. I don’t care how good of friends he and Britta are. We’ll get someone else to go with her,” she said decisively.

Before I could respond, Willow was diving into the conversation again.

“Come on,” she pushed as she smirked at Jamie. “They might have fun. I mean, it’s obvious that boy’s had a crush on her forever. Or at least ever since he realized why boys and girls wear different bathing suits.”

Jamie scowled at her. “Tristan doesn’t even date!”

“That’s not exactly true,” Willow countered.

Jamie narrowed her eyes at our friend. “What do you mean?”

“He dated Stacie Fredrickson for a while,” Willow told her.

“No he didn’t,” Jamie scoffed.

“Yes,” Willow argued, “he did. I know it for a fact.”

“When?” she asked. She was clearly not convinced.

“Last fall.” Willow placed her knitting needles in her lap as Jamie closed the bottle of nail polish she’d just finished with. They both looked like they meant business.

“How do you even know if that’s true?” Jamie demanded as she got up to put the nail polish back in the basket on her dresser. “And if it is true, why am I just hearing about it now?” she demanded. She balled her hands up and wedged them into her hips.

Willow smiled knowingly. “It is true. Stacie was late for volleyball practice one night. Coach Ericson sent me to look for her. I found her under the bleachers. She and Tristan were—”

“Stop!” Jamie held up her hand in a halting motion as she let out a sound of disgust. “Stop right there!”

“And
that
,” Willow said with a satisfied grin, “is why I didn’t tell you about it.”

Willow and I burst into giggles at that.  Jamie shot us both warning looks. Willow had told
me
all about it. We both knew this was exactly the kind of reaction Jamie would have to it. Therefore, we’d both decided it would be best if it just never got brought up.

Jamie shook her head, ignoring both of us. “It’s irrelevant. Britta can do so much better than my brother. I mean, she’s not
desperate
for a date. Not yet anyway.”

It bothered me when she talked about Tristan that way. But I’d decided long time ago it was a sibling rivalry thing. Or maybe just a flat-out sibling thing. I wouldn’t know, being an only child and all.

“I wish you wouldn’t say that,” I told her. “I mean, I get he’s your brother and you two don’t really get along. But if he wasn’t, you wouldn’t talk about him like that.”

She shrugged. “You don’t know that.”

After that, Jamie worked at keeping the conversation far, far away from her brother. She started rattling off plans for the dance we may or may not all be attending. The afternoon passed quickly and a short while after Willow’s mom came to get her, I decided I should start for home, too.

“Do you have to leave already? If you go, that means I’ll have to start dinner.” She was awfully close to pouting.

That was exactly why I needed to go. If I didn’t leave soon, I’d end up helping her with dinner. I knew this from past experience.

“Yeah, I should,” I said as I got up. “We have bags of stuff to put away from this morning.” Mom had probably already put the majority of it away. But I kept that to myself as Jamie followed me out of her room.

“Willow has to work tomorrow, but you can come over if you want,” Jamie told me as we made our way down the steps.

“Maybe,” I agreed. My mom had planned on going into her office, too. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hang out with Jamie or not. I’d gotten a nice stack of books for Christmas and I was anxious to dive into them.

I heard Tristan’s door open behind us and then I heard his footsteps following us down.

“See you later,” Jamie said.

“Bye,” I told her as she disappeared into the kitchen.

I stuffed my feet into my boots and noticed Tristan was doing the same. I raised my eyebrows at him.

“It’s almost dark out,” he stated. “I’m walking you home.”

Sweet thought but, “I walk here all the time, Tristan. It’s not that far.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t say it was far. I said it was
dark
. Big difference,” he said as he gave a lock of my hair a tug. “So you can just agree to let me walk with you. Or you can argue and I’ll just follow along behind you like some creepy stalker.”

“Let him go the creepy stalker route,” Jamie said from the doorway that led into the kitchen. “It’s what he usually does.” She smirked at him and he ignored her as he pulled his coat out of the closet.

She wasn’t serious. Was she? Did Tristan usually follow me home? Doubtful. She was just trying to annoy him. He had his back to me so I couldn’t tell if it had worked.

“Fine,” I said with a laugh as he shoved his arms into his jacket. “Please, walk me home.”

“See you later Brit,” Jamie called from the kitchen. I heard her banging around, starting dinner as I zipped up my coat.

When we stepped outside, I realized Tristan was right. It was pretty dark. This far out of town, we didn’t have streetlights. Just the good old-fashioned light from the moon and stars. The temperature had dropped significantly, too. I shivered despite my sweater, bulky jacket, thick boots and gloves. I stuffed my hands into my pockets for added warmth. I scrunched up my shoulders because frigid air was creeping down the neck of my coat. I really ought to wear a hat and scarf. The cute, cream set that Willow had made me for Christmas would’ve been good to bring along.

He cleared his throat slightly as our boots crunched down on the snow. Things with Tristan had always been easy. But lately…things seemed different. I couldn’t exactly say how. They just were. I realized it had started when Corey and I ended. They weren’t awkward or tense…just
different
in a way I couldn’t quite comprehend.

We talked about nothing in particular as we walked. Once we rounded the curve in the road, my house was in plain sight. I almost told Tristan he’d walked me far enough. But then I wondered if that would be rude. I didn’t want him to think I was dismissing him or trying to get rid of him. And I wasn’t. So I didn’t say anything. I decided if he’d wanted to turn around, he would’ve. So I let him continue to walk me, unnecessarily, down my driveway.

“You know,” he said as we reached my front steps, “it’s not like I meant to listen in or anything. But Jamie’s door was open. And you guys talk kind of loud. My bedroom is right across the hall…” He shrugged apologetically. I cringed, replaying everything we’d talked about earlier. I was fairly certain that by the time we’d started talking about him, he’d shut Jamie’s door to give us some privacy. “So I was just wondering…” He paused and let out a breath. The air was so chilly that his exhalation came out in a frosty puff. “I mean, I guess I wanted to ask you…”

My head was spinning with possibilities of where this was leading. I was pretty sure I knew by the way he was hesitating. I frantically began thinking of a way to steer the conversation to something else without seeming obvious. I couldn’t think of an easy way to do that. I also knew I should stop him before it was—

“The Valentine’s dance,” he finally managed to get out.

Too late.

I’d hesitated and now it was too late to stop the question from coming. Only, it wasn’t a question. Not yet. It had come out sounding like more of a statement. Regardless, it seemed pretty obvious to me where he must be going with this. I instantly started trying to manufacture a reasonable excuse to decline. The only thing I could come up with was Jamie. She wouldn’t be happy about this. Not at all. 

At least, not if threats of rotting corpses were any indication.

“You know, I could be your back-up plan,” he said as we reached my front porch. “Like Grant always is for Willow. I just…well, the offer is there.” Mom had left the outside light on for me. Tristan’s face was fully illuminated as he gave me an embarrassed shrug. His eyes darted away from mine as he looked out into the darkened tree line that skirted our yard.

“My back-up plan?” I parroted. I wasn’t expecting him to say
that
. I also wasn’t expecting the slight twinge of…Disappointment? Is that what I was feeling? It couldn’t be. That was a complication I didn’t need. I shook my head at the thought. Tristan mistook it as a refusal to his offer.

“You’re right,” he said. He scrunched up his face, clearly wishing he’d never brought it up. “That was a stupid idea. Besides, you’re not going to need a back-up plan. Corey is a moron. You’ll be dating someone else in no time. Or he’s going to be on his knees begging you to take him back,” he said with a small laugh. The laugh held no humor.

I shrugged. “I really don’t
want
him back.” The more I said it, the easier it was becoming to believe it. Of course, it also probably helped that Christmas vacation meant I had been at home for the past week. Not at school where he was thrown in my path multiple times every day.

Tristan, however, didn’t look so sure. “Really?” he asked. His eyebrows were raised and questioning. His dark eyes were searching mine. His expression had turned uncomfortably serious. “Because for a while there…”

He let the statement fade away. I was grateful because I knew where he was going with it. For a while, I’d been a wreck. An embarrassingly emotional, broken-hearted, depressed wreck. I didn’t like to think about it. I really didn’t want to have it pointed out to me, either.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t
want
to want him. That has to count for something. Right?”

I was pretty sure I’d been in love with Corey. And I thought he’d been in love with me, too. I was sure of it, actually. But someone should’ve reminded me that high-school romances expire sooner rather than later. Looking back, it should’ve been obvious to me. But I’d naively thought things were going well. I had been wrong. Definitely not the first time and surely not the last, either.