Miss Adventure (22 page)

But I can’t say it. I can’t. My night of crowning glory has been ruined by something far worse than a bucket of pig’s blood.

Everyone is quiet now. I look across the room at Jack.

Jack.

He thought his parents were getting fun. But really, they just thought I’m some brain damaged charity case of Jack’s. Oh, God. And Jack actually thought his parents might be
trying
.

“Jack,” I say across the silent room. “Let’s go.”

He walks to me, takes my hand, and we head toward the door.

When applause breaks out across the room, we start to run.

Jack and I don’t say a word, not the entire way up the freeway toward home.

I’m frozen through. Solid, numb.

Once again, my life has spiraled into uncontrollable humiliation. But this time, I’m awake. And this time, I’ve sucked Jack into it.

As I watch the lights on the side of the freeway flash by, I wonder how I could have been so blindsided. I’ve been trying hard to pay attention to my life.

That damn helmet. It all started that afternoon in Jack’s office, when his mother saw me wearing that
damn
helmet
. And the mouth guard. I hadn’t wanted to take it out in front of her. She was so elegant and posh that I couldn’t just take out the slobbery thing then shake her hand. And all my politeness did was make her think I have some sort of speech impediment.

The ridiculously inappropriate dress tonight with the saloon-whore boa iced my cake. Jack’s “little friend,” the fashion-challenged half-wit.

When Chick pulls the car up in front of my house, he has the sense to keep quiet. I want to thank him or something, but I can’t. I don’t even look at Jack or tell either one of them goodnight.

I get out and slam the car door. I walk up onto my porch, let myself in, and close the door behind me.

After stumbling into the living room, I lean my butt against the back of the couch and look around. All the cats are hiding. All the dogs are out back. I hear the car drive away. I’m alone with my stupid feather boa.

The front door opens and Jack walks into my house. He looks at me. “It’s my fault,” he says. “I never told my mother why you looked and sounded so weird that day in my office. I don’t trust anyone in my family when it comes to Into the Wild. No way was I telling her about our project. So she must have thought you were… special.”

Special
?

I open my mouth to say something cutting, but instead, I start laughing. And sobbing. I’m choking on the absurdity of it all so hard that I fall over the back of the couch.

“Aah!”

“
Reow
!”

I land right on the inconspicuous Blanche, making us both spring up from the cushions. Blanche darts under the couch, bringing the boa with her. But half of the fat feather snake still trails out from under the couch. I just stand there and watch as the limp boa slowly disappears inch by inch as it’s pulled under the couch. Jack moves closer, also compelled to watch the boa’s fate.

Once it is gone, we look at each other.

“I never get to see stuff like that at my house,” he says.

I wipe away a tear. “It’s a fitting end to the night, I’d say.”

He moves around the couch, getting closer to me. “None of it matters. You were unstoppable tonight.”

I put my hand out, against his chest, to keep him from coming any closer. He takes my hand and keeps coming.

“Jack,” I say, using two hands, both of which he folds in his.

“The car is gone,” he says, trapping me with a look that’s hot and steady. “I want to stay.”

“STAY?” I push him away then fly across the room, putting as much distance between us as my living room allows. “Stay?” I turn on him. “All night? Are you NUTS?”

“Lisa.” He takes a step closer.

“Don’t come near me!”

“Lisa, I’m sorry. For everything.”

“I KNOW. That’s why you’re not allowed to touch me!”

“It’s not like that.” He stops and just looks at me. “I mean, I’m sorry, but that’s not why I want to stay.”

“Oh no?” Now I sound all bitchy-bitter, and I’m in my element. “You and your mom manage to orchestrate my hyperbolic humiliation. You did it. You saw it. You were part of it. And now I’m going to let you into my bed for a pity fuck? Are you KIDDING?”

He just stares at me, looking all mad. “Pity you? Jesus, Lisa! You have six million dollars. Why the
hell
should anyone
pity
you?” His voice is solid black granite. “Your life isn’t so bad, Lisa.”

“I know!” I blink at him. I take in a breath. “Come on,” I say, walking past him toward the front door. “I’m taking you home.”

“I don’t want to go.”

I turn around. “And I don’t want to believe that you want to stay out of pity, but I do. So suck it up and let’s go.”

“Lisa. It doesn’t matter. What they think of us.”

“But it does matter,” I cry. “It must. When you showed up here tonight, you just wanted me out of my dress. Now you want to make me breakfast? Please. Something had to happen between then and now to make you want to be with me.” I turn back to the door.

“It did,” he says, but not in an intense arguing voice. He’s quieter. “You talked to Chick.”

I stop with my hand on the door. “Chick?”

“You sat up in the seat, and just started talking to him. Nobody does that, Lisa. Nobody
I
know, anyway.”

I turn around to face him. “Chick? The driver? You’ve got to be kidding.”

He takes a step closer.

If I back away, I’ll hit the door, making myself cornered.

“Lisa,” he says, stopping a few inches away. “Don’t do this. Please.”

“Don’t do what? Drive you home?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“You’re going,” I say, snatching my car keys off the hall table.

He doesn’t move. “We come up with so many reasons for not being together.”

“
We
?” The word rips through every other feeling raging around inside me. “All the reasons
we
come up with?”

“Yes.”

“You mean
you
have reasons,” I say, making sure he is clear on this. “You thought about us and
decided
against me.”

His voice is quiet. “Yes.”

I stand up much taller. “But tonight I finally passed muster when I talked to Chick. Lucky me.”

“Give me a break, Lisa. We’re nothing alike. Nothing. And you can be so clueless and selfish. It took me a while, but I got here.”

“Bravo,” I say. “Like you’re Mr. Perfect.”

“I never said I was.”

“I have a list!” I cry. “That’s right,” I continue, unable to stop. “I have a list! Of all the reasons we can never be together. But it didn’t matter. I still wanted you.” I take in a shuddering breath, and he moves closer.

“Really?” His hands are on me, in my hair. “So we both had our reasons.”

He kisses me then, but lightly enough that in a few seconds I have enough wits left to defend myself. I push him away using all my might. “But mine didn’t matter. Not compared to how I felt when I was with you.”

“Felt?” Jack looks at me, swipes a knuckle across the corner of his lower lip. He’s breathing hard, looking like a prizefighter ready to come in for the kill. “You still feel it. And you’re still running away.”

I open my mouth but only a squeak comes out.

“And then there’s how you always fight with me after we have sex,” he says.

“Me? You’re twisting everything!
You
always run away! And
you
always fight with
me
after we have sex!”

“I know.” He exhales. “I know,” he says much more quietly. “I am so messed up.”

“Yeah,” I say. “You are.”

“But I want to be your boyfriend. For real, Lisa. You and me.”

He looks at me, and I look back.

I step to him just as he moves into me. The kiss is real. Me and a guy who really likes me.

He stops kissing me but our foreheads still touch. “Lisa,” he says.

“Jack.”

He grabs my hand and we take off across the living room. In a few seconds, we both tumble onto my big, beautiful bed.

I open my eyes to find myself looking into Rose’s tuxedo face. She’s sitting on my chest, staring at me. “Hey, Rosie.” I lever myself up onto my elbows and see Dorothy, Mal, Pacquito and Ginger all curled up on the bed, staring at me.

And then there’s Jack, lying next to me, out for the count.

Wow.

Jack.

I’M IN BED WITH JACK.

I’m so excited I want to call someone right away, but Jack is the only one I can think of to call, and he’s sleeping. Plus, he already knows about us.

So, instead of calling someone, I curl onto my side, dislodging the three cats, to watch Jack sleep. But he doesn’t do that thing lovers do in books and movies and wake up just because I’m watching him. Nope. His breathing is deep and regular. I don’t think he’s waking up anytime soon.

I look down to the bottom of the bed where Pacquito and Ginger rest their chins on Jack’s legs. I wrinkle my forehead. Jack must’ve gotten up at some point to let the animals in. What a nice thing to do. Maybe this means that he meant what he said last night.

Maybe he really does want to be my boyfriend. But how much does he care about me? So far, enough to think of the animals in the middle of the night. But does this mean he’s going to be a couple with me? Will we do stuff together? Will we do everything together?

I watch him sleeping, and I just cannot picture it.

Then again, I can.

Am I crazy? Will Jack actually kiss me in public? I don’t mean he’ll take me to the mall and start making out with me by the pretzel stand. But when I show up at Into the Wild, will he say hello and give me a quick kiss on the lips? Will he sit by me in class? Will he introduce me to people as his girlfriend, or will I still be his secret? Will we eat dinner together a lot? Sleep together almost every night?

I sigh, snuggling deeper into the blankets. It’s not that I need to have all the answers or a plan. But it might be nice to know what’s going to happen when Jack wakes up.

Half an hour later, I’m still waiting, still wondering. I look at the clock. Ten a.m. on a Sunday.

The Giants play the early game against the Eagles.

Sliding out of bed, I set off for the laundry room. In the dryer I find my favorite pair of boxers and the threadbare
Ah-ha
T-shirt I’ve had since ninth grade.

Fifteen minutes later I’m curled on the couch with a cup of coffee and Fred.

Kick-off. Downed in the end zone. Touchback. Boooring.

“Lisa!?” Jack comes crashing into the room, making me yelp and slop my coffee onto Fred. Jack stops short when he sees me on the couch. His hair stands out in all directions and his eyes look all panicky.

And oh, yeah. He’s naked.

“Lisa,” he says on this huge sigh. “I thought you left.”

Putting down my wet, sticky mug, I struggle out from under Fred, who doesn’t seem to mind at all that I spilled coffee on him.

I stand up to face Jack. “Uh…it’s my house.”

He looks around. “I know.” He looks at the TV, which has the Giants at first and ten. He looks at me, then back to the TV, then back to me. “You’re watching the early game?”

“Eagles at Giants.”

Jack scrunches his eyebrows together. “You have NFL Sunday Ticket?”

Oh, God. He’s mad that I got out of bed to watch football after our night of crazy passion. I’m going to lose Jack because of the New York Giants.

“It isn’t like that,” I insist. “It’s not like I abandoned you for Eli. When I woke up, I
tried
doing the romantic thing. I watched you sleep for a while, but you didn’t wake up and it was ten o’clock.”

Jack starts laughing. Then he looks at me and laughs harder.

“What?”

He pulls me into a hug, the really good kind where he molds me against his body and runs his hands down my back. Then lifts his head from my neck and takes a deep breath.

“Jesus, Lisa.” He takes my face in his hands and kisses me so tenderly my toes curl against the hardwood floor. He smiles against my lips. “You even made coffee.”

* * * * *

Once the Giants kneel on the ball for the win, Jack stretches out. He’s all behind me and under me, so I stretch out, too. “I’m starving,” he says, moving my hair with his fingers and kissing me on the neck.

I shift into a sitting position. “I’m not sure what else I have. We already finished all the bagels and eggs, and you polished off the jar of olives. Maybe I have a stick of butter you can eat.”

“I can do one better.” He sits up, biting me on my naked shoulder. “My fridge is stocked with cold cuts.”

“Really?” He might have pastrami.

Man, I SUCK as a vegetarian.

“We can be there in ten minutes.”

“Okay.” I leap up from the couch and then stop on a dime. “Wait. We can just order food.”

“I know.” Jack walks to the hall where he finds his pants halfway underneath Pacquito. “But I have these fantasies about having sex with you all over my house. All over the property, really.”

“Hmmm,” I say, considering. “Do you have Sunday Ticket?”

“Get dressed, smartass.”

* * * * *

The cool sheets glide across my thighs as I bend my knees. Jack feels warm where he’s pressed against my hip. “So, this is your bedroom.” I look around.

“Like it?”

“Definitely my favorite,” I snuggle down into the covers. “This might sound boring, but being in bed with you rocks. I mean, the foyer and the kitchen were fun, and the couch was mighty convenient at half time.” I smile like the little girl who’s found the most Easter eggs. “But this is heavenly. And sinful. Perfect, really.”

“So…” He glides a hand up my leg. “You like my bed. And it only has one comforter.”

“But it’s a
cool
comforter,” I look at the white downy comforter with grayish-blue seersucker stripes. “It reminds me of an old fashioned summer suit. Makes me think of Country Time lemonade or
The Great Gatsby
.”

Jack leans up on his elbow and looks into my face, a small crinkle between his brows and half a smile curving into his face.

“What?” I ask quietly.

“It’s just that you…”

I smile. “I what?”

“Everything in your life reminds you of something else,” he says. “Every comforter you own reminds you of something, your floor lamps remind you of London, your wardrobe reminds–”

“So?” I say, cutting him off before he figures out that having so many animals reminds me of Ally Sheedy in
Short
Circuit
. “I like things that make me happy.”

“But it’s all stuff from your past,” he says. “Or from make-believe. It all reminds you of something
else
.”

I touch the hair falling over his forehead. “You don’t,” I say. “You don’t remind me of anyone or anything. You’re totally alien.”

“What a thing to say when I’m naked.”

“Seriously,” I say. “You live on a planet where there’s no fear. It’s like living on a planet where there’s no laughing or no cookies. I can’t imagine it.”

“Lisa, I’m pretty sure everyone gets scared.”

“But you don’t get scared of normal things.”

“I guess not,” he says, considering. “You scare the hell out of me, and you’re anything but normal.”

I feel my heart stutter, then race, but I pretend Jack hasn’t said anything HUGE. After all, I’m not stupid enough to hang my hat on anything a guy says in bed. So, I laugh instead. “What a thing to say when
I’m
naked.”

“So you are.” He moves to cover me. “So you are.”