Living Backwards (35 page)

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Authors: Tracy Sweeney

BOOK: Living Backwards
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I tried on three different outfits, flinging the discarded options onto the floor as I switched to something new. Megan had left for Nate’s earlier in the day so I had no one to tell me what looked good and what made me look like a hooker. I was pretty sure Luke was anti-hooker. I finally chose a sweater that was tight, but not salacious, and a pair of jeans that were fitted, but not obscene.

On the way to Danielle’s, I stopped to pick up a bottle of wine. Aside from the glass I had at Luke’s bar on Saturday night, I hadn’t really been drinking at all. Poor Joan sat alone and untouched on my bureau at home. I think I had proven after the prom night fiasco that overindulgence wasn’t particularly helpful in any situation.

As I made my way across the city to Danielle and Josh’s house in Magnolia Park, my nerves began to get the better of me. Maybe I wasn’t reading Luke right at all. I was so sure that he was holding back—sure that despite how cold he acted at first, that he still had feelings for me. After two days without any messages, I wasn’t feeling as certain.

With the wine in hand, I started up the brick walkway, noticing the line of cars out front. It looked like I was probably the last to arrive.
Awesome
.

Taking a deep breath, I rang the doorbell. Josh must have been right near the door because it was opened moments later. As he stepped aside for me to enter, I was able to see right into the living room and hear the laughter filtering out. Directly in my line of sight, I saw Luke, lifting a bottle of beer to his lips and tipping it back. No one should be that sexy just drinking beer.

“Jillian!” Danielle exclaimed as I walked into the room. I chose to focus on her and not scan the room. I couldn’t look up at him yet. I felt like I needed to get my bearings first. She enveloped me in a warm hug.

“Relax,” she whispered in my ear. “He seems nervous, too.”

“This was a bad idea,” I muttered through clenched teeth.

“This was a fantastic idea,” she said softly. “Jillian,” she began, now in a louder voice, “Josh was just talking about the time he almost lit Luke’s jacket on fire in chemistry.”

“Do I have to start all over?” he complained, looking mortified.

“Oh, c’mon,” she replied. “It’s hysterical. I can’t believe you never told us this!”

“Yeah, I wonder why,” he pouted, glaring at Luke, who I assumed had spilled the beans.

Looking across the room, I was finally able to take in his appearance, and immediately wished I hadn’t. When I saw him at the bar on Saturday, I thought I was unable to form proper sentences around him because I could see a hint of chest hair in the opening of his shirt. At Danielle’s opening, I thought it was because the muscles strained underneath the fabric of his arm. But I was wrong. It was just him. Because tonight he was wearing a dark blue jacket with a light color shirt. There was no chest hair and no straining muscles, and I was still incoherent.

“So, I was a little uptight in school,” Josh began.

“A little?” Luke asked, smirking and taking another scandalous sip of his beer.
Well, maybe it wasn’t scandalous, but it felt that way.

“I was nervous about this particular lab because it was going to account for a large portion of our grade,” he explained, ignoring Luke’s remark. “We were supposed to use certain chemical compounds to alter materials and report on the result. Despite his claims to the contrary, Luke was distracted and barely paying attention. When I asked him to pass me the rubbing alcohol, it spilled.”

“Like…a drop,” Luke countered, laughing as Josh scowled. “And Josh was so nervous that we’d get points deducted for wasting chemicals that he cups his hand and tries to sweep the alcohol back into the beaker—in the process, making a trail of rubbing alcohol all over the table.”

“So, we get all of the chemicals prepped, and I’m about to light the burner. Just as I squeeze the spark lighter, I hear a pop. When I look down, the trail of alcohol is on fire and a blue flame is racing across the table. And this one,” he added, pointing at Luke, “is staring off into space, leaning over onto the table completely unaware that the flame is about to reach the arm of his jacket.”

“He lets out this yelp,” Luke interjected, “and I stand up just as the flame would have hit the sleeve.”

“Yeah, Pruitt comes running over to us with water, putting the fire out. Freaking out. I thought I was going to hyperventilate.”

“When did this happen and why wasn’t this story broadcasted to everyone in school?” Megan exclaimed, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.

“Like the last week of classes,” Josh replied. “Luke was suffering from senioritis.”

I looked up and for the first time met Luke’s gaze—his cheeks slightly pink. It was the last week of school and Luke had been distracted. Maybe it was wishful thinking—maybe I was over-estimating what
we
were—but I wondered if I had played a role in their lab disaster. I wondered if maybe Luke had been thinking about us.

“All right, everyone,” Danielle announced, carrying a dish of chicken, broccoli and ziti into the dining room. “Dinner is served! I hope you don’t mind the carbs. We had a request from number fifty-three over here.”

“What can I say,” Nate replied, with a shrug. “I get hungry after games.”

I hung back as Josh, Luke and Nate walked into the dining room, feeling that it would be easier to choose a seat once I knew where Luke would be sitting. I was still feeling uncomfortable and self-conscious. Plus, I didn’t need him seeing pieces of broccoli stuck in between my teeth.

“Relax, Jill,” Megan said as she passed by me. “You look amazing and he almost choked on his beer when you walked in.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment,” I replied, following her into the room.

As she took her place across from Nate, it left only two seats open—the one across from Luke and the one at the head of the table. While I would have liked to convince Danielle that she should sit across from Luke, I didn’t think my reasoning would fly. Hesitantly, I sat down, but kept my eyes trained on the table.

“Well, fortunately, you both made it out of chemistry unscathed,” Danielle said, laughing.

“I wasn’t the one who usually got into a jam,” Josh argued. “This is the kid who evacuated an entire school.”

My heart began hammering in my chest, and I felt like my head was underwater. I blindly stabbed at a piece of broccoli, jamming it into my mouth so that I’d have an excuse not to chime in.

“Yes, for
Joan
,” Nate added. “Whatever happened to poor Joan?”

“Retired,” I deadpanned. “She has a place in Florida now. Weather’s good. Booze is cheap.”

“God, you never went anywhere without that thing,” Megan added, rolling her eyes.

“Seriously, I thought you were going to lose your mind that day,” Danielle said, unaware that I actually
had
lost my mind and had cried like an idiot in the middle of the hallway. Only Luke knew that. Embarrassed, I shot back quickly.

“I did a lot of stupid things back then.”

I hadn’t meant to send any messages to Luke. I honestly was just trying to explain away why I had acted so emotional and crazy that day. I couldn’t tell them that I had time-traveled and fallen in love. Brushing it off was the next best thing, but when I looked up to see Luke studying me curiously, I wasn’t sure I had chosen my words well.

Fortunately, Nate changed the subject, talking about shop class, Megan, and how he wanted to murder every last guy in the room that day.

“I only had eyes for you,” she teased.

“And he certainly had eyes for you. At least part of you,” I added, obviously bypassing my internal filter.

“Ohh!” Josh bellowed. “Are you saying Nate had wandering eyes?”

“Well, that
was
the general idea,” I said casually.

“What do you mean?” Nate asked, looking at me suspiciously.

“I mean I told her to stick out her ass so you could look at it, and you did. Now you’re getting married, and you’re welcome.”

“It was more complicated than that,” Megan countered.

“I can vouch for that,” Luke added, looking at Nate, not me. “
Everything
was complicated.”

“You knew about this?” he asked.

Luke nodded, swallowing his food.

“You seduced me!” Nate gasped, looking at Megan. “That’s so hot.”

“Whore,” Danielle shouted, laughing.

“Who, me?” he asked. “I was a boy scout before Jezebel here led me over to the dark side.”

“You like the dark side,” Megan replied, with a stupid, happy grin.

Their flirtatious banter led to wedding talk. While Megan filled Nate and Josh in on the bridesmaid dress search—something I’m sure they would have rather skipped—I looked surreptitiously at Luke. There was nothing covert about it, though, when I realized he was staring back. He held my gaze for a moment—not smiling, but searching my face for something. I just didn’t know what.

A half-hour later, Nate had consumed a metric ton of pasta and most of our plates were empty. Josh had been reminiscing about how overbearing Danielle was in school.

“Do you remember the top hat?” he asked, glaring at Danielle.

“Dude,
everyone
remembers the top hat,” Nate added.

“I don’t care what you say,” she replied defensively. “It was classy.”


It
was stupid,” Megan countered.

“No, stupid is spiking the punch,” Danielle retorted, narrowing her eyes at Luke.

“No, stupid is
drinking
the punch,” Nate added. That was obviously meant for me.

“Stupid is thinking that no one saw that your shirt was buttoned wrong when you got into the limo,” I shot back.

“Then stupid is disappearing behind the gym with your date and coming back a half-hour later wearing her lipstick.”

“I wasn’t even wearing lipstick,” I argued.

“Oh, snap! I can’t believe you walked into that. I was totally guessing,” he exclaimed, laughing. “Josh, gimme some,” he added, raising his hand up for a high-five.

Again, with my face burning from embarrassment, I glanced over at Luke. This time he wasn’t looking up at me. He was staring at his glass and swirling the liquid around inside. He was a million miles away.

While Danielle brought out pastries and coffee, Nate entertained everyone with his retelling of the Great Race of 1999 where Megan’s sports bra beat him by a hair. Nate cried foul, stating that the sports bra used diversionary tactics to win. Megan felt that it was unfair to have the conversation when the sports bra wasn’t present to defend itself. Josh suggested mediation.

The walk down memory lane was beginning to wear on me, though. It was difficult enough sitting across from Luke—nevermind listening to everyone recount the events that led to my breaking his heart.

“Remember when Wakefield threw up all over that freshman at the bonfire,” Nate asked. He was laughing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. “Poor girl was traumatized.”

I froze when he mentioned the bonfire—images of our night at the cliffs playing in my head. I wanted to look at Luke. I wanted to see that he was affected the same way I was, but I was terrified that he might not even think about it at all.

“I hated the bonfire,” Danielle complained. “And poor Jillian was stuck at home, punished. I so wanted to bail and keep her company.”

Luke let out a rueful laugh. “Yeah. Must have been hard missing out on all the fun,” he added, meeting my gaze.

I doubted that anyone at the table would have noticed the silent exchange between us. I doubted anyone was paying close enough attention, but as he looked up at me through his crazy long lashes, the red tint in his cheeks and atop his ears spoke volumes. He was remembering everything.

“I remember Val was looking everywhere for you that night, Luke,” Danielle added. “It was pretty pathetic.”

“Did you hear what happened to her?” Megan asked, looking excited to share some gossip.

“No, what?” she asked.

“Sarah Spellman told me at the reunion. Well, Val started a consulting business with a girl she met at NYU. So, she starts sleeping with the husband of one of their clients—some socialite. The wife finds out—goes public, giving
Page Six
a full account of how she was wronged. When the news gets out, all of their clients fire them. None of the Upper Eastsiders trusted their husbands around her. The business folded last month. Sarah said she’s moving back to Reynolds.”

Speechless, I remembered the conversation I had with Danielle right before my big accident. Danielle, crying in our living room, saying that she was ready to walk away from the company she worked so hard to build, just to break free of Val. That poor girl who was Val’s business partner—the one whose business was now closed—could have been Danielle.

“Wow,” Danielle replied, dazed. “She mentioned something about going into business together once, but I never followed up with her. Good thing, huh?”

“Lucky break,” I muttered.

“So many train wrecks in our class,” Megan continued. “And there was way too much puke Senior Week. Wakefield at the bonfire. Jillian after the prom. And Karen at Tyler’s party!”

“Oh man,” Nate exclaimed. “The ice luge! You never should’ve left for school early, Jill. That was the best. Luke, man, you missed that, too. Karen had her mouth attached to that luge all night. Wakefield went to carry her to his car and wham! Pukes all over his shoes!”

“Yeah, where were you that night?” Josh asked. “You sort of disappeared after graduation.”

“I was around,” he replied, uncomfortably, suddenly looking at his watch. “Um, I actually think I need to get going.”

“Already?” Danielle pouted. “You can’t stick around a little longer? I promise I won’t make you play Pictionary.”

“Pictionary, wow. No, I mean I have to check in at the bar. Peter—”

“I thought Tuesday was your night off?” she asked, not letting him off the hook. Did she know why he wanted to leave? Did she know that we had hit upon almost every traumatic memory in our short time together? Did she even realize that he was probably dying to run as far away from me as he could get?

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