by Beth Reekles
‘Is everything okay?’ he asks.
‘Sure, why?’
‘You and O’Connor – it looked like you were having an argument.’
‘Oh, it was nothing.’ I smile. ‘Just a misunderstanding.’
‘Are you sure?’ His brow furrows with concern for me, and for a second I consider telling him. Everything Todd said was true, I know that, and I have known since I stopped being friends with Allie. But hearing someone else say it made it feel a lot more real, and a lot worse; now, it weighs heavily on my chest and I have the words on the tip of my tongue to confide in Josh, but . . .
I don’t.
Josh leans a little closer. ‘You know you can talk to me about anything, right?’
I just smile and say, ‘Sure. Everything’s fine.’
He kisses me on the temple, and I lean against him, listening to them all talk about a movie I’ve never seen but apparently everyone else has at some point. The sun is warm on my face and arms, and I look over the field at Todd. He’s laughing at something, head thrown back.
And I realize that it’s been a long time since my so-called friends have made me laugh like that.
‘You’re babysitting the Freeman twins tonight, aren’t you?’ Dad says, buttering some toast. He’s still dressed in his suit from work, even though he’s been home all afternoon. We had to get a plumber in to fix the leak in the kitchen sink, so Dad said he could work from home while the plumber was here.
‘Yeah,’ I say, pouring myself a glass of apple juice.
‘So you don’t want dinner with us?’
‘Nah, Mrs Freeman said I could help myself to something over at their place. She said there’s plenty of leftover meatloaf.’
Dad nods.
‘I, um, I asked Todd to come babysit with me.’
His eyebrows shoot up. ‘And here I thought you were just carpooling with the guy to save gas money. You two are pretty good friends, then, huh?’
‘I guess so. I mean . . .’ I sigh. ‘I don’t know. We argue, sometimes, but . . .’ But only when he’s being brutally honest. ‘ . . . I like him.’
‘What does Josh think of him?’
I tilt my head to the side. ‘Does it matter?’
Dad shrugs. Then he says, ‘We haven’t seen Josh for a while. Is everything okay with you two?’
I start to say of course it is, but I stop myself. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Have you guys had a fight? I thought you forgave him when he came to apologize for Friday night.’
‘It’s not that simple . . .’
‘Let me guess: the boy next door has stolen your heart?’
I laugh. ‘Not quite. Things have just felt weird lately between me and Josh. Like, I don’t miss him when I’m not with him. Is that bad?’ I don’t add the bit about how since last Friday I’ve been stressing out that he thinks I’m a prude and weird and frigid. Not the sort of thing I want to bring up in conversation with either one of my parents.
‘You both need your space,’ he says, probably repeating something he’s heard women say on TV.
‘Shouldn’t I miss him all the time when I’m not with him, though? Shouldn’t I want to be with him all the time?’
Dad takes a long, thoughtful bite of toast, chewing carefully. ‘Well . . .’ His cell starts vibrating violently on the kitchen counter, and he mutters, ‘Damn, I have to take this. Sorry, Ashley. Hello? Yes – yes, hi, great to hear from you . . . No, everything’s great – ha-ha, yes . . .’ Balancing the cellphone between his ear and shoulder, carrying his toast in one hand and coffee in the other, he heads back to the office.
I sigh, and down the last of my apple juice, putting the empty glass by the sink. Maybe I’m just thinking too much about this . . .
I go to my room to gather some calculus homework to take to the Freemans’, in case I get chance to work on it, and change into a sweater from my thin T-shirt. By then, it’s close to five thirty, so I call goodbye to my dad, who’s still on the phone so shouts back a quick, ‘Bye, Ashley!’ through the door.
I go out to wait on the sidewalk, rocking back and forth on my feet with the crisp autumn air blowing some loose hair from my braid around my face. I tuck the strands behind my ear, out of the way.
I’m not waiting long for Todd.
The sound of his front door opening, and the creak of a footstep on the porch makes me look up. I raise a hand in greeting. ‘Hey.’
He shoulders his backpack, which is looking a lot less bulky than usual. ‘Hey. Ready to go?’
‘Yep.’
‘You weren’t waiting long, were you?’ he says, as we start to head off in the direction of number eighteen.
‘Nah, only a minute or so.’
He nods, and starts telling me about how unfair his geography teacher is, setting them a midterm next Monday – ‘It’s not even the middle of the semester yet!’ – and how geography is his worst subject – ‘I mean, what do I care about rock formations?’
‘Geography’s not that bad,’ I say. ‘I’ll help you make some flash cards. It’s easy.’
‘Thanks,’ he says, looking genuinely grateful. ‘I appreciate it.’
‘But only if you help me with my calculus homework.’
‘Ah, calculus. The bane of my life.’
I laugh, and we turn up the drive of number eighteen. I ring the doorbell, and there’s some shouting inside as they debate who’s best positioned to answer the door, and then it’s thrown open by Mrs Freeman. In the corner of my eye, I can see Todd twirling his guitar pick between his fingers.
‘Oh, Ashley, hi!’ She smiles, stressed, fixing an earring into place. Her eyes flit to Todd. ‘Is this your boyfriend?’
‘No!’ I say quickly. ‘No, this is my next-door neighbor, Todd. Is it okay for him to keep me company? I—’
‘Are you trying to tell me my precious monsters are too much of a handful for one person?’ Arching an eyebrow at me, she plants her hands on her hips with that stern look that only moms seem to be able to do. Then she drops the facade and laughs. ‘I can’t say I blame you for bringing reinforcements. It’s very nice to meet you, Todd.’
They shake hands and she steps back to let us inside, where we both start taking our shoes off while trying to listen to her instructions.
‘Now, they’ve both had a bath, and there’s plenty of meatloaf and mashed potatoes in the refrigerator for dinner, and some peas in the freezer. Ethan will try and convince you he’s allergic to peas – he did with the last two babysitters – but don’t pay him any attention. Bedtime at eight thirty, and Alice likes to have the nightlight kept on.’
It’s nothing she didn’t tell me the last time I babysat, about a month ago, but I pretend like this is all new information I’m absorbing carefully.
‘Roger that.’
‘Are you almost ready?’ Mr Freeman calls from upstairs. ‘We have to leave in ten minutes, Julie!’
‘Yes, yes!’ Turning back to me, she adds strictly, ‘And no sugar before dinner!’
‘Got it, Mrs Freeman.’
‘And our numbers are on the refrigerator door, if you need us, but if you can’t get hold of us, then their grandparents’ numbers are on there too, and—’
I laugh. ‘It’ll be fine, really. I’ve babysat them before, remember?’
‘Okay. Well, go on in the lounge and make yourself at home. The kids are in there watching a movie.’
Todd and I head into the lounge, and I say brightly, ‘Hey, kids!’
Alice’s head spins around and she grins at me. ‘Ashley! Hi!’ Her eyes fall on Todd and widen a little. ‘Is this your boyfriend?’
‘No,’ I say hastily.
‘We’re just friends,’ Todd pitches in.
‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ I reiterate. ‘This is Todd, he lives next door to me.’
‘Oh.’ Her smile droops with disappointment. ‘Look, Ashley, I got ninety per cent on my homework.’ She runs to the cabinet, snatches up some paper, and thrusts it in my face, s
miling widely at me with her front tooth missing.
‘That’s great, sweetie!’ I gush, crouching next to her. ‘What about you, Ethan, how did you do on your homework?’
He mumbles, and Alice says, ‘He only got seventy because I told him he wasn’t allowed to copy me.’
‘Seventy is still really good, Ethan,’ I tell him. The twins look very similar, both with button noses and the same shade of sandy blond hair, both with narrow shoulders and slight frames. But they’re as different as night and day; it’s a struggle to get Alice to shut up sometimes, and you have to be really patient to get Ethan to talk to you.
‘Thanks,’ he mumbles.
‘What movie are we watching?’ Todd asks, sitting down on the floor with his back against the couch, near where Ethan is lying on his stomach. He is drawing the vase of flowers on the cabinet, his tongue poking out a little as he concentrates.
‘Kung Fu Panda,’ Alice replies. ‘It’s one of Ethan’s favorites. Have you seen it?’
‘No,’ Todd says. ‘Is it good, Ethan?’
Ethan just nods.
‘Is that art homework?’ I ask Ethan.
He nods again. Todd gives me a curious look, and I just smile and shrug as if to say ‘What can you do?’ and he lets it drop.
Mr and Mrs Freeman leave only three minutes behind schedule (pointed out a little irritably by Mr Freeman as he stands by the car and his wife talks me once again through the kids’ schedule and the numbers on the refrigerator door.
‘It’ll be fine, Mrs Freeman, really.’ I smile widely, confident. ‘Trust me.’
Chapter Thirteen
‘I can’t have peas,’ Ethan tells me, peering into the pan of boiling water where the peas are cooking. He tilts his head to look me in the eye. ‘I’m allergic to peas.’
‘No, you’re not.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because I can read minds,’ I tell him gravely. ‘So I know you’re lying to me.’
He scowls at me, not believing a word of what I just said. ‘My mom told you, didn’t she?’
‘Yep.’
His shoulders sag and he slumps away back to the table to sit opposite his twin. Todd takes the meatloaf out of the oven while I plate up the peas, and the microwave beeps shrilly for the third time in the last minute to remind me that the potato is reheated. I divide it out, having to dodge past Todd as he turns around with a hot baking tray in his hands.
The twins don’t talk much over dinner, and Ethan pouts the whole time, poking his peas around the plate and sighing like, every thirty seconds. I’m tempted to tell him to stop sulking and eat the damn peas, but I hold my tongue.
There’s ice cream and chocolate sauce for dessert. Once we all finish dinner, I start doing the dishes, Todd on drying duty, while the twins eat dessert.
‘Sorry for dragging you into this,’ I say, feeling only a little bit guilty. ‘I know you probably had better things to do with your evening than this.’
‘It’s okay.’ He smiles, meeting my eyes briefly before turning to put away a glass. ‘I don’t mind hanging out with you.’
‘Well, thanks. It’s nice to have some company.’
‘Doesn’t Josh ever come with you?’
I snort, loudly. ‘As if. Josh would hate babysitting, and the only time I did ask him, he said he’d do some homework. That’s how desperate he was for an excuse not to come along – homework.’
‘And we all know Josh isn’t the greatest advocate of homework.’
‘Yep.’ I scrub a little more vigorously at some meatloaf burned onto the baking tray.
‘Ashley . . .’ I glance over and see Todd bite his lip briefly. ‘Tell me if this is out of line, I don’t mean for it to be, but . . . what do you see in him? I mean, really.’
‘Well . . .’
‘If you tell me it’s all down to his cute butt, I might puke.’
I laugh. ‘Not all down to the cute butt. He’s good to me, you know? And I’d never had anybody like Josh interested in me before. He sort of swept me off my feet.’
He made me feel like I mattered, I add silently, like I wasn’t invisible any more.
‘And, uh . . . about what you said earlier, at lunch. About me not having my own friends. Truth is, I lost all my friends when I lost Allie, and they don’t want me back now. Why should they? I dropped them like that’ – I snap my fingers, spraying a little water into the air – ‘for some popularity and a boyfriend. I haven’t got friends because I pushed them away, and I hang out with Josh’s friends because I’m scared of being alone.’
I don’t know how I manage to say it all with such a steady voice, but I’m glad that I do.
He nods, and if he’s going to say anything else, he doesn’t get a chance as he’s interrupted by Alice jumping down from the table, declaring that she needs to use the bathroom. I take the opportunity to change the topic of conversation. All this talking about my relationship with Josh and my lack of friends is making me uncomfortable; my stomach is knotting itself up.
‘So I figure we put a movie on for the twins and get on with some homework?’
I can see the flash of annoyance on Todd’s face, but he doesn’t say anything except a muttered, ‘Sure, whatever.’
Alice picks Monsters University for us to watch, and she sits at one end of the couch, playing Angry Birds on her mom’s iPad. Ethan sits at the other end, alternating between playing Pokémon on his Nintendo, and watching the movie.
Todd and I sit on the other couch, binders and notebooks propped on our laps as we work quietly through my calculus homework.
‘See?’ he says, tapping the page lightly with his fingertip. ‘It’s easy.’
I run a hand over my neck, grimacing. ‘Yeah, sure, maybe for you . . .’
‘I thought you were good at math? And pretty much everything else.’ I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘You leave your assignments on the backseat of the car, sometimes. You get As in almost everything,’ he continues.
I feel my cheeks warming a little. ‘Calculus has never been my strong point.’
‘Have you always been good at school?’ he asks, leaning back to rest his elbow on the arm of the couch and his head in his hand.
‘I guess so . . .’
‘You don’t have to look so embarrassed,’ he tells me, smiling softly. ‘What, do you not want to be called a nerd, or something? It’s not like there’s anyone around to hear.’
‘No, I don’t care about that, so much, it’s just . . . I don’t know. I like learning, that’s all. I always have. And if I do my best in school, I can get into a really good college. Hopefully, try and get an academic scholarship, too.’
Todd nods, and his smile drops a little, and his eyes turn to the TV screen. ‘I’m trying hard this year. I almost had to redo the whole year, did I tell you that? My dad managed to convince the principal here that I’d knuckle down and do well. And I’m trying, you know? It doesn’t come as easy to me as it does to you, though, I don’t think.’
‘You’re good at calculus,’ I offer.
‘I’m good at math, but not much else – not naturally, at least. I like reading and I like finding out new things, but school . . .’ He shakes his head and blows air upwards, making his hair flutter away from his forehead. ‘I just want to get into a decent college, but B-plus average might not get that.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ I reassure him. ‘Seriously, a B-plus average is good. And there’s plenty of time to make that an A, if you want. It’s only, like, halfway through October.’
He grunts in response, reminding me of Josh for a moment.
‘Ashley?’ Alice asks, dragging my name out to about five syllables.
‘Yeah?’
‘If Todd’s not your boyfriend, then who is?’
I smile, setting my binder on the floor with my pen. ‘A boy called Josh, from school.’
‘Oh. Do you love him?’
‘Yes, I do,’ I tell her.
‘Do you love Todd as well?’
I grit my teeth to suppress a groan. Alice and Ethan are seven years old, so I guess I should’ve expected Alice to pester me with questions like this when I brought Todd along.
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Don’t you like him?’
‘Well – well, yes, I do like Todd.’
I can feel Todd shaking with repressed laughter next to me, his leg quivering against mine. I also know that I’m blushing, probably horrendously, judging by how hot my cheeks feel. I smack Todd’s thigh lightly, a signal for him to shut up.
‘Then why isn’t Todd your boyfriend?’
‘Because – because Todd’s my friend, and Josh is my boyfriend.’
She huffs, not satisfied with this answer. ‘But why don’t you want Todd to be your boyfriend? I think Todd’s very nice.’
‘Josh is very nice as well, Alice.’
She decides to turn her attention to Todd, and I feel him stiffen a little under the sudden scrutiny of a pouting, scowling, seven-year-old. ‘Have you got a girlfriend?’
‘Noooo . . .’ He says it like he’s almost terrified of answering, and that’s when I start having to try not to laugh.
‘Why don’t you want Ashley to be your girlfriend, then?’
‘Ashley has a boyfriend,’ he says, patiently. ‘And you should only have one at a time.’
‘Oh. Do you like her?’
‘Yes.’
‘I think you should ask her out on a date.’ It’s like Alice has almost forgotten I’m here. All the years of middle school and high school, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt more awkward than I do right now. Not even when I spilled grape soda down my white top in ninth grade, and had to walk around with a purple stain on my shirt the rest of the day, with everyone snickering at me.
‘I’ll think about it,’ Todd tells her, seriously. Finally satisfied, she turns back to the movie.
I get up and leave the room. Todd isn’t far behind me. His footsteps are heavy on the carpet as he trails after me to the kitchen. I lean against the counter when he stops in the doorway.
‘Sorry you got dragged into that,’ I mumble. I press a hand to my cheeks. They’re still hot. ‘I, um . . .’
‘It’s okay. She’s seven. What’re you gonna do?’