So Into You [The Jane Austen Academy Series #2] (8 page)

And yet she knew that wasn’t fair. Her problems weren’t Lizzie’s fault. And Lizzie had her own problems.

She hurried back to her room, her stomach growling since she’d been too busy making lunch to actually eat any.

She pushed into her room—and stopped short.

Edward spun around in her swivel chair. He abruptly stood when she entered, tripped, then righted himself.

"What are you doing in my room?"

"Hey, Ellie. Thought you might be hungry."

He pointed to her bed—to a tray with a beet salad lunch plate and a glass of iced tea.

"Anne mentioned the lunch rush would be crazy," he added when she didn’t say anything. "I brought the tray to the lunch room but she saw me and said maybe to leave it here . . . sorry . . . should I go?"

"No!" She wanted to hug him, but worried she’d smell too awful for that. "Thank you—this is . . . the nicest thing. I’m so hungry—but if you don’t mind . . . I feel kind of . . ."

"Oh, right." He grinned. "A shower. I’ll wait."

"You’ll wait?" she asked.

"Yeah. We gotta make those four million seconds count. Just in case."

She grinned hard as she grabbed a change of clothes and her shower caddy. She’d never taken a faster shower. She didn’t bother with drying her hair and instead pulled it back into a loose bun at her neck. She towel dried but knew there were still errant drops of moisture on her arms and legs as she pulled on her board shorts and a tank top.

She also brushed her teeth—for good measure.

She didn’t know why she was so unsure of Edward. He always pulled away just as things were going great. Maybe he was just shy about making the first move because he wanted to be sure that she was sure. So she needed to show him she was sure.

She did a second brushing and took a swig of mouthwash.

He was right—they needed to make those four million seconds count. Starting with right now.

Ellie made it back to the room in just over five minutes. Edward was still turning in the chair and he pulled up beside her bed as she sat on it, picked up the fork, and speared a beet.

Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry anymore.

"Do you hate beets?" he asked nervously as she twirled the fork.

"No . . . not at all . . ." She had no idea how to approach this. How to get closer to him. His hand was on the bed, so she laid her palm on top of his.

His whole arm went rigid.

She stared at him, willing him to look at her.

Finally he lifted his head. Their eyes met.

"Thank you again," she said.

"No problem," he croaked, clearing his throat.

Ellie leaned in closer so there could be no mistaking her interest, no misinterpretation, no possibility of pulling away.

She heard Edward’s breath quickening, felt his pulse beating at his wrist where their hands touched.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, his lips inching closer. His eyes squeezed shut.

"Edward?" she whispered.

With a groan, he pulled away and wrenched his hand out from under hers. "You should eat," he said. "There’s not much time before class. I’ll see you later."

"Edward—" But he was out the door.

Ellie felt queasy, her hunger returning with confusion and frustration. He liked her. He must! Why wouldn’t he just kiss her? Why couldn’t they just admit it?

Why did her mom have to be right?

When you wanted something too much, the universe took it away.

* * *

When she returned to her room after dinner service, she pulled out her homework, forcing herself to concentrate. The most foolish thing to do would be to fail her classes after working so hard, both mentally and physically, to stay.

She had just finished the last assigned question when Emma twirled into the room.

"Where have you been?" Ellie hissed. "You missed a whole day of class!"

"I’ve been
everywhere
," Emma said dreamily. "After Josh and I watched the sunrise, we drove to the ocean. You would have loved it. Tons of hot surfers. The waves just like you’re always describing them."

"You missed
school
."

"So I wouldn’t miss
life
." Emma fell back on her bed. "We ate shrimp tacos off this taco cart, right on the beach. Then Josh rented a motorcycle and he took me on a ride through the hills."

"Does he even have a license?"

"No," Emma admitted. "But he learned how to ride for a movie role and the rental guy recognized him—people everywhere recognized him! It was so exciting, having people come up to us and see me as his girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Ellie took a breath. "Emma, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. Unless he asked—"

"Asked? We’re not in the first grade. I just know," Emma said. "Besides, he invited me to the Teen Movie Awards this weekend!"

"Aren’t your parents coming for Parents’ Weekend?"

"I told them I had plans," Emma said.

"You cancelled on them—for Josh? For a maybe kinda sorta boyfriend?"

"Just because he hasn’t asked me out doesn’t mean we’re not together. Just now, when we were walking back, Knight was in the hall and said hi and Josh put his arm around my waist. He practically announced we’re together."

"That sounds more like possessiveness because he’s jealous."

"That’s ridiculous." Emma sat up and stared at her. "What’s going on with you, Ellie? You’re being so negative. I got asked to the Teen Movie Awards!"

"I know, I know," Ellie groaned. "It’s so cool. It’s the coolest thing ever!"

"I know, right?"

Ellie finally grinned, letting Emma’s enthusiasm wash over her. "It’ll be amazing. You’ll have to text me every second of the whole thing."

"I won’t be able to stop myself, I’m sure," Emma said. "But what’s up with you—something wrong?"

Ellie hesitated. "It’s just . . . if someone doesn’t need to ask you out for you to be dating, when do you know you’re dating? I mean . . . if there doesn’t need to be like this official asking thing, how do you know when you’re together? How are you supposed to know? Why can’t there just be this really obvious talk. Like a decision that’s made. Like a switch that you flip so you know you’re on and you don’t have to guess and wonder and drive yourself crazy!"

Emma lifted a brow. "Did something happen with Edward?"

"Not really," Ellie said, summing up how he’d brought her lunch, then pulled away.

"Mixed signals," Emma said. "I dunno, Ellie. I’ve always had a bad feeling about him."

The trouble with Emma’s feelings is that they were usually right.

Chapter Five

Parents began arriving as early as six in the morning on Friday of Parents’ Weekend. Ellie could hear them in the hall squealing and in the parking lot beeping their horns. Hers were on a plane to Guatemala, convinced they would find a reason that would make her abandon Jasta and join them.

As she got ready for another day of breakfast service, a day with twice the work because they would also be serving parents, she was half tempted to hop a plane herself.

Her entire body ached. Her shoulders twitched with pain. Her hands were dry from the dish soap that had managed to seep into her gloves.

She had no more free time. She hadn’t seen the ocean in ages and with every weekend from now until eternity booked in food service, she wouldn’t ever be able to go surfing.

"What do you think of this one?" Emma asked.

Ellie lifted her heavy head off the pillow, surprised to find Emma already awake. She was holding a bright orange dress up against her cami and turning at all angles in the mirror.

"It’s nice."

"But is it Teen Movie Awards nice?" Emma asked. "Or is this . . ." She threw the orange dress on the bed and yanked a denim skirt and mini plaid shirt out of her closet. "Better?"

Ellie frowned at the outfit.

"You’re right," Emma sighed. "It says
slutty trucker
. It’s so hard to get that perfect mix of looking great but not trying too hard."

"When do you need to be ready?" Ellie asked.

"A car is driving us to the airport at two so we can be in Los Angeles by seven. But we have to go straight to the ceremony—no changing on the way, so I want to be ready. How about this?" Emma pulled out another outfit—a cream eyelet dress.

"You could wear anything," Ellie said honestly, if a little wearily.

She flung herself out of bed and threw on an old pair of jeans that she wouldn’t mind getting stained with stray food, and pulled back her hair in a bun and net. "Have a great time, okay, if I don’t see you before you leave?"

Emma dropped all her clothes and crossed the room to hug Ellie close. "I’ll text you details," she said, muffled against her shoulder. "I wish you could come, Ellie."

"Me, too," Ellie said. "It’s going to be amazing." She pulled away, taking in Emma’s beaming smile, and felt the bloom of excitement within her. "It’s going to be epic amazing. Movie stars! Flashing cameras."

"Eeeek, I know!" Emma stamped her feet and threw her head back. "I can’t believe it! Do you think they’ll know I’m totally a fraud?"

"No way," Ellie insisted. "They’re going to think you’re a star. Come on—try on the green dress."

As Emma skipped to the closet, Ellie, for the time being, felt like maybe the weekend would go all right for one of them, at least.

* * *

Lizzie, unfortunately, did not share Ellie’s newfound optimism as she found her way to the kitchen when Ellie was preparing for the breakfast service.

"I’m going to die," Lizzie said.

"No visitors," the head cook warned.

"You’re not going to die," Ellie said.

"But I am." Lizzie strode past the head cook straight to Ellie’s sink station, where she leaned back against the counter. "Dante’s parents are sitting out there—at a cafeteria table—waiting for me. For me! They’ll hate me. They’ll figure out I’m the one causing all the trouble at school."

"They won’t hate you." Ellie gently pushed Lizzie aside to set a tray of clean dishes on the metal rack.

"How can they like me when I’m the girl who is trying to tell them how to run their school?"

"Because that’s who Dante likes," Ellie said. "And Dante couldn’t have liked anyone else but you. Dante couldn’t have liked a meek girl who stood by and let people bulldoze her school. That’s why."

Lizzie’s lower lip quivered. "You’re the best. You always know exactly what to say."

Ellie smiled in satisfaction—yes, the day, indeed, was looking up.

* * *

Ellie put away the last clean dish. Despite being happy that Emma and Lizzie were on to brighter futures, she wasn’t so optimistic about her own.

She wanted to crawl into bed and stay there forever, but she had to take out the trash. Two of her nails were split down the middle and throbbing. She had something in her hair—she was fairly sure it was ketchup.

The only thing that made the ache in her back feel better was knowing classes were cancelled today as everyone’s mothers and fathers met with teachers in one-on-one sessions. She nearly groaned at the promise of a leisurely shower, where she could let the hot water flow over her head and down her back while she pretended it was the outdoor shower at the Santa Cruz beach. That she was just steps away from the ocean.

Just because that wasn’t the path the universe had set for her, didn’t mean she couldn’t dream. For one second.

Her heart wanted nothing more than to be home—until she realized Santa Cruz wasn’t home anymore. There was no reason to go back and she’d never really had a chance to say good-bye.

She felt lightheaded and leaned against the kitchen counter.

She’d always thought of Jasta as her real home, where she lived most of the year, but it was so different this year, not all in ways that were good. Now her other home was gone. Her parents were in Guatemala, ready to start a new family without her.

It was her own fault she wasn’t there with them.

She wiped away her tears—there was no point being silly. She grabbed the trash bag and dragged it outside.

Edward was waiting behind the building, leaning against the wall.

"Hi," Ellie said, raising the bag up over her head. Edward took a step toward her and grabbed the bag, then hefted it into the big metal Dumpster.

"Hi, Ellie." He looked her with a pained expression.

"Are you okay? Why are you here?"

"I . . ." He looked at her hands and frowned, then reached out to cradle them in his own. "What happened?"

"Oh, the nails split," she said, pulling them away in embarrassment. "All the hot soapy water from the dishes. They’ll grow back."