Текст книги "I Love Him, I Love Him Not "

Автор книги: Ella Martin

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

Chapter Eleven

Ally slid into the seat across from me at our usual lunch table a couple of days later, her eyes bright with excitement.

“Guess who has a date tomorrow,” she said. Without waiting for a response from us, she let out a shrill squeal.

“Ouch,” Jake said, his hand to his ear. “That was some serious feedback. Did you actually say something, Ally, or are you practicing your dolphin call again?”

She gave him an icy glare. “You’re so funny.”

I held up a soggy French fry as a pointer. “He is. But looks aren’t everything.” Jake narrowed his eyes at me, and I popped the fry into my mouth.

Things between Jake and me were back to normal. I still hadn’t figured out what had me all weirded out earlier that week, but it must’ve been a one-time thing because it hadn’t happened since. I’d decided the stress of seeing my dad again and dealing with keeping him out of my life was making me imagine things and freak out over stupid, nonexistent stuff.

“Nice,” Jake said, and he plucked a fry from my tray and threw it at me. “So someone finally worked up the nerve to ask Ally out,” he said with a grin. “I wonder what’s wrong with him.”

From her place beside her boyfriend, Bianca nudged my shoulder and glowered at Jake. “Ignore them,” she said to Ally. “Who’re you going out with?”

“Hunter,” she replied with a dreamy smile. “He’s so cute.”

Finn looked up from his open laptop and turned to her. “Hunter York?”

“Yes.” Ally’s eyes grew big and she latched onto his arm. “Why? Have you heard anything about him? Is he not cool?”

Ever since Bianca’s first boyfriend turned out to be uber possessive and not just the awful jerk I knew him to be, Ally had been extra cautious. She may have had her finger on the pulse of the Westgate social scene, but even she hadn’t known what a creepazoid Dante Schwartz was.

“Ease up, Katz,” Tim said. “It was an honest question.”

Bianca nodded. “Yeah. Aren’t there, like, three Hunters in the school?”

Ally released her grip on Finn’s arm. “Well, I’m not going to go out with a freshman, and no offense to your friends, but Hunter Grace is kind of like the Anti-Cute,” she said, referring to the captain of the wrestling team.

“I think his girlfriend might disagree,” Brady said from behind us. He reached over my shoulder and grabbed some fries from my tray. “Why are you talking about Grace, anyway?” he said, his mouth full.

“Katz has a date with Hunter,” Tim said.

“Grace?” He grabbed another handful.

“No,” Finn said. “York.”

Brady’s hand stopped inches from my French fries. “York?” he repeated.

Ally’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you guys so surprised? What’s wrong with him?”

I glanced at Bianca, and we both shrugged.

“Nothing,” Finn said from behind his laptop. “He’s a good guy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ally demanded.

Bianca worked quickly to bring the topic back to Ally’s favorite subject: herself. “What are you guys doing tomorrow? Do you know?”

That did the trick. Ally shifted in her seat and leaned forward, her face beaming once again. “He’s taking me miniature golfing. Tell me that isn’t just the most adorable thing ever.”

Jake picked up his pizza slice and shuddered. Brady snickered over my shoulder. Bianca, at least, was more supportive.

“That’s so cute,” she cooed. She put her chin on Tim’s shoulder. “We should totally do that.”

Brady snorted with derision. “You hate mini golf.”

“Only because you keep yelling at me for not holding the stick right,” Bianca said with a haughty glare.

“For crying out loud,” Brady said, grabbing the last of my fries, “it’s called a putter.”

Tim put a protective arm around Bianca and said, “Leave her alone, Brady. I’ve got this.”

I snickered as Brady shook his head and left our table, probably in search of other underclassmen to torment. Tim and Bianca were an adorable couple. She’d had a crush on him practically forever, but they only started going out a few months ago. He and Brady were best friends, which probably made things a little awkward, but Brady was cool with it. Besides, Tim was awesome. He was protective of Bianca without being obsessive, eager to spend time with her but respectful of her interests, and not above hanging out with a bunch of sophomores though most of his fellow seniors would have balked at doing such a thing. Bianca was completely smitten with him, and I didn’t blame her.

Jake had a thoughtful expression on his face as he chewed. “I didn’t know you liked Hunter,” he said to Ally.

She opened a packet of dressing and drizzled half of its contents over her salad. “I don’t really know him all that well,” she admitted, “but he’s really cute.”

“You think everyone is cute,” I muttered.

“Anyway, he’s the assistant director for Chicago,” she said, spearing some greens with her fork, “so we’re spending a lot of time together.”

Jake nodded, but he remained silent.

“Hey, Ally,” Keith said from somewhere behind me, “thanks for the good word with your brother.”

She hurriedly covered her mouth with a napkin for a second before she put it back down and smiled at him. “Oh, no probs. He said you’re going to help out a couple days a week?”

He dragged a chair from a neighboring table and pulled it up to ours to sit beside her. “Yeah. He said I could store my car there, too.” Keith grinned. “I’m bringing it by tomorrow. Maybe we can hang out after.”

“Probably not,” Jake said, his mouth full of pizza. “She’s got a date with York.”

“Hunter York?” Keith sounded surprised.

“Yeah.” Ally’s eyes grew wide again. “Why? What do you know?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “He’s a good guy.”

“That’s exactly what Finn said,” she said, her brow furrowed in bewilderment.

Keith spoke slowly, as though he was carefully selecting his words. “I guess I just didn’t think you were his type.”

Finn coughed a few times and put down his bottle of water. “Sorry,” he said. “Wrong pipe.”

“What’s this car you’re storing at the garage?” I said, trying to change the subject. The guys were acting strangely, and it made me nervous.

“He bought a ’67 Barracuda,” Ally answered for Keith.

“It needs some work,” he added.

“Freddie’s giving him space to work on it there.”

“And my mom’s excited to get me out of the house.” Keith grimaced. “She said now that Ephemera broke up, I need to get a job or she’ll make me work at the magazine.”

I nodded. Keith’s father was a former surfing champion-turned-publisher, and both of Keith’s older siblings worked for Breakers, the magazine their dad founded when he retired from the professional circuit. From the sound of it, though, Keith had no interest in any aspects of the family business.

Keith leaned back in his seat and studied Ally. “So where’s York taking you?”

“Mini golf,” she said, looking down at her salad. “It should be fun.”

“It’s only the most adorable thing ever,” Jake said in his best imitation of her. Ally shifted in her seat, and he yelped. “Ow! What was that for?”

She looked at him with wide eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I kick you?”

Bianca and I exchanged questioning glances again, neither of us sure of what was going on.

“Jake,” Ally said in a singsong voice, “I have a song stuck in my head, and I can’t think of the name of it. Something about a guy who’s madly in love with a girl who has no idea and he’s too afraid to tell her. Do you know what song that is?”

His metal chair scraped the floor as he stood abruptly and took his tray to the nearest garbage can. He disappeared into the crowded cafeteria without a word or a backward glance. I watched his retreating figure, wondering what had spurred the sudden departure. Across from me, Ally wore a wicked smirk while Keith had his head bowed, his shoulders shaking.

“Are you okay?” I said.

He held up a hand and got to his feet, grinning. “I’m cool. Catch you later,” he said with a nod to Ally before he left.

“Bye.” She smiled down at her food.

“This York guy,” Tim said. “Are you sure you want to go out with him?”

Ally looked surprised by his question. “Well, yeah.” She poked her salad and said, “I mean, he’s cute. And he asked me out.”

“And he’s a good guy,” Finn added.

Ally considered that and smiled. “Yes. He’s a very good guy.”

Chapter Twelve

Mom shooed me out of the house the following afternoon to meet with some real estate people. Real ones, this time. It was fine; I needed to go someplace relatively quiet to work on my project for Mr. Collins and Mrs. Riley. My friends all had other plans, and the “relatively quiet” requirement ruled out hanging out with them, anyway, so I was happy to find a quiet corner of the Bookish Bean where I could grab a cup of tea, spread out my stuff, and work in peace.

Sort of. My sketches weren’t cooperating. I was having difficulty getting Ally’s patrician nose exactly right, and my eraser had smudged it, making it look more bulbous than dignified and straight.

Something told me Ally wouldn’t have appreciated that.

I tilted my head to study the sketch from a different angle before I attacked it again with my eraser.

“Talia!” someone called. I looked up and forced a tired smile. Clover was headed in my direction.

“Oh, hey.” I moved some of my stuff to make room for her drink and scone. She took the seat beside me and peered at my drawing.

“What are you working on?”

“A poster for the spring musical,” I said with a heavy sigh as I pushed it away. “I don’t know what I was thinking. This is awful.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” She leaned forward to study it closely. “It’s got kind of a Drew Struzan vibe to it,” she said, referring to the artist best known for his iconic movie posters and album covers. “Like, it’s not there yet, but is that kind of what you’re going for?”

I was surprised. Clover recognized the style I was trying to emulate. Though just about everyone had seen his work, I didn’t think many of my classmates knew who Drew Struzan was. But, then again, Clover’s dad had probably had dinner with him or something.

“It looks a lot better in my head than it does on paper,” I said.

She bit into her scone and covered her mouth as she spoke. “I know what you mean. There are so many times I’ll get an idea for a song in my head, but when I sit down and try to recreate it, it all sounds wrong.”

“So what do you do?”

“It depends,” she said. “Sometimes I keep going and try to at least get the concept down to tweak later. Sometimes I end up throwing it away.” She took another bite and added, “My dad says a lot of artsy types have to abandon projects because they aren’t fully developed. He could be full of it and saying stuff to make me feel better, but whatever.”

A stifling silence descended while she picked at her pastry.

“What are you doing here?” I blurted. It sounded ruder than I intended, but fortunately, Clover didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she didn’t mind.

“Stopping for coffee before I head over to Vinyl Cuts.” She held up her cup.

I wanted to ask if she was bringing over more guitars to get serviced, but I thought better of it and said, “I think Jake’s working today.”

She took a sip of her drink and nodded. “Yeah, I know. He called about an hour ago. I guess some guy came in to sell a limited edition Signature Bonnie Raitt Strat. Sounds like it’s in pretty good shape, so my dad’s meeting me there to check it out.”

“Oh.” The whole idea of her guitar collection still baffled me. “That’s cool.”

Clover folded up the last of the scone in her napkin and set it aside. “I met your friend Ally yesterday,” she said, resting her elbows on the table. “She’s, um….”

“Kind of a whirlwind?” I suggested. I fought to keep my expression neutral. Playa del Lago was a tight-knit community. They were bound to meet each other eventually.

She grinned. “Yeah, that’s fair. Anyway, she was at the country club last night. Totally saved me.”

“What?” I couldn’t imagine Clover needing to be saved from anything.

“My dad was meeting some people there,” she explained. “Some contract negotiations or something.” She rolled her eyes, and I wondered how often she’d had to sit in on meetings like those. “But, yeah, Ally swept in and introduced herself.” She paused. “Is there anyone that girl doesn’t know?”

I raised my eyebrows. “In Playa del Lago? Not likely.”

“Well, I don’t think I need to tell you how chatty she is. I’m sure I know more than you’d ever want me to know about you and Bianca.”

I forced a tight smile and mentally plotted ways to torture Ally.

“Sounds like you guys have been friends a long time.”

“Yeah. They’ve always just been there, you know?”

“Not really, no.” She smiled, but it was a sad sort of smile, and it made me wonder who she hung out with when she wasn’t with Jake. I didn’t know many homeschooled kids or anything, but the ones I knew had tons of friends from stuff they did outside the house. But I had a feeling whatever this was had more to do with being Malcolm Davies’s daughter than it did with where she went to school.

And I suddenly felt very sorry for her.

“So how’s life with the new stepdad?” she said, a little more energy in her voice.

I stifled a groan. Maybe Ally really had told her everything. I suddenly didn’t feel so bad keeping some secrets to myself. “It’s okay, I guess.” I sipped my tea and added, “I’m not used to having him in the house all the time.”

“Was he really your old therapist? Because I would, like, completely freak if my dad married my old therapist.”

Did she tell her my entire life story? I wondered. I was torn between wanting to strangle Ally and preening at the thought of Clover needing therapy. Not that I could have imagined why she would’ve ever needed it.

“I only saw him once before I switched doctors,” I said. “It’s not so bad. I mean, except I never know how to answer his questions.”

She seemed to study me for a few seconds before she said, “That’s good. My stepdads have all been….” She lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug as if that completed her thought.

“‘Stepdads?’” I repeated. “Like, plural?”

“Mom’s on Husband Number Seven,” she said with a sardonic smile. “It’ll be nice if this one lasts longer than nine months, but, you know. We’ll see.”

“Wow.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Mom may have had three boyfriends over the last five years, but at least she married only one of them.

“She also wasn’t very responsible,” she said slowly, as if measuring her words. “She pulled me out of school for six months to go on tour with Husband Number Three, and I was out for another two while she scouted locations with Husband Number Four for some indie film he ended up never making.”

I stared at her in disbelief. No wonder she needed therapy. Anyone would.

“My formal education wasn’t exactly her top priority.” She sipped her drink. “It’s why I’m homeschooled now,” she said. “Also why I live with my dad.” She shifted in her seat, and her entire demeanor changed. Her normally confident expression was gone, replaced by an almost defeated grimness. Her shoulders drooped as she slouched.

This wasn’t a girl I was familiar with. All the poise and confidence she oozed? It was like that was a carefully constructed facade. Her life didn’t seem so perfect anymore. And as Clover let down her guard, I considered letting mine down, too.

Maybe what she needed was a friend.

“My dad and I aren’t…” I paused to search for the right word. “Close,” I said at last. “I don’t know what I’d do without my mom.”

“Your mom’s probably a lot more responsible than mine.”

I nodded. “She’s a lawyer,” I said. “She made partner at her firm not long before…” Before that night, I wanted to say, but I couldn’t. I swallowed hard and said, “It was right before they split up.”

She rotated her cup and swirled its contents. “So where’s your dad?”

I froze. Jake was the only person I’d really talked to about my father. I wasn’t ready to share that with anyone else. “He’s around,” I said. “Sort of.”

Clover bobbed her head. “At least he’s sort of around. My mom….” She lifted her chin as if to look up at the ceiling, and I had a feeling she was trying hard not to cry. She cleared her throat and sat up straight with shoulders back, her hands folded primly in her lap. “My mother admitted my father was a more qualified caregiver after he agreed to increase his alimony payments by five figures.”

“It’s all about money,” I said, disgusted.

“We’re just another box to check off on a contract.”

“Or something they can pass back and forth.”

“Right? It’s like they forget we have feelings.”

“Yes!” At that moment, Clover and I were kindred spirits. She was the first person I’d met who understood.

“Well, whatever.” She pursed her lips and downed the rest of her drink. “That was three years ago. I haven’t seen her since.”

Calm, collected Clover was back, just as quickly as if someone had flipped a switch. I wondered if I’d imagined seeing her on the verge of tears.

A soft chirp came from the bag beside me, and I reached in to pull out my phone. I let out a heavy sigh.

“Speak of the devil,” I murmured.

Clover raised an eyebrow. “Your dad?” I nodded, and she collected her stuff and rose from the table. “You should get that,” she said. “I’ll see you later.” She turned and left without a backward glance, leaving me with my chirping phone.

I took a deep breath before I tapped Answer.

“Hello.” I kept my tone as even as possible. There was no need for him to know how nervous I was.

“Talia?” He sounded surprised. “I didn’t think you’d pick up.”

I wasn’t going to, I wanted to say, but I grimaced and said, “I’ve been busy.”

“Oh.” And now he sounded disappointed. “I’m not catching you at a bad time, am I?”

“Just doing some stuff for school,” I said.

“Okay.” Pause. “I guess you know your mom gave me your number?”

“Yeah.”

Another pause. “I’m, uh, glad you picked up. I was hoping I could see you soon. Maybe lunch next weekend?”

I tried to think of a feasible excuse not to see him, but nothing realistic came to mind. “I guess,” I said at last. I picked up my pencil and twirled it between my fingers.

“Great!” Was that relief in his voice? “What do you say I make reservations in Santa Monica for next Saturday? We can wander around the pier and ride the Ferris wheel if it’s not too cold.”

An image of a happier time flashed in my mind, back when I was a little girl and my dad and I would feast on corn dogs and cotton candy while we tossed stale bread to the seagulls. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. I didn’t go to Santa Monica very often anymore, and the pier was one of my favorite places to go when I was a kid. I couldn’t believe he remembered.

But I was still wary. “The whole day?”

“Well, a couple of hours, anyway.”

“Oh.”

“We could stay local, if you’d rather.” Maybe he’d heard the doubt in my voice.

“Yes, please.”

“And lunch is okay?”

Coffee would take less time, I wanted to say, but instead I said, “Yeah, okay.”

“Great,” he said again. “When should I pick you up?”

I glanced at my car keys and swallowed hard. “Um, I have my license, you know. I can meet you wherever.” So I can escape if I get too weirded out.

“Sure.” Was that disappointment I heard? Relief? I couldn’t tell. “I’ll call you sometime this week about where you want to go.”

It was more of a question than a statement, so I focused on keeping my voice light and upbeat as I said, “Sounds good.”

“All right, kiddo,” he said. “Next week, then.” There was a pause. “I – I love you.”

I froze. “Yeah,” I managed to say. “Next week.” I ended the call and slid my phone to the other end of the table.

My dad had been absent from my life for so many years. It was like he’d willingly disappeared but suddenly expected everything to be okay again.

I love you, he’d said. I doubted it was true. He’d disappeared from my life so suddenly and so completely, I wondered if it had ever been true.

I covered my face and rested my elbows on the table to collect myself. Finally, I grabbed my phone and sent a hurried text to the only person I trusted with my deepest insecurities. Mere seconds after I hit Send, “I Want to Hold Your Hand” blared from my phone.

“Are you okay?” Jake demanded as soon as I answered.

“I know you said you had something going on after work,” I said, hating every word coming out of my mouth, “but can you come over later?”