“Ben, I’m wondering now if I should bother showering and putting on something other than sweats. If you can’t love me for the woman I am, this is never going to work between us.”
He was laughing as soon as I threatened to show up smelling less than daisy fresh.
“We’ll take you any way we can get you. Amy’s scowling. Or at least I think that’s what she’s doing. She still kind of looks sweet, so it’s hard to tell. See ya.”
More shuffling and then a deep sigh.
“Are you coming?” Amy’s patience level was definitely maxing out. Flirting, even in a joking manner, was beyond her comprehension. “Ben and Luke invited themselves along, so you better be coming.”
“I already said yes. You had me at your ringtone. I’ll meet you guys there.”
Luckily, I didn’t really need to shower and I was already dressed for success. So the only thing I need to do was pass Mom Inspection and head out the door.
By the time I got to Jovi’s there was pizza on the table. It was mostly gone, but with two guys post-soccer game I was lucky mostly was the defining word.
Lily, a girl from our school who worked there, was clearing our table when a group paused outside the window next to our booth. I don’t know if he had super-intense staring powers or what, but all of us turned to see Chris Kent glaring through the glass like he was going to melt a hole in it with his amazing laser vision.
With a few words to the guys he was with, Chris split off and stormed into the pizzeria.
We all kind of watched it, our heads twisting around to following him down the sidewalk, through the door, and back across the restaurant.
He stalled out right at the edge of our booth, glaring down at the table in general.
“Hey.” Note that hey sounded a lot more like, What the hell? Only, I had no idea what the hell he was what the hell’ing.
Ben’s arm stretched out behind me and dropped across the back of the booth, brushing my shoulder.
More glaring. This was weirder than the pillow fight moment. I seriously had to check my calendar to figure out when I entered Alternate Universe World.
“Chris, what’s up?” Luke asked. Usually the standard greeting, but even Luke sounded curious about the hovering-glaring thing going on.
Chris’s gaze snapped to Luke and then spun around to fall on me.
“Rachel, can I talk to you for a second?” His attention slipped to Ben like he might say no or demand to see a Permission-To-Talk-To-Rachel slip or something.
“Sure.” It took me a second to realize he meant privately. As opposed to airing whatever was bugging him in front of his friends. My friends. Our friends…whatever.
I followed him to the far corner and leaned against the pinball machine that was actually working for once.
“What’s up?” I got a little nervous when I noticed the ears were slightly more than pink, but not yet red.
“This is why you couldn’t meet with me until later?” He sounded really mad. Like, the sign in the window said 50% off sale but it was only on things no one would buy mad.
To be honest, I was feeling a little annoyed myself.
“No. This is not why. This is none of your business. It may surprise you, but I do have a life outside of catering to your academic needs.”
“Are you dating Ben?”
Okay, segue much?
“Am I dating Ben? What does that have to do with anything?”
“It just seems like every time I turn around you’re tied to another person I wouldn’t want to know you’re tutoring me.”
Seriously? Mrs. Lester would so be proud of me thinking total hyperbole right now.
“You must not turn around much, because Ben is my first new friend in years. Friend. Got it? Friend?”
“Whatever.” He ran his hands through his curls and glanced at the table. In the mirror over the games, I saw the whole group whip around like they hadn’t been watching us. We’d probably get better ratings than any reality show MTV was putting out. “So, are you blowing me off or something?”
I would not feel guilty. I would not cave and explain myself to him. He was not the boss of me.
“No. I still have something tonight. This is not me blowing you off. You can show up after nine-thirty or not. Just like I said.” I pushed off the pinball machine. “It’s totally up to you.”
Halfway across the restaurant I realized he was following close behind. As I slid into the booth, he kind of hovered at the edge of the table again. When he spoke, it was directed at Ben. He obviously was not buying the “we’re just friends” speech. Not that it mattered.
Whatever.
“Sorry. Rachel and I are working on a school project and I just needed to check some stuff.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his track pants. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“Chris.” I glanced at the table and no one was wildly shaking their head before he could turn back around. “Why don’t you join us? We’re getting root beer floats.”
How could the whole darn school not have any idea how lost this boy was? He looked at me like I’d just asked if we could meet on the moon instead of asking him if he wanted to hang out.
“Yeah.” Ben to the rescue. “The girls seem to think my life is incomplete because I’ve never had one. Stay for the big moment.”
Chris glanced past us, out the window. Probably to make sure his actual cool friends weren’t anywhere near to see this, and then pulled a chair to the end of the table.
I scooted out, brushing past him as I went. How weird was this? Chris was actually hanging out with us. It was probably a guilt-hang. As in, I’m forcing her to tutor me so I should probably pretend I like her.
At the counter, I shouted out back for Jovi to add another float to the order and headed back to the table. Trying not to graze Chris as I slid back into the booth, I watched as everyone tried to put him at ease. I guess, even though the guys were his teammates, he was on my turf now.
Just as I was beginning to really worry about things never getting comfortable, the floats arrived.
“Go ahead, Ben.” Amy pushed one toward him. “Give it a try.”
As per Ben, he made a big production out of examining the glass. Sipping the edge. Considering spoon versus straw. All of us were already happily slurping away by the time he dropped his spoon right into the float. It did what any float would do—it fizzed over half-exploding onto the table and slopping onto Ben’s lap.
That wasn’t even the best part. The best part, the part that almost had me doubled over, was Chris snorting root beer out his nose.
Amy and I looked at each other and laughed like God put these boys on the planet just for our amusement.
“Stop laughing. That stuff stings.” Chris wiped at his nose.
Ben wiped at his pants.
Luke looked insufferably proud not to be wearing root beer.
“Don’t worry.” I patted Ben’s shoulder. “That was totally an amateur move. Happens to the best of us.”
As the laughing died, there was that moment of Oh no. What do we say now?
This time Chris filled the silence. Maybe I needed to teach him when not to talk.
“Has Rachel told you about her new boyfriend?” Everyone’s gaze shifted toward Chris quicker than…well, something really quick. Amy’s a little more pointed. “They’re really close. She sees him every day.”
For a weird—surprising—one-one millionth of a second, my heart kind of skitter stepped.
What’s that all about?
Chris leaned forward, and it seemed like everyone eased in to hear him.
“Mr. Reed is totally in love with her. He even smiles when she comes in.” He tossed a wink my way…as if I wasn’t going to kill him later.
Amy cocked an eyebrow at me. “Since when do you flirt with teachers?”
“Actually,” I patted Chris on the shoulder in as condescending a move as I could make. “Chris here is being modest. I think Mr. Reed is just smiling at me to
get to him.”
“I’m not the one he invited for quality time after school.”
“Please! He just didn’t want to spend time stroking your enormous ego over your A on that pop quiz.”
“Yeah, he was really focused on me, Ms. Wells. I couldn’t hold his attention for half a second, Ms. Wells. Are you planning on coming to class again tomorrow, Ms. Wells?”
Oh, that was too much. “Shut up!” I smacked his arm, almost knocking more root beer float everywhere. “Although, if you get a pair of those half-glasses you might be a younger version of him, Mr. Kent.”
“Have you guys been taking something we don’t know about?” Ben looked from one of us to the other. “Like some type of happy-history drink or something?”
I snatched my hand back from Chris’s arm and tried desperately to escape Alternate Universe World again.
“Oh, you know. History partner bonding.” I forced a grin, hoping everyone was buying that the two of us were working on our imaginary project. I really couldn’t deal with everything that went with the undercover tutoring.
“So, you guys are high on history?” Ben looked from one of us to the other. Definitely suspicious. “Is that legal? Is it even possible?”
I’d like to say I had a super-amazing witty comeback. But the truth was that the alarm on my phone went off. Literally saved by the bell.
“Sorry guys.” I pushed out of the booth, grabbing my sweater as I went. “You’re on your own.”
I breezed away, making a glamorous—and unquestioned—exit.
Chapter 17
“So, Rachel, how’s your week been?”
Eventually, Dr. Meadows would come up with a new way to start our sessions. But why mess with what already works well enough at torturing me, right?
“Not too bad.”
She pulled her glasses off and set them beside her ever-present notebook.
“Every time you start off with ‘not too bad’ it’s never a good thing. Don’t take up poker.”
I closed my eyes and ran the week through my head. Not so good. Okay, maybe worse than not so good.
“Yeah. It wasn’t great.” I tried to grin at her. She never bought it, but I figured I should make the effort to be polite. “Actually, it kind of sucked.”
“Why don’t you tell me what some trigger events were and how you handled them?”
As if living through them again helped.
“I saw Jared with his new girlfriend.” I tried to hold her gaze, but found myself counting the little tiles along the edge of the wall. “He didn’t even notice me, and they were all happy-happy.”
She picked the notebook back up. That was one of the hard parts, knowing she was writing down every screwed up thing. I know they didn’t go anywhere and it was just so she could remember what we talked about the next week, but still…the mess known as my life recorded for all to read. Big shudder.
“Did I mention she’s blonde and gorgeous? And tiny. Kind of perfect-girlfriend material looks-wise.”
“Is it her or her looks that bother you most?”
Were her questions getting harder?
“I don’t know.” That was actually the truth. When she asked the question, I didn’t know. But as I sat there thinking, I ran both sides through my head.
“Really?” she pushed. “You don’t know?”
“I guess it’s kind of both. I mean, he replaced me in less than a week, and it seems like he upgraded. I couldn’t compete with that. She’s gorgeous.”
“That’s what you said. So, you think he’s only dating her because she’s pretty?”
“Gorgeous.” There’s definitely a difference.
“Because she’s gorgeous?”
“Why else would he be dating her?”
“So he dated you because you were gorgeous?”
That’s why I hated Wednesday nights. No matter how everything lined up in my head walking in the door, Dr. Meadows shuffled it all within minutes.
“No. He dated me because we were a great match. We hit it off immediately and things were really good.”
“So, what happened?”
My palms itched. I rubbed them along the cushioned arms of the chair.
“I don’t know. I told you. He just showed up one day after we’d dated a couple weeks and said he really liked me but thought we’d be better off as friends.”
“And you were surprised.”
“Of course I was surprised. I thought we were a great match.” I thought we were the perfect match. We had so much in common. Our sense of humor, things we liked, how we thought about stuff. Plus, with Amy dating Luke now, dating his brother just made sense.
“But then he moved on?”
“Yeah. To Gorgeous Girl.”
“Sounds familiar.” She absent-mindedly tapped her pencil against her notepad.
I may not be the therapist in the room, but by then even I knew how to read some of her tells. This was where I was supposed to cave and say “I know.” I really didn’t want to.
“It isn’t the same.” Yeah, that sounded a little whiny.
“Why not?”
Oh, as if I hadn’t seen that one coming.
“When I break up with someone, I’m not moving on to upgrade to the next model.”
“So, you’re an older model?”
“What else am I? He just decided we were friends when things were great and then, like, days later had a new girlfriend. Not a new kind of girl he was getting to know. A full on girlfriend.”
Off came her glasses again. Brace yourself.
“Rachel.” Dr. Meadows let out a sigh that could only be described as exasperated. “How many boys did you date last year?”
“During the school year?” Seeing as I wasn’t allowed to date during the summer at camp, I think we could call that question a stall tactic.
“Yes. During the school year.”
“I don’t know.” Fourteen. “A handful.”
“You know exactly how many. Say it out loud.”
That’s the problem with long-term therapy. I swear Dr. Meadows could read my mind at this point.
“Fourteen. Okay? Four. Teen.”
“So, Jared—who you’ve said is just like you—is displaying behavior similar to your own. Does that mean his behavior reflects more on you or on him?”
“But he moved on to her because of me.” Why couldn’t she understand that?
“I know this is going to come as quite a shock. But not everything is about you. He may have his own issues and dating around may be how he handles them.” She paused and I could tell she was judging if she should push. “Just like you.”
Being told what you’re already trying to ignore really cuts down on the self-delusion. Sometimes a girl needs a little delusion to make life run smoothly “But I’m not dating anyone now.”
“I believe the agreement when you left Camp Oscheen was that you wouldn’t date anyone for three months.” She glanced at the notebook. “We discussed that the last two weeks.”
“I know. I didn’t mean to date him. It was just so easy. We fell into it.”
“And it made you feel better,” she said, her voice soft. Not a trace of accusation or judgment.
I nodded. I knew that. I knew having a boy who was just for me, who liked me, made me feel better. If he liked me, if he didn’t see the me I saw, then everything must be fine. And, as she pointed out several times last year, if that boy started to get close, it was time to go. There was nothing worse than worrying about how clear their vision might get—not a risk I was willing to take.
“How did you handle seeing them?”
“Oh, you know. Threw up in the girl’s room and then refused to come out,” I said with a shrug. It wasn’t like that was the first time.
“How’d you get out?”
Translation: How bad of a panic attack was it?
“Amy came in and I didn’t want her to know. I couldn’t let her know. It gave me that focus. To get through it, to push it away.”
She nodded. We’d talked about focus a lot. It wasn’t typically a person who was right there, but it had worked. “And?”
She watched me struggle not to shift on the overstuffed seat I’d spent too much time in over the last few years. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like what was coming next.
“Have you considered that maybe you weren’t ready to come off the meds?”
What was up with the keeping-Rachel-drugged movement this week?
I tried to keep the suspicion out of my voice. “Why?”
“Why?” Dr. Meadows actually sounded surprised, which was a surprise. She was typically so good at keeping that non-emotional therapist thing going on. “I don’t know, Rachel? Maybe because the first week back from camp you broke one of the major rules, which created panic attacks you could have avoided, and you’re still putting the blame for them in the wrong place? You haven’t been handling things like you’re supposed to. And, do you really think I’m so dumb as to not notice you’re trying to slide through your sessions without really dealing with anything?”
Okay, wow. Um, where to start?
“I’m not faking it through therapy.” Not a lot anyway. But, I was really tired of having to come and talk about me, me, me while someone judged me with a notebook and a Bic pen. “And I know I messed up with the dating Jared thing. Obviously he was a poor choice.”
“Dating or dating Jared was a poor choice?”
Did the woman miss nothing? I know what I was supposed to say. I was supposed to say, Why, Dr. Meadows. Of course I meant dating when it was against the rules was a poor choice. But I knew the truth. I knew I would have done it again in a heartbeat.
“Rachel, if you’re not going to take the steps to handle things without the medication, I’m not sure you should be off them.”
I panicked. Not in the panic attack kind of way, but in the typical teenager about to lose something she really wants kind of way.
“Okay. I’ll stick to the plan.” I tried to smile, but I was too busy trying not to worry she and my mom would magically come to a decision about the meds together…without me. “No more dating.”
“Good.” She nodded, a reassuring movement I’d learned didn’t always mean good. “That’s a start. And how did that affect the rest of your week?”
Secret Life (RVHS Secrets) Page 14