Don't Bet On Love (12 page)

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Authors: Sheri Cobb South

BOOK: Don't Bet On Love
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CHAPTER ELEVEN

 

Because Mom had taken my car keys, I had to ask Mark to give me a ride to Colette’s house. To my surprise, he didn’t object. In fact, he seemed glad—even eager—to oblige.


I have a gut feeling about this party, Moll,

he told me happily as he drove down the winding roads of Windsor Heights, the expensive subdivision where Colette lived.

Something good is going to happen tonight, I just know it! That money is as good as mine!

Since I had my own plans for the party, I didn’t bother to disillusion him. Instead, I flipped down the visor mirror and gave my appearance one final inspection. I’d done my hair up in a new style and fastened it with pink silk roses to match my dress. I had to admit. I was rather pleased with the result. It made me look almost glamorous, if you didn’t count the light scattering of freckles across my nose. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about them. I’d discovered years ago that lemon juice really didn’t work, and slathering on heavy makeup only made me look like a clown.

And I certainly don't have anything to be ashamed of in the wardrobe department
, I thought, glancing down at my dress. I’d found it on the sale rack at Lundquist’s, a pale pink creation with a ruffle over one shoulder, a dropped waist, and a short skirt made of three tiers of ruffles. Even at twenty-five percent off, it had cost me my last dime, and once again I’d had to borrow, this time from Beth. She was enough of a romantic to consider it a sound investment, which, in a way, it was. If the dress would help me rescue Gary from Colette’s clutches, it would be worth every penny I owed Beth.

Satisfied, I snapped the visor back up just as Mark slowed down in front of a brightly lit colonial-style house with four white columns across the front.


Well, here we are,

he said, wheeling the car into Colette’s already crowded driveway.

Even though you’ve wimped out on our deal, just keep an eye on Gary for me, okay?


Don’t worry,

I said emphatically.

I will!

I got out of the car and walked up the lighted path to the house, where a rather intimidating woman met me at the front door. I had never met Colette’s mother before, but I recognized her instantly. The tall, slender figure, the dark hair and strikingly beautiful features, the slightly haughty manner—they were Colette all over again.


You’ll find Colette’s friends out by the pool,

Mrs. Carroll said as if she knew instinctively that I was no friend of Colette’s.

Just go straight down the center hall and out the French doors.

Obediently, I followed her directions, glancing through open doorways at rooms that made me think of the home decorating magazines Mom sometimes read. When I reached the French doors leading out onto the terrace, I hesitated. The confidence I had felt earlier was beginning to evaporate.

Colette had certainly gone all out on this party. Since the April evening was still too cool for swimming, the pool was covered with flower-shaped candles bobbing on the surface of the water. A string of Japanese lanterns illuminated two refreshment tables set up at one end of the terrace, where a large group of kids had already gathered around to sample the goodies. There were plenty of faces I recognized, but I didn’t see a single person I knew well enough to start a conversation with—there was no sign of Colette, or of Gary, either. I stood there in the doorway, feeling awkward and alone, not knowing what to do next.

Instant wallflower
, I thought, glancing down at the sparkling surface of the pool.
Just add water and stir
.

At that moment I heard a masculine voice calling my name.


Molly! Molly McKenzie!

I turned toward the sound, and saw Steve separate himself from a group of kids and start walking in my direction.

I hurried to meet him.

Steve!

I exclaimed, relieved to see a really familiar face.

What are you doing here? I thought you’d be out with Liz.


She’s away for the weekend,

he explained.

But Mark seemed to think that this would be Gary’s big night, so when Colette invited me, I decided I’d better protect my investment. I figure when it looks like Gary’s about to ask her to the prom, I can push them both into the pool!

I smiled at his joke, then asked anxiously,

Did Gary say he’s going to ask her tonight?

Steve shrugged.

Not in so many words. To tell you the truth
,
Gary doesn’t seem to want to talk about it at all, and I don’t know why. I mean, Colette is his for the asking. Why, just yesterday she—

Steve broke off abruptly, his eyes fixed on some point behind me.

Well, get a load of that!

I turned to follow his gaze, and saw Gary and Colette framed in the doorway.
Gary
wore a pale turquoise sport coat, a white open-neck shirt, and dark trousers. I couldn’t help noticing how the color of the jacket brought out
the red highlights in his hair.

But it was Colette, clinging tightly to his arm, who riveted my attention. She was wearing a clingy silver tunic over black spandex leggings that hugged her slender legs so closely, I was sure she must have been melted and poured into them. In comparison, my pink ruffled dress seemed dowdy and childish. Colette’s dark hair was coiled into a topknot high on her head, revealing silver earrings that dangled almost to her shoulders. All my fighting spirit faded away at the sight of her. How could a pug-nosed, freckle-faced blonde possibly compete with
that
?


That sound you hear is me kissing my ten dollars good-bye,

Steve muttered glumly.

Do you want something to eat? The mob around the refreshment tables is beginning to thin out.

Sure enough, most of the kids had left the food and were now gathering around Colette and Gary. Silently, I followed Steve around the edge of t
he swimming pool to the refresh
ment tables at the other end of the terrace. I wasn’t at a
ll hungry, but anything was bet
ter than standing there and watching Colette and her crowd fawn over the very same boy they’d ignored only two weeks earlier.

Although I didn’t want to look, my eyes kept swiveling back to Gary as if they had a will of their own. I was too far away to get a really good look, but there was something about the way he was standing beside Colette with his hands dug into his pants pockets that told me something was wrong.

Impulsively I turned to Steve.

What do you think is the matter with Gary?

I whispered.


What do you mean?

he asked, dipping a com chip into the bowl of salsa.

He looks okay to me.”


He seems—

I paused, searching for the right word.

Uncomfortable,

I said at last.


Oh, you know how Gary is. He’s probably just bashful. Gary’s still not used to being the center of attention. Pretty soon he’ll loosen up and start enjoying himself.

Steve’s explanation sounded reasonable enough, but I wasn’t convinced.

No, it’s more than that. Gary looks miserable.


Well, whatever’s wrong with him, Colette will fix it,

Steve assured me.

Hey, have you tried these cheese straws? They’re pretty good.

I let the subject drop, but while I mingled, talked, and even danced a little, I continued to keep an eye on Gary and Colette. They were pretty painful to watch. I saw Colette reaching up to pop a frosted grape into Gary’s mouth; Colette perched on Gary’s lap, whispering what were probably sweet nothings in his ear, Colette and Gary wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying slowly to the music blaring from the stereo. Worst of all, I saw Colette lead Gary to a dark co
rn
er, where she reached up to draw his head down to hers.

I decided that if Gary was unhappy, it was only because he was impatient for all of us to go home so he could be alone with Colette. Suddenly the night air felt chilly and damp, the music was much too loud, and I had a splitting headache.

Glancing at my watch, I saw to my dismay that it was only nine o’clock. Mark wouldn’t be coming to pick me up until eleven. I wasn’t at all sure I could stand two more hours of this nightmare.

I pushed my way through the crowd back to the French doors, wanting to get away from everybody, if only for a minute or two. Once inside the house, I entered the first room I came to, a library, and closed the door behind me.

I hadn’t been there very long when I heard the door open with a faint creak. Turning to see who ha
d come in, I found myself face-
to-face with Gary.

He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

Oh, hi, Molly,

he said.

Gary looked just as good up close as he had from a distance. But his tie was loosened and a telltale smudge of lipstick stained the comer of his mouth. Unable to bear the sight,
I
averted my eyes.

Hi

was all I could trust myself to say.

There was a long, awkward silence. Finally Gary spoke again.

Some party, huh?


Oh, yeah!

I
agreed with an enthusiasm that sounded strained, even to my own ears.

Colette never does anything halfway,

I added, then blushed as I remembered the proof of Colette’s thoroughness stamped on Gary’s mouth.

After another long pause Gary said,

So, I haven’t seen you in a while,
Molly. How’ve you been lately?”


Oh, just fine,

I replied brightly. Still try
ing to avoid looking directly at him, I lowered my gaze to the floor. That’s when I noticed the shiny black leather shoes he wore.

You—you got wing tips,

I said.

Gary shifted his weight from one large foot to the other, as if his new
shoes were a little too tight. “
Yeah, well, I figured I’d need them. You know, with the prom and all.

I nodded. “
Yeah, I know.


Uh—you look really nice tonight, Molly
,”
he said. Was it my imagination, or did Gary seem reluctant to go back to the party?


Thanks,

I murmured. “
You look nice, too. But—uh—Gary



Yeah?


Your—your lipstick is smudged.


My what?

Suddenly
Gary
’s face turned beet red.

Oh
,
wow!

He took a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his jacket and began to rub at his mouth, but without much success.

Did I get it?

I shook my head.


Would you mind?

Gary asked, offering me the handkerchief.

I took it and reache
d up, dabbing timidly at the corn
er of his mouth. I hadn’t been so close to him since the day of our dancing lesson, and now all those strange sensations I’d felt came flooding back. What would
happen if I
put my arms around Gary’s neck and drew his head down to mine, the way I'd seen Colette do earlier that evening?

I quick
ly backed away before I did any
thing stupid.

There,

I said.

That did it.


Thanks.

As Gary returned the handkerchief to his pocket, we heard the opening bars of

No One in the World Like You

coming from the stereo outside.

So, Molly, do you want to dance or something?

A warm glow filled me all the way down to my toes. Gary remembered

our

song
!

I’d like that very much,

I said, smiling up at him.

He stepped toward me and was about to take my arm, when Colette burst into the room.

Gary!
There
you are! I was wondering if I should send out a search party.

Then she turned her 2,000-kilowatt smile on me.

Oh, Molly, don’t you look sweet! I do hope we’ll have time for a cozy little chat later.


Gary and I were just about to dance,

I said, feeling the evening’s only bright spot suddenly grow dim.


I hate to disappoint you, but I’m claiming all of Gary’s slow dances,

Colette said, taking his hand and pulling him out of the room.

Hostess’s privilege, you know. I’m sure you
understand.

Glancing over her shoulder, she gave me a broad wink as she led Gary away.

Alone once again in the library, I felt hot tears sting my eyes, and wiped them away angrily. What had I expected, anyway? I was crazy to have come to this party, and even crazier to have imagined I could ever compete with Colette Carroll. As for that

cozy little chat

she’d mentioned,
I’d rather die. But there I was, and unless I could figure out some way to escape, there I’d have to stay until Mark arrived to take me home. Controlling my emotions with great effort, I followed Colette and Gary down the hall and out onto the terrace.


Hey, where’d you disappear to, Molly?

Steve asked, coming over me.

Want to dance?

On the other side of the pool, Gary and Colette were holding each other close as they moved in time to the music, their reflections dancing among the candles on the surface of the water. I dragged my eyes back to Steve,
who was waiting more or less pa
tiently for an answer.


Thanks, Steve,

I said,

but all of a sud
den I’m not feeling very well. Would you mind giving me a ride home instead?

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