Tripping Me Up (4 page)

SEVEN

HADLEY

“W
anna hang out later?” Paige sits across from me at our table in the cafeteria. She breaks off a section of her orange. Juice spurts out of it and runs down her hand.

“Can’t. I’m going to my dad’s today.” I unscrew the cap of my bottled water and take a sip.
The lukewarm liquid coats my tongue and slides down my parched throat. Chatting and laughing surrounds us from all the other students. My gaze sweeps the crowded room, an array of mismatched colors like a painting with no rhyme or reason. I hone in on Tripp’s table filled with wide shouldered, muscular jocks. There is a semblance of unity about them with their short hair cuts, similar builds and sense of style. When Sonya sashays over and slips onto the bench next to Tripp, my stomach churns.

“Are you spending the weekend there?”  Paige yanks my attention back to her.

I nod. “I think so.”

“Okay, well text me if you want company.”

Paige knows how lonely it can get at Dad’s condo. Ever since Mom married Rob it’s been kind of nice to have some peace and quiet every once in awhile, but it does get old. Dad spends most of his time immersed in work, or out with his girlfriend.

“I will.” I smile, reaching int
o my ziplock bag and picking out a grape from the cluster, prying it from the hard stem. “But I am looking forward to spending some quality time with Dad’s flatscreen. I’m a little tired of watching cartoons at Mom’s.”

Paige laughs. “I don’t envy you having to live with those two kids.”

“Seriously,” I agree, knowing that Paige understands. She is the youngest in her family. Her older brother just moved away to go to college this year. Of course, Paige is lucky. Her parents are still together and seem to be happy. “At least they’re going to be at their mom’s all next week so I’ll get a break.”

“Too bad she doesn’t just keep them.”

Relishing the thought, I pop a grape in my mouth and bite down on it allowing the tangy juices to explode in my mouth. Glancing to the left, my gaze once again lands on Tripp. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans, and his brown hair is tousled. Sonya leans over him, giggling about something. My mind travels back to our conversation the night before. I remember the way his eyes glistened in the dim light, and dimples appeared on his cheeks when he smiled.

“So he’s with Sonya now, huh?” Paige asks, and I’m embarrassed that she caught me staring.

“Fitting, isn’t it?” I say bitterly. Paige knows every detail of what happened between Sonya and me.

“It won’t last long. You know Tripp. He doesn’t stay with the same girl for more than a couple weeks.”

I nod, knowing she’s right. Tripp is not really the relationship type. Still it’s unnerving that he’s going out with Sonya at all. Back when she and I were friends she knew about my crush on him. I’m just hoping she doesn’t feel the need to share that information. It’s bad enough that we’re neighbors now. Remembering his words last night about me waiting for him to walk by, I wonder if she’s already told him. I suppose that’s all the more reason why I need to stay as far away from him as possible.

Guys like Tripp Bauer don’t fall
for girls like me. It’s just not the way it works.

“Pizza okay for dinner?” Dad hollers from the kitchen.

“Of course,” I answer back, stretching my legs out on the couch. Honestly, I was surprised when he went into the kitchen to look for something to make. My dad’s house is the quintessential bachelor pad. He lives off of frozen dinners and take out. I’ll admit that when he and Mom split up I worried about him getting proper nutrition. In all the years they were together I never saw him cook. I’m still not entirely sure he’s capable of it. The most I’ve seen him make is grilled cheese and scrambled eggs. 

While Dad dials the pizza place, I click on the TV. It roars to life, and I scan down the menu. Choosing my favorite reality show, I drop the remote and settle back on the couch cushion. Dad’s condo lacks the homey feel of Mom’s place, which is filled with pictures, knick knacks and other feminine touches. At Dad's there are only a couple of pictures on the stark white walls, and the only furniture he has in his family room are a couch, a TV, and end table.  I think he may have a couple framed pictures of me in his room, but other than that no one would even guess he has a single relative. On the end table there is a magazine and a set of coasters, but no candles or books like at Mom’s. Not to mention the fact that I don’t have to worry where I step. The hardwood floors are devoid of toy cars and building blocks. I sigh contentedly, happy that I don’t have to fight with the noise and chaos created by Ainsely and Adam.

Just when I get comfortable, my cell buzzes in my pocket. I yank it out,
glancing down at the text.

Paige:
Having fun at Pop's condo?

I laugh at Paige’s choice of wording. Dad would kill me if I called him Pops.

Me:
Yeah.

“Pep
peroni okay?” Dad asks from the kitchen.

I roll my eyes, wondering how Dad can remember everything about his patients and yet can’t seem to recall what toppings I like on my pizza. “
No, get the Hawaiian one.”

Me: We’re ordering pizza.

Paige: Hawaiian?

Me: U know it.

It’s pretty sad that Paige knows my preferences better than my own father.

Paige: I still don’t understand y u don’t like pepperoni, weirdo.

Me: You’re one to talk, Anchovy
breath.

Paige:
Anchovies are good.

Me: Yuck.

“Hads, the pizza will be here in twenty. I left the money on the kitchen table.”

Dad enters the room
still wearing his khaki slacks and collared shirt from work, his salt and pepper hair falling in a wave over his forehead. “Where are you going?”

“Just into my study to work for a few minutes.”

I nod, knowing that a few minutes will most likely turn into the entire evening. His workaholic tendencies are just one of the many things he and Mom used to fight about endlessly. Sometimes it bothers me that he doesn’t make more time for me while I’m here, but I don’t say anything. Besides, I’m kind of scared of pushing him away. We may have our problems, but I want him in my life.

Plus, I figure i
f he didn’t change for Mom, he certainly isn’t going to change for me. And on the bright side of things, at least it gives me more time to do what I want. Listening to his footsteps retreat down the hallway, I resume my TV watching. It’s one of those dating shows, and my mind wanders down the Tripp path again. I wonder if he’s out with Sonya tonight. Or perhaps she’s shopping for her dress and he’s hanging with his friends. Either way, I’m sure none of them are lame enough to be lounging on their couch on a Friday night watching reality TV and eating pizza. In fact, judging by Sonya’s waist size, I think it’s pretty safe to say that she doesn’t eat pizza. I cringe, glancing down at my pudgy stomach. Perhaps I should cut back on the junk food as well. Not that it will matter. No guys are interested in me, and it has nothing to do with my size. Even if I lose weight, it’s not like I’ll suddenly turn into a boy magnet.

I just don’t live one of those charmed lives. I’m doomed to a life of invisibility, I’m certain of it.

By Sunday afternoon the silence is starting to get to me. At first it was nice, but now I’m getting bored. I scurry down the hardwood floors of the hallway and find
Dad hunched over his desk in the study. His shoulders are stooped, his forehead scrunched together as he concentrates.

I lean against the doorframe. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey.” He glances up at me, blinking behind his glances.

“Do you think you can take me back to Mom’s a little early today?” I clear my throat. “I’ve got some things I need to work on for school
, and the supplies are at Mom’s.” I don’t even know why I feel the need to lie. It’s not like he’s spent any time with me since I’ve been here, but still I don’t want to hurt his feelings.

“Um…yeah…sure.” He pushes back from his desk. “Just give me a minute to grab my keys and stuff.”

“Okay.” I nod.

H
e stops in front of me. “Hads, I’m sorry that I’ve been so preoccupied this weekend.”

This weekend?
How about every weekend that I’m here?
I clamp my mouth shut to keep from blurting out what I’m thinking. Instead, I do exactly what he wants me to. “That’s fine, Dad. I like having time to myself.”

Dad smiles
before brushing past me and making his way down the hallway. Satisfied that I eased his guilty conscience, I head back to my room to grab my things. Within a few minutes Dad is ready to go, and together we pile into his Mini Cooper. The ten minute ride back to Mom’s is quiet with only the sound of Dad’s oldies station playing faintly in the background. I marvel at how I never know what to say to my dad. Apparently he gets paid to listen to people talk, so his patients must not have the same issue I do. When I go to Paige’s house I have no problem talking with her dad. He’s always joking around and encouraging conversation. My dad is usually lost in his own thoughts, and he almost never jokes around. If he did, I think I would be shocked.

Dad turns the corner onto Mom’s street
, and I notice the slight stiffening of his shoulders. Even though he’s never said anything, I can tell that Mom’s marriage to Rob bothers him. It’s funny to me, because the divorce was his idea. But I guess not wanting to be with someone doesn’t necessarily mean you want them to be with someone else. By the time he pulls into Mom’s driveway, the tension practically radiates off of him like the sun on a hot day.

“Thanks, Dad. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

“Yeah, okay,” he answers absently.

I yank my purse off the ground and jump out of the car. Without meaning to, my gaze flits over to Tripp’s house. It’s quiet out front and
the sidewalks are devoid of people. I try not to be disappointed. I mean, it’s not like I want to run into him again. Still, I can’t help but wonder what he’s up to today. And I do kind of like seeing Bruiser. I’ve always wanted a dog of my own, but Mom’s allergic.

Chastising myself for thinking about Tripp at
all, I walk up the driveway toward the front door. The minute I step into the entryway I’m amazed at how clean and quiet it is. Ainsley and Adam’s toys aren’t littering the hallway, and there is no screaming or pounding of tiny feet.

“Hadley? Is that you?” Mom’s voice calls from the back bedroom.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I call back, praying I didn’t walk in on anything between her and Rob. That is seriously the last thing I need right now.

Gratefully, she pops out into the hallway, fully clothed. “You’re back early.”

I notice she doesn’t appear super surprised. “Yeah, I just had some things I needed to do here.”

She nears me, her eyes narrowed. “He didn’t have time for you, huh? Too busy burying himself in work. I swear Hadley, that man
—”

“Mom,” I cut her off, not wanting to turn this into
another dad bashing rant. I make it a point to never talk to either one them about the other. Shortly after they broke up I realized that if I did, I just became like the rope in a tug of war game, being pulled in two different directions. “He was fine. I just wanted to come home.”

“Oh, okay. Well, that’s nice.”

I maneuver around her, and head back to my room.

“That boy was looking for you.”

Freezing, my heart stops. I whirl around. “Tripp?”

She nods.

“He came here and asked for me?”

“Not exactly.” Mom smiles. “But he walked past a couple of times. I saw him through the window
. When he got in front of our house he moved really slowly, and I could tell he was looking for you. I think he might have a little crush on my pretty girl.”

I wince at her choice of wording. I am so not a five year old anymore. Still
, it’s sweet that she thinks I’m pretty. Even though she’s my mom and has to think that. “Mom, he wasn’t looking for me. Trust me on this one.” Heading back to my room, I think over Mom’s words. She has no idea how much I wish that were true, but Mom is clueless about what school is like for me. She was one of the popular girls when she was younger. She was a cheerleader, everyone liked her, and she dated all the football players. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I’m nothing like her — that I’m one of the nerds, the outcasts. Let her think what she wants, but I know the truth. Tripp wouldn’t even be talking to me unless he had an ulterior motive of some kind. And until I know what it is, I can’t let him get close enough to hurt me.

EIGHT

TRIPP

T
he early morning light glints off my windshield as I drive down the street. I squint to see past the bright sunshine. Reaching into my center console, I pull out a pair of sunglasses and put them on.
Much better.
  I turn up the stereo and country music blares through the speakers. The further I drive away from my home, the more relaxed I start to feel. It’s like all the tension and uneasiness slips off my shoulders with each passing mile.

A few miles
from school, I notice a familiar car following behind me. In the rearview mirror I catch sight of Hadley’s long brown hair as she drives the vehicle behind me. I slow down at a stop sign. There are no other cars around on this quiet suburban street, but I take my time.  I wonder if she knows it’s me in front of her. If she does, it probably pisses her off. I get the feeling I’m not her favorite person in the world.

C
huckling to myself, I think about our last couple of encounters. I’ve never met a girl so immune to my charms before. Letting my foot off the gas, I roll forward. In my peripheral vision I think I see something dart out into the street, so I slow down a bit. When it seems that the coast is clear, I press on the gas again. Suddenly I hear a loud crack, and my body lurches forward. At first I think I must’ve hit whatever it was that I thought I saw crossing the street.

But then my gaze flickers to my rearview mirror. Hadley’s car is plastered to mine. She jumps out of her vehicle, a look of horror on her face.
Great. An accident. Just what I need.
Groaning, I
shove open my car door and step out into the crisp morning air. Hadley is already pacing, her eyes moist and her lips quivering. It cuts to my heart. She’s wearing a tight long sleeved shirt, jeans, and a pair of black boots. It’s not her typical outfit, and my gaze lingers on her curves. Usually she hides them under baggy clothes, and at this moment I’m wondering why. She’s not super thin like Sonya, but my body responds to Hadley in a way it never does with Sonya.

“I know I told you that you could get me back, but I was really hoping you’d
use the wad of paper I gave you instead of hitting my car,” I joke, and then instantly regret it when her face pales.

“Oh
, my god. I can’t believe I hit your car,” she says in a whiny voice, so unlike the hard tone she’s used on me in the past. “I am so sorry. It’s just that I thought you went, and then I was changing the radio station.” She puts her head in her hands. “My mom is never going to let me drive her car again. She has lectured me endlessly about the importance of keeping my eyes on the road, and then the one time I don’t this is what happens.”

“Hey, hey
, calm down,” I say in a soothing tone. I’ve never seen her like this. Her face is flushed, and her hands are shaking. She’s totally freaking out.

“I can’t calm down. I’ve been in an accident,” her voice rises.

I study the back of my car. “It’s fine. You barely scratched it. It’s really no big deal.”

“Really?” She peers up at me with a hopeful look. A breeze kicks up and a foreign scent lingers in the air. It’s sort of fruity, like watermelon maybe. But it’s subtle, not overpowering.

My pulse quickens. “Really.”

She nods, biting her lip. “So what do we do now? Aren’t we supposed to call the police or something?” 

“Nah.”  I wave away her words. What I really want to do is sweep her up into an embrace, but I keep my arms pinned to my sides. She doesn’t strike me as the touchy-feely type, and I’m pretty sure if I hugged her she’d try to punch me or something. “Consider us even now.”

She gives
me a disbelieving look. “This is so not the same thing.”

I shrug. “Some might argue that what I did was worse. I mean, your face is more valuable than a car, isn’t it?”

Hadley furrows her brows, like she’s trying to figure out what I’m up to. “Why are you being so nice about this?”

“Maybe I’m just a nicer guy than you think I am, Hadley.”

She snorts. “Yeah, or maybe you’re happy I hit your car because now Daddy’s gonna buy you a new one.”

Anger surges at her words. They couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, I’m sure I’ll pay dearly for her mistake. She has no idea what I’m sacrificing
by letting her off the hook. Glaring at her, I step forward. “You really need to stop spouting off about things you know nothing about.” A car comes up behind us, a man in a business suit at the wheel. I wave him around us, and he speeds past without so much as a backward glance. When I return my attention back to Hadley, she's backing off, her expression softening.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that
,” she says.

I give her a subtle nod. “We better get going. We’re already late for school. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She lifts her head, making eye contact with me. “Thanks, Tripp.”

It’s the sweetest I’ve heard her sound before, and it pierces my heart.  There’s vulnerability in her expression that hasn’t been present in our last few encounters. It causes my breath to hitch in my throat. My gaze l
ands on her glossy lips for a minute, and that’s when I realize where the watermelon scent is coming from. I imagine licking the sweet scent off of her lips.

I clear my throat. “No problem.”

“You’re sure your car’s fine?” she asks before I can turn away.

Walking forward, I run my fingertips along the edge of my bumper and hers. Dad will certainly notice the scratch on mine, and I know I’ll have to answer for it. Standing up, I force a brave smile. “Yep. Hardly even a scratch. No one will ever notice.”

The look of relief on her face makes my lie worth it, no matter what I have to endure because of it.