Remember When (Remember Trilogy #1) (15 page)

   By lunchtime, I was all fired up. Which, in my world, meant my Big Plan was nothing more than to give him the cold shoulder, letting him know that I wasn’t going to be his hungry little lemming anymore, being so available to him in exchange for the few crumbs he’d deign to throw at my feet.

   So, when Trip sat down next to me and gave me a big, grinning, “Hey there,” I completely ignored him and turned my attentions across the table to talk to Cooper.

   “It was such a good game on Saturday! I couldn’t believe the score. What was the final? Twenty-eight to ten?”

   Coop swiped the back of his hand across his chocolate milk mustache and said proudly. “Twenty-eight to
seven
.”

   “Wow, seven! Even better. God, and that wasn’t even counting your last touchdown that the ref ruled out!”

   Trip, unwilling to be ignored, thought he was being funny when he nudged me in the arm. “Layla? Hellooo. What? You don’t even say hi?”

   I gave out a sigh, as if I thought him rude for interrupting. I turned my head to face him and used the most bored
voice imaginable to say, “Hi,” then went back to my conversation with Coop.

   “It’s so weird that that was the last game. I’m not going to know what to do with myself on Saturdays now!”

   Cooper gave me a dirty look out of the corner of his eye, smiled and invited, “I’m sure we could think of something.”

   I didn’t hesitate to smile back and respond, “I bet you could.”

  
Game on.

   I knew I was being overbright and more than a little flirty while talking to my ex-boyfriend right in front of Trip. He’d never seen me like that before and I’m sure he’d thought I’d gone schizo. But I wanted to show him that even though
he
didn’t think I was all that and a bag of chips, there were plenty of other guys who did. Plenty of other guys who would be
honored
to have the full force of my attentions. Plenty of other guys that wouldn’t make me feel like I was wasting my time.

   I locked onto Trip with my peripheral vision, could tell he was intensely watching my conversation with Coop like it was a tennis match, a dazed look on his perfect mug. Good. He probably didn’t know what the hell was going on, but at least I had the satisfaction of throwing him off balance.

   Cooper took my response as motivation, leaned across the table and said matter-of-factly, “Well, okay then. We’ll have to think of something to do on Saturday.”

   His tone made it clear that he was asking me out for more than just an ice cream soda at the corner drugstore, and that it was already a foregone conclusion that I’d agree.

   I couldn’t help noticing how his eyes flicked toward Trip for just the slightest second which was sort of weird in a pissing contest kind of way. But I was even more aware of my surprise at how willing Coop was to take the bait. Even though I’d been flirting like mad with him, I was still startled that he’d actually asked me out so quickly. I felt kind of guilty for leading him on, but I was too far gone to turn back now.

   I gave a shrug, like it was no big deal that Coop had just propositioned me in front of our entire group of friends and said, “Yeah. Sure! Sounds like a plan.
It’ll be nice to hang with, you know, a
guy
again.”

   Rymer chimed in with, “So then why the hell are you making plans with Coop?”

   Cooper gave him the finger as Sargento and Pickford joined in with Rymer’s rowdy whooping, and I smiled so wide it hurt, trying to make it look like I was having the time of my life, all the while ignoring the disapproving glance I got from Lisa.

   Everyone knew that I’d been spending a lot of time with Trip, but no one knew for sure just exactly what we’d been up to together. The rumor mill had probably assumed that Trip was only slumming around with me because he was getting some. In one fell swoop, I’d managed to let everyone know that my constant companion was more of a “girlfriend” to me than a boyfriend.

   In other words, with one spiteful comment, I’d managed to completely emasculate him.

   It wasn’t exactly what I’d set out to accomplish- ripping him to shreds while simultaneously giving the impression that I was some sort of pent-up slut- and I realized for the first time how powerful the weapon of words could be. When you’re popular, people listen
.

   Believe me, it wasn’t a pleasant revelation.

   Trip was uncharacteristically quiet after that, but after what I’d just done to him, what did I expect? I’d felt justified at the time, but I started to feel awful about tearing him down. Technically, Trip was still “The New Kid”, coming to some strange town with all new people, trying to fit in, and there I was, treating him like a pariah at the cool kids’ table. The pang of guilt ate away at me as I gnawed at my bottom lip through a fake smile.

   When the bell rang, Trip followed on my heels across the hall, but I pretended not to notice. Just as I went to grab my books, he stepped in front of my open locker. He put his hand on my arm, did a quick scan to make sure we weren’t being watched and leaned in to ask under his breath, “What the hell was that in there?”

   I was trying to recover from the bolt of electricity that was running through me at the nearness of him, but I managed an innocent, “What the hell was what?” as I shook off his hand and squatted down to retrieve my books.

   Trip stood to the side, allowing me access to my locker, which I was pawing through with abandon. “Come on, Layla. You
know
what. Why are you treating me like I’m some piece of garbage all of a sudden? Did I do something?”

  
Ha!

   I shrugged off his question and said evasively to his knee, “Trip, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to get to class right now, okay?”

   I stood up to leave, but he slapped a hand up on the wall next to my head, obstructing my path. I clutched my books to my chest as he backed me against the lockers, blocking my escape. His eyes were shooting icicles as he spat out, “Oh, really? You have no idea what I’m talking about? That’s just an ordinary day for you, then, huh. Hanging all over Coop Benedict, treating me like a disease... Obviously, you’re pissed about something.”

   My heart was beating like crazy, having him that close. His arm braced on the wall next to my head, the entire length of his body just inches from mine, from the tips of our noses right down to our knees. Kids were shoving their way through the halls, bumping into Trip’s back every few seconds, pushing him even closer against me, his chest pressing against my book-laden arms in waves. My eyes were shooting up and down the corridor, trying to look anywhere but at his face,
not an easy task considering it was only two inches away from my own. “Why would I be pissed?” I said like the fraud that I was.

   “I don’t know, Lay. Why don’t you tell me?”

   He looked so broken, so legitimately hurt, but I was determined not to get sucked in. All I wanted was to tear into him, make him explain what he put me through over the weekend, lay everything out on the table. But what would be the point? The only thing I could hope to accomplish would be to force Trip to say out loud what I’d already learned to be true: If I was in love with him, that was my problem to deal with. I didn’t think I could bear hearing him say outright that he didn’t feel the same.

   I guess he took my silence for stubbornness, because the next thing I knew, he pushed off the wall and threw his hands up in the air. “Fine. You want to play games, go right ahead. I don’t have time for this. You want to talk, you know how to find me.” At that, he stormed off, throwing a punch at a random locker mid-stride on his way down the hall.

Chapter 19

DISTURBED

   I’d spent the next few days after our big blowout retreating away from Trip. Not that I had to work very hard to do so; He had pretty much made it a point to avoid me, too.

   The tension between he and I during that time was a tangible thing; a thick, heavy, syrupy smog that hung like a wet wool blanket in the air between us. But soon enough, we fell into a new normal; keeping things civil, simply pretending that our prior relationship never existed. It panged my heart sometimes, not having him there to joke around with or talk to, but I knew I needed to suffer the detox first before I could even begin to look forward to any sort of rehab later.

   English Lit class- previously the highlight of my day- became so awkward and stressful that I would spend more of my class time concentrating on
not
thinking of the person sitting behind me than paying attention to the lessons being disseminated.

   Then there was my job. As excruciating as it would have been to face work had he been there, it was even worse to face it while he wasn’t. The job went back to being the same sucky chore that it was the first week I started. Without Trip, it ceased to be fun anymore, regardless of the fact that we were hardly speaking. Add to that the fact that Martin had hired some thirty-year-old degenerate as Trip’s replacement who spent more time getting high in the parking lot and trying to sneak a peek down my blouse than actually doing any work. Thankfully, I only had to deal with Dirtbag Ray on Mondays and Thursdays.

   The weekends were their own train wreck.

   Lisa and Pickford were practically inseparable and therefore MIA at that point, leaving me to hit every party alone, or worse yet, with Coop, the poor guy roped unknowingly into my drama. I supposed I was only reaping what I had sown, but it was torture not only to have to look at a misled Coop every day, but to see Trip stroll through the door with a new girl on his arm every night. A circumstance made more agonizing by the revelation that he’d obviously not been exclusive with Tess Valletti for quite some time.

   The first Friday, it was Barbara Vlajnik, whose reputation was less than pristine. I watched her sidle up against him throughout the evening at Rymer’s, but was able to take some perverted sense of pride out of the fact that he barely even looked in her direction all night.

   But then just twenty-four hours later, he showed up at The Barrens with Margie Caputo, where he proceeded to down about three hundred beers before nuzzling his lips against her neck and trying to shove his hand up the front of her sweater in full view of everyone sitting around the fire. Thankfully, Margie hadn’t been so receptive to his exhibitionism, but we did all hear her try to talk him into the woods for a more private session instead. Soon after, they got up to take their leave- in Margie’s car, however- where I heard later that she’d brought him home only to watch as he promptly passed out two steps inside the foyer.

   The following weekend, Pickford and Penelope had a party at their house. Pick was going through a bit of a defiant phase toward his father and what better way to rebel than by defiling the old man’s condo?

   Trip came staggering through the door of The Redys’ with a bottle of Jaegermeister in one hand and some skank from Norman Valley in the other. Lord only knows where he picked that one up. She was even more drunk than he was, taking digs at any girl within earshot about being “nuns in training” while she hung all over Trip, downing shots of booze straight from the bottle.

   When I couldn’t watch another minute, I asked Coop to drive me home. On the way out the door, Trip shouted at my back in the most
awful
voice, “Have a good time, you two!” Then out of nowhere, the skank decided to chime in by saying, “Hell knows we sure will!” before drooping a bony arm around Trip’s neck and adding, “Right, baby?”

   They both enjoyed a good laugh at that.

   It was enough to turn my stomach.

   My mind kept seeing that filthy waif hanging all over him, contaminating him with her skank spores
.
Even worse was the fact that Coop assumed I pushed to leave the party early because I wanted to be alone with him, leading to a very distracted makeout session in the back seat of his car. And no, the hypocrisy was not lost on me that I was unable to put my heart into making out with Coop while my mind was consumed with thoughts of Trip hooking up with someone else. But I knew I was only dating Cooper because I’d cornered myself into it, not because I had any desire to actually be with him, selfish witch that I was. Besides, old habits die hard. Being with Coop was easy. It was familiar and constant and held no surprises. Trip, on the other hand, was maintaining his impulsiveness. He seemed to genuinely be enjoying all the attention he was receiving from his multitude of clingers and the thought ate away at me that he might actually fall in love with one of them.

   Lisa informed me the next day that Pickford had sent the skank home in a cab once he realized that Trip was about to pass out- right in the middle of the entire party. Apparently, he spent the night on the Redys’ couch but snuck out early the next morning. Pickford woke up to a twenty tacked to his bedroom door, where Trip had simply scribbled “Thanks. Sorry.” across the front of the bill.