“Tell me about it,” Alexa drawled. “But by Tuesday—totally yummy. Tyler was getting so jealous the other day when—”
“Tyler?” Her Tyler? Six-feet-two Kenneth Cole addict with a nasty sense of humor and a silver Ferrari?
“Uh, yeah,” Alexa mumbled. “You know we’ve been seeing each other. You know, nothing serious.”
“I don’t know,” Kaia corrected her coolly. “Maybe you should enlighten me.”
“Oh, I already told you all about it. I’m sure of it. You remember—you said you didn’t care?”
It was an utter lie. But pointing that out would violate the code, the code that forbade you to ever admit to caring. Not when you were with a guy, not when the guy moved on to someone else, not when your supposed friends stabbed you in the back.
Kaia didn’t really care about the code—but then again, she didn’t much care about Tyler or Alexa, either. So she let it pass.
“Actually, he’s here right now,” Alexa finally remembered to mention. “Want to say hello? Ooh, Tyler, quit it. I’m on the phone.” There was a series of giggles, then a disconcerting pause during which Alexa and her Harvardbound hottie were doing who knows what, then, “Sorry, I’m back, what were you saying?”
Before Kaia could answer, the doorbell rang—it was like a gift from the gods.
Or possibly the delivery guy, waiting outside with the pizza she’d ordered. Either way, it was a sign.
“I was saying I have to go—hot party to get to,” Kaia lied easily.
“Sure, sure—awesome to talk to you, K, we miss you so much here. Oh, Tyler, for fuck’s sake, quit it. We think about you all the time. No,Tyler, I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to Kaia. Kaia. Tyler, stop it! I mean it!”
“Yeah, miss you, too,” Kaia said dully, her voice drowned out by giggles. She shook her head in disgust and hung up the phone.
Think about her all the time? Yeah, right.
She hated them all for a moment—her parents for forcing her into exile, the friends who’d left her behind even though she was the one who’d left, Harper and her cronies here, who had all the social capital that Kaia had worked so hard to accumulate in her old life. You can’t take it with you, they say.
Ain’t it the truth.
She shuffled down to the front door to collect her pizza and got another unpleasant surprise.
“It’s you,” the scruffy delivery guy grunted when she opened the door.
“Do I know you?” It seemed a highly unlikely—and highly disturbing—prospect.
“We’ve met. I rescued you?” He spoke slowly, his words spaced out as if he were in danger of forgetting which one came next. It was the kind of voice that you imagined saying “yo” or “dude” every other word—so much so that the words almost didn’t need to be said. They were just implied.
Still, it was true, they’d met before. Under the dweebish Guido’s hat and apron was the same grody guy she and Harper had blown off in the Cactus Cantina. And now my night is officially complete, she thought in disgust.
“Oh yeah,” she grudgingly admitted. “What was your name? Weed? Seed?”
“Reed,” he corrected her, glowering. “Hopefully next time you’ll get it right.”
Weed would have been more appropriate, she decided, judging from the smell hovering around him and the glassy look in his eyes. He reeked of pot.
“Hopefully there won’t be a next time,” she retorted.
“Fine with me, princess.”
“I hope you don’t treat all the people you serve in this manner,” Kaia said haughtily.
“Not too many people home to serve on a Saturday night,” he said with a sly smile.
Was he actually criticizing her social life? Or would that be giving him too much credit? Veiled insults take brain power, and Kaia was sure this guy was running on empty. She knew she should just shut the door and go back to her night, lame as it was—but there was something about this guy that held her in place. Maybe it was his deep, dark, intense gaze, or the way his soft lips curled up into a knowing smile—
She shuddered. Surely she hadn’t sunk low enough to be attracted to a guy like this. Raw sex appeal notwithstanding, he was still a delinquent pothead. A delivery boy, she reminded herself. That was it.
“Better sitting at home eating shitty pizza than running around town delivering it like a servant on wheels,” she pointed out, trying not to watch the way his body moved beneath his tight black T-shirt.
“Dude, at least I get paid,” he countered. “If you think about it, you’re kind of paying me to hang out with you.” He snorted and shook his head, as if pitying her. “I can think of better ways to spend my money.”
“You know what? Me too.” She snatched back the couple dollar bills she’d given him for a tip and slammed the door in his face.
“And then he asked you out?” In her excitement, Harper almost dropped the phone. She flopped back onto her bed and kicked her legs in the air in triumph. This could be just the loophole she was looking for.
“He gave me his phone number,” Miranda clarified. “It’s not the same thing.”
Details, details. “Okay, but he basically asked you out. Excellent.”
“Um, were you not paying attention when I described what an annoying loser he was?” Miranda asked. “And did you miss the part where he dumped a bucket of water on my head?”
“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Harper teased her. “Besides, that was just his way of flirting. Maybe he’s a little shy and awkward. I think it’s adorable.”
“Since when do you find shy and awkward adorable?”
Harper’s mind was racing. Sure, now she was betraying Miranda by helping Kane get another girl—if you wanted to look at it that way. But as Harper saw things, Kane had made it painfully clear that he wasn’t interested. Just because she’d sworn a solemn oath to Miranda that she’d do everything she could to make it happen … well, what was she? A magician? It’s not like she had any power over what Kane wanted.
The problem was just that Miranda might not see it that way. So if Miranda found some other guy to lust over in the meantime, someone who actually wanted her in return, and she got swept up in some torrid new romance? Well, she’d stop feeling so shitty about the Kane thing and Harper could stop feeling so guilty.
Problem solved.
“I say you go for it,” Harper urged. “How long has it been since you’ve gone out on a date?”
“Can I plead the fifth?”
“Miranda,” she said warningly.
Miranda sighed. “Okay, okay, too long.”
“And why is that?”
“I don’t know—because I’m fat? Because I have frizzy hair that now looks vaguely like seaweed? Because I’m so short that a guy has to fall over me before he notices I exist?”
“Shut up, loser,” Harper snorted. “You know none of those things are true. Plenty of guys ask you out.”
“Sucky guys.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about—you’re too picky. They can’t all suck.”
“Oh, trust me—”
“No, I don’t trust you. You’ve got these impossibly high standards that no guy could ever measure up to and then you complain about being alone. I’m tired of it.”
“So I’m supposed to have no standards?” Miranda asked.
“No, you’re just supposed to be realistic. To take a chance once in a while on someone who’s not one hundred percent perfect.”
“I don’t think Kane’s perfect—”
Harper rolled her eyes, glad Miranda couldn’t see her through the phone. This was getting pathetic.
“Great. So there’s one guy in all these years who measures up. You think maybe it’s time to branch out a little?”
“Why are you yelling at me?” Miranda asked in a small voice.
“I’m sorry.” Harper took a deep breath. “I’m not yelling. I just want you to be happy, Rand. So what if this guy’s not the one? So what i
f he’s not as hot or as charming as the Great and Powerful Kane? You don’t have to marry him—just go out with him a couple times. Think of it as practice. And who knows,” she continued, hating herself for it, “maybe you’ll even make Kane jealous. You know guys always want what they can’t have.” She knew that was one idea Miranda would find impossible to resist.
“Okay … you got me. I’ll do it. I’ll call Greg and ask him to dinner.”
“Fabulous.” Harper grinned and looked out her window toward Adam’s bedroom. She wondered what he was thinking about right now. Probably Beth. But even that wasn’t enough to deflate her mood. “Good luck, not that you need it.”
Miranda sighed.
“Thanks for the reality check, Harper. You’re the best.”
Harper hung up the phone and gave herself a mental pat on the back for a job extremely well done. Miranda would be distracted (and, as an added bonus, maybe even happy), leaving Harper free and clear to pursue her own agenda. Guilt free.
Was Harper the best?
Damn right.
Beth slammed her hand on the dining room table as another paper airplane whizzed past her head.
“Adam, give it a rest, I’m trying to concentrate.”
“Okay, okay.” He bent down over his book again and there was a moment of blessed silence. But then, just when Beth had almost wrapped her head around the variables in a monstrously complicated word problem, a tiny ball of paper flew onto her book. When she looked up in irritation, another one hit her squarely in the forehead.
“Jesus, Adam, what are you, twelve years old?”
“What? I’m just trying to have some fun. You can’t tell me you’re not bored out of your mind.”
“That’s not the point,” she snapped. “The SATs are in less than two weeks, and I need to get through this. I thought you did too—isn’t that what you said?”
Actually, Adam had called to report his latest swimming victory, suggesting they go out on the town to celebrate. It was a huge moment for him—the swim team was going to the regional championships for the first time in a decade, and it was all thanks to Adam. Beth would have liked nothing more than to spend the night celebrating, to enjoy the fact that she was in love with such an amazing guy. But … she just didn’t have the time. She’d set aside the night for SAT studying, and she couldn’t break her schedule. Not this close to the test. Not even for Adam. But when she’d told him that, he hadn’t gotten angry, or sulky, or any of the other reactions she’d expected. Instead, he’d invited himself over. A study date, just the two of them.
“I need to study,” she’d warned him, wary that she’d be too distracted by his charming smile and silky blond hair.
“Hey, I’m taking the test too,” he’d pointed out. “Don’t I need to study?”
She’d been skeptical—but, after all, she’d been begging him all along to take the SATs more seriously. Who was she to object when he finally took her advice?
They had set up shop at the dining room table and, after a couple minutes of small talk, lowered their heads over their books.
For about five minutes. And then his attention span ran out.
The last hour had been insanely frustrating, as she tried to keep her concentration and her temper. But she wasn’t having much luck with either.
“I just thought we could take a little break,” he whined, squirming under her disapproving gaze. “Have a little fun.”
“There’s no time for fun—not now,” Beth said, gesturing at the intimidating piles of books, notebooks, and flashcards that lay scattered across the table. She hated the way she sounded, like such a humorless stick in the mud. But it was partly his fault—if he wasn’t always such a baby, she wouldn’t always have to be such a nag. It’s not like she enjoyed playing the role. “Why can’t you understand that?”
“Maybe because you seem to have plenty of time when it comes to Kane,” he said sulkily.
“Is that what this is all about? Is that why you’re here?” Beth sighed in exasperation. How had Adam gotten so disconnected from the things that really mattered to her, enough so that he couldn’t understand the most important things in her life? Instead, they just had to have this same pointless conversation over and over again. Maybe that was what happened when you stopped talking, she thought sadly. You ran out of new things to say. “Are you really that jealous?”
“I’m not jealous at all,” he said hotly. “I just don’t understand what the deal is with the two of you.”
“I told you—he cares about doing well,” Beth insisted. “He wants my help.”
“That’s not all he wants,” Adam muttered.
“What was that?” she asked sharply.
“I just think you need to ask yourself why he wants to spend so much time with you. Why are you so sure that he cares so much about the test?”
She stiffened—it infuriated her when he implied that the only thing she had to offer the world was her body. Why was he so convinced that all anyone could ever want from her was sex? Maybe because it was all he wanted? As always, she tried to suppress the fear—but these days, it never disappeared for long.
“Oh, I don’t know—maybe because when I study with Kane, he actually works hard,” she pointed out, and it was absolutely true. “He doesn’t sit there fidgeting, throwing paper airplanes, and ignoring everything I say unless it’s about football or TV Now … who does that sound like to you?”
“Fine!” he said in a loud, sulky voice, looking away. “You caught me. I don’t give a shit about this stupid test. I just wanted to spend some time with my girlfriend. Lock me up and throw away the key.”
She shushed him and glanced down the hall—her mother was trying to sleep a bit before working a night shift, and the last thing Beth needed was to wake her up. They both held still for a moment, waiting—but no sound came from the bedroom. They were safe. And in the quiet pause, Beth’s anger had seeped away. She closed her book, then reached over and closed Adam’s, too.
“Adam, listen to me. You have nothing to worry about.”
“You don’t know Kane …”
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. But I know myself,” she said urgently. “You know me. Whatever it is you think he’s after, he’s not going to get it.”
Adam looked down and didn’t respond.
“You trust me, right?”
“I do, of course I do, it’s just that—”
“Look. Remember last month, when you were spending all that time with Kaia?” she asked.
A wary, panicked look flashed across Adam’s face. “Yes …”
“And I was insanely jealous?”
“That’s right, you were,” he said triumphantly, vindicated.
“And you got mad, because I didn’t trust you—and you were right.”
He looked down again, deflated.
“I should have trusted you,” Beth told him, “because I know you’d never do anything to hurt me.”
“I never would,” he said urgently. “Beth, you know that. I love you.”
“And I love you.” She leaned across the table and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. “And you just have to trust that. Okay?”
“So what now?” he asked.
She laughed. “Now you get out of here and let me get my work done so that I can see you another time. Without the stupid books.”
He rolled his eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, coming around to her side of the table and massaging her shoulders. As always, she melted beneath his warm and sure touch. “Because you might want to keep me around—I tend to come in handy.”
She swatted him with her notebook. “Don’t tempt me,” she begged. “Now come on, get out.”
He shrugged and turned to go. But he didn’t get very far.
“Okay, come back,” she cried. “ You got me—one more kiss.”
It was a long one.
Adam drove home. With the sweet taste of Beth still fresh on his lips—and the image of her in Kane’s arms still fresh on
his mind. He knew Kane—the guy got anything he wanted. Anything. Anyone. Adam had to work for everything he got; but for Kane, victory came easy. And it came often.
Beth could deny it all she wanted—she could beg him to trust her a hundred times. But he couldn’t help what he knew, and what he knew was that sometimes being in love, being trustworthy just isn’t enough. Yes, he remembered back when he was spending all that time with Kaia. He’d sworn to Beth a million times that nothing would ever happen. And he’d meant it.
And it’s not like he was some horrible person, he reminded himself. Kaia had just been there—the wrong girl, in the right place at the right time. He hadn’t been able to stop himself. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure he could blame himself—it had all seemed so inevitable. Sometimes, despite the best of intentions, things just happened.
And that’s what he was afraid of.
chapter
8
That night, it seemed like sleep would never come.
Beth lay in bed, her body drained of energy, her mind spinning in circles, refusing to slow, refusing to relax. When had her life gotten so complicated? And what did it mean that the things that should have made her happy were the ones keeping her awake?
And, as long as she was asking meaningless questions that she’d never be able to answer, if she was so in love with her boyfriend, why did she sometimes wish he was someone else?
I wish I were someone else, she thought wistfully. Someone who didn’t care so much about always doing the right thing and getting the job done, someone who wasn’t overwhelmed by commitments and responsibilities to everyone in her life. Someone who wasn’t tied down to the same guy, day in and day out, her mind whispered. To trade lives with someone, just for a day—was that so much to ask?
What would it be like, she wondered, to have Kaia’s life? Not her striking beauty, or her wealth—though at the thought of a life free of skimping, saving, and scrounging, free of bussing tables at the diner and watching her parents drag themselves home from work at three a.m., Beth often felt a sharp pang of jealousy. There were people who lived life without struggling for every dollar. She’d accepted that she wasn’t one of them—and while she didn’t care as much as she used to, she cared. A lot. But looks, money, clothes, those were just things, possessions—Beth didn’t want to have what Kaia had, she wanted, at least sometimes, secretly, late at night, to be who Kaia was. Beth often watched her out of the corner of her eye, marveling at the girl who seemed to float above the fray, skimming across the surface of life, never getting her feet dirty. It was such an alien frame of mind that Beth couldn’t imagine how the world must seem to her. But on nights like this, she longed for it.