by A. R. Perry
Thankfully I don’t get to fret over how terrible of a person I am because my mom chooses that moment to walk into the house.
“What smells?” she calls from the front door and Jay swings his wide eyes my way.
“Stall her,” Jay says, shoving me toward the living room, as he jumps into action.
I stumble out of the door right as she’s taking off her shoes. “What happened to you?”
I glance down at my still wet shirt. Oh, right. My shirt looks like I put it on right out of the washer.
“I was doing dishes, and a spoon got me.” I force a laugh, praying she doesn’t see right through my lie since all I want to do is shout the truth.
“Okay. Why don’t you go wash up for dinner? I figured we would go out tonight.”
I narrow my eyes at her. She never wants to go out.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to go out? You hate restaurants. You always say you can cook it better and the last time we went for Jay’s graduation you sent your food back three times.”
She huffs, dropping her heels on the ground next to my dusty tennis shoes. “Why do you have to be difficult about everything?”
“I’m just wondering if my mom is a pod person.”
“Lyla Ann Underwood, go change and stop aggravating me.”
“Fine.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “Give me thirty minutes.”
“Please wash your hair and put on something besides jeans. This is a nice restaurant.”
Rolling my eyes, I walk past the kitchen where Jay is tossing the rest of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. When he catches my eyes, his brows shoot up in a silent question.
I shrug because I have no idea why we are going out as a family. Before I left, she was barely home for dinner, and then when she was, all she wanted to do was talk about college.
Whatever.
She just wants to show off her perfect college son to the town.
As I shut my door behind me, I dig my phone out of my pocket. Still no word from Shane, but I have six texts from Scarlett.
I shoot off a text telling her Momzilla is forcing dinner on us, then I pull up a new text conversation with Shane. Without thinking about it too hard, I type out a casual message asking how his mom is and if he’s settling in okay. I manage not to tell him I miss seeing him every day. Or that he should run for the hills because Jay will for sure be out for blood.
Not even one minute later, my phone dings as I’m tossing my soaking wet shirt into the hamper. A stupid smile breaks out all over my face when I see Shane’s name on the screen.
Shane: Sorry I’ve been MIA. Getting Mom settled. Maybe we can meet up for lunch tomorrow?
Me: Yes please.
Shane: Can’t wait. Is it weird to say I miss seeing you every day?
Me: I miss you too
Somehow I manage to erase the giddiness from my face by the time I step out into the hall. What a disaster that would be if I ran into Jay or my mom. They could get the truth out of me in five seconds flat.
With a new lightness in my chest that will carry me through this disastrous dinner, I hop in the shower and do as my mom asks, washing my hair twice for good measure.
By the time I’m dressed she’s pacing around the living room and Jay is sitting in the armchair in the corner watching her with the same suspicious expression I’m sure is on my face.
“Finally,” she snaps when she sees me. “We’re going to be late now. Throw on your shoes and let’s go.”
“I wasn’t aware there was a time constraint,” I mumble as I walk to the coat closet and pick out a black pair of flats to match the black-and-white polka dot dress I threw on.
“Why would we go to a restaurant without reservations?”
“Why would we go to a restaurant at all?”
Jay stands behind Mom and is trying not to laugh as steam prepares to shoot out of her ears.
Yes, I shouldn’t wind her up, but she makes it too easy.
“I’ll drive, Mama,” Jay says, coming to my rescue before she loses it. When she grabs her purse and stomps out the door, he shoots me a what are you doing? look.
All I can do is shrug. Sure, I could play along and be the perfect daughter, but after eighteen years I’m kinda sick of it.
“Cool it or she’s really going to kill me when she finds out about Alina.”
Right. So, he wasn’t doing anything but looking out for himself.
“Whatever,” I mumble.
Now I’m in a terrible mood. Not even another text from Shane could quell the irritation swirling inside my gut.
Why couldn’t camp be longer than three weeks?
Last night’s dinner went about as well as I expected. It ended up being more than the three of us since Mom invited half of her office so she could show off her perfect son. That oh-so-perfect son chickened out and didn’t breach the topic of his secret girlfriend, which left me grinding my teeth every time Mom asked us what was wrong. Later he told me he texted her not to come and would figure out a different time to tell Mom.
The fact that he blabbed to me, then refused to go through with his plan, annoys me more than anything. There isn’t enough room for my own secret, let alone an extra one added on top.
Once again I’m left wishing Shane and I were still in our bubble at camp. At least sneaking around and hiding from Mr. River would result in being sent home, not an all-out war between Mom and me and Shane and Jay.
Which is why I’m sneaking out my bedroom window to go meet Shane for lunch. We texted back and forth a bit this morning and I delayed our meetup hoping my lazy brother would pull himself from the couch and go find something interesting to do. But he didn’t. And since lunch is about to roll into dinner, I found myself with little other choice but to sneak out. There’s no way in hell Jay would let me leave without asking a bunch of questions. Sure, I could use Scar as an alibi, but I risk her accidentally slipping up.
So, yeah. Here I am, cursing as I battle my way through the bushes my mom planted under my window. I wonder if she did it on purpose to deter me from doing what I’m doing right now.
I slip out without face-planting only for my stupid laces catch on a branch and end up falling into a heap on the grass.
Mr. Mitchell next door gives me a weird look as he’s wheeling out his lawn mower, so I give him a lame wave and stand up.
There goes looking cute.
Now a huge grass stain covers my right knee and my once white shoes are splattered in mud.
Well, whatever. Shane saw me without a stitch of makeup and sweaty as hell for three weeks at camp. If he thought for one second, I would morph into someone like Scarlett once we got back that’s on him.
This is such a dumb idea. I should have canceled lunch with Shane or rescheduled for a time Jay would be gone, but a seriously insecure part of me was worried that if he didn’t hang out with me soon, he might get bored or realize that all we had was a summer fling.
With all the stealth of a freaking rhino, I creep across the lawn to the driveway. I’ve seen this in movies and I swear it seemed so much easier. Then again, those kids are shrouded in darkness since most of the time they are sneaking in or out past curfew. Here I am sneaking out in broad daylight. No wonder Mr. Mitchell looked at me as if I was a total weirdo.
I manage to make it to my car and hiss when I remember that I don’t own some fancy new electric hybrid vehicle. Sunshine was built in the 80s. She’s loud and proud and will alert the entire neighborhood of my departure.
With little other option, I bolt around the house and down the street before pulling out my phone and dialing Scarlett.
At least now my alibi is sorta true.
“Well look at that. You still have my phone number after all. I was starting to worry,” she greets me on the second ring, and before I get a word out.
“I texted you yesterday.”
“You texted me to blow me off yet again. So, unless you’re callin
g me to say you want to head to the nail salon, I’m not sure I got time to chitchat.”
Always so dramatic.
I roll my eyes and check behind me, paranoid my brother caught me running away from the house. “Nails tomorrow, I promise. But right now, I kinda need a tiny favor.”
“What is it?”
“I need you to come pick me up and drop me off at lunch with Shane.”
“What?” She bursts out laughing on the other side of the line. “You ditch me and want me to help you go hang out with your secret boyfriend? And why aren’t you driving? Did that POS break again?”
“Well, first I ditched you because my mom is all up my butt. I haven’t seen Shane since we left camp. And second, Sunshine is perfect. I just didn’t want Jay to catch me sneaking out.”
“Those all seem like very lame excuses.”
I sigh. “If you pick me up, I’ll tell you a juicy secret about Jay.” Okay, so I shouldn’t be spilling the beans before he can tell our mom, but it’s not like Scar will rat him out. Plus, if she knows he’s taken, maybe she’ll stop making googly eyes at him.
“Secret you say? Is it that he’s madly in love with me? ‘Cause that’s not really a secret.”
“Are you gonna come or what?” I lean against the white picket fence on the corner and check over my shoulder again.
“Be there in five.”
She hangs up before saying goodbye and I pull up Shane’s name to tell him I’ll be a little late.
Today we need to solidify a plan about telling Jay because this is already too much, and it’s only the first time we are hanging out since being back. I’m not cut out for the level of sleuthing needed to pull off a secret relationship. No clue how Jay has done it for so long.
Less than five minutes later, Scar whips her red convertible around the corner and skids to a stop with billowing smoke and all as if she’s my getaway car.
I hop inside with eyebrows raised and she laughs.
“Well, I figured this needed some kind of dramatic flair since you’re sneaking out of your house to meet up with a guy.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“So, what’s this juicy gossip about Jay?” she asks the moment we’re on the road.
“He has a girlfriend he’s hidden from us since freshman year.”
Her head whips my way. “What?”
“Yeah.” My phone dings and I look down to see a message from Shane telling me what restaurant to meet him at. “We’re going to Wingz. No chance Mom would ever step foot in there.”
“Because it’s gross.” Scar switches into the left lane. “So, a secret girlfriend, huh? No wonder he never tried anything with me.”
“He never tried anything because you’re my best friend and I would castrate him.”
“Says the girl dating his ex-best friend.”
I open my mouth but close it. I guess I don’t have a leg to stand on here. All of a sudden, I’m not hungry. I guess when we were up in the middle of nowhere, I didn’t think about everything that would go into dating Shane. Sure, I figured Jay might be pissed off, but I never saw myself sneaking around.
“Stop eating your hand. There won’t be anything for the nail tech to work with tomorrow.” Scarlett smacks my hand away from my face and I stare at my gnawed-off nail, wondering when I even started doing it.
I haven’t chewed my nails since I was in middle school.
“This was a mistake, huh?”
“What?”
“Shane.”
Her mouth twists to the side, and for a second, I think she might avoid the question. But then she clears her throat and throws me a pained look. “Maybe? I mean, you know your brother better than anyone. Even if you explain everything, is he going to be okay with it? There’s a reason they aren’t friends anymore. Do you know why?”
“No.” Okay. So, he mentioned it was because of me but I’m not telling her that right now. It will send her on a tangent and I don’t have the energy.
“So, start there? I don’t have all the answers here. But I don’t want to see you get hurt. Even though I’ve said it plenty of times and you haven’t listened so far I’m gonna say it again—this will end badly.”
I tuck my hands under my butt so I won’t be tempted to chew on them more. “I guess that’s what we need to discuss at lunch. If we can’t figure out a way to make it work, then there’s no point dragging it out. I just…” Trailing off, I suck my lower lip between my teeth.
“He’s the first guy you’ve really liked. I get it.” She reaches over and squeezes my arm. “I’ll be here no matter what. If you need a getaway car, I’m your girl. If you want to cry and not talk, I’ll sit right by you and hold your hand.”
“Thanks, Scar.”
“What are best friends for?” She rolls to a stop in front of the restaurant. “Looks like your guy is here.” Nodding toward Shane’s truck, she puts the car in Park. “Do you want me to wait for you?”
“No. I can have him drop me off a few blocks from home.”
“And if the conversation doesn’t go well?”
“He won’t leave me stranded.”
“Okay.” She holds up her hands in defeat. “Call me after.”
“‘Kay.” I lean in and smack a kiss to her cheek that leaves her squealing and wiping herself off as I climb out of her car.
I wish I could say I had panties of steel and was ready for whatever comes from this conversation, but that would be a lie. As I step inside the restaurant, a wave of nausea rolls over me and I have to stop and pray that I don’t do something embarrassing.
Shane and I might have only been sorta dating for a couple of weeks, but deep down I think I’ve always had a thing for him. Now that I’ve gotten a taste of what I’ve been missing all these years I’m not ready to let it go.
Hopefully, it won’t come to that.
Lyla looks adorably awkward as she runs a hand down the front of her black tank top and scans the restaurant.
As much as I want to sit here and admire her, I’m also starving since the last time I ate was dinner last night, so I stand up and wave, getting her attention.
“Hey,” she says when she’s standing in front of the table.
“Hey.” I smile as my gaze drops down her body and I notice the grass stains and dirt all over her jeans. “Get in a fight with your front lawn?”
“Something like that.” She takes the seat across from me and picks up a menu.
Something is up. She isn’t smiling and the way she’s fidgeting has me fighting the urge to reach over and press a palm to her knee to stop her leg from jumping.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“I haven’t been to this place since before you left for college. A few weeks before graduation, right?” She ignores my question and sets the menu down, surveying the inside.
Nothing has changed over the years. It’s a hole-in-the-wall wing place that has some of the best sauces in the world. Jay and I used to come here all the time, but I remember the day she’s referring to because that was the night I told Jay about my feelings for her.
Why did I bring her here?
“Yeah.” Now it’s my turn to avoid eye contact. I didn’t expect being back here to be this hard.
“This is awkward,” Lyla says on a sigh. We catch each other’s gazes. “Why is this so awkward?”
“Because we’re back in the real world?”
She blows a strand of hair out of her face, leaning forward to clasp her hands on the table. “Is this a mistake?” She motions between us, and my stomach clenches.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“I meant what I said at camp—about wanting to give this a try, but…” Her knee jumps restlessly, sending some of her nervous energy my way. “This won’t work until we’ve come clean with everyone. Jay will always come between us, and sneaking out the window is no longer an option. I’m not cut out for it.”
A slight smile tips my lips. “Is that what happened?” I gestu
re to the stains on her pants.
“I fought the window and the window won.” Both of us laugh and some tension eases. “But seriously. We need a plan. There are enough secrets in my house. I can’t be adding to them.”
Something in my chest tightens and I really want to ask if the secrets involve Jay, but I clamp my mouth shut. It’s not my place anymore. He made it clear that he doesn’t want me in his life.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask right as a peppy waitress walks up to our table.
“What can I get you two to drink?” she asks as if she’s speaking to us both but hasn’t taken her eyes off me once. Not even when Lyla answers.
“So, lemonade for her. What about you, handsome?”
“Same.” I put on my best bored face—the one I perfected in high school, and she gets the hint, sashaying away with a little too much swing to her hips.
“Man, I forgot,” Lyla says, her eyes narrowed in my direction.
“Forgot what?”
“How girls are around you and how you are with them.”
I throw my hands up in the air, palms out. “Hey, I didn’t do anything.”
“Yet that’s somehow part of the charm.”
“You think I’m charming?” I mean my words to be playful, but Lyla frowns.
“Aren’t you going to be embarrassed about dating a high school girl?”
“We’re dating?”
Lyla’s mouth drops open and she fumbles with her words. “Oh…I-I meant that, you know, casually. I didn’t mean—”
“Lyla,” I say, putting her out of her misery as I reach across the table and link my fingers through hers. “I’d like nothing more than to call you my girlfriend. But you’re right. We need to sort everything else out. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. Again.”
She smiles, giving my hand a squeeze. “So, what do we do? If we come right out and tell Jay he’s bound to die of an aneurysm.”
This is something I’ve been thinking about since the moment I realized there’s no way I can give her up again. Being together will be hard. We’re going to get judged and criticized and I might end up with a black eye, but it’s worth it. She’s worth it.