One Past Midnight (19 page)

“No, I just didn't get much sleep,” I answered, hoping the conversation would end there.

“Sure,” she teased.

The problem was, Miriam was right—I did look exhausted. I was starting to fray at the edges in this world and I couldn't let that happen. As I continued adjusting my makeup, I wondered how long I could keep this up.

But I had to. Falling apart was not an option. I needed to be the person people expected me to be here.

So when Miriam suggested we swing by the fruit stand to get more supplies for our diet, I suppressed the irks and smiled in agreement. It was worth it if Miriam went on believing that apples were the key to my recent weight loss. I even paid for our selection, carefully avoiding fruit-stand guy's eyes the entire time. With everything else that was going on, he was the least of my concerns.

Dex found me as soon as we pulled into the parking lot; he took my bag and wrapped an arm around me as we walked into school.

“Nice dress,” he commented, looking me up and down. I batted my eyelashes. Mom had followed yesterday's form and left a new outfit for me this morning. I had to agree with Dex: the perfect-shade-of-plum jersey dress was to die for and would assume prime position on my favorites rack.

“I still can't get over how amazing you look with that hair,” he murmured in my ear, pulling me close.

I smiled, enjoying the attention. It might not always feel sparky and magical with Dex, but I knew one thing for sure—he adored me. He'd had his pick of all the girls at school and he'd chosen me, continuously, for the past two years. Not many guys do that. So what if he didn't make me feel that . . .
way
I'd always imagined the L-word would? Tons of people said that stuff came with time. And time was something Dex would give me.

I snuggled into his shoulder and blinked away the gnawing memory of Ethan—how just the way he looked at me sent shivers through my body.

“A bunch of the guys are going to Mixons tonight. You interested?”

I remembered Ethan's list. But maintaining appearances in Wellesley was important too, so I needed to show up at the senior hangout.

“Sure. I have to pick up my car this afternoon and run a couple of errands first. Meet you there?”

He stopped outside my math class, pulling me to one side
and kissing me quickly. “Sounds good. Tell Lucy and Miriam to come along too.”

I nodded and he planted another quick kiss on my lips just as my math teacher walked past, clearing his throat.

“In class, Sabine.”

“Sorry, Mr. Barlow.” I blushed.

Dex, however, looked thrilled at being caught and lingered long enough to earn another reprimanding stare from Mr. Barlow.

In class, Lucy didn't even bother to pretend to pay attention.

“I can't cope with this. We have eight tables of seven and every other table has ten. Every way I try to rearrange it, the possibility for a complete breakdown of room harmony presents itself.” Lucy flapped her table plan at me, looking desperate.

Lucy was head of the graduation committee, which meant she was in charge of the seating plan for graduation dinner. It wasn't like our prom—we'd had that a month ago—but it was just as important a tradition at our school. Graduation was everyone's day. The smart students were acknowledged one last time, the socialites had their final opportunity to flaunt their connections, and everyone got the chance to reveal which colleges they would be attending. And last but not least, we got to parade around with our boyfriends and girlfriends for the last time—all while looking fabulous.

I glanced over Lucy's shoulder at her table plan as Mr. Barlow made a last-ditch effort to get control of the class. He suggested we call out random mathematical problems and jointly solve them for a bit of fun.

“Here.” I pointed to her plan. “Can't you put this table together with this one and break that one into two, like this?” I pointed out the people to keep together and who to separate. “Then you'll just have Sahara left, and she could sit at table sixteen, which would bring that up to eight.”

Mr. Barlow cleared his throat behind us.

“Sorry, sir,” I said.

“Oh my God, that's totally perfect!” Lucy shrieked, oblivious to the fact that her outburst earned
me
yet another stern look.

“Perhaps you have a suggestion for what the class could work on, Sabine?” Mr. Barlow asked.

I swallowed, looking at the whiteboard. There was an advanced trigonometry equation already up there. Math was not my strong suit.

“Oh.” My mind was racing. When I opened my mouth I didn't seem to be able to control what flew out. “Er . . . two numbers where the sum is twenty-six and the product is one hundred and sixty-five.”

I expected Mr. Barlow to snap at me for wasting everyone's time, but instead he broke into a smile.

“Just the thing we need in our final week—a little bit
of lateral thinking. Well done, Sabine. Okay, class, how about it?”

I walked out of math with Lucy singing my praises and the first answer on Ethan's to-do list.

I had planned to sneak away with my laptop at lunch, hoping to find out what language was on Ethan's list, but Lucy intercepted me in the hall.

“Where are you going?”

“To the sports field,” I said vaguely.

“Absolutely not. You can't! I need you. If I don't get this table plan finished during lunch and the order of the service finalized by the end of today, I won't be able to go to Mixons tonight.” She pouted. “You have to help me, Sabine! Noah is going to be there! And I heard he still hasn't invited anyone to the graduation dinner.” She threw me a plain-tive look.

I smiled and sighed. Despite my dire need to be elsewhere, there was a girl code of conduct when it came to these things, and Lucy deserved to turn up at graduation on the arm of the hottie she'd been drooling over for the past two years. Mixons was the perfect opportunity to make something happen.

“On one condition,” I said, hoping I'd still have enough time to get my final answers as well as get my car back and go to Mixons.

“Anything!” she chirped.

“If I help you get everything done and Noah is there tonight, you have to
promise
me you're actually going to ask him to go to the graduation dinner with you.”

“But—”

I cut her off with a hand in the air. “Those are my conditions, take them or leave them.”

She glanced down the hall to where Noah was looking hot, leaning against his locker and joking around with Dex and Brett. They really would be a beautiful couple, and I was sure I'd caught him checking her out when he thought no one was looking. She took a deep breath and scrunched up her face.

“Okay, okay!”

I smiled triumphantly. “Okay then. Let's get to work.”

It took all of lunchtime plus our study period to finalize the seating plans. When we finally emerged from the seniors' lounge, Lucy looked positively delirious knowing she could now delegate the remaining tasks to the other committee members.

“Now it's just down to decorating the hall on the day. Any chance you might be interested in helping?” she asked sheepishly.

To her surprise I nodded. By then, I was hoping I'd be a lot closer to having my own life sorted out. And maybe
having things to keep me busy in this world would be just what I needed.

“No problem,” I said. “I'm a fantastic supervisor.”

Lucy slapped me on the arm playfully. “Of course, if you're too busy getting a bikini wax during the day . . .” She elbowed me jokingly. “I could always make an exception.”

“You are
so
funny,” I quipped, ignoring the twist in my stomach.

“Oh, come on, Sabine. Since when did you get all secretive about the big night? I thought you'd be planning out the entire thing. I'm surprised you haven't worked out a script.”

I gave her a teasing smile. “
Well
, Lucy, I don't need a script. Not much talking involved.”

She burst into a fit of giggles. But when she sobered, her next words threw me.

“You're happy though, right?”

“I . . . ah . . . Why do you ask?” I stammered.

“You've just seemed a bit distracted lately. I was thinking about it the other day, and I totally get why you've waited this long to . . . you know. It's a big thing. But you guys have been together for a couple of years. I guess I just wondered if there was any other reason that you hadn't . . . before.”

I stopped walking, stunned by the insightfulness of Lucy's comments. It was true. I
had
made Dex wait a long time. I'd excused it as best I could, given all the right rea-sons, hidden behind parental expectations, self-respect,
age, timing, blah-blah-blah. But it had stopped being about those things awhile back. In many ways, I'd been hoping to find that missing ingredient in our otherwise perfect relationship.

“Well, I . . . um.” I sighed. “Luce, I'm . . .”

On the verge of spilling my concerns to her, I froze. This was my Wellesley life. If this life fell apart, right before graduation, what would I have then? No. I couldn't let that happen. Couldn't risk having both of my worlds in disarray.

I waved a dismissive hand through the air. “I'm absolutely happy,
more
than happy. Dex and I are going to be together for, like, ever. Waiting until the right time to take this step was key. If we'd jumped into bed too soon, we wouldn't be able to look back on this time and know how much we'd wanted it.”

Lucy swooned. “Aw, you guys are so adorable. I hadn't thought of that, but it's so true.” She nodded. “I hope Noah and I are like you two one day.”

I blinked, surprised it had been that easy. But I gladly latched onto the change of subject. “Well, you'll never find out if you don't do something about it. Tonight.”

“At least if he rejects me, I won't have to see him at school for much longer,” she moaned as we made our way down the hall to our last class of the day.

To my surprise, Lucas was waiting for me after school and drove me, as promised, straight to the garage to pick up my car. It was one of my favorite possessions. One thing Ryan, Lucas, and I shared was a love of cars. Ryan loved how cool he thought he was in his vintage Porsche, Lucas loved the mechanics, and I loved the freedom that my new-model silver A1 gave me.

When we arrived at the garage, I couldn't hide my excitement. I planned to inspect the car carefully, eager to see the new rims we'd ordered. But as soon as Frank, the mechanic, came out of the garage door to greet us, I knew the news wasn't good.

Frank was short and thin, his wiry hair now completely gray, along with the forest of hair on his chest and arms. He'd been the family mechanic since before I was born, and
I imagined he would keep going until he literally couldn't work anymore.

“Sorry, darlin'. If I'd known you were comin', I woulda called and told ya not to waste ya time. Those rims ain't come in yet and next delivery's not till Thursday.” He pulled out a rag and started wiping his oil-smeared hands.

I opened my mouth to complain, but Lucas cut me off.

“That's okay, Frank,” he said from behind me. “I'll give you a call in a couple of days, see how it's going.”

“Best do that, Lucas. Sorry for wastin' your time.”

Frank held out his hand to me. I shook it and tried to smile, but I felt deflated. And now dirty.

Lucas and I hadn't spoken on the drive to the garage and the drive back was almost as silent. We both tried a few times, but our attempts were lame. What little I did say—like our thirty-word conversation about graduation, or our-less-than-twenty-word chat about how Miriam had invited me to go to Cape Cod over the summer—only seemed to infuriate him. For some reason, Lucas had decided that I was an inconsiderate brat and he wasn't—as he chauffeured me around in his BMW, the car he used when he wasn't riding his Ducati.

I didn't know what his problem was, but he'd been like this for as long as I could remember. I'd always thought it had something to do with Mom and Dad's divorce. The process had been relatively smooth from our point of view.
Mom and Dad had followed “protect the children” protocol and had most of their arguments behind closed doors. I'm not sure what the final straw was, why Dad eventually packed up and left—though I suspected it had something to do with the waitress at the restaurant he'd made us eat at three times a week in the months leading up to his moving out.

When he left, Lucas decided to go with him. I think he just figured someone had to, and since Dad, a highly regarded criminal-defense lawyer, was always in New York for work, Lucas basically had the apartment to himself.

As we pulled up at the house I couldn't stop checking my watch. The trip had taken longer than I'd planned. Everyone would already be at Mixons, and I still didn't have my answers for Ethan.