When You Were Mine (22 page)

“So?” Olivia says. “It’s kind of sexy. He’s like a rebel.”

“Well, you’re welcome to him.”

Olivia rolls her eyes. “I like Ben.” She bites her lip and stops walking. “Actually, I love him.”

I stop too. I figured as much, but I hadn’t actually expected Olivia to cop to it. But now she’s looking at me like there’s more.

“What’s up?” I ask, shifting my book bag.

“We sorta—” She exhales and kicks some dirt with her shoe. “We had sex.”

“Does Charlie know?” I’m not sure why that’s my first question, but it seems important.

“Yeah,” she says. “I told her this morning.”

“Well, how do you feel?” I’m not sure what to say. I figured when the time came, I’d know more about the whole sex issue. Wrong again.

Olivia shrugs. “Not much different, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

“You know what, though?” she says, her voice bulking up a little. “I really liked it.”

“Well, that’s good, right? That’s sorta the point?”

“No, not
that
. That’s not what I mean.” She frowns and crosses her arms. “I mean I really liked being that close to someone. I really liked being that close to
him
.”

I know we give Olivia a hard time about being silly and careless, but I think deep down she has some fears too. That she takes some things seriously. I know she wanted this, and in a way, I think, I’m kind of proud of her for going for it. And making the decision on her own.

“Anyway,” she says, “back to Len. I’m just saying I support it. That’s all.”

“Well, I appreciate your vote,” I say. “Thanks.”

Charlie is waiting in upper for us, leaning against Big Red. She’s got her sunglasses on, and her hair is picking up the sunlight so it looks like an impossible color of orange. Translucent, somehow. Like a butterfly’s wings. “We need to talk,” she says when she sees us. “Cal Block?”

“Actually,” Olivia says, “I think I’m gonna go have a hot date with your brother.” She winks at me and climbs into her car.

“I knew they were doing it,” Charlie says, staring after her. “She’s been unnaturally happy.”

We climb inside. “How about you?” she asks. “Ben told me a little bit about the fight, but I need more details. And you heard about the suicide story?”

“I have a study session with Len,” I say. “Assuming he shows, I have to be home.”

Charlie eyes me as we pull out of the parking lot and onto the highway. “What’s going on there, anyway?”

“Where?”

“Come on. Don’t play coy with me. Two guys break into a fistfight at school, and you want to tell me Rob wasn’t jealous?”

“Jealous? Even if Len and I were dating, which we’re not, Rob has no reason to care. Need I remind you, he has a
girlfriend
?”

“Something’s up,” Charlie says, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Things just feel weird.”

“That’s because things
are
weird. Rob’s turned all green hornet, and Juliet’s suicidal, apparently, and I’ve just found out we’re some scandal of a political family.”

“Explain, please,” Charlie says, sliding her sunglasses down her nose.

I tell Charlie about my discovery today, with Len.

“Well, it sort of makes sense,” she says. “Why she has it out for you.”

“I guess. I still can’t understand really why she would hate me like that. And I just can’t believe my dad would hurt his brother for no reason, you know? It’s so out of character.”

Charlie shrugs. “Maybe Rob’s dad really was the better candidate. I mean, your parents were always close with Rob’s parents. Maybe it was just politics, not personal.”

Charlie pulls into my driveway, and Rob’s mom’s car is parked next to my mom’s. Usually she just walks over, but I guess she was coming from somewhere. She has the
SAN BELLARO SOCIAL CHAIR
bumper sticker on the back window that Rob and I had made for her birthday two years ago.

I heave my book bag out of the car.

“Good luck with . . .” Charlie waves her hand around in the air like she’s looking for a word.

“Len,” I say.

“Right,
bio
.” She flips her sunglasses down and dots the air with a kiss. “Call me tomorrow. I think we may have to stalk Jake this weekend.”

“I completely forgot it was Friday.”

“Yeah. Sorta makes this study session seem like a date, huh?” She winks at me and swings out of the driveway, calling, “Ciao, bella,” on her way out.

I wave and head into the house. Rob’s mom and mine are in the kitchen at the counter, talking. It reminds me of the millions
of times I’ve come home and seen the same thing. Of baking Christmas cookies together in our kitchen. Of summer dinners on the patio. Of the one time Rob’s mom and mine let us share a glass of wine with them at the counter. It makes me miss Rob like crazy.

“Hey,” I say, making my way into the kitchen. “Secret convention?”

Rob’s mom smiles. She’s got the same liquid chocolate eyes as Rob, and for a second I have to stifle something kind of hot in my throat. She motions me over with her hand. “Hey, cutie,” she says. “How are you?”

“Good,” I say.

“School going well?”

I nod. “Bio is killing me.” The urge to ask her about Rob is suddenly overwhelming. The impulse is so strong, I have to bite down on my tongue to keep from talking.

I don’t need to, though, because in the next breath my mom says, “Jackie was just telling me about Rob. You know he got suspended today?”

“Yeah,” I mumble. “I mean, I didn’t know he got suspended, but I figured something was up.”

Rob’s mom shakes her head. “It’s that girl. Juliet. I’m sorry,” she says, looking at my mom, “but he’s not the same person since she’s been around. All of a sudden he’s getting in fights and
applying to USC. His father thinks we should forbid him from seeing her, but . . .”

“He didn’t apply early to Stanford?” My voice cracks, and my mom and Rob’s exchange a glance.

“I’m sorry, honey,” Rob’s mom says, but it’s quiet. “I don’t know what happened.”

We all know what happened. USC is the perfect school for Juliet. She’ll return to LA and major in drama and get to pursue acting at the same time. Rob wants to be with her, so he’s agreed to follow her there. He’s taking on her dream now. Stanford is already outdated.

“I have a friend coming over to study,” I say. “I’m going to head upstairs.”

“The girls?” Rob’s mom asks. She loves referring to Charlie and Olivia as “the girls.” When we were younger, she once took Charlie and me down to LA for the day on a “girls’ shopping trip.” Thinking about that and standing here with her, I realize how much I miss them all. Rob’s family, I mean.

“No, this guy Len,” I say.

“Len Stephens?” my mom asks. She perks her head up from her coffee cup.

“Isn’t that the guy who Rob—?” Rob’s mom taps the table.

“Yeah.” I swallow. “It was no one’s fault, really. Things just got out of hand.”

“Rob punched Len Stephens?” my mom says, her eyes wide. “He was such a sweet kid. He used to have lessons right before you at Famke’s, remember? He was so talented.”

“He still is,” I say. I don’t even know if that’s true, but I feel like I need to say something in his defense. And it’s easier to stand up for his talent than his sweetness.

Rob’s mom squints and runs her pointer finger back and forth across her forehead. “Rob admitted it was his fault, you know,” she says, her eyes closed. “He didn’t even try to argue.”

“He’s a good kid,” my mom says gently, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I think he misses you,” she says, looking at me. “And that Juliet . . .” Her voice trails off, and she brushes her eyes and straightens up. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I know this isn’t easy on you. You all used to be so close.”

The doorbell rings, and I use it as an exit strategy. “It was good to see you,” I say. “Mom, we’ll just work in my room.”

“Do you guys want some apples?”

“It’s not a playdate.”

“I know,” she says, standing up and coming over to me. “Just let me take care of you while I still can.”

I roll my eyes and glance at the door. “Try to restrain yourself,” I say, giving her a quick hug. “We’ll be upstairs.”

Len is standing at the door, his hand against the side panel.
He’s got a deep purple bruise all around his right eye.

“Jeez,” I say. “You look like a mess.”

“Thanks,” he says. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Do you want some ice?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I know, but that thing looks pretty bad.”

“Could I just come in?”

“Sure,” I say, stepping to the side. “Sorry. My room’s upstairs.”

“You run a tight ship,” he says. “No guided tour?”

“Later,” I say. “Right now we have to work.”

He’s holding a bag of Twizzlers in his hand, and his backpack is missing.

“Where is your study stuff?”

He holds up the bag.

“That’s
candy
.”

“Your favorite kind, no less.”

I stop. “How do you know that?”

“Chop, chop,” he says, pushing past me and starting up the stairs. “Don’t make me eat these all by myself.”

“But we have to study,” I say, trudging up behind him.

“Let’s just chill for a second,” he says. “The doctor said I really should be resting.”

He halts at the top of the stairs and places a hand daintily on his cheek.

“You’re lying,” I say. “But fine.”

“Which is yours?” he says, stretching a hand out in either direction.

“On the left.”

We settle on my bedroom floor, the Twizzlers between us. He opens the bag and offers me one. I take it.

“So what happened?” I ask.

Len sighs and rolls a Twizzler between his palms. “Nothing, really. Rob took the blame. They let me go, but I heard he got suspended.” He looks to see my reaction.

“Mhm, me too. You must be relieved.”

Len shrugs.

“Oh, right. I forgot. Suspension is like a paid vacation for those uninterested in school.”

He squints and looks at me, leaning his elbows casually on his knees. “Is that what you think?”

“Yeah,” I say. My voice gets quiet. All of a sudden he’s making me nervous. “I mean, you never do homework and you’re always giving teachers a hard time. Are you even applying to college?”

I pull another Twizzler out of the bag and busy myself with tearing it down like string cheese.

“Didn’t know you paid so much attention to me, Rosaline.” He tilts his head to the side and gives me a lopsided smile.

I open my mouth to talk, but he holds up his finger.

“For the record, I do the homework. I’m here, aren’t I? And I don’t give all teachers a hard time, just the ones that could use it. And as for college?” He raises his eyebrows. “I already got in.”

“But early admission decisions don’t come until next month, at the earliest.”

“I got in last year,” he says. He flops his knees down to the ground and grabs the candy bag.

“We were juniors.”

“Mhm,” he says, chewing. “Good point.”

“You can’t even apply to college junior year.”

“Yep,” he says. “All true.”

“What is it, then? Continuing education courses? Having to repeat high school doesn’t count as college.”

“Thanks for your concern,” he says. “But actually, no. Juilliard.”

My jaw drops so far, I think I might have to manually pick it up off the floor. When I finally start speaking, it comes out like word vomit: “What? Are you kidding me? Why?”

Len laughs. “The surprise I can take, but ‘why’ feels a little harsh.”

“I’m sorry, but are you being serious?”

“You want to see the acceptance letter?”

I eye him closely. It’s impossible, but I also don’t know why
he’d lie about it. It seems like the sort of thing he’d like to keep quiet, actually. But Juilliard?

“Isn’t that the school for prodigies?”

“Prodigy,” he says, tapping his chest. “Right here.”

“In what?”

“Okay.” He folds his arms across his chest. “Piano.”

It makes perfect sense now. Why he’s so smart but doesn’t care about school. “You kept playing,” I say.

I stand and extend my hand to him. He gives me a curious look but lets me help him up. I march him, in much the same way Mr. Davis did Rob this afternoon, down the stairs and into the den. My mom and Rob’s mom have disappeared from the kitchen, probably outside. When he sees the piano, he starts laughing.

“You kept it,” he says.

“Yeah, my parents always thought maybe I’d come back to it.” I sit down on the bench and face him. “Will you play something for me?”