Trouble With Liberty (2 page)

Cody was driving. I glanced up to see him staring at Liberty in the rearview mirror. Talk about a lovesick cow!

“
Moooooooo!
” I let out a long mournful bellow.

Cody didn't even hear me. He just kept staring.

“Hey!” I tried again. “You behind the wheel! You think maybe you might want to watch the road for a while?”

This time I got through, and Cody's cheeks turned into two squashed tomatoes.

“For your information, Miss Know-It-All,” he retorted, looking away, “a driver has to be aware of what's happening behind the vehicle as well as in front of it.”

“Oh, please!” I sneered. “You want me to believe you were looking out the back window?
As if!
”

“Valerie Gail MacQueen, that's enough,”
Mom cut short the argument. “Nobody likes a backseat driver.”

I could see Cody laughing at me in the rear-view mirror. I was dying to give him a piece of my mind, but Mom had used every one of my names, so I knew she wasn't kidding around. I sent Cody a
this-isn't-over-so-don't-think-you'vewon
glare and slouched back on the seat.

“I really appreciate the ride, Mrs. Mac-Queen,” Liberty said to fill the suddenly dead air in the car. “The thought of getting on a bus full of kids I've never met is kind of scary.”

Mom smiled. “You're very welcome, Liberty. It's perfectly natural to be a bit anxious your first day. But trust me — you're going to be fine. By four o'clock you'll have made so many friends you'll wonder why you ever worried about it.”

Mom sure knew what she was talking about — except that it didn't take until four o'clock. By the time the school bus dropped off the last kids, Liberty was in the middle of the action. If there'd been a vote for the most popular girl, she would have won hands down.

In a weird way I was proud about that. Not
that I was responsible for the other kids liking her, but since I was the one who'd introduced her to everybody, I felt like she was my own personal discovery. I know that's dumb, but it's how I felt.

As I watched the group around her growing, I kept one eye on the bus. I wanted to see Ryan as soon as he got off. Since our first day of grade one, when he stuck his tongue out at me and I clobbered him with my Barbie lunch kit, we have been the best of buds. Last year I even started thinking I liked him as a boyfriend, but the feeling passed in a couple of weeks. Luckily I hadn't let Ryan know.

“Ryan!” I yelled, jumping up and down so he'd see me through the crowd. “Over here.”

He waved back and gradually talked his way towards me.

“Hey, stranger,” I grinned, giving him a hug.

“No stranger than you,” he grinned back. “So how was your summer? Did you get married?”

I shook my head and made a face.

“Join a rock band?”

“No time. I was too busy being my mother's slave. What about you? How was California?”

He shrugged. “Fine. But being chased by
beach bunnies and hot young starlets gets boring after a while.”

“Yeah, right!” I groaned. “Seriously, what did you — ”

“Ryan!” Matt Bryson, Jeremy Swailes, Sean Abernathy and a bunch of other guys pushed through the kids surrounding Liberty. “Hey, man, long time no see. How ya doin'?” They swarmed past me like I was invisible, and before I knew it, I was staring at a wall of backs.

I looked around, assessing the situation. On my left, a circle of kids was gathered around Ryan, and on my right there was another circle buzzing around Liberty.

And I was all by myself.

“How rude,” I muttered. The situation definitely called for a change. I pushed my way through the guys and grabbed Ryan's hand.

“Come on,” I said, “I want you to meet someone.”

I phoned Ryan as soon as I got home from school. After I'd introduced him to Liberty, he'd suddenly disappeared. I hadn't had another chance to talk to him all day.

“What do you think?” I pounced as soon as he picked up the phone. I could hear him suck in his breath.

“Well …” He stretched the word out as far as it would go. “I think math is going to be really tough this year. I also think the seats on the
bus need some padding. I think I like raspberry yogurt better than peach, and I –”

“Ryan!” I cut him off. “That's not what I mean, and you know it. What do you think of Liberty?”

He purposely misinterpreted that question too. “I think every person has the right to liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”

“Ryan!” I was getting exasperated. “Stop kidding around. What do you think of Liberty Hayes?”

“I don't.”

“What do you mean — you don't?”

“I don't think about her.”

I growled through my teeth. “Why are you being so difficult?”

“I'm not,” he growled back. “You asked me a question, and I answered it — honestly. I don't think about her. Why should I? She's already got half the guys in the school drooling over her. She doesn't need me too.”

I was totally stunned. This wasn't the reaction I'd expected at all. Ryan was acting like a horse with a burr under its saddle. The question was
why
?

“I thought you'd like Liberty,” I said.

“Why?”

“Why not?” I shot back.

He let out a long sigh. “I'm just not into those kinds of games.”

Now he'd lost me completely. “What games? Ryan, what are you talking about?”

He sighed again. “Nothing. Just forget it.”

And that was the end of that. No matter how many times I asked, he refused to say another word on the subject.

Wonderful!
Ryan and Liberty were both my friends. All I wanted was for them to be friends with each other. But from the way Ryan was acting, you'd think I was asking him to dive into a swimming pool of piranhas. Hopefully Liberty was more open-minded.

“So, how do you like school so far?” I asked her as the two of us wandered the aisles of McCormack's Drugstore the following Saturday.

She picked up a bottle of cologne, sprayed it into the air and then wrinkled her nose at the smell.

“It's okay,” she said, trying to wave away the sickly sweet cloud hanging above her head. “I'd like it better if there were no classes.”

“Who wouldn't?”

“But otherwise it's good,” she said. “The kids seem nice.”

That was the opening I'd been waiting for.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “They are. Take Ryan Wilson, for instance. No matter how grumpy I am, he can always make me laugh. He's so funny.”

Liberty was poking through the lipstick testers. “Yeah — hilarious,” she mumbled. It was clear she didn't think he was funny at all.

My back stiffened. “Obviously you don't like him,” I snapped.

Liberty looked startled. “I never said that.”

“You didn't have to,” I scowled. I turned away and pulled the cap off a tube of Orange Sherbet lipstick.

I could feel Liberty staring at me.

“What's the big deal?” she said. “Are you trying to match me up with him or something?”

“Of course not!” I retorted.

“Well, then why do you care if I like him?”

I shrugged, suddenly feeling stupid.

To my surprise, Liberty laughed. “Don't have a cow then. I don't have anything against Ryan. I don't want him for a boyfriend, but otherwise he's fine.”

It wasn't exactly the response I was hoping for, but it was more encouraging than Ryan's had been. I sighed and went back to picking through the lipsticks.

“Here's one,” I said, turning the tube upside down. “Frosty Flirty Flip. How's that for a name?” I held it up to Liberty. “I bet this would look really good on you.”

Liberty rubbed some onto the inside of her wrist and looked at it.

“It's not bad,” she said. “I could wear it with the new blouse my dad brought me from New York.”

“Good idea,” I grinned. “Wear it to school on Monday and see if you can catch Cody's attention.”

An impish gleam lit up Liberty's eyes. “Oh, it would catch his attention all right. His and the principal's too.”

I giggled. “Ooh, that kind of a blouse, eh? A little too sexy for math?”

Liberty grinned. “Math and every other class.” She paused and a dreamy look came over her face. “Except maybe for band.”

“Hello?” Liberty was obviously hinting at something, but I had no idea what.

“Oh, come on, Val. Don't play dumb.”

I frowned and shook my head. “Who's playing? I have no idea what you're talking about.”

She rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. “The band teacher? Mr. Henderson? The guy is a total hunk! Don't tell me you haven't noticed.”

“Are you serious?” I sputtered. “He might be good-looking, but he's also like thirty years old.
And
he's married. He's got a kid.”

Liberty shrugged. She pouted at the mirror on the sunglass stand and rolled some Frosty Flirty Flip onto her lips.

“You're right,” she said, admiring the effect. “This lipstick does look good on me. And you know what?”

I shook my head.

“I bet Mr. Henderson would look good on me too.”

My mouth dropped open, but the only thing that came out of it was a squeak.

That did it for Liberty. She keeled over laughing. “Kidding!” she said, between guffaws. “I was teasing. Val MacQueen, you are so gullible.”

Somehow I managed to close my mouth again and trailed after Liberty to the hair color aisle.

“You're not going to dye your hair, are you?” I asked in horror. Liberty was a natural blonde, and there seemed something immoral about messing with that.

“No,” she murmured absently as she picked up one of the boxes and began reading the back. Then she added, “We're going to color yours.”

Once again my mouth dropped open. Then I took a step backwards and put up my hands. “Oh, no we're not. My mother will kill me if I come home with blue or green hair.”

“Don't be silly.” She rolled her eyes. “We're not going to
change
your color. We're just going to liven it up a little.”

“Liven it how?” I asked suspiciously, still keeping my distance.

“With highlights,” she beamed. “You want to look gorgeous for my party, don't you?”

This was news to me. “What party?”

Liberty smiled smugly. “The one I'm going to throw next weekend so I can wear my new blouse and get to know Cody better. I like the strong silent type, but your brother is a little too silent. I think he could use a push. And a party is just the thing. We can invite Joel and Marissa, Shelly, Matt Bryson, Melanie Shepherd, Sarah
Shaw, Jeremy, Sean Abernathy, and that guy in our English class with the pierced eyebrow. What's his name?”

“Kevin Halloran.”

“Right,” she nodded. “Also Wanda Watts, Chelsea and her boyfriend, and Sue and … you and Cody, of course.” She pursed her mouth in concentration. “Who else?”

“Ryan?” I said.

Liberty slapped her forehead. “Right. Ryan. How could I forget him?”

Cody convinced Dad to let him use the truck Friday night. It's not exactly a limousine, but there are seatbelts for three people, so I figured we could give Ryan a ride too. Since I'd been hanging out with Liberty, I'd barely seen him. This would give us a chance to catch up.

“Okay,” Cody conceded grudgingly. For some reason he seemed to think potential passengers required his approval. “Tell him we'll
pick him up at eight. But he better be ready. I don't want to wait around.”

As it turned out, that wasn't a problem. Ryan didn't need a ride. He wasn't going to Liberty's party.

“What do you mean — you're not going? Everybody's going.”

“Then you won't miss me,” he said, stuffing some books into his locker.

Suddenly I had an uncomfortable thought. “You
were
invited, weren't you?”

He nodded. “More or less.”

“What does that mean?”

Ryan grabbed his jacket and slammed the locker shut. “Look, Val,” he said impatiently, “Liberty may have invited me, but she doesn't really want me there. And I wouldn't have a good time. I'm not going.”

“How can you say that? All your friends will be there.”

He shook his head. “Don't you mean all
Liberty's
friends?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off.

“I'd love to stay and argue with you some more, but I'm going to miss my bus. See ya Monday.”

And before I could even say good-bye, he bolted down the hall.

Cody and I were the first ones at the party. Liberty told us to come early so we could help with the last-minute preparations, but I think she just wanted Cody to see her New York blouse before everyone else did.

Actually,
not
see it was more like it. The blouse had long sleeves and buttoned all the way to the neck. But — except for some strategically placed embroidered flowers — it was totally sheer. And Liberty wasn't wearing a bra!

I'm not saying she didn't look great. She did. Judging from the way Cody's eyes bugged out, he thought so too. It's just that the blouse was a little too New York for Sutter's Crossing. I know I wouldn't have had the nerve to wear it. And even if I had, my parents would never have let me out of my room.

Which is why I was having trouble understanding how Liberty's father could have bought it for her, and how her mother could let her wear it. Of course that was assuming her mom and dad thought the same way mine did. But the truth is that until that night I hadn't met either of Liberty's parents, so I had no idea how their minds worked.

Liberty's dad was out of town, so it was just Mrs. Hayes chaperoning. If you call supervising from another part of the house chaperoning. Not that she wanted to spend the evening in her bedroom. That was Liberty's idea. She told her mother point-blank to stay away from the party. I heard her with my own ears.