“You lost the right to tilt my chin when we broke up, then,” I correct myself.
“Okay,” he says. But he doesn’t move. Now his finger is drawing little swirls across my chin and onto my cheeks and over my lips.
“You’re still doing it,” I tell him.
“I never wanted to break up with you,” he says.
“Of course not,” I say. “Because being broken up with means you got caught.”
“No,” he says. “That’s not why.”
I shiver a little, and then move my eyes up so that I’m looking at him. “If that’s true,” I say, swallowing, “then why didn’t you fight for me?”
“What do you mean?”
“You could have fought for me, you could have tried to get me to change my mind, you could have followed me the night I found the list.”
His eyes shift to the side then, and the spell is broken. Because he knows it’s true. If he really wanted to be with me, he would have fought for me. He would have tried to chase me, he would have tried to be with me, he would have tried to change my mind, he would have told Tyler that he didn’t want to be in the 318s anymore. But he didn’t. Because everything Cooper tells me is a complete and total lie, always.
“Eliza,” he says finally. “Why do you think you ended up on that list?”
“What list?” I ask, frowning.
“The list of the girls that were eligible for our initiation task?”
“There was a list?” I say, pushing the chair back from him and wheeling myself away. “A list of girls that were eligible? For you to fake-date?” Seriously! Just when I think he can’t sink any lower!
“Yeah,” he says. He’s hunched over now, his elbows resting on his knees. “I thought you knew that.”
“No, I did not know that!” I say, throwing my hands up. “And I have no idea how I got on that list! Probably because I’m quiet, or because I don’t have a perfect body, or maybe because I’m Kate’s sister and in your warped, dumb little minds you guys thought that would be funny.”
“No,” Cooper says. “You were on that list because I wanted you on it.” He says it like this should make me happy. I look at him. Cooper might be insane. Seriously.
“Oh, great,” I say. “That’s a wonderful reason, that really makes me like you a lot better, Cooper. Thanks so much for clearing that up.”
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I mean, I wanted you on it because I wanted a reason to talk to you.”
“Oh my God,” I say, standing up out of my chair, furious. “Are you seriously that delusional? You think that you saying you wanted to date me as a joke because you wanted to get to know me better makes me feel any better? If anything, it just makes it SO. MUCH. WORSE.” I look him right in the eye. “You disgust me,” I say. “Now get out of my room.”
“What?” he stands up and looks at me. “Did you not hear what I just said? I said that I wanted you on that list because I found you interesting, and cute, and I wanted an excuse to talk to you.”
He takes a couple of steps toward me, but I step backward, away from him.
“And that was your idea of a good excuse?” I say. “To put me on a list of girls you guys thought it would be funny to use?” I’m almost crying now, and I do NOT want to cry in front of him, so I turn around so he can’t see my face. “Go,” I say softly. “Please, just get out of my room.”
There’s silence for a minute, and neither one of us moves.
“Eliza—”
“I’m SERIOUS,” I say. “GO.”
“Fine,” he says softly. He stops when he gets to the door. “Um, do you mean just get out of your room, or get out of the whole house?”
I think about it. “Well, preferably the whole house, but I might need a ride from you, so don’t go just yet.”
My cell phone rings then. Clarice. I pick up the phone. “Hiii,” she trills, like nothing’s wrong, and she didn’t just steal Marissa’s car and leave me stranded at Tyler’s with no way home.
I’m already all worked up because of my fight with Cooper, and so it starts to come out in the phone call. “What the hell is going on?” I ask. “Why did you just abandon me and Marissa?” I start pacing back and forth, I guess because I have all this nervous energy that needs to come out.
“What do you mean?” Clarice asks. “I had to go and pick up Jamie. Honestly, it was horrible. Madeline left her at this arcade in Southie and, Eliza, you know Southie is NOT a good part of town.”
“She couldn’t take the T?” I ask. “To get home?”
“The T doesn’t run this late,” Clarice reports. “And besides, Jamie doesn’t take the T.”
“What do you mean, ‘Jamie doesn’t take the T’?” I repeat. Who doesn’t take the T? It’s like saying you live in New York and don’t take the subway. Although. I guess there are a lot of people who live in New York and don’t take the subway. A lot of rich, snobby people who are always taking cabs. “Let me rephrase that,” I say. “What kind of person doesn’t take the T to get out of a bad neighborhood?” It’s totally counterintuitive, when you think about it. Not taking public transportation because you’re afraid of it, yet risking your life in a bad part of town? Although I’m sure they were exaggerating about how much danger they were in. Clarice’s cousins Jamie and Madeline are always exaggerating things.
“Jamie and Madeline don’t,” Clarice says. “And she was so scared, I really wish you would have heard her.”
“I’m sure she was really scared,” I say, still pacing and trying to keep control of myself so that I don’t lose it completely. Cooper’s still standing by the door, trying not to laugh, which is just annoying me even more, because I know why he’s laughing.
Cooper met Jamie and Madeline once, at this cookout he had. Clarice just showed up with them, and we couldn’t exactly ask them to leave, even though they were kind of weird. They spent the whole time under these huge umbrellas they brought because “their delicate skin couldn’t take the sun’s ultraviolet, ultra-cruel rays.”
Later, we surmised that they must have a thing with umbrellas, because when Cooper served them drinks, they produced pastel-colored paper umbrellas for their glasses out of their purses and then sat by the pool, under their umbrellas, sipping away happily and talking only to each other.
I shoot Cooper a death glare now and curse myself for ever letting him get so invested in my life. What was I thinking? We were only together for a couple of months! It was a horrible plan to let him meet my friends and spend so much time with them.
“She was totally scared,” Clarice is saying. “They were showing a boxing match on one of those big screens there, and you know how Jamie gets about violence.”
“Why did she go there in the first place?” I ask.
“She was dared,” Clarice reports. “She lost a bet.”
“She lost a bet and so she had to go to an arcade in Southie?” Then I realize I’m getting too caught up in the details of Jamie’s life, when I have much bigger things going on. “Never mind,” I say to Clarice. “Look, where are you?”
My phone vibrates in my hand and beeps, cutting off her answer. “Hold on,” I say. “I have a text.”
I check my phone. “SAW THE PICS,” Tyler says. “NOT BAD. now get back to the city by 3 am to get your next task.”
Jesus. How late is this going to go? And when are they going to JUST STOP ALREADY? I take a deep breath. “Clarice,” I say calmly. “Where are you?”
“Um, I’m leaving the city right now.” Shit, shit, shit. She’s never going to have enough time to get me and then bring me back there by three o’clock. “Okay,” I say. “Can you go and grab Marissa at her house?”
“Marissa went home?” Clarice asks. “That wasn’t very nice, Eliza. She shouldn’t have left you.”
“Marissa didn’t leave me,” I say. Has Clarice forgotten her recent carjacking? “You left. You left us all alone.”
“No,” she says. “I left you with Cooper. Where is Cooper, any
way?”
“He’s right here,” I say, looking at him warily.
“Hi, Clarice!” Cooper yells.
“Hi, Cooper,” Clarice yells back. Ugh. But I really don’t have time to get into a big discussion about her loyalties, so I’m forced to let it go.
“Look,” I say. “Marissa got arrested.”
“Marissa what?!” Clarice exclaims.
“She’ll explain everything to you when you see her,” I say. “Call her first, because she’s going to have to sneak out. Tyler wants me back in the city by three, so go and get her, and then meet me at the Perk on Newbury.” Perk is this all-night coffee place that usually gets pretty busy on weekends after everything else is closed. I figure it’s a good place to meet, since it’s in a safe area, and there should be at least some people around.
“Got it,” Clarice says, and then she clicks off.
I look over to where Cooper is sitting. “So,” I say. “Uh, you want to take me with you, back to Boston?”
He grins. Ugh.
I make him wait in the living room while I change into comfortable jeans and a soft gray sweater. Then I head downstairs and follow him angrily and silently out of the house and back into his car.
The whole ride into the city, we don’t talk. Which is fine with me. There’s hardly any traffic, and so we’re able to get in fairly quickly, and I spend the whole time pretending to be texting on my phone. Cooper lets me pick the music, so I create a pop station on Pandora and keep the music up a little too loud for conversation.
The weird thing? I kind of do want to talk to him. Okay, that’s not true. I want him to want to talk to me. I know I told him to go away in my bedroom, and for the most part, I did want him to go away. I mean, I do want him to go away. My brain won’t let me believe anything that he says. But the other, smaller part of me wants him to talk to me again, to bring up the fact that maybe he wasn’t completely and totally doing what Tyler told him to, that maybe a small part of him still cares about me. Even though I know it’s stupid.
Which is why I have the music on. Because I know if I start talking, I’m going to try to steer the conversation around to why he wanted me on that list and what he thinks about everything, and I know that’s just dumb. Kate always told me that you should judge people by their actions and not their words.
And so far, Cooper’s actions definitely prove that he could care less about me. I mean, all he would have to do to prove it would be to get my notebook back for me. Or to quit the 318s. Or to at least kiss me.
But if he doesn’t care about me at all, if he’s such a big jerk, then why is he helping me so much? I steal a look at him out of the corner of my eye. I try not to admire the way his hair fades into the back of his neck, the way his green eyes are all droopy and brooding. I try not to stare at his forearms clutching the steering wheel. Cooper has very sexy forearms. I think about those arms around my waist, and I swallow hard and then shift my gaze and look back out the window. Honestly, I never should have trusted anyone who’s that good-looking.
When we take the exit off the Mass Pike to get into Boston, Cooper reaches over and turns the radio down.
“Um,” he says. “Where should I … I mean, I have to get back to Isabella’s, so should I just bring you to Perk?”
Right. Isabella’s. I totally forgot about that. That’s a whole other story. I mean, it’s a little bit better now that I know Cooper’s not with her. But still.
“Yes,” I say. “You can drop me off at the Perk on Newbury.”
“I’m glad you picked that place,” he says. “That’s a safe area.”
“Thanks for thinking of me,” I say sarcastically.
His hands tighten around the steering wheel. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.
“It just means,” I say, “that if you were really so concerned about me, you wouldn’t just dump me off at Perk and then rush off to Isabella’s.”
“Eliza, I told you,” he says. “Isabella and I are just friends. The only reason I’m even going back to her apartment is so Tyler won’t know that I’m with you.”
“I am so sick of all this Tyler bullshit! Honestly, Cooper, you really need to get some balls.”
“I have balls,” he says, looking pissed.
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do,” he says.
“No, you don’t,” I say.
“I can’t believe this,” he says. “I was all set to call him and tell him you weren’t going to play along with him anymore! Remember? When we were outside of Tyler’s and you started crying? You’re the one who told me I shouldn’t!”
Hmm. Good point. But whatever. I am too mad to even speak to him. We’re on Newbury Street now, and Cooper’s moving down the street, stopping every so often so people can cross. All the bars have just closed, so there are a lot of people on the street, heading back to their cars or looking for a place to get a late-night bite to eat.
“Look,” Cooper says, “I’m sorry you think that I’m not on your side, but I’ve been helping you all night, so a little bit of gratitude would be appreciated.”
I look at him incredulously. “A little bit of gratitude?” Is he serious? “You’re the one who got me into this predicament in the first place! If it wasn’t for you, I’d be at home right now, with Marissa and Clarice, completely happy and enjoying the fact that my parents were out of town by ordering pizza and watching whatever movies I wanted On Demand and having a great time!”
“Oh, yeah, that sounds like you’re really missing out on a lot,” Cooper says.
“Well, maybe it doesn’t sound as exciting as making out with girls for sport, but I happen to like it,” I say.
“Eliza,” Cooper says. He reaches over and tries to take my hand, but I pull it out of his grip.
“Whatever, Cooper,” I say. “If you really want to help me, then please just stay far, far away from me.”
He’s stopped at a crosswalk, and so I don’t even wait for him to say anything. I just step out of the car and onto the street.
Chapter Eleven
2:41 a.m.
I’m so shaken that once I’m out of Cooper’s car, I start walking the wrong way down the street, away from Perk. I don’t want Cooper to see me turning around, because that would be super-embarrassing, so instead I just keep walking and then turn down a side street so I can walk around the block.
When I finally do get to Perk, my head feels a little bit clearer, and my heart rate’s slowed just a little bit. Still, I’m super-wired, so I opt for an herbal tea that the barista recommends when I ask for the best caffeine-free, calming drink available. I find a little table in the corner and sit down, wishing I had a book or a newspaper or some knitting or something to do while I sit here.
I take a sip of my tea. Eww. Kind of gross. Very strong and herby, with not enough milk and sugar. But if I want to put more in, it means I have to go back up to the counter, and then I’ll lose my table. And if I lose my table, then I’ll really be in trouble, because what will I do then? Just walk up and down the street with my drink? I can’t exactly window-shop; all that’s open now are a couple of twenty-four-hour restaurants and pizza joints.
I sip my tea and feel sorry for myself for a little while, then flip open my phone and call Marissa.
“Hello!” she says when she answers. I can tell she’s in the car, because I can hear the rush of the wind behind her, like all the windows are open. “What’s going on?”
“Where are you guys?” I ask.
“Hold on,” she says. “I can’t hear you.” She turns the music down, and then says something to Clarice, giggling. Great. It sounds like they’re having a grand old time, with music and the wind blowing their hair, and I’m sitting here drinking some dumb herbal tea that tastes like pinecones, all by myself and waiting for the next thing I have to do that is going to humiliate me.
“Okay, sorry,” Marissa says, coming back on the line. “Clarice just picked me up.”
“You shou
ld have seen her, Eliza,” Clarice yells. “She had to jump off her back deck; she almost killed herself.”
“Yeah, real funny,” Marissa says. “Anyway, where are you?”
“I’m here,” I say, “at a table in the back.”
“We’re almost there,” Marissa says. “See you in five.”
Fifteen agonizing minutes later, they come waltzing in, giggling and laughing and falling all over each other, chattering away. Since when did those two become such good friends?
“Hi,” I say morosely. “What took you so long?”
“Sorry,” Marissa says. “I made the mistake of letting Clarice drive, and so of course we had to circle around forever, looking for a parking spot that was big enough for her to pull into, since she’s totally afraid to parallel park.”
“I’m not afraid,” Clarice protests. “I just don’t trust myself to do it, and I knew you’d get super-upset if I ended up scratching your car.” She flips her blond hair over her shoulder. “But anyway, it didn’t even matter, because a nice man totally parked the car for me.”
“A nice man parked your car for you?” Honestly, you couldn’t even make this stuff up.
“Yes,” Clarice says. “He was crossing the street, and I saw a spot, and so I said, ‘Excuse me, sir, but would you possibly be willing to park my car for me?’ and so he did!” She beams.
“Why didn’t you just do it?” I ask Marissa.
“Because I wanted to see what was going to happen,” Marissa explains.
“How did you know the guy would be a good parallel parker?” I ask Clarice.
“He just had that look about him,” she says.
“What if he was drunk or something?”
“Eliza, he wasn’t drunk!” She looks shocked. “He was wearing a suit and he had a very well-groomed beard!” I decide not to point out that if he was wearing a suit, that probably meant he hadn’t been home from work to change, which most likely meant he’d been prowling the streets of Boston since he got out of work, maybe even since yesterday, doing God knows what.