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Playing the Player
  • Текст добавлен: 6 октября 2016, 03:48

Текст книги "Playing the Player"


Автор книги: Lisa Brown Roberts



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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

My stomach twisted as I thought of what Desi said Trina thought about me. I didn’t care. Not really. She was just a coworker.

Nothing more.




Chapter Twenty-Two

Trina

Saturday, June 15

My phone pinged, rousing me from my couch doze.

Call me asap!

Desi.

I dialed her number. “911. What’s your emergency?”

She giggled in my ear. “Are you sitting down?”

“Technically I’m lying down.”

“Perfect. Now close your eyes. Ready?”

I rolled my eyes, but closed them. Not like she could see, but I’d play along.

“Slade is totally into you.”

My eyes flew open and my heart flew around inside my chest, looking for somewhere to land.

“What?” My voice was a whisper.

“Slade! Oh my God, Trina. He totally stalked me at the mall asking a million questions about you. He’s mad crazy in love with you, girl.”

I closed my eyes, not daring to believe it.

“Maybe you misunderstood. Maybe he was just—”

“Just what?” she snapped. “Since when does he go hunting for girls? Trust me, this is big. I know his style. Slade never works at getting girls. They just line up, and he picks who he wants.”

“Then clearly you’re wrong,” I said. “If there’s a line of girls wrapped around the block, why would he care about me? He probably just stopped in for free pretzels and made small talk with you.”

I tried to believe the words as I said them, but my stupid heart was still flying around inside my chest like a caged bird trying to burst free.

Desi snorted in my ear. “He blushed, Trina. Slade never blushes.”

I kicked the blanket off my legs. I was burning up.

“So you embarrassed him. You’ve made me blush before.”

“You’re damn right I embarrassed him—when I accused him of falling for you.”

“You what?” I jumped up and paced around the living room.

“To quote, I said, ‘Slade Edmunds. I never would have guessed you’d fall for her.’ And he said he hadn’t fallen for you, but his face totally gave him away.”

My heart sank back into place. “Desi, you’re contradicting yourself. If he said—”

“You didn’t see his face when he said it. Trust me, girlfriend, you’re the brightest light on his radar right now.”

No way.

“What did he want to know?”

She hesitated. “Oh, just stuff. You know.”

Now you’re going to be vague? You could quote him thirty seconds ago, but now you don’t remember what he asked?” What was she hiding?

She sighed in my ear. “Trey’s waiting for me, Trina. I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe I’ll remember better then.”

“You suck at lying, Desi.”

“I know.”

“Just tell me.”

She sighed. “He’s trying to figure out…he wants to know why…”

“Why I’m such a freak?” I flopped face down on the couch and buried my head in the cushion.

“He never called you a freak. Or any other name.” She paused. “Honestly, Trina, I’ve never seen him act this way before.”

A loud car horn sounded through the phone.

“I’ve gotta go before my dad kills Trey for honking.” Desi’s voice was rushed. “Call you tomorrow!”

I tossed my phone on the coffee table and buried my head deeper in the couch cushion. Slade figuring out the Freaky Trina show was not going to happen. No way.

Why did he care, anyway?

I headed into my bedroom and booted up my computer. I stared at my screen, willing it to swallow me whole and send me into its circuitry, like that weird Tron movie. I’d rather battle video game characters who could kill me than write my weekly report for Slade’s mom.

Or think about why Slade was asking prying questions about me.

Even worse, another paycheck had arrived in the mail from Dr. Edmunds. I’d shoved it in my desk drawer because I couldn’t bring myself to deposit them anymore. Not when my feelings about Slade were such a jumble.

The cursor blinked at me, daring me to put on my “mentor” hat and document all the things Slade had done wrong. Or right.

What about me? What about all the things I’d screwed up? Maybe I should write a report about myself. I sighed heavily and started typing.

The kids are bonding well with Slade.

I paused. What about Slade and me? Were we bonding? Something had shifted at Jungle Fever. There’d been that moment under the tree, when I thought maybe….

This was the problem with me going so long without dating, or going on blind dates from hell courtesy of Desi. I’d forgotten how to be normal around guys.

I jumped up from my chair. Mom was working a twenty-four hour shift, so the rest of the afternoon and night were completely mine. I needed to do something to get out of my head. I didn’t want to turn into one of those stupid obsesso-girls who couldn’t talk or think about anything but some guy.

The bus ride to the shelter would put me there in less than an hour. Sharon was always happy to see me, and there had to be something constructive to do there. Maybe it would absolve a little bit of my guilt about those stupid paychecks sitting in my drawer.

And keep my mind off Slade and his prying questions.




Chapter Twenty-Three

Trina

Monday, June 17

I woke up exhausted. Besides a nightmare about my brother, something I hadn’t had for a long time, I’d also dreamt about Slade. We’d sat under the tree at the park and he’d kissed me, but then he’d pulled away, laughing, and suddenly we were surrounded by a bunch of kids from school, laughing and pointing at me.

Yesterday, before he’d stalked Desi at the mall, Slade had texted me his idea for the day. He wanted to take the kids to a park that had outdoor rock walls for climbing and fountains that shot out of the ground. He’d surprised me by suggesting he pick me up first, and then we’d get the kids.

I’d refused, using my sleeping mom as an excuse, but the truth was I didn’t want him seeing Brian’s shrine, which Mom had set up for this week’s anniversary.

After I showered, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror blow-drying my hair. I yanked my fingers through it, pulling out the ends to make wispy spikes around my face.

Desi had to be wrong. I wasn’t blow-drying long, blonde waves of hair. I didn’t have ginormous boobs or wear tons of makeup. My eyes were brown, not blue or green. I was pale, not suntanned like a beach goddess.

It didn’t make any sense that Slade would turn into the Miss America judge who preferred the girl who won the talent competition instead of the swimsuit contest.

Mom had left a note by the toaster. See you tonight. Pizza and movie? XOXO.

Like I had any other plans?

I made a cup of nasty instant coffee while my Pop Tart toasted. I’d rather have awesome coffee from Starbucks, but I was trying not to spend any extra money. Even though I could afford it, what with the extortion money and all.

I couldn’t stop yawning as I walked down the three flights of stairs from our apartment to the parking lot. Our ancient Honda had seen better days. Sometimes I envied Desi’s newer SUV, with its Bluetooth and GPS. And Slade’s Jetta that he didn’t think was cool enough.

Slade and I had agreed to meet at the park; he’d bring Max and I’d bring Gilly. As I drove, I tried to clamp down the hope bubbling inside of me, but it filled me up just like music did when I danced in my room, when no one was watching.

Gilly tore across the park, heading straight for Max, who was already halfway up a climbing wall. Slade turned, saw me, and turned away.

Startled by the closed expression on his face, I almost tripped. What the heck? My heart had been fluttering the whole drive to the park as I imagined all the different things he might say, and the ways he might look at me.

Ignoring me hadn’t been on my list of possibilities.

I slowed my pace. The hope inside me dimmed, just like turning down the volume on my favorite music.

Slade glanced at me as I paused near where he stood. “Hey,” he said, frowning slightly.

I forced a smile. “Hi.” Maybe he was just tired, like me.

He didn’t return my smile. He took a long drink of coffee from his travel mug and turned his attention back to Max.

I took a deep breath and headed toward the kids. Max looked down from the top of the wall and grinned at me.

“Trina, look what I did! I didn’t even need your magic.”

Since Slade was ignoring me, I was grateful for Max’s excited energy and the distraction of all the spazzy kids running around. “You rock, Max.”

“What about me?” Gilly yelled.

I laughed. “You’re a rock star, too, Gilly.”

“I thought you only called her Gillian.” Slade’s voice startled me.

He’d appeared next to me, still frowning. What was his damage today? One thing was for sure: Desi had totally misread how he felt about me.

I shrugged. “She likes being called Gilly.”

He nodded and took another drink of coffee. The aroma reached my nose. It smelled a lot better than the instant junk I’d had that morning.

“That coffee smells awesome,” I said, trying one last time to shake him out of his funk.

He hesitated then held out the mug. “Try it.”

“Uh, that’s okay. I already had some this morning.” The idea of putting my lips where his had just been was more than I could handle.

He narrowed his eyes, and then took another drink. “Whatever.”

I’d had enough of his attitude. Scoping out the park, I noticed a couple of cute girls checking out Slade. I snuck a glance at him and saw that he’d noticed them, too.

Clearly the last person Slade was interested in was me.

“Hey, Max, did you see that cool slide?” I pointed toward the playground where a tall, twisting slide towered over all the other equipment.

Max clambered down the wall, Gilly close behind him.

“Let’s go.” I grabbed their hands and we ran toward the playground, not looking back.

I followed Gilly and Max up the slide’s ladder. My stomach dipped a little as I reached the top, but I told myself it was a lot easier than climbing a rock wall.

Max sat behind Gilly, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Slide train,” he giggled, then looked up at me. “Come on, Trina. You can be the caboose.”

I scooted behind them, wrapping my legs and arms around Max.

“Ready?” Gilly yelled over her shoulder.

“Ready!” Max shouted.

I made a train whistle noise and glanced across the playground. I saw Slade talking to the girls who’d been checking him out. He was smiling now, and laughing. He glanced at us just as we launched ourselves down the slide.

We spun in circles, the hot plastic burning my legs. We fell in a heap at the bottom of the slide, rolling on top of one another in the sand.

The kids jumped up, laughing. “Let’s do it again,” Max said.

“Sure,” I said. “But this time I get to be in front.” That way I could put on the brakes and prevent any more sand from going up my underwear.

“Where’s Slade?” Gillian asked.

“Over there.” Max pointed.

“He’s busy,” I said, refusing to look at him.

“Who are those girls?” Gillian asked.

I met her curious gaze. “Must be friends of his.”

She frowned at me. “But I thought you were his girlfriend.”

I forced a laugh. “No, sweetie. We’re just…um, well we’re work partners. Taking care of you and Max.”

She chewed on her thumb. “I think you should be his girlfriend.”

Maybe Gilly and Desi should get together, since they both lived in the same fantasy world.

“That’s not going to happen,” I said.

“Come on!” Max interrupted our relationship analysis. “Last one to the ladder is a stink bomb.”

I snuck one last glance at Slade. One of the girls had her cell out, and I knew they were exchanging numbers.

No doubt he’d be hooking up with her later, probably tonight.

I jogged to the slide, determined to ignore Slade for the rest of the day.

Nanny notes: Park

CONS: The entire day. The other nanny’s major attitude problem.

PROS: Zilch.




Chapter Twenty-Four

Slade

Tuesday, June 18

I woke up hungover. Even worse, I felt something I wasn’t used to feeling.

Regret.

I’d never felt that after hooking up with a girl, especially when she was the one chasing me, but today was different. Not only did I never want to see the girl from the park again, I most definitely did not want to face Trina at the swimming pool.

Not that she’d know about last night.

But I knew.

I wanted to stay in bed and sleep all day, but I couldn’t. I’d promised Lindsay to be her sub, and I couldn’t bail.

Unfortunately, Dad was already in position at the kitchen table, coffee in one hand, New York Times in the other. The guy was as predictable as the sunrise.

“You were out late last night.”

I ignored him and poured myself a huge mug of coffee.

“Teaching another swim lesson this morning?” he asked my back.

“Yep.” I refused to turn around. I wasn’t interested in facing the inquisition.

“How’s the nannying going?”

I shrugged, closing my eyes to block out the image of Trina’s hurt expression yesterday when I’d been so cold to her.

Dad’s sigh was loud enough to wake the dead. I ignored him and left the kitchen. I’d stop at Mickey D’s on my way to the rec center. I didn’t need his disapproval shaming me all morning. I was doing a good enough job of that myself.

I got to the pool five minutes early, a record for me. The ladies were already there, and so was Skinny Guy, but Trina wasn’t. I glanced at the clock. She still had a couple of minutes until we started.

“Hey, gang.” I went into entertainer mode. I needed to snap out of my funk, and I had some new ideas to try out. Something I hoped wouldn’t seem condescending.

“Everybody warm up,” I said. I watched the clock anxiously. 10:06. “Take a kickboard,” I said, tossing them into the water. “We’re going to work on breathing again today. We’ll stay in the shallow end so you can focus on breathing without worrying about, uh—”

“Drowning?” joked Nancy, the one who always wore the orange swimsuit.

I grinned at her. “Come on, Nance,” I said. “Nobody’s going to drown.”

I showed them what I wanted them to do, holding the kickboard out in front of me and dipping my head in and out of the water, turning to one side to breathe.

“If you’re right-handed, you probably want to turn to the right to breathe,” I said. “But try it both ways and see what feels natural.”

I watched them, keenly aware that Trina was still AWOL.

Regret and embarrassment about my behavior yesterday, and last night, rose like bile in my throat. Things hadn’t gone very far with the girl from the park, but I still felt like crap. Like I’d betrayed Trina somehow, which didn’t even make sense.

This. Sucked.

I closed my eyes and breathed in deep. I thought of Trina’s lavender oil and wished I could hold her hand again, and look into her beautiful, sad eyes. I wished I could erase yesterday, and last night. More than anything, I wished I’d kissed her that day under the tree.

At least I’d know how she felt about me, if I’d been willing to show her how I felt about her.

But life didn’t grant do-overs.

After the lesson, I tracked down Mark at the front desk.

“What’s up, Slade?”

“Uh, someone was missing from my lesson today. I wondered if maybe she’d called.”

Curiosity flickered in his eyes. “You’re showing a lot of concern, for a sub.”

I shrugged. “It’s just, um, someone I know. From school.”

“Ah,” he said.

I didn’t like the smirk on his face.

“Let me check.” He tapped the keyboard and frowned. “Looks like she switched classes. She dropped this one and is coming to the Sunday afternoon lesson instead.”

Shit.

If I needed any more proof about how much I’d hurt her, this was definitely it.

Alex was right; I was a dick.




Chapter Twenty-Five

Trina

Tuesday, June 18

“Report,” Desi demanded, when I answered her call. I lay on the couch, waiting for Mom to get home. She’d texted me that she had to work late and wouldn’t be home until around nine thirty, which just prolonged the agony of what we needed to do tonight.

“Nothing to report.” I picked at some loose threads on the blanket I’d tucked around me. It was ninety degrees outside, but I was shivering.

“Same old Slade?” she asked.

I didn’t want to talk about the asshole version of Slade who’d showed up at the park yesterday. Instead I focused on the slurping sound in my ear. “Are you on break?”

“Yeah. I’m addicted to the lemonade.” She slurped again. “I get off in an hour. Let’s do something.”

“Don’t you have a date with Trey?”

“Not really a date. A bunch of us are going to a movie. You should come.”

I sighed and picked at the loose threads again. “I can’t.” I took a deep breath. “Today’s the anniversary. I need to be here with Mom.”

“Oh, honey,” Desi said breathily. “I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“It’s okay.”

“Is your mom home?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll come over as soon as I’m off work. I can stay with you until she gets home.”

“Desi, I’m fine. Besides, she’s the one who falls apart on the anniversary. Not me.”

Desi was quiet for a moment. “True. You never fall apart, do you?”

“Go to your movie,” I told her. “I’ll be fine. Mom and I will have dinner. Then she’ll light candles, say a rosary, and collapse. I’ll hold her until she cries herself to sleep. Then I’ll go to bed.”

Desi inhaled sharply. “God, Trina. That sounds awful.”

I sighed. “It’s what Mom needs to do, and I need to be here with her. Tomorrow we’ll eat Pop Tarts and drink lousy coffee and start a new day.”

“Okay, well, we’re still on for tomorrow night, right?”

“Um, tomorrow?”

“Pizza and The Voice, right? My house?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. I, um, forgot.”

“Something has totally distracted you.” She snorted. “Maybe the other nanny is what’s messing with your memory.”

“Desi…” My voice was full of warning.

“Okay, okay. I’ll drop it.” She laughed in my ear. “Anyway. You know you can call me any time, right? Like tonight, after your mom goes to sleep, if you want to come spend the night at my house or whatever.”

I smiled into the phone. “Desi, did anyone ever tell you you’re the best friend ever?”

“Once or twice. Some shrimpy little girl who keeps stalking me.”

I laughed. “Bite me, supermodel.”

Desi slurped in my ear again. “I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She paused. “I’ll be sending you positive vibes tonight. And your mom.”

“Thanks.” I pushed the blanket off my bare legs. I needed something to think about besides tonight’s impending gloom.

The shouts of little kids playing outside drew my attention. I moved to the window and watched them run on the small grassy area of our apartment complex. One of the girls reminded me of Gillian, fearlessly climbing to the top of the fence.

Slade’s cold indifference at the park loomed in my mind, and I shook my head, as if I could shatter the images into a million pieces. So he didn’t like me. So what? That was hardly a news flash. He was a good actor, though, I’d give him that. I’d actually been fooled a little bit, thinking we might end up friends by the end of summer. And for one delusional moment, I’d dared to hope for more than friendship.

My eyes shifted to the table in the corner. A new candle towered over the others, which had burned low over the years. Mom bought a new candle for each anniversary of my brother’s death. This one was red, slim, and tapered at the top.

Breathing slowly, I walked to the table. My hands trembled as I lifted the picture frame. I looked into my brother’s laughing face, preserved forever at five years old, the age of his death. The same age as Gillian and Max.

We’d been inseparable. I was only eleven months older than him. Most of my memories were vague, but what I felt in my heart confirmed what my mom always said, that he and I were always together.

“You were like twins,” she said. “You even had a secret language you used around Dad and me, when you didn’t want us to understand your silly schemes.”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I closed them and heard his infectious giggle. I saw flashes in my mind, of running after him in the grass, of hiding under a blanket on my bed hoping no one would find us. Most of the images were faded, but I clung to them because I didn’t want to forget.

Only one image was as clear as if it had happened this morning. My legs shook as I let the memory overwhelm me. I let it come, because I owed it to Brian, on this day, to fully remember. I heard the faraway laughter of the grown-ups, the music. Remembered the feel of the damp grass under my bare feet as I ran toward the shimmering pool, beckoning me like a beacon. Heard Brian’s footsteps behind me, his laughter, then his pleading voice begging me to slow down. I always ran faster; it was the only thing I did better than him.

Sinking to the carpet now, I hugged his picture to my chest. Guilt washed over me as I relived how victorious I’d felt outrunning him, sprinting around the edge of the pool. I’d been so focused on myself, on changing course to run back to our parents, that I’d never heard the splash.

I bent my head over the framed photo and wept deeply, sorrowfully, full of remorse and regret.

Desi was wrong.

I did fall apart, but only by myself.

After Mom got home, we sat on the couch in front of the altar full of glowing candles. She drank wine and I drank soda. We listened to her old Carole King albums, which made her cry even when it wasn’t the anniversary of Brian’s death.

Eventually she cried herself to sleep on the couch, just like I’d told Desi she would. I tucked the blanket around her and turned down the stereo volume. It was sweet of Desi to invite me to spend the night, but I needed to stay with my mom. Tonight, we belonged together.

One by one, I blew out the candles. With each puff of breath, I remembered Brian, sent him love, and prayed for forgiveness.


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