Second to No One (20 page)

“You’re good!” I exclaimed as he wrapped up his fourth lap (I was still on my first).

“Thanks, I love cars,” he said between gritted teeth as he stretched the control to cut a corner. “I have to be honest with you though, we actually have this exact arcade game at our house. I play it all the time.”

An arcade game in his house? I knew that a lot of wealthy people matriculated from Highlands, but I had no idea that the average Clark Nobottom would come from so much money.

“I play the winner!” the shrill voice came from a chubby little kid no older than six that was suddenly standing right at my side. It was hard to concentrate on my race course with him breathing salty pizza sauce breath into my face.

“Sorry,” I said, with my eyes still on the screen. “But I think we’ll be playing for a while.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re losing!” he squealed. “You have to let me play! I’m next in line!”

“Sorry,” I repeated with more annoyance in my voice, even though I wasn’t sorry at all. “But we were here first. You can play when we’re finished.”

“That’s not fair!” he screamed. “I’m going to tell my mom!”

My ears were ringing, and my car was skidding off the track and into a boulder on the side of the virtual road. I heard Clark chuckle softly next to me. He was obviously getting a kick out of my distracting conversation with the boy from Hades. “Fine!” I said, twisting my body to try to get the car back on its course. “Go tell your mom. Whatever it takes to get you away from
he
re
.”

Well, the boy got his mom, but he didn’t leave his spot, “Mom!” he yelled. “Mom!”. I peeked over my shoulder looking for the woman that could have possibly given birth to this kid. “Momeeee!” He was screaming now, and his face was the color—and shape for that matter—of a cherry tomato. My car went off a cliff as Clark won the game, and as the words Game Over flashed brightly before me, a horrid sound came from the direction of the Hades boy. Before my brain could compute what was happening, both Clark and I were covered in three pounds of red, cheesy, acidic, fat boy vomit.

“Mom!” The kid was crying now as pink slobber drooled off his shirt and down to his shoes. The foul smell that accompanied the pool of fluid on my lap and in my hair was too much for me to take. Clark was sitting speechless with his hands in the air, and his eyes shut tight. Both of us were drenched in the stuff, and after you’ve eaten half a Marc’s pizza, you are not in the greatest place—digestively speaking—to handle a stench like that. Before I knew what was happening, both Clark and I were puking all over the arcade game in front of us. I remember the smell and the warmth of my own vomit covering my freshly washed jeans. I remember a lot of noise—kids screaming, parents murmuring in a low tone, “Now that’s a shame.” And then I remember Bridget angrily washing my hair in the bathroom sink while I dabbed at my clothes with a wet paper towel.

“This makes me want to puke,” she said over and over while I held on to the porcelain sink with my eyes shut tight .

“Please don’t.”

We drove home in Rick’s car in complete silence with the windows wide open. Clark took a shower in my parent’s bathroom while my dad found a pair of old pants and a T-shirt that my mom was going to take to goodwill that he could wear. I showered as well and put on “date outfit option 2” that I had laid out that afternoon when I still hoped my date was going to be a dreamy prince that would make me forget Jess Tyler forever.

Something happened, however, between the drive home and all of us sitting at the kitchen table showered and reminiscing the event. I actually felt something resembling a bond starting between Clark and me. Maybe it was the fact that he was wearing my dad’s clothes. Or maybe it was because I’d known him for three hours, and he’d already seen the inside of my parent’s shower. Or maybe that was just what happened when you went through a horrendous experience like that with someone and came out alive on the other side. But whatever it was, Clark and I were buddies, and we spent the rest of the night talking and laughing like we were old friends.

Bridget nudged me silently to walk Clark out to the car at twelve thirty that night. At midnight, Rick had given Bridget a small kiss on the lips, and it wasn’t difficult for me to figure out that she wanted some alone time with Rick at the door so they could finish what they’d started a half hour earlier. Clark and I crossed over the cold, icy grass to Rick’s car that was parked next to the curb. He was listing off his top ten favorite sci-fi movies when a door sounded across the street. We both looked up, and against everything I willed to be true, Jess and Lauren were just coming out of his house and were walking to her car that was parked in his driveway—how had I missed that? My stomach swelled, and the same impulse I’d felt earlier at the arcade began to rise in my throat once more. Clark and I waved politely at their awkward salutations as Jess helped Lauren into her car and walked back into his house. I felt like Jess was a million miles away from me at that moment, like he was a stranger that I didn’t know anymore, that I didn’t understand. I must have stared longer and harder than I meant to because Clark got my attention by saying, “You okay?” He looked back across the street at Jess’s house, and I knew I hadn’t hidden my emotions well.

“Yeah,” I replied, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m great.”

“You sure?” he said, stepping and inch closer to me. “You don’t look so great.”

I dug a small hole in the dirt with my left shoe. “It’s kind of a long story.”

Clark looked back at my house to where Bridget and Rick were talking closely just inside the door. “I think we have a while.”

I took in a deep breath and leaned against the side of Rick’s car. “The guy that we just saw, that’s—”

“Jess Tyler,” he finished. “I know.”

“You know Jess?” I asked, a little perturbed. I knew Jess was popular in Franklin, but in Highlands too?

“I’ve been playing baseball against him for years,” Clark explained.

“You play baseball?” I didn’t mean for that to sound nearly as stereotypical as it did.

Clark smirked. “I know I don’t look like the baseball type.” He wrapped his hand around his neck and took hold of the band holding his glasses on his head. “I got this when I was nine because my glasses kept slipping off my head. My nose isn’t proportioned right for them or something. And I can’t wear contacts because they give me infections. So I had to make the choice when I was nine years old whether to push my glasses up for the rest of my life or be classified as a geek. I went with geek.”

I didn’t mean to, but I looked down at the pens in his pocket. What was his excuse going to be for them?

He read my thoughts and clutched one of the pens in his hand. “And these are just a joke to go along with the rest of my motif. Kind of a self-mutilation thing.” He laughed at himself then added, “But honestly, you have no idea how handy these are. People ask to borrow pens all the time.”

When I finally looked beyond the glasses and pens, I noticed that his face was actually kind of cute—in a young Justin Beiberish kind of way—and in his eyes shined an unexpected air of confidence.

“Anyway,” he concluded, “geek or no geek, Clark
can
throw a baseball, and that’s how I know Jess.”

Oh yeah, Jess—and Lauren. I had almost forgotten about them during Clark’s entertaining self-analysis.

“So what’s the story?” he pushed carefully. “Is he an old boyfriend or something?”

“I guess you could say that. He broke up with me at the beginning of the school year and now he’s dating one of my friends.”

Clark grimaced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, it stings a little.”

“I guess that’s why you should never date your neighbor. You have a front row seat of him moving on.”

Clark’s comment was innocent, but it wrenched at my heart. Jess was so much more to me than just my neighbor, and to think that he was always going to be a name on the list of “Boys I’d Kissed Once” made me ache in places I didn’t even know I had.

“You know what you need?” Clark said with a newfound energy.

“A gallon of cookie dough ice cream?”

He ignored my joke. “You need to experience the Ice Box.”

“The what?”

“The Ice Box,” he repeated. “It’s what we call the lodge at Sapphire Valley Ski Resort. I work there.”

“You work at the lodge? What do you do?”

“I’m just a bus boy. I like working in the restaurant, but I’m not old enough to be a waiter. The pay isn’t the best, but I get to ski for free.”

“You ski too?” Seriously, if you would have taken one look at Clark Nobottom, you would have been surprised too.

Clark grabbed a pen from his pocket. “Give me your hand.”

I did as he said, and he wrote down a website on my palm. “There are all sorts of jobs available from people who are leaving for college next year. They’re hiring this spring, so you should fill out one of the online applications. Training starts next fall.”

“What kind of training?”

“It depends what job you apply for. Do you ski?”

I thought about Jess dragging me to Sapphire Valley for the past five winters of my life, trying to get me to ski with him. I had hated it at first. There wasn’t anything enjoyable at all about being stuck in cement-like boots on a freezing hill with crazy snowboarders whizzing past my ears. But Jess loved it, and even back then—before my crush, our kiss, and all the heartache—I loved being with him, so I went. “A little.” I shrugged. “But I’m not good enough to get paid for it. Maybe I could be a hostess at the restaurant or something.”

“You won’t regret it.” Clark smiled. “The Ice Box has a way of changing people.”

I considered all this as I watched Rick’s car drive down our long, narrow street and out of sight. Bridget had already made her way inside and I was about to follow her when I heard my name called out from the direction of Jess’s front yard. I turned toward the sound, and sure enough, Jess was trotting across the street and onto my lawn.

“Hey.” He was a little out of breath. “Were you just with Clark Nobottom?”

I smiled with half of my lips. “What, were you watching us through your front window waiting for him to leave?”

Jess frowned. “I could say I just came out here to get my mail, but who gets their mail at this time of the night?”

“Nobody,” I said, allowing myself to laugh only slightly.

“Well, I feel like I have to make up excuses to see you these days.” He blew warm air into his hands. “I didn’t even see you on Christmas.”

I don’t rem
ember you trying to.
“Yeah, well, I’ve been pretty busy.”

“How did the pictures turn out? Did you take them to Tag?”

“Yeah, they turned out great actually. He sent me a Christmas card with a picture in it. It looked really good.”

Jess nodded and bounced his knees a little to keep warm. “So what’s the deal with you and Clark? How do you know him?”

“I just met him tonight actually. We went on a double date with Bridget and his brother.”

“Huh.” Jess considered this information then kicked at a mound of dirt with his shoe. “He’s an amazing pitcher.”

“Amazing? Clark? Really?”

“Yeah, he’s one of the best in our region actually. People are always trying to recruit him, but he’s pretty loyal to Highlands.” Jess cocked his head. “Is your hair wet?”

I reached for the tips of my hair. “Oh yeah, I just showered.”

“While you were on a date?”

“Clark and I got puked on by this kid at the arcade.” I smiled at the memory.

“Sounds fun.”

“It actually was.”

“So this must mean you’re off probation.”

“Yeah. Tonight was the first night. I was feeling withdrawals being away from my house all night.”

“It’s crazy that it’s been three months since your accident.”

“What about you?” I said, nodding toward the empty spot on the street where Lauren’s car had once been. “What did you two do tonight?”

“Not a lot. We just played games with my family.”

I hated the thought of Lauren being in his house, talking with his mom, bonding with his little sisters. “You played games all night?” I asked skeptically. I knew for a fact that Ceris wouldn’t allow Viv and Mags to stay up that late even if it was New Year’s Eve.

“Well, for a while, and then Lauren and I, we um…watched a movie.”

A movie? In the dark? On New
Year’s Eve?
The jealousy swelled in my stomach, and I kind of wanted to go throw a grenade at Lauren’s house…or maybe just at Lauren. “Sounds fun.”

“I miss you,” he whispered in a soft, supple voice. It caught me off guard, and my knees almost buckled underneath me. I had no idea what he meant by that or how I should respond, so I pursed my lips and said nothing. “Do you think we’re ever going to get past all this? I mean, we’re both dating other people. We’re both moving on.”

I couldn’t look him in the eye, so I blinked a few times and examined the gray cement in front of me. “Yeah, definitely. That whole thing between us was so long ago. I barely think about it anymore.”

“So why do I feel like you’re avoiding me?” When I finally looked at his eyes, they looked desperate and sincere. “You said you wanted to be friends, but things still don’t feel the same.”

I couldn’t answer because I couldn’t lie to him. How was I supposed to tell him that the reason I was avoiding him, the reason I did everything in my power to stay as far away from him as possible was because even now, after months of trying to get past it, I still wasn’t.

“I miss that.” Jess’s eyes sparkled as he examined my face.

“You miss what?”

He cocked his head to one side and rubbed his index finger along my jaw line. “That cute, perplexed look you get when you’re trying to figure out how to explain what you’re thinking.”

It was true. I was completely, one hundred percent perplexed. Why was he acting this way? Why was he saying these things? How could he miss me so much when he was the one who ended things? I wanted to ask it out loud. I wanted to get answers. But I didn’t.

I stepped away from his touch. Not because I wanted to but, because I had to. He had broken my heart. He was dating my friend. And I wasn’t about to let him be the one to step away first. Not this time.