Blue Eyes and Other Teenage Hazards (11 page)

The night my tongue slipped up, Elise had come over to my house so she could copy some of my biology notes. Our teacher let us have one handwritten page of notes during our tests, so Elise was copying down things she’d missed when she had skipped out of class.

While she wrote out the names and functions of cell parts, she kept looking at my bedroom. “Your furniture all matches,” she said. “You were one of those girls who got a canopy bed when you were little, weren’t you? I bet your parents bought you everything you wanted.” I was sitting on my bed with my laptop, finishing off my English assignment. “There’s a flip side to having matching furniture. If you think you have no privacy with your brothers and sisters, you should try living with just your parents. They want to know what I’m doing every second of the day.”

“They care.”

“They’ve poured all their parenting efforts into one person. Me. If I get a B on my homework instead of an A, they want to know why. If I bite my nails, they notice. When I come home from school and they ask, “What did you do today?” they really want to know. They want a synopsis of my life every single day. Sometimes it’s smothering.”

“But at least they know who you are.”

I kept tapping out my English assignment. “They worry about me all the time. Their guilt trips are horrendous. If I let them down, they don’t have anyone else. If I said to them, ‘I’m not going to college. I want to be a traveling street performer,’ they’d die.”

“My parents would pack my bags.”

“They constantly embarrass me,” I went on. “Every time Josh has come over, my parents have hovered around and then grilled me about it as soon as he left.”

Elise looked up from her notes. “Josh has come over? Why?”

Why was right. Why didn’t I know when to keep my mouth shut? I couldn’t tell Elise he had come over to talk about her—that he’d asked me to be her friend.

“Um . . .” I felt myself blush. “He came over . . . a long time ago . . . because I left things in your car. My sweater . . . and my cell phone.” Elise contemplated this. “Why didn’t he give them to you the next day?”

“I don’t know.”

“And why are you blushing?” She raised her eyebrows in question. “Is something going on between you and Josh?” I was trapped. I took the only way out I could think of. “Um, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Well, okay, yes.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“We want to keep it a secret.”

“Why?”

I felt like a living object lesson about the perils of lying. I knew I had dug a hole for myself, and I knew it was getting deeper. But I couldn’t get out of it now. I had to keep digging.

“Because of my parents. It’s like I told you. They’re overwhelming when it comes to guys. They’d be all over my case if they thought I was . . .

getting too serious.”

“How serious are you?”

The shovel kept hitting the dirt. “Not very, but my parents would start an inquisition if they knew I’d been out with him more than a few times.

We’ve had to be, you know, discreet.”

Elise blinked, incredulous. “You could have at least told me.”

“I wanted to, but we decided it would be safer if no one knew. Besides, I think he’s touchy about dating a sophomore.” That part at least was true.

Elise grunted. “Josh thinks I’d tell someone, doesn’t he?”

“He never said that. But he did seem determined not to tell you. In fact, I bet if you confronted him right now, he’d deny it.” I cleared my throat uncomfortably. “You won’t confront him, will you?”

“Not if you don’t want me too.”

“Good. He’d be mad at me if he knew I told you.”

Elise shook her head. “And to think of all the grief I’ve gone through over Chad. I thought you still liked him. Every time I was with him and saw you, I felt bad. You could have at least told me you were okay about it.”

“I did,” I reminded her. “I talked to you right after you started dating Chad.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you meant any of those things. I thought you were just being nice.” She laughed a little. “I should have known something was going on. Those looks you two always exchange on the way to school, and Josh not dating anyone—then he expects me to believe it’s the dog’s fault.”

“Remember, you don’t know anything about this.”

She put her hand up. “I know how to keep a secret.”

* * *

“Yeah,” I said. “But I still have to finish my algebra homework.”

“Josh could help you,” she said shooting him a sly look. “He’s good with story problems.” The way she said “story problems” made them sound like something vaguely suggestive.

I glared at Elise, then casually said, “I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out.” Elise smiled knowingly. “I think Cassidy needs your help, Josh. Tell him you need him, Cassidy.”

“I can do them on my own,” I insisted, my voice higher than it should be.

Josh gave me a peculiar look.

I opened my backpack and sifted through it, pretending to search for something so I didn’t have to look at him.

When Josh branched off from us, I gave Elise a death glare. “You’re great at keeping secrets. I’m sure he didn’t suspect a thing.” I knew then that I would have to tell Josh what I’d done—and soon.

All day I worried that Josh would ask Elise what her innuendo meant and that she would tell him what I’d said. Then not only would he think I was some delusional stalker, but Elise would find out I was a liar.

This could end badly in so many ways.

Elise didn’t ride home with us that afternoon, which meant I had the perfect opportunity to explain to Josh what I’d done. I couldn’t force myself to bring it up, though, and we talked about miscel aneous things until he pulled up to my house. There just aren’t a lot of good ways to tell a guy that you and he are secretly an item. What if he was angry?

I picked up my backpack from off the floor, but didn’t open the car door. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure. What about?”

I didn’t answer, just bit my lip.

Josh looked at me more closely, then turned off the car. He sighed. “What’s Elise done now?”

“Nothing. It’s what I’ve done.”

He waited for me to continue.

I shifted on my seat uncomfortably. “Well, it happened like this.” I took a deep breath and launched in. “I was having this talk with Elise about parents and what a pain they can be, and I accidentally told her about the times you came over to my house, and then of course she wanted to know why you came over, and I couldn’t think of anything . . .” I glanced at Josh to see how he was taking this.

His expression was blank.

“I mean, it was one of those situations where your mind doesn’t work. So I told her you came over because you . . . you know . . . liked me.” He pressed his lips together, like he was trying to stop himself from smiling.

“I told her we wanted to keep it a secret, so I don’t think she’ll say anything to anybody, but I had to tell you before she mentioned it to you.” He abandoned his attempts and smiled broadly.

I guess I should have been glad he wasn’t angry, but all his mirth was beginning to grate on me. It was as if the very idea that he could like me was laughable to him.

I fingered my backpack strap nervously. “I’ll understand if you’d like to break off this mad, impulsive affair we’ve shared.” He kept smiling, but stayed quiet.

“Aren’t you going to say something?”

“Yes. How did I get into a conversation about your parents being a pain?”

“Oh, that. Well . . . uh . . .” I hadn’t prepared this part of my speech and didn’t know what to say. “My parents still think of me as a thirteen-year-old, so when you came over . . .” I stopped. I had talked myself into a corner. When you came over—what? When you came over my parents jumped to the conclusion that you were smitten with me, even though I’m an unsophisticated sophomore in whom you obviously don’t have the slightest degree of interest?

But I didn’t have to say anything else. He knew what had happened. He nodded. “Now I know why your dad grits his teeth when he sees me.”

“I’m sorry. Really. I’ll do whatever you want to about it, but if it’s all the same to you, can we maybe not end this right away? I don’t want to tell Elise we broke up when I just told her yesterday we were going out. I don’t want it to seem like a fling.”

“Of course not. No flings for us.” He smirked at me. “Darling.”

“Thanks,” I said, and got out of the car.

* * *

On Friday instead of meeting at the school like the chess club usually did, we were all going to go to Bob’s house to work on the annual fundraiser. This year we were hand painting ceramic chess pieces blue and gray, the PHS school colors. The student body had ordered more than we expected, so Bob had called in some favors to get more people to help us paint. Josh was on that list because Bob had helped him on his computer program.

I’d planned on riding home with Josh and Elise and then driving over to Bob’s house. But while I walked to the parking lot, Bob caught up with me. We talked for a minute, then he said, “I can give you a ride, if you want.”

“All right,” I said. “Just let me tell Josh.”

We headed over to Josh’s car. He was sitting inside working on homework, but he looked up and opened the window when Bob and I walked up.

“I’m taking Cassidy with me,” Bob said.

“You don’t have to,” Josh said. “She always rides with me. I don’t mind taking her.”

“Neither do I.” Bob took out his cell phone and texted for a few seconds. “Since you have the room, though, I’m telling Jenny and Cameron you can take them.”

Josh smiled stiffly at him. “Okay. I’ll wait for them.”

I followed Bob to his car. He opened the door for me. Josh had never opened a door for me. I wondered if he was watching, but I didn’t look.

Bob and I made small talk on the way to his house. He asked what I’d been doing. I asked if he’d decided on a college yet.

“I’m considering Stanford,” he said. “It’s a top school, it’s got good weather, and it’s not too far away. The only drawback is that the tuition is astronomical.”

Maybe it was a loaded question, but I couldn’t help myself. “How’s their entomology department?”

“Pretty good.” That was his entire assessment.

I smiled. He had obviously taken Josh’s list of taboos seriously.

When we got to his house, I helped Bob set up the paints and boxes of chess pieces. While he filled up glasses of water, something on the counter caught my attention. It was a wooden tray covered by glass. Inside, pinned and labeled, were rows of butterflies. They were all different colors and sizes.

Bob saw me looking at them. “That’s part of my collection. I worked on it last night.”

“They’re pretty. Did you catch them all?”

“Most of them.”

“I’ve never looked at a butterfly close up. They’re so intricate.” Some of their wings shimmered like they’d been cut out of silk.

Bob came and stood behind me, then pointed at one. “That’s the monarch. They can migrate as much as 2,000 miles. Each winter they fly to warmer climates in orange and black swarms. I’ve seen pictures of them covering the trees in Mexico. It’s fantastic. Someday I’ll go see it myself.” He moved the box to reveal another tray underneath. This one had a bright turquoise butterfly in it. I’d never seen anything like it and wouldn’t have believed it was real if I hadn’t been staring at it. “This is a Narathura micale amphis, or the common oak blue.”

“If it’s common, how come I’ve never seen one before?”

“They live in Australia. One of my Dad’s friends works at the entomology department at Washington State University and got it for me.

Spectacular, huh?”

“It’s gorgeous,” I said, suddenly wishing I could touch it. “It makes me feel sad it’s dead.”

“Don’t worry. Entomologists only capture butterflies who are about to die of old age anyway. Then they give them lethal injections. It’s all quite humane.”

“Really?”

He laughed. “No.”

I blushed. “Well, how would I know how you do it? After that whole business of slave-making ants, I’ll believe anything.” And then I laughed myself because giving butterflies lethal injections did seem silly. “You mean you can’t tell how old a butterfly is by counting its rings?” I looked back at the trays. People at school had been seeing Bob differently ever since his make over. The girls at chess club flirted shamelessly with him. Even Faith and Caitlin had commented on his new hotness. But it wasn’t until that moment that I saw Bob differently. I saw him in Mexico surrounded by thousands of monarch butterflies, like petals in an orange and black field of flowers. I saw him in the outback of Australia, pushing his way through the overgrowth, searching for rarities. It all seemed exotic.

Bob leaned against the counter next to me. “If I promised not to hit you, would you like to go out again sometime?”

“Sure,” I said, hoping I wasn’t blushing again.

He smiled. “I’ll call you sometime.”

“All right.”

The doorbel rang and chess-club members began coming in. Josh showed up with Cameron and Jenny. Josh seemed tense and irritable all through our painting session. I told myself it was because he was jealous Bob had taken me in his car; jealous that Bob was sitting beside me talking to me while we painted. But I knew the chances were equally great that Josh was irritable because he had been stuck driving Cameron and Jenny here and was now sandwiched between them. Cameron felt compelled to crack a stupid joke every other minute, and Jenny always laughed at them.

When we were done, Josh offered to drive me home.

“If it’s out of your way,” Bob said, “I can give Cassidy a ride.”

Josh sent him an insincere smile. “It’s not out of my way.”

I had barely sat down in Josh’s car before he turned to me and asked, “What was that all about between you and Bob?”