Out with the In Crowd (15 page)

“Don’t say
perfect
.”

She gazed out the window, at the lit-up houses we’d passed hundreds of times before. “I need to get away from here. Start over.”

I said nothing, just ached with jealousy.

At the Ross house, Abbie knocked on the door. It seemed extra quiet inside. I couldn’t even hear Cevin yapping.

The delay in confronting Connor had worn off some of the anger, replacing it with sadness. I hoped I wouldn’t cry. Was it wrong to hope
he
would?

Connor answered the door wearing the same clothes as when I’d left a few hours before. Funny how he looked totally different to me.

He didn’t say hello or invite us in. He just looked at me and I looked back, suddenly so overwhelmed with hurt I couldn’t think of a thing to say.

Abbie’s gaze flitted between us. “I’m gonna go find Chris.” She slipped past Connor.

Connor pulled the door shut behind him as he stepped outside. I sat on the front step, then he joined me.

We’d never spent so long together without talking. So much for quick and painless. This breakup would be long, drawn-out torture.

“I don’t even know where to begin.” Connor looked at me with big, beautiful eyes. “It’s not what you think, Skylar.”

I took a shaky breath. “It’s not? Because I’m not even really sure what I think.”

“You think I’m falling for her.”

“Yeah.” It came out as a whisper.

“But I’m not. I love
you
. Nothing’s changing that.”

“Then why’s she coming over? Why’d you tell Curtis to lie to me?”

“I knew how it’d look. I knew you’d be mad.” He scuffed the sole of his shoe along the stone steps. “I should’ve told you. I was stupid.”

My voice returned to a normal volume. “Tell me now.” Connor sighed. “Jodi said she wanted to talk about the Bible—”

I huffed.

He sighed again and continued. “She said she felt kinda dumb at youth group because everyone seemed to know so much more than she did. She asked if she could come over to the house, like, twice a week so I could help her. That’s all that happened. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Do you know what it was like to hear about it from Curtis?” I glared at him. He looked nervous. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen Connor nervous. “To hear how sorry your mom felt for me?”

“I was being really stupid. Believe me, both my parents have beat that into me tonight. Jodi won’t be coming over anymore.”

“Good.”

“I just . . .” He tapped his toes a couple times. “I just wanted to help her. She needs a nice guy in her life.”

“God will send her someone else.”

“I hope so. I just—”

“I don’t care what you ‘just,’ ” I snapped. “It’s not negotiable. You continuing to hang out with her isn’t an option if you want to be with me. Jodi’s the end of us. Period.”

Connor nodded and stared at his grungy sneakers.

I turned away and looked at the yard, at the glowing solar lights lining the walkway. If only the right path could always be so well-lit and obvious.

“What are you thinking about?” This time Connor waited for me to answer instead of giving his own theory.

But I didn’t want to voice my thoughts.

Of Jodi and Connor—did he think she was prettier than me?

About Kapaa. It was probably nice and warm there.

But mostly I wondered if this thing I was attempting— fitting my new self into my old life—was really worth it.

“Nothing important,” I said to Connor.

At least temporarily, his name had been scratched off the short list of people I trusted.

16

I’m wearing that bathing suit again, the black-and-white
one.

This time there isn’t a palm tree or speck of golden sand
in sight. Instead, I’m on our front lawn. And on the front
lawn is my bedroom. Not the walls, but everything else—
my bed, my dresser, my desk—arranged exactly the same.
As if I’ve been turned out of my own house. As if I’m being
told to move on.

I jolted awake, relieved to find myself inside the house and dressed in flannel pj’s. I took several gulps of air and found my mouth dry like cotton.

Even though I was in my warmest pajamas, winter’s chill surrounded me as I pulled back the blankets and climbed out of bed. I tiptoed out of my room and down the hall, past Mom and Dad’s closed bedroom doors. Who slept in there now, Mom or Dad? I’d guess Mom. It seemed unfair that every time she decided to come home, Dad got kicked out of his own room.

When I saw a faint glow coming from the kitchen, I hesitated at the bottom of the steps. I didn’t hear anyone. Someone must’ve left on a light.

I rounded the corner to discover it wasn’t a kitchen light but Dad’s office lamp. He knelt beside his desk, his head bowed.

I stepped backward—I’d get a drink from my bathroom sink—but my elbow smacked the refrigerator door handle. “Ouch!”

Dad’s head snapped up, and I covered my mouth. “Sorry,” I said. “I just came down for a drink. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

He shook his head and used the desk to pull himself up. Boy, he looked old. Of course it was three in the morning, he still wore his rumpled work clothes, and it had been a couple days since he’d shaved.

“I’m happy to have the interruption.” Dad gestured to the floor where he’d been. “This praying stuff . . . I don’t know how good I am at it.”

“Mom’s here, isn’t she?” I said. “That’s something.”

“Yeah, it’s something.” Dad scratched his head. His hair stuck out in crazy directions. I’d never seen him so disheveled.

“Can I get you something?” I asked. “Coffee? Tea? A comb?”

Dad smoothed his hair and gave me a bland smile. “Frightful, I’m sure.”

Frightful, I’m sure.”

“You wanna talk?”

He shook his head. “You’ve been in the middle too much, Skylar. I’m sorry. I don’t want to do that to you anymore.” I wouldn’t have minded listening to him, but it was nice for him to acknowledge the tough position he and Mom had put me in.

“So what are you doing awake?” Dad asked.

“So what are “I’m thirsty.”

“That’s right. You said that. Should I make us some tea?”

I didn’t know if I liked tea any better than coffee, but the idea of holding a warm, steamy mug sounded comforting. “Sure.”

While I pulled two mugs from the cabinet, Dad filled the teapot and started the gas burner. Then we stood there, watching the flicker of the blue flame in the darkened kitchen.

“We probably shouldn’t do this,” Dad said. “You know what they say about a watched pot.”

“Can I ask a question about you and Mom?”

“Sure.”

“You’re hoping she doesn’t go to Hawaii, right?”

Dad continued to stare at the stove, an amused smile on his face. “Am I that transparent?”

“Back in October you told me we were similar, that we’d both do whatever it took to be with the person we loved. It seemed strange for you to give up now.” I studied his profile. “You know, you could lose everything. Mom, Abbie, the baby.”

“Or I could end up with it all.” Dad fit his arm around my shoulder, and I leaned against him. “You have no idea what a comfort it is to know I’ll have you no matter what your mom ultimately decides.”

My heart sputtered. With the weirdness of Connor and Jodi, Hawaii looked pretty good right now. I thought of earlier on Connor’s porch step, of how sorry he said he felt. But was it enough to keep it from happening again?

“In your experience with Mom,” I said slowly, “has it been worth it?”

“Has what been worth it?”

“Sticking around. Waiting for her to realize she’s being stupid and should come home.”

The corners of his mouth turned down. “Yes. Although this time,
I
was stupid.” Dad shook his head as if disgusted. “An affair is an ugly, nasty business, Skylar. Even if your mom chooses to stay, it’s a long, tough road ahead for both of us.”

I sighed. “I know. But it’d be so nice if you could talk her into it.”

“We have to be careful with deception,” Dad said. “If we have to deceive to keep something, it probably wasn’t really ours to begin with.”

I’d set my alarm super early, planning to get ready and yank Abbie off to school before Connor and Chris pulled into our drive. After I returned to bed from my conversation with Dad, I lay awake a long time. So long, I imagined the alarm would be unnecessary.

And then, the next thing I knew, Abbie stood over my bed, shaking me. “Skylar, the guys are here.”

I blinked at her, my eyes aching like overused muscles. “What time is it?”

“7:30.” She shut off my radio and waddled out of the room. “Hurry up.”

“You know, you could’ve woken me up sooner!” I called as she shut my door. If Abbie answered, I didn’t hear it.

Somehow I made it downstairs by 7:40—teeth and hair brushed, outfit decent, and even a little makeup. Pretty darn impressive.

“Sorry,” I said, breathless as I slid into my normal spot in the passenger’s seat. “Thanks for waiting.”

Connor put the car in reverse. “No worries.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my first period teacher will understand,” Abbie said, her voice pure sarcasm.

“You guys could’ve gone without me. I told you to tell Connor that.”

“He wouldn’t leave Queen Skylar behind.”

Connor flashed an irritated look her way, something I’d never seen him do. She grunted but didn’t say anything else.

“So, you overslept?” Connor asked.

“Yep.”

He glanced at me, but I kept my focus on the road. Where his should’ve been. “You look tired.”

“Because I am.”

“Are your pants new?”

I drew my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “Uh-huh.”

“I like them.”

Oh, come on. Connor never commented on my clothes except when ridiculing me. I didn’t answer.

In the backseat, Chris and Abbie were quiet as well. Recently they’d been a little chattier, a little more comfortable with each other. Apparently the effects of last night lingered for them as well. Abbie had told Chris about Hawaii. I assumed this meant Connor knew by now, and the only reason he hadn’t brought it up was we’d yet to be alone.

I assumed correctly.

At school, as we split off from our siblings, Connor said, “So Chris told me about your mom and Abbie moving. I’m really sorry.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, well.”

“They’re staying at the house until they move?”

“Looks like it.”

“That’ll be kinda weird.”

“That’ll be “Yeah.”

Connor wove his fingers through mine. “Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, just let me know.”

I snorted. “I tried last night. You were preoccupied.”

He sighed and released my lifeless fingers. “I know, Skylar.”

“No, you don’t.” I spun my combination into my locker, anxious to open the door and put space between us. “If you ‘knew,’ then you wouldn’t be chatting with me like everything is fine.”

“I know everything’s not fine.” Connor leaned against Eli’s closed locker. “I know it’s going to take time, but I’m really not sure how to act until then.”

The black anger surging through me felt so familiar. Like the last time Jodi had involved herself in my relationship. I’d recovered from Eli’s damage—hadn’t I?—and surely I could do it again.

I took a few wobbly breaths. “I just don’t trust you right now.”

“I know, and I understand, but—”

“Hey, you two.” Jodi sauntered down the hall toward her locker. “Can you believe how cold it is outside?”

I looked at her.

I hadn’t
really
looked at Jodi in a long time. She was beautiful, she really was. Especially when she wore her strawberry blonde hair up in a ponytail. It showcased her long cheekbones and her round, dark eyes. The same round, dark eyes Connor had been looking into as he helped her with Bible comprehension. How could he not feel anything for her? I’d gamble my Juicy jeans that she’d been saying all the right words, pulling out her most subtle flirting moves. And I’d seen firsthand what kind of damage she could do.

After passing Connor, Jodi winked at me.

I wished I’d stayed on the phone longer with Curtis the night before and let him detail all his Tae Kwon Do moves.

With a slam of my locker door, I charged out of there. How could Jodi be like this? We’d bonded over caramel pretzel crunch ice cream and the thrills of our first cars. What was it about guys, about revenge, that trumped our years of friendship?

Connor caught up to me. I expected him to say something about being nice to Jodi, about how it hadn’t been necessary to storm out of there.

“I just don’t want to be around her right now,” I said before he could talk.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“You have nothing to apologize I slowed my pace. “Yeah?”

I slowed “Yeah.”

I smiled a little. He did too. The first tentative steps toward normality.

17

Heather flung open her front door. “I’m going to Uganda!”

I blinked at her through the flakes of snow falling between us.

“You’re letting in cold air, c’mon.” Heather grabbed my sewing basket as I stepped inside the house.

“You’re going to Uganda?” I repeated, dropping my fabric onto the already cluttered loveseat. “Like, Africa?”

“That’s the one.” Heather pranced around the corner into the kitchen. “You want coffee? I just made some.”

I followed her. “Sure.” I’d had coffee too many times at Heather’s to tell her now that I didn’t like it.

She opened a blue foil package. “It’s a winter blend. Smell it.” She waved it beneath my nose. “Doesn’t it smell wonderful?”

It smelled better than regular coffee, I’d give her that.
Wonderful
wasn’t exactly the word that came to mind.

“When are you going to Africa?”

“Tuesday. Can you believe it? I have so much to do. I’ve been too excited to sleep.” Heather bounded to the cupboard where she kept mugs. “I’m using up all my paid vacation and had to beg a couple girls to cover some shifts, but I don’t care. I mean, this is the whole reason I became a nurse, so I could do this kind of stuff. Cream?”

“Sure.”

She twirled on her way to the fridge. Actually twirled. I’d rarely been so happy that I danced.