Chapter Seven
After my run-in with the Cheshire girls, I tried to wait up until Carley got home. I wanted to fill her in on everything and see what she thought, because she knew everyone around here better than I did.
I put the groceries away and sat down to watch TV, but instead of staying up for Carley, I must have fallen asleep on the couch. That's where I woke up the next morning with a blanket over me and the television turned off. I had no idea when Carley had come home.
The soft sound of rain against the windows was the only noise in the house. I sat up and stretched. Sleeping sideways on the couch wasn't comfortable.
I got up and went to my room to shower and change. When I came back down to the kitchen I could hear Carley making breakfast.
"Good morning," she called, hearing my steps on the stairs.
"Hey," I said, walking into the kitchen. She was still dressed in her PJs. I still wanted to talk to her about the Cheshire girls.
"Why'd you fall asleep on the couch?" she asked as she got both of us bowls of Honey Bunches of Oats.
"You wouldn't believe the night I had," I told her, picking up my spoon and starting to eat.
"What? Tell me now," she said, sitting down.
I told her everything. I hadn't had a chance to talk to her about Holt and Samuel both coming into the coffee shop and what they had said, so I also told her that. And I told her all about my walk home and the Cheshire girls confronting me.
Carley sat through my whole story without saying a word. At particularly important points she might make a little gasp and her eyes would go wide, but that was it. When I had finished, she was outraged. She stood up and paced around the kitchen, ranting about people who thought they were better than others. "Who are they to tell you that you can't see him? The nerve" was something she said at least five times before I got another word in. She also totally disagreed with me that Samuel openly disliked me, but I knew that was only because she was too busy batting her eyelashes and making a pouty face at him to notice his open hatred.
I wanted to laugh, but I was glad my friend was outraged on my behalf.
"Weren't you angry yesterday that I was talking to them?" I asked.
She stopped pacing. "I just think it's odd . . . I mean, why you?" she asked. "They've gone all these years happily ignoring us and suddenly they're following you around town like lovesick puppies. WTF?"
"I wouldn't say that's what they're doing," I replied, blushing furiously. "Holt and I just hung out once." And he clearly just wants to be friends. If that.
"Yeah, okay," said Carley, rolling her eyes. "The point is, those girls had no business telling you to stay away from Holt, and if they were going to do that why not tell you to stay away from Samuel as well?"
"I have no idea. They've obviously decided they don't like me, so I'd think they'd want me to stay away from Samuel more than they'd care about Holt. In the caf? yesterday Leslie glared at Holt when he started talking to me," I said thoughtfully. It really didn't make sense.
"And Holt wouldn't tell you anything?" she asked.
I shook my head. "He apologized, but said there was stuff he couldn't tell me. He refuses to answer a lot of my questions."
"Maybe he's betrothed," Carley suggested. "To one of the Cheshires."
I stared at her. It was something I hadn't thought of. Actually, I really had no idea why he'd have to stay away from me while Samuel didn't, except that maybe it made sense if he was involved with a Cheshire.
"Why wouldn't he just say that? And why wouldn't they act like a couple?" I asked reasonably. "Plus, we just hung out once and they're getting pissed."
"I don't know. Maybe they don't actually like each other or something," said Carley.
"It's the twenty-first century. Stuff like betrothals doesn't happen anymore," I scoffed.
"How do you know? There are seven billion people in the world. Do you know all of them?" Carley demanded.
"Don't be annoying," I said primly, finishing my cereal and trying not to think about Holt engaged.
"Anyhow, are you okay?" asked Carley. "Don't let those girls get to you. Obviously they're prettier than their manners."
"No, it's fine," I said. "I'll ignore them. What could they possibly do to me anyway?"
"I mean, they could probably do lots if they wanted to . . ." She grinned when I threw the dishtowel at her. "Holt told them to leave me alone. I have a feeling they'll listen."
"Anyway, my night was boring," Carley said, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and sitting on the counter while I finished the dishes. She told me all about dinner with her parents' friends. "They have two kids under ten who are both apparently complete terrors. They like to hide on each other and then leap out and attack. The parents have to separate them. Actually, it sounds a lot like me and Charlie."
I laughed. Once she'd finished talking about her night, she glanced outside at the steady rain that was still coming down. "Anyway," she said, "Nick was going to come over in a bit. My mom wants me to clean and stuff and Nick offered to help, but I think we might just play cards. You can see what he thinks about those Cheshire girls, although I warn you he's a guy and will probably just say they're hot."
"Sounds good," I said.
We didn't have long to wait. Five minutes after I was done with dishes the doorbell rang. Before either of us could get to the door, Nick's voice called, "Hey, you home?"
"In the kitchen," Carley called.
Nick came down the hallway looking damp. His hair was covered in a fine slick of water like droplets on a window, and the edges of his long-sleeved T and the bottoms of his jeans were wet.
"How's the weather?" I asked, grinning.
"I love driving in downpours," he replied sarcastically.
"Cards?" Carley asked.
"Samuel's coming over," said Nick cheerfully. "He called me this morning and I told him I was heading here and invited him to tag along." Nick was now looking from one to the other of us in confusion, as we'd both uttered horrified gasps at almost the exact same instant.
"What's the problem?" he asked, bewildered.
Carley looked at me as if she didn't want to tell anything she shouldn't. Not knowing how much time I had before Samuel got here, I filled Nick in on what had happened with the Cheshire girls the night before.
"Well, so what? You aren't hanging out with Holt. You're hanging out with Samuel. And we'll be here. He doesn't hate you," said Nick, shrugging it off.
"Yeah, but he must know what happened with his cousins," I said desperately. "And he does hate me!"
"He wouldn't be coming over if he hated you," Carley pointed out unhelpfully.
"The Cheshires are used to getting their way. So are the Roths," said Nick. "Every time the Roths have gone to the Castleton Planning Board because they wanted to change this or that about their property lines or anything else, the town caved. Every. Time. The Cheshires are the same way. I know it doesn't sound like a big deal, but everyone in the town does what they want. If they don't want you to hang out with Holt, they will make your life a living hell until they get their way."
Carley couldn't have cared less about their influence on the town. "Personally, I think Holt's hotter, but not by much."
Nick made a strangled noise. Carley didn't notice.
Before I could answer, my phone rang. I hopped off the counter and grabbed it. It was a local number, but not one I recognized.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi, Autumn?" asked a familiar voice.
"Holt! How'd you get this number," I asked.
"Carley gave it to me yesterday when I asked. I hadn't been planning on calling you for the first time when you were mad at me, though," he said drily.
I wanted to laugh, but I managed to hold my tongue. He wasn't going to joke his way out of this. Not without some explanations.
"Okay, what do you want?" I asked. I looked from Nick to Carley, who were watching me with interest.
"Just to talk
," he responded. "Want to get dinner? Maybe do something earlier?"
"I'm busy now," I said. "Samuel's going to come over."
I didn't know why I said that. I guess I just wanted to piss Holt off.
It worked. There was a long silence on the other end of the line. "So, is that a no to dinner?" he asked. His voice sounded so sad.
"Dinner's fine," I said.
"I'll see you at seven, then," he said, and hung up.
I immediately turned to glare at Carley.
She was grinning. "He's just so cute!" she finally broke down and squealed.
Nick was saved from exploding by the doorbell. "I'll get it," he said, muttering something under his breath about how complicated girls are.
"Are you two coming?" Nick called from the living room. I followed Carley down the hall. Samuel was standing by the sofa, looking as good as ever, all black hair and blue eyes. Even though it was wet and rainy out he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt today, because somehow guys are never cold.
"Hey," said Carley. "Can I get you anything? Soda? Iced tea? Water?"
"Water would be great," said Samuel, sitting on the couch. Nick took a seat on the other couch, which left me to decide if I wanted to sit next to Nick or Samuel. I chose Nick.
"Hey, Autumn," said Samuel. I could tell from the flush of color on his face that he knew what had happened the night before. I wondered who had told him. Had his cousins gone home and said that they had threatened me? Maybe I had it all wrong and Samuel had ordered them to follow and scare me. What if Samuel had told them to tell me to stay away from Holt? What if he didn't feel bad about it at all? I knew that didn't make sense, though. Lydia and Leslie didn't exactly look like they were in charge of Samuel, but for some reason they definitely had an influence over him.
Still, I got angry all over again.
"So, I saw your family last night," I said. I'd been planning on letting things settle down before I brought it up, or waiting to see if he would, but the idea that he was sending girls out to do his bidding made me really angry.
Nick, who was next to me dealing out cards for a game of Hearts, paused. Samuel, who was just accepting the glass of water Carley was offering him, looked at me, his blue eyes impossible to read.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," he said. His tone was slow and careful, but it wasn't very sorry. He didn't look at me.
"Did you tell them to do it?" I asked, frowning.
He genuinely looked surprised. "No, I didn't, but I thought they might do something like that." Carley gave a small gasp of surprise. I finally accepted the cards Nick had been trying to hand me for the last three or four breaths and tried to get myself under control.
"You don't mind it when people you know threaten me?" I asked, randomly shuffling the cards in my hand.
"It wasn't meant to be a threat. More a suggestion," said Samuel. Now he really did sound sorry, but I wasn't sure for what. "Leslie can get a little out of hand, but she means well."
I started to fume, but before I could say anything Nick came to my defense. "It's not really friendly when two people corner one." Carley remained silent. I knew she was too in awe of Samuel to support me outright, which made me even angrier.
"Well, I don't like it when people follow me around at night and make 'suggestions' to me. What are you people, vampires?" I asked. Of course I didn't believe in that nonsense, but maybe accusing him of something so absurd would get him to cave and give me some information.
"No," said Samuel, getting irritated himself. "They were just looking out for your best interests, since you seem to have no idea what those are yourself, and I agree with them."
"You don't even know me or like me," I said, shooting at my feet. "You have no idea what my best interests are."
"I know more than you think and definitely much more than you yourself," said Samuel.
"And why, exactly, is Holt so bad for me?" I demanded.
"You wouldn't understand," said Samuel wearily.
"Look, I don't know what's going on between you and Holt. Maybe he beat you at football one too many times, but leave me out of it. If I want to be friends with both of you - or neither - I will." I threw my cards down and glared around the room at no one in particular. "Let me know when he's gone," I said to Carley, and darted away before anyone else could say anything.
If I had stayed I would have heard Samuel mutter that he didn't play football.
But I stomped up the stairs and slammed into my room, throwing myself on my bed in dramatic fashion for no one to see but me. I wanted to beat my pillow, or scream into it, but I didn't. I just needed to know what was going on. All I had meant to do was make some friends around here. How was I supposed to know that the two new friends I had made hated each other?
I picked up a book and tried to read. There was no way I was going back downstairs. After a long while there were footsteps outside my room and then a soft tap.
"Can I come in?" Samuel called. I rolled my eyes behind my book, but told him he could.
He opened the door cautiously and looked around it at me. "Why are you just standing there?" I asked.
"I'm a little worried that you might throw something at me," he replied.
In spite of myself I grinned a little.
"How'd you know where my room was?" I asked.
"Carley told me it would be the only one with the door closed," said Samuel. Coming all the way into the room, he sat in my one chair while I sat cross-legged on my bed. A slight cold breeze followed him in and I shivered a little.
"Look," he said, rubbing his forehead. "I'm sorry about before. You're right. I shouldn't tell you who to hang out with and neither should my family. My relationship with the Roths is . . . complicated, that's all."
I knew in my gut that he was telling the truth, but too much had happened for me to let him off the hook too easily, so I said, "Well, people can do harm without meaning to. It happens all the time."
Samuel sighed, fidgeting with the armrest. "I know, and I'm sorry." Even though he had sat about as far away from me as he could, this was the first time he'd chosen to be in the same room and look at me.
"But, you can go a long way to fixing it by telling me what it is between you and the Roths," I said brightly. Samuel let out a surprised laugh. He had a nice laugh, but not as nice as Holt's, I thought, then pushed that thought away. Holt wouldn't even touch me.
Since when did I become something to fight over, anyway? My dad would be shocked that boys were even interested in me, much less fighting over me. He still thought I was twelve.
"Look, I really can't explain everything. It goes back kind of a long way and it's really complicated," he said.
"I'm fine with kind of a long way," I said. "Plus, I have time."
"When I say long way I mean really long," said Samuel.
I thought about how I was always bored in history class, but for some reason I didn't think listening to the history of the Roths and the Cheshires would be so boring. I just glared at him.
He looked back at me and half sighed, half laughed. "Look, I'm sorry." And I knew from his tone that I wasn't going to get a useful word out of him.
Sitting on my bed looking at Samuel while he said nothing more, I realized something awful. Despite everything, something inside me still pulled me toward him. I had felt it from the first moment I saw him and had chalked it up to wanting to know why he hated me so much. But now, sitting there looking at him relaxing in my chair, I wasn't so sure. One thing I did know, though, was that I wanted him out of my room. Right then.
"We should get back downstairs," I said, hopping off my bed.
"Actually, I have to get going, but I'll see you soon," he said, standing up.
"I'll walk you out," I said, and made a beeline for the door.
"So you think I look like a football player?" he asked as we walked down the hall.
I blushed. "I was angry."
"I know," he said.
Carley and Nick were both in
the living room playing cards. I wasn't sure what game it was, but I think it might have been Go Fish. After they said their goodbyes to Samuel, I let him out and watched him walk away into the rain. He instantly disappeared into the downpour.
I sat down with Carley and Nick. I was still completely frustrated, because despite Samuel's apology he still didn't make any sense.
"Why can't guys just tell me what's going on?" I asked.
"You know how men are about the F word," said Carley.
"I'm pretty sure we like it," said Nick.
Carley gave him a look that said Don't you get anything? And replied, "Not that F word."
Nick looked confused.
"I'm talking about the OTHER F word," she said, like it was obvious.
"What other F word?" asked Nick, bewildered.
"Feelings," Carley said. "That's the one that's like a swear word to guys."