Only Everything (21 page)

Without waiting for him to reply, I turned and jogged off toward the locker room, my legs quivering beneath me from the strain. I couldn’t get away from my father fast enough.

What the hell was wrong with me? My entire life I’d been salivating for my father’s approval. And for him to get off my back
about football. And now here I was, making him proud. Plus, I had a hot girl throwing herself at me, and I was going to a party this Friday with some of the most popular kids in school. For the first time in my nomadic existence, everything was falling into place.

But all I wanted to do was keep right on running.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Katrina

“Calculate the value of the cosine in the following triangle. . . .” I read under my breath, chewing on the end of my pencil. “Okay, with the Pythagorean theorem that would be—”

The numbers blurred in front of me, the back of my skull feeling foggy and gray. I was exhausted after a sleepless night, listening to Ty and his friends smack-talk over the latest version of Madden football on the big screen in the living room. As little sense as trigonometry made to me on a good day, it made much less when I couldn’t stop yawning. But I had to get this done. I needed as much time as I could buy myself to go over my lecture for English class tomorrow. A thought that made my heart sink so fast I felt dizzy.

Tomorrow. How was I going to make it through tomorrow? My body hit me with a huge yawn, and I shook my head. How was I even going to stay awake until sixth period?

I put my head in my hand and closed my eyes, listening to the wail of a drill in the garage. It was nice of Ty’s uncle Gino to let me study in his office while Ty worked, but it wasn’t that conducive to the occasional power nap. I folded my arms and laid my head down. In about two seconds I felt myself start to drift off, and in that odd
haziness between being awake and being asleep, I saw Charlie. He was sitting under a tree in a blue-and-white varsity jacket, yukking it up with Stacey Halliburn, Josh Moskowitz, and Veronica Vail. Then True walked by, and they laughed even harder.

Why was Charlie even friends with those people? He was so nice. So normal. Why did he have to get sucked in by the popular crowd?

Suddenly the dream changed, and now Charlie and I were back in the band room, facing each other. Except this time I leaned in and kissed that dimple. And this time, he turned his head and kissed me back.

A huge crash inside the garage scared me half to death, and my head popped up. Blinking, I looked at the dingy window over the desk, which I could barely see through, thanks to the dozens of yellowing
Non Sequitur
comic strips taped to the glass. Chubby, balding Gino Rivello of Gino’s Auto Body screamed at Ty and his two buddies, letting out a string of curses that actually made me blush. He started for the office, kicking an oilcan against the wall as he came. I quickly sat back down in his ancient cracked-vinyl chair and pretended to be concentrating.

Gino flung the door open and froze. “Oh, Katrina. I’m sorry. I forgot you were in here,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. He looked at the floor as if ashamed of himself. The bare top of his head gleamed under the fluorescent lights. “I suppose there’s no way you didn’t hear that?”

My heart was still pounding, but I smiled at him. “Hear what?”

He laughed and closed the door behind him. His gray overalls were streaked with grease and spattered with paint. He grabbed a beer out of the mini-fridge next to me and sat down at the other desk.

“Trig, huh? I was always good at trig,” he said, swinging the chair around to face me.

“Want to do it for me?” I joked.

He laughed. “Not your thing?”

“I don’t hate it,” I said with a sigh. “But it’s not easy. I didn’t exactly pay attention in geometry last year.”

“Well, you had a rough year,” he said plainly.

My heart pinched. Sometimes I forgot that every living person in Lake Carmody knew what had happened to my dad. “True. But the trig book doesn’t care.”

Gino smiled sympathetically. There was another, smaller, bang out in the garage and he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. “Isn’t there someplace quieter you could be studying?”

I shook my head. “The library closes early on Sunday, and I’m supposed to have lunch with Ty anyway, so . . .”

Suddenly my phone beeped and my heart hit the floor. I hadn’t heard from my mom since our argument on Friday, having snuck into our house to get most of my stuff when I knew she was on shift. I’d left her a note saying I was moving in with Ty full-time, and I kept waiting for her to call or text or show up at Ty’s door, but so far, nothing. And this text was from Raine.

WHERE ARE YOU? WE’RE GOING TO THE MOVIES!

My whole body felt heavy. Apparently I’d been right all along. My mother really didn’t care about me.

STUDYING. SORRY. TTYL?

UGH! LOSER!

I turned the phone off and shoved it into my bag.

“Bad news?” Gino asked, seeing my face.

I shook my head, laughed shortly. “Bad friend.”

I didn’t even realize that I truly thought that until I said it. But
Raine hadn’t called me to find out why I hadn’t shown up at our pre-homeroom hangout for two days. She hadn’t asked me, in the brief moments we’d seen each other in class, what was going on with Ty. She was always so caught up in her own thing, her other friends, what she wanted to do, that sometimes it felt like she didn’t remember I existed.

You could call her and tell her what’s going on too,
a voice inside my head said—the voice that sounded like my dad’s. And that was true, of course. Which sparked the question . . . why hadn’t I?

Then the office door opened unexpectedly, clattering against a metal filing cabinet. Ty wiped a dirty rag across his forehead.

“Hey, Kat,” he said.

“You ready to go?” I asked, my stomach already grumbling.

He shook his head. “Not gonna happen. We had kind of a setback out there, and we’re gonna have to stay late. You wanna run down to Bellissimo and get me and the guys some Italian subs?”

“Oh.” I tried not to look disappointed. “Sure. Let me finish this one problem.”

“They’re kind of starving now,” Ty said, holding out a wad of folded bills. “Could you please just go?”

“Tyler,” Uncle Gino said in a warning tone.

“What?” Ty’s face was pure innocence. “I said please.”

“It’s fine,” I told Gino, closing my book. “I’ll go. I’m hungry anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Gino asked, giving Ty an admonishing look.

“Positive.” I was touched that he cared. The thing was, he didn’t know how much I owed Ty. He was giving me a place to stay so that I didn’t have to deal with my mother. He paid for half my meals and drove me everywhere. Making one food run was nothing compared to what he had done for me. It was the least I could do.

I stopped next to Ty on my way out the door and gave him a kiss, trying to ignore the streak of grime across his cheek.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes,” I told him.

I trudged out the back door and walked down the cold, shadowy alleyway to the street. As soon as I stepped out into the sunshine, I had a fleeting memory of the dream I’d had in the office, and my skin warmed. Charlie. Thinking about him brought a smile to my face.

At least he would be there tomorrow when I headed up the class discussion on
Great Expectations
. That was a good thing. Or it would be, if I didn’t make a fool of myself in front of him. Again.

Something slammed behind the garage doors, and I saw Ty staring out at me. I swear it was like he knew I was thinking about another guy, however innocent those thoughts were. I ducked behind my hair and speed-walked up the block toward Bellissimo.

CHAPTER THIRTY

True

I bit into a strawberry cupcake on Sunday afternoon, and my taste buds hummed with happiness. This job was the best thing that had happened to me since arriving on Earth. Not only had it gotten me out of the house and away from my self-pitying mother on a day when I otherwise would have had nowhere to go, but I was also surrounded by potential match-ees on a day when I otherwise might not have encountered a soul. And today I was working a full shift, which meant that by Friday I’d have enough money to buy Darnell a new soul-sucking cell phone of his choice. But the best part was the cupcakes. I’d been on break for ten minutes and I’d already eaten four of them. They were perfection in a mini cake.

I was going to have to thank Katrina for sending me here.

I took another bite, and as if my thoughts had conjured her, Katrina walked into the shop, carrying a heavy plastic bag with an Italian flag stamped across the front. She placed an order at the counter, then turned and spotted me. The magnitude of her grin was surprising.

“Hi,” I said as she approached my corner table. “You look happy.”

“I am,” she said. “Guess what? Ty asked me to move in with him.”

“Oh.” Somehow, I couldn’t muster her level of enthusiasm. “Really?”

“Yeah. I was spending half my time over there anyway, so it made sense,” Katrina said.

“And your mom is okay with that?” I asked dubiously.

Katrina’s face hardened. “She works a lot, so . . . Yeah. I think it’s good for everyone. Now she can have her own space.”

Even without my soul-reading powers, I didn’t believe that positive spin for a second, but I nodded anyway. “Okay. Well, good then.”

“Ramos? Your order’s up!” my coworker, a gangly guy named Torin, called from behind the counter.

“See you at school,” Katrina said.

I watched her go, wishing there was something I could do to make her see how very not-made-for-each-other she and Ty were. But I had a feeling that my advice wouldn’t exactly be welcome. Besides, I was here to bring couples together, not break them up. I finished off my strawberry cupcake and reached for my milk. Out on the sidewalk, Darla appeared, peering through the window until she saw me. Her face lit up, and she practically flung herself at the door.

Excellent. People were really excited to see me today.

“You’re here! Good!” She yanked out the chair across from mine and sat, wearing LCHS sweatpants, silver flip-flops, and a barely-there white tank top. “Thank you
so
much for hooking me up with Charlie. He’s so yummy!”

I sat up straight, my spirits rising considerably. Had I finally done it? Had I finally made a real match? “Really?”

“Totally,” Darla said, checking some messages on her phone. “I mean, he totally fell for that ‘I hate football’ thing, so we hung out on Friday, and then yesterday I went to his race and even met his parents. You were
so
right! Being interested in the stuff he’s interested in and
not
in the stuff he’s
not
interested in totally worked! And he is
so
sweet and polite and mature. I swear he is
almost
perfect. I can’t wait till he—”

I blinked. “Wait a second. Did you say
almost
perfect?”

Darla shrugged and shoved her phone back into her minuscule purse.

“Well, yeah,” she said, resting an elbow on the table. “I mean, he could bulk up some, and maybe wear something that’s not from a signature line at Kmart. Plus, does he have to carry those drumsticks around
everywhere
he goes? Like, what? A drum set is going to suddenly appear out of nowhere in the middle of the movie theater and he’ll just have to play it?”

She laughed, and I felt like I was going to vomit. Which was something I never, ever wanted to do again.

“No, no, no, no, no,” I said, regretting that last cupcake. A lot. “Charlie is amazing! He’s sweet, he’s chivalrous, he’s musical, athletic, smart. He’s awesome the way he is!”

Darla rolled her eyes hugely. “Whatever. If he’s going to take me to homecoming, he’s gonna have to step up his game. I mean, am I really gonna go out with a guy who’s in band? Not likely. Veronica would
die
.”

I gripped the edge of the table with both hands. If I had my usual strength, I would have cracked it in half and hit her over the head with it. Both sides.

“Anyway, listen, since you’ve been so cool about this Charlie stuff, I think there’s something I should tell you,” Darla said, lowering her
voice and leaning across the table. Her long glossy hair fell forward into the crumbs from my first cupcake—tiramisu—and I didn’t tell her. It was the tiniest act of revenge, and it made me feel very slightly vindicated. “Or maybe I should show you.”

She took out her phone, hit a few buttons, and laid it in front of me. On the screen was a picture of me, taken from the side, without me knowing. It looked like it had been shot on the first day of school, when I’d worn those painful cowboy boots. The title across the top of the page read, “True-ly Awful!”

My skin seared. Darla touched her fingertip to the screen and flicked to the next picture. It was me on vomit day, wearing the band jacket over the long, gauzy dress and jeans, a photo I was fairly certain Veronica had taken. Then me in my overalls on Wednesday, that itchy plaid vest I’d sported on Thursday, and finally the purple sweatpants and striped shirt I’d worn on Friday.

“Sorry. I thought you should know,” Darla said, with a sympathetic click of her tongue.

“Who’s taking these?” I asked, furious. “Who’s posting them?”

“Honestly? Whoever started the website made it so anyone can post. There are, like, a hundred pictures from farmer day,” she said. “Plus the video of when you kicked Ty Donahue’s ass.”

Something inside me snapped. I reached for the phone, but she tucked it into her purse and under the table. She was smarter than she looked. If she hadn’t acted, her phone would have gone the way of Darnell’s, and I’d have had to work another week to pay it off.

“The good news is, I can help,” Darla said, her brown eyes wide. “You know that boutique up the street? My Favorite Things? Well, I work there! If you come in, I’m sure I can get you a discount.” Her eyes flicked over my gray button-front shirt and apron. “We even have bras!”