“A banana,” I say out loud. I pull it out and look at it. It’s perfect. Just this side of green and no spots. Maybe Jillian thought I’d need something to eat after practice. I unload my backpack and lay the banana carefully on the stack of books inside. Smiling, I grab one of the boxes of chocolates and snap my locker shut. I might as well give them to Ben Donovan now since I know Jillian will ask. But when I start heading toward the caff, I’m suddenly nervous. This morning was the longest conversation I’ve ever had with Ben Donovan. What if I don’t have anything more to say? What if I just sit there like a lump while he mentally kicks himself for inviting such a hopeless girl to have breakfast with him? By the time I round the corner, I feel more like I’m walking to the gallows than to breakfast.
Sitting on the far side of the caff in one of the booths are Peter and Ben Donovan. The blonde girl Peter was talking to is walking toward them, balancing two trays. One has four cups of coffee on it; the other is heaped with plates. I watch her wobble a little, then I hurry to her rescue. She hands me one of the trays with a grateful smile and I walk with her over to where the guys are sitting.
“Hey there,” Ben Donovan says, sliding over to make room for me. The smart remark I had about treating women like servants dies when he smiles at me. I put my tray on the table along with the box of chocolates. Peter introduces the blonde as Susan, who quickly corrects him.
“It’s Sarah,” she says, putting her tray on the table and sitting down.
“Right. Sarah, I meant Sarah.” But Peter is only half paying attention because he’s already pulling open the box of chocolates.
“Is this what I think it is?” He pulls back the tissue paper and peers inside. “Awesome,” he says. “Can I have one?” he asks, looking up at me. I’m stuck. It’s not like I can say Um, no actually they are for Ben Donovan and not someone who can’t even pronounce robot.
“Sure,” I say. He grabs two and drops them into his mouth one after the other.
“Dude,” he says, closing his eyes. “You have got to try these.” Ben Donovan takes one. I hold my breath, watching, thinking what if the love potion does work? Then I check myself. This is reality. In reality as I know it, there’s no such thing as magic. I look over at Peter as he starts shoveling forkfuls of pancakes into his mouth. Okay, so in addition to being sort of moronic, he also has terrible manners.
“Piper, these are awesome,” Ben Donovan says, reaching for another truffle. I take a sip of my coffee and smile at him. I needn’t have worried about what to talk about. The next several minutes are devoted to the guys shoving as much food into their mouths as they can in the shortest amount of time possible. I look over at Sarah, who seems too taken with Peter to be bothered by his gluttony. In addition to eating their own breakfasts, they inhale most of mine and Sarah’s. The guys finish off their feast with the rest of my box of chocolates. They offer one to Sarah, who shakes her head primly, as if she couldn’t possibly.
“So, Piper,” Peter says, leaning back and looking at me. “Whose heart are you breaking now?”
I roll my eyes at him, but I’m aware that Ben Donovan is looking at me too. “I am currently unattached,” I say, pretending to be much cooler than I feel.
Peter smirks at me, then looks over at Ben Donovan. “Dude, watch out. She’s ruthless.” I feel my cheeks heating up. It’s all I can do to avoid looking over to see his reaction.
“I’ll take that under advisement,” he says. I peek at him out of the corner of my eye and see him smiling at me. Peter just laughs and puts his arm around Sarah, who looks like she’s about to dissolve into a puddle of happiness. Luckily the bell signaling the end of zero period sounds, saving me from having to actually say anything. Sarah stacks the trays and gets up to return them. And of course the guys let her. Someone needs to tell her to stop being so servile.
“Thanks for breakfast, Peter,” I say. He just shrugs. I know money is nothing to him. His family is loaded.
The four of us head out to the hall, where we split off toward our various homerooms. I only make it about a dozen steps away before I hear my name behind me. I turn and look at Ben Donovan, standing there with a grin on his face. I notice that everyone else within earshot has turned and is looking at him too.
“See you around.” He smiles at me then walks away down the hall, parting the crowds in front of him. All eyes are on me. Everyone wants to know who Ben Donovan is going to “see around.” I feel myself blushing all the way down into my veggie sandals. I walk to my locker, hyperaware that people are still gawking at me. I open my locker, grab my perfect banana and pull out my books. It isn’t until I spot the other box of chocolates that I pause. What if—but I snap my locker shut before I can even finish the thought. If there were magic in the world, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t exist in Atlanta. Seriously.
“And then what did he say?” Jillian asks. General school craziness kept me from talking to Jillian and Claire all day long. I even spent lunchtime in the library getting a head start on my Brit lit midterm paper. I called them to tell them the details as soon as I got home, but Jillian told me to wait—they’d be right over. Luckily Mrs. Bateman is over her cold, so she can watch Dom and Lucy, giving me more time (and some peace and quiet) to actually get my schoolwork done.
I’m nearly through my lab report for biology when they arrive. We grab juice from the fridge (orange, not acai) and head up to my room. We’re barely through the door before Jillian starts firing questions at me. I try to answer, but she’s asking them so fast, I can’t get a word in.
Claire holds up her hand, silencing Jillian. “Tell us everything,” she says.
I start with explaining our coach’s rule about throwing up during practice and end where Ben Donovan told me he’d see me around. It takes forever to tell them the whole thing because Jillian keeps interrupting to ask random questions, like “What was Ben Donovan wearing?” and “Did he smile when he ate the truffle?” They both seem most interested in whether I think the spell worked or not.
“No,” I say. Then I see the look on Claire’s face and I amend my answer. “I don’t know. Maybe.” The light goes back on in Claire’s eyes. Maybe I’m just being grouchy. Even I have to admit that there’s something going on. I mean, why after nearly two and a half years of high school does Ben Donovan suddenly pick today of all days to notice me? And yet, he noticed me before he ate the chocolates. I don’t draw attention to that part, reminding myself that Claire needs this.
“So what about you guys?” I ask. “How did it go with you?” Claire starts laughing immediately and I’m surprised to see Jillian blush a little. “What?” I ask, feeling left out. It takes a minute before Claire can compose herself enough to actually speak.
“So during lunch, we’re sitting in our normal spot near the windows.” I nod. “And suddenly Jillian gets up.” Claire starts laughing again. “Brett and Sam were sitting by themselves over near the coffee bar.” I nod again. “So she just walks right over to them sits down at their table.” I look over at Jillian, who shrugs.
“What did they do?” I ask.
“At first they seemed surprised,” Jillian says. I’ll bet, I’m thinking. “But then I put the box of chocolates on the table. That got their attention.”
“So that wasn’t weird? Just walking up and giving them candy?” I ask.
“To a girl, yes. But guys are all about their stomachs.” Remembering the scene at breakfast, I nod.
“Then what happened?” I ask.
Jillian frowns. “That’s when their girlfriends showed up.”
“Ouch,” I say. “What did they say?”
Jillian shrugs. “I got out of there. I didn’t want some big drama.”
“Tell her the rest,” Claire says, still smiling. I look over at Jillian, but she doesn’t say anything. “So then we spent the rest of lunch watching the girlfriends feed Brett and Sam Jillian’s chocolates,” Claire says. I look back at Jillian, a little worried that she might be upset about it. The Plan w
as her idea after all, but she just waves her hand.
“It was a long shot,” she says. I wait for more explanation, but she just looks away. There is definitely something fishy about how Jillian is acting.
“Claire, tell Piper about you,” Jillian says, obviously trying to change my focus. It works. I look over at Claire. I know she was worried about giving the candy to Stuart. If I were Stuart I’d worry. Worry that they were poisoned. But Claire’s not that girl. She’s too nice.
“I dropped them off before rugby practice,” she says. “At first I was just going to give Alex his, but Stuart was right there and I pretended like it was no big deal, like I had extras so he might as well have them.” She looks down at her hands.
“Was it hard to see him?” I ask softly. She nods, but won’t look up at me. Tears fall onto the pillow she has cradled in her lap.
“I’m sorry,” she says. She pushes the pillow to the floor and hurries out of the room. I hear the bathroom door shut behind her. Jillian and I don’t say anything for a few moments.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I say quietly so Claire won’t overhear.
Jillian looks over at me and for the first time I see doubt in her eyes. “What else can we do?” she asks.
“Wait it out,” I say, but I think of my mother and how long it’s taking her to finally let go of Beau. I sigh. “She needs a distraction.”
“Like what?” Jillian asks.
There I’m at a loss. My phone barks. My mother. I pick it up. “Hello?” I say. It’s loud on her end. Voices and the whir of fans.
“Piper, I’m going to be late again,” she says. “I’ve already talked to Mrs. Bateman. She’s going to get Dom and Lucy ready for bed over there.”
“It’s okay, Mom. You don’t have to pay her for that. I’ll watch them.” My mother sighs and I can see her, fighting with herself, biting her lip.
“You sure?” she asks finally.
“I’m sure. I’ll just keep adding to that You Owe Me list I have going.”
She laughs. “It might be a long list before this season is out.”
Suddenly inspiration strikes. “Mom, why don’t you get some help?”
“I don’t have the time to find someone and then train them. And I can’t trust just anyone to take on some of this stuff.” The voices get louder and I hear my mother say something to someone there in the shop. “I have to go, Piper. I’ll call Mrs. Bateman back. Thank you again.”
“No problem,” I say, but the line is already dead. I toss the phone on the bed and look over at Jillian. “I am about to solve two problems with one stone.”
“Don’t you mean kill two birds with one stone?” Jillian asks.
“Yes, but that’s cruel.” She laughs and tosses a pillow at me. We hear the door to the bathroom open and Claire comes around the corner. She’s stopped crying, but her eyes are red and she’s sniffling into a tissue.
“I have the best idea in the whole world,” I say. Claire raises her eyebrows at me. I quickly explain that my mother needs help at the shop and I think it would really be good if she had something to do other than miss Stuart.
“I think it’s an excellent idea,” Jillian says. It sort of makes me mad that Claire seems unsure until Jillian says that. Like my opinion isn’t quite enough to make her consider it. “And,” Jillian says, drawing out the word, “being around all those flowers and all that romance is definitely going to get you in the Valentine’s Day spirit.” Why do I have the feeling that a new phase of The Plan is in the works?
“Did your mom okay this?” Claire asks.
“Oh, she will. My mother loves you,” I say. What I don’t say is that love her or not, my mother is desperate. Claire nods and gives one more sniff before reaching to throw her tissue in the trash. In the process, she accidentally knocks my heart paperweight off the desk. Papers go everywhere, and even though I tell her not to worry about it, she scrambles to pick them up. She picks up the last paper and looks at it.
“Jack?” she asks. It’s the slip of paper with my father’s phone number on it. I just nod. “Are you going to call him?” she asks.
“I’m thinking about it.” What I mean is that I’m trying not to think about it, but not succeeding very well.
“Who’s Jack?” Jillian asks. Before I can answer, she continues. “Is he cute?” I sigh, but then there’s a loud thump on the roof, saving me from answering.
Jillian doesn’t scream this time. She just jumps up, runs to my window and sticks her head out. “Hi, Charlie,” she says. I can’t hear exactly what he says, but I can hear his tone of voice and he sounds more than a little nervous. Jillian’s intensity can make anyone a little nervous.
“Tell him to come over,” I say, taking some pity on him. She tells him and pulls her head back in. Her eyes are shiny and her cheeks are flushed.
She sighs and pretends to fan herself like she’s Scarlett in Gone with the Wind or something. “He sure is yummy.” She is halfway out the door when she turns and looks at us. “Too bad we don’t have any more candy,” she says.
“Yes,” I say, remembering that Charlie already had some of it last night. “It is too bad.” Jillian starts down the stairs. I wait for Claire. I don’t know what else to say, so I just take her arm and give it a squeeze. We walk downstairs like that, arm in arm, and I feel a little like Scarlett myself, although our staircase is carpeted and narrow and I’m wearing jeans and a Jan the Candy Man shirt. And Claire is no Rhett Butler. I shake my head, wondering if all the romance in the air is making my brain mushy.
chapter ten
I watch Jillian and Charlie the whole time they’re together, trying to see Charlie the way she sees him. Jillian’s pretty much the same, only intensified. She tosses her hair around so much, I’m afraid she’s going to get whiplash. Charlie is like he always is too: nice and vaguely oblivious.
Jillian and Claire leave pretty much as soon as Lucy and Dom arrive. Not that I blame them. Those two know how to clear a room. Charlie asks if he can stay.
“Of course you can. I figured your dad was in the middle of something big,” I say
“Sort of,” Charlie says, not looking at me.
I start to ask what “sort of” means, but Dom starts yelling from the other room that he’s starving. I take a package of spaghetti from the pantry. Thinking about how much Charlie usually eats, I grab two.
Charlie sneaks a handful of baby carrots from the bag on the counter and starts munching on them. While I put a pot of water on to boil, I tell him about barfing in the pool and about how Peter had to buy me breakfast.
“You break up with him and then you make him buy you breakfast?” Charlie laughs. “Classic. I would have given a lot to have seen that.” Charlie doesn’t hide the fact that he’s not a big fan of the guys on the swim team at my school. I always tell him that he’d probably like them if he got to know them individually, but all he knows of them is when they are all together. It’s like one big testosterone fest. It’s not pretty. I start to tell him about Ben Donovan, but he’s not listening anymore. He’s staring out the window toward his house. “Charlie?”
“What?”
I tilt my head at him, but he just looks away. There is a big crash upstairs, then Miss Kitty shoots through the room like she has a string of firecrackers tied to her tail, which thankfully she does not. “Would you mind?” I ask, pointing at the ceiling where I can hear Dom and Lucy stomping around.
“No problem,” Charlie says. He grabs another handful of carrots and heads upstairs.
I smirk. “So he says.”
About halfway through boiling the pasta, I hear loud music start upstairs. I shake my head and finish setting the table. I call my mother at the shop, but it clicks over to voice mail. Either she’s too busy to pick up the phone or she’s on her way home. I set a fifth place for her, hoping for the latter. After draining the pasta, I go to the bottom of the stairs and yell that dinner is ready, but the music is too loud for me to be heard. I clim
b the stairs, unsure of what I’m going to find. I round the corner toward Dom and Lucy’s bedroom and stop, just watching. I smile, but it quickly becomes laughter. And it’s not Dominic’s wild jumping or Lucy’s imitation of a whirling dervish that makes me laugh, but Charlie’s strange gyrations that make him look like a cross between a salmon swimming upstream and a scarecrow with its head on fire.
Dom sees me first and waves. Lucy collapses on the floor and starts giggling, leaving Charlie to dance alone. I can’t stop laughing and it’s not just Charlie’s weird dancing, it’s him, how he always is with my little brother and sister. Charlie never bolts when they’re around. In fact, it’s the opposite. He actually seems genuinely bummed when they’re gone. I watch him for several more moments before taking pity on him.
Love? Maybe. Page 9