by Anna Cruise
Except it wasn't Jada that was there.
Case held up a hand when I walked toward the entryway. “Hey.” I looked at him, then Sara, then back to him. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged. “Just came by to see what was going on.”
“No, you didn't,” I said.
He just shrugged again.
“Case, it was nice meeting you,” Sara said. “I'm going to do some work in the backyard if you guys need me.”
“Nice meeting you, too,” he said.
She smiled and turned and headed for the backyard.
“Seriously,” I said to Case. “What are you doing here?”
He stepped further into the entryway. He wore jeans and a gray t-shirt that made his eyes look silver in the sunlight filtering through the windows.
“Jada told me you texted her,” he said. “Sounded like you were kinda screwed. Just thought I'd come by.”
“Why?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I need a reason? If you want me to leave...”
“No, no, no,” I said. “I'm just...never mind. Come on.”
I led him into the living room and we sat down on the brown corduroy couch. I tucked one leg beneath me and waited.
“So what happened?” he asked. “Or should we just talk about the weather or something dumb like that?”
I smiled for the first time in twenty-four hours. He always put me at ease without putting any pressure on me.
“What I did was dumber than talking about the weather.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, I figured. You wanna tell me?”
I realized that I did. Want to tell him. I needed to tell someone, needed to spill my guts about everything that had happened. And he was the only one I had to tell it to.
“I snuck out,” I said and then explained the entire night to him.
Case listened. He settled back into the couch and he didn't interrupt. He didn't roll his eyes. He just listened.
When I was done, he frowned, but it wasn't a disapproving frown. It was a frown of sympathy. I'm not sure how I knew that, but I knew it. He wasn't judging me. He was empathizing.
He tilted his head back against the sofa, then looked at me. “Alright. I gotta ask you a question.”
“OK.”
“And you might not like it,” he warned.
I shook my head. “Well, after the third degree I've gotten from Sara, I think I can probably handle it.”
He nodded. “Fair enough.” He hesitated for a minute, his eyes on me. Assessing. “Do you really like Aidan?”
When I didn't respond right away, he asked , “I mean, really like him? To make all of this worth it?”
“It's not his fault,” I said.
“That's not answering the question,” he said. “But here's what I mean. The stuff your aunt's mad about? It all goes back to him. If you hadn't thought you had to go to the party to be with him, then you wouldn't have had to lie about going to Jada's and none of this would have happened. So my question is, do you really like this guy? Is he really worth getting yourself in trouble for?”
I bristled. “Now you sound like my aunt.”
He shook his head. “No. I'm not judging. I'm asking you, straight up. Is he so great that he's worth lying to your aunt and getting yourself in trouble? I mean, I don't know him so I can't answer the question. And honestly, it's your answer that matters. Is he totally worth it?”
The question made me uncomfortable. I wanted to blurt out yes, but I couldn't find the words. If Aidan was worth it, why couldn't I say it without having to think about it?
“What do you think?” I asked, deflecting the question again.
He just smiled. “Doesn't matter what I think.”
“I want to know.”
“I asked you first.”
I rolled my eyes. “That's a lame response.”
“So is not answering the question.”
We stared at each other for a moment, then we both laughed.
“Fine,” he said quickly. “I'll answer. Since you won't. Do I think he's worth it?” He shook his head. “No.”
Somehow, I knew that was what I would hear from him. “Why not?”
He eyed me. “You sure you wanna hear this?”
I nodded.
“Alright,” he said. He shifted on the couch, turning so that he was fully facing me. “I think the guy seems like a total jackass. And based on what you've told me, that's how he acts, too. He's OK with you lying to your aunt. He gets all pissed because you can't go out. He's flirting with another girl at the party. He bitches out your aunt. And you haven't heard a word from him since all this went down.” He shrugged. “And that's not even factoring in the crap I hear about him at school.”
He was hitting every nail squarely on the head. I wasn't sure if I was happy or sad that he was doing it. “What crap?”
He hesitated. “Look, rumors are stupid. I don't listen to them. But you hear enough of them, you figure there's some truth.” I waited expectantly and he sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Fine. Drugs, mainly. Not saying that makes him a jackass, but not really sure it sounds like you.”
I stared past him, at the artwork mounted on the wall and said nothing.
“All I'm saying is I think you deserve better,” Case said. “From my point of view, anyway. You deserve better.”
I threw my head back on the sofa and laughed. It was a harsh laugh with no mirth. “Most of the time, I don't think I deserve better.”
“Everyone deserves better.”
“Not me.” I didn't look at him. “No one else would want me. I've royally fucked up. Everything. There isn't anything better out there. Anything or anyone.”
“Yeah, there is.”
“Oh, really?” I brought my eyes back to him. “And where exactly would I find better?”
It was quiet for a moment. Then he said,“Well, you might start with me.”
My eyes widened. “With you?”
His cheeks flushed just a bit. “You don't have to sound so surprised.”
I immediately felt bad. “That's not what I meant. Sorry.”
He laughed. “It's fine. I'm kidding. About you being surprised. Not about being better.”
“Well how would I know you were better?” I said. “It's not like you've ever asked me out.”
He thought about this for a minute. “So if I asked you out, you'd go?”
I honestly had no idea where the conversation was headed. He was confusing me like crazy and I wasn't sure what to say to him. I thought maybe he was just screwing around with me.
“Yeah, I would,” I said, calling his bluff.
“What about Aidan?” he asked.
“What about him?” I said, shrugging. “You just pointed out all the reasons I shouldn't be with him. Maybe you're right and I've just been too dumb to see it.”
I didn't know if I believed what I was saying but it felt like the truth was on the wall, some message that everyone had deciphered but me. And I was going to try my hardest to translate it, however I could.
He stared at me for a long time. I didn't say anything, just stared into those eyes that were always friendly, always honest.
“OK, fine,” he said finally. “I'm asking you out. Will you go out with me?”
“Yes,” I said, with so little hesitation that it surprised even me. Maybe the writing wasn't so hard to decipher, after all.
“That was easy,” he said, then started laughing.
“You do know I'm basically in jail, right?”
“Is that why you said yes?”
I shook my head. “No. Not at all. I'm just saying.”
His mouth twisted in thought for a moment, then he stood. “Be right back.”
“Where are you going?” I asked.
But he was already headed toward the kitchen and the backyard.
I let my head fall back against the couch. What was Case doing? I still didn't know why he was really there. Had he come over with the i
ntention of asking me out? Or had he just come by to see how I was doing? I'd been such a crappy friend, I couldn't see how anyone would want to talk to me or spend time with me or even look at me. But he did. He'd taken the time to find out what was going on and had come over to see me. It was more than anyone else had done. More than my ex-best friend—whom I didn't blame for ignoring me—and more than my boyfriend.
He was there. In my house. Asking me out.
And I'd said yes.
I was totally confused.
He was back in ten minutes. He stopped in the doorway of the living room and shoved his hands in his pockets “OK. We're good.”
“We're what?”
“Your aunt said it was OK.”
My mouth fell open. “She did not.”
He gestured toward the kitchen. “You can go outside and ask her.”
“Why?” I asked, bewildered. “Why did she say yes?”
“Have to ask her.”
My head was spinning. I'd just gone from pretty much being grounded for life to going out with a guy that I'd never gone out with before. If I hadn't been sitting there, I would've thought I was still asleep.
“I'll be back around six,” Case said, smiling.
“Tonight?”
“Yep. Why wait?”
I didn't have a good answer. “I don't know. Alright.”
“Nothing fancy,” Case said. “We'll just go hang out.”
“Alright.”
“Meg?”
I looked at him. “Yeah?”
“You sure you wanna go out with me? I'm not looking for a pity date here.”
I thought for a long minute. I couldn't figure out why Sara was letting me go out with him, why she'd suddenly changed her mind about my “grounded for life” status. That was still a mystery to me. But I had figured out something in those few minutes that he'd disappeared from the living room. I'd figured out that if I did actually go out with Case, everything was going to change. Everything.
But maybe I needed a change.
I smiled at him.
“I'm sure,” I said. “I'll see you tonight.”
THIRTY FOUR
I walked out into the backyard and squinted into the bright afternoon sunshine. Sara was on her knees bent over a neglected flower bed, digging with a small spade. My heart somersaulted a little as I flashed back to years earlier. My mother had hunched over the same bed, before she'd gained all the weight, before she'd started drinking daily. She'd grown flowers, dozens of varieties, lovingly tending to them, much like she'd tended to me. I don't know what had changed but I remembered when she'd stopped, when the ground had dried up and the plants had withered. It was around the same time that she'd begun to wither. And me, too.
“So I'm not grounded anymore?” I asked, stepping down off the small deck and into the yard.
“Why would you think that?” she asked without looking up.
“Uh, because you apparently told Case I could go out tonight.”
“I told Case you could go out with him tonight. Not go out. Go out with him.”
“There's a difference?”
“Massive difference.”
I backed up a step and sat down on the wooden stairs. I dug my toes into the grass. “I'm confused, Sara.”
She dropped her shovel into the soil and sat up. She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead and sighed. “I know you are, Meg. And I'm trying to help you.”
“Yesterday you told me I couldn't leave the house without an armed escort,” I said.
“That might be an exaggeration.”
“You know what I mean,” I said. “And now Case shows up and it's fine if I go out? I don't get it.”
She took another deep breath. “Alright. I am not the evil aunt you thought I was yesterday. I'm really not. Whether or not you believe it, I really am trying to help.”
I wasn't sure whether I believed it or not.
“That guy on Friday night?” she continued. She shook her head. “That guy is not someone you should be hanging out with. You may not see it, but I do. And I'm guessing your friends do, too. So that guy? Yeah, you aren't going near him if I can help it. Is that judgmental?” She nodded. “Yep. But I get to be judgmental as an adult. I've been around the block, to use an expression that makes me sound ancient.”
I didn't say anything. I was too confused to laugh at her attempt at a joke.
She poked a finger toward the house. “But that kid who just showed up here? That's a kid that my gut tells me might do you some good to spend some time with.”
“Why?” I asked. “How do you know? You just met him?”
She rolled off of her knees and leaned back on her hands, stretching her legs out in front of her. “Couple of reasons. When he knocked on the door, he introduced himself and said he was a friend of yours. Said he'd heard you'd had a rough weekend. He just wanted to make sure you were OK. He didn't even ask to see you. He just wanted to make sure you were OK.”
I stared at my feet in the grass, unable to meet her gaze.
“I talked to him for a couple of minutes before I came and got you,” she said. “He's a nice kid. He has a sense of humor. And I got the sense he was telling me the truth. He was here because he was worried about you. Again. I'm an adult. I get to be judgmental. I thought he was pretty genuine.”
She'd gotten him right. He was absolutely genuine.
“Then I realized he was the one who came and picked you up when you acted like an idiot at your dad's,” she said. “Apparently just came and picked you up when you called him. Score another one for Case.”
I wondered if they'd talked about that night and who'd brought it up.
“I thought it might be good for you to talk to him,” Sara said. “I may not want you hanging out with certain people, but that doesn't mean I want you isolated. That's no good, either. Have you lost my trust?” She nodded. “Yeah. But does that mean you don't get a chance to earn it back?” She shook her head. “No. Because that doesn't make sense and doesn't help anyone.”
Everything she was saying was making sense to me. And it occurred to me that my mom had never talked to me in an even remotely similar way.
“So then he walks out in the backyard and asks if you guys could go out,” she said. “And he says he knows you're grounded and he's not trying to pull anything and if I'm not cool with it, he totally understands and he'll have you home whenever I want you home and blah blah blah.” She smiled. “That boy likes you. I mean, here you are, grounded, having cried your eyes out for a day, your mom's in rehab, you're fighting with your dad and he knows I'm watching everything like a hawk and he apparently doesn't care. Not in an asshole-I-don't-care-way like that boyfriend of yours, but in an it-doesn't-matter-because-I-like-her-regardless sort of way.” She smiled again. “That, Meg, is a good guy. So I went with my gut. I said yes. I may not trust you right at this moment, but I trust him.”
I hoped she couldn't see me blushing in the sun. The way she put it, I'd been an idiot for not realizing Case liked me. Or maybe I just thought there was no way he'd like me. I wasn't sure. But listening to her, I'd been about as blind as could be.
“And one other thing, Meg,” she said.
I looked at her. “What?”
She pointed her finger again at the house. “That kid showed up.”
“Showed up?”
She nodded. “He showed up. He came over here, not knowing me and knowing you were in trouble. And he showed up at your door because he was worried about you. No one else has come over. No one. But Case?” She smiled again. “Case showed up.”
THIRTY FIVE
Case showed up again at six on the button.
After I'd talked with Sara, I'd gone in, showered and spent way too long worrying about what to wear. I was nervous, but I wasn't sure why. Case was a friend. Maybe the dynamics were changing, but he was still a friend. Nonetheless, I spent the better part of the afternoon being nervous and when the doorbell rang at six, the butterflies in my stom
ach morphed into bats.
He'd changed in to a navy T-shirt and khaki pants. His hair was damp, looking almost black against his collar, and his cheeks and chin were smooth, like he'd just shaved. I tried not to stare. He was beautiful—inside and out—and I wondered why I'd never really noticed before.
He smiled at me through the screen door. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I said, opening the door. “Right on time.”
“Am I?” he said, still smiling. “That alright?”
“Yes,” I said, returning his smile and waving him in.
He stepped past me and I caught the scent of soap and something else that gave me goosebumps. No alcohol. No cigarette smoke. Nothing that smelled remotely like Aidan.
Sara walked into the room, a dishtowel in her hands. “Hi, Case.”
“Hi, Sara,” he said, holding up a hand.
“Where are you guys headed?” she asked.
I looked at Case.
“I thought we'd just grab some food and head down to the beach for a little while,” he said, looking at me. “That sound alright?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
He looked at Sara. “That sound OK?”
She nodded. “That sounds fine.”
“Be home by like nine?” he asked.
She smiled. “Nine-thirty is fine.”
He nodded. “Got it.” He looked at me. “You ready?”
“Since you two have it already figured out, I guess so,” I said, a little disgusted. I hated being discussed like I wasn't there.
“Be nice or I'll make it eight thirty,” Sara said, raising an eyebrow.
I headed for the door. “I'll be nice.”
Case followed me outside. His truck was parked at the curb and he held the door open for me.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, stepping up and into the truck.
He walked around the back of the truck and got in on the driver's side. He turned the key in the ignition and the engine rumbled to life.
He turned and looked at me. “You sure you wanna do this?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“You aren't terribly enthusiastic,” he said. “I mean, I feel like you should be thanking me.”