One of the Guys (20 page)

Loch whispers, “What does she have in here? A dead body?” His breath tickles my skin. I hide my smile.

“Darn,” Shauna shouts as she hops out of the car. Her furry snow boots land on the gravel driveway. “The Mayhews aren't here yet.
Shucks
.”

“Drop the sarcasm,” Mrs. Hamilton singsongs, throwing her arm around Shauna's shoulder. “Sarcasm is not for ladies.”

On the outside, Mrs. Hamilton resembles an older replica of Shauna. Red hair. Light freckles. The jagged gestures of a dictator. However, there's a softness in her that's lacking in her daughter. I wonder if it's true what they say about girls eventually becoming their mothers. Perhaps that softness will emerge from Shauna after graduation.

“OH! MY! GOD! I think I just stepped in rabbit shit!” Shauna hops around as she tries to get a look at the bottom of her shoe. Birds scatter from a nearby tree, the peaceful quiet broken by her shrill screams.

Then again, maybe not. Maybe Shauna will always be Shauna.

Mr. Hamilton, a jolly man with slicked-back hair and long sideburns, moves in next to Loch. “Atta boy,” Mr. Hamilton says, gesturing to the bags in Loch's arms. “Never let a lady carry her own bag.”

Mr. Hamilton walks ahead to the cabin, snow crunching beneath his boots. He deliberately leaves the bags for his daughter's new “boyfriend” to drag inside. Loch gives me a You-Owe-Me-Forever-Look, marking the tenth one since we left Shelburne two hours ago.

It's true. I owe him, but I'm working off my debt. I'm renting myself out this weekend, too. Believe me, I'd much rather be at home watching
Family Guy
reruns.

To pull off the illusion, Shauna's parents need to believe that Loch and Shauna are really an item. The last-minute boyfriend swap must occur often in Shauna's world because her parents accepted it without question. They treat Loch like he's just another one of Shauna's boyfriends to deal with for a weekend, soon to be out of their privileged lives for good.

I, on the other hand, am welcomed with stifling enthusiasm that reeks of familiarity.

“I am so thrilled that Shauna made a female friend this year,” Mrs. Hamilton whispers as she leads me up the walkway to the cabin. She hooks her arm in mine, as if we are dear friends in a Jane Austen novel. “You may not have noticed, but Shauna can be rather intimidating to other girls. It's a jealousy thing, unfortunately. It's nice to see a secure young lady like yourself handle her.”

I look up at the cabin and my breath catches. Camping for the Hamilton family translates to a state-of-the-art cabin complete with cable, Internet, and a hot tub on the balcony. Inside, dead animals hang on the walls above a glistening wooden floor. The scent of pine drifts everywhere.

I stare at the giant deer head above the stone fireplace until Shauna rips me from my reverie. She taps my shoulder and whispers, “I'm not paying you to just stand there.”

Right. I'm on the job.

Shauna isn't thrilled about my attendance this weekend. I think she wanted Loch all to herself, like most girls would, but Loch wouldn't come without me. His sick way of torturing me, I guess. Because I have to be here, Shauna puts me to good use though. She insists I make her look good, popular, and lovely. That I tell stories to her parents about her glory at Winston. This required homework, of course, since making up such massive lies on the spot would be challenging. On the drive up, I told stories of Shauna's imaginary kindness and admiration throughout the halls of Winston, laying it on pretty thick.

While Shauna blabs on about her imaginary relationship to her parents in the kitchen, I check out the various rooms in the cabin. There's a freaking movie theater in the basement! I run my fingers over the leather seats, excited to curl up with a cup of warm cider and watch a flick later. There are
some
perks to this job.

A few minutes later, I find Shauna and Loch organizing the luggage in a Western-themed bedroom upstairs. I notice that my bag is resting next to Shauna's luggage. I stare at my duffel. I stare at the mound of pink suitcases. Horror settles into my chest.

“There's my roommate,” Shauna crows, smiling.

I look at Loch, who appears rather amused by the situation. “And where are you sleeping?” I ask.

“Had to insist on my own room,” he says, tucking his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I'm a terrible snorer.”

“Such a liar.”
I'm the snorer
. Loch sleeps like the dead.

“Isn't that my job though?” Loch asks. “To lie?”

“It's just one night,” Shauna says in a low voice. She glances at the open doorway, nervous. “I'm not thrilled either, Toni. If I sleep alone, Ben could sneak into my room.”

“Have you considered pressing charges against this guy?” I ask. “This sounds like more than an annoying crush.”

Shauna sighs and slips out of her sophisticated yellow jacket. “Okay. Maybe he doesn't sneak into my room, but he probably thinks about it. My parents won't let me sleep in the same room as my boyfriend anyway, real or fake. We have to make them believe you and I are, like, close. The best of girlfriends. Remember?”

She's right. It's all part of the act.
Two. Thousand. Dollars
. I repeat the number in my head to hold onto my slipping sanity. This will all be over soon, and Loch will be one step closer to attending UVM next year.

As Loch exits the room, he squeezes my shoulder. “Remember,” he whispers. “Serial killers can't have perfect nails.”

“Bra. Bra. Bra. Pianist,” I whisper back.

He tenses, reddens, and goes down the hall to his bedroom. Shauna rolls up the sleeves of her black sweater and begins to unpack. She checks her phone every two seconds. “Ryan said he would keep in touch,” she says, tossing her phone on the bed in frustration. “Nothing for the last hour. Not one word. Not even an emoji. Sometimes I don't understand him at all.”

I mumble something in reply and slink into the hallway. I find Loch in his room, staring out the window at the beautiful cluster of snow-covered trees surrounding the cabin. I keep my voice low just in case Shauna's parents venture upstairs.

“What did you tell the boss to get off work for the weekend?” I sit down on the bed next to his unpacked bag. “Chicken pox? The flu? A broken heart?” Loch looks at me, frowning. I continue, “Ebola? Malaria? The plague? Vampirism?”

“I quit.”

“You what?” I accidentally shout it. I press my hand over my mouth, as if that will somehow reverse the noise.

“The boss wouldn't let me take any more time off.” Loch wipes his hand over his buzzed hair. “I made a choice. The hours sucked anyway.”

A sick feeling settles into my gut. “Well,” I say softly. “Good.”

He tugs at the bottom of his sweatshirt. “Think I made the right decision?”

I brighten. Of course he made the right decision. I hope. “You're the most popular product we've got, Loch. There's a waiting list a mile long for you,” I say with confidence. “Now you'll have time to go on more dates and bring in more money. No more teddy bears.”

“Wait—there's a waiting list?” He turns away from the window.

I shrug and fidget with the zipper on his duffel bag. “Winston girls think you're adorable.”

“You're a Winston girl.” He sits beside me on the bed. The springs squeak. “You think I'm adorable?”

I blush and shove my hands into the pocket of my hoodie. I glance at his wide, scruffy chin. “Duh.”

Loch scratches that stubble and turns to me, accidentally bumping my knee with his. I squirm a little. Is it warm in here?

“Toni, I…” He doesn't finish. He jumps up because Shauna appears in the doorway, her chest heaving. She gasps for air, leaning against the frame.

“You two can't be sneaking around together like this,” she shout-whispers. “If Micah is going to be alone with anyone in a bedroom, it should be me.”

“Relax,” I tell her. “Nothing's going on.”

I look to Loch to back me up on that, but he gazes out the window again, clasping his hands behind his back. Silent.

“I don't give a rat's ass about your love life, Toni Valentine,” Shauna hisses. “But I do want what my deposit promises me. Your business would never survive another incident like Carrie Sanders. Understand?”

“We're doing what you asked.” I stand, fidgeting with the string on my sweatpants. “I told your parents that you pulled me out of my darkest depression and inspired me to apply to Ivy League schools. That lie alone was worth your deposit.”

“Look, in about five seconds, the job is about to get a whole lot worse,” Shauna says.

Downstairs, a door slams and there's a huge roar of laughter. Someone snorts. There's some type of singing. Loch and I exchange a glance. Shauna cringes. The Mayhews have arrived. It's showtime.

twenty

T
HE FIRST THING
I
NOTICE
about Ben Mayhew is his blatant dwisrespect for personal space. When Shauna introduces me as her dear friend from school, Ben wraps his wire-like arms around my shoulders until my face is stuffed into his puffed-out coat. The second thing I notice about Ben Mayhew is that he smells like cigarettes. I gag at the strong scent. When he releases me from his grasp, I hide behind Loch. I don't like smelling or touching strangers.

Shauna wraps her arm around Loch's waist and yanks away my security blanket. “Ben, darling, this is my boyfriend Micah Garry,” she says. Is she really speaking in a faux-British accent? I think she is a little bit. Wow. “I'm in love with him. He's totally in love with me. We'll probably get married someday.”

My jaw drops. There are no words. Loch keeps a straight face. I'm impressed.

Ben scans Loch as if assessing a new car and says, “‘Sup?”

Loch outstretches his arms. “Oh, come on. Let's hug, man.”

As a horrified look forms on Ben's face, Loch envelops him into an enormous bear hug. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Ben's narrow face gets lost in Loch's massive arms. The hug holds a beat too long before Ben manages to squeeze away. He straightens his coat, tries to keep his cool.

Ben's an interesting-looking guy. It's like someone pinched his body from head to toe. Everything from his nose to his arms to his ears appears narrow and smashed. He walks with an unpracticed swagger, and his shaggy brown hair falls over his eyes in kinky waves.

I brace myself for another act of Shauna's performance, but the front door swings open. Mrs. Hamilton and a woman I presume to be Mrs. Mayhew enter the living room. They kick bags along the way. Loch hurries to help with their luggage.

“The roads were fine on the way up,” Mrs. Mayhew says, breathing heavy. “But there's supposed to be a huge snow storm tonight.”

“I hope not,” Mrs. Hamilton replies. “But I came prepared if we get stuck here for a few days.”

“Special cider?” Mrs. Mayhew giggles. Mrs. Hamilton nods and laughs.

Stuck here? For a few days? Please no
. Mrs. Mayhew shakes my hand and introduces herself. She looks nothing like her son. Yellow hair, huge teeth, robust-nature. When the polite chatter dies down, Mrs. Mayhew looks at me and asks, “Will you be attending Yale with Shauna next year, Toni?”

The question catches me off-guard. I came prepared to talk about Shauna and her imaginary golden life at Winston, but not myself. I scratch the back of my neck, nervous.
Lie, Toni. Just lie. This is what you do now. LIE
.

“Of course she is,” Shauna interjects. She bundles her red curls into a messy bun. “We plan to be roommates.”

“Thank goodness,” Mrs. Mayhew exclaims. “It will be so nice knowing your roommate. My freshmen year was a disaster because of mine. I swear she never bathed.”

I don't want to attend Yale with Shauna, not even in an imaginary world. Loch senses my annoyance and nudges my elbow. I keep my mouth shut.

After everyone gets settled, Mr. Hamilton announces that it's time to hit the slopes. Shauna and Loch load up the ski gear while I check my phone for messages. Emma's latest nugget of encouragement:
KA-CHING!
The reminder makes me feel a little better, but I'm still counting the minutes until this weekend trip is over.

On the ride to the slopes, Shauna sits smashed between Loch and I in the backseat of the Hamiltons' SUV. I notice that her knee touches his knee. The whole way.
Is that touching necessary?
Ben's in the front passenger's seat so he can't see back here. So there's no need for the knee-on-knee contact. I grind my teeth and stare out the window at the mountains.

At the cozy ski lodge, the group splits into advanced and beginner. I slide myself into the beginner category to keep an eye on Shauna and Loch. I can't remember the last time I went skiing anyway. My dad used to take me when I was younger, but I was never any good. Shauna is advanced, but she makes a point of saying over and over, “I don't want to leave my boyfriend.” And Ben doesn't want to leave Shauna.