Julie was aghast. “You actually thought I’d . . . and you’ve been watching the house all this time?”
Quinn pulled her more tightly to him, pinioning her arms. She couldn’t move.
“Don’t try to change the subject, Julie. What about that note?” His voice was quiet and menacing.
“I don’t know anything about a note. Are you making this up or what? Let me go. You’re hurting me.”
Quinn loosened his hold slightly. “I found a note—the note—on top of my books this afternoon after school. You’d already left. It was from Nick to you, telling you where to meet him. Nick hates my guts now, after yesterday. I thought he put it there to show me he’d moved in on you.”
“It doesn’t even make sense,” Julie said, shaking her head. “If the note was to me, I’d have it, wouldn’t I, not him?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Maybe Nick was just yanking my chain,” Quinn said, after thinking it over for a few moments. “I swear, Julie, I was so freaked out at the thought of him and you, I didn’t know what I was doing. I just went crazy, I guess.”
Julie struggled to free herself from his grasp. How many times had she heard that? How many more times would she hear it?
Quinn pulled her to him again and kissed her hard. As if he were punishing her, showing her who was boss.
There was a light tapping at the door.
“Julie?” Mollie whispered. “Are you all right in there?”
Frantic, Julie pushed Quinn toward the window. “Go. If my parents find out you’re here, we’re both in big trouble.”
When she finally opened the door to Mollie, her sister regarded her suspiciously. “I heard someone talking in here. I didn’t know what to think.”
“It was the radio,” Julie said.
Mollie looked unconvinced, but replied, “As long as you’re okay, then. It’s just that your voice sounded kind of . . .”
She took another look around the room. “Well, good night, Julie.”
Is this a crazy dream? Julie asked herself after Mollie left. Did Quinn really crawl through my window and accuse me of secretly dating Nick Wells?
She put her hand to her mouth. She could still feel Quinn’s fierce kiss on her lips.
No, it wasn’t a dream.
If only it had been.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Quinn sat in his car, still staring at the house. He could see Julie’s room from this angle. He watched it until the light went out.
His hands were trembling on the wheel. He’d been nearly out of his mind at the thought of Julie—his Julie—out with that stuck-up Nick creep.
He should have known better. Julie wouldn’t do something like that. Julie would never betray him.
Betray.
He’d looked that word up in the dictionary once when he and Alison . . .
Well, he’d looked the word up, and it meant “be a traitor to, prove faithless, deliver up to an enemy.”
If Julie had gone out with Nick, she’d have been doing all those things. She was his. He loved her and he wanted her to love him the same way. Completely. Totally. And for the rest of her life.
He’d loved Alison that way once. Yes, he could allow himself to think of her now that he was certain he and Julie would be together forever.
He’d fallen in love with Alison—or at least he’d thought it was love—the first time he saw her. Of course, that was four years ago, when he was only fourteen, so what had he known about love then? At the time, though, he’d thought it was the real thing.
How could I have been so dumb? So obsessed? he asked himself. He’d tried to make Alison notice him, even though he knew she was way above him. She was like a princess, and he was just a skinny kid from the crummiest part of town.
Maybe he shouldn’t have followed her home from school all the time and hung around her neighborhood day and night, watching her house, but he couldn’t help himself.
But Alison didn’t like all that attention. Didn’t like him trailing her in the halls at school and following her home afterward. She’d complain and tell him off, but her coldness only made him more enchanted, more in love with her.
And then he started watching her through her bedroom window. He found he could hide behind a bush and . . . But that was when her old man caught him and threatened to report him to the police.
He didn’t report him, though, not out of kindness but because he didn’t want a family scandal. The next day at school Alison had said, “You better leave me alone from now on, Quinn McNeal. Leave me alone or you’ll be sorry. Really sorry.”
But he couldn’t leave her alone. He tried, and it just wouldn’t work. He loved her too much.
So that’s when Alison and her rich little girl friends and their dumb jock buddies did that terrible thing to him. . . .
Quinn realized he’d been biting his lip so furiously that he’d drawn blood.
I shouldn’t let myself think about that night, he told himself. The shrink at The Place said I have to let it go. It’s all in the past now, and there’s no reason to hang on to it anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY
On Monday morning Julie found Tara, Jessica, and Shelley waiting for her on the front steps of the school, the way they used to before she and Quinn became an item.
There was no sign of Quinn. His car wasn’t in the parking lot, either.
I hope he isn’t still angry, Julie thought fearfully, rubbing her arms where Quinn had grabbed her Friday night. Something had to be done about Quinn’s crazy jealousy. And soon.
Tara came over to her, followed by Shelley and Jessica.
“How was your weekend, Julie?” she asked with a sly smile.
“Fine,” Julie said uncertainly, wondering what Tara was up to. It was clear by the expression on Tara’s face that it was something nasty.
Julie tried to act normal and casual. “I went—”
Tara interrupted, a look of fake girlish interest on her face. “How was your date with Quinn Friday night? Did you have a good time?”
Shelley and Jessica were exchanging furtive glances. As usual, they were transparently obvious. What were those three trying to pull now?
Julie suddenly realized what it was. Of course, she thought. Why didn’t I think of it right away? It was Tara who wrote that note and put it in Quinn’s books.
But why?
To make trouble between us, that’s why.
“Why are you interested in my weekends all of a sudden, Tara?” Julie asked.
Tara widened her gray eyes innocently. “Why, Julie, I’ve always been interested in your love life. Remember when the four of us would tell each other everything?”
“That was then. This is now. And the three of you have been giving me the cold shoulder ever since I started going with Quinn.”
Tara sputtered a little protest, but Julie cut her off.
“Obviously you’re responsible for what happened Friday night,” she said, her anger building.
“You wrote that note, didn’t you? And you put it on Quinn’s books so he’d be sure to see it. And I know why. You were trying to make trouble between Quinn and me.”
She went on, knowing even as she spoke that she was handling the situation badly. She was too angry now. She was losing her head. Her questioning was coming out all wrong, making her seem paranoid and unstable.
“So don’t think you’re pulling the wool over my eyes, Tara, with your chummy little best-friends act,” she concluded. “And if you think you can break up Quinn and me, then guess again.”
Tara was regarding her with a look of puzzled concern, one delicate eyebrow raised in ladylike astonishment. Her two hangers-on, Jessica and Shelley, were also playing their parts to perfection, looking at Julie as if she were a raving maniac.
Why are Jess and Shelley doing this? Julie wondered. Were they really that much under Tara’s thumb? How could they let Tara dominate them the way she did?
Was I that easily led, once?
Not th
at much, maybe, but yes. Tara led me around by the nose, too. It’s good to be free of her now.
“Honestly, Julie,” Tara finally said with pretended concern. “I think you’re losing it entirely. Why would I try to break up you and Quinn? It was probably just one of those macho male things, you know? We all know Nick and Quinn hate each other’s guts after that big jealous act Quinn pulled in the parking lot last week.”
The hostile, envious look Tara shot Julie when she said that told her Tara wouldn’t mind having Quinn act jealous over her.
“So maybe Nick decided to play a little joke on Quinn,” Tara went on, regaining her cool. “He knows Quinn would totally hit the roof if he thought you were dating somebody else.” Then she said wistfully, sweetly, “I’m just hurt, Julie, terribly hurt, that you would ever think I’d do something like that to you.”
I should have known, Julie thought as Tara turned and walked away. I should have realized that Tara always wins.
Quinn didn’t show up at school until noon. Julie was headed toward the cafeteria when he caught up with her.
She didn’t like the way he looked. His lips were set in a tight, thin line, and his eyes were dark and glaring.
He’s probably been brooding all weekend about what he thinks Nick did to him, Julie thought with a shiver. I’ve got to tell him what really happened before he sees Nick.
Pulling him aside, she said, “Quinn, listen to me. I know who pulled that trick on us Friday night.”
“So do I,” he said grimly. “Nick Wells.”
“No, it wasn’t Nick. It was Tara.”
Quinn looked at her in disbelief. “Tara? Why would she do something like that? What’s she got to do with us?”
His eyes shifted from her face to the far end of the hall. He was still looking for Nick.
“Tara has a lot to do with us, can’t you see?” Julie clutched his arm. “She’s jealous of me—us—and wants to come between us, so—”
“That’s crazy, Julie. You’re imagining things. It was Nick, and I’m going to punch him out for it when I see him.”
He started to leave, but Julie pulled him back.
“No, Quinn, don’t do that! You’ll only be making trouble for yourself. You’ll be put on suspension for starting a fight. Mr. Reed really comes down hard on things like that.”
“I can’t help how I feel, Julie. I’d like to smash Nick’s face in.”
“You don’t mean that. I know you, and you couldn’t possibly feel that . . . that violent about somebody.”
“Then you don’t really know me, Julie. There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
“Promise me, Quinn. You’ve got to promise you won’t hit Nick!”
Julie was trembling. “Please,” she repeated. “For me. Please.”
“All right,” he said, almost as if he were humoring her. “I promise I won’t hit Nick.”
Was it her imagination, or did he stress the word “hit”?
Quinn’s promise, if it really was a promise, lasted only until they were seated at a table in one corner of the cafeteria.
Suddenly, glancing across the table, Julie saw Quinn’s face change. The dark look of anger came into his eyes. It was a look she was learning to recognize, and dread.
She turned around to see what he was staring at. It was Nick, headed toward his usual table with a loaded tray.
Before she could stop him, Quinn jumped to his feet.
“No, Quinn! You promised,” she said, but it came out a whisper.
Quinn walked over to Nick. One corner of Julie’s mind appreciatively recorded the fact that Quinn was as lithe and lean as a jungle cat.
And then, just like a cat, he moved. With one quick motion he flipped the tray up and into Nick’s face.
Spaghetti and chocolate pudding dripped from Nick’s startled face.
“Hey! What the—?” he sputtered. “Dammit, I’m going to get you for this one, McNeal!”
“Food fight!” someone in the cafeteria yelled, but it was quickly squelched.
One of the lunchroom monitors rushed over to investigate. Fortunately it was only Ms. Magnussen, a first-year teacher, so Nick and Quinn were able to pretend that what had happened was an accident and get away with it. Julie hoped Quinn would notice that Nick was no squealer.
As soon as Ms. Magnussen left, Quinn turned on his heel and left the cafeteria. Half sobbing, Julie followed him.
She found him in the parking lot, sitting in his car. She got in beside him.
“We need to talk,” she said.
“You’ve been saying that a lot lately,” he replied angrily.
Why did his mouth, that mouth she loved so, twist in a sneer when he said that?
“Yes, I know,” she said, trying to sound reasonable and soothing. “But we never have. At least we’ve never gotten anywhere with it.”
“So what do you want to tell me?”
“I don’t want to tell you anything, Quinn. Telling isn’t communicating. And we’ve got to communicate about this awful jealousy of yours.”
“Jealousy? Jealousy has nothing to do with what that loser, Nick, did to us.”
“That’s what we have to talk about,” Julie argued. “Nick had nothing to do with it. It was Tara. Tara’s trying to break us up.”
“What are you saying, Julie?”
“That it was Tara, not Nick, who wrote that note. But what really matters is the way you’re acting. Can’t you see? You’re so jealous and possessive of me. It’s gotten worse over the past couple of weeks, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
“I don’t know what you’ve got to complain about,” Quinn said sulkily. “I thought you’d like a guy who acts like he really cares about you.”
“I do. Quinn, I love you, but—”
Quinn’s sullen look disappeared. He smiled and tried to put his arms around her, but she moved away from him on the car seat.
“No. Please don’t do that,” she said quietly. “There’s been too much of that. It only confuses the issue.”
“Oh, come on, Julie. . . .”
“Listen to me, Quinn. It isn’t good, this jealousy thing. We shouldn’t let the fact that we’re a couple cut us off from other activities and friendships at school.”
Quinn’s eyes flashed. “Are you telling me you want to go out with other guys?” he demanded hotly.
His face was wild. Crazy looking. Julie was frightened.
“No, of course not,” she said hastily. “Why would I want to go out with someone else? You know how I feel about you. Why, you . . . you’re . . . It’s just that I think we have a problem we have to work out.”
Quinn started the car. He revved the engine, his foot tromping heavily on the pedal.
“I’m out of here,” he said curtly. “This conversation’s crazy—and getting crazier. I need some space.”
Julie got out of the car and went around to the driver’s side. She put her head in the window for a good-bye kiss.
“I wish you’d stay and talk,” she said.
Quinn didn’t reply. He revved the motor again and suddenly the car shot forward. He sped out of the parking lot without a backward glance.
Julie was left standing, shocked. She’d barely had time to withdraw her head and shoulders from the window when he took off.
What if I hadn’t? she asked herself, trembling. She pressed her hands to her cheekbones, imagining the crunch of bone if the side of the car had hit her.
I could have been hurt, she thought.
And what was that he shouted at her as he took off? It had been hard to hear him over the squealing of tires as he peeled away.
It sounded like, “Good-bye, Alison!”
The afternoon crept by slowly.
Julie wondered if she should go to the nurse’s station and plead sick so she could go home. She couldn’t ever remember feeling this depressed. It almost hurt to draw a breath. She felt as if there were a tight band around her chest.
But if she did go home,
there would be even more talk around school than there was now. No, she would make it through the day somehow, and hold her head high, too.
Brad came up to her after English lit and said, “Look, Julie, I was there in the cafeteria when Quinn did his fun-with-food thing.”
Julie looked at him wearily. “So?”
“So I think you need a friend.” He tapped his shoulder. “You’re welcome to cry on this anytime you want, even if it means Quinn will come and rip my head off.”
He spoke flippantly, the way he always did, but his blue eyes were gentle and concerned.
And to think I had him pegged for a conceited, stuck-up playboy, Julie thought sadly. I guess he tried to be a friend all along, but I didn’t see it that way.
What a shame she wasn’t in love with Brad, instead of Quinn. Wouldn’t everything be easy then?
Brad seemed to read her thoughts. “You know, Julie, I wish I was able to act real cool and laid-back around you, the way Quinn does. Then maybe it would be you and me, instead of you and him. But you’re so pretty and sweet and totally lovable, that I get stupid whenever I’m around you. And so I just have to stand up and make a perfect fool of myself.”
Julie laughed faintly, near tears. She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on his cheek. “Now, now, Brad. Nobody’s perfect.”
Brad smiled. But his voice was serious as he said, “Remember, Julie, if you ever want anybody to talk to, I’m here for you. And I’m good at keeping my mouth shut, too, about anything you say.”
Julie resisted an urge to cry. Biting her lower lip to keep it from quivering, she said, “Thanks, Brad. You’re a good friend. I might take you up on that sometime.”
Julie waited all evening for Quinn to call, to apologize, to make things right between them, but the phone was silent.
She couldn’t bear to think about how he’d revved his car and sped away like that, nearly ripping her head off.
She would have liked to talk to someone about it, but she was too ashamed. She almost felt as if it were her fault, as if she had done something to deserve the punishment Quinn had just given her.
How can I let some guy take advantage of me this way? she asked herself. Julie wanted no part of this. She didn’t want to be anyone’s victim.
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