"Coming...?" Sam replies, his expression blank.
"To brunch, silly. Your mom didn't tell you?"
Sam groans like this is an old argument. "Come on Chel-"
"Cap! Come on, it'll be fun," she whines.
Sam gives her a skeptical look. "I think you and I have different ideas of what constitutes fun."
Chelsea glares at him for a second before changing tact and smiling again. "Your mom's coming. If you come I'm sure Bits will too. You know how much she needs to get out, Cap-"
"Alright, Chel, fine whatever," Sam interrupts her.
"It'll be good for-"
"Have you met Rory?" Sam interrupts again and I don't know if he's saving me from being ignored or using me as an excuse for a subject change.
Chelsea turns and finally acknowledges that I do, in fact, exist. She looks me up and down before plastering on the fakest smile I have ever witnessed.
"No, I don't believe we've met. New girl, right?" Chelsea says through overly whitened, perfectly straight teeth framed by unnaturally glossy, red lips.
I just nod. She reminds me so much of Lacey with her false enthusiasm.
"So nice to meet you."
I don't say it back. I just say "thanks". Chelsea takes a step closer to Sam and puts a hand casually on his bicep. It's a possessive gesture and he doesn't stop her. Idly I wonder if Carl and Tina were right about their relationship - or lack of relationship.
"So, how do you know Cap?" she asks.
"I, uh, don't really," I murmur, and Sam's brow furrows. "Um, excuse me." I spot Carl with Tina and a couple of other girls over on the deck and I head straight for them without turning back, leaving Chelsea and Sam to their private conversation.
Sam doesn't seek me out again and other than briefly locking eyes with him once later in the evening by accident, I have no other interaction with him. I don't know why he unnerves me. And not in the way other people unnerve me. Other guys. There's no fear. But there's something.
I ask Carl to drive me home around 11:00 pm and go right to bed praying for a dreamless slumber, though I know instead it will be fitful and riddled with nightmares.
****
The weekend is slow and uneventful. I mostly read and hang out with my mom. On Sunday afternoon I turn down a shopping trip with Carl in favor of therapy. I can't reschedule. I've tried that before as an excuse to avoid the sessions altogether, and they know my maneuvers by now. Though lately I've been more receptive of Dr. Schall, whom my doctor down in Florida referred, I've only been in New York a few weeks and we don't really trust each other just yet. Instead, I show up to my appointment and make arrangements to move my sessions to Thursday evenings so my weekends can be free to spend time with my new friends. Dr. Schall is happy to oblige me and is pleased that I'm working my way back into social situations. The road back to normal. Even though Dr. Schall hates that expression. He doesn't believe in normal and he hates when I use the word.
I spend the rest of my Sunday studying calculus and realize that I'm even further behind than I thought. Damn I hate calculus.
The next day I ask Mr. Frank about extra help and he points disinterestedly to the student tutoring sign-up sheet tacked to the bulletin board, so I quickly add my name to the list of "tutorees" and hurry off to my next class. When I head out to the parking lot to meet the girls for lunch, Tina and Carl are talking to Andrew and Tuck and their friends are close by. I see Sam, and he sees me, but doesn't approach me, doesn't say "hi". I remind myself I told him we couldn't be friends, but for some reason his going out of his way to ignore me stings.
The rest of the week goes by like the last, except Sam still doesn't acknowledge me. When I run into him in the student lot again, I venture a greeting. It's no more than a murmured hello, but he just offers a quick, forced smile, and continues to ignore me.
I try not to sneak glances his way, but it's hard. He's really insanely attractive. I also try not to take offense to the fact that he no longer seems to notice I'm alive, and remind myself that this is want I wanted. To be invisible. But I can't not notice how much Chelsea clings to him whenever possible, and though he doesn't seem to flirt with her or show her anything other than friendly affection, he certainly doesn't push her away. I have no right to be bothered by this, and yet...
It's finally Friday again and while we eat lunch at the diner, Tina invites us to Andrew's again for a party tonight. Apparently his parents go away most weekends. My parents used to go away every other weekend - taking turns with my dad's brother to stay with their mother, my Nanna Joyce, since the state didn't cover weekend help and her dementia made it impossible to leave her alone. I always stayed with Cam on those weekends until last year when I stayed at the Forbes'. When Cam and I were kids we slept in bed together, but once we were eleven or so Cam started sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor and giving me the bed. I wince again at the memories and excuse myself to the bathroom to blink back the sudden tears and count backwards from ten. Three times. But it works, I calm.
I wonder about Sam and Chelsea's relationship, even though it's in no way my business. Their parents are friends, and so are they, but she obviously wants more. Much more. I think about how unenthusiastic he was about brunch with their families. Or his mom and whoever the hell "Bits" is. It sounds like a pet's name.
When I return to our table, Carl is talking about some incident at last week's party that I must have missed. Apparently some girl named Sara, one of Chelsea's minions, made a move on Sam by making some drunken suggestive offer. He just laughed her off, but Chelsea was not amused. By Monday rumors were swirling about Sara and one especially nasty sexually transmitted disease. Carl hedges that there's no doubt as to the rumors' source.
"What is it with them? Chelsea and Sam, I mean. You said he wasn't interested in her, but it's obvious she seems to have some claim on him, and their families know each other, right?" I ask, unable to keep my curiosity at bay any longer.
Tina laughs. "She wishes she had a claim on him, but I mean, yeah they're friends. They've always been friends, Cap's mom is tight with Chelsea's parents," Tina shrugs.
"Just his mom?" I ask.
"Yeah, his dad left when we were in middle school. They're divorced," Carl explains.
"Who is, uh, Bits?" Obviously this is someone Sam cares about if his - or her - needing to get out was enough to get Sam to agree to a brunch he was otherwise uninterested in attending.
Tina shrugs again, "No idea, sounds like a cat?" She laughs.
"No, Bits is Beth. Cap calls her Bits, it's like a childhood nickname or something," Carl explains.
"Ahh," Tina says and nods with some kind of understanding. I look back and forth between the two of them.
"And Beth is...?"
"Cap's kid sister."
I didn't know Sam had a sister. But then, why would I? We're not even friends.
"Does she go to school with us?" I ask.
Carl shakes her head. "Not anymore. She's a sophomore, but she's homeschooled now."
Why would she be home schooled? I want to ask more questions, but the subject has already shifted to Tina and Andrew and how excited she is to stay over his place this weekend while his parents are away. Apparently they've been sleeping together for a while, but haven't actually slept together. They've had plenty of sex, but she's always gone home. It seems the physical part of their relationship preceded the emotional side, but now they're catching up. Tina, it would appear, is in love. I offer a cursory smile.
I could not be more disconnected from the conversation. How common can finding actual true love in high school really be? If there even is such a thing. I never loved my ex, but that didn't stop me from thinking I might, and the one person I was sure I really did love, was gone before I even had a chance to explore it. Sometimes I like to think it would have worked out. Others, my new cynical self shoots down any of those kinds of sentimental fantasies. It can't change anything anyway, what's done is done, and my only examples of "love" are pathe
tic excuses for the concept. My parents' love story obviously didn't last. Even before I caused their divorce, they'd never matched the people described in the college love story I was told.
I wonder if Tina is sleeping with Andrew because she thinks she's supposed to. The way she talks about sex, it would seem like she really enjoys it. I wonder if she makes it sound that way because she thinks she's supposed to. If she says she loves him because she wants it to be true. In public they're always affectionate, and she seems so happy. But I know better than anyone, just because they seem like some golden couple, doesn't mean it's true. The way they act in public probably has little to do with the way they act in private.
Or maybe they really are in love and she really does enjoy their sex life. What would I know about it anyway? I used to think I was just a late bloomer, but then I was convinced there was always something wrong with me. I'd said I just wasn't ready, but I was seventeen at the time, everyone else was ready. By the time I had my first experience with actual desire, it was overshadowed by all the bad, and then gone in the blink of an eye.
Maybe that's why Sam unnerves me so much. Because he's not only attractive - Robin was attractive, Cam was attractive - but Sam, I'm attracted to him. I'm starting to think that maybe I was right in the first place. That I just wasn't ready. I try to think of things I could have done differently. I play this game all the time, but Dr. Schall says that it's a waste of time. That I should focus on the future, on future relationships. What kind of relationship could I possibly have now, I wonder? I can't even allow someone to invite me to go for a walk without accusing them of trying to seduce me into God even knows what.
CHAPTER FIVE
September, Last year
The school week goes by like normal, except I notice Robin notice me. I ride to school with Cam as always, and wait for him after football practice. Lacey convinced me to try out for cheerleading, and it was easy enough for me to make the squad since I've always been naturally athletic. Our practice ends only thirty or so minutes before the football players get out, so I sit on the bleachers doing homework while Cam showers and changes every day.
Other than a nod in the hallway or a passing smile - though that's a great deal more than I'd ever gotten before - Robin doesn't acknowledge that he'd asked me out, and that we have plans on Friday. Cam asks me a few times if I'm sure I want to go and assures me that I could still change my mind, but I don't want to.
On Friday, the day goes by at a snail's pace. There's no game today, just a practice, so the football players aren't wearing their jerseys to class, but the cheerleaders have to wear their uniforms every Friday whether there's a game or not. Next week will be the first away game and in three weeks is homecoming. Though there will be a vote, there's no doubt that Robin and Maddie will be King and Queen and Cam and either Lacey or Missy will likely be Junior Prince and Princess. Other than teasing Cam about it, I'd never been interested in homecoming court, but now that I'm a cheerleader I'll at least have to ride in the parade and wear my uniform to the dance I've never even bothered attending before.
At lunch I'm chatting with the girls when Cam and our friend Chip join our table in the cafeteria. Lacey automatically scoots over to make room, knowing Cam will sit next to me and this way he'll have to sit next to her, too. Chip sits on my other side, in between me and Emmers, who's shy smile indicates that she's pleased with the arrangement. I've noticed her little crush before, but Chip remains clueless. He slides his arm around the back of my chair and his other hand finds the bare skin of my knee and I roll my eyes, still so unused to my friends seeing me as sexual prey. Chip and I have been friends since little league.
"Damn, Rory, I don't think I've ever seen you in a skirt outside a' church. I like it," he says raising his eyebrows suggestively. I swat his hand off my knee just as Cam, from my opposite side, swings Chip's arm from the back of my chair, nearly pushing his over.
"Back off, Chip, she's your friend," Cam reminds him with a glare that would intimidate a prize fighter. I put a hand on Cam's broad shoulder to call him off. Chip is just being Chip, he doesn't know any better.
"It's fine, Cam, I can handle myself." I turn back to Chip, "Franklin Chipley, the next time your hand finds its way to my leg, it will be returned minus at least one finger," I warn sweetly with a overly saccharine smile. Chip puts his palms forward in surrender.
"Point taken, Jeez," he murmurs. "But you shouldn't prance around in short little skirts with legs like that. How's a man to help himself?"
"Man?" I ask with a skeptical smirk. Chip play punches me in the arm, and just like that I'm back to being one of the guys. "And it's my uniform," I grumble. He knows I'm not used to wearing short skirts like this any more than he's used to seeing me in them.
"Whatever, Rory girl," he says, adopting Cam's nickname for me, next time wear those legging things underneath," he suggests.
"It's eighty degrees!" I argue. Cam reinserts himself and it's like he hasn't noticed the jest in the exchange, though I'm not sure how it could've been missed.
"She'll wear what she likes, and you'll keep your hands to yourself." Cam's voice is quiet, but full of warning.
"Whatever dude, I was kidding... sorta. Relax!"
Cam, placated, goes back to eating his sandwich and out of the corner of my eyes I can see Lacey swooning as she always does at Cam's protective streak, and as always, I wish it was intended for her benefit and not mine. I can handle myself. Certainly with Chip anyway.
****
Practice always ends early on Fridays when there's no game. When Cam and I reach his car in the student lot, there's a white rose tucked under the windshield wiper on the passenger side. I stop in my tracks and Cam sighs. I look at him, bemused. He just shrugs.
"Well it ain't for me," he says, and I look around to spot Robin staring at me from where he stands beside his car across the lot. He smiles, winks, folds himself into the driver's seat, and drives off. "Jeez. He's pullin' out all the stops, i'nt he?" Cam grumbles.
"Well it's on your car, maybe you're the one he likes," I tease as I pick up the rose and realize there's a note tucked under it:
See you at 7, Sweetheart. Can't wait.
I blush and try to hide my smile.
"Yeah, well he should buy me a whole damn bouquet since I'm the only reason he's scorin' any touchdowns this season," Cam murmurs and we both climb into the car.
****
I've never owned many dresses, but I did purchase a few on shopping trips with Lacey this summer. I choose a short, flouncy, red dress that has a fitted bodice with cap sleeves. I leave my hair loose and am thankful that my mother insisted on taking the time last year to teach me how to do my makeup. Lacey's tutelage left me with blue shadow and bright pink cheeks - so not me. My perpetual blushing around Robin does not require any cosmetic assistance, and I feel much more comfortable in just a little earth toned shadow and mascara paired with a sheer lip gloss. I barely recognize myself in the mirror. I look like such a girl.
I can't believe I'm about to go on my first date and it's with none other than Robin Forbes. I have no idea how to act, what to say. He's going to kiss me, he said as much last week, and I haven't a clue how to kiss. I start to think I should have taken Cam up on his offer to teach me. Or maybe I should have listened to him and just declined this date in the first place. I text him.
I'm freaking. You around?
Yep.
His reply is not only immediate, but I can actually hear his laughter and look out my window to see if he's outside, but it's too dark to tell.
A knock sounds on my door and I swing it open to find Cam in his worn dark jeans and a fitted black tee shirt. He really is the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome - at least physically - right down to that perfect Florida tan. It's obvious why Lacey and half the girls in our grade are obsessed. He runs his hand through his overlong chocolate-brown locks and I'm thrown for a second by how positively male he looks. Suddenly he's not my best buddy Cam, he's a hot guy,
and I don't know where these wayward thoughts are coming from. I step back, gesture for him to enter and raise my eyebrows for an explanation as to how he made it over so quickly. That's how it's been since we were kids - we don't always need words to have a conversation. Sometimes we can get through an entire exchange with only a few glances.
"I was downstairs," he shrugs. That means he was talking football with my dad. Dad's a fan of Cam's too. I pull him by the sleeve into my room so I can close the door. "Your dad was grilling me about your date," he smirks.
Really? Though, I don't know why this surprises me. My father is only interested in my life when a Forbes is involved. I'm sure "grilling" is an exaggeration, but the thought that my dad might care about me or something I do gets my attention. The thought of him worrying after me positively melts me.
"What'd he say?" I ask. Because he's said nothing to me. Not one word.
Cam rolls his eyes. He gets along with my dad just fine, but I know Cam doesn't like how much my father ignores me lately. Cam is the only one who knows how much I crave my father's affection, even if I put up a good front, even to him.
"He asked me if Forbes' intentions were honorable," he murmurs, but I can tell from his tone that there's more, and I look at him expectantly, knowing he won't lie to me, not even to spare my feelings. "He wanted to know if Forbes might get serious about you or if he's just messin' around. I think he wants to know if he should get his hopes up at the chance of bein' future father-in-law to the great Robin Forbes." He speaks quickly, hating reporting anything that might hurt me, even though I just laugh it off as I always do. It's not as if I wasn't aware of the impetus for my father's sudden interest in my life.
"What'd you say?" I ask, and I know Cam can detect the disappointment in my voice. He slings an arm around my shoulder.
"I told him that if a guy like Forbes was gonna get serious about anybody, it'd be you Rory girl," he says meaningfully. I turn to face him.
"Do you really think that?" I ask. I don't think Cam would say something he didn't think was true just to make me feel better, but I can't be sure. I know he doesn't lie to me, but I also know he'd do practically anything to prevent me from being hurt, and this me-dating thing is new territory for the both of us.
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