Out with the In Crowd (2 page)

I groaned. “I just wish senior year was over.”

“Hey.” Connor stopped walking and faced me. “No doom and gloom. We’re gonna have fun, okay?”

“’Kay.”

He slugged my shoulder. “See ya around, Hoyt.”

He took off down a branching hallway to his art class, and I continued toward English, smiling. Connor and I had started as friends. Well,
friends
wasn’t the right word because he annoyed me, and Connor thought I was a spoiled brat. But Connor was the only one who had really supported my strides toward a life transformation, and that fused us. At first, dating felt awkward. We knew how to hang out and secretly pine for each other, but being a traditional couple—going on dates, saying “I love you”— felt foreign. Now, two and a half months later, we’d found a good mix of shoulder slugging and PDAs.

Inside the classroom, I spotted Jodi and Alexis huddled together, and the smile drained from my face. At one point in time, I’d have taken my rightful seat with them. But now I assumed they gossiped about me.

Funny, last semester I’d grown so accustomed to their snickers and snide remarks that I hardly noticed them anymore. My two-week break had apparently softened me. I wanted to hang my head and shuffle to a seat, but I mustered the energy to match them glare for glare and strut to the opposite side of the room.

“This seat free?” I asked Madison Embry.

Her dark eyes widened. We’d barely spoken to each other since sophomore year. “Yeah.”

I glanced at Jodi and Alexis once more before sliding into the chair. Alexis’s face burned red, and I could guess why. Several years ago, Madison caused the breakup of Alexis and her boyfriend, and my group never allowed her back in, never let her forget what she’d done. Though it was no longer
my
group, but Jodi’s.

Madison followed my gaze. “Hmm.”

“What?”

“Just noticing I’m no longer public enemy number one.” She gave me a wry smile. “You must like him a lot.”

“Who, Connor?” I asked. Madison nodded. “It’s not entirely about that.”

“He seems like a nice guy, but is he really worth losing all your friends?”

I glowered. “This is none of your business.”

She held up her hands, surrendering. “
You
sat by
me
.” I turned away. I didn’t need more enemies, I needed friends. I began the school year as the queen, the one everyone wanted to be, or at least be around. And now . . . well, now I was on the receiving end of friendship lectures.

“Hey,” Madison said, her voice soft. “I heard about your sister. How’s she doing?”

“Abbie’s strong.”

“I always liked Abbie. I mean, you could tell she might be trouble, but I liked her.”

I didn’t reply, just focused on writing my name, the class, and the date on the first sheet of my notebook. I’d committed to being a better student this semester, although I’d already damaged my chances of getting into a killer college. Luckily, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and was happy to spend a couple years at Johnson County Community College figuring it out.

Madison picked at her nail polish, same as she’d done years ago when uncomfortable. “Is she keeping the baby?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t she need to decide that soon?”

The old me would’ve ordered her to shut her trap, but I didn’t know how to nicely tell someone they were pushing my limits. Especially Madison, who not so long ago I might have called with intimate details.

She solved the problem for me. “Never mind.” She waved me away with a hand. “We’re not friends anymore. I’m being nosy.”

Somehow, her saying this made me want to tell her, but I bit back the answer. Too many people had burned me recently. I’d lost interest in trusting anyone.

2

I cringed as I eavesdropped on Chris and Abbie’s attempts at normal conversation. Polite exchanges about teachers and homework. Abbie’s voice sounded tight—nerves?— as she shared a lunchroom anecdote. Made me miss the endless stream of flirtatious chatter they used to annoy me with.

The strain between our siblings didn’t seem to affect Connor. He acted as playful as ever, tugging at my hair, calling me
mon cherie
in an over-the-top French accent. Though I often rolled my eyes at it, I normally enjoyed Connor’s silliness, but with Abbie and Chris in the car, it seemed insensitive.

“Why so crabby?” Connor asked as he pulled down my street. Our tradition of carpooling to school began last semester, before he had a car. We’d intended to trade off driving responsibilities, but I rarely drove anymore.

“I’m not crabby.”

“You are. Should we head to Sheridan’s? Do a little custard therapy?”

“It’s twenty degrees outside. I don’t want to freeze while waiting for my ice cream.”

“Bet the line would be short.” Connor grinned at me.

When I responded with a bland smile, he gave an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, fine, I’ll just take you home.”

With the car idling in my driveway, Connor leaned across the console to kiss me good-bye. I pecked him on the lips, but he caught my arm before I unfastened my seat belt.

“Come on, that was horrible.” He hovered nearby. I glanced in the backseat, where Chris brooded alone now that Abbie had shot out of the car. Connor laughed. “He’s seen us kiss before.”

He pulled me close for an admittedly much better kiss, then tousled my hair. “Scram, girl.”

I laughed as I slipped out of the car. How’d he do that? In a matter of seconds, he could snap me from cranky to delighted.

“This sucks,” Abbie said as Connor backed out of the driveway. “I thought spending a couple weeks apart from each other would make all this easier.”

“Since when does time apart make anything easier?”

She rubbed her swollen stomach like she often did these days when fretting. “You should see Chris and Lance around each other. They both try helping me, and it turns into this weird competition. And you know how I feel about Chris, but it doesn’t change that Lance is the father. He deserves to help if he wants.” She sighed. She’d been doing a lot of that recently too. “I just don’t know what the right thing is to do.”

A big sister should have advice for her little sister. I longed to say something poignant to Abbie, something soothing.

I fumbled my key into the lock. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

I cringed at my words. Almost anything would’ve been better than that careless statement. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, I don’t know what you should do either, but I’m sure you’re handling it fine.”

Abbie’s gaze rested on my face, the lids of her cinnamon eyes heavy with fatigue. “Am I?”

I nodded. “Don’t worry about the guys. That’ll solve itself in time.” I gestured to her belly. “Focus on what you want to do with this little guy or gal.”

“Just four more days and we’ll know.”

“Hopefully,” I said. Why did I always have to do that, throw in that negative spin?

“Yeah.” Abbie looked at her stomach. “Hopefully.”

“I’m sure the baby will cooperate this time.”

On Friday, Abbie would have a sonogram that we hoped would reveal the gender of the baby. During her previous one, he or she had been sleeping and had no interest in moving. I’d kidded Abbie about the baby clearly being hers—stubborn. She’d burst into tears, and I felt like a horrible sister.

“If not, I guess you’ll just be a surprise.” Abbie gave her stomach a tender pat, and I wondered for the thousandth time if Abbie intended to keep the baby. Her official position was “undecided,” but more and more she acted attached. And why shouldn’t she be, especially now that the baby moved so much?

When I popped open the door, the scent of chocolate chip cookies greeted us.

“Man, that smells good.” Abbie tossed her backpack to the foot of the staircase. “Did the guys accidentally drop us off at
their
house?”

“I heard that!” Mom called from the kitchen. “You really think Amy Ross is the only one who knows how to whip up a batch of cookies?”

“This I have to see for myself,” I whispered to Abbie.

She grinned, and we traveled the short hallway to the kitchen. There we saw a spectacular sight—our mom sporting an apron and mitts as she pulled a sheet of cookies from the oven. A Viking, to be more specific. She insisted on buying it last fall, even though she never cooked anything more complicated than Stouffer’s lasagna. But Mom always had a thing for owning the best of the best, necessary or not.

“You’re making cookies,” I said.

“You’re making cookies,”

Mom beamed. “Yep.”

“From scratch?” Abbie asked.

“Refrigerated cookie dough. It’s still effort.”

“It’s great, Mom.” I snatched a cooling cookie and took a bite. “They taste great.”

And they did. That’s not to say Amy Ross’s didn’t taste better, but I’d happily eat these forever if it meant having Mom at home.

Not too long ago, we often came home from school to find Mom either closed inside her room napping or absorbed in furniture catalogs as she planned elaborate redecorating. In October, when Abbie broke the news of her pregnancy, Mom left. We didn’t hear from her for a month, and Abbie and I had both lost hope of Mom ever returning. But Dad kept calling her, kept leaving messages on her cell, until she randomly showed up at our weekly family counseling session.

Things between Mom and Dad still weren’t great—Dad spent his nights in the guest bedroom, and dinner conversation often felt forced—but at least there was hope.

Mom rested a hand on Abbie’s shoulder. “How you feeling, honey?”

“Like I need a glass of milk.” She shuffled past Mom to the refrigerator.

Mom gave me a quizzical look, but I shrugged. We’d all noticed how Abbie dodged pregnancy questions, but I didn’t think we should push her yet. She’d be forced to deal with reality soon enough. March 10, if we could trust the due date.

Mom transferred the cookies to wire baking racks for cooling. “Your father called. They won a large bid today, and we thought we’d all go out tonight and celebrate. That okay with you girls, or do you have too much homework?”

Abbie dipped her cookie into the milk. “I’m never too busy for celebrating.”

Mom glanced at me but looked away before asking, “Do you think Connor would want to come?”

“He’s busy tonight, but thanks.”

Okay, so that wasn’t exactly true, but I dreaded being in the same room with my mom and Connor. She loved him, but she didn’t like the idea of me dating anyone.

The house rule had always been no dating until we left for college, though it wasn’t a rule Abbie and I ever followed—I’d dated Eli on the sly, and Abbie, well, she’d had her share of boyfriends. Connor and I happened around the time Mom pulled her disappearing act. When she moved back into the house, she tried breaking us up, but Dad overruled her, a first in my memory. Things were just plain awkward whenever Connor came over, so I mostly hung out at the Rosses’.

When we’d finished our cookies, Abbie and I headed upstairs, me to complete what little homework I had, and she to nap. I’d just cracked open
Wuthering Heights
when Abbie entered through our bathroom, already dressed in her pj’s.

“You should ask Connor to come tonight. Mom needs to get used to the idea of you dating.”

I looked at her. “You should figure out what to do about the baby.”

Abbie’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry. I thought this was one of those things where we give each other advice we don’t want to hear.” I turned back to my book. “This thing with Connor and Mom is none of your business.”

“Don’t you want them to get used to each other?”

“What does it matter? It’s not like it’ll be an issue much longer.”

Abbie’s eyes went wide, and she sank to my bed. “You think Mom’s going to leave again?”

“No!” My voice came out high and squeaky. I steadied it. “No, I meant that I’ll be starting college. Mom’s not going anywhere.”

Abbie still looked unsure. “You don’t think so?”

I shook my head. “Abbie, she’s downstairs baking. Dad comes home for dinner now. Life’s back on track. It’s good.”

“Maybe too good.”

Her words touched a nerve. I’d had the same thought at the first whiff of those chocolate chip cookies. Life was unsettlingly good.

“I think it’s too good to last,” Abbie said.

“You’re being paranoid,” I told her—and myself. “They hit a rough patch, but Mom and Dad love each other. They’re working through it.”

She pushed herself off the bed. “I hope you’re right.”

With that, she left my room. And left me nervous.

3

“You know, this used to be much cheaper for me,” Connor said as he handed the cashier a ten-dollar bill.

“I offered to pay.”

Connor became serious. “Never. When we’re out, I pay for you.”

“But I don’t mind—”

“
I
mind. I don’t know how it was with Eli, but I don’t believe in letting girls pay.”

An employee appeared at the window with our ice cream. “Caramel pretzel crunch.” She smiled as she held out Connor’s turtle sundae. “I wondered if I was making this for you.”

Connor accepted his ice cream with a grin. “Thanks, Rachel.”

The girl—Rachel, apparently—gave me a sheepish smile and disappeared from the window. She was cute, in a sweet and simple kind of way. I hated the jealous tickle in my chest, something I’d never experienced much before Connor. Of course, I’d never been in love before.

“I don’t know how it was with Jodi either, but no flirting with other girls.”

Connor fit his arm around my waist. “Boy, you’re strict.”

“So.” I eyed Abbie and Chris perched on a concrete bench. They must’ve given up on making conversation, because they sat there as stony as their seat. “Do we join them?”

“Nah. They need some time alone.” Connor guided me to the remaining bench. “Today’s a hard day for Chris.”

I shot him a sharp look. “It’s hard for Abbie too.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t,” Connor said, his voice careful. “But today the baby became more real to Chris. To Abbie, the baby’s been real for a while.”

I checked my cell phone for missed calls. None. “I still can’t believe Mom and Dad missed the sonogram. That’s so weird.”