Out with the In Crowd (17 page)

Mr. Huntley returned our tests at the end of class on Friday the thirteenth. I’d felt okay about my test when I turned it in. I didn’t expect an A, but likely a B.

I gaped at my big, ugly score. Sixty-three—a D.

When Connor made grades like this, teachers wrote notes like “What happened?” with a little frowny face. My paper had no frowny face. Teachers expected shoddy work out of me. If I’d made an A,
then
I’d get the “What happened?” note.

Connor called after me as I fled the room. He caught up with me in the hallway. “What’s going on? Did you not do well on your test?”

“Sixty-three,” I snapped.

“Could you slow down a little?” He huffed as he trotted alongside me. “Sixty-three isn’t horrible. There’s still lots of time left in the semester.”

My teeth clamped into my lower lip. I really didn’t want to cry. “Used to be I wouldn’t have even cared.” That’s what really had me irked. I hadn’t given 100 percent. I could’ve studied harder, longer, and that left me dissatisfied. Something I never would’ve felt before last summer.

I hadn’t intended for God to intrude in my schoolwork. Life plans, fine, boundaries with guys, sure, but he couldn’t stop there? Apparently he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had his finger on every aspect of my life, even a test that couldn’t hurt me much. Why couldn’t God just accept my half effort? It was more than the other seniors were giving.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” I said as I realized Connor continued to rationalize why the test didn’t matter.

He shut his mouth.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just frustrated with myself.”

“It’s fine.” He paused. We’d reached the hallway he took to art class, but instead of the usual kiss, he just stood there. “Wanna talk about plans for tomorrow night?”

Wanna talk about plans for Right. Valentine’s Day.

Right. Valentine’s “Sure.”

“I’ll come by at seven, okay?”

“Still no clues about what we’re doing?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

I thought of the last surprise, freezing my butt off at the baseball fields. “You do have a knack with surprises.”

“I like to think so.” Connor ruffled my hair. “See you, girl.”

Instead of heading toward English, I watched him saunter down the hall. I wanted everything to be fixed between us, to go back to how it was in the beginning. Before Eli and Jodi got all involved. What did he have planned for tomorrow night? And was I hanging too much hope on it?

“Trouble in paradise?”

I awoke from my thoughts to find Madison standing there, studying me with those intense eyes of hers. “No. Why?”

“Because you’re watching Connor walk away with a frown on your face. Looks like trouble.” She leaned toward me, took several exaggerated sniffs, and wrinkled her nose. “Yep. I can smell it.”

Yep. I can smell it.”

I laughed. “Stop. You can
not
.”

I resumed walking, and she joined me. “So what’s the trouble? Did he forget Valentine’s Day?”

“No. He’s actually got some huge surprise planned.”

“That!” Madison stuck her finger in my face. “What’s that face?”

“I’m making a face?”

“Totally. You look worried.”

“Totally. You “No I don’t.”

“Yeah you do.”

“Well, I’m not worried.”

“Well, you look worried.”

I rolled my eyes. Clearly we needed a subject change. “What are
your
Valentine’s plans?”

“A friend of mine is throwing a big party at her parents’ lake house. Girls only. We’re gonna burn ex-boyfriend mementos.”

“Should be fun.”

Madison shrugged her narrow shoulders. “I’m just grateful it falls on a Saturday this year. That means zero chances of seeing Seth sucking face with Ashley.”

I grimaced. “Ick. Thanks for the visual.”

As we entered English, Madison glanced at Alexis. Something she rarely did. “You and I have spent enough time together over the last few weeks for me to admit this to you.” We slid into our seats, and she gave me a sheepish smile. “I always felt a little bit guilty for taking Seth from Alexis. And I was always paranoid that someday the same thing would happen to me.”

I’d been at the party last September when Madison caught Seth and Ashley. My friends had laughed at the sight of her sobbing, happy that justice had finally come full circle. I hadn’t been one of the laughers, but now I felt slimy inside thinking about how I’d sat there and let it happen.

“Seth’s a loser,” I said.

“He got too good looking, and it went to his head. Remember back in middle school when he’d follow you, me, and Jodi all over the place? He was so geeky. And not in a cute way.”

I smiled. “I’d forgotten about that. Remember when he got in trouble for trying to break into my locker? He was putting flowers or something in there. I can’t remember now.”

Madison grinned. “Jodi was so mad about that.”

“She was?” I glanced at my former friend, who picked at her cuticles while jabbering with Alexis. “Over
Seth
?”

“Of course. You know, Jodi was the queen before you started school there. You dethroned her, and not just with cool guys but with losers like Seth.”

“It’s a wonder we were ever friends.”

She tipped her head toward me. “Or maybe you never really were.”

On paper, it all looked good.

A dozen roses—check.

A dozen roses— Jewelry—check.

A sweet, sappy card—check.

A nice restaurant—check, check, check.

That’s right, three restaurants.

We picked up carryout from P.F. Chang’s—lettuce wraps with that to-die-for ginger plum sauce. We sat at Mill Creek Park on the edge of one of the fountains and watched other dates go on around us. Then we walked to McCormick and Schmick’s for crazy-good seafood. When he said I couldn’t order dessert, I pouted until we landed at the Cheesecake Factory. Chocolate peanut butter cookie dough cheesecake. Enough said.

And as if all that walking around hadn’t been enough, we topped this off with a nice stroll around the Plaza.

“You really like it?” Connor asked me for the thousandth time.

I caressed the wide, silver bracelet he’d given me to start off the night. “I do. I love it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He still looked cautious. “You’re intimidating to pick out jewelry for. I finally went with the one Cameron liked the best.”

“Well, Cameron has impeccable taste.” I turned my bracelet in the light of the streetlamp. “The way he wears the shirt from his train pajamas with the pants of his Superman pajamas? Talk about fashion forward.”

Connor tucked his arm around me and surveyed the bustling shopping district. “So what do you think? A good surprise?”

“It was too much,” I said. “The flowers, all the restaurants . . . You really didn’t have to do that.”

“But I wanted to.” He touched his nose to mine and nuzzled. “You should be treated special.”

And yet I’d felt much more special the night we ate cold subs while shivering on a deserted baseball field. It had been sweet, personal, and we’d been so comfortable with each other. There hadn’t been land mines to step around, not like now. Tonight, though lavish and romantic, seemed generic. And—I couldn’t seem to shake this thought—desperate.

“What are you thinking about?” Connor asked. “Let me guess.” He tapped his chin, feigning deep thought. “You’re thinking, Man, I wish he’d just shut up and kiss me.”

I forced a smile. “That’s it.”

And as he leaned close to me, I wondered if my mom was right. Maybe sometimes it wasn’t worth it to stick around and fix things. Maybe sometimes you should just cut your losses and move on.

19

Store window displays moved on to St. Patty’s themes, but at school, St. Valentine still ruled the halls in anticipation of the Sweetheart dance.

Abbie had never been much for school functions, but now with Chris in the picture, she looked forward to the dance like Christmas morning. We hit most maternity stores in the metro area in our quest for the perfect dress. While I chased away any saleslady who dared to be snotty with my sister, Abbie tried on formal after formal until we finally had success.

So not until Saturday morning—the day of the dance— did I realize
I
didn’t have a dress.

Or not a new dress anyway. It seemed in poor taste to recycle a dress I’d worn to a dance with another guy, particularly Eli. Strange—I’d looked forward to buying or making something special for my first dance with Connor. Yet another thing to have gotten lost in the shuffle.

“Can’t you just wear one of mine?” Abbie asked when I explained why I was throwing my hair up in a ponytail and rushing out the door without showering.

I paused. Before the baby, we’d been about the same size, give or take an inch. Why not?

Abbie left for her mani-pedi and granted me freedom to peruse her closet.

As I leafed through Abbie’s clothes—cute and designer branded, but too generic for my taste—my heart pounded as I imagined the possibilities. New buttons for that sweater. A cropped hemline for that blazer—maybe a new, bold lining. And that polo . . . I pulled it out for closer inspection. Okay, I couldn’t do anything to rescue this one from its boring life, but everything else . . .

No. I pushed aside the clothes and focused on the formals shoved to the back. Now that I’d committed to nursing, I needed to give up all those useless hours I’d put into clothes. Shopping, sewing, fantasizing. I’d use my sewing machine only for useful projects, like the bedding for Abbie’s baby, or . . . Well, surely I’d come up with other things.

I whipped a classic black dress from the back of the closet, calf-length with a gathered skirt that would look great when Connor twirled me across the dance floor. Though to spice it up, I could make a red— No.

No, no, no.

I marched myself out of Abbie’s room and into the bathroom, determined to use my shower to scrub away my fashion obsession.

Abbie looked stunning.

Not despite being pregnant—she was just plain gorgeous. She wore her hair in big, loose curls, her smile sparkled, and the dress we’d found—a shimmery eggplant—did something to bring out her cinnamon eyes.

Abbie twirled before us, a look of uncertainty creasing her forehead. “What do you guys think?”

“Gorgeous,” I said. “I can’t wait to see Chris’s face.”

“Really?” Abbie smoothed her dress around her tummy for possibly the thousandth time.

“Really. You look great.” I appealed to Mom and Dad, who, strangely, both sat in the living room. Dad fussed with bills, and Mom hadn’t taken her gaze off the TV since we walked in. “Doesn’t she look great?”

Dad looked up and smiled. “You both look very beautiful.”

“Mom?” I prompted.

“Very nice.” Her voice sounded as frosty as the weather. Apparently she’d yet to recover from the idea of Abbie going to the dance. Why would Abbie choose to live with her? She couldn’t even seem to understand that this was Abbie’s last high school hurrah.

The doorbell rang, and Abbie and I rushed to answer it. I expected only Connor and Chris but opened the door to find the entire Ross family, Cevin included.

Amy leaned close for a hug. “I hope you don’t mind our intrusion. I told the boys I couldn’t miss the photo op.”

My mind raced to the chilly scene Abbie and I had just left—Mom and Dad sitting like two sulking children in the living room. “Sure, come in.” I tried to infuse my voice with warmth. They wouldn’t find it anywhere else in this house.

Amy gasped at my sister. “Abigail Marie, don’t you look beautiful! Turn around for me. Oh, that dress is perfect.” Would that have been so hard for Mom to do?

Abbie beamed at the praise. “Skylar helped me.”

“I can tell.” Amy touched the funky beads I’d draped around my sister’s neck last minute.

Okay, so I knew I wasn’t supposed to be doing the fashion thing anymore, but I couldn’t help it when I saw Abbie’s bare neck. She could help wean me. Like how smokers have nicotine patches.

Although, the way Abbie beamed—so confident of being beautiful and loved—I was tempted to raid her closet and start all the other improvement projects I’d thought of.

Connor took one of my hands. “Hey, beautiful.”

My smile froze on my face as I spotted the corsage— two enormous flowers adorned with thick, long ribbons like streamers. Good thing I’d decided there were more important things than looking good.

He started to push it over my hand when Amy stopped him.

“I can’t get a good picture in this light. Where’s the switch?”

“Why not come into the living room?” Mom asked. Apparently at some point, she and Dad had joined us.

I watched for Amy’s reaction to my mom. They hadn’t seen each other since Mom had returned. Amy smiled, still warm, but a little tight. “Hi, Teri. Sorry for invading your home.”

“Not at all. We should have thought to invite you over.” Mom glanced at Cevin, who wriggled in Curtis’s arms, desperate to get down and explore.

Brian must have noticed Mom’s less-than-welcoming gaze. He took Cevin from his son’s skinny arms. “I’ll hold him while we’re inside, buddy. We don’t want him getting loose in the Hoyts’ house and getting hair everywhere.”

As I followed the parade into the living room, I burned with shame at my mother’s frigid behavior. I’d never met anybody nicer than the Rosses. They’d always opened their home to Abbie and me, always made themselves available. I didn’t like seeing them treated so coldly.

Connor’s fingertips brushed the back of my neck. “I can’t believe how lucky I am. You look amazing.”

I blushed. He looked good too, especially when he smiled at me like that. Made it easy to forgive the T. rex corsage. After a few awkward pictures—no one seemed quite sure how to position Chris and Abbie—we headed out for dinner. At Sonic Drive-In.

Seriously.

Abbie had a hankering for corn dogs and convinced the guys to cancel the reservation at the Italian place.

“I’m agreeing to this on one condition only,” Connor said as he steered his SUV into a slot. “If anybody asks, Chris and I fully planned on taking you girls out for a nice dinner.”