by Beth Reekles
It makes me realize that it’s the complete opposite with Todd – all of the casual, familiar touches; even if they are totally platonic, and just come so easily and feel totally natural. Even if I don’t like him in that way.
When it’s nine fifteen, I reach across the table and give the sleeve of Allie’s cardigan a tug to get her attention. ‘Hey, we should probably head off now.’
‘What time is it?’
‘Like, nine fifteen.’
She nods. ‘Sure, I’ll just finish this’ – she stirs the straw around the last bit of her milkshake – ‘and then we’ll head off.’
So the three of us finish our drinks – and sundae, in Todd’s case – and shuffle out of the booth, leaving the others to it.
‘I plan on staying out for as long as I can get away with,’ Ben says. ‘The less I’m around to hear the entire family arguing over the best way to cook turkey, or whether we should watch the parade or the football, the better Thanksgiving will be.’
I shove my purse at Todd so I can put my jacket on more easily, and he swings it over his shoulder.
I grin. ‘It suits you. Red is definitely your color.’
‘Yeah, I guess so.’ He tugs on one of my curls pointedly, and I bat him away.
‘Jerk,’ I mutter. I take my purse back, and catch Amanda’s eye past Todd’s shoulder. She gives me a look, with that secretive smile, and I know she’s thinking about our conversation in the bathroom.
I give her a look in response – one with cynical eyes and a smile that says ‘Oh, please’ and then we leave, waving goodbye one last time as we head outside to my car, our breath fogging up in the chill air. I shiver, and zip my jacket all the way up to my chin. Allie’s well prepared, her hat and gloves on already.
‘Here.’ Todd drapes his scarf around my shoulders, and gives me a wide smile.
‘Thanks.’ It smells like him. I resist the urge to bury my nose in it and inhale deeply.
My engine stutters when I turn on the car, and the heating doesn’t kick in until we’re halfway home. ‘I should probably get that checked,’ I say out loud, as we pull up at Allie’s house and the engine makes a chugging sort of noise.
‘It can’t hurt,’ Allie agrees. She leans between the seats to give us both awkward, one-armed hugs. ‘Okay, so I probably won’t see you guys until Sunday, but have a great Thanksgiving and eat way too much food and have fun!’
‘You too! Say hi to all the family from me!’ I yell as she gets out.
‘See you around!’ Todd calls.
On the drive back to our houses, Todd says, ‘You know Jennifer? With the short blond hair, glasses.’
‘Jennifer Carter? Yeah, she’s in my art class. What about her?’
I can see him twirling the guitar pick around his fingertips in a gray blur. ‘We went on a date last week. Two, actually.’
I almost slam on the brakes, I’m so shocked, but I manage to maintain my composure and keep driving. My mouth suddenly feels like I’ve swallowed sawdust. ‘Huh. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it in case it was a disaster. You were busy hanging out with Allie, so you didn’t notice. We went to the movies one night, and out for dinner on Sunday.’
The milkshake suddenly isn’t sitting so easily in my stomach. ‘Do I take it from the fact you’re telling me that these two dates went well?’
Jennifer is bubbly and outgoing and one of those people who gets on with everybody. Somehow I just can’t see her and Todd together, not in that way. She’s nice – but suddenly I feel a certain dislike for her that I can’t explain.
Not jealous, not jealous, I tell myself. Not jealous.
‘I think they did, actually.’ He sounds so happy I feel guilty for not being able to be excited for him.
‘Have you . . . kissed her, yet?’
He blushes. I’ve never known a guy who blushes so easily. ‘Yeah, I kissed her goodnight after our first date, so . . .’
‘Cool.’ Cool? Oh, crap, I’m such a dork. ‘I mean, good for you, Todd.’
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he asks, after a too-long, undeniably awkward pause.
‘What? No!’ I say, a bit too loudly and forcefully, and force a laugh. ‘Don’t be silly. I’m – happy for you, really.’
A few minutes later, after complete and total silence, we get out of the car at my house. ‘So we’ll be over about two tomorrow, right?’
I nod, locking my car and walking up the driveway to my front door. ‘If things are taking a turn toward disaster, I’ll let you know.’
‘Okay. See you tomorrow then.’
‘Yep. Night, Todd.’ I have to raise my voice a little for him to hear me, since by now we’re both on our porches unlocking the doors.
I’m not jealous, because if I were then that would mean I’d have to like Todd as more than a friend, and . . .
I think back to when he almost kissed me at the Freemans’ house, and how much I’d wished he had kissed me then.
It’s only when I’m inside and taking off my jacket, my arms a little numb and stiff from the cold, that I realize I’m still wearing Todd’s scarf. I ball the soft fabric in my hands and hug it close, the smell of his Old Spice deodorant and his shampoo lingering in my nostrils even as I climb into bed.
Stupid Jennifer Carter.
Stupid me.
Chapter Twenty-four
I don’t have a crush on Todd. Definitely not. It’s just not possible.
So maybe I wanted to kiss him when we were babysitting the Freeman twins and he almost kissed me. And maybe it made me feel weirdly, deliriously happy that he gave me his scarf yesterday and forgot to ask for it back. And maybe I am a little jealous of Jennifer Carter.
But none of that means I like him.
Ugh, I let Amanda get in my head about this too much. That’s the only reasonable explanation, right?
I roll over again in bed, looking at the time. It’s 07:13, four minutes since I last checked, and I’ve been awake for almost thirty minutes now. I had the weirdest dream, where I was playing baseball in the park with Todd, and he did that cheesy thing and stood behind me, arms around me, to show me how I should swing the bat – which is ridiculous in itself, because even if I can’t pitch or throw a ball to save my life, I’m awesome at batting. And then there was one of those kiss-cams, and . . . I woke up just before dream-Todd kissed me.
Since I woke up, heart pounding, I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
I’m driving myself crazy.
I just got out of a serious, long-term relationship. I don’t need to think about jumping into another one just yet. And with Todd, especially . . . it could ruin everything. I value him too much as a friend.
And obviously, I’m just a friend to him. I mean, what’s stopping him from asking me on a date now that I broke up with Josh? Nothing. But he chose to ask out Jennifer instead.
And so what if he gave me his scarf, and puts his arm around me sometimes when we’re walking into school? He’s just being nice, nothing more than that. So what if he wanted to kiss me? That was only the one time, and it doesn’t mean he really likes me in that way. It could’ve just been a spur-of-the-moment thing.
I can’t risk losing him as a friend. Even if I possibly maybe have a teensy crush on him, it’s just a silly crush. I don’t need to make a big deal out of it. And I should be supportive of his relationship with Jennifer.
I take a deep breath, and roll onto my back again, staring at the ceiling. It’s raining outside, and the sound is soothing as I lie there and tell myself to stop stressing out, it’s no big deal, I’m thinking too much into things.
Anyway, I’m better off not having a boyfriend for a while. After things went so wrong with Josh, maybe I should avoid relationships at the moment. I’m happy with my new group of friends, and with Allie back in my life. I don’t need a boyfriend to make me happy.
I stay in bed a little while longer, scrolling through my Twitter feed (which a
t this time of the morning is dead) until I hear Mom getting up ready to start cooking dinner, and I get up too, take a shower and then go and help out.
My grandmother is asleep still – I can hear her snoring in the spare bedroom as I walk past. Jeez. Either the jet lag really got to her, or it’s an old people thing. I don’t remember the last time I slept more than ten hours – never mind the almost fourteen hours she’s been asleep.
Downstairs, I find Mom with her hair knotted loosely at the base of her neck and an apron tied on already. She’s running through a checklist of food, checking things off and putting stars by other things.
‘Oh, good, you’re up,’ she says. ‘Wait – why are you up so early?’
‘Couldn’t sleep.’
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I say, honestly. ‘I guess I’m just so excited about chopping vegetables for dinner that I couldn’t sleep.’
‘In that case . . .’ Mom turns to the refrigerator and tosses me a bag full of carrots. ‘You can get started on those.’
‘Great.’
‘Is Grandma awake yet?’
‘Nah. Do you think we should wake her up soon?’
‘If your dad’s not up in an hour, I’ll go kick him out of the bed. He needs to clean the bathrooms, and vacuum the hallway and lounge. I’ll wake her up then.’
‘All right.’
Mom’s phone rings, and she takes a look at the screen before sighing. ‘It’s Grandpa. Again. You know this is the third time he’s called this morning?’ She answers, and as she repeats probably for the third time this morning that yes, it’s okay, he is on the right interstate . . . but no, don’t take the first exit, it’s the second exit . . .
I don’t hear the rest because she takes the call out in the hallway, but I bite back a laugh. Part of me wonders if Grandpa only does it for a joke. I wouldn’t put it past him.
Every time he visits, Mom tells me he’s where I get my sense of humor from; and she doesn’t say it like it’s flattering.
Gran and Grandpa arrive about an hour later, only five minutes before my aunt, uncle, and cousins. They weren’t supposed to show for another few hours, so the stress is visible on Mom’s face when we have guests and Dad is still cleaning the upstairs bathrooms.
She’s trying to catch up with Aunt Janice and her parents-in-law, and make coffees and put out some snacks, and remember to baste the turkey. Her eye twitches a little, and her hair’s falling out of its knot.
‘Mom, calm down.’
‘I should’ve pre-prepared more food yesterday,’ she mutters, ripping open a bag of chips and pouring them into a bowl for people to snack on, and then doing the same with some walnuts. ‘Can you take these out?’
‘Uh-huh.’ I take the bowls into the lounge, and on the way back, I linger in the hallway to make a phone call.
‘Happy Thanksgiving,’ Todd answers as soon as he picks up.
‘Yeah, you too. I need you to come over now. Like, put on some pants over those ridiculous SpongeBob boxer shorts and put on some shoes and come over.’
‘Huh. Am I going to be cutting vegetables?’
‘Yep.’
‘And what’s in it for me?’
‘Um, I’ll really appreciate the help and I’ll owe you one?’
‘Good enough for me.’ He hangs up, and rings the doorbell eight minutes later.
Mom’s head shoots up from mashing potatoes. ‘Oh, God, who’s that? I thought your uncle Patrick was on holiday, he’s not—’
‘It’s Todd, don’t worry.’
‘Oh. He’s early.’
‘Well, I thought we could do with a little help.’
Mom looks ready to scold me, but I bounce out of the kitchen to let Todd in before she gets the chance to. I introduce Todd to my family in the lounge, first, before whisking him away to the kitchen.
After the chips and nuts have been demolished, Uncle George brings the empty dishes out, and sticks around to help with the cooking. The four of us makes the kitchen pretty crowded – especially when Dad comes in every so often to get more drinks for everyone – but it’s nice. Homely.
We don’t see my cousins much, except over summer vacation. Having them around the house like this, even if it’s only once a year, is great.
Todd and I are doing some dishes, alone for a short time while my parents sit in the lounge talking to the rest of the family. He nudges me gently to get my attention.
‘Yeah?’
‘Thanks, for having us over. I appreciate it.’
‘No problem. You and your dad are practically family now anyway, right?’
He smirks, but looks away. ‘Right. Your family are so great though. I haven’t heard one argument all day – except for your cousins fighting over which was the best float in the parade, but I don’t think that really counts. It’s so different to what I’m used to. Even before the divorce, Thanksgiving dinner was hell. My parents would try to get on for my sake and they’d only end up arguing about the amount of butter in the mash potato or how the carrots had been cooked.’
I’m not totally sure what to say to that. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re having a good Thanksgiving for a change.’
He dries the last plate and I put it away, and then we go into the lounge with the rest of my family.
‘So, you’re the famous Todd we’ve heard so much about,’ Grandpa says.
‘Uh, I guess so, sir.’
Grandpa chuckles. ‘“Sir!” It’s been a long time since somebody who wasn’t serving me food called me sir.’
‘Technically, I have helped cook some of the dinner,’ said Todd with a grin.
‘Ah, damn. And here I thought you kids respected your elders like we used to.’ Grandpa laughs loudly, which turns into wheezing, and he has to take a drink of water. ‘Ashley’s told us a lot about you, you know.’
‘All good things, I hope.’
‘We haven’t heard a bad word about you yet,’ Gran says, smiling at him. Todd’s sitting on the arm of the couch my cousins are occupying, and I’m on the floor at his feet. Laughing, Todd ruffles my hair – but not too much; he knows that today I put in a lot of effort (and a lot more product) in making my hair look curly and cute, not frizzy and wild.
I pat my hair back into place and when one of my cousins – Gemma, the nine-year-old – starts telling Grandpa, very loudly with a lot of outrage, about a girl in her class that cheated on her test, Todd leans down to talk in my ear.
‘So you talk about me a lot, huh?’
‘Maybe,’ I mumble, deliberately not looking at him.
‘What kind of things do you say about me?’
‘Hmm, mostly about what a jerk you are . . .’
He shoves my shoulder, laughing again, and I lean back against his knees.
Having managed to not think about my dream all day, I’m beyond irritated when it flashes through my mind again. I tense up, and will myself not to blush. God, I’m such a dork sometimes. I don’t even have anything to be embarrassed about!
Todd notices my sudden reaction, and leans down again. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Uh-huh. I’m fine.’
I check my cellphone; a text from Allie, pleading with me to save her from another game of Scrabble, and a couple of ‘Happy Thanksgiving!’ texts from my new friends. I haven’t had much chance to check my phone today, what with helping my mom to juggle the cooking and washing up dirty dishes as soon as they appeared, so I reply to all the texts now.
I consider texting Josh, only to say a brief Happy Thanksgiving, but think the better of it. He seemed hurt enough by the break-up as it was; a text, however innocent, will only rub salt in the wound.
The turkey is ready by five, and we all sit down to eat. I didn’t realize just how starving I was until it was all laid out in front of us – a dozen or so dishes of vegetables and bread and gravy boats and potatoes, and the turkey in the center.
Before Dad carves it, we do the silly family tradition of going around t
he table and saying one thing for which we’re thankful. Mostly, it’s ‘good health’ or in the case of Aunt Janice, the new baby she’s expecting. My cousins come up with slightly more trivial things – like ‘my new Nintendo 3DS’, making us all laugh.
Then it’s my turn. ‘I’m grateful for . . . for good friends.’ I can’t help but glance at Todd out of the corner of my eye, and I see a pink flush sweep over his cheeks.
It’s his turn next, and he clears his throat. ‘And I’m grateful for good neighbors that take us in at Thanksgiving.’
I laugh. Callum sighs, ‘You make it sound like we’re homeless or something.’
Grandpa finishes with the last ‘I’m grateful for . . .’ and then Dad stands to carve the turkey, and we finally get to eat.
My cousins are staying in a hotel overnight, and Aunt Janice and Uncle George bundle them into the car around eight o’clock, ignoring their pleas to stay longer with the reasoning that they’ll need to have a bath and get to bed at a decent hour.
Gran and Grandpa leave shortly after, and Grandma makes herself another cup of peppermint tea and goes to bed.
My parents and Callum open another bottle of wine, pouring themselves very full glasses, and then pour smaller glasses for Todd and me. We sit in the lounge for a while with them, but after about ten minutes it starts to get pretty dull, so we take our few mouthfuls of wine and go over to Todd’s house, away from the tipsy, rowdy laughter of our parents.
I pick up my coat from the coat hook in the hallway, and see Todd’s scarf underneath it. ‘Oh, hey, your scarf,’ I say, holding it out to him. ‘I forgot to give it back.’
He takes it from me and smiles, and we head over to his house, hurrying a little because it’s cold out. When we get in, the house isn’t much warmer.
‘Damn,’ he mutters. ‘He turned the heating off.’
I rub my arms, my sweater dress not keeping me warm enough now.
‘I’ll grab a blanket.’ Todd sets his wine on a coaster on the coffee table. ‘How about you find something to watch on TV?’