Out with the In Crowd (18 page)

Abbie leaned forward for a better look at the menu. “Ooh, chili cheese Coney. I haven’t had one of those in forever.”

“What happened to corn dogs?” I asked.

“They don’t come with chili and cheese.”

“Stop leaning over me.” I nudged her backward. “I don’t want you drooling all over my jacket.”

She giggled and pantomimed licking my coat.

“Ew, gross.” I swatted her away.

Connor’s fingers cupped my knee. “What are you hungry for?”

In the backseat, Abbie giggled about something with Chris. She sure seemed in a good mood for someone on the verge of teen motherhood. Chris’s spirits, I noticed, were muted. Even for him.

Connor placed our order, then we chatted as we waited. Or three of us did. Chris really did seem out of sorts. When he caught me watching him, he smiled a strange, tight smile and looked away.

Abbie bounced in her seat. “Food’s here!”

Connor rolled down his window and said hi to the tiny brunette carhop.

“Hey.” She handed him the bags of food and grinned at our formal wear. “Too late to make reservations?”

Connor sighed as Abbie and I giggled. “Don’t get me started.” When the carhop left, Connor gave me a pained expression. “I bet she thinks I’m some horrible, cheap boyfriend.”

I unwrapped my BLT. “Should we ring her back so I can tell her you took me to three restaurants on Valentine’s Day?”

“Can we please?” he said with a wink.

If only I knew of a way to tell him this was way better— and somehow more romantic—than our dinner tour on the Plaza.

“Oh my gosh, this is so good,” Abbie said through an enormous bite of Coney. “Skylar, remember Dad’s friend who owns those Sonics? With that creepy son who followed you around that one summer?”

“Yeah.”

“Dump Connor and marry him.”

Abbie and I both dissolved into giggles. When did I last have fun? Just let go and laugh so long my stomach ached? This night would be fantastic.

“Do they have Sonic in Hawaii?” Chris asked.

We all stared at him, and I felt my carefree night draining away.

“I don’t know,” Abbie said in a careful voice. She didn’t look at him. “I doubt it.”

“I’m sure somebody on the islands makes Coneys.” Connor held out his fries to me. “Have one. They’re perfect.”

“Have you and your mom found a place yet?” Chris peered innocently at Abbie while sucking on his straw.

“Not yet.”

“What kind of place are you looking for?”

“I don’t know. Mom’s taking care of it.” Her appetite must have slowed. Now she just stared at her dinner.

I gave Connor what I hoped was a “do something” look.

“Who likes my tie?” he asked, raising his own hand. “Two dollars.”

Abbie, Chris, and I all blinked at him. He couldn’t come up with anything better?

“Have you set a moving date yet?” Chris asked.

Abbie stabbed at her hot dog. “You know, I’m not moving tonight, or even in the next month, so why don’t we just drop the subject and enjoy ourselves?”

“Sure.” Chris popped a cheesy tater tot into his mouth. “We wouldn’t want to talk about anything serious, would we? That might spoil our
fun
.” He said
fun
like it tasted bad.

Abbie glared at him. “What does that mean?”

“Chris, now probably isn’t—” But Connor had intervened too late.

“You’re so busy having fun, you don’t realize you’re hurting other people,” Chris said, his volume escalating with each word. Since when did he talk so much?

“In case you haven’t noticed, my fun has an expiration date on it.” Abbie jabbed her stomach with her thumb. “So, sorry I don’t want to sit around and mope about the baby and Hawaii with you. I’d rather enjoy our last dance together.”

“It’s not just me. It’s your sister.”

“It’s not just me.

“Me?” I said.

Abbie looked from Chris to me, then back to Chris. “What?”

“You’re so busy avoiding the baby, Skylar’s having to pick up your slack.”

Abbie laughed one of her big, dramatic laughs. “Avoiding the baby? I
can’t
avoid the baby. You think I just popped into Macy’s and grabbed this dress? You think I sleep well at night with her using my bladder as a trampoline? I
know
I’m having a baby, Chris.”

“What are you naming her?” Chris’s question seemed quiet and gentle compared to Abbie’s yelling.

Her face clouded over. “I haven’t decided. You know that.”

“What are some options? Some thoughts you’ve had?” “I’m not . . . I don’t . . .”

“You’re not what? You don’t what?”

Connor leaned toward me. “Why don’t we give them some privacy?”

“You guys don’t need to leave.” Chris’s tone pinned me to my seat. “You certainly fight in front of us plenty.”

I glanced at Abbie. She looked at me, pleading for a rescue. “Chris, why don’t we hold off on this conversation? Maybe have it after the dance.”

Chris ignored this advice. “I know you’re scared, Abbie, and I get it. But you have to pick a name. You have to buy diapers. You have to make plans. You can’t just leave everything up to your mom and Skylar.” He reached for her hand, clasped it between his own. “And you can’t go to Hawaii.”

Abbie, whose head had been ducked with shame, looked up at him. “What?”

“You can’t go to Hawaii.”

“I . . .” Abbie swallowed. “I have to go.”

“No you don’t.”

“But my mom—”

“Your mom will be fine.”

“But Lance and everyone here—”

“That’s why you want to go?” Chris said. “To get away from Lance and anyone who might disapprove?”

“I guess.” Abbie fussed with her necklace. “It just sounds good, you know? Getting away.”

“Leaving won’t solve anything,” I said. How hypocritical. As if I hadn’t been fantasizing about running off to Hawaii as well.

“Mom’ll be really mad if I back out.” Abbie offered Chris a sweet smile, her eyelashes fluttering, and adjusted his boutonniere with her free hand.

I knew then Abbie would stay.

“How cute are they?”

Connor followed my gaze to the gymnasium bleachers, where Chris and Abbie sat. She had her legs tossed onto his lap, and he smiled at her like she was a prize of some sort. It made me want to squeeze him with gratefulness.

“Looks like things will work out well for them.”

I beamed and rewarded his words with a kiss. “And for us.”

Connor spun me away from him, then yanked me back close. This appeared to be his signature dance move. He’d already done it about four times and seemed to thrive on surprising me. “You did much better that time. No stumbling.”

“I’d like to see you stay on your feet in three-inch heels.”

His nose wrinkled. “No thank you.”

I smiled as he drew me against him.

The dance had been going for about an hour. Lance brought that trampy gossip Marie Green, but Abbie hadn’t seemed to notice. I’d seen Madison dancing happily enough with a guy she’d invited from her work. As for the Lisa-John-Alexis triangle, Lisa had danced at least once with John, but I’d also seen her chatting up one of the German foreign exchange students.

“Uh-oh. Incoming,” Connor muttered into my ear.

I barely had time to say, “What?” when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Eli standing there.

“Hey, guys. How’s it going?” He grinned at me, his white teeth gleaming. “We’re starting the after party a little early out at John’s. You two wanna come?”

“No thanks.” Connor gripped me tighter. Or maybe his fingers just adjusted, I couldn’t be sure.

“Suit yourselves.” Eli winked at me. “Lookin’ good, Skylar.”

He swaggered away, maybe already a little drunk.

Connor rolled his eyes. “What’s wrong with him? Saying that kind of stuff right in front of me?”

Unlike Jodi, who had the class to say it when I was gone?

But I bit the words back. Tonight things had felt normal between us, and it was oh so nice.

“At least they’re all leaving.” I nodded toward the door where Eli helped Jodi into her coat. She laughed at something he said.

“She’s going with them?” Connor groaned. “I thought she’d given all that up.”

I didn’t know what to say. I felt a little proud to be proven right, though I wished I didn’t.

As if sensing this, Connor smiled at me, gentle and appreciative. “I guess you’re not surprised.”

“But maybe you planted some seeds with her.” I snuggled closer. “Her going out tonight doesn’t mean it’s all lost.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He continued to look doubtful.

I grabbed his hand and spun him away from me, then pulled him back in. Connor stumbled, and we knocked into another couple, both of us laughing so hard we could barely apologize.

“Nice move, Hoyt.” He matched his forehead to mine, and when he looked in my eyes, I knew Hawaii couldn’t offer a thing that came close to this.

20

“Skylar, the baby’s coming.”

I jolted out of sleep to find Abbie perched on the edge of my bed, one hand clutching her belly. In her braided pigtails and cartoon pj’s, she looked even more like a kid. Her voice wobbled as she said, “I’m having contractions.”

“Have you been timing them? The book says they should be four minutes apart.” I thanked God that I’d read that part the day before.

“I want to go to the hospital.”

I looked at the clock—2:42. I’d been asleep for maybe an hour. My brain had been too abuzz with thoughts of the dance for me to doze off.

I flipped on my bedside lamp. “Where’s the pregnancy book?”

“I don’t know.” Abbie shielded her eyes. “Who cares about the book? Let’s just go.”

I spotted it on my desk and threw back the covers. “Take deep breaths or lie down or something.”

“I want to go to the hospital.”

“I know,” I said, maybe a little sharper than necessary. “But lie down, okay? I want to see what else the book says. We don’t want to go to the hospital if we don’t need to.”

“We need to. The baby’s coming.” But she curled up under my blankets. “Skylar, I don’t have a name.”

“You’ll come up with one.”

“We don’t have a crib. Or diapers. Or clothes.”

“Yes we do.”

“We do?”

“In the guest bedroom. Everything’s still in the packaging, but it’s in there.”

“You did that for me?” Abbie asked through a yawn.

“Quiet, I’m trying to read.” I scanned the page. “Okay, you’re supposed to have contractions every four minutes, lasting for a minute or longer, for one hour. Then we go to the hospital.”

“When does my water break?”

“When does my “It doesn’t say.”

Another yawn. “Did you buy a car seat? We have to have one to bring her home.”

“The safest one they make.”

“Okay, good.” Long pause. I thought she’d dozed off, but then she said, “She needs a name.”

“She’ll have one. Just relax.”

“I want to go to the hospital.”

By now I’d stopped looking through the book. I just sat there watching her. Sure enough, within a couple minutes, Abbie’s breathing deepened as she dozed off.

I tugged on slippers and relocated to the living room. Unlike my last three a.m. trek downstairs, I found the place dark and isolated. Using the moonlight and my memory, I groped my way to the couch and collapsed. My heart still thundered from Abbie’s words—
“The baby’s
coming.”

What a terrifying sentence.

I didn’t know how to change a diaper, calm a fussy baby, give a bath, use the car seat . . . and the list went on and on. Yet why should I be scared? She wasn’t my baby. Abbie would be doing all those things.

I remembered standing in Babies R Us, overwhelmed by the choices of cribs and car seats and strollers. Where’d Abbie been while I agonized over these decisions? Seeing a movie with her friends? Parked in front of the TV? Doing anything and everything to avoid thinking that she had no idea what her life looked like after March 10?

A new thought chilled me—what did
my
life look like after March 10?

I’d offered to help, but we’d never defined what that meant. Running to the store for diapers? Watching her while Abbie went to school? Midnight feedings?

My head throbbed with the possibilities of what this baby meant for me. It wasn’t fair. I’d been good. I’d abstained. Why should I have to deal with Abbie’s consequences? All I wanted to do this summer was lounge by the pool with Connor. Maybe eat some ice cream. But could I ever feel good about leaving the house, about continuing with my life, while the baby had Abbie chained at home? With Mom in Hawaii and Dad working, she’d really only have me.

I buried my face in the scratchy throw pillow. It was too late—or too early—for these kinds of thoughts. I should think about Connor instead, about the way he’d looked at me, the way he’d kissed me good night. With that happy thought, I snuggled into the couch as best I could and fell asleep.

The black-and-white bathing suit.

I’m in a house, a little house. It’s Grammy and Papa’s,
but they’re nowhere around. It’s just me here in the paneled
living room. The doors and windows are all open, allowing
in the salty breeze, the sounds of rustling foliage. I want to
go outside but can’t move. That stuff I bought at Babies R
Us for Abbie—the bathtub, the cloth diapers, everything—is
scattered at my feet. But Abbie and the baby aren’t here.
They’re back in Kansas. Nothing around me says it, it’s just
one of those things I know.

Mom walks into the room and surveys all the baby junk.
“Look at this mess you made, Skylar. Clean this up.”

Look at this mess you made, Skylar. Clean this
I look around. “I don’t know where to start.”

She opens her mouth and says . . .

“Something wrong with your bed upstairs?”

I cracked open my eyelids to find Mom standing in front of the couch. She appeared to have slept much better than me. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose but mess-free ponytail, and her expensive cotton jammies were wrinkle-free.

“Abbie’s in it.” I stretched. “She freaked out that the baby was coming, said she was having contractions, but then she fell asleep.”