Dating Trouble (Grover Beach Team Book 5) (13 page)

Fancy another chat after dark? ^^

Not tonight
, I texted back. Really, I wasn’t in the mood to talk to him right now, when my world had just shattered. Besides, temptation would be too great to ask him about the gay thing, and if I was wrong, I could never talk myself out of that situation. The only one who could set this straight for me was Ethan. And I wouldn’t ask him on the phone. Too much chaos resided in my mind right now. Tomorrow at school would have to do. It gave me some time to come up with the appropriate words, because “Ethan, are you gay?”
was hardly the right conversation starter.

But of course, another text came in.
Why not? I thought yester-night was nice with you. ;-)

Because you’re trouble of the kind I just don’t want to deal with right now.

Gee, why did I even bother to send that back to him? Chris should be so easy to ignore. And yet I couldn’t. He was a dick, goddammit!

My phone beeped again.
Aw, every girl loves a little trouble. And you shouldn’t hate what you haven’t sampled yet. You have no idea what you’re missing out on, sweetness.

The memory of Lauren coming out of his room and Chris lacing his fingers with hers resurfaced. In a way, it angered me. It was an odd sort of anger. A hint of hurt resonated inside me. That was too weird to analyze, so I just typed away the first thing that came to my mind.
Seriously, you’re like a sample bottle of perfume in a drugstore.

My phone rang.

I sucked in a deep breath through my teeth and let it out in a long exhale. Finally, I rolled my eyes and answered, but didn’t even get a word out.

“I’m
what
?” Chris snapped at me, half amused and half confused.

Since he hadn’t really greeted me, I didn’t bother to, either. “You know those cheap perfume bottles they put in stores for promotion? Every woman walking by sprays a little of that bland scent on her skin and in the end, they all smell alike. But not me. I’m very selective, Chris. I don’t have to sample everything that’s offered to me for free. And most of all, I don’t like
bland
.” I’d said what I wanted to and didn’t give him time for a comeback. “Good night.”

He didn’t ring again, like he had last night. Hopefully, he’d gotten the message this time. I turned off the light and snuggled deeper under the covers. Three minutes later, my cell beeped and the flashing screen illuminated my room with a shade of blue.

Wrapping my pillow tightly around my head, I screamed.

Why couldn’t he leave me alone? Just one night! Was that asking too much? I reached for the phone and took it with me under the cover, reading in my personal cave.

You think I’m boring? Ouch. That hurt, Miss Miller.

Was he boring? I didn’t think I’d used that word, and to be honest, Chris was anything but. He kept me on tenterhooks most of the time I was in a room with him and his stupid texts stirred me enough to answer every freaking time. So no, he was definitely not boring.

I said bland, not boring. There’s a difference. One means you make me fall asleep. The other means each time you open your mouth I want to go on an exploration and delve deeper to find out if there’s more inside that hollow shell.

His answer made me swallow and turned my body to a warm tingle.
You want to explore my mouth? Go ahead.

Chris, do you ever hear what I actually say?

Of course. Your last text said you wanted to kiss me.

Stupid as it was, it made me laugh. I came out of my cave, fluffed up my pillow, settled back, and typed:
Excuse me, I need to go bang my head on a wall now and get that image out of my mind.

That’s what they all say…before they beg me to date them… :)

Hah!
I’m not going to beg you to take me on a date.

*cough* I remember a certain someone begging me to cook for her on Saturday *cough*

That was—
Holy crap, it was true. I deleted the message I’d started to write and bit my lip. How did he always manage to construe my words to his benefit? Let’s see what he’d make of this:
You’re delusional.

A long pause. I thought it was over. Then another message beeped.

Yes, one of us is, definitely. Sleep tight, little Sue.

The serious sound of this final message and the time it took him to come up with a short answer like that made me wonder what he meant. Was it another jibe at me for being in love with his brother, who might not be interested in girls? Or was he just joking?

“Good night, Chris,” I mumbled, but didn’t send him another text. Heaving a deep sigh, I put my phone back on the nightstand and wrapped myself into the blanket.

Thank goodness, I’d slept so poorly the past few days that tonight, for once, I drifted off despite my troubles.

I even felt well-rested in the morning, and there was a certain order back in my mind.

One: find Ethan before first period. But I had no idea what classes he had in the morning, so I didn’t know where to start looking for him. Option two was to ask Chris for help when I saw him in the hallway.

His black eye came in handy for telling the twins apart. He was fist-bumping a guy whose face looked like a horse had trampled over it. Will Davis, I guessed, and from what I could see, the guys had reconciled. Probably for the best. Playing on a team with someone you couldn’t stand wasn’t the best idea.

I walked toward him, but a redhead beat me there, drawing his full attention to her…or rather to her ample chest, which was threatening to spring free of her black top any second. Chris smiled when she said something to him. I couldn’t hear what, because they were too far away, but when he put his arm around her shoulders and tugged her along as he came walking my way, all thoughts of talking to him evaporated. I didn’t even say hello when we passed each other and gritted my teeth at his “Good morning, sweetness.”

Go to hell, you bastard!

I don’t know why seeing him with this girl really pissed me off. Maybe because it reminded me that all his charming me was nothing but show. A show that he put on for any other girl at this school, too. Now if that didn’t make me feel a whole lot special today… I rolled my eyes, silently cursing him in all three of the languages I knew.

The morning passed a little faster when I tried to actually concentrate on my subjects, and before I knew it, I was sitting at our lunch table with Ethan opposite me. He greeted me with a reluctant smile which I returned.

And now what?

All the things I’d put together in my mind…I couldn’t throw them at him across the table with all the guys listening. That would be really shitty of me. My best bet was to hold him up after lunch and talk to him alone. Yep, a way better plan.

Cornering Ethan alone when everyone went back to their afternoon classes wasn’t a problem. In fact, all I had to do was stay put for another minute. He’d risen from his chair with the rest of them, but when he realized I was fixing him with a stare, he lowered again, lacing his fingers on the table.

“Susan?” Lisa shouted back at me, obviously unsure whether she should wait up or just give us some privacy.

“I’ll meet you in the locker room,” I told her. Gym was our next class, and no one would mind if I popped in a little late for that, since I was doomed to watch from the sidelines for a few more weeks anyway.

“What’s up?” Ethan asked me when our friends were gone. But there were still too many other students around to speak openly.

I cleared my throat and leaned forward, sucking in a breath, but stopped before any sound came out. Uncomfortably, I looked around and sighed. “We need to talk, Ethan.”

“Go ahead.” He didn’t look stressed one bit. Did he have a clue what I was going to confront him with? I doubted it.

With another glance around the cafeteria, I shook my head. “No, not here. Can we meet this afternoon?”

“Sure.” Now he did seem suspicious. “Want me to come to your place?”

Monday. Afternoon. Mom had two days off. Dad usually got home early on Mondays. No freaking way! “Uh, no. That’s not a good idea. Mind if I come to your house again?”

“Not at all. Pop around whenever you want.” He smiled and stood up when I did. “But one of these days you’ll have to show me your room, too.”

Maybe I would. But there were more important matters to get straightened first. “All right. I’ll see you later.” We separated at the double doors, and I headed off to my next period.

ETHAN’S HOUSE HAD never looked more terrifying than this afternoon, as I stood in front of it wondering if I should ring the bell or turn around and just pretend I never came up with this idea of him not being interested in girls.

On the way here, I’d pieced a speech together in my mind that went something like:
Ethan, you’ve become a really close friend to me over the past few days. I love hanging out with you and I especially love beating you at
FIFA
. Nothing would change that
—with emphasis on this particular line.
So if there’s anything you want to tell me, something you think may come between us, you should know that you can.

Hopefully that wouldn’t sound overly dramatic, but he needed to know that I could handle whatever it was. I would hate losing the chance to make him fall for me, but at this point, I’d rather know the truth. The end of my speech would go something along the lines of:
Is it possible that you’re not interested in me because I’m a girl?

Yes, that should be subtle enough. And if I was wrong, he could tell me so, kiss me to show he was serious, and help me name our future babies. Encouraging myself with a determined nod, I pressed down on the doorbell and listened to the monophonic rendition of the first line of
Ode to Joy
.

“It’s open!” one of the twins shouted from inside.

After I’d closed the door behind me, I called out, “Ethan?”

“In the living room!”

Heading there, I went through my speech once more, but broke off in the middle because the two lookalikes sat on the couch, concentrating on a chessboard on the coffee table between them. One was wearing a white polo shirt, the other the same shirt in black, and neither looked up when I came in, so I couldn’t see their faces. Ergo, I had no idea who was who.

“Hi, um…guys?” I stammered.

The one with the black shirt reached to the back of his neck and fished out a set of chains from under his collar, holding it up for me to see.
Yeah, thanks, Chris!

Ethan moved one of his figures across the chessboard, lifted his head and sent me a welcoming smile. “Hi, Susan.”

Waving at him in a greeting, I walked toward them and cast a look at the game, which sported glass figures, one side using frosty pieces, the other clear. From what I could see, Ethan was frosty. The clear queen had cornered the frosty king. If Chris moved his castle across the board to the far end now, he could checkmate Ethan, but he kept mulling with his chin in his hand, seemingly unable to come up with that move.

Leaning down, I grabbed the clear castle and set it in the right place. “Checkmate.”

“Hah!” Chris straightened with a grin, throwing out his hands in a there-you-go-I-won gesture. Clasping my wrist next, he pulled me onto his lap, squeezing me in an excited embrace. “That’s my girl!”

Too surprised to wriggle free at first, I squealed and laughed, one arm around his neck for balance. Now I could see his damaged face, too, the black eye turning bluish violet already.

Ethan, however, didn’t find the situation as funny as his brother. He widened his eyes at me. “Why did you do that?”

My mind sobered and I pushed away from Chris’s lap. “Because I need to talk to you. And it has to be now and not in twenty minutes.” The truth was I might back down if I didn’t get these damn things out in the next sixty seconds.

“Okay, talk in my room?”

I nodded and went ahead of him. As Ethan followed me, he warned Chris, “You did
not
win. We’re going to repeat this when you’ll be on your own. No cheating!”

Some serious anger resonated in his voice which made me wonder if this game was about more than just fun. Maybe there was a wager behind it? Ah, whatever. I couldn’t let chess distract me now. I was on a mission and had to get my subtle speech out before I changed my mind.

Ethan closed the door to his room and went to lean against the edge of his desk. “All right, what’s up?”

I sucked in a deep breath then folded my arms over my chest and blurted, “Are you gay, Charlie Brown?”

His chin dropped and he stared at me with eyes wide as saucers.

Yes…veeery subtle, Susan.

A multitude of thoughts must have raced through his mind, because they visibly flashed across his face, and one of them was certainly to kick me out of his house. But then the most unexpected thing happened. Ethan straightened, taking on a defensive stance, mirroring my crossed arms. His features became hard and his lips thinned for an infinitesimal moment. “So what if I am?” he snapped. “Would you run screaming from my house?”

“I, uh—no!”

“Would you be disgusted or make fun of me?”

“No! Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then what? Would you
pity
me?”

“Ethan! Stop that shit!” My arms loosened and I tipped back against the door, maybe for support because the truth was sinking in like a stone tossed into a lake. I’d been right. There was no chance for us. “I wouldn’t pity you. And why the hell would I be disgusted? If anything, I—I’m…” I raked nervous hands through my hair. This wasn't how it was supposed to go and it was my fault. Why couldn’t I stick with my original speech, dammit?

“You’re what?” he spat.

“I’m…sad.”

“Sad?” A vicious laugh escaped him. “That’s the same as pity.”

“No, you stupid dumbass!” I snapped. “It’s not because of you. I’m sad for
my
sake—
me
!” Oops. Maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words again. But what could I do? He was totally missing the point.

Ethan didn’t ease up, but he narrowed his eyes in a way that made me think he was curious about exactly
how
I was going to explain that.

Eyes closed, I took a deep breath and slid down the door with my back until I was sitting on the floor with my knees drawn to my chest. I looked up. He stood motionless, nailing me with the same hard stare. The wedge my blunt accusation had driven between us wouldn’t go away for a long time.

“Listen…” That was all that came out for now, followed by a heavy sigh. How could I put this into words that made sense?

“I’m waiting,” he said sharply.

Okay, okay. Pressuring much? Gah!
“This isn’t easy, Ethan. Would you please give me a second to sort my thoughts so I don’t blurt the first thing that comes to my mind again?” I kneaded my temples and found it easier if I didn’t look at his face. Focusing on my knees worked. “When we met that first day at soccer practice, it was weird. I liked you from the start. We seemed to have so much in common and all…” A pause to give me time and put together my next chunk of words. “I wasn’t prepared for…for the feelings I found myself having for you. You’re the first boy I’ve really been interested in and in the beginning, I thought you’d like me, too.”

“I did,” he stated. When that made me look at him with a somewhat hurt expression, he added in a softer tone, “I
do
.”

“So all this time, I was hoping that you were just shy and would sooner or later start to…I don’t know…show more interest? But it didn’t happen, and you kept me on tenterhooks wondering if you’d ever make a move.”

Ethan left the spot by the desk and came toward me. I traced his every move until he stood half a foot from me. After a slight hesitation, he lowered to sit right next to me, his legs bent and forearms resting on his knees. He didn’t look at me but at his fingernails. “The truth is, I kept myself wondering for a long time,” he mumbled.

A depressing silence followed, but I knew now wasn’t the right moment to say something. Finally, he swallowed hard and explained, “I suspected that something was different with me, when all my friends started to date those pretty girls and I just couldn’t make myself be interested in any of them. I mean, I didn’t avoid them. Two of my best friends in the past were girls.”

I couldn’t stop wondering if they’d felt for him what I did but he couldn’t return the feelings with them, either. Ethan must have read my mind, or he read the unspoken question in my eyes when he tilted his head and studied me. He shrugged sheepishly. “It seems I made the same mistake with them I’ve made with you. I knew what they really wanted but ignored their feelings.”

“On purpose?” There was no getting away from asking that.

“No. At least not the first time. And not with you, either. There was something different when we met. It’s like you said…we had so much in common and I really liked you. I thought, if I worked hard enough with you, I could make myself fall for you the way you obviously started to fall for me.” He grinned. “I liked what you did with your hair when you tried to flirt with me. Twirling it around your finger…” For illustration, he reached up and picked a strand of my loose hair, winding it around his index finger. “And after that first day it really seemed to work. I was thinking about you all night and couldn’t wait to see you again the next day.”

Really
? I gulped, because this was the closest to a declaration of love that I’d ever gotten from someone, even if it wasn’t quite as straightforward as I’d have loved. Wrapping my hands around my ankles, I said, “So what made you change your mind?”

Ethan hesitated, a taunting grin sneaking to his lips. He looked away again. “That was actually your fault.”

“How so?”

“You stood me up.”

“And that’s a pet peeve of yours, I take it.”

He laughed. The sound took a huge lump of tension from me. From him, too, it seemed. “No, that’s not it.” He nudged my shoulder with his. “But you made me wait at Charlie’s for almost an hour.
Alone
. I sat at the bar, keeping an eye on the door, and suddenly this guy pushed a bottle in front of me and said something like, ‘The beer’s on me if you tell me who you’re so desperately waiting for.’”

“A
guy
? Who?” There was no one sitting with Ethan that afternoon when the girls and I got to Charlie’s. Well, no one but— “Oh my God,
Ted
?”

His cheeks flushed. “The bartender, yes.”

A little hurt that he’d transferred his attentions so easily to someone else, I was about to say so, but I stopped. The guy had admitted he was gay. It wasn’t going to change anything. Pushing my feelings aside, I teased, “So while you were supposed to wait for me, you were secretly gushing over him? That’s rude, Ethan!” But boy, did it feel good to be able to joke about this. Because otherwise I might start running in circles or throw myself in front of the five o’clock train that ran through Grover Beach.

“I wasn’t gushing,” Ethan protested with an embarrassed moan. “But when he introduced himself and we shook hands, I kinda liked that.”

“What?”

“How his hand felt in mine,” he admitted in a low voice and grimaced. “Is that weird?”

“Heck, Ethan, I was dreaming about you touching me all week and totally swooning when you let me hook my arm through yours. So,
no
, that’s definitely
not
weird.” A shame for me? Yes. But that was my problem now, not his. I sighed. “So it was love at first sight for you, huh?”

“God, Susan!” He folded his arms on his knees and buried his face in them, the awkwardness clearly overwhelming him. “This is the first time I’m talking about this with anyone.
Ever
! Please, don’t make me say things like
love
out loud.”

Aw, poor darling. I laughed at him nevertheless. It seemed like I could handle this topic a lot better than he could. That, aside from the rest of our unusual conversation, was a surprise.

“Okay, so how about we call it
attraction
?”

“Ugh, can’t we just say I find him cool?”

“If that makes you feel better.”

He turned his head to me, peeking at me with only one eye. “It certainly would.”

“Okay, I’ll take note of that. Next time you’re telling me you find someone cool, I’ll know you’re totally into him.”

“Knock it off, Susan!” Ethan shoved playfully against my shoulder, but his nudge was hard enough for me to tip to the side. Grabbing my arm, he pulled me back up and I leaned my head against his shoulder.

“Does your family know?” I asked after a while.

“No, I don’t think they do. Well, Chris probably suspects as much, but Mom has no idea.”

“I think you’re right about Chris,” I said, pulling a sheepish grimace. “I told you he was a bit too interested in what you and I did in your room last week. He made some allusions to me not being your type. Heck, I didn’t know how he meant that.”

Ethan lowered his legs to sitting Indian-style and took my hand, holding it on his lap. As he traced my lifeline with his finger, my hand twitched from the soft tickle. “Believe me, if I was into girls, you’d totally be it. You’re smart and pretty. And you’re an ace at
FIFA
.” He smirked, as if that would somehow make me feel better. “But it just doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame,” I sighed. “Two years I’ve been waiting for these”—withdrawing my hand from his lap, I grabbed my boobs—“to grow, and now you’re telling me they are the actual reason I don’t appeal to you.”