Life in the No-Dating Zone (25 page)

“Now you’re telling me you want to forget about us before we’ve had a chance to even really get started?”

“I don’t want to.”

She sounded so upset I had to tuck my hands under my legs so I wouldn’t try to hug her. Why bother? It hadn’t worked earlier. I wanted to stomp off like a five-year-old, but lugging a cooler would ruin the effect. Besides, I couldn’t exactly rip the blanket out from under her.

Chewing on her lower lip, she stared across the park. The tightness in my chest loosened. Not a lot, but enough that I gave it one more try. “Claire.” I waited until she looked at me. “This is gonna sound like I think I know it all, but your parents’ marriage isn’t about you. It’s about them.”

“Doesn’t feel that way.”

“I know.” I took her hand in both of mine. “We can work through this. I know we can.”

“I don’t think so,” she whispered.

The whisper made everything worse. The personal sound of it. Usually used for saying good things, sweet things, it sliced into me, taking a chunk out of my chest.

I let go of her hand and we both stood. “Can we still be friends?” she asked.

Friends?
You mean where we hang out and talk and laugh and I don’t fantasize about kissing you every three minutes?
Sure, that would work. “Yeah, whatever.”

“I’m sorry, Gray. I really am.”

I couldn’t find a single thing to say. After a long pause where it seemed like neither of us was breathing, she turned and walked up the hill toward the parking lot. I watched until her car disappeared from sight.

Forty-Four

Claire

The first knock on my bedroom door was my mom saying dinner was ready. I told her I didn’t feel like eating. From the set look to her mouth I could tell she knew it had something to do with Gray. But the fish was cooling off, and if there’s one thing my mom hates, it’s seeing the result of her labor grow cold. She left me in peace.

Now, two hours and six LEGO models later, a knock sounded once and the door burst open. Lindsey and Rose stood on the threshold looking like they expected me to be in bed clutching Henrietta pig against my stomach. I had been earlier, but they didn’t need to know that.

I swiveled my desk chair around, still holding LEGO pieces between my fingers. “Geez, y’all! I could’ve been naked.”

“We’ve seen you naked before,” Lindsey said.

“No you haven’t.”

She flopped onto my bed. “Close enough.”

Rose shut the door. “Oh my gosh.” She scanned the room, no doubt taking in the LEGO models on every available surface. “Your mother was right. There
is
something wrong. How many of these things have you done today?”

I swallowed hard. “What did she say to you?”

Rose came over and leaned against the corner of my desk. “That you canceled your babysitting job and have been holed up in here since this morning.”

“So spill it,” Lindsey said. “What’s got you in hyper LEGO mode?”

I set the green building pieces on my desk. No need to tell them I didn’t
want
to be in my room. I’d wanted to put the sets together in the sunroom, but staring out at the tree where I’d first kissed Gray might just kill me. “Just felt like it.”

Lindsey snorted. “Liar.”

“Is it Gray?” Rose asked, her voice gentle.

I gripped the jewel stone of my necklace in one hand, resting it against the ache in my chest.
Do not break down. Think about this as if it happened to some other girl.
“Why would you say that?”

“Because I saw him at the Y yesterday. He left in a hurry, really wanting to talk to you.”

“Aaannd,” Lindsey said, “you ran away from him last night.”

“I needed to get home.”

She scooted to the edge of the bed. “Speaking of which, you left without explaining what y’all were doing at my house.”

“Not now, Lindsey,” Rose said.

Of course Lindsey ignored her. “And you can forget about that whole prank thing. I know you. You’re not the pranking type.”

I focused on sorting the pieces of my Big Ben clock tower model. Better than looking at Lindsey.

“Let’s talk about that later,” Rose said, which I was grateful for, but it only delayed the inevitable.

“No,” Lindsey said. “Let’s do it now. I want everything out in the open. It was part of our group vow—to always be honest with each other. You have to tell me.”

She was right. If her friendship meant anything to me, I had to tell her. But there was a strong chance it could end that friendship. With my elbows on the desk, I ran my hands into my hair and pulled. “You’re gonna hate me.”

Rose left my side. The bed creaked. “She has to tell you, Lindsey, but maybe now isn’t the best time.”

What did it matter? She was going to hate me anyway. I might as well get it over with. I got up. “Never mind, Rose. I’ll tell you why.”

They both looked so grim that I couldn’t face them. I paced as I told the story. About how Gray had asked for advice. About how I decided to help him after they’d canceled our movie night to have dinner with their boyfriends. Which made our group vow completely useless. Lindsey made a noise like she was about to interrupt, but Rose laid a hand on her forearm.

It wasn’t as hard as I thought. The more I talked, the more stuff came pouring out, the better I felt. Sure Lindsey would be royally pissed. But putting it into words felt like I was washing off weeks of dirt and grime.

“So Gray liked me, but now he doesn’t,” Lindsey said. “Which makes it even more weird y’all were at my house last night.”

“Let her finish,” Rose said.

I forced myself to stand still. Look Lindsey in the eye. “I’d already planned for him to do that back when he liked you. I asked him to do it anyway, because I was hoping it would make you and Adam”—my voice dropped to whisper—“break up.”

Lindsey’s beautiful face turned a shade of red that clashed with her hair. “What?” She let out a harsh laugh. “As if Gray Langley mumbling outside my window would make me give up Adam.”

Just like the night before, I found myself wanting to defend Gray, but I forced myself to keep going. “No. I didn’t think that. I thought that when rumors started up at school about it y’all would fight and maybe all his cheating stuff would finally come out and that would end it.”

“Oh, Claire,” Rose said in a rough whisper.

The red in Lindsey’s cheeks bled away. She stood up as though her legs didn’t work right. “You’d do that. To me?”

My throat burned. Tears filled my eyes, making Lindsey’s image waver. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to. It’s just that, he’s really mean … and with him gone, maybe you’d take the vow thing more seriously.”

“You and your stupid vows,” Lindsey said. “I don’t see you taking the friendship one seriously. A real friend would never try to break up somebody’s relationship.”

Okay, conveniently ignore the Adam being mean part, why don’t you?
“Well, you dissed the vow completely. Whenever Adam called, you’d drop whatever we planned to spend time with him.”

“Forget the vows! I don’t care anymore.” She grabbed her purse off my bed, then stalked to the door.

Rose stood. “Lindsey, wait.”

Lindsey wheeled around and glared at me. “You just don’t get what it’s like to have a guy in your life who really understands you, who loves you, who wants to spend time with you.”

The pain of my last conversation with Gray rushed back in like floodwaters trying to drown me. I grabbed on to the back of my desk chair.

Lindsey sucked in a loud breath. “No, wait, I can see it on your face. You
do
know what it’s like. You and Gray started something last night, but you must’ve hit him with that no-dating crap and now you’re all sad.” The last word came out dripping with the sarcasm Lindsey only used on her worst enemies. “And instead of having the guts to talk to your parents about the real reason for your vow, you hide in your room and play with your toys.” She shook her head. “I’m done here.” She ripped open the door and left.

“Lindsey!” Rose called, but all we heard was footsteps pounding down the stairs.

I held my breath, waiting for Rose to choose sides. Was I about to lose two friends instead of just one?

She pulled her gaze away from the door and gave me a quick hug. “It’ll be okay. It will. I’ll call you.” She raced out the door after Lindsey.

I exhaled. Typical diplomatic Rose. The front door banged shut. The reality of what I’d done hit me with just as loud a bang and I sank to the floor. Why did everything have to be so hard? I wanted it to be simple. I wanted friends who cared. I wanted to go through high school without huge boyfriend drama. Apparently I’d failed.

I leaned against my closet door, my knees drawn up, my fist pressing the necklace jewel into my chest. I let the tears fall. The whole thing sucked. I just had no idea what I was going to do about it.

Forty-Five

Gray

My brother Marcus wrapped his skinny little arms around my waist trying to tackle me. It wouldn’t work, but acting like it could was all part of football among the Langley men. I lurched across the lawn, dragging Marcus along, then twisted and tossed the ball to my dad.

“Wait!” Marcus squealed. “You can’t do that! I had you down.”

I fell to my knees in the grass. “Too late. Dad has the ball now.”

We both looked to where Travis, his red hair gleaming in the slanting evening sun, jumped up and down, trying to knock the ball loose from Dad’s hands.

“You’d better go help Tra—”

“Yaaahhhh!” Marcus yelled, racing to join the attack.

I wiped sweaty forehead with my T-shirt sleeve, then headed to the table on the deck where I’d left my water. I drank and watched the battle, not really seeing it. The image of Claire’s car driving away blocked out everything else. I gave my head a quick shake. If I didn’t stop this, there’d be parental questions. There’d already been enough of those over my black eye. And I didn’t want to answer any more questions.

I had no answers.

My dad hit the grass with Travis and Marcus swarming over him. “Check the steaks, Grayson,” he called.

I lifted the lid of the grill. Four huge sirloins sizzled, releasing the stomach-rumbling smell of cooking beef and my dad’s peppery marinade. For a few seconds I breathed it all in, trying to fill my senses with something that might clear the fog from my head. But it was like I had some sort of armor on—a shield against any outside stimuli—that kept me from thinking straight.

Just to do something, I grabbed the tongs and flipped the steaks. Smoke blew up as the juices hit the coals. I waved the smoke away and shut the lid carefully so it wouldn’t bang.
That’s it. Focus. Focus on ordinary things. On all the little details.
Maybe then I could ignore the heavy aching pressure that sat on my chest making it impossible to inflate my lungs all the way. But hey, breathing was overrated, right?

“How do they look?” Dad said, walking over. The boys were now throwing the football to each other. Maybe
at
each other would be a better description.

“Like steaks,” I said, then eased into one of the Adirondack chairs.

After a long swig of his iced tea, he stared at me. It was one of those decision-making looks I’d seen on him a million times. As if he wanted to ask if everything was all right, but didn’t want to be nosy. And I appreciated that about my dad, because half the time, he didn’t ask. So I figured I’d help him out. I watched my brothers instead.

My dad fiddled with the steaks for a few minutes, then sat in the chair next to me. “So … girl trouble, huh?”

I’d picked a bad time to drink more water. I practically spewed. But I managed to swallow and coughed to clear my throat. “What makes you say that?”

He kept his gaze on the boys. “You’ve got the look.”

“What look?” I could’ve kicked myself. But the words just slipped out. Now I’d started a conversation I didn’t want to have.

“The ‘why did you have to flush my goldfish down the toilet?’ look.”

“I do not. But speaking of goldfish, we should get a couple. The boys would like that.”

Dad smiled into the distance. “Nice try.” He leaned toward me. “So who is it? The Stalker, the Drama Queen, or Yoda?”

My water cup slid out of my hand and onto the deck.
What the hell?
“Did Berger say something? I’m gonna kill him.”

“No.”

“Then you eavesdropped. Uncool, Dad.”

I started to get up, but he grabbed my arm. “Hang on. I didn’t do it intentionally. Not at first, anyway. I’d gone upstairs to check on your screaming brothers, and on the way back down I heard Trey talking. It sounded like he was telling a funny story, so I listened.”

Perfect
. My gut swirled. How much had he heard? “You shouldn’t have.”

“I know.”

“That’s it? You’re not even going to apologize?”

He went to the grill and lifted the lid, but lowered it right away. “Look, I’m sorry I listened. It wasn’t the right thing to do. But I’m not sorry I understand more about what you’re going through.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That’s fine.”

He stopped talking, but the air felt heavy with stuff he still wanted to say. I wasn’t safe yet. I picked up my cup, staring at the spilt water beading up on the deck. I flicked one bead into a crack and it disappeared. I wished I could.

“Hey, Dad,” Travis yelled, “did you see that one?”

“Yeah, buddy,” Dad called. “Good throw.”

“I can do it, too,” Marcus said.

My father focused on me. “If I could give you one piece of advice—”

Here it comes
…

—it would be to not give up.”

What?
I wanted to throw something. My grip tightened on my cup.
She broke up with me! After less than twelve freaking hours!

My dad kept talking. “Because you have a tendency to withdraw when things don’t go well with people.”

“What’re you talking about?”

He frowned. “In fact, you’re a little like your mother in that respect.”