Fish Out of Water (11 page)

He stops when Clark holds up a hand.

A huge smile breaks out on my face. Dylan is so dead.

Finally. There is justice in this world.

His uncle stares at him, seeming to contemplate which punishment would be best. “I think you should go, Mika. Dylan needs help getting away from that girl. I’ll let him borrow my car.”

Dylan bursts into laughter, and I hang my head in defeat.

Chapter 15

After the great AnimalZone betrayal, I’m actually excited to go home to Betty and Joel. Surely even they wouldn’t agree with this mock date ridiculousness. And I’m still not going. I don’t care what anyone says. I can’t think of a worse way to spend my Saturday.

When I get there Joel and Betty are sitting on the porch sipping tea. Joel gives me a big smile. “Welcome home! Would you like some?”

“Please.” I pull my bike up the step and lock it in place. “How did things go?”

Betty glares at her tea. “He tried to
undress
me. It was very rude.”

Joel laughs as he hands me a cup. “I wanted to help with her buttons. It might be good if you invested in some clothing that’s easier for her to take on and off unassisted.”

I take a sip, and it calms me. “I’ll let my parents know.”

“Excellent.” He hops up. “You stay here while I grab my things, and then I’ll get you up to speed.”

He dashes into the house, and I take his seat next to Betty though I’d rather take a nap after all that curry. She looks out to the street, and I study her face. It’s so different from mine, and yet the more I see her the more Dad appears in her features, and therefore mine as well. I’m not sure I like that.

I make no effort to start up a conversation, but as usual, when she’s in the right mood, Betty talks to me like I’m an old friend. “We had a porch like this when I was a little girl, and we’d sit and drink iced tea in the hot summer evenings. Grace and I would play in the front yard, while Mom and Dad looked on with big smiles on their faces. Those were the good times. I wish I could live in those moments forever.”

I want to ask her why, but last time we got on the topic of her father she got hardcore racist and crazy. There’s no way I’m going there again, even if I am curious.

“Did
you
have a good childhood?” she asks.

“I think so.” I take another sip of my tea, unsure of what else to say. My parents have been amazing as far as parents go…at least until recently, but the circumstances have messed us all up. Still, I know more than anything they want me to be happy.

She sighs. “I think what hurts most is that I can’t blame Stan for leaving. He turned out a lot better because he did…you have everything I wished for growing up.”

I hate it when she says stuff like this, because in these moments my heart traitorously warms. If she were always this way, I think I could like her. Then she starts crying. I try not to panic, but it seems like I have a way of doing this to her.

“Why did he have to leave?” she sobs.

“I don’t know…” I’m not sure who she’s talking about, my dad or her father or her husband. All the options make me feel bad for her, and I squirm at the thought that I could pity her when she’s been so rude to me. I should straight up hate her, but…I don’t know what to feel.

“Mom said he died, but I knew—
knew
—she was lying.” Must be her father then. “The men in uniform came to your house when soldiers died. That’s what happened to my friend Mabel. They never came.”

“Betty!” Joel says when he comes out. “Why all the tears, sweetie?”

I wince. “Sorry. She started talking about her childhood. I didn’t know what to do, so I just listened.”

He gives a sad smile. “She’s been nostalgic today. Sometimes that happens. You may want to write it down because she’ll lose those things eventually.”

“Okay.” I never thought about writing anything down, but since Dad won’t talk about it the stories might be lost forever otherwise.

“Let me give you the run-down,” Joel says. “She had her lunch, but she gets distracted while eating. We need to keep her on task there. Despite her protests, we got her cleaned up and she had a blast while I did her hair. As for your part, try to get her moving. Maybe a walk around the backyard or down the street. She needs a snack around two or three—your parents should take care of dinner and bedtime.”

“Okay. Thanks,” I say.

“You are very welcome. We’ll have a lot of fun, Mika.” He waves as he gets in his little blue car.

I manage to convince Betty to take a stroll around the block. There’s no more talk about her childhood, but she has plenty to say about all the rock yards. She hates rock yards. She finds them unfriendly and ugly and pretty much the worst idea ever. I try to distract her with the beautiful trees or flowers
also
in these yards, which works for about a minute before she tells me no one in their right mind would put rocks in their yard. By the time we get home, I am on the verge of screaming at her for being ridiculous.

She stops when we get back to the house. “Is this the right place?”

“Yup. I know it has rocks, but can you look past that and come inside?”

She scrunches her face. “I guess.”

I get her settled in front of the TV. She picks a talk show while I grab my laptop. We still have three hours until my parents get home, and that feels like an eternity. She makes comments on the show, and I do what Joel suggests—I type down what I’ve learned about her so far.

Hardly any of it is pleasant, but as I read over what I’ve written something overcomes me. I’m not quite sure what it is, except that reading what I wrote makes me smile more than it should. I think about how Joel said taking care of someone leads to love. Could this be the beginning of affection? I shut the laptop, refusing to think about it more.

After a couple hours, I get a call on my cell. I don’t know the
number, so I don’t pick up. It rings again. After the sixth consecutive attempt I pick up. “Hello?”

“So you
do
know how to answer your phone. I was starting to wonder.”

My eyes go wide at the voice. “Dylan?”

“Yup. I haven’t been allowed to use a phone for a month and Clark only allowed it so I could call you. Don’t you feel special?”

“No.”

“Well, you should. We need to shop for the clothes you’re wearing on Saturday. When’s a good time?” he says matter-of-factly. “Are you still there? Hello?”

“How’d you get my number?” AnimalZone only has our landline number, not my cell, so I know he didn’t get it from Clark.

“Shreya.”

“I’m gonna kill her.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying not to explode. “I don’t care if Shrey and your uncle think I should go with you. I’m not.”

“I guess I could pick out your clothes myself, but don’t complain if you don’t like them. What size? I’m guessing two.”

“No!” I yell, and Betty glares like I’m interrupting her at a movie. I head to the kitchen. “I’m not going to Cypress Point. I’m not shopping with you. This fake relationship is not happening. Tell London to leave you alone, like a normal person!”

“I have. Several times. It doesn’t work.” He lets out a long sigh. “Fine, I get that this isn’t fair to you at all—I’m not stupid—but do you really want her showing up every week at the store?”

I cringe, but hold firm. “That’s not enough incentive. What if she comes after me for this? What if your stupid plan doesn’t even work?”

There’s a pause. “You need to be less smart.”

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.” I lean on the counter. “You already owe me. I want some kind of payment before I agree to any more of your crap.”

“Since I’ve only been paid once, I don’t have much money…” There’s a feeling of panic in his voice, as if the idea is the scariest thing in the world. “Between the Indian food and your outfit, I won’t have anything until my uncle pays me again.”

My heart traitorously skips. “You don’t have to buy me clothes.”

“No offense, but you don’t want to go to Cypress Point wearing the wrong thing. It’ll be hard enough as it is, and it’s not fair to make you pay for them.”

“I still haven’t said I’m going…” I hate to admit how close I am to being convinced. Cypress Point is legendary—it would be incredible to see in person, a once in a lifetime chance. I just wish the company was more agreeable.

“Please, Mika. I’m actually begging you. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” If I’m going to say yes anyway, I may as well get something out of it. “Even if it’s cleaning every fish tank in my house for the rest of the summer?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know how many there are.”

“Don’t care. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.”

I purse my lips. This is an incredibly bad idea, I can feel it. But at the same time it’ll tell me everything I need to know about Dylan. And I’m curious. It’s stupid, but I have to know what he’s really like. Because as annoying as he can be, there have been hints of something underneath that I might actually like. Time to roll the dice. “Fine.”

Chapter 16

Betty is actually eating nicely at dinner, and my parents seem happy. I want to be more bitter about everything, but they’ve been awesome about taking over the second they get home. They even encourage me to go out and have fun so I don’t have to be around Betty all the time. It’s starting to make me feel guilty for the silent treatment I’ve been trying to employ. I swallow my bite of pizza, deciding that this might be the time to tell them about Cypress Point.

“So, um…” I start, but then the words get caught in my mouth.

“What is it, sweetie?” Mom looks tired, her long hair pulled back into a messy bun. They must have worked extra hard in the bay today.

“I just thought I should warn you that I’m going to Cypress Point on Saturday.”

My dad’s jaw drops. “What?! With who?”

“He’s—”

“A guy?” Dad says with too much interest. “How did you meet a guy who has access to Cypress Point? Are you dating him? Can I get in on this?”

“Dad!” I knew he’d be more excited than concerned, since Dad loves golf but rarely gets the chance to play. I don’t need any more Dylan fans. “No, you can’t. And his name is Dylan. He’s my boss’s nephew. His friends invited us, so it’s not really a date. I just couldn’t say no…”

Dad snorts. “You think? You better take pictures.”

I put my hand to my face. “I’m not acting like a tourist in front of them.”

“You can’t ask her to do that,” Mom says.

“I can’t believe you get to go to Cypress Point and you don’t even know how to play golf.” Dad takes a huge bite of his pizza.

“I can’t believe you’re jealous of your teenage daughter,” Betty says out of nowhere. I’d almost forgotten she was listening. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about the fact that she’s going with a boy?” She’s says “boy” as if being male is a criminal offense.

Dad slouches in his seat. “I try not to think about it.”

Mom tips her chin up. “We trust her.”

“I trusted Jenny, too, and she still got knocked up at sixteen.” Betty glares at me like I could be pregnant this very second.

I look to Dad instead. “I have cousins?”

“Three good-for-nothings,” Betty answers.

Dad straightens his glasses. “I wish I could refute that, but last I heard Slade was in jail. So.”

Slade
? I have a cousin named Slade. Who has been in jail for who-knows-what. Shaking that information off, I say, “I swear it’s not like that with Dylan. He’s barely a friend. I just have to find time to buy clothes is the problem. Should I tell him I have to do it at night?”

Mom and Dad look at each other. Then Mom says, “We’re finally getting started on the grant work now that Betty is taken care of. We won’t be able to get home any earlier.”

I nod. “I just needed to know what time to give him.”

There’s a long silence before Dad clears his throat. “So tell me about Dylan. Mainly, how he’d know people with Cypress Point memberships when his uncle runs AnimalZone.”

“Daaaaad.” I give up on my pizza and get up from the table. “I actually don’t know. It’s not really something you ask a person.”

“Sure it is! You say, ‘Hey, so how did your parents get filthy rich and important?’”

Throwing my plate in the sink, I glare at him. “He doesn’t like to talk about his parents. I’m going to my room now.”

“You’re no fun!” he calls, and I hear Mom swat his arm.

I try not to slam my door, but I still shut it loudly. Pacing my room, I can’t quite figure out why I’m so angry. But there’s something I don’t like about my parents’ reaction. My dad usually goes pale the second I mention a guy, but he didn’t even bat an eye this time. Have I just had too many boyfriends? Are they immune now?

Or is it the money?

It feels like the money. Dylan is more of an ass than my three exes combined, and yet he gets a pass because his name is tied with Cypress Point. That is supremely unfair.

Though their reaction makes me want to back out, I call Dylan.

“Hello?” he says.

“I can only go after six. For the shopping thing.”

There’s a pause. “But you get off at noon.”

I sigh. “I have something else after that, and I can’t get out of it.”

“What?”

“Not your business. It’s six or nothing.”

“Hmm…” I can picture his smug face, and it makes me even angrier that I gave in like everyone seems to. “I guess that should be enough time, if we’re efficient. Are you a slow shopper?”

I raise an eyebrow. “No. Why do I get the feeling you
like
shopping?”

“Because I do. Tomorrow okay?”

Maybe shopping is fun when you can buy whatever you want. “Yeah, bye.”

I flop onto my bed, mad at everything. Myself included. How did this happen? Why did Dylan have to say my name to London? He could have made up anyone, but no. A wave of nerves crashes over me—I’ve never felt insecure about my family’s social or economic standing, but these people…

I’m so out of my element.