"Funny," he said. "I meant, I didn't do the whole dating thing."
"That makes sense."
He looked startled. "Why?"
"Because you knew things were going to end anyway, and so why pretend they might work out when they never do?"
"That's . . . not the reaction I was expecting."
"What, you wanted applause?"
He laughed. "No, I thought you'd, I don't know, yell some more or something."
"But you're right," I said. "Things do end. I mean, this year I lost my best friend, even though it turned out to be for just a little while, and then my father quit his job, and now--"
"Wait, you're talking to Anna again? Why?"
"What do you mean, why? She's my best friend. Wouldn't you hate it if Sam stopped talking to you?"
"Sam not talking to me? I think that'd be a dream come true for both of us," he muttered.
"But you two hang out all the time and--"
"I know, I used him as girl bait." "That's not what I was going to say."
"Really?"
"Yes, Mr. I-Think-I-Can-Read-Minds-But-Can't. I was going to say, aren't your mom and his mom friends too?"
"They were, back when my mom was catering on the weekends to earn extra money and did all of Sam's mom's dinner parties. Now they're business partners, which means Sam's mom spends all her time drawing up menus for people to look at and my mom spends all her time worrying about how she's going to make a puff pastry thing for sixty people all by herself. I even had to miss school a while ago to help out with some brunch thing because Sam's mom can't be bothered to do any actual work."
I had a feeling that day was back when I'd listened to the Jennifers speculate that he'd skipped because of trouble with a girl. "So, you're mad at Sam because of his mom?"
"No, I'm mad at Sam because he's a jerk. I just . . I guess I realized I was turning into my dad with the whole girl thing and--well, I didn't want to, you know? But he didn't get it.
Still doesn't. Plus he and his dad keep telling his mom to quit working with mine, and if that happens my mom will be stuck trying to keep their business going. And she doesn't have the kind of money that Sam's parents do."
"That sucks."
"Yeah. Now Sam mostly uses me as a cover story for when he wants to ditch Anna and--
" He broke off.
"It's okay. Anna knows he cheats on her."
"I guess it would be hard not to know," he said. "She doesn't care?" "She's afraid he'll dump her if she says anything. Hey, how come you asked me why I was talking to Anna again?"
"Because of what she did when school started, and because you don't usually put up with crap from anyone."
"Anna isn't--it's not like that."
He looked at me. I looked away, staring out the windshield and feeling what I'd just said ring weirdly hollow inside me, like it wasn't true. I shook my head and looked back at him. "Speaking of crap, I put up with you, don't I?"
"That's because you want to make out with me."
"I don't--"
"Liar," he said, and then he kissed me and I forgot about everything for a while.
We ended up leaving the pizza place parking lot to get tacos and eat them at the park. I learned Will didn't like guacamole ("It's green and slimy--how is that food?") and that his mother had been Sam's father's secretary before she started catering full-time.
("Probably another reason why Sam's dad is such an ass about everything. My mother isn't around to do all his work for him anymore.")
I also learned why he was working at Sports Shack.
"You know what really sucks," he told me after he'd dumped all the guacamole out of his third chicken taco, "is that I was supposed to get a raise after I finished my training period at the Shack, only to find out the policy's changed and now I have to wait another three months. It sucks because it's not like rent's going to get any cheaper."
"Rent? On what?" "Our house. You know, a place where people live. You must have heard of them."
I swatted his arm. "You're working to help pay the rent?"
"Thanks for sounding so shocked. You work to help your dad, right? Is it so hard to believe I'd work to help my mom?"
"No. I just--I don't know. I always thought you were--"
"Yeah, I know what you thought about me."
"Am I allowed to finish a sentence?"
He grinned, leaning into me. "I don't know. Are you?"
"I always thought you were a jerk, but you aren't. Not all the time, anyway," I said, elbowing him. "You . . . you surprise me."
"I surprise you?" He caught my arm in his, sliding his hand down so it tangled with mine.
"Yeah. You're not so bad, you know?"
"You like me," he said, grinning again.
"I didn't say that."
"Close enough," he said, and kissed me again.
By the time we left the park, it was after eleven. We got back to my house by 11:20, and were kissing by . . . well, about two seconds after 11:20.
"I have to go," he said after a few minutes, and then kissed me again.
"Okay," he said, a couple of minutes after that, "I really have to go. I'm supposed to be home by 11:30. Plus I have to get up and go to work tomorrow. Are you working?"
I nodded, dazed from all the kissing.
"Can I come see you when I get my break?"
"I don't know, can you?" I said, teasing him, and okay, trying to sound like it wasn't a big deal that he'd asked that, but inside I was cheering.
He leaned in and brushed his lips against my cheek, moving slowly toward my mouth.
"You're so cute when you're trying to be mean. I used to say stuff just to get you to look at me like you are now."
I pulled away frowning at him. "'Cute' is one of those words people use when they know you're smart enough to realize 'you've got so much personality' means 'you're ugly'"
"Your ability to take compliments is definitely one of the things I like best about you," he said, grinning.
I forced myself to ignore his smile, but it was hard. "And what do you mean, you used to say stuff to get me to look at you? You were a pain in the ass on purpose?"
"Oh, please. For you and me, it was flirting. Besides, it was the only way I could get you to talk to me."
"You're making me sound like a freak."
He leaned over and put one hand on either side of my face and then moved his mouth so it hovered over mine, so close we were almost kissing.
"I don't think you're a freak," he said, and then he kissed me again.
"So what do you think I am?" I said when we separated.
He laughed. "I just think you're you."
"That doesn't really answer the question."
"I think you're stubborn and smart and sort of bossy and beautiful," he said.
"I'm not stubborn or bossy." He thought I was beautiful! ME! "You're right. You're obstinate and occasionally domineering."
"You're not funny," I said, trying not to laugh. I did anyway.
"You have a nice laugh too," he said, and kissed me again. This time we didn't separate until his phone beeped.
"Sorry," he said, pulling away and flipping it open. He grinned when he saw the screen, and then held it out toward me.
I will keep doing this until you call and say
you're on your way home.
Mom
"I love how she signed it, like I wouldn't know who it's from," he said.
"I can't believe she spelled everything out."
"She's psychotic about that stuff," he said. "Back before my dad left, she was working on a degree in literature. I have to hide all my English papers from her. Hey, is that your grandmother?"
I looked out the window and groaned. Grandma was looking at us from the kitchen window, her orange silk bathrobe shining brighter than the kitchen light. "I should go before she comes out and starts talking about your teeth again."
"So, next time should I show up with my dental x-rays?"
"Who s
ays there's going to be a next time?"
"Who says there won't?"
I was silent for a moment. I liked the thought of him coming over again. I liked the thought of having another night like tonight again. "The ten-second rule is still in place, you know, so now we have another date," he said.
"Really?"
"If you want," he said, looking at me so intensely I really had no choice but to kiss him.
So I did.
Chapter Thirty- two
I expected Grandma to pounce on me as soon as
I came inside, especially since I'd seen her in the kitchen, but the house was quiet and dark when I walked in, and Grandma's door was closed, no light shining out from underneath it. There was a light on in Mom and Dad's room though, but they didn't say anything when I knocked, and if they were awake, they weren't talking to each other.
So, free from discussing where I'd been with anyone, I went to bed. I was more than happy to, because I wanted to think about Will and everything that had happened tonight forever. Especially those last few minutes in the car. They had been amazing. The whole evening had been . . . It had felt like the kind of night that could change your life.
I fell asleep happy, with the promise of seeing Will again tomorrow burning warm inside me.
I woke up with a start right before my alarm was supposed to go off and heard a muted thump out in the hall.
"Dad?" Todd said, and there was something in his voice, a mix of bewilderment and panic, that made me tense. Todd didn't panic. Not ever.
"Sorry," Dad said, and his voice was flat, empty of his usual enthusiasm. "I didn't mean to bump into you like that. I'm a little distracted."
"Dad--"
"We'll talk later, okay? I'll come see you at work."
Their voices faded as the two of them headed toward the living room. I got up, threw on some clothes, and cautiously opened my door. Peering out into the hall, I saw that Grandma's room was empty, and wondered where she was.
That's when the shouting started.
"This is not a punishment!" Mom yelled, and I wondered what Grandma had done to make her so mad. No wonder Dad sounded so strange. He didn't like Grandma, but he really hated it when Mom got angry enough to yell.
"You guys, what's going on?" Todd said, and he sounded more panicked than he had before.
"Ask your mother," Dad said, and although he wasn't yelling, he was talking louder than he usually did. "She's the one who's decided I'm not fit to live with anymore!" Those last few words did come out as a yell. I froze for a moment, stunned by what he'd just said--and by how he'd said it--and then I ran to the living room.
"That's not what I said," Mom said as I came in. She and Dad were standing on opposite sides of the room, Dad by the hallway that led to the front door and Mom by the sofa, one hand braced on the handle of the sliding glass door that looked out onto our backyard. Grandma was sitting in the recliner, and Todd was in the middle of the room, looking back and forth at everyone.
"I asked you to make a choice," Mom continued, her voice shaking now. "You did, and it's a choice I'm not comfortable with, so I think it's best if we . . if we live apart for a while."
"Since when?" Dad said. "You've never doubted me before. But now," he glared at Grandma, "you've suddenly decided things aren't working? I know your mother gave you money, Sharon, but you don't owe her--"
"Suddenly?" Mom said. "This hasn't been sudden. I begged you not to cash in all your retirement money. I begged you not to buy so many Perfect You products, or to at least wait until you sold some of what you had. I begged you not to make the children work for you. I begged you not to throw that party. I begged you not to buy that ad. And you know what, Steve? You did what you wanted anyway. What I said--what I thought--it wasn't important to you at all."
"How can you say that? You and Kate and Todd are my life!"
"Are we? Then why didn't you listen when I told you we had no money? Why did you ignore the budget I begged you to stick to? Why did you choose to throw away our home--our home, Steve--for goddamned vitamins?"
"I can't believe you're saying this," Dad said. "It isn't . . . none of this is fair. If you'd only-
-why can't you--?"
"Don't you dare try to blame my child for this," Grandma snapped. "You chose to throw away your retirement money, you chose to ignore everything Sharon said. She showed me the credit card bills, you know, and how you could buy expensive coffee and worthless video games during this time . . I admit I never thought you were right for my daughter, Steve, but I certainly never thought you'd be cruel enough to wreck her life like this."
"Damn you, I haven't wrecked anything!" Dad said, and we all froze. Seeing him mad was a million times worse than all his fake smiles because it was so clear he was falling apart.
"Look," he said, staring at Mom, his voice softer now, pleading, "I've got it all figured out. We'll rent the house I told you about, the one that needs a little work, and we'll save as much as we can. After a few months of that, plus Todd's paychecks from the coffee place and the money your mother's given you, we'll be able to move somewhere nicer.
And then, once business picks up, we'll have just enough to live on and we can use Todd's paychecks to help pay down our debt."
"No," Mom said, at the same time Todd said, "What?"
"I've sacrificed enough for you, Steve," Mom said. "I got a second job. I stretched money as far as I could while you kept spending it, and I am not going to live in a falling-down house and let my son pay off our debt. It's not right. We deserve better." "I just think that if we all help each other out for a little while longer--"
"Hold on," Todd said, and turned to Dad. "Did I hear you right? You want me to give you my paychecks?"
"Not forever. Just until we get things together. It's for the family, Todd. Your mom and I did what we had to in order to send you to college and now--"
"Hey you had money to send me to college," Todd said.
"We didn't--"
"You did. Mom told me about it."
Dad shot Mom a hurt look, and Grandma sat up straighter, her eyes darting from Todd to Mom.
"Look, I feel bad that you guys had problems," Todd said, "but Dad, I took the job at the coffee place to save up enough to move out on my own. Not to--not to support you."
He swallowed. "I mean . . I want to help, okay? But I don't want to take care of you."
"But that's not what I'm saying," Dad said.
"But it's what you're asking," Todd said, and looked at Mom, turning away from Dad.
"I'm going to work now," he told her. "Call me if you need anything."
"Todd," Dad said, but Todd just shook his head and walked out.
It was so quiet after he left. Horrible, deadly quiet. I looked at Grandma and was startled to see there were tears in her eyes.
"Is this it?" Dad said, breaking the silence. He was staring at Mom, looking broken. "You really want me to go?"
"No, but I . . I need you to grow up," Mom said. "And I hope that time apart will help you--" "Grow up?" Dad said. "This isn't you, Sharon. I know it isn't. You sound like your mother."
Mom flinched. "I'm not saying you have to give up your Perfect You business, Steve. You can still do it part-time. I just. . . I need you to get a job. A real one."
"But I have a real job," Dad said. "And it's--I'm living my dream, Sharon. My whole life, I've wanted to do something that makes me happy, and I have that now. Please don't ask me to give it up."
"I don't make you happy? Our life isn't enough for you?"
"Of course you make me happy. It's always been you and me, hasn't it? And I know the two of us, together, can do anything. Things will turn around, Sharon. Just trust in that.
Trust in me."
"I can't," Mom whispered, and Dad staggered back like she'd hit him.
"Why did you do this?" he said, turning to Grandma. "Why did you have to ruin things?"
"I didn't," Grandma said. "You did. Didn't you listen to a word Sharon sa
id? Or are you completely incapable of hearing anything other than yourself?"
"Mother, please," Mom said, her voice cracking.
"Me? You're accusing me of not hearing Sharon?" Dad said. "You sent her away when she was a child, like she was a gift you could return, and now you sit there and try to tell me that I--"
"Stop it," I said, and then said it again, louder, shouting, and Mom and Dad and Grandma stared at me like they'd never seen me before. I don't think they'd even noticed I was there.
"See," Dad said to Grandma. "Look at what you've done to Kate. Honey, go get in the car and we'll go to the mall in a minute."
"Me?" Grandma said. "Kate, darling, come over here and sit on the sofa and rest for a bit. You don't have to go anywhere."
"Both of you stop it," Mom said, glaring at Dad and Grandma. "Kate, please go to your room and I'll come talk to you in a bit, okay?"
"No," I said. "I'm sick of listening to all of you." And then I walked past them, grabbing a pair of shoes as I went outside. I heard their voices, raised again, as I slammed the front door closed behind me, but I didn't stop to listen.
I didn't want to hear anything they had to say.
Chapter Thirty- three
I sort of wanted someone to come after me, if only to tell me that everything would be okay or at least as okay as things could be when you woke up and found out your parents were splitting up, but no one did. I stopped at the end of our street for a second, waiting, but no one else was around, and the front door to our house was still closed.
I kept walking, trying to think of something I could do. Some way I could fix things. But there was nothing. I wished I could talk to someone, that I could tell Will what had happened.
I could call him. Go home, lock myself in my room, and call him. Except I'd have to deal with my parents and Grandma, plus Will was probably on his way to work already.
Also, I was pretty sure that everything I wanted to say wasn't the kind of thing you went around telling someone after only one date.
I still wanted to call him, though. But how would I even start the conversation? "Hey, I had a great time last night, and by the way, I got up this morning and my mom asked my dad to move out. How are you?"
No, I couldn't call him. At least not with that as my opening line. But I . . I could ask Anna what to do. I could tell her every terrible thing that had just happened. After all, we were talking again.