Life in the No-Dating Zone (16 page)

Twenty-Eight

Gray

I couldn’t believe she was just standing there like nothing was wrong. Like we hadn’t just caught her making out with Sean Freaking Hatcher. Could she have picked a worse guy to hook up with? I closed the glass door, then took off. I was afraid of what I might say or do, because all I really wanted was to give her a good shake.

And that feeling was weirding me out. Why did I feel so protective of Claire? She obviously wasn’t hurt—Hatcher hadn’t gotten far enough to cause any problems. Or maybe it wouldn’t have bothered her. I didn’t know. But it was a seriously irritating thought.

Her flip-flops snapped as she tripped along beside me, but I wasn’t slowing down. I couldn’t wait to drop her off, to be alone so I could think.

“Are we in a hurry?” she asked, sounding a little out of breath.

I figured the easiest thing to do was lie—it probably wouldn’t be cool to tell her I couldn’t wait to get rid of her. “Kinda. I want to get to my mom’s place by eleven or so. She’s less likely to give me trouble if I get back early.”

“Oh, okay.”

We made it to the car in two minutes. When the doors shut us inside, muffling the sounds of the party, I gripped my seat belt like it was a lifeline. This was a huge mistake. I should’ve come up with an excuse, made Sam wait so he’d have to take Claire home. Because now we were in our own private space, and there was nothing stopping me from yelling my head off at her. Except she might never speak to me again.

Crap
. My hand actually shook on the stick shift. I had to do something. Bring up a topic that had nothing to do with what had happened at the party. I eased the car onto the road.
Think, Gray, think.

Claire twisted toward me like she was about to start talking. I had to stop her—had to be in control of the conversation. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “So you ready for school next week?”

She let out a surprised laugh—the kind you use when you think the other person is completely clueless. “Really, Gray? Really?”

I squeezed the steering wheel hard. Maybe
it
had some conversational ideas. “What?”

“That’s what you’re gonna go with?”

I could salvage this. I could. “Um, yeah. You know, school starts next week and—”

“That sounded like a question my mother would ask me.”

“Okay, then. What’s your schedule like?”
Better, that was better.

“Fine, I guess. Why?”

I flipped down the left blinker and stopped at a red light.
Don’t make eye contact. She’ll know you’re making this up on the fly.
“Just wondering if we’re in any of the same classes.”

“We’re both juniors. Chances are pretty good.”

The light changed and I pulled out. “So what’s your schedule?”

She huffed out an irritated noise. “I don’t have it memorized.”

I chanced a look over at her. She’d pursed her lips in a perturbed expression as if she thought she really
should
have it memorized and was mad she hadn’t done it. My grip on the steering wheel relaxed.
There
was the Claire I had so much fun with.

“Watch the road!” she said.

And there was the bossy one. “I am.”

“Why are we even talking about this?”

I laughed. “Because you’re a backseat driver.”

“No. About school. We’ve just been to a party so you could be around Lindsey. I need an update.”

Uh-oh. I walked right into that one
. I tried, I seriously tried, but the only things I could think to say would all lead to her asking about Lindsey kissing me. Which she was probably going to do anyway. But I really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not with Claire. And that didn’t make sense, because most of what Claire and I talked about
was
Lindsey.

So I just drove in silence, my neck muscles getting tighter by the second. Amazingly, she made it a full minute without speaking.

“So, how did everything go?”

“Fine.”

She let out a breathy sound. Might’ve been a sigh. Might’ve been a laugh. “Come on, Gray. When I left, y’all were in a pretty tight lip-lock. That has to be good, right?”

Her voice had the fake enthusiasm that was a sure sign of Claire-nerves. Hmm. Why would she be nervous? Maybe she realized asking me about the kiss was kind of personal. Or that saying “lip-lock” might bring up the Sean Hatcher make-out session. Either way, having Claire nervous could only be good for me in the conversation. I needed to downplay the whole Lindsey kiss thing. Because really, she
had
been out of it. “She was drunk, Claire. It meant nothing.”

“Didn’t look like it meant nothing.”

Her voice came out just a hint above a whisper and there was some emotion in it I’d never heard before. I glanced at her, hoping for a clue, but she was staring out the side window. I didn’t know what the feeling was—whoever did with girls?—but the ache of guilt I’d felt over kissing Lindsey rumbled back to life.

I accelerated past a slow-moving sedan, my hand clenched on the gearshift so tight I could’ve ripped it off. Who was Claire to say whether a kiss meant something or not? She hadn’t even stayed around long enough to judge for herself. No, she’d run into the house to make out with one of the biggest a-holes Eastridge High School had ever produced. They’d probably set up the meeting ahead of time.

The pain in my gut disappeared. Instead, the urge to shake Claire came back. Sweat broke out on my palms. I wiped it off on my shorts.
Don’t talk. Don’t even open your mouth.
Nothing good can come of it.
I sped down the boulevard, counting the streetlights as the car’s front bumper met each light’s amber circle. I was all the way up to twenty when Claire tapped my forearm.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing. Why?” Almost to her subdivision. Thank God.

“Look, I’m sorry if I crossed a line by asking you about Lindsey, but we talk about her all the time.” She paused for so long I thought she was finished. But, no. “I guess I didn’t think the kiss would be so private to you.”

Was your kiss private to you?
I exhaled heavily before I spoke. “You didn’t cross a line.”

She cocked her head, her dark hair hanging like a curtain. “Why don’t I believe you?”

There was an opening for an insult if I’d ever heard one, but I wasn’t going there. I braked for a red light, immediately willing it to change. It ignored me. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold out. “Everything’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Why do you have to be so pushy?”

“It’s part of my charm,” she said in a sickly sweet tone.

“Not really charming,” I muttered.

“Did Lindsey do something you’re not telling me? You shouldn’t take her so seriously. Sometimes she says harsh things without realizing how bad they sound.”

The light changed and I peeled out.

Twenty-Nine

Gray

Claire grabbed the dashboard. “Whoa! Slow down!”

I only had three more blocks to her subdivision, then what? Four turns? Five? And then freedom. If I could just drop her off without saying something I might regret, I’d consider the night a win.

“Agh!” she said. “Now I’m positive something’s wrong.”

“Why?” I asked without thinking. Too busy counting streets.

“Because you never drive like this. At least you haven’t when I’ve been with you.”

And before I could stop myself, I showed my teeth and said, “Well, it’s a new day, isn’t it?”

A look of surprise, along with something else, passed over her face. I yanked my attention back to the road, shutting off the desire to apologize. Good, the left turn into her neighborhood was just ahead.

She sucked in a loud breath. “Okay, Mr. Snark, Lindsey obviously hurt your feelings. What happened?”

No,
you
hurt my feelings.
What the—? Where had that come from? Claire hadn’t hurt me. She’d just been stupid. Geez, I needed to go to sleep and get all of this out of my head. Of course, it’d probably follow me into my dreams.

“Gray?”

I shook my head, both to clear it and to answer her. “Nothing happened.” We turned into her subdivision. A weight lifted from my chest. Almost there. Almost there.

I thought I’d made it. I really did. Claire didn’t say anything else all the way to her house. But when I pulled over and started to say goodbye, she drew up a knee and turned completely toward me.
Say good night. Or see ya. Something. Anything.
But my words seemed to be pitching a tent in my throat.

She put a hand on my arm. “I know Lindsey can be a pain sometimes, but she really cares about people. More than she shows. I don’t know what happened, but if you want to talk about it … you know I’m here.”

Sweet words. Caring words. Words that set off what looked like a video game firestorm in my brain. If Claire had stayed with us instead of running off to Hatcher, she wouldn’t have to ask. She’d know how drunk Lindsey was, she’d know about the tears. About the fact that Lindsey was clearly hung up on Adam. Claire could’ve been sweet and comforting when it all went down, but instead she’d chosen to be inside sucking face with—

I took my foot off the clutch. The car jerked and died. I yanked up the parking brake, then took in Claire’s wide-eyed stare. Blood pounded in my temples. I couldn’t keep the words inside anymore. I leaned forward, careful not to get too close, not to touch her. Because even though I had the impulse to, I really
didn’t
want to shake her. She folded her arms across her chest like she was trying to protect herself. I hesitated. For about three seconds. But the firestorm flared and I let loose, each word like a missile.

“You want to know what happened? Lindsey and I kissed. And yeah, it was great. And over really quick, because she started crying. It would’ve been nice if you’d been there to help.” Claire opened her mouth, but I held up a hand. “Obviously you were
busy.
The rest of us figured we’d better get her home and then she felt sick and then we ran into her brother who wanted to know where you were—a really good question, by the way—so then we had to go look for you.

“And what did we find? You playing kissy-face with Sean
Effing
Hatcher! Yeah, you’re right to be surprised. Who would’ve thought practical Claire Gardner would go for such a douche? I know
I
was surprised. But yup, there you were kissing—”

“You’ve established that,” she said, her voice hard and foreign-sounding.

“Sean Hatcher, who has slept with at least half of the girls in his graduating class—”

“That sounds like a rumor.”

“And is at least four years older than you are.”

I ran out of missiles. I waited to see if she’d launch a counterattack, but she just scowled, one of her hands clenching and unclenching. After about ten seconds, she spoke. “I wasn’t going to sleep with him.”

I sat back. “That has to be the most naïve thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“And that’s the most chauvinistic thing I’ve ever heard
you
say.”

“Nice. Play the chauvinist card.”

I couldn’t even describe the range of emotions crossing Claire’s face. “Congratulations,” she said. “You’ve succeeded at pissing me off.”

“Great. Now will you tell me why you were making out with a douchebag?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“Maybe not, but you ought to think about it. You know, for the future.”

She stared at me like she couldn’t believe I’d said that. In fact, I couldn’t believe it either. I mean, I’d made my point already, but something in me just didn’t want to let it go. Like I wanted to punish her or something.

“When did you turn into such a jackass?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Probably around the time you were exchanging saliva—”

“Stop,” she said through her teeth. She released the seat belt with a jab of her thumb on the button, then pulled keys out of her shorts pocket. She opened the car door, stuck one leg out, but then turned back. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal of this. It wasn’t like I planned it.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and she fiddled with the bead on her necklace. “I was just sitting there. He sat next to me and he kissed me, and you know what? He was a perfect gentleman the whole time.”

I took her by the shoulders before I could stop myself, causing her to pull her leg back in the car. The door clicked shut. “Don’t you get it? That’s how guys like that operate.”

“You don’t think I can take care of myself?”

“It’s not a matter of whether you can take care of yourself. It’s a matter of degrees … ” I stopped talking because I forgot what I was going to say. My brain got sidetracked receiving the tactile messages from my fingers. Soft skin. Really soft. Well, duh. Girl equals soft.

“Degrees of what?” she asked, sounding more confused than angry.

I could easily slide my hands up her neck and onto her face to see if the skin there was just as soft. I already knew her lips were soft. But I hadn’t touched them with mine yet. And just thinking that made it seem inevitable—
Holy crap!
I was thinking about kissing Claire.

And it wasn’t just an idle “I wonder what it’d be like to kiss that girl” kind of thing.

I really wanted to kiss Claire Gardner.

My friend Claire. Who made me laugh and bossed me around. Who was helping me with
Lindsey
.

All the air got sucked out of the car. I grabbed my calf, pretending to have a cramp. “Yaah!”

“What’s the matter?”

“Cramp.”

“Oh. Can I do anything?”

Yeah, right. Rub my leg, please. That’ll help. Just freaking get out of the car.
“No, it’ll be okay in a sec.”

“Okay … guess I should go.”

Yes, please
. “All right.”

She patted me on the upper arm like I was an old war veteran. “Don’t worry about Sean, okay? I’m sure I won’t be seeing him anymore.”