Текст книги "Endless Summer"

Автор книги: Jennifer Echols

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

His eyes flew wide open, and the rest of him seemed to shrink back a bit. en he stood up straighter, and his brow went down. “Frances? I haven’t spoken to Frances in years. Plus she’s creepy.”

“Only because she’s always right,” I said. “And last night, something you said to Sean… Do you have a plot against me? Are you double-crossing me? He dared you to go out with the dog next door, and if you did, he’d give you your cute little girlfriend back?” He snorted, then seemed to have a hard time huffing out laughter, almost as if he were relieved. He snatched me to his tanned chest, hugged me hard, and breathed into my wet hair, “You’re not a dog. You’re beautiful.”

Right. I knew what he meant. Beautiful on the inside. I had saved a baby sparrow or two in my time. I was not someone he would want to hook up with, but a beautiful person. Hooray.

“Don’t ever let Sean convince you you’re not.” He glanced in the direction Sean had gone. “Let’s go for a sailboat ride.” I loved sailing. But if we went now, we’d be late for the party. “Can’t we do it tomorrow?”

“This will be an investment in your future. It’ll be worth it.”

I waited while Adam leaned into the office to tell Mr. Vader what we were doing, and I followed him back into the warehouse. e sailboat was very old and very small.

e hull was a light fiberglass platform with a hole for the metal mast. Adam and I toted the hull, mast, and sail to the edge of the wharf, threw them in, and tossed down a couple of life vests. Adam stepped carefully onto the hull, sat down, and steadied it against the concrete wall for me as I stepped on and sat down. e sitting down was very important. e boat was so small that it would tip and throw us off if we shifted our weight the slightest bit too far, like trying to stand on a basketball. Together we lifted the mast upright, slid it into the hole in the center of the hull, and unfurled the red sail.

“Do you want to drive?” he asked.

“You can drive,” I said.

I scooted around the mast to the tiny bow. Adam slid to the back, taking the rope attached to the sail in one hand and the handle of the rudder in the other. He pulled the sail taut, the wind filled it—and the boat tipped over, dumping us both into the lake.

I came up quickly. e life vests were floating away on the current, but the more important thing was to make sure the mast didn’t fall out of the hole and sink. We’d have a hard time retrieving it from the bottom of the lake, even here near the wharf where it was relatively shallow.

Adam had the same idea. Without a word to each other, we met under the boat. His hair floated weirdly around him and his blue eyes were bright in the dark green water as he motioned for me to turn the hull right side up while he dove after the slowly sinking mast.

I came up into the sunshine for a breath and flipped the hull. Adam surfaced beside me, groaning with the weight of tugging the sail full of water. Together we managed to bundle it around the mast so less water was trapped in it. We pulled the sail and mast out of the water, slipped the mast into the hole in the hull, and peeled the sail into position. Water rained everywhere.

“This is romantic,” I said. “You have a knack. What the hell kind of date is this?”

He laughed. “You’ll see.”

After we retrieved the life vests, I sat on the bow like in Titanic. But without any of that I’m queen of the world bullshit, holding my arms out. Come on, it was a sailboat on a lake. Adam steered us back and forth across the water. e red sail billowed above us in the strong breeze, so we wouldn’t get T-boned by drunks. Unless of course they headed straight for us like in a bullfight.

Sometimes Adam jerked the boat around so fast that I slipped off the bow and into the water. Dunk! ese were not accidents, I thought—the gleam in his blue eyes was too gleamy. He turned the boat only when we were very close to shore, though, where it was safe. I wasn’t too concerned about getting ground to bits by a passing boat motor in the open water.

We made it to the bridge and floated under. e sound of cars zooming on the highway overhead echoed in a sucking sound underneath, with a clack-clack, clack-clack as they crossed from one section of bridge to another. I called over the noise, “How much farther are we going?” I looked back at the Vaders’ house, tiny across the water.

“The party will start soon.”

“Someone there you want to see?”

I thought he sounded bitter. But when I turned around to glance at him, he was the usual Adam, quiet and intense, one finger tapping the boat with barely contained energy.

“Yes, duh. Isn’t there someone at the party you want to see? We can’t make them jealous if we’re not there.”

“Actually, we can.” He nodded to a pile. “Catch that and stop us.”

I hugged the pile and brought the sailboat alongside it. Adam opened the compartment in the hull and pulled a can of spray paint out of the pool of water inside. He popped off the cap, sprayed a little paint into the air as a test, and stuffed the can into the waistband of his board shorts. “Wait here, woman,” he said, then grinned. He climbed the pile, finding tenuous footholds between the concrete blocks.

“Uh,” I said. He was already at the top of the pile. “Adam?” He reached to the metal outside edge of the bridge (thank God this side faced away from the setting sun, or it would have been too hot to hold) and, using only the strength of his arms (thank God for calisthenics), hoisted himself up until he stood on the ledge. All I could see of him was his heels peeking over the edge.

I wasn’t worried about him falling. Cameron had fallen off before, and it had only stung. I was worried about the black clouds creeping up on the sun on the far side of the bridge, and the wind picking up. A cold gust caught the sail. e boom swung around suddenly and would have decapitated me if I hadn’t ducked. Not really, but I would have had a blue bruise across my neck, and how sexy is that? I crawled to Adam’s spot in the back of the boat, untied the rope, and lowered the sail. “Hey, Adam.” The clouds blotted out the sun. Far across the lake, the shoreline looked misty with a wall of rain. Lightning forked from the black clouds to the dark green lake.

“Adam, lightning!” I called. My voice was drowned by thunder.

The paint can dropped into the lake. I fished it out and put it back in the compartment. Lightning flashed, closer.

His feet appeared, his legs, his board shorts. With the strength of a hundred push-ups a day, he lowered himself slowly until he hung by his arms from the edge of the bridge. I expected him to drop into the water, because he was like that. He would be electrocuted, just to paint our names on the bridge. Which might sound romantic, except something could sound only so romantic when it involved spray paint.

ankfully, he swung his legs onto the pile and descended the way he’d gone. He stepped carefully onto the boat just as lightning cracked again, so loud and bright we both jumped, and thunder boomed directly overhead. I scooted toward the bow to make room for him.

He raised the sail, saying, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay!” I shouted over the noise of the rain and the deafening echo of rain under the bridge. “Not your fault.”

“It wasn’t supposed to rain tonight.”

“Storms pop up in the summer.”

Pushing the sail into the wind just long enough to give the boat momentum, and pointing the sail out of the wind again before we blew over, he steered us toward shore.

Two piles spanning the width of the bridge stood between us and the bank. Twice, we both put our hands on the piles to pull the boat out into the rain and around to the other side. I bent my head under the cold deluge. Big, hard raindrops beat the back of my neck.

We made it to shore and climbed partway up the slanted concrete embankment under the bridge. Adam brought one of the ropes from the boat with him. He curled it around his ankle so the howling wind didn’t blow the boat home without us. I curled it around my ankle, too, for good measure.

We both stared forward at the swaying sailboat, red sail puddled on the hull, and the pile beyond it. Rain cascaded off both sides of the massive bridge in sheets. My bikini bottoms didn’t provide much padding between the rough concrete and my ass. e rain had chilled me. I moved imperceptibly (I hoped) toward Adam to bask in his heat.

The noise and echo of the rain filled my ears, but Adam’s voice beside me sounded even louder. “Why’d you go to the shrink?” I looked down. My palm was bleeding. I must have scraped it on the pile.

“Was it because of your mom?”

I wiped my palm on my other hand. Great, now I had blood on both hands. Helpful. I wiped them on the back of my bikini bottoms. Blood stains came out in cold water, and we had plenty of that.

I could feel Adam watching me.

“It wasn’t right after my mom died,” I said. “Actually it wasn’t until sixth grade, when Frances left because McGillicuddy and I had gotten too old to need keeping during the day while Dad was at work. Frankly, I think she was glad to go. Sean calling her Butt I Don’t Need a Governess probably got tiresome.”

“Sean gets tiresome in general.” Adam didn’t meant to change the subject—he just couldn’t help making this comment. He tapped my knee with his knee, prodding me to go on.

“It wasn’t like I did anything so crazy,” I said. “ough that’s probably what crazy people always say, right? I just didn’t want to sit in class anymore. e teachers were fine and the kids were fine. I just couldn’t picture myself sitting in a desk in a straight line of desks for another seven hours.”

“Ha!” Adam said. “You had ADHD.”

“It must have been catching. So when Dad dropped me off at school in the morning, I started checking in at homeroom, then disappearing into the basement, or into the attic. I could stand over the ductwork at one corner of the attic and hear everything the principal said in her office. I could crawl above the auditorium, where the janitor went to change the spotlight bulbs, and listen to rehearsals of the school play. I was seeing this whole side of the school that other people didn’t know existed.” Lightning flashed, thunder clapped. e rain pouring off the bridge into the lake sounded like static. at’s what sitting in class back then had been like. Where there had been a channel before, now there was only static. I couldn’t tune in, and even if I could, there was nothing to see.

“Eventually the school called my dad to say I’d missed so much school, I was going to flunk the sixth grade. My dad threatened a lawsuit because it was the school’s fault they’d lost me. The upshot of it was that I went to a shrink for a while, and took some pills—”

“Pills,” Adam said in utter disgust, like I would say bryozoa or gelatin salad. I hated gelatin salad. It was so ambiguous. What was it made of?

“ese pills weren’t bad,” I said. “ey helped. I only took them for a while. I went back to class and everything was fine. Really I think it never would have happened if you’d been in my class, if I’d had someone to talk to. The other kids didn’t even notice I was gone.” We listened to the rain for a few moments. He said, “Lately I’ve been thinking about going back on my pills.” I thought he was saying this to make me feel better about spilling my secret. I hoped he was just saying this. Adam on his pills was no fun. He was serious and levelheaded and cautious. Like everybody else. But if that’s what he wanted, I should support him.

“Sean makes me…,” Adam said slowly, balling his hands into fists, “… so… mad.” He flexed both hands with his fingers splayed. Like the anger was so great, he needed to shoot it out his fingertips before it caused him to burst into flames.

“I know,” I said. “Me too.” This wasn’t exactly true. Sean didn’t make me mad at him. He made me mad at myself.

A cool blast of wind made the chill bumps stand up higher on my arms. e sailboat rope tugged at my foot. I crossed my arms in front of me, covered as much skin as possible with my hands, and contracted into a ball.

“Hey. Come here.” Adam slid his bare arm around my bare shoulders. Assuming we were both 98.6, I didn’t understand how he could be so much warmer than me. His skin felt like he’d been standing in front of a fire. I slid my arm around his waist, too, and relaxed into his toasty goodness. I leaned my head against his shoulder. His fingers moved a little on my arm. I thought I heard his heartbeat speed up, but I wasn’t sure.

Eventually the rain dwindled like someone turned down the volume of the static on TV. e thunder moved far away, and what was left of the sunset flung pink and orange on the scattering clouds. I hardly shivered as we edged down the embankment to the boat. Now the problem was finding any wind at all to get us home in the calm after the storm. Sitting on the hull, we both ducked as he wound the boom all the way around the mast and finally caught a little breeze.

We emerged from darkness under the bridge, into the golden light, and looked back. Partly because rain had battered the wet paint, and partly due to Adam’s atrocious handwriting, the bridge didn’t say ADAM LOVES LORI. I cocked my head to one side, then blurred my eyes, neither of which helped. I read out loud, “AOAN LOVES

LOKI.”

“They’ll know what I meant.” He was so proud. “Let Sean top that.”

And he did.

The party had started. It was hard to see in the twilight, and with the mist rising off the water around us after the rain. But the gray twilight and gray mist made colors pop. Bright T-shirts and Slinky Cleavage-Revealing Tops dotted the Vaders’ lawn and concentrated at the end of the dock. e faint bass beat of the music across the water was punctuated by the occasional foop of a bottle rocket.

Just as Adam had been waiting for me on my dock last Sunday when I canoed to see Frances, Mr. Vader was waiting for us on the marina dock. It was awkward generally for someone to wait for you on the dock like this, because you realized they were waiting for you and watching you when you were still ten minutes from reaching them.

With Adam, I’d felt compelled to wave and make faces at him the whole return trip. With Mr. Vader, it was worse. He stood on the dock with his feet planted and his arms folded.

“I’m in trouble,” Adam said.

“I know.” I was sitting across from Adam on the hull. I didn’t sit on the bow, and I didn’t want to. It seemed inappropriate and frivolous now that Adam was about to get grounded.

We sailed past Mr. Vader on the dock. He followed us up the stairs and around the wharf. He helped us pull the mast and sail and then the hull out of the water and carry them, dripping, into the warehouse, all in complete silence. Mr. Vader’s jaw was set. In the twilight, Adam’s expression had already settled into darkness.

Finally Mr. Vader closed the door of the warehouse, locked it, and turned to face Adam with his hands on his hips.

“It wasn’t supposed to rain tonight,” Adam said quickly.

Mr. Vader nodded. “The storm popped up.”

Adam backed off a millimeter. “Well. Since you were paying attention, thanks for coming to our rescue.”

“I knew you were okay. I watched you.” Mr. Vader took a pair of folding binoculars out of his pocket.

“That’s creepy,” Adam said.

“You know what’s creepy?” Mr. Vader asked. “Two kids who are supposedly dating spray-paint their names on the bridge like they’re in love. ey get caught under a bridge during an electrical storm. And they don’t fool around. They just sit there.”

I’d planned to stay quiet and let Adam handle his dad. I didn’t want to get him in more trouble. But this was too much. “Adam’s right,” I piped up. “That’s creep—”

“Can you believe this?” Adam interrupted me. He didn’t care I was trying to back him up. He wasn’t even listening. He turned to me and said, “You’re a witness to this.

It’s probably the only time this has happened in the history of the United States. I’m in trouble for not doing you.” Mr. Vader took his hands off his hips and pointed at Adam’s chest. “I won’t have you talking like that in front of Lori. Or in front of me, for that matter.” Which was ludicrous, because the boys had learned all their best figures of speech from Mr. Vader. So had I.

“Why not?” Adam’s voice rose. “at’s what you’re talking about, right? And now you don’t want to talk about it? Maybe you’re sorry you brought it up. Maybe you see now that it’s none of your business.”

“It’s my business when it’s part of this stupid game between you and Sean.”

“Which one?” I asked.

As if I hadn’t spoken, Mr. Vader said to Adam, “Your mother was right. You and Lori aren’t really dating. You’re trying to make Rachel jealous and get her away from Sean.”

Sean made Adam angry. I could only imagine what it was doing to Adam to find out his dad bought Sean’s act. Adam was going to explode at his dad. He would be grounded. We wouldn’t get to make Sean and Rachel jealous tonight. I put my arm around him and told Mr. Vader, “Maybe he’s more of a gentleman than you think.” Adam gave me a look of utter disbelief. Despite how serious the situation was, I almost laughed.

He didn’t explode, but his chest did expand, until I lost my hold around him. He turned back to Mr. Vader, held out his fingers, and touched the first one. “Sean.” He touched his second finger and said, “Stole.” He tapped his third finger vigorously. “My.” He touched his pinky. “Girlfriend.” Mr. Vader hmphed and half-turned away, finished with us. “It’s obvious Sean has something good going on, as usual, and you’re trying to ruin it. Sean bought Rachel a wakeboard. He gave it to her at dinner, in front of your mother and Cameron and me. You don’t mess with something special like that.” He stalked down the pier, toward the party.

Adam and I looked at each other. Sean had been saving the money he earned at the marina to buy a Byerly for himself. He’d bragged about it every day in the boat, like all he needed was this new trick wakeboard and he’d be numero uno again. We were talking hundreds of dollars.

He’d spent that money on Rachel instead?

Adam jogged down the pier and stepped in front of Mr. Vader, blocking his way. “What about bindings?”

“Bindings too,” Mr. Vader said. “They’re on order.”

It didn’t make sense for Mr. Vader to be proud of Sean buying his new girlfriend a wakeboard instead of buying one for himself. It was a frivolous purchase made way too soon in their relationship. Right? What Adam and I knew, and what Mr. Vader knew too but clearly wasn’t admitting to himself, was that this was the first time Sean had ever done something selfless.

Or so it seemed. But he’d given it to her in front of his mom and dad, like he’d wanted to impress them more than her. e ew factor was off the charts. Parents were bad enough. You didn’t go out of your way to involve them.

Adam was thinking the same thing. “Her birthday isn’t until March. Why’d he make this big presentation at the dinner table?”

“Because he values her,” Mr. Vader said haughtily, “and he wanted to show us how much he values her.”

“Couldn’t he value her out in the Volvo?” Adam hollered. “Jesus!”

Mr. Vader pushed past Adam and resumed his walk up the pier. Partygoers in his yard stepped out of his way. I watched him carve a swath through the crowd until he disappeared inside the house. I couldn’t hear over the music, but I could tell from the way people near the house jerked their heads in that direction that Mr. Vader slammed the door.

Adam pinched his own arm thoughtfully. He reached over and pinched my arm.

“Ow!” I squeaked.

He took me by the shoulders and shook me gently. “He gave her a wakeboard.”

“I know.”

“In front of my parents. Because he values her.” He imitated his dad’s tone, heavy with gravity.

“You could have valued her,” I pointed out. “You could have given her something that meant a lot to you.” I nodded toward his neck.

His eyes flew wide open. He gripped the skull-and-crossbones pendant protectively. “You gave this to me.” We pinned each other with a long look, and I wished for the millionth time in the past week that I could read his mind. He was upset all over again about losing Rachel.

He was mad at Sean about Rachel. He was outraged that his parents believed Sean over him about Rachel. But the pendant was more important to him than Rachel? Because I’d given it to him?

e boys with bottle rockets had noticed us and shouted to us. ey were shooting bottle rockets near us in the water. Sooner or later they would set a boat on fire. Yet I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Adam’s blue eyes so bright in the gray mist. He must have seen something in my eyes, too.

“I’d better go change,” I said slowly. “For the party.”

“Right,” Adam said, still holding my gaze.

“So.” I laughed nervously. Dork. “I’ll meet you back here in a while. Beauty takes patience. Ha ha ha ha.” He shook his head. “We should go to the party like this.”

“Like this? My hair is full of lake.”

“You look great in a bikini. As you know.”

I was glad the dusk hid my blushing face. Or maybe it made my blushing face stand out like it made other colors pop, because I was that fortunate. “What do you mean, as I know? I don’t know.”

“If you didn’t know, you wouldn’t be wearing a bikini to get Sean’s attention.”

“Yeah. Fat lot of good it’s done me.”

“You wouldn’t be flaunting it.”

“Flaunting it! Are you sure? I have no idea what that would look like.”

“Come flaunt it up at the house.”

I wasn’t sure why this irked me. He’d told me I looked good. He’d told me I would look good to Sean. is is what we wanted. Anyway, I couldn’t stand out here and flaunt it for anyone in my bikini. I knew the night was hot and steamy, but the rain had done me in. I was freezing.

“Cold again?” he asked me, stepping closer.

I shivered some more. My stupid body had a mind of its own. “Toasty.”

“Hold on.” He took the extra key to the warehouse from the ledge above the door and stepped inside. He came back out with his zip-up sweatshirt printed with the name of our football team on the front and his number on the back. He held it up like an old man holding up an old lady’s coat for her. I slipped my arms into the sleeves.

Then he turned me around toward him. He pulled the hood up over my hair. Put the hood back down. Kissed me on the tip of my nose.

Foop! A bottle rocket exploded in the water just below us, illuminating a blob of bryozoa clinging to the wharf.

Adam took my hand, whispering, “We’ve got them right where we want them. Trust me.”

He led me through the crowd in the yard, up the deck stairs, into his shadowy living room pulsing with music. Sean was surrounded by a group of people listening with open mouths to his puffed-up story of how he gave Rachel a wake-board. Even Holly and Beige exclaimed like they were happy for Rachel instead of grumbling internally that Rachel was another in a long line and Sean was just showing off. Two feet away, Rachel was surrounded by hoydens screeching about how lucky she was to have a boyfriend like Sean.

From inside the dark room, the lights on the deck must have made Adam and me glow like a TV show. As we stepped through the door, everyone turned to stare at us.

I backed the slightest bit toward Adam. He squeezed my hand.

en the floodgates opened. e girls who’d surrounded Rachel flocked to me to squeal about Adam spray-painting our names on the bridge. e boys with bottle rockets on the dock had seen it before the sun set and had spread the news around the party. e people who’d surrounded Sean moved to Adam and ribbed him about misspelling our names.

Adam played this perfectly. He laughed it all off like he didn’t even care he was getting more attention than his stewing brother. He rubbed my shoulder and asked,

“Aren’t you hungry? We haven’t eaten.” He peered over my shoulder at the spread Mrs. Vader had laid out on the bar. “Party food isn’t going to cover it.”

“Starved.” I followed him around the bar that divided the living room from the kitchen. ere were partial walls on either side, so the kitchen was a little more quiet. At least we could raise our voices over the beat of Splender without making ourselves hoarse.

He opened the refrigerator door. “What’d they have for dinner? Chicken casserole.” He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want the casserole of love, do you?”

“Definitely not.”

“Hey, chica,” Tammy called across the bar.

“Hey, chica,” I responded, and looked over Adam’s shoulder into the refrigerator again. en I realized what I was supposed to be doing. I walked around the bar, screamed, “Tammeeeee!” and hugged her while jumping up and down. This was a lot easier in bare feet than it had been in heels, let me tell you.

“Hi there,” she said, wrestling me off her. “You’re insane. I’m so late. My mom made me play in a stupid tennis tournament in Birmingham today. Where is everybody?” She peered into the kitchen.

“Don’t I count?” Adam asked from inside the refrigerator.

“That’s Adam, right?” Tammy whispered.

“Right,” I said. “Sean is holding court by the palm tree in the living room. The art geeks are outside in the grass.”

“The football team is on the dock, shooting bottle rockets into the lake,” Adam offered. I knew where his heart was.

“The trumpet line from the marching band is on the deck,” I said. “Who were you looking for?”

“You!” Tammy said. She handed me a small present wrapped in Valentine’s paper.

“Hey, thanks!” I said, ripping it open. “What’s it for?” My birthday was still a week and a day away, and I didn’t think anyone from school knew when it was. “How sweet!” I held up the eyelash comb, twirled it between my fingers, and slipped it into the pocket of Adam’s sweatshirt. I hoped I remembered to take it out again at the end of the night. If I didn’t, Adam would have some explaining to do next football season when it fell out of his pocket at practice.

“It’s a hostess gift,” Tammy said. “You know, when you come to a party, you bring a present for the hostess.”

“But I’m not the hostess. This isn’t my house.” I wondered whether she’d tripped over some tennis balls, hit her head, and forgotten she’d gone with me to my house last week, scaring the bejeezus out of the father figure.

“You’re the hostess because you’re the girlfriend of one of the hosts,” Tammy said.

Without meaning to, I glanced up at Adam. He’d closed the refrigerator door and leaned against it, watching me.

“Or pretending to be,” Tammy added.

Adam’s blue eyes widened at me. Something told me—and I am sure this was not feminine instincts, because we have established I did not have any of those—but something told me my explanation of how Tammy knew about the plot might go over better if I heated Adam up. I slid my arms around his waist and pressed close to him, backing him against the refrigerator. His eyes grew even wider.

I gave him a coy half-smile that probably ended up looking like the first signs of a seizure. “You know how girls are. Girls can’t make a move without telling other girls about it.”

“Yeah, girls are like that,” Adam told me, “but you’re not.”

Tammy cleared her throat.

Adam cleared his throat.

I cleared my throat, removed my hands from Adam’s waist, and brushed imaginary dust off his bare shoulders, setting straight any oafish damage I might have done.

From now on, whenever I got the idea that maybe he liked me a little, I would remember that he did not like me a little. I didn’t need to read his mind.

“Heeeeeeey,” Tammy squealed. She must have seen Holly or Beige or a super-cute boy—but no, it was only McGillicuddy. ey disappeared into the living room with their heads close together, shouting over the music. If she got rid of my approaching brother for me because she thought I needed some alone time with Adam to talk out our problems, she was wrong-o about me. Again. I started to follow her.

“Dinner’s ready,” Adam said behind me.

I looked toward the table in the kitchen. He’d set two of the places with knives, forks, spoons, and napkins. He’d placed a sandwich on each plate and sprinkled parsley flakes in a circle around it. Bam! He’d stacked the potato chips artfully in dessert bowls. He’d even lit one of his leftover birthday candles between our places. It all would have been really cute if he’d meant it. It was still pretty cute as a farce to make Rachel jealous, I supposed, but I wasn’t in the mood.

“Let me help you,” he said, pulling out a chair for me, as if I were a girl or something. Vivid imagination, this boy. I sat, and he scooted me up to the table.

He took a bottle of soda from the fridge and held it in front of me, like he was a wine steward. I nodded that the year was okay. He unscrewed the cap and handed it to me. I sniffed it like a wine cork, nodded my approval again, and handed it back to him. He poured soda into wine glasses for both of us, then sat down with me.

He took a gargantuan bite of his sandwich, chewed, swallowed, and looked at me. “What’s wrong?” Oh, nothing. That’s what a girl would say, and she’d sulk for the rest of the night. But I wasn’t capable of keeping my mouth shut. “I’m confused.”

“It’s not really wine,” he said. “It’s Diet Coke. And if anyone ever serves you brown wine with a foamy head, send it back.”

“ank you, Dr. Science.” I took a dainty bite of my sandwich. Adam was a real gourmet. Peanut butter and strawberry jam. “I’m confused because I thought you said I was flaunting, and now I’m not even a girl? I thought you said I was a good flaunter.”

“You are a good flaunter.” He swirled the Diet Coke in his glass and sniffed the bouquet.

“Then why am I not a girl?”

“You—Shit, I knew that’s what you were mad about. I didn’t mean it that way.” He leaned his head to one side and popped his neck. “You know as well as I do that you don’t act like other girls.”

“I’m working on it, though.” I was working so hard! I felt like crying into my salt and vinegar chips, which was a step in the right direction.

“But it’s good you don’t act like other girls. Of course, I don’t have any say in it, because you’re not after me. You’re after Sean.”

“You wouldn’t have any say in it anyway, you patriarchal freak.” I chomped a chip and said with my mouth full, “anks for cooking dinner. I love it when the little missus makes a house a home.”