“I didn’t really think Chad was her type.”
“Duh.”
Okay, that’s a bit of a slam. Time to change the subject. “I saw Logan watching you tonight.”
“What?” She looks at me with renewed interest.
I nod and put my lip gloss back into my Marc Jacobs bag. “While you were waiting for drinks. He was just a few feet away from you and it was like he couldn’t take his eyes off you.” This is partially true, although I’m not sure it’s worth much, because the look in his eyes wasn’t exactly adoration. More like lust, I think. Like he was just checking out her body, which is not really the way I would want a guy to look at me. But then I know that Kendra still sort of likes him and I think she wants a second chance with him. Maybe I can help facilitate that.
“Really?” She looks amused. “You saw that?”
“And I don’t know why he wouldn’t be looking,” I continue. “You look really great tonight, Kendra. Your outfit is awesome.”
She tells me who the designers are and that she just got it last night. “It’s hard not being a cheerleader anymore,” she says sadly. “But I try to make up for it by looking really good.”
“Well, you make our cheerleading outfits look pretty juvenile,” I admit.
“Hey, I think the outfits are cute,” she says. “I just wish I could have mine back.” “I know.”
“But back to Logan. You really think he was watching me?”
I nod. “What’s he like anyway? I mean, he’s in a couple of my AP classes, but I haven’t really talked to him that much. Although he’s always nice enough to me.”
“Really? You guys are in AP together?”
“Yeah. He seems like a pretty smart guy.” Okay, that’s a lie. The truth is, I’ve wondered how he got into the AP classes. Maybe he knows someone.
“Yeah, he is smart. And he’s fun too. Hey, maybe you could talk to him sometime for me, Reagan. Just casually, you know. Don’t let him know that I asked, but just find out why it hasn’t worked out with me.”
“Sure. I can do that.”
“You’re such a good friend.” She gives me a little sideways hug and we go back out into the noisy restaurant.
“I thought you guys totally took off,” says Sally when we rejoin them at the table. “Where were you?”
“Just in the ladies’ room,” says Kendra lightly.
“Was someone sick?” Sally looks suspiciously at me.
“No.” Kendra sounds impatient. “Just girl talk.”
Sally scowls now. “And you left me out?”
“Hey, it’s not like we planned some special meeting.” Kendra shakes her head. “Lighten up, Sally.” Then she nods over to where Jocelyn and Chad are playing a video game. “I thought you were on top of that.”
“A girl can only do so much.” Sally glares at me now. “Why’d you bring her here anyway?”
“Don’t be blaming Reagan for what you can’t do,” says Kendra in a sharp tone.
Sally slams her drink down on the table, stands up, and walks off. Kendra just shrugs like it’s no big deal, like Sally will get over it. But I’m thinking there is trouble in paradise. And this makes me happy.
“Do you want to go to the mall tomorrow?” she asks.
“Sure.”
“And we can pick up some party things for the barbecue.” “Sounds great.”
Of course, this reminds me that I haven’t made arrangements for Nana yet. I did ask Mom if it was okay to host the event at our house next Saturday, and after I convinced her that I would take care of absolutely everything — including Nana — she agreed. Now I just need to talk to Andrea. It’s so ironic that I actually have to ask this particular girl for a favor of this magnitude. I’m guessing there will be some groveling to do.
eleven
THE NEXT MORNING AFTER I TAKE CARE OF NANA, I DECIDE TO WALK OVER TO Andrea’s house. Somehow I think this might work better if I grovel in person. It’s after ten so I assume she’ll be up, but I still feel a little awkward as I knock on the door.
“Oh, hello, Reagan,” says Mrs. Lynch. “We haven’t seen you in ages. How are you anyway?”
“Oh, I’ve been pretty busy,” I tell her. “There’s been a lot to get used to with the new school and taking care of my grandmother and all.” I throw in that last bit hoping to buy some sympathy, just in case she’s not happy about the way I dumped her daughter as a friend a few weeks ago.
She nods. “Yes, I know. Andrea has told us about her. Is it Alzheimer’s?”
“I guess so. That’s what my mom thinks. She wants to put her in a nursing home. But I’m trying to help out so she can stay with us.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you.”
“Uh, is Andrea here?”
Mrs. Lynch laughs. “Of course. I guess you didn’t come over here to visit me, did you?”
“It’s nice visiting with you,” I say quickly, feeling like a little hypocrite.
“Come on in, make yourself at home. I’ll get her.”
So I sit on the big plaid sectional in the family room. The layout of this room is just like ours with the fireplace on one end and French doors to the right. Of course, our furniture is nicer. Theirs is pretty frumpy and worn. Andrea says it’s because of all her older brothers and sisters before her. She’s the youngest of five kids and the only one at home now.
“Hi, Reagan,” she says as she joins me in the family room. Her brow is creased in that way I used to warn her would make her wrinkle prematurely. Not that she ever seemed to care. “What’s up?”
I begin my rehearsed speech. “I just wanted to thank you for how you’ve been visiting and helping out with my grandma.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I think she’s fun.”
I smile but I’m thinking, This is so pathetic — a sixteen-year-old girl befriends a senile old woman and thinks it’s fun. I mean, sure, I think Nana is fun, but she’s my grandma. That’s totally different. “Well, she really likes you, Andrea. And because cheerleading practice doesn’t usually end until after four, well, it really helps break up her day when you stop by. I appreciate it too.”
Andrea nods. “Well, that’s nice of you to say. By the way, congratulations on making cheerleader. That was pretty amazing.”
“Thanks. It’s been kind of a challenge, you know.” Okay, really, how would she possibly know? Still, I’m trying to be nice here.
“I know,” she says. “I heard Kendra Farnsworth was pretty upset. But I’ve seen you two together. So I guess you must’ve patched things up. That’s nice.”
“Yeah. We’re friends.”
She gets an expression I can’t quite read now. But it’s sort of worry mixed with curiosity. Still, she doesn’t say anything.
“Anyway, I have a favor to ask. Well, actually more like a job.”
So I launch into the whole barbecue thing and how it would be extremely helpful to have someone looking after Nana, and she nods like she really does understand. And I start to feel hopeful.
“I’m sure that would be awkward, having all the cheerleaders at your house with your grandmother there.” Somehow, the way she says this gives me the impression she’s making fun of me, and I feel irritated. Yet, it’s not like I can say anything. Andrea has the upper hand in this.
“It’s just that I don’t think I can take care of Nana and host the party too,” I say. “You know?”
“Do you think she’d be okay over here? I mean, would it be confusing for her? Would she be disoriented?”
I consider this. Andrea is making a very good point. But I don’t want to be bothered with it. I just want this taken care of. I remind myself of how Mom can be when she wants something done and wants it done right. I want to be careful not to sound like that. “I don’t know,” I begin. “I mean, Nana really likes you, Andrea. You have totally won her over, which I think is really sweet of you. I actually feel bad that I wasn’t a better friend to you …”
“Really?”
I nod but tell
myself to not go too far. To not get carried away. “Anyway, I think if Nana was with you, she’d be perfectly fine. And, don’t forget, I do plan to pay you. I already mentioned that, didn’t — ”
“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want you to pay me. I’ll just do it — ”
“No, I insist. I wouldn’t feel right.”
“But I like Ruth,” she says. It’s weird hearing her use Nana’s first name. “I’d do it just to spend time with her.”
“Why?” I ask suddenly. I mean, I really am curious about this. Is Andrea really that desperate for companionship? Is she that pathetic?
She sort of shrugs, then looks down at the coffee table. As usual, there’s a big black leather Bible there. I think it’s her dad’s, but every time I was here last summer that Bible was always there. Sometimes it was open. Sometimes not. I asked if her family was religious and at first she said no, but then I discovered they went to church a lot, so I figured she was lying. Probably embarrassed.
“It’s kind of a long story,” she says. “But the short version is that I like spending time with Ruth because Jesus has put her on my heart. I think she needs me around.”
I blink and try not to look too stunned. “What do you mean she needs you?”
“Well, she’s lonely … and she’s old … and I think she needs me to show her a Jesus kind of love.” “A Jesus kind of love?”
“Yes.” Andrea looks up, straight at me now. “Everyone needs to see a Jesus kind of love — that’s like love in action.”
“Oh.”
“So, anyway, I’d be happy to have Ruth over here. But I don’t want you to pay me. I feel that would be wrong.”
Okay, I’m not particularly fond of this arrangement, but then who am I to argue here? I am desperate. I’ll agree to almost anything as long as she’ll do this for me. And I am so relieved that she wants to. Really, why should it bug me that she’s bringing Jesus into it? It’s not like I have feelings one way or the other when it comes to Jesus or God or religion. It’s her business, not mine.
“Well, that’s great, Andrea. I really appreciate it. I don’t even know how to thank you.”
She smiles. “Just consider it a gift from God.”
“Well, yeah. Okay, I guess.”
She sort of laughs. “I know you don’t really understand this, Reagan. I don’t even expect you to. But I have a feeling that God is at work in both you and your grandma. Now, what day is this barbecue?”
“Next Saturday.”
She looks worried now. “Next Saturday?”
“Yes, is that a problem?”
“That’s the Wild Life retreat weekend.”
“What’s a wildlife retreat?” Okay, this sounds like something totally weird and I’m starting to wonder what kind of freak she is. Is it even a good idea to leave Nana in her care? Not that I have so many options.
“Wild Life is a youth ministry for middle-school kids. Maybe you’ve heard of Young Life?”
“They had Campus Life at my old high school,” I say, not mentioning that only geeks actually went to the meetings. “Is it like that?”
“I think so. Anyway, Wild Life is like the younger version of Young Life. And this is my first year of being a counselor and I’m just getting to know the kids, and I have to go on this retreat.”
“You have to?” I feel myself frowning now, getting impatient.
She nods. “I have to go. I’m sorry. Can you have the barbecue some other weekend?”
“No.” Okay, now I’m getting mad. I can’t believe I came over here and begged and groveled and now Andrea is saying no.
“I really am sorry, Reagan. If I could do this for you, I would.”
“But what about all that stuff you said about God and Jesus?” I demand. “You said Jesus wanted you to love Nana — and how she was old and sick and everything — and you’re not even willing to do this?” Okay, I know I’m being totally unreasonable and I can’t believe how selfish I sound. But I’m desperate.
“Jesus wants me to love the middle-school kids too,” she says calmly. “And that was a previous commitment. I can love Ruth during the week and — ”
“But I need you on Saturday.”
“I can’t help you, Reagan.”
I stand now. I want to scream at her, but I know that’s crazy, not to mention pointless and rude. “Thanks a lot,” I say in flat voice.
“So you didn’t mean anything you said?” I can hear the hurt in her voice. “It was all just to get what you wanted from me?”
“What?”
“That whole nice act was just so you could use me?” I don’t say anything.
She waves her hand as if to dismiss everything. “It’s okay. It’s what I should expect. It’s just too bad, Reagan.”
“What’s too bad?”
“That you’re becoming like them.”
“Them? Who?”
“You know, the mean girls. The ones who will say and do anything to get what they want. For some reason I thought you were different.” She shakes her head like she’s sorry for me. Sorry for me! “But it’s okay,” she continues. “I suppose you can’t help it.”
Now, this just really makes me mad, like she thinks she’s superior to me. “You don’t know the first thing about it,” I snap. “Or me. Your life is nothing like mine and I can’t expect you to understand how it is to be — to be popular”
She sort of laughs now. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Reagan. But then, you haven’t known me that long. The truth is, I used to be one of those girls — a mean girl — and I know what it’s about … the games they play … the users walking all over the losers. But then I found a better way. And nothing, not a thing, could entice me to go back to that.”
I narrow my eyes and give her a look that’s meant to convey I don’t believe her. No way could Andrea Lynch ever have been popular. She is a geek. A total and complete geek. Not only is she a geek, but she must be delusional too. Poor thing. If I wasn’t so angry I’d feel sorry for her.
“I’ll be praying for you,” she says as I head for the door.
“Don’t bother,” I say in a snooty tone.
“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t mind.”
What is wrong with this girl? Is she totally nuts or what? “And don’t bother coming to see my grandmother anymore either.”
“Why not?”
I turn around and look at her now. “Because I don’t think I like the kind of influence you might have on her. I think you’re some kind of weird religious fanatic and you’re probably trying to convert her to some crazy religion. And I don’t think that either my mom or I would appreciate it. So stay away from her.”
She blinks and looks hurt. I do not care. I do not freaking care. I walk through her house and past her mom, who looks slightly stunned and I’m sure has been listening. I walk out the door and back to my house, promising myself to never speak to that lunatic again. Some people!
“Where’ve you been?” Mom asks me once I’m in the house.
“Nowhere.”
“Well, do you plan to be home today?”
“Why?”
“Because I’d like to go out.”
I remember my plans to hang with Kendra, but I don’t mention it. “I don’t know why you think someone needs to be here with Nana on the weekends. She’s by herself all day on the weekdays, what’s the — ”
“That’s exactly why I think she needs someone here, Reagan. Because she’s alone the rest of the week. It seems the least we can do is spend time with her on the weekends.”
“I do spend time with her. But do I have to spend every waking minute with her?”
“No, of course not. I just wondered if you’d be around.”
“Well, I was going to get some paper plates and things for the barbecue next weekend.”
“That shouldn’t take long.”
“No …”
“And you’ll be home after that?”
“Yes.”
“So, no prob
lem.”
“Right. No problem.”
She smiles now. “I have to say, Reagan, I’m really proud of how you’re helping out around here. The house has been so clean every evening when I get home. Nana seems to be in good spirits. I think you were right about keeping her home with us.” Then she opens her purse and hands me some money. “Use this for your barbecue things, sweetie.”
I thank her and don’t bother to mention that I’ve had help. No way am I going to tell her how Andrea Lynch has been popping in this week on her little mission of mercy. If Mom wants to think it was all my doing, well, fine. After this, it will be all my doing. Suddenly I wish I hadn’t spouted off to Andrea like that. What was I thinking?
I put Nana’s lunch in the fridge, turn on the country music channel, lock the doors, and tell her to be good.
She grins. “I’m always good, Reagan.”
I nod. “Well, stay out of trouble then.” I set the cordless phone by her and remind her which button to push if she needs me. My cell phone number is on speed dial and I’ve painted the number with red fingernail polish. Even so, I’m not sure she can remember how to do it.
I feel a little guilty as I ride off in Kendra’s convertible. But not for long. Soon we are laughing and talking and I am actually having fun. Maybe because Sally and Meredith aren’t with us. I put thoughts of stupid Andrea Lynch behind me. I put thoughts about Nana and what she might or might not do today behind me. Today is a day for fun.
And we have fun. Kendra is great at planning a party, and after we get all that stuff, we head over to the mall, where I help her spend a lot of money at Nordstrom. I buy a shirt just to have something to carry around, so I won’t look like a loser. Then we go to a new shoe store that carries some exclusive designers, and Kendra buys an awesome pair of red heels by Christian Dior. She plans to wear them for homecoming, since she’ll be in the court.
“What are you wearing with them?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s not like it’s a big deal. I’ll probably just throw something together at the last minute.” I act like I get that, but the truth is, I don’t. Still, I don’t want to look stupid. After that, we stop for a coffee and I notice that it’s nearly five. I tell Kendra that I should head for home. She’s reluctant, but I insist.
Harsh Pink with Bonus Content Page 10