“Whose idea was it to visit the psychic, anyway?” Jenna asked as we trudged back to our room.
“I think it was Amber’s.”
“Talk about a fun idea going bad.”
“It is a little…eerie, though.”
“Yeah, but at least I didn’t see the tattoo until after I’d fallen for Tank, so my feelings about him are my own. Do you ever worry that what you feel for Brady is because of the reading? I mean, would you have noticed him if you hadn’t been looking for a red Chiefs cap?”
“I wasn’t looking for a red Chiefs cap.”
“Okay, you weren’t looking, but when you saw it—I saw your jaw drop, so I know he caught your attention. Would you have noticed him without the reading?”
“Yeah, I think I would have.” I sighed. “But I might not have shot up my defenses so fast. Or maybe I would have. I don’t know, Jenna. I just really don’t want a guy in my life right now.”
“At least you’re not totally avoiding him and flying back home.”
“That would be a bit extreme, especially since I really do want to be here.”
Jenna smiled at me. I gave her a weary smile back. To say I was exhausted was an understatement. We’d worked harder and longer today than yesterday. On top of that, dealing with Amber’s hysterics—
“Dibs on the shower,” I muttered.
I wanted the shower first, last, and always. It felt so wonderful to get all the grit and grime off. Amber had hit the shower as soon as we’d gotten back to the room. When she’d come out, she’d gone immediately into frantic I’ve-got-to-get-out-of-here mode. And Jenna and I had gone into intervention mode. A lot of good that had done.
I guess, being alone with her thoughts, Amber hadn’t liked where she and Sean were going.
I was too tired to think of anything except how great the shower felt. And if Jenna wasn’t a friend, I probably wouldn’t have cared about using up all the hot water.
The bathroom was steamy by the time I was finished; the mirror fogged. Not that I needed a mirror when I only planned to comb the tangles out my hair. When that was done, I massaged my peach-scented body lotion on my legs, arms, and hands. I’d picked up a few scratches on my arms, even though I’d tried to be careful. But nothing serious.
I slipped on cotton boxers and a tank. I was ready to fall into bed and fall asleep.
When I opened the bathroom door, the only light in the room came from the bathroom behind me.
Jenna rolled off her bed and walked toward me, holding her cell phone out. “Here.”
“What’s that?”
“Phone.”
“I know that. I mean, who is it?”
“Brady.”
“You were talking to Brady?”
“No, I was talking to Tank, but Brady wanted to talk to you when you finally got out of the bathroom. Did you even leave me any hot water?” She took my hand and wrapped my fingers around her phone. “He doesn’t have your phone number. Keep talking until I’m finished with my shower.”
She closed the door, leaving me in the dark except for the phone’s little bit of indigo glow. I stumbled to the bed, sat down, and stared at the phone for a minute like it was the snake that had slithered out from beneath one of the boards we’d moved that afternoon. Some guy had used a shovel to kill it, and we’d all heard a lecture from Sara about how we should live in harmony with all creatures. The dead snake had upset her. Personally I didn’t have a problem with killing anything that slithered and stuck its tongue out at me.
And why did I have to talk to Brady until Jenna got out of the bathroom? It wasn’t like she didn’t already have Tank’s number programmed into her phone, so she could call him back. What about I really don’t want to get involved with anyone this summer did she not understand?
I moved the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey.”
His voice was as sultry as the Louisiana night. I could almost hear the crickets chirping and the bullfrogs croaking in a bayou. Oh, wait. That could have been them outside the dorm window, since quite a bit of water surrounded the Crescent City.
“You okay?” he asked. “You sound kinda dazed.”
“Nah, just totally relaxed after a hot shower.”
Which suddenly seemed like a really personal thing to say to him. Maybe he was thinking the same thing, because he didn’t say anything. It was definitely a conversation stopper.
“So, uh, Jenna said you wanted to talk to me?”
“Yeah. I, uh…this is awkward.”
“What?”
“Well, Sean said that Amber’s heading home because she has a boyfriend.”
“How does he know that?”
“She called him from the airport. Upset. It was strange.”
I imagined it was. But Amber was my friend. I wasn’t going to call her strange.
“Well, anyway,” Brady continued, “I just—it’s just that I didn’t even think to ask, but do you have a boyfriend?”
My heart thudded, because why would he ask unless he was interested? Who was I kidding? He’d kissed me. And we’d hung out a little.
All I had to do was say yes, and he’d move on. Instead, I heard myself telling him the truth. “No.”
“Okay.”
What did that mean? I wished we were talking face to face so I could see what he was thinking.
The silence stretched out between us. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Okay?” I repeated. “What do you mean by that?”
“Just okay. Now I know you don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” I responded quickly. I felt like I’d been tricked into revealing something, but I didn’t know what. “I mean why would I care? We’re just here for the summer, working, having a little fun.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
But I felt like something had shifted, and I wasn’t sure what.
The door opened. Mist, light, and the scent of strawberry shower gel wafted out.
“Jenna’s ready to take back her phone,” I said, hating that I sounded so relieved. Hating even more that I wasn’t relieved at all. Should I give him my number? Should I ask for his? Did I even want to continue this conversation?
“See you tomorrow,” Brady said.
“Yeah.”
I held the phone out to Jenna. “Thanks.”
She took the phone, reached back, and turned out the bathroom light. She was whispering quietly as she crawled into bed.
I slipped beneath the sheet and blankets. We’d turned the thermostat on the air conditioner way down and now that I didn’t have Brady’s voice to keep me warm, I was feeling the chill of the room.
Maybe it was because I was sleeping in the bed that Amber had been sleeping in, but I kept thinking about her telling me that I needed to climb back in the saddle. And I kept thinking of climbing in the saddle with Brady.
Because it was going to be a very long and lonely summer if I didn’t take some action. Now that Amber was gone and Jenna was practically glued to Tank, I was going to be spending a lot of time alone. Unless I wanted to hang out with Ms. Wynder. And I wasn’t sure that was even an option because I’d seen her near the porta-potties laughing with John. And no one laughs near porta-potties, so I had a feeling something was going on there.
Suddenly I realized that it was really quiet in the room. That I couldn’t hear Jenna whispering anymore. I heard her bed creak as she shifted on it.
“Dawn?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“You still awake?”
I smiled in the dark. “Nah, I’m talking in my sleep.”
She released a small laugh. “You’re so funny.”
No, not usually.
“Listen,” she began, “in the morning I’m going to go have breakfast with Tank at Café Du Monde. Wanna come? It’s one of those places you should eat at once in your life.”
/> “Did Tank tell you that?”
“No, actually, my dad told me that he wanted me to eat there. He said Jimmy Buffett mentions it in one of his songs and Dad’s a huge Jimmy Buffett fan, so he told me to go eat some beignets on him.” She laughed. “Actually everything I eat is on him since he’s the one who gave me the money for this trip. So, anyway, do you want to come?”
“Is it going to be just you and Tank?” Not that her answer should really affect my decision but still—
“No, Brady will be there for sure. Maybe Sean. So what do you think?”
I rolled onto my side. I couldn’t really see her because of the darkness, but it made it easier to talk to her. “Jenna, if I keep doing stuff with him, he’s going to think I’m interested.”
“I’m going to keep seeing Tank.”
It wasn’t like Jenna to be this determined.
“But I want to spend time with you, too,” she said. “I’m just talking about you going to get a doughnut with us. So what if Brady is there? Big deal.”
“I thought it was a beignet.”
“Beignet, doughnut—same thing. We wanted to have fun this summer, didn’t we?”
Yeah, we did. We’d wanted to do some good, but we’d also wanted some adventure, some laughs, some memories. It was our first summer away from home. Where was my adventuresome spirit?
“Okay,” I said. “Yeah, I’m in. Totally.”
She didn’t take offense that I sounded resigned instead of overjoyed. She just said, “Great.”
Yeah, I thought, as I rolled back over and closed my eyes.
Great.
Chapter 11
I’d expected to sleep like a rock, or a log, or something heavy and inanimate. Instead I woke up while it was still dark and couldn’t go back to sleep.
I crawled out of bed, grabbed my clothes from the chair where I’d left them the night before, and crept into the bathroom. Once I closed the door, I turned on the light and got dressed as quietly as I could. Today I was going to wear coveralls over a tube top. Coveralls had seemed like a building-house-kinda-thing to wear, but now I was wondering if maybe they’d be too hot. At least my shoulders would be cool.
And bare. Maybe a little sexy.
Oh no, I was thinking about Brady again. I didn’t want to do things to get his attention.
I don’t know how long I sat on the edge of the tub and worried about how I could spend time with Jenna, without getting in over my head with Brady. A sudden rap on the door startled me. I nearly fell backward into the tub. Just what I needed—to start the day with a concussion.
“You okay in there?” Jenna asked.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” I got up and opened the door. “I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you.”
She yawned. “Ow. I can barely move this morning. Working with a crowbar was harder work than I thought.”
She stumbled into the bathroom as I walked out.
“Call Ms. Wynder and tell her we’re going to breakfast with some friends,” she said before shutting the door.
“You think she’s up?” I called through the door.
“Oh yeah.”
I called Ms. Wynder. She was indeed up, sounding way too bright and cheery for that time of day. She said she was fine with us doing breakfast elsewhere, and she’d see us at the site.
When Jenna came out of the bathroom, we grabbed our backpacks and headed outside.
The dorm was a square, uninteresting brick building, part of a campus that had survived the storm. It was early morning but humidity already hung heavy in the air.
Parked at the front of the drive, in a no-parking zone, was the black Civic. Our two guys were leaning against it—one against the hood, one against the trunk—arms crossed over their chests. Totally sexy pose. Rebels, I thought, and my heart did a little stutter. What was I getting myself into?
“Hey,” Tank said as we got nearer.
“Hey, yourself,” Jenna said, practically skipping to his side.
He grinned at her. No kiss. No hug. But it seemed to be enough for her as she slid into the front passenger seat, and it probably was. After all, he hadn’t tattooed her name on his arm yet. I suddenly wondered if he would someday.
Then I wondered if maybe that was where I’d made my mistake. I always wanted things to happen fast. Drew and I were a steady item after that first date. I’d never questioned where the relationship was going; I’d just followed where it had seemed to lead. Now I was trying to question everything.
Brady just grinned at me, tapped the brim of my “Life Is Good” cap. “You ever not wear that thing?” he asked.
I touched the brim of his. “Same goes.”
“Yeah, but I use mine to hide a bald spot. You got a bald spot under there that I need to know about?”
“No. Do you? I mean really? Bald?”
He laughed. “Nah. At least not yet. Someday. If I take after my dad.”
“I think bald men are sexy.”
I don’t know what made me say that.
“Really?” he asked, opening the door to the backseat.
“Really.” I climbed inside, scooted across, and he got in.
“Like who?” he asked. “Give me a name.”
“Bruce Willis.”
“Is he shaved or bald?”
“Is there a difference?”
“Oh yeah. Shaved you have a choice. Bald you don’t.”
“How bald is your dad?” I asked.
“Pretty bald.”
“Bet he’s pretty sexy.”
“Yeah, and what do you base that assumption on?” His grin was cocky, almost a dare.
And I almost responded with “you.” But that would have taken the flirting to a whole new level, and I wasn’t even sure that I should be flirting.
Instead I looked out the window as Tank drove along the street. “Looks like it’s gonna be another scorcher today.”
It was my dad’s equivalent of Mom’s “I think I left the iron on.” A detour in the conversation.
Brady laughed and leaned back in the corner. I could feel him studying me, and I wondered what he was thinking. The easiest way to find out would be to ask. But I didn’t.
We couldn’t find a parking spot near Café Du Monde, so we parked several streets over and walked. Although it was early, people were queued up on the sidewalk. A very small portion of the restaurant was indoor seating. Most of the seating was outdoors, some beneath a roof, some beneath a large green-and-white striped canopy.
As we waited in line, Jenna was nestled against Tank’s side, and they were doing that quiet talking thing they did. I couldn’t figure out how two such tall people could talk so quietly. And Tank wasn’t only tall, he was broad. He was wearing a tank top today and the muscles of his arms rippled and when they did, so did the dragon on his shoulder that was peering out beneath his shirt.
“Like his ink?” Brady asked.
“Oh, gosh, I was staring, wasn’t I? That was rude.”
He shrugged. “It’s an unusual piece. He goes to a guy who does original artwork, so nothing he’s ever tattooed on anyone has ever been put on anyone else.”
“That’s cool. I’ve never heard of that. I thought you just looked in a catalogue and picked out the one you wanted.”
“You can do it that way. But Tank—he never follows the crowd.”
“Do you have any tattoos?” Was that question too personal? If he did, they were well hidden because I hadn’t noticed any the couple of times I’d seen him without his shirt.
Brady shook his head. “Nah. Been thinking about it, but I don’t know if there’s anything I’d want forever. I mean, how do I know I won’t change my mind? How ’bout you?”
“I did a temporary one once. A peel-on wash-off.”
He grinned. “How did that work for you?”
“Not too bad, except I got it out of a machine, like a bubblegum machine, and so I just had to take what it dispensed. It was a skull with a snake coming out of the ey
e socket. Gross. But I was fourteen, and for a quarter, it was a great deal.”
“Where’d you put it?”
“On my wrist.”
He looked disappointed, like maybe he’d been fantasizing about it being someplace really personal. And that made me feel very unadventuresome.
“Hey, I had to put it someplace I could reach,” I explained.
“Very unimaginative,” he said. “Next time you want a tat, I’ll help you put it someplace you can’t reach.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Like where?”
“Your hip, maybe. Someplace so it just peeks out over the waistband of your jeans.”
I got warm just thinking about him applying the tattoo. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if he was actually putting it on. I really wanted—needed—to talk about something else.
“So where’s Sean?”
“He hooked up with Sara.”
I stared at him. “The psychic?”
Brady grinned. “Yeah. Is that a problem?”
“No, I just”—I shivered—“I don’t know if I’d want to be involved with someone who could read my mind.”
“Do psychics read minds?” he asked.
“I don’t know. They read something. All that paranormal stuff just seems to mesh together. I don’t know if there’s a line that distinguishes what a person can or can’t do.”
“She seems nice anyway.”
“Oh, well, yeah. I mean, she doesn’t seem evil or anything.” Then something else occurred to me. I scoffed and muttered, “She didn’t have to leave.”
“Huh?”
“Amber—she, well, she didn’t have to leave. If she’d known Sean was interested in Sara—”
“I don’t think he was interested. He was just bummed out because Amber left, so we hit some bars last night.” He shrugged. “Sara was at one of them.”
“Oh.”
So had he turned to Sara because he’d been heartbroken? That made me sad. Why did love—or even just liking someone—have to be so complicated?
We finally got to the front of the line. It was an unorganized type of organization, and I wasn’t at all sure how the staff remembered who had been waited on and who hadn’t.