by Jillian Dodd
“Did he tell you what the empty wall was for?” she asks, quickly coming up to speed.
“Yes,” I say with a smile, taking another sip of wine.
Regardless of how the night ended, he told me that I belonged on his dream wall, and that made me feel incredibly happy.
“Oh, boy,” Phillip says, eyeing my dreamy state. “I think I’m going to leave the rest of this conversation to you ladies. I need to go talk to Chase now that he’s settled down a little.” He finishes the rest of his wine, kisses his wife, gets up, then grabs the bottle, and sets it on the table between us.
“He’s up in his room,” Jadyn says. “Be gentle on him. He’s had a rough night.”
“I know he has. That’s why I want to talk to him. Even though he’s grounded, I’m very proud of him. I want to be sure he knows it.” He gives Jadyn an adorable wink, gets Angel to come with him, and then closes the door behind himself.
“Sorry you had to deal with all this tonight,” she says. “You did really well with Dani.”
“I’ve had my fair share of dealing with drunk people,” I reply.
She takes another drink of wine and then says, “So, tell me about the wall.”
I sit up straighter. “You know it’s his dream wall, right?”
She nods.
“He told me about how he wants another picture like the ones with his kids.”
“And?” she prods.
“He said, when he closed his eyes, he envisioned me in the picture.”
She leans her head back into the chair, closes her eyes, and sighs.
“What?” I ask. “Is that good or bad?”
“Oh, that’s very good. While he might call it his dream wall, it’s more like a concrete goal for him. He wants to go out on top.”
“You think, if he wins the big game this year, he’ll retire?”
“I think maybe so. His body is still in pretty good shape—”
“I’d say so. Have you seen his underwear ads?”
Jadyn lets out a laugh. “Yes, I have. Danny has a very nice physique. I was referring to the fact that he’s not had many concussions or injuries. Football can be hard on the body even if you’re in top shape.”
“Makes sense.” I take a sip of wine, contemplating whether or not I should even ask the question I’m considering. Finally, I blurt out, “Is Danny really not good in bed?”
“What makes you think—oh, wait, Lori said something like that at the game, didn’t she?”
“Uh-huh. I want to know what you know.”
“Well, I’ve never slept with him, but you’ve seen him play football. You know how passionate he is.”
“Why would his wife say that?”
“Trying to make it look like she traded up when she didn’t. Trying to make you think that, so you wouldn’t want to sleep with him.”
“Was their sex life bad? Like, I can’t even imagine it ever being anything but amazing with him,” I gush.
“Maybe you’ll have to find out for yourself,” she teases. “But, to answer your question, it was good between them at first. Danny never would have married her otherwise. It went downhill when she was pregnant, and then it came and went in waves.”
“Like an orgasm,” I screech out. Maybe I should stop chugging wine. But then I whisper, “He kissed me.”
“Based off the kiss, what do you think?”
“I think it would be incredible.”
October 28th
Jennifer
I have twenty-seven missed calls, numerous voicemails, and a litany of texts from Troy when I wake up. I listen to the first voice mail and can tell that he was drunk. Again. I delete the rest. I’m not going to deal with it. I send a quick text to his manager, letting him know that I am not getting back together with him and that he needs to get Troy to rehab fast. That he’ll self-destruct otherwise.
My phone buzzes in my hand, only this text is not Jason replying.
Danny: I enjoyed spending time with you last night. Not exactly the way I’d hoped the night would end. I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.
Me: She’s 14. Stuff like that happens.
Me: Wait, how did you hope the night would end?
Danny: I was hoping it would never end.
Me: That might be the most perfect answer ever.
Danny: I’m getting ready to leave for work. I’m in my driveway.
Me: Okay. Cool.
My phone immediately rings.
“I sound like a stalker when I text you,” he says when I answer. “I have a few minutes before I have to leave, and I was wondering …”
“Don’t waste time talking, Danny. Get your ass up here,” I say, hanging up, jumping out of bed, and running to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Thankfully, I always take my makeup off before bed, so I don’t look like a complete mess. Well, except for my hair. But who cares.
I’m spitting out toothpaste when I hear a knock. I drop the toothbrush, wipe my mouth with the towel, and race to the door.
“You’re not naked this time,” he says, giving me a once-over. “But I don’t mind at all.”
I glance down at the skimpy nightie I’m wearing. One that Jadyn bought. “I was in bed when you called.” His eyes wander in that direction along with my mind. “When exactly do you have to leave?”
He reaches out and touches my shoulder, gliding his hand across it and down my arm. Shivers race up my spine.
“Do you have plans for tonight?”
I glance at the bed again. I can’t help it. I swear, I can’t think when this man touches me. I couldn’t back then, and I can’t now.
“Um,” I stutter.
“I’ll be home from practice around five. I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me.”
“More pizza with the family?” I ask.
He doesn't reply, just lets his fingers skip to the skinny strap of my nightie, teasing me. He lets go of the strap, moving his hand to my face.
He briefly presses his lips against mine, and then he’s gone.
I touch my lips, wanting to hold the kiss in. When I hear the door shut, I rush to the window so that I can watch him walk away.
Phillip and Jadyn come out the front door, dressed for a run, as Danny comes around the corner of the house and across their driveway. He stops and talks to Jadyn. I’m not sure what they are talking about, but he glances toward my window as the conversation appears to get heated with Jadyn gesturing big. Danny soon throws his hands up into the air and walks off, getting into his car and leaving.
Jadyn turns to Phillip and appears to be ranting. He grabs her face in his hands and kisses her, very effectively shutting her up. When he stops kissing her, she grins at him and then swats his butt, and they take off on their run.
I move away from the window and sigh dreamily at their display of affection.
But then I wonder if they were arguing about me.
And I probably shouldn’t, but I keep thinking about Dani and how she was crying last night. I put on some clothes, twirl my hair up into a bun, traipse over to their house, and ring the bell.
It’s then that I realize it’s early, and she’s probably still sleeping it off. I’m surprised when she quickly answers the door.
“Hey,” she says, letting me in.
“Hi. I, um, look, I know you don’t know me.”
“You hugged me last night and whispered sweet things to me,” she says. “Thank you.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d be up.”
“My dad slept on the floor of my room last night. He was worried about me. And mad.”
“You scared him,” I reply. “And lied. It felt like a slap in the face to him. Especially with some of the things you were saying.”
“That no one loves me?”
“Yeah.”
“I know my dad loves me. It’s just … the divorce and cheer and school. Sometimes, I feel like a big loser. And tonight is homecoming, and I have no idea what I’m going to do.”
“Well, that’s t
he reason I’m here. Are you grounded?”
“For three weeks or until the end of my life, whichever comes first,” she says in the dramatic way only teens can. “Dad woke me up before he left to let me know that. He was nice and made if effective starting Sunday, so I could still go to the dance. Part of me wishes I were grounded tonight, so I wouldn’t have to go.”
“Why don’t I make some breakfast, and we can talk about it?”
“You like my dad, don’t you?” she asks.
“Um, yeah, I do. But I don’t know if he likes me back.”
She rolls her eyes again as we walk into the kitchen. “Boys.”
“Tell me about it,” I tease as I open the fridge to survey its contents. “But I’m not here because of that. Last night, the things you were crying about. I felt your despair. And I’ve been there. My parents got divorced when I was young. It was rough.”
“Really? All my friends act like it’s no big deal. But it is. Everything in my life is changing all at the same time, and sometimes, I feel like I can barely deal, you know? First, I make varsity. There were parents who got all pissed off. Acted like I only made it because of my last name. They bring judges in who don’t know our names, only our numbers. Our tryouts are judged like a competitive event. Top scores make the first team, and second set makes JV. I’ve taken gymnastic classes and been cheering competitively most of my life. I’m the best tumbler on the squad. But there was all sorts of drama. And half of the seniors hate me because a couple of their friends didn’t make it this year.”
She stops to take a breath when I hold up my finger.
“Waffles, pancakes, or French toast?” I ask. “There’s cinnamon bread in the pantry. I’d vote for the toast.”
“That sounds really good,” she says. “Is there bacon? And do you want me to help you?”
“No. You keep talking. I’ll listen and cook.”
“So then,” she says, apparently agreeing, “my parents decided to get a divorce. Of course, I’m not allowed to tell anyone about it yet, which sucks. Dad doesn’t want the media stuff that will follow. I mean, we’re the perfect family.”
“Do you not like that?”
“I’m not perfect.” Her phone buzzes again. It’s been buzzing off and on since I arrived.
“Do you need to get that?”
She picks up her phone, glances at it, and then sets it back down. “I can’t deal with it right now. Last night was such a disaster. The thing is, I didn’t lie to my dad. I did go to the sleepover. A few guys crashed the party. Next thing I know, there were a whole lot of people there. Then, there was drama because of this guy.”
“The quarterback? What’s his name?”
“It’s Dalton.” She gives me a wry smile. “He’s really cute and a senior; it’s hard not to like the attention.”
I’m dipping toast into an egg wash when it suddenly hits me, how hard parenting is. “Um, Dani, here’s the thing. You don’t date a guy for the attention.” But then I think about myself. “Yet I did it myself.”
“With who?”
“Troy. He showered me with attention when we first met. He was handsome. A freaking rock star. It was flattering.”
“Yeah, but you are an actress. You’re famous, too,” she counters.
“To you, I might be. In my head, I’m still a tomboy with big lips. My dad was an alcoholic and not the best influence on my life. I get wanting attention for attention’s sake. Some of us seek it. But it always seems to come at a price.”
“Like Amsterdam?”
“Yes, exactly.” I put some bacon in a pan to fry while I pour a little batter on the stove’s griddle to see if it’s hot enough yet. I take a sort of perverse pleasure out of getting this spotless stove dirty. “There’s a difference between liking someone because of the attention you get as a couple versus liking someone because he’s an awesome guy who treats you well.”
“My dad treated my mother well. He was also so patient with her, even when she was a bitch, but she still left him.” She puts her head down and traces her finger on the counter. “I’m pretty sure my mom had an affair with Richard. And it bothers me that no one will just tell the truth.”
“Maybe they think you’re not old enough for the truth. What makes you think they were having an affair?”
“Because her story doesn’t add up. She told us she met Richard—he’s her plastic surgeon—and they became friends. She says they just had this attraction, and she couldn’t stop thinking about him. That life is too short to live without that kind of love.”
What she says makes my heart hurt, knowing that I could have given her father that kind of life. “I agree with your mother on that,” I say as I flip the bacon and start cooking the French toast.
“Except she just decided to up and leave my dad after fifteen years because she couldn’t stop thinking about some guy? Who does that? Plus, she moved right in with him. If they were just getting to know each other, she would have gotten her own place. There’s a photo of them together, kissing, at their house. Her hair is colored in a way it was before they separated. So, something was obviously going on.”
“Does it really matter?” I ask her.
“Yes, it does. Because, eventually, it’s all going to come out in the press. And then my friends will hear about it. Really, I’m shocked my parents have managed to keep it a secret for as long as they have.”
“Doesn’t your best friend live next door?” I ask gently.
She’s yet to bring up her fight with Chase.
“He’s like my dad! He doesn’t want me to grow up either. And he's just jealous because of Dalton.”
“Because Chase likes you?”
“It’s not like that. I mean, it’s sort of like that, but we’re friends. He’s my best friend—well, was my best friend.”
“He rescued you from the party last night. It was obvious that you had him scared. And you were going to get in a car with someone who had been drinking a lot.” I get the syrup out, load French toast and bacon onto two plates, then set them on the bar and sit down next to her.
“This looks really good,” she says, digging in.
“You feeling okay this morning?”
“Yeah, Dad said the one good thing about last night was that I puked. Although I owe Auntie Jay and Uncle Phillip apologies, too. And probably everyone else in my life, who I don’t want to face.” She points to her phone, looking forlorn. “He hasn’t texted me. He always texts me.”
“Dalton?”
She shakes her head. “No, Chase. And I know he’s up because my brother was texting me to find out how much trouble I got into. Telling me that he’s mad at me because he and Chase were supposed to go to some eighth grade girl’s spin-the-bottle party tonight, and I ruined everything. Chase must have gotten grounded.”
“Well, he did sneak out of the house and was going to steal his dad’s car. He looked pretty distraught last night.” I wave my fork. “Especially when you said you hated him.”
She lets out another sigh. “I’m supposed to go to the spa today. Would you want to come with me?”
“I thought Jadyn was going?”
“I was thinking maybe you could tell her that you wanted to go instead?”
“Chicken,” I tease.
“Totally,” she agrees, smiling at me.
“When you do that, you look like your dad.”
“When I smile? Yeah, everyone says that.”
“How did you end up with Dani as your nickname?” I blurt out something I’ve been wondering since I got here.
“When Chase tried to say Devaney when he was little, it came out as Dani. He and pretty much everyone but my parents have called me that since.” She lets out another dramatic sigh, probably thinking about how she treated Chase last night. “So, what do you think?” she asks as her phone buzzes again and again.
“I’ll go with you. But only if you don’t take the phone.” She nods her head, but then I say, “And you go apologize to the Mackenz
ies first. All of them.”
“Never mind,” she mutters.
“What time do your appointments start?”
“Eleven.”
I glance at the clock on the microwave. “That means we have about an hour to fix things.” I take her phone off the counter and hand it to her. “Read them to me. I’ll help.”
She takes a last bite of toast and pushes her plate aside.
“Okay. Be brave, Devaney,” she says to herself as she starts scrolling. “First up is the cheer captain. It’s a group text to the squad. She’s freaking out that she’s going to get kicked off the squad because the cops showed up at the party. And she’s mad at the two girls who started the party to begin with.”
“Was she drinking?”
“No, she was freaking out the whole time, trying to get people to leave. Her parents were due home in a few hours. She’s also basically grounded for life.”
“Do they expect you to reply to the group text? Did they mention your name?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t need to reply. If your cheer coach asks on Monday about the party, tell her the truth about who invited the guys and how it got out of control. It’s shitty, what her friends did to her.”
“I can do that. Hmm. I have some other random texts from people about the party. Mostly from people who weren’t there, wanting to know if the rumors are true.” She keeps scrolling, and her phone keeps vibrating. “Oh, no.”
“What?”
“Apparently, the cheer coach found out and called everyone’s parents. Everyone is getting grounded and … ooh … Dalton’s date just sent a text in big bold letters, saying that she’s grounded and that her parents won’t let her go to the dance tonight.”
“And has Dalton texted you?”
“Yeah. He broke his hand. His throwing hand. He’ll be out for the rest of the season. Idiot.”
“Idiot?”
She rolls her eyes. “Or I’m probably the idiot.”
“Maybe you should tell Chase that.”