Rules We're Meant to Break

by Natalie Williamson

  “Shut it,” I tell her, but I’m smiling.

  I kissed Jordan Baugh. A lot.

  “Oh, good,” a voice says from the hallway, and all of a sudden Cammie’s standing next to Buffy in the doorway. What is she doing here? She steps carefully around Buffy and comes into the room, going over to the desk and leaning against it. “You’re up.”

  “Um, yeah,” I say. “What time is it?” I look over at my nightstand but I don’t have a clock and my phone is nowhere to be found.

  “Noon.”

  Only noon? I’m surprised it’s not later than that. Jordan didn’t drive me home until after three.

  “Listen, I won’t keep you very long because I’m sure you and Hannah have plans,” Cammie says. She’s got her arms crossed over her chest and is glaring at me so hard that a large part of me wants to dive under my covers and never come out again. Jesus, this girl has the whole murderous-expression thing down to a science. “I just came in here to tell you to knock off this bullshit back-and-forth thing you have going on with J.”

  For a second, all I can do is blink at her. “What?”

  “You know exactly what,” she snaps. “One minute you’re making googly eyes at him in his driveway and the next you’re blowing him off in front of his best friends. It’s rude and it hurts him and it’s pretty freaking stupid because any idiot could tell that you’re actually into him.”

  I’m not sure how to respond to this, because she’s not wrong. Up until about ten and a half hours ago, the hot-and-cold thing is exactly what I was doing when it came to Jordan. And I am definitely, definitely into him. Jordan’s face pops into my head, all messy hair and flushed cheeks after he kissed me goodbye this morning. And earlier than that, how he looked when we went inside because I was shivering in the snow. How I told him I wanted to take things slow and he kissed me and said, “Slow is good. I like slow.”

  And just like that, I blush again. Full-on hot face, neck, ears. It all burns.

  When I don’t say anything, Cammie rolls her eyes and mutters, “At least you’re not trying to deny it.”

  Even though she’s right, I bristle at her tone. “Look,” I say, pushing back the covers and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “I get where you’re coming from, but I don’t think—”

  “Um, guys?” Hannah’s voice says from the bathroom doorway, and I jump, startled. I was so focused on Cammie’s anger that I didn’t even hear the shower cut off. “Everything okay in here?”

  “It’s fine,” I say.

  “No it’s not.” Cammie glares at me again. “I don’t know what your hang-up is when it comes to Jordan, Amber, but you need to figure it out ASAP or leave him alone. If you don’t, I will totally lose my shit.”

  Hannah blinks at us for a second, then does a weird cough thing that is definitely actually a laugh.

  I sigh right as Cammie says, “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing really,” Hannah says, coming over to sit on the end of my bed and unwinding the towel she’s got wrapped around her hair. “It’s just, I told her pretty much the same thing last night when we got back here. In a little nicer words, maybe. But the point was the same.”

  “Oh.” Cammie glances from Hannah to me and back again. “Well, good. Someone needed to, because this whole thing is starting to get ridiculous.”

  “Okay,” I say, getting to my feet. “I’m gonna take a shower now.”

  “Wait,” Cammie says, and something in her tone makes me stop.

  “What?”

  She studies me carefully for a second, like she’s trying to decide something. Then she sighs. “Look, J would kill me if he knew I was here right now, but he really likes you, okay? He was so upset when you guys left last night.”

  “I know,” I say without thinking.

  Cammie narrows her eyes at me. “How do you know?”

  My phone rings before I have a chance to answer. It’s muffled, coming from under my pillow, and I lunge for it, sure that if I don’t, Hannah or Cammie will either grab for it first or tell me to ignore the call and focus on the conversation. More heat rushes to my face when I see Jordan’s name flashing across the screen. I answer and press the phone tight to my ear, trying to ignore Hannah and Cammie’s stares.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hey,” Jordan says. He sounds nervous, which is good because I am too. It feels a little silly to be nervous after how much my tongue was in his mouth last night, but there you go. At least I’m not the only one. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

  “No, no.”

  “Oh, good.” He clears his throat. “So, uh, I have a question. Which is why I called.”

  “Okay,” I say, laughing. “Hit me.”

  “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Um, nothing really,” I say. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Hannah lean forward slightly, like a hunting dog on point. I look away from her and focus on twisting the corner of my sheets around my fingers. “Why?”

  “Tasha and her girlfriend will be home for winter break tonight. My mom’s making a big dinner. Do you want to come? It won’t be fancy or anything, but the food will be good.”

  I want to ask him if this means what I think it means, but I am way too aware of Hannah and Cammie watching me. So I take a deep breath to help settle the butterflies in my stomach and say, “Yeah, I’ll come. That sounds fun.”

  “Yeah?” The happiness in his voice makes me grin.

  “Yeah. What time?”

  “Six thirty? I’ll pick you up a little before.”

  I hesitate for a second, thinking of the awkwardness that’s lingering between Mom and Kevin. But I want to go to Jordan’s tonight more than I want to avoid any weird run-ins. “Okay. I’ll have to double-check with my mom first, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Great,” he says. “I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

  “See you then,” I say.

  “Bye,” he says. I get the feeling he’s having a hard time hanging up. Which is good, since I am too.

  “Bye,” I say, and force myself to hang up.

  A throat clears and I look at the foot of my bed, where Cammie has come to sit next to Hannah. Both of them are gaping at me.

  “Who was that?” Hannah asks.

  “Um … Jordan.”

  “And,” Cammie says, her expression wary, “you’re hanging out with him tonight?”

  I look at her. “Yeah.”

  “And,” Hannah says, giving a little bounce, her voice full of barely suppressed glee, “how, exactly, did this happen?”

  “Um.” I hesitate for a second before I decide, to paraphrase Hannah, to screw it and tell them the truth. “I took Buffy on a walk last night after you fell asleep. By his house.”

  “You did?” Hannah says, her smile at full wattage.

  “Yeah. He was outside. We’re, uh, we’re good now.”

  She tackle-hugs me, squealing, and I laugh and squeal with her. “Tell us everything!” she demands when she finally lets me go. “Every detail.” And even though Cammie’s here and I’m still not sure about breaking rule number two, I do.

  Once I’m done with my story—during which Hannah interrupts me about a million times and Cammie’s expression morphs from suspicious to happy as I go on—we head downstairs in search of food. Cammie makes a vague comment about how she should probably go back to her mom’s place since Mom and Kevin apparently aren’t even here, but Hannah waves her off and insists that she stay and eat with us. So she does. And even though she basically came over here to yell at me before she realized I’d already fixed things with Jordan, it’s surprisingly not weird.

  Later, after we’ve eaten and Cammie has left, Hannah and I go back up to my room to look at all the apartments I’ve been researching and make a game plan for when I talk to my mom later today. I’m in the middle of taking screenshots of all the most promising apartments I’ve found when Hannah says, “You didn’t mind that I asked Cammie to stay earlier, did you?”

&
nbsp; “No,” I say. “It was kind of nice.”

  Hannah grins. “I thought so too.”

  * * *

  It’s after six by the time Mom gets home, and I’m so antsy about my talk with her and my impending dinner with Jordan’s family that I corner her in the kitchen while she’s hanging up her keys and coat.

  “Hey,” I say, skidding to a stop near the island. “Can you come look at something with me before I go to my dinner thing? It’s really important.”

  “Oh hi, honey,” Mom says, turning at the sound of my voice. She looks tired and half her hair is lighter than the other, probably from sugar or something from the bakery. But she still smiles gamely at me. “Of course. Give me a second to change out of these clothes, okay? I feel like I’m covered in flour.”

  “Okay.” I take a step back out of the kitchen and turn toward the stairs. “I’ll be up in my room.”

  I should probably change too, because there is no way I’m wearing yoga pants and a sweatshirt over to Jordan’s house for dinner with his whole family.

  A few minutes later I’m standing at the foot of my bed in jeans and a bra, staring at the ten different shirts I’ve got spread out over my bed. Buffy is lying at my feet, watching me with her ears pricked and her head resting on her paws. She lifts her head up, tags jingling, at the same time Mom says from the doorway, “Is this what you needed help with?”

  “Oh, no,” I say, jumping a little. “I mean, I only have like twenty more minutes to figure out what to wear, but no, I wanted to ask you something else.”

  “Okay,” Mom says slowly, looking a little bemused as she comes further into the room.

  I go over to my desk and open the top drawer enough to pull out the folder Hannah and I stashed there earlier this afternoon. Steeling myself, I turn back to face my mom and hold the folder out to her.

  “What’s this?” she asks, taking it from me and carefully flipping it open.

  “I’ve been doing some research,” I say. “On what it will cost me to live in Lawrence with Buffy next year. I hit a little snag because I don’t think Hannah really wants to live off campus anymore, but I made a plan B just in case, and I think I’ve got everything covered with the aid package I got. It’ll be tight and I’ll probably still have to take out loans, but I did the calculations on exactly how much I’d need to make my budget work, and—”

  “Amber,” Mom says, cutting me off. “Stop. Breathe. Okay?”

  I nod and suck in a huge breath, then let it out slow.

  She holds up the folder, which I realize she flipped all the way through while I was rambling. “This is wonderful. It’s very detailed. Can I take some time to look it over before we talk about it? I know you have dinner with your friend tonight.” She tips her head to the side a little and smiles at me. “And I’d rather you go fully dressed.”

  “Oh, right.” I look down at myself. “Um, okay.” I grab a shirt at random off the bed, take one look at it, and throw it back down again. “Does this mean you’ll let me at least do a campus visit with Hannah though? Because that’s what I was leading up to. I had this whole speech planned and everything.”

  “It means we can talk about it once I’ve had a chance to look over your numbers, okay?” Her tone is totally neutral and gives nothing away, but at least she’s not immediately saying no.

  “Okay.” I turn back to the bed and my shirt piles and sigh, because nothing looks right.

  “This dinner tonight,” Mom says. “It’s with the boy you’ve been tutoring, right?”

  “It’s not really tutoring, Mom. But yes.”

  “Hmm. Is it like a date?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, going over to my closet and pulling out a green top. I stare at it for a second, decide it’s too Christmas tree, and toss it onto the floor. “It’s dinner with his parents and sister and her girlfriend.”

  “That sounds like a date to me.” Mom comes over to join me and grabs a purple long-sleeved shirt with a cool detail around the neckline out of my closet. After studying it for a second, she holds it out to me. “Wear this. It looks pretty with your eyes.”

  She’s right, it does. So I put it on and offer her another smile. “Thanks.”

  twenty-four

  Jordan rings the doorbell at six thirty on the nose. Kevin gets to it before I can, even though I practically sprint down the stairs, almost tripping over Buffy in the process. I hear Jordan saying, “Hey, Mr. Henning,” right as I make it to the landing. “Is Amber ready to go?”

  “I’m right here,” I say, skidding to a stop behind Kevin, shoes, coat, and purse in hand. I fumble with them, trying not to drop anything and also to catch my breath. I look up and see Jordan watching me over Kevin’s shoulder and the whole breathing thing goes out the window for a second. He’s smiling at me, and he looks nervous and excited and so happy, all rolled into one. He looks how I feel.

  I want to kiss him. Because I can do that now.

  “You must be Jordan,” Mom says, coming up to stand beside me. She reaches out a hand to Jordan, and he takes it without a moment of hesitation. “I’m Claire. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” Jordan says, his gaze straying to me again. But then Buffy comes up to nudge him, and he breaks eye contact with me to bend down and rub her face.

  “I’ve got some dessert to send with you two,” Mom says, surprising me. “Give me a second to grab it, okay?”

  She heads for the kitchen without waiting for a response.

  “Good game Friday night, kid,” Kevin says to Jordan, stepping to the side so that he’s not between us anymore. “That was a season’s best in points for you, wasn’t it?”

  Jordan nods, and his smile goes sheepish for a second. “And assists.”

  Kevin grins. “A good night to have that happen, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah,” Jordan says, his smile fading a little as he looks from me to Kevin and back again.

  Before I can figure out this strange reaction, Mom comes back, this time with a cupcake Tupperware in hand. She and Kevin exchange wary glances, but that’s the only sign of awkwardness before she gives Jordan a bright smile and hands the cupcakes over to him.

  “Wow.” His eyes light up. “What are these?”

  “Oh, nothing too special. It’s this new chocolate cupcake recipe I’ve been working on. I like to try things out here before I go public with them at the bakery.” Much to Kevin’s dismay, though he hasn’t been complaining about it much lately. I wonder if that will change after their fight. But no. I can’t think like that. Not right now. “I think I’ve gotten this one perfected, so I figured it’d be a good one to send for dessert.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I say.

  “Yeah, seriously, thank you,” Jordan says at almost exactly the same moment. We exchange goofy grins, and then he turns to my mom and adds, “If you ever need someone else to test things out on, let me know.”

  Mom beams at him. “I will, for sure.” She leans over to give me a quick hug and whispers, “He’s cute,” so only I can hear. “I like him.” Louder, she adds, “You’ll have her home by ten? I know there are only four days left before winter break, but it is still a school night.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jordan says.

  “Good. It was so nice to meet you,” she says, and then she hurries back to the kitchen, leaving me and Jordan and Kevin alone again.

  “Well, kids,” Kevin says, “you’d better get going. Amber, you can probably swing ten thirty if you need to, all right? Just call if you’re going to be late.”

  I look at Kevin, surprised, because my curfew is usually non-negotiable on school nights unless it’s a special occasion. Kevin doesn’t say anything though. He just winks and waves us toward the door.

  “You’ve been holding out on me,” Jordan says as he leads me to the car. “Did you not want to share your secret baked-good stash?” We’re to the Jeep now and he stops at the passenger side, one hand holding mine, the other reaching up to set the cupcakes on the ro
of of the car.

  “It’s not that,” I say. “Sometimes Mom’s experiments are weird.” They’re never bad, but pineapple upside-down brownies are not something I ever needed to eat.

  “I’m willing to risk it.”

  “Noted. Next time I come over, I will bring cookies. Or brownies. Or would you rather have more cake?” I realize I’m babbling, but I can’t seem to stop. “Or—”

  He kisses me, soft and lingering, and I sigh against his lips and breathe him in. He searches my face when he pulls away, and when I smile, he smiles back. “Any of that,” he says. “All of it. All good.”

  “Okay,” I whisper, and he kisses me one more time before he reaches around me to open my door.

  * * *

  The drive to Jordan’s house lasts about two minutes even in the snow, and my chest is tight with nerves again by the time I’m following him through his garage door.

  Just like on Thanksgiving, Jordan’s family is all in the kitchen when we walk in. His mom and sister and a petite girl with dark hair—Tasha’s girlfriend, I assume—are all sitting at the bar stools along the kitchen island, while his dad is fussing with something on the stove. Everyone turns around when we come into the room, and they all immediately flash warm smiles in my direction.

  “Hi, Amber,” Jordan’s mom says. “It’s so good to see you again.”

  I clear my throat and move myself closer to Jordan as he sets the cupcakes down on the counter. “You too.”

  “This is my girlfriend, Katie,” Tasha says, and the dark-haired girl smiles and waves. I smile back, but before I have a chance to say hello or tell her it’s nice to meet her, Tasha is pointing to the cupcakes. “What are those?”

  “Homemade cupcakes.” Jordan grins at me over his shoulder.

  “My mom has a bakery,” I explain. “Claire’s Cakes and Confections, over in Waverley Square?”

  “Oh man, I love that place,” Tasha says. In a stage whisper, she adds, “Keep her forever, J, okay?”

  Laughter fills the kitchen in response to this, and I can feel myself blushing. But then Jordan reaches back to grab my hand, and suddenly I’m not so embarrassed anymore.