Текст книги "Betwixt"

Автор книги: Melissa Pearl

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

CHAPTER TEN

The bell rings moments later and the students hurry to pack up their things. Mr. Moffat is stuffing papers into his bag as he walks out the door with everybody else. I guess students aren't the only ones who are desperate to leave at the end of the day.

Dale takes his time collecting his stuff, no doubt waiting for the class to empty so he can talk to me without looking like a total goof-ball.

My phone chirps as the last senior saunters out the door.

Dale gives a disgusted snort and slaps it down on the table.

"What?"

"Your friends suck."

"Why? What are they saying?" I reach for the phone, forgetting my fingers will pass straight through it. I let out a sigh and step back. "Can you read it for me, please."

"No." Dale grabs the phone and pops it in his pocket.

"Hey, that's my phone! Now read me the tweet."

"Forget it."

"Dale." I cross my arms and force my voice to remain calm. "I-"

"I'm not reading you the tweet, Nicole."

"Why not?"

"Let's just say the hashtag's changed."

"To what?"

Dale sighs and looks to the floor.

"You don't want to know, okay?"

My forehead crinkles and I swallow down the hurt. It must be bad if Dale's not willing to show me. I hate that I'm so desperate to see it even though it will probably hurt like hell.

"Tell me. I need to know."

"I'm not doing it." Dale goes to stride past me and I stand in his way. He walks straight through me and we both shudder. He spins around with a gasp. "DON'T do that to me again. Ever."

He let's out his breath and rubs his forehead.

"Tell me what it says or I'll do it to you for the rest of the day."

He groans and throws his hands in the air.

"None of these people you hang out with care about you. You're obviously missing and all they've done is started a twitter frenzy about what might have happened to you!" He pulls out my phone. "Some of these tweets are foul, Nicky. How can you be friends with these people?"

His sweet desperation at my plight pulls on heart strings I never knew I had. My eyes burn as I snap back, "Because they don't care about me."

Dale's shoulders drop and he stares at me in confusion.

I swallow and continue like an idiot.

"They're too shallow to dig any deeper than the clothes I'm wearing, or the shoes I have on... or what party I'm going to... or who I'm sleeping with. They don't care about what makes me tick... and they don't want to know anything about who I really am. They'll never know and that's just the way I want it."

"Never know what?"

"Nothing." I swallow. "I meant they'll never really know me." My cover is so pathetic, but Dale mercifully lets it slide.

"You know that's messed up, right?" The smile that follows his sweet statement is too cute.

I bite my lips together and nod.

"You okay?"

I clear my throat in reply to Dale's quiet words.

"Come on let's go drive around the national park for a while."

I cross my arms and follow him.

"I just have to stop at my locker first."

His pace is still quite fast, but I manage to keep up with him as I follow him to his locker. We pass Sophie on the way, she gives him a shy smile and he nods back.

I want to tease him again, but force myself to come up with something else. I need him on my side, not telling me to shut my mouth again.

"What's youth group?"

He turns to look at Sophie then back at me with a suspicious glare.

"I'm just asking what it is." I raise my hands.

Stopping at his locker, he dials the combination and looks to make sure no one is nearby. "It's just a bunch of kids from my church. We get together every Friday night and hang out."

"And do what? Read your bibles?"

His eyebrows bunch together as he tries to hide his grin. "Sometimes. Not always. We usually just get together to have some fun."

"What kind of fun?"

"Games, paint ball, movies... last Friday we handed out glowsticks, turned out all the lights and danced our asses off."

I laugh. "To hymns?"

"Okay, your misconceptions are frightening."

He closes his locker and zips up his bag.

"Well excuse me, but I've never been to church before."

"Maybe you should come check it out."

"No thank you." I frown.

He looks a little insulted, but that half smile works its way through and pops his scar to the side.

"You think the only way to have fun is to get drunk, buy clothes, date losers and say bitchy things about people?"

I take a step away from him. Although they were said with light humor, I knew he meant every word.

"Wow." I swallow. "You really don't like me, do you?"

His eyes wash with quick regret as he hitches his bag onto his shoulder.

"I let you keep the dog tags, didn't I?"

I watch him walk away from me, not sure whether to be insulted or touched. Hanging out with him is the most confusing thing I've ever done. I stand there like an idiot, not sure what to feel.

My ghostly body takes charge and runs after him before I can stop myself.

I catch up and we walk side-by-side. He clears his throat and sniffs then glances over his right shoulder.

"I'm on your left."

His smile appears as he glances down at me. How can someone look so sure of themselves and so awkward at the same time?

"I can't imagine you dancing." The words tumble out before I can stop them.

Dale chuckles and whispers, "Believe me, if glow sticks hadn't been the only form of lighting, you couldn't have dragged me from a chair."

I grin.

"Did you go all Footloose on their butts?"

"You better believe it, baby."

Laughter rings out of me. It's such a surprising sound I actually stop walking. It is almost foreign to my ears... I haven't laughed like that since...

I swallow and frown.

No one can make me laugh anymore, at least not the genuine kind that's bubbling in my belly right now. How did Dale manage to do it?

Images of him Gleeking-it-up on the dance floor bring on a fresh wave of giggles. I swallow them back and chase after him.

Dale is standing at the school exit chatting to Adam Hutton. The guy is like Thor next to Dale. His broad frame takes up most of the doorway. I shuffle up beside them as they walk out the door. I can sense Dale listening out for me, so I give him a heads up.

"Behind your left shoulder."

He nods then tunes back into Adam's conversation.

"... wants me to apply to all the big east coast colleges. Where do you think you'll go next year?"

Dale shrugs.

"Not sure yet. I still need to check out some course guides and figure out what I want to do. It's only September, I don't want to get caught up with the whole college thing until I absolutely have to."

"Yeah." Adam forces out an awkward chuckle.

What's he got to worry about? He's going to be valedictorian for sure. The guy works harder than any other student at this school, not to mention the fact he's a star athlete and on the student council. The guy's so golden he's practically a statue.

I wonder how he came to be friends with Dale?

"Are you okay, man? You look kinda tired." Dale slaps him on the shoulder.

Who am I kidding? Dale is so nice to everybody, who wouldn't want to be friends with him.

Adam runs his hand through his shaggy blond hair. "I didn't sleep well last night. I worked late on an assignment then couldn't switch off." He shrugs and shoots Dale a nervous smile. "I'm my own worst enemy."

Dale grins and fishes in his pocket for his keys.

"Catch you later, man." Adam gives him a wave and saunters towards the bus stop.

"Hey, you want a ride?"

Adam's square face brightens with a smile. "You sure? That'd be awesome, thanks."

"What? Why?" I frown. I don't want to share the car with anyone else. I want to talk to Dale uninterrupted. "Do we really have time for this? Don't we have some pre-dark searching to do?"

Dale shoots a stern look in my direction. "He's on the way," he whispers.

Adam lopes over to the car and opens the passenger door.

Dale opens his door and pretends to fluff around with his bag, giving me time to jump in the back.

"Thanks," I whisper, still a little sulky.

He throws his bag in the back with a wink. I can't help smiling.

I shuffle back in the seat as Adam starts talking again.

"My mom stole my car."

Dale laughs. "What?!"

"Yeah, hers is in the shop getting fixed and she took off with mine for the day. She didn't even offer to swing by and collect me after school. Man, I hate catching the bus. You saved me, bro."

"Not a problem."

The car revs to life and Dale swings out of the parking lot.

I really don't like Dale's car. It's an old Toyota Corolla. A mustard yellow hunk of junk. Adam rolls down the window and we all wince at the high pitched screech.

"Sorry, man." Dale grins. "Had to save for this baby on my own, so it's... an inbetweener."

"Nah, it's cool."

Adam is being very polite. He owns a gorgeous midnight blue mustang that guys drool over and girls want rides in. He got it for his 16th birthday. It was a gift from his rich uncle and apparently his Dad (Sheriff Hutton) totally flipped out. After an epic battle he was allowed to keep the car, but I think the rules are pretty strict. If he ever gets in trouble – which he never does – but if he ever did, the car would be the first thing to go.

Adam is a really nice guy, but man, he struts like a peacock when he's walking into school each morning.

I roll my eyes as we bump our way to the Hutton home.

My phone chirps again and Dale reaches for it.

He frowns.

"You know it's really dangerous to read and drive."

He glances in the rearview mirror and shoots me a dry look. I grin.

Clearing his throat, Dale drops the phone in his lap and looks at Adam.

"You voted in the Nicole Poll today?"

"Nah, man. I'm not into that stuff." Adam looks out the window and clears his throat.

"Do you know her very well?"

"What are you doing?" I lean forward.

Adam shrugs.

"Yeah, sort of. We used to hang out a little when we were kids."

"So, what's up with her?

"What'd you mean?"

"Come on." Dale smiles. "Was she always like this?"

"Always like what?"

"You know, outspoken, irritating..."

I punch Dale as hard as I can. My fist goes straight through his shoulder, but at least I see him shiver.

Adam's still looking out the window, but gives a hearty laugh. I throw him the evils.

"No way." Adam shakes his head and turns back to face his friend. "She used to be awesome. We hung out all the time in middle school. There was this massive group of us and we used to do everything together. Nicole was always really organized and she'd come up with this whacky stuff for us to do."

I notice Dale's head tip to the side and his eyes narrow slightly. "What happened?"

"It's none of your business," I whisper sharply.

"Jody."

"Who?"

Adam glances at Dale. "You don't know this story?"

Dale shakes his head.

"Jody was Nicole's little sister. She was this cute little blonde kid with a constant smile. Pure sunshine, you know?"

My heart begins to pound so hard I think it might burst out of my chest. I push my fingers into the middle of my ribcage.

"Nicole adored her. One day she..." Adam clears his throat.

Don't say it. Don't tell him, Adam. I want to scream the words aloud, but I know it won't do any good.

"She fell out of a tree, broke her neck and died."

My ears start ringing as I slump back into my seat.

"She was only nine," Adam ended softly.

"Whoa." Dale's knuckles are white as they grip the wheel. "That explains a lot."

"Nicole was the one who found her."

Dale's head jerks to the side. The surprise on his face is unmissable, swiftly followed by sadness. I turn away from it. There's nothing I can say to stop this.

"She's never been the same since. She went into hiding over the summer and then when she got to high school she started hanging out with..."

"The wrong kinda people?"

"Pretty much." Adam nods.

The car fills with that eerie silence that follows tragic news. I keep my eyes out the window, watching the world slow to a stop as Dale pulls into Adam's driveway. Dale pulls up the parking brake as Adam opens his door.

"Do you think she's run away?"

Adam pauses and scratches the nape of his neck.

"I don't know, man. Maybe." His Adam’s apple shoots down his throat and back up again before he forces a smile and gets out of the car.

Dale waits for the slam of the door before reversing onto the road. I watch Adam walk to his door then turn and watch us leave. I swivel in the seat and look out the back window as he gazes after us.

Part of me wants to hate him. Another part has to admit that it was going to come out eventually.

I glance back at Dale. He keeps looking in the rearview mirror, searching for my response.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I don't say anything. I can't. Adam is soon out of view. I keep looking out the back window, unable to face Dale. He was the one person at school who didn't know.

I hate that the status quo has changed.

Dale clears his throat.

"You want to sit in front with me?"

"No, I'm fine back here," I mumble.

The car eases to a stop. Slowly I turn around to see Dale facing me.

"I'm sorry." His voice is soft.

"For what?" My voice is hard.

His eyes fill with compassion as he whispers, "I'm sorry you had to find your sister like that. I'm sorry you lost her."

"I don't want to talk about it." I clear my throat.

"Nic-"

"I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!"

Dale jolts back in his seat and accidentally hits the horn. Adjusting his position, he swivels back to face the road and gives a short, "Okay."

Putting the car in gear, we bunny hop forward for a second until Dale finds his rhythm. I'm still clinging to my numbness – the only form of protection I've known since the accident.

I close my eyes.

Jody.

I squeeze my hand into a tight fist, willing it to hurt. I used to be able to draw blood. I open my hand now and see nothing... of course. You can't cut ghosts' skin... just their hearts.

Silence fills the car until we pass the turn off to Matt's house and start heading further into the forest.

"Anything look familiar?"

I lean towards the glass and shake my head.

"Nicole?"

"It all looks the same." I sigh. "I could have been anywhere around here."

"Just keep looking, see if something sparks a memory."

I do what I'm told and ask Dale to slow down about five minutes later.

"This could be it. I mean there's a steep bank all along this road."

"Well, let's get out and take a look."

Dale looks hopeful as he jumps out the door and starts walking along the road.

"If you were hit, there will probably be markings or damage to the guardrail," he calls over his shoulder. "You head up that way and I'll try down here, see if we spot anything."

I grab the dog tags around my neck as I march up the road, looking at the guardrail. I've walked at least a 100 yards when I turn around and shout, "I don't see anything. The railing looks fine."

"Same down here." Dale's voice wafts back to me. "Come on, let's drive a little further."

We spend the next hour jumping in and out of the car. The guardrail is fine along the entire road and by mile fifteen, I'm totally over it.

"I don't want to do this anymore."

Dale glances at his watch.

"I should probably get home anyway." He puts his foot on the gas and we head back towards Big Bear Village.

"What a waste of time." I sigh.

"I don't think so."

I look over at him from the front passenger's seat.

"I always knew you were an idiot."

His snicker is followed by a quick smirk.

"We can cross that stretch of road off now. It wasn't a waste of time."

"Okay, fine." I lean my head back against the seat and close my eyes.

Sometimes I feel like Dale can see me or something. It's like he can sense what I'm doing and rather than launching into more tiring conversation, he simply leans forward and turns on the radio.

The music washes over us as we amble back to town. I feel the beat thump inside me as the lyrics swirl in my brain. I can't help singing along.

"You actually like this song?"

I open my eyes and spot Dale's grin. "Everybody likes this song."

"No, no they really don't."

My eyebrows dip together. "Then why are you listening to it?"

"Because I like the sound of your voice."

Embarrassed, I sit up a little straighter. A smile tugs on my lips and I fight to iron it out.

"So you like to sing, at home, when no one's watching?" Dale changes gear and glances over at me.

"Maybe." I shrug.

"Hairbrush or deodorant?"

I grin.

"My hairbrush makes a much better microphone."

"Nice." Dale nods. "I was always more of a spatula kinda guy."

"You were not." I try to playfully whack his shoulder, but my hand goes straight through.

He scratches the spot I hit him and laughs. "I swear, I used to find every bowl and pot in the kitchen and turn it into this mega drum kit. I'd smack the hell out of those things. It drove my mother insane."

I laugh. "Good musicians start young, I guess."

"Yeah, well I'm hardly a talent, but I have fun."

"So, a drummer boy then. You know, that's actually pretty cool."

"Oh, well I'm glad you approve."

Another song starts and I feel my insides jolt with pleasure. I love this one.

"Can you turn it up, please?"

Dale obliges without comment and for some reason, I launch into song. I don't know why. I'd never do it with any of my friends, but I somehow feel as though I'm allowed to in this dungy old car. Like it's safe or something.

I finish the song with a loud flourish.

Dale shakes his head with a grin. "You're a Gleek aren't you?"

"No." I turn in my seat then sigh. "Maybe... okay yes, but if you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

"Why don't you want me to tell anyone. Glee's cool."

"Shut up. Glee is cool."

"It is."

Huh! Sarcastic much!

My eyes narrow as I gaze at him.

"I know you can't see it right now, but I'm giving you a very dry look."

"No, I can see it."

"You can?" My voice comes out all high and squeaky.

"In my head," Dale admits softly. "I can picture you really clearly in my head and I know that look. You do it a lot."

I don't know how to respond to this. He makes it sound as though he's been studying me since he arrived at our school about a year ago. I gaze at him in confused silence then glance down at my nails, suddenly awkward.

Leaning back in his seat, Dale pulls out his iPod and searches for music while trying to keep an eye on the road. A few minutes later, he's plugging it into the stereo with a grin.

"You know what's cooler than Glee though, right?"

Cranking up the volume, Dale lets Granite thump through the car.

A delighted laugh escapes my lips as Dale starts belting out the tune with gusto.

Within seconds I'm joining him.

We sing as loudly as we can, all the way to Dale's house.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I have no reason to be nervous about going into Dale's house, but I am. I step through the door and gaze around the interior. It's actually quite nice. Very plain and simple, but classy all the same. The walls are wooden, giving it that log cabin feel, I bet there's a fireplace in the living room. I glance at the solid wooden bannister on the left side of the stairs and wonder if Dale's ever popped his legs either side of it and slid down to the bottom. It'd be tempting, that's for sure.

Dale's mother appears around the corner.

"Hey sweetie." She reaches up on tiptoes and gives Dale a kiss on the cheek.

Far out I think she's actually shorter than me! I didn't think that was possible.

Stepping back, she looks up with an adoring smile. "How was school?"

"Yeah, good."

His mother walks towards the kitchen.

"An eventful day?"

Dale looks over his shoulder with a wry smile. "You could say that."

"But a good one?" She turns at the kitchen counter. Her eyes are dancing with sweet merriment. It's really hard not to look at them.

Dale smiles and nods his head.

"Yeah, mom, it was great."

"Fantastic."

Far out, she looks as though she's about to cry. She obviously really wants Dale to do well at school, or be happy... or something. My heart gives a little squeeze as I watch her genuine interest as Dale runs through the bland parts of his day and makes up some excuse about why he's late.

"Dinner's in half an hour. I'll call you when it's ready."

"Awesome, I'm starving." Dale kisses her cheek and scoots up the stairs just off the kitchen.

I can't help gazing around the house as I follow him up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. The whole feel of the house is different to mine. It's much older – looks like it was built in the 70s or 80s. The carpet's been redone though, but with a nice rich burgandy color that gives the house a yummy warmth.

Yummy warmth? Really?

I shake my head. That's what it feels like. I don't know how else to describe it.

I run my hand along the wall, trying really hard to stop my fingers going through. I feel nothing and scowl as my digits pass through a painting.

"So this is my room." Dale opens his door.

I walk in and am once again hit by the warmth.

I wonder if my mom sold them this house. It's so not her style, but knowing her she would have chucked that warmth word in numerous times.

There's a double bed in the corner of the room with a bright green duvet. It's quite over powering, but I resist the urge to comment. It's his room, not mine. Dale dumps his bag next to his desk and scans the shelf above it.

"What are you looking for?"

"When we first moved here, Dad bought me a map book of the area. We highlighted a bunch of hiking trails we wanted to do."

"And let me guess, you haven't done any of them."

Dale looks at me with surprise. "No, we've done about eight so far."

"Oh." I run my fingers through my hair and turn away, feeling stupid.

"Here it is." He pulls it out and flicks through the pages. "Okay, so this is where we drove today." He rummages through his desk for a highlighter and crosses out the section of the road we drove on. "So maybe tomorrow I can get up early and we can do this section before school."

I look over his shoulder. "You'd have to get up pretty damn early."

"I know." He nods. "I just can't play hooky. I'm really sorry, but..."

His face bunches with regret.

"I'm not asking you to play hooky." The words come out a little snappier than I mean them to. I guess it just bugs me that he assumes I think skipping out of school is something I never put any thought into. What he will never know is that I've never missed a day of school when I've had an important test and I've never once handed in an assignment late. My hooky days always coincide with the days I can't bear facing the student population. I invite Amber because she's too self-absorbed to notice my moods.

"Should I be calling the police?" Dale's question makes me turn to face him.

"I don't think they take these kinds of cases seriously for at least 48 hours."

"Maybe the sheriff can help us."

"Sheriff Hutton?" I shake my head and start scanning his room. "I doubt it. He tends to be a stickler for the rules."

"What if I tell him what I know."

I bob down to peruse Dale's book collection. "He'll wonder how you know this stuff. You can't tell him you can hear me. Everyone will think you're crazy."

"I can't just sit here and do nothing."

I stand up and face him, loving the fact he wants to try so hard.

"You need food and sleep, Dale. You're no use to me starving and hungry." I keep my voice as casual as I can. I'm right. I'm being sensible. There's nothing more we can do right now.

Fear coils in my belly.

I try to ward it off with distraction and move to Dale's second bookshelf. Man, this guy sure likes to read.

"You have some good titles here," I murmur.

"Yeah, well reading's good for the brain." He steps towards my voice.

I glide past him and move to his desk. It's in disarray with piles of books surrounding his computer. I notice a huge stack of pages in a neat pile and lean over to see what they are.

The Trojan's Secret by Dale Finnigan

"I didn't know you liked writing?"

"Uh," Dale nervously jumps towards his desk. "Don't read that."

"Why not?"

"It's not finished." He picks up the one of his textbooks and covers the first page.

"Fine." I cross my arms and mumble, "Spoil sport," as I turn away.

"It's just that I-"

"Who's the older woman, Mr. Cougar Hunter?" I lean down to inspect the photo I've just spotted. Dale has his arm around a gorgeous woman with dark curls and a beaming smile.

Dale steps up beside me. "Firstly gross and secondly, she's my sister, Rachel."

"Really? How old is she?"

"Thirty." He picks up the photo next to it. "These are her kids Emma and Tim."

I gaze at the three impish grins in the picture. Dale is holding his two ice-cream covered relations. "Look at your face – the proud uncle."

"I can't help it. They are two cutie-pies."

"I can't believe you're an Uncle Dale."

"Yeah, well, Unky Dee at this stage."

He blushes red while returning the picture to its rightful place.

"So..." I look to my feet then casually shrug. "How old's your mom?"

Dale shoves his hands in his pockets and turns away from me.

"What, you're not going to tell me?"

"Look my parents are awesome, okay." He spins back to face me. "I don't need you spreading gossip about them."

"I wouldn't!" I try to ignore his dry look, but it's hard to miss. I huff. "You don't trust me."

He shrugs. "Why should I?"

I open my mouth with a sharp response, but I'm interrupted by a black labrador that bursts through the door with a happy bark. I yelp and jump back.

Dale laughs.

"It's okay, he won't hurt a fly."

I dubiously move to the edge of the room, grateful the jumping mutt can't see me. His slobbery tongue is hanging out of his mouth in ecstasy as Dale rubs behind his ears. All of a sudden the dog's nose twitches and springs into the air, sniffing loudly.

"What is it, boy?"

The dog hunches down and starts sniffing the carpet, weaving its way across the room until it's at my feet.

"Wh-what are you doing?" I yell at the dog.

He sniffs around my ankles then starts working his way up my legs until his nose is in my crotch.

"GET out of there!" I try to slap the dog away. "Dale! A little help!"

"Wow." Dale stands back in awe. "That's amazing."

I try to wiggle away from the dog. "What's amazing? The fact your stupid dog can't stop sniffing my crotch?"

"Jess, come here, boy." Dale slaps his thigh. "Jester. C'mere."

After a few more requests, spurted out between bursts of laughter, Dale's dog finally does as he's told.

I brush off my jeans with a shaky hand and raise my body with as much dignity as I can.

"Sorry about that." Dale simpers.

"I'm sure you are." I cross my arms.

"It's pretty amazing that he can sense you though. I wonder why."

"Look, who knows. Just keep him out of my crotch, okay."

"Yes, ma'am." Dale nods, fighting to keep his lips from popping back into a smile.

Rolling my eyes, I relent with a small smile he can't see. Stepping closer, I hold out my hand and let Jester sniff my fingertips. He starts licking air. This is too bizarre.

"I don't understand how he can sense me."

"Life's mysterious."

"That's your answer?"

Dale shrugs.

"Sometimes we just have to accept the fact we can't explain everything. Life happens, whether we want it to or not and we don't always have a reason why. Our job is to try and make some good come out of it."

I have a feeling he's referring to Jody, so I clear my throat and change the subject.

"Why'd you call him Jester?"

Kneeling down, Dale gives his dog another rub behind the ears.

"At the time I got him, he was the only thing that could make me laugh. Jester seemed the perfect name."

"What happened to you?"

Dale gives his dog a final pat and stands.

"Is it to do with your scar?"

He doesn't look at me.

"Is the knife fight rumor true?"

Dale grins.

"Falling through a glass door? Cycling accident? How about the one where you're surfing on a reef?"

He gives me a pitiful look.

"Okay, fine just tell me then. How'd you get the scar?"

Shaking his head, he turns to his desk and starts rifling through some pages.

"Come on. You know all about my past."

"Do I?" He turns.

I scowl at his open expression then look to the ground.

"Okay, fine, don't tell me." I look up with a sniff. "I don't care anyway."

"Dale! Dinner's ready!"

He shoots me one last disbelieving look before walking out the door.

I stomp down the stairs behind him, annoyed he's being so secretive. It's so completely unfair. Thanks to his interrogation of Adam, he now knows about Jody. The least he can do is tell me why he looks like Frankenstein.

I wince; glad I'm not talking out loud.

Dale takes a seat at the table, opposite his parents. His Dad gives him a friendly smile and asks how he's doing. They share a quick joke I don't understand then hold hands and say grace.

Holding hands around the table? Awkward.

"Amen," they all say in unison then smile at each other.

Dude, we're like five shy of the Brady Bunch here.

I lean against the wall and watch as Dale's Dad, what's his name again?

"Charles, can you pass the pepper please?"

That's right.

He hands his wife – Mary? Yeah, I think it's Mary – the pepper and gives her a private smile. Man, they look so in love it's sickening. I mean, ewww. How old are these people?

I ignore the thought that my parents used to look at each other that way and instead return my attention to the fact Dale is being a stubborn ass. I can't believe he doesn't trust me. After all we've been through today.

I cross my arms and shoot him a few death glares, but he's oblivious.

"So, Dale, how are you getting on with Mr. Moffat?"

"Yeah, okay." Dale nods.

"Okay? I was sitting next to you for half the class and you didn't take one note," I call across the room.

Dale's shoulders tense and he shoots his parents a close mouthed smile. My eyes narrow. Stepping towards the table, I decide to play the bitch everyone knows me for.

Squatting down beside the Finnigans, I do my best to throw a squirm jamboree for my untrusting companion.

"Actually Mr. and Mrs. Finningan, your son is probably failing physics."

Dale shovels a fork full of rice into his mouth and glares in the direction of my voice.

"I wouldn't be surprised if he gets a big, fat F on his transcript." I grimace. "Not so great for college apps, am I right?"

Leaning forward, Dale clears his throat and shuffles in his chair.

"If I were you, I'd be asking to see his school work, because if the amount of notes he took today were anything to go by, he might not be doing so well in other areas either."

The fork drops from Dale's hand and in spite of the fact he can't see me, he manages to aim a black glare right in my direction.