Finally, Blair hurled the last piece of clothing into the donate pile. I was glad we were done with my wardrobe assessment. Half the time I wore Blair’s clothes anyway.
“We’ll go shopping next weekend because you are pitifully low on pink and green. Are you sure you want teal to be your signature color? I think I am going with Kelly green for now.”
“Are you sure I NEED a signature color? I am not a movie star,” I laughed. I flipped through a magazine on my bed.
“We don’t need to go over that again, do we? Besides, you have more pressing issues. Hasn’t your dad noticed you need a new pair of white Bucks? These are almost no longer white!” Blair pointed out.
“I think that is last on my dad’s list of things to notice. He’s been in Afghanistan for the last two weeks. I will tell him I need to use his Visa for a fashion emergency next time he calls…” My answer and Blair’s fashion show were interrupted by a knock at the front door.
Blair looked through my window sheers and asked, “Why is Reid’s car here?”
“WHAT?” I hadn’t seen this coming and I felt jittery as I walked to the front door. I found Reid standing impatiently with one arm across the doorway. Despite his hurried air, I could tell he was amused. He was enjoying reading the confusion on my face. I regrouped and quickly recovered.
I fought down a laugh as I asked, “Shouldn’t you be at your own party?”
He nodded. “I’m not there because the only reason I had it didn’t show up.” His slightly exasperated tone was softened by my favorite smirk. He overshadowed me in the doorway and his directness left my head spinning. I diverted my eyes to keep his from locking on me.
I studied his clothes. He was wearing seersucker shorts and a white Britches polo shirt with the collar up. In the process, I couldn’t help but note his attractiveness. I focused on the embroidered warthog logo on his chest to further collect myself.
“I thought I’d come by and see if you needed a ride.”
Touché, I thought. He made a clever move. I looked back up at him and his eyes raked over me. I was not dressed for going out. My T-shirt was faded and my Umbro shorts had the waistband flipped over so they wouldn’t fall down.
“Blair’s hanging out here with me…but we aren’t exactly ready to go,” I said, finding my voice. I scrambled to gather my scattered wits and to keep up my usual banter. “Are you sure it’s not too early in the season for seersucker? And is collar up optional or required?”
Reid’s body relaxed into laughter. “I drive all the way here to get you, and you STILL sass me?” he said incredulously. He felt around his neck for his collar. He folded it down as if he was unaware it had been up in the first place. “You are truly unbelievable. Go get dressed. The meter’s running. You have three minutes!” He tapped his TAG diving watch on his thick wrist. He gave me a compelling smile and the scales moved again in his favor.
“All right, all right,” I acquiesced. “I feel bad that your barbeque would be lame without me.” I left him standing in the hall with my dog, Fergus, so I could get changed. On my way to my room, I practically ran into Blair, who had been waiting and listening around the corner.
“I’m not even going to pretend you didn’t already hear everything. Let’s get changed,” I said. We started to go through my clothes that were now in Blair’s sorted mounds on the floor. “I guess I have saved myself a phone call since you’re here to tell me what I can and cannot wear,” I said as Blair started tossing clothes at me and I flung my T-shirt onto my bed.
A jean skirt, a pink T-shirt, and an argyle sweater vest came flying in my direction. I grabbed my white Bucks, which were, in my opinion, perfectly scuffed and worn-in enough for my liking. Blair, who never left her house in anything shabby, was barbeque ready in a white polo shirt, green Bermuda shorts, and a pair of Jack Rogers sandals.
“Where is your navy belt with the green and white lighthouses, Whit?” She scoured my bedroom floor, grabbed it, and looped it through the holes of her shorts as she followed me down the stairs. We looked like we had walked off the pages of The Preppy Handbook.
I grabbed my sunglasses, went outside, and got into the car. I really didn’t have much time to consider what Reid said to me at my front door or if this was how he had planned the entire invitation from the beginning. The thought that perhaps I had underestimated him crossed my mind. I was fully aware of the home advantage—and that he had acquired it.
I refused to react when moments later we rumbled over bricks laid in an intricate pattern on his expansive driveway. The waterfront house was white brick with black shutters. It was enormous. The party was outside and I could hear the music.
I hadn’t realized everyone would see me arrive with Reid. I could feel their eyes on us. My flight instinct was fluttering to the surface. I wanted to get out of the car so I could exit center stage. I pushed my sunglasses up onto the bridge of my nose. It was my only protection.
“After you,” he said with a smile of satisfaction. Yes, he knew he had played his hand well. But why did he want me here so badly? Did he really think he could awe me into dating him?
We walked into the marbled foyer. An all-glass corridor down the hall gave us a view of the courtyard outside. The Potomac River was a shimmering ribbon beyond the rolling lawn. Everyone turned to look at the three of us.
“Are you sure his last name isn’t Carrington?” Blair whispered to me as we walked by a table set up with punch glasses filled to the brim. She took two and handed me one. She had read my mind. His house looked like it belonged on the set of Dynasty. My throat felt dry.
“What are we celebrating?” Blair asked Reid, trying to keep the moment light and perhaps to distract me from hyperventilating. I could see people continue to stare at us through the glass. I would have to go out there. I scanned the crowd for a pocket of our friends.
“To making the moments of each day count,” Reid proposed. We tapped glasses and I took a sip, hoping to chase away the cotton in my mouth. I couldn’t let my nerves get the better of me. Perhaps most unsettling was the house seemed familiar. I didn’t like it when the feeling of déjà vu crept up my spine. Even though it happened to me all the time, it always chilled me to the bone.
Someone was yelling for Reid. He excused himself and Blair and I walked out onto the crowded patio. There were tables full of food and the smell of grilled burgers was in the air.
I looked across the blue heron statues in the middle of a large fishpond. In the garden I saw Cheryl waving us over to a pedestal that stood alone in the grass. I was relieved to have some place to go.
“You take Latin, right, Whitney?” Cheryl asked, showing us her find. On top of the pedestal was a bronze, weathered sundial with Roman numerals. I was perplexed that Cheryl would be so interested in figuring out the time. Personally, I never wore a watch. I found I never needed one.
“Yeah, why?” I questioned, as I looked more closely at the sundial. I ran my finger over the raised letters and thought I could almost detect a ticking from the stone. I looked around at my friends but they didn’t seem to notice anything.
“What does this say? Barbara and I can’t figure it out,” Cheryl asked me. She pointed to the Latin on the dial. It was not very difficult: tempus ad lucem ducit veritatem.
“It says, ‘time brings truth to light,’” I answered. It was a clever little saying. Seizing or waiting for the correct moment was part of my intuitive nature. Even though I never wore a watch, I respected timing. My martial arts instructor was always saying timing was the difference between life and death. Reid’s casual toast came back to me. It didn’t seem so casual to me now.
“Whitney, is it true Reid went to your house to get you?” asked Melissa, who had walked over to us with a glass of punch in her hand. “’Cause if it’s not, someone should tell Liz before she storms out of here.”
“Oh brother,” I exhaled. “I didn’t ask him to come get me.” I saw Liz scowling at me across the lawn. Liz was surrounded in a circl
e of whispering friends; they all looked the same in their designer jeans and big hair.
As I stood at the sundial and scanned the patio, Reid caught my eye. His slow smile made me wonder if I had turned from a fox into a lamb. He looked too hungry for my liking.
By the end of the night, only a few people were left. I was talking with friends when Reid found me and dragged me to dance after someone put on “Dixieland Delight.” It became a sloppy square dance and I spent most of the song laughing as he picked me up and spun me around as the music went faster and faster. It was blurry, easy, and fun. I felt carefree and safe at the same time. It was a feeling I was not used to, and I thought all the songs about the world ending and impending nuclear war were making me too jaded. I wanted to feel like Reid made me feel more often.
The head rush felt legitimate when he put me down. I held onto him to steady myself and not wobble. Oh God, I realized. The vision I had before I came down with the fever came back to me. It had just come true.
He was holding onto my arm. We were locked in place and he leaned toward me like he was going to kiss me. I felt a surge of panic as my flight response soared. Instead of kissing me, he said hello to Blair.
Blair arrived at my side, pretending to be obtuse but uncomfortable about it. Earlier, I had asked her to stick to me like glue, no matter what.
“You are crazy, you know that, right?” she had pressed. “Not to mention, he is going to hate me.”
“This makes things less complicated,” I answered. “Besides, he can’t hate my best friend. You are part of the package deal. I’m sure Reid has already figured that out.”
My wingman was holding steady, and Reid knew it. I could hear her cringing in my mind. She averted her eyes like she was intruding on a private moment. Reid smiled at my reluctant bodyguard and asked if he could get us anything.
“I think we’re good,” said Blair, linking my arm and making us look like Siamese twins. She was laying it on thick now and making light of the scenario. It was more than obvious that she was only there at my request.
“How about a tour of the house?” Reid magnanimously asked, steering us toward the glass sliding doors of the courtyard. I had the distinct impression he had something to show me.
“Hey, Reid! The grill tank’s out!” The moment was interrupted by a shout from one of his lacrosse teammates. Reid looked in the direction of the voice. It was dark, and we couldn’t see who called.
“I’ll be right back,” Reid said as he went to switch it out. Blair and I drifted back in the direction of the party.
Kevin Flaherty came out from behind a tall, sculpted hedge. He pulled his keys out of his ripped Levi’s jeans pocket as he ambled up to us. I could hear the keys jingle as he twirled them on a finger. Kevin was a good-looking guy with white-blond hair and light blue eyes that seemed to refract light like water in the Caribbean. He was not as tall as Reid but was equally athletic. In addition to lacrosse, he also played football.
“Ladies, do you need a ride?” he asked. I caught him looking at Blair and now it was my turn to feel like a third wheel. I didn’t want to ruin an opportunity for her to ride home with Kevin and I was bound by my own rule not to leave myself with Reid. I was especially not going into his house by myself. There was only one choice: I had to leave. “I live over by Ruth Ogilvy. You guys are on my way home.”
“Sure,” I piped up. “It’s only one stop. I’m spending the night at Blair’s.” I was almost relieved to have an escape without having to let Reid know I was leaving. He would figure it out soon enough and I didn’t want to deal with an awkward goodbye. I would have to decide if I would kiss him goodnight—and I had not been able to reach a conclusion.
“That would be great,” Blair readily agreed. “I think we’ve had enough team bonding.”
“OK, let’s go.” Kevin led the way. I noticed how his Timberland shoes were worn flat from his languid walk and his windbreaker whispered as he moved. His seats in his new Mustang were reclined all the way back and he had left the sunroof open. He turned on the car and “Bad Company” blasted from the stereo. I had to toss a bottle of Listerine and a sweatshirt out of the way to make room for my feet. Blair’s house was not too far away and I hoped I wouldn’t go deaf before we arrived.
Late the next afternoon, I finally returned to my own house jazzed up on Diet Coke. There was a large bouquet of purple irises at the front door. I loved irises in the spring. My name was on the card. I wondered if Reid had made a lucky guess or if the florist suggested it. I hadn’t told him anything about my taste in flowers. I was complimented but not overwhelmed. It seemed too textbook. I was back to wondering if he really liked ME—or the challenge of me?
I picked up the white card with my name on it that was wedged into the plastic florist fork: Since you’re not good with goodbyes, call me to say hello—Reid.
I was pleased more with his humorous note than the decadent flowers. Once again, he caught my interest. I looked up his number in the school directory to thank him.
“Well, well, well. It’s Cinderella,” he started. “I should have kept a better eye on the time. I didn’t notice the glass shoes you were wearing…”
“You were busy entertaining your guests,” I interrupted. I had to stifle the laughter bubbling in my throat as I lied to him. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Disturb me? Wasn’t I about to give you a tour? I came back and you had disappeared! How did you get home?” he asked. I was laughing out loud now. Of course, that was true but it was funny to hear him so exasperated.
“Kevin Flaherty offered to give Blair and me a ride. We figured he was on his way out and then we would not have to bother anyone to come get us,” I justified. It was a shaky argument but I wasn’t afraid to try it.
“Does my car look remotely like a pumpkin?” he chided. “I fully intended on driving you home.”
“Wow, you know your fairy tales. I’m impressed!” I laughed. “Living with my dad isn’t THAT bad, though. He is just never around. But, the reason I was calling was to thank you for the flowers; they are spectacular. Thank you.” I felt suddenly shy. Reid was making it hard to deny he DID like me. I was glad he hadn’t sent roses. That would have been even more awkward.
“Can we make a deal? I’ll send you flowers for no reason at all, if you stop disappearing on me. I’m sure it didn’t occur to you but I was a little worried,” Reid leveraged. His concern for me was unexpected. I had to acknowledge that he had a point.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea you would be worried…I’m not used to that. Not that it is an excuse. I’ll let you know next time,” I floundered. I had not even considered that possibility. My dad had encouraged my independence and self-reliance after my mom died. He had to travel a lot for his job and I spent my time either on my own or with Blair’s family.
“At least I am glad to know there will be a next time. You do make it hard to guess,” he said wryly. “Well, my house tour rates go up tomorrow, so if you wanted to…”
“So that’s how you pay for the gas in your car! Your friends have to buy tickets to come over. Oh, now I get it. Here I was thinking your parents probably gave you a limitless ATM card,” I said, cutting him off and righting myself into my usual comfort zone of repartee. I could hear Reid chuckling.
“What’s wrong with an ATM card?” he asked defensively through his laughter. I knew it.
“What can I say? I’m principled. I make money the old-fashioned way. I earn it.” I parroted the Smith Barney commercial back to him in a falsely superior tone. “I don’t have any extra time for frivolous house tours today. I have a ton of homework. I had planned on getting some done yesterday, but I found myself unexpectedly square dancing—if you could call it that,” I laughed, remembering it. I didn’t want to falter by being too eager—those scenarios never seemed to work out. It slowly dawned on me that I would not be so concerned about the longevity of our relationship if I didn’t want one in the first place. It was the second time I wa
s blindsided in the last sixty seconds.
As a result of my revelation, I was more self-conscious the next time we were alone together. When the black BMW slowed down to offer me a ride back from my extra laps, I felt my face heating up. My ponytail was shaking loose and I was wearing tattered red Umbros with men’s plaid boxer shorts underneath to make an easy patch for the holes. I could feel the sweat from my run dripping off my face and down my neck.
At least this time I was only toting my Sony Walkman and running to the fast pace of New Order. I thought maybe I would make it back to school before he passed me. Nope. I should have known better than to compete with German engineering.
“Hey, Whitney, want a ride?” He grinned. He looked more rugged than usual since he had just left lacrosse practice. His Champion athletic shorts and torn practice jersey showed off his defined muscles. He looked so hot I had to catch my breath. I was glad running gave me a good excuse.
“No thanks. I’m fine,” I said, not sure if I was blowing him off because of pride or embarrassment.
“Oh, come on, Whitney,” Reid cajoled. His voice rolled like a massage over my tired shoulders. “You and the car both endured my generosity last week. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like you could use a lift.”
A car pulled up behind Reid as he trolled alongside me. I was still on the running path but Reid was blocking the road. Reid saw it in his rearview mirror but shrugged his shoulders.
“Now you’re causing a traffic jam,” he jibed. His smile was convincing but firm. “It’s either get in or all these people are going to be late because I am not speeding up.”
I weighed the situation and decided he would make good on what he just said. “You are so difficult!” I said, stalking off the path and climbing in the car.
“Takes one to know one,” he said, and punched the gas. I felt myself press firmly into the back of the seat with the acceleration. I tried not to laugh.
“Are you going to appear every Wednesday?” I asked with pretend annoyance. I gathered up my loose hair and redid my ponytail.
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