So Over It (9 page)

The creases in Justin’s forehead deepened. “You said you might stay for school.”

“Yeah, I
might
.” My ringing cell phone interrupted. I glanced at the display—Connor—and pushed him into voice mail. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s a big decision.”

“If you’re not staying”—Justin stopped walking and faced me—“then what are you doing with me?”

The sun hung golden behind him, silhouetting him against the blue sky. It made it impossible to read his expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what’s the point of us starting up something if you’re leaving in August?”

Like hanging together was pointless if I didn’t eventually have a ring on my finger? Hello, what about just having fun?

“We can’t just hang out?” I asked, shifting so I could see his face better.

“We can, I just . . .” He took a deep breath, his gaze intense on my face. “Oh, why not just tell you. I really like you, okay? You’re sweet and fun and beautiful, and I had a great time last night. But I don’t do summer flings. I don’t want to get too involved if you’re leaving.”

“I don’t know if I can just pick up and leave Kansas City.”

“Why not?”

My phone chimed with a voice mail. Connor, presumably. “Well, there’s Abbie and Owen to consider.”

Justin nodded as if thinking about this. “I don’t mean this the way it’s potentially going to come out, but why should Abbie get consideration above what
you
want? If you can’t leave home now, if you feel too tied down, when
will
you be able to leave?”

A good point.

“I guess you’re right.” I resumed walking. The conversation had gotten a little too intense, too pointed, for my liking.

“I know it’s hard to make a change,” Justin said, walking with me. “But you made the decision to move to Hawaii, and you should stick with it.”

Before I came, I didn’t have a doubt in my mind that I should be here in Kauai. But now there seemed a thousand reasons to go back. And not just in two months, but on Thursday with the rest of my family. But how could I do that? How could I go home and just give up on reinventing myself?

The counterquestions came unbidden. How could I give up watching Owen grow up? Seeing Heather get married? Leave my sister to fend for herself when I’d said I’d be there?

My phone chirped again and I silenced it. “I just don’t know what’s right.”

I didn’t realize I’d spoken it out loud until Justin said, “I think you know you’re supposed to be here. You’re just not ready to admit it.”

But if that was true, why did it aggravate me to hear him say so?

“So, I’ve seen your nephew outside,” Kelli said. “He’s darling.”

“Isn’t he? We’re all crazy about him.”

“I love babies.” She sighed. “Chase thinks it’s weird.”

“They don’t do anything,” Chase said absently. It sounded like an old argument.

Kelli rolled her eyes at me, and I smiled. She reminded me a lot of Heather, very sweet and confident. She’d moved to Hawaii with the guys and lived by herself in what she described as a teeny-tiny shoebox of an apartment. Kelli seemed hungry for friendship, which suited me fine. I’d never had a Christian friend my age. Well, Justin, Chase, and Kelli were two years older, but basically my age.

We’d long ago finished dinner, and now the four of us sat on cheap white chairs on the guys’ rickety wooden patio, watching the sun set. My friends back home would’ve busted out the liquor at a moment like this, but my new friends seemed content with Cokes as they entertained me with stories of back home. Well, “entertained” wasn’t the best word. I had a tough time following some of the stories but appreciated their efforts to include me. They seemed eager to accept me as a new member in their group, and with the warm breeze on my face and no pressures to light up or doctor my Coke, joining them sounded good to me as well.

I pushed back from the table. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall and on the right,” Justin said.

“And don’t worry,” Kelli said. “It’s clean. I made sure.”

I wound my way through the guys’ house, which was small and creaky like my grandparents’, only with sparse furniture and excessive electronics. They had no couch or dining room table, but there were two stereo systems and a TV that took up nearly an entire wall.

As Kelli promised, I found the bathroom clean. I washed my hands with off-brand soap that smelled of gummy bears and dried them on what had clearly been one of their mom’s old dish towels—red gingham printed with green peppers. Soon, this might be my life too—skimping on soap and using castaway towels. Maybe living with Kelli. Working a lousy job or two.

A thrill ran up my spine as my hands grew clammy with fear. How could I be so conflicted about the idea of moving out on my own? A year ago, when my life was warring parents and a pesky little sister, I’d yearned for this moment. Now that it had arrived, would I be brave enough to seize it?

Walking through the house to the back porch, I heard the muffled sound of my cell phone beeping from my beach bag, indicating a message. I thought I’d silenced it back at the beach.

When I pulled out my phone, I found I’d missed another call from Connor and now had two voice mails. I couldn’t resist finding out why he’d called twice.

As I waited for my password to register, Kelli’s loud, clear laugh reached me. Why was I wasting time checking voice mail? I should be out on the patio enjoying my new friends.

I moved my finger to disconnect the call, but stopped when Connor’s excited voice burst in my ear. “I can’t believe you sent me such awesome news in a text message! I’m so happy for Heather. And Brent seems like a really nice guy. You like him, right? I think you said you did, but I can’t remember now. Anyway . . . thanks for letting me know. Talk to you later. Bye.”

Thankfully no one could see me smiling. Or saving the message when it made so much more sense to just delete it.

Connor’s voice came on the line again, this time more subdued. “Hey . . . I hoped you’d pick up, but I probably should’ve expected voice mail. Anyway, I thought I should apologize for yesterday when I hung up on you. I heard that guy and just . . . And it’s stupid because you told me when you left that we were over, so I had some idea that you’d be moving on, but . . . I don’t know. I sound stupid. All I wanted to say is I’m sorry for reacting the way I did.” He paused and my breath caught. “I miss you, Skylar. Hope to see you soon.”

I snapped shut my phone, blinking away the tears blurring my vision. How could I even think of going back home? I’d just wind up back together with Connor. Or falling back into the trap I had this spring—Eli and parties and so on. I could not let that happen again.

“Hey, Skylar, everything okay?” Justin called through the screen.

I shoved my phone into my back pocket, along with my cozy feelings for Connor. “Everything’s fine.”

I rejoined my new friends on the patio, all smiles and chatter. They didn’t know to look for the tick in my left eye to see if I was emotional. Or the bridge of my nose creasing when I fought back tears. They didn’t know me, but they wanted to, and I wanted them to. Or at least the things I didn’t mind sharing.

And with their help, I could reinvent Skylar Hoyt.

10

“You, like, have to come back,” Lisa said with a loud pop of her gum. “There’s nothing to do here.”

“Yeah, sounds great,” I said as I applied mascara. Juggling my cell phone, compact, and Lash Factor brought a pang of nostalgia for the spacious vanity in Abbie’s and my bathroom. At least in three days I wouldn’t be sharing Grammy and Papa’s half bath with my entire family.

“Oh, has Madison told you? Eli’s hooked up with this really obnoxious girl. She laughs at everything he says. I’m not even kidding.”

I forced myself to giggle along with her. I’d hate for Lisa to suspect I felt strange about Eli replacing me. Not that I hadn’t expected it. We hadn’t talked since that night Connor came to get me because of Abbie’s meltdown. Which, now that I thought about it, really irked me. Eli hadn’t even cared enough to see what the deal was with Abbie and if she was okay. How insulting.

“Oh, and . . .” Lisa’s tone turned serious. “I’m pretty sure Connor and Jodi are official now.”

All thoughts of Eli evaporated. “Why do you say that?” “Madison and I were at Starbucks yesterday, and they were there too.”

My heart rate returned to normal. “Coffee at Starbucks doesn’t equal dating.”

“I was definitely picking up a vibe.”

“What kind of vibe?”

“Like a dating vibe.”

I rolled my eyes at my reflection. “Were they, like, holding hands or anything?”

“No, but you know how they are. They’re practically Puritans.”

I thought of Connor’s mouth warm against mine. There’d been passion, but an understanding that it belonged to us and we’d stay in control.

“They’re not Puritans.” I snapped shut my mirror. “They just believe in self-restraint.”

“Whatever. Tell me about Hawaii. I have to vacation vicariously.”

“Hawaii’s . . . great.”

“Well, that’s convincing.”

“No, it is. It’s beautiful. And there’s this guy who—”

Abbie entered our room, bringing Owen and a ripe-smelling diaper.

“A guy who what?” Lisa asked. “Did you meet a guy, Skylar Lynn Hoyt? No surprise. What’s he like? Is he a native? Because they’re so hot.”

“I’ll call you back later,” I said and hung up.

“Bet you’ll be glad when we leave and you can have a private conversation,” Abbie said as she stretched Owen out on the floor. “I’m
so
ready to get away from here. I don’t know how I’m going to put up with Grammy until Thursday. How will you do it all summer? Or more?”

Before I could answer, Abbie turned her head. “You hear that?” She scooted closer to the vent. “It’s Mom and Grammy.”

“Abbie, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“They’re talking about you.”

I crouched beside Abbie just in time to hear Mom say, “Skylar wanting to stay here has nothing to do with me and Paul.”

“You’re lying to yourself,” Grammy said. “The only time children want to leave home is when there’s something wrong.”

“She’s eighteen. She starts college this fall. It’s a perfectly normal time for a child to leave the house.”

“What about Abbie? She wants to stay.”

Abbie gaped at me. “I so do
not
.”

“Shh,” I said.

“No, Mom. Abbie used to want to come here, back when Paul and I were having problems. But she’s fine now, and she’s happy in Kansas.”

“Until next time Paul hurts you,” Grammy said, her voice soft. Or maybe it just seemed that way because it filtered through the vent. “He always seems to hurt you.”

“That’s life. That’s marriage. I’ve hurt him too. Haven’t you and Dad hurt each other?”

“Never like this. Never where we had to get counseling.” “There’s nothing wrong with us getting counseling,” Mom said. “At least we’re willing to work things out. Not just bury our problems and hope they disappear.”

“I don’t know what you’re implying, Teri, but I don’t like it.”

“Then I think you
do
know what I’m implying.” The unmistakable sound of a chair sliding against the linoleum. “Skylar staying is her business and me going home is mine. Don’t try making either of them yours.”

A few seconds later, the front door slammed.

We stared at the vent until Owen fussed and Abbie had to tend to him.

“No Justin today?”

I turned and found Papa seated on the patio bench, hands occupied with an electronic poker game.

“He’s working.” I took a seat next to Papa. Mom, Dad, Abbie, and I were headed down to the beach, but it looked like I was the only one ready.

“Seems like a nice guy, Justin.”

“Yeah, he does.”

“’Course, that Connor fellow sounds nice too.”

When I looked at him with wide eyes, Papa smiled. “That sister of yours likes to talk.”

“Great,” I muttered and burrowed my back into the bench cushion.

We sat in our normal uncomfortable silence. Shouldn’t I know how to talk to my own grandfather? I wanted to say something, to get to know him, but didn’t know how. He seemed to have the same problem with me.