After a few beats of silence, I threw off my seatbelt, and Lily sighed as she released hers. “Well, that’s just sad.”
My jaw ticked. Balling the empty wrapper from her sandwich, I asked, “What is?”
“That you don’t think you can be who you really are,” she replied softly, her words and tone compelling me to look across the cab. Again, I waited for judgment that never came. Instead, her eyes filled with understanding and compassion. Somehow it was almost worse.
More cars were pulling into the lot, and I glanced out my window in time to see Aidan walk by. He tapped his fist against the glass, and I waved a hand to say I was coming.
Turning back to Lily, wanting her to be on the hot seat again, I asked, “What about you? What does our future valedictorian plan to do with her life? Run for president? Take over Apple? Solve world hunger?”
She smiled, amusement on her face as she grabbed her book bag and popped open the passenger-side door. “Nice try, bud, but that is a rule violation.” She waggled her eyebrows and hopped out of the truck, a lilting laugh floating through the slight crack in the window as she strolled away. Even though she’d bested me at my own game, I found myself laughing, too.
Damn. That girl loved a good exit.
Chapter Twelve
Lily
“I’m so not meant to be a doctor,” I whined, writing the term abdominopelvic cavity onto a notecard as lunch trays slammed and chairs scraped around me. As vocabulary terms went, it was a relatively easy one, but my brain was too clouded with words like parietal pleura, chondroblasts, and figuring out the difference between afferent and efferent neurons, to make heads or tails of it. Why couldn’t every subject be English or history?
Sydney thrust her hand across the table and set it over my open textbook. “You realize if you didn’t work so far ahead, and took things slower like they were actually intended, it might make more sense, right?”
I stuck out my tongue. “The day I don’t work ahead is the day you should worry about me,” I said, grabbing a blank notecard from the stack between us. “Besides, you’re one to talk. I bet you the new Sarah Dessen you’ve already memorized the textbook.”
“Ah, but see, I like science,” she replied, knowing she had me there. I grumbled and went back to writing, and she watched me while a group seated at the table behind us got into a heated debate over the Mandela Effect. She sighed. “Fine, even though it’s a total waste of a night free of babysitting, I’ll help you study tomorrow if you want.”
My face lit up in a giddy grin, and I batted my eyelashes gratefully. My best friend rolled her eyes. “Good Lord, you can stop the theatrics, I already said I’d come over.” Sydney stole a carrot stick from my plate. “Of course, I’d rather study Sunday night, since I’m off then, too, but it’s an away game tomorrow and you refuse to go with me, so I’ve got nothing else to do.”
Beyond her head, the entire back wall of the cafeteria was plastered in posters about Homecoming. Banners for various court nominees and reminders to purchase tickets were scattered everywhere. We still had two weeks until the dance, and unlike me, Sydney wanted to go. While she’d worked the event a few times in the past, she’d never gone with a date.
I picked up a cucumber slice and dunked it in ranch. If I was gonna eat more rabbit food like the doctors wanted, it was at least gonna taste good. “You know, as much as I want you to study with me, you could always ask Nick to the game.”
Sydney’s panicked gaze flew to the neighboring tables to see if he was around.
“He’s your vice president,” I continued, ignoring the sharp kick under the table, “which means he’s off concession stand duty, too. I bet if you asked him, he’d love to go.”
Her hazel eyes narrowed, but before she could issue the excuse already forming on her lips, Angéla Torres plopped down in the empty chair beside her. A bright orange tray filled with French fries, a slice of pizza, and a chocolate-glazed brownie landed next, and I blinked in a mix of awe and food envy.
While I repressed the desire to dive headfirst into her tray, Angéla plucked up her carton of chocolate milk and took a good long pull, eyes closed in bliss. Sydney watched in confused fascination. “Uh, hi there.”
Angéla smacked her lips with a satisfying ahh. “Sorry, I was positively parched. Speech class always gets me going.” She wiggled happily in her seat and twisted her glossy black hair in a thick rope before sliding it over her shoulder. “I’m Angéla, by the way. You’re Sydney Green, best friend of my future bestie, which makes us future besties, too. What are we talking about?”
Sydney glanced at me, as if seeking confirmation this was really happening, and answered somewhat distractedly, “We’re making plans for the weekend.”
“Oh, good!” Angéla sat up tall and reached over to grab my hand. “That’s one of the things I wanted to ask you. You’ll come to the game with me tomorrow, won’t you? Both of you? I hate going to those things alone, and I’ll drive the whole way, so don’t worry about that. My brother told me about your car.”
She grinned widely and flipped her hand over her brow. “Sa-woon, by the way. Very One Tree Hill-ish.” When she caught my and Sydney’s dual looks of bewilderment, she said, “Nathan? Haley? Lucas?” She sighed. “It’s on Hulu. Watch it. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
“I’ll be sure to check it out,” I replied, trying hard not to laugh. If Angéla planned on hanging around, I’d seriously need to up my television and movie game.
A warm feeling floated through my chest, and I grinned at my stack of notecards. Then I remembered her proposal for tomorrow.
“Yeah, about the game…”
Angéla’s pretty face lit with a beam like she was incandescent, and I winced, hating to be the reason she faded. Sydney, the evil girl she was, grabbed hold of my weakness and ran. “Yeah, we were just talking about that, weren’t we, Lil? I was telling her I could drop by her house Sunday to help with her index-card-a-thon, so she could go to the game with me tomorrow night, and now you’re offering us a ride. It’s like fate or something.”
I shook my head with a grin. Point: Sydney. Clearly, she was on board with Angéla’s new bestie plan—not a surprise, since Sydney always made friends quickly. It was one of the things I both loved and hated about her. Glancing at her attempt at sappy puppy dog eyes that held the tiniest hint of wicked glee, and knowing I was outvoted, I decided arguing was futile.
“Fine, I’ll go,” I conceded, laughing when Angéla did a fist pump. “But I seriously need to get this anatomy straight at some point.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll help on Sunday,” Sydney promised, dancing a little in her chair. “This is gonna be so much fun! It’s been forever since we had a real girl’s night.”
Angéla twirled a French fry in ketchup. “Me, too. In fact, why don’t we go the full nine and have a sleepover? Ooh, that’ll be perfect. ‘Chasing Trouble’s’ having one of his infamous parties after the game,” she said with an exaggerated eye roll, “so we’ll have the house to ourselves. We can do the whole retro, teen movie, pillow fight/spa routine. It’ll be great!”
I tapped my pen, studying her. She looked genuinely excited, but I could’ve sworn I’d picked up a crushing vibe at the parade. Sneaking a covert glance across the room to where Chase and Stone held court, I glanced back at my newly declared bestie. “You’re sure you don’t want to go to the party?”
Angéla wrinkled her nose in disgust. “God, no. I’m over that scene.” She pushed away her half-eaten tray, and that, more than anything else, shocked the heck out of me. “It’s the same silliness every time. People drink too much, they hook up, someone gets thrown into a pool, and it’s all documented on Snapchat or Insta. It’s like the entire student body is stuck in reruns and no one even notices.”
Sydney seemed to consider that, as unfamiliar with the party scene as I was, then swung her gaze to mine. “So…sleepover?”
You’d have to have known her as well as I did to catch the sl
ight flare of desperation in her eyes. As anti-stereotype as I was when it came to the high school experience, Sydney lived for it. It was even more of an issue for her because she had so little free time between schoolwork, Student Council, and watching her siblings.
I pressed my lips together and looked at my growing stack of notecards. I really should study at some point tomorrow, even if it wasn’t Anatomy and Physiology. But I also couldn’t deny it felt nice to make plans and feel included.
A fleeting thought entered my mind that Dad would go bananas if he learned I’d slept at a house with a teenage guy down the hall, but then, he hadn’t been in town to ask. Problem solved.
Plus, it wasn’t like Stone was interested in me like that anyway.
Raising my head, I took in their matching, hopeful expressions and laughed out loud. At first glance, Sydney and Angéla were total opposites. One was blond, a fierce Type-A, and made my own aspirations for the future look like child’s play. The other had dark hair the color of licorice, was bubbly and fun, and evidently saw the world through a Hollywood lens. But they both had huge hearts, an even bigger zest for life, and for some strange reason, wanted to be friends with me. How could I deny them?
“I’ll bring the face masks and cucumber slices,” I muttered, and they squealed in sync before turning to give each other a high five. Ah, crap. These two were gonna be the death of me.
Chapter Thirteen
Lily
Stone laughed as he barreled down Main Street, fingers tapping the steering wheel to the local variety station’s drive-time hits. It was the only channel we halfway agreed on. We were headed home after a long-ass day of academic learning mixed with a healthy dose of teenage angst, and I’d just divulged Angéla’s lunchtime declaration of bestie-hood.
“Yeah, she can be a force of nature when she wants to be,” he said, affection clear in his tone. “But my sister has a huge heart, and she wears it on her sleeve.” He glanced over, and the loving grin turned down slightly at the edges. “People can sometimes take advantage.”
It didn’t seem like he thought I’d take advantage but was doing his brotherly duty in warning me, and an unexpected rush of protectiveness flooded my chest. I hated that the funny, affectionate girl who’d welcomed me with open arms wasn’t always treated the same way, and it made me appreciate her spunky brand of friendship even more.
“She invited us to sleep over after the game,” I told him, curious as to how he’d react.
Would he find it weird, me being in his house, around his personal things? Or would he be glad to hang out again in a non-dance, non-damsel-like situation?
What would happen if we, say, accidently bumped into each other in the middle of the night, like on the way to the bathroom? Would he linger and talk and reveal more of his secrets…or would he slide past me and go on to do his business?
And what did Stone look like, first thing in the morning? Was he the type of guy who woke up perfect, or did he suffer from bedhead like the rest of us mere mortals?
Gah! When did I become such a head case?
“Oh yeah?” he said, snapping me out of my crazy thoughts. We rolled to a stop at the traffic light, and he pursed his lips. “You know, I should drag you to Chase’s party. You still haven’t been to one, and his are particularly legendary.”
“I’d use my veto if you tried…”
“But, I’m kind of over the scene myself,” he said with a smirk. “Besides, I’m glad you’ll be hanging out with Angéla. Just do me a favor and try to rein her in if she goes too wild…and whatever you do, don’t let her watch the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice unless you want a shot by shot breakdown of why it’s brilliant and how it compares to the book.”
I laughed and shifted on the seat to face him. “I take it that’s her favorite movie?”
“It at least makes the top five,” he replied, his face a mask of feigned exasperation, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed how much he adored her. “She discovered it the summer after we were freshmen, back when it was on our suggested reading list. It’s been Darcy fever ever since.”
I smiled as the song on the radio ended with a boom and a perky voice rolled through the truck’s speakers. “That was ‘Thunder’ by Imagine Dragons, here on KSBY 96.5, but you want to know where there won’t be thunder this weekend, Chris?”
“Where’s that, Kasey?” a second voice, just as peppy only slightly deeper, chimed in.
“Over in Fairwood City, where our beloved Tigers are taking on the Hokies! I’m not a meteorologist, Chris, but I predict a major butt-whooping tomorrow, led by none other than local legend Stone Torres. It’s gonna be a great night of football.”
“That might be true,” the second DJ chimed in, “but the real game on everyone’s mind is the matchup against Morton in a few weeks. Sure, Torres can easily handle the Hokies, and after next week’s bye, the Wildcats should be easy picking. But can number five hold up against the Mustangs’ top-ranked defense? When it counts, and the game is on the line against a true contender, can he keep his composure in the clutch? That’s what everyone wants to know.”
“Very true, Chris, and only time will tell. Now, don’t go anywhere, friends, because we’ll be back kicking off another commercial-free hour of hits from the eighties, nineties, and today after this word from our sponsor.”
A somber mood fell over the cab as a jingle for a car dealership blathered on, and Stone’s jaw turned to granite. As surreal as the last few seconds had been, what made it even crazier was that it was only a tiny glimpse of what he dealt with every day. A second wave of protectiveness washed over me, this one even stronger than the last.
While I struggled with what to say, Stone sighed, then turned his attention to the shopping center outside my window. His eyebrows lifted as he scanned the lot, and the affectionate smile he’d worn when he’d talked about Angéla returned.
“Hey, you mind if we make a stop before I bring you home?”
“Not at all,” I told him, curious as to what he could be thinking. “You’re saving me from smelling like tuna on the bus. We can make as many stops as you want.”
Stone flicked his turn signal, and when the red light switched to green, he pulled into the lot. It was surprisingly filled for a Thursday afternoon, and people were streaming in and out of the various stores. Bath & Body Works, an H-E-B grocery store, Hobby Lobby, and One More Chapter, a local bookstore.
I surveyed each, wondering which could’ve caught his fancy, while he navigated around shoppers and discarded carts. He selected a space closest to the bookstore, and I grinned, unable to resist teasing. “Ahh, all that talk of Mr. Darcy got you hot for your own copy, huh?”
Stone unbuckled his seat belt, the slightest twitch of his lips the only indication he’d heard me. He gazed up at the building and said, “Sunday marks five years Angel’s been cancer free.”
My playful smile fell from my face.
“Normally, I take her to dinner and give her a gift card,” he went on while I slowly released my seatbelt. “But, I don’t know, I guess after hearing you go on this morning about the books you read, and then talking about Pride and Prejudice, I thought maybe I should do something different this year.”
I bit my lip, tucking my legs up beneath me. “Angéla’s a fellow booklover?”
Stone laughed, making me remember her strong reaction to my book boyfriend shirt at the festival. I wasn’t surprised when he said, “Yeah, you could say that.” He glanced at me. “Of course, her first love will always be movies, but in the hospital, we didn’t always have access to a DVD player. Or a huge selection of cable channels. Books were easy to carry around, though. In the beginning…man, she must’ve gone through four or five a week. Minimum.” He shook his head and then cleared his throat, his smile dulling at the edges. “Later on, when she got too tired to read, I made it my job to do it for her.”
Stone’s broad shoulders seemed to shrink in size. His thick, dark eyebrows drew together as if he were in pai
n, and my heart throbbed at the rare show of emotion. I pressed a hand against my chest as my own memories rushed back.
“It was the only thing I could do for her, you know?” His hands clenched the steering wheel. “I wasn’t a doctor. I wasn’t a nurse. I didn’t even have my license yet, so I couldn’t drive her to appointments or make an ice cream run to make her smile. The only thing I could do was read to her when she couldn’t.” He leaned back with a huff of exasperation and splayed his hands wide. “For a while there, it became our thing. Twin-time, she used to call it.”
Stone shook his head, then laughed softly, glancing at me with a small, almost shy smile. It transformed his usually rugged face, making him look more innocent, more vulnerable. It hadn’t escaped my attention that he was opening up and being real, like I’d asked him to do at the festival, and wanting to comfort him—but also not wanting to scare him off—I scooted closer on the bench, lifting and then dropping my hand before setting it on his thigh.
“It sounds like you did everything you could,” I told him honestly, my words strained because my throat was tight. “More than enough.”
Stone inhaled a deep breath. The thin press of his lips said he didn’t believe me. Regardless, he said, “Maybe. But after Angéla got better, life kicked back into high gear. We both got busy. Between school and football and her dancing at the studio…” He trailed off, and his mouth twisted ruefully. “I don’t know, maybe the book idea is stupid. She’s got an e-reader thing now anyway.”
“No.” I shook my head earnestly and leaned down, needing to catch his eyes. “I don’t think it’s stupid at all. I think it’s very thoughtful, and your sister’s gonna love it.”
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