I walked into the bathroom connected to my room. It was painted bright yellow and blinded my bleary eyes. The shower curtain reminded me of a Gunne Sax dress and had a lot of ruffles to fumble through before you could find the faucet. After being briefly thwarted, I turned on the shower and hoped for another day to spend on the river.
Everyone knew I was now “officially” with Reid even though I had only told Blair, Ruth, and Shannon. It was not hard to figure out who was broadcasting the information to the school. Shannon was not known for her quiet nature. She reminded me of Grease’s punchy Rizzo, with porcelain skin, green eyes, and a vicious, salty mouth. Shannon vamped it up with a pin-up girl style. She was not afraid to change her hair color and embrace her cleavage. Shannon’s best quality was that she lived for the moment and was always pushing Ruth and me to relax and have fun. Shannon was a decent student, but her art, not her grades, defined her.
Shannon loved Reid, or at least the idea of Reid. I think she projected me into a John Hughes film and cast Reid as Jake Ryan. Reid had the same outward image except he was not the pensive, stock character of Sixteen Candles. He was a dynamic force.
Ruth, Shannon’s opposite, was a stoic and academic rock. Ruth took advanced courses and was honor roll relentless. She always seemed to take on too much but was driven by accomplishment. She had a shy and quiet personality with a penchant for alternative music and moral causes. She was elegantly tall with a Julia Roberts smile and aquamarine eyes. Ruth had a constant stream of admirers and she always felt guilty for rebuffing most of them.
Reid did not escape Ruth’s view of someone not measuring up to snuff. She thought his bold personality was smothering and that he was only out for himself. In short, Ruth thought Reid lacked substance. She kept asking me if I was sure I knew what I was doing because she was afraid I was going to get hurt.
I valued Ruth’s opinion and considered what she said. I had to disagree. Reid was more complicated than he seemed. He used his flashy image to hide in plain sight. I also didn’t think Reid could fake the connection between us. Despite feeling like I was in a strange girlfriend boot camp, I had never been happier.
The phone rang and I was still thinking about the fact that dating Reid really had been like being in boot camp. It was Reid.
“Oh good, it’s you. I hope you are finally calling to ask me out on a real date,” I teased.
“What do you mean? We’ve been on plenty of dates,” Reid answered, stumped.
“So Camp Lejune is not our next destination? I figured since I have been taken hostage to a barbeque, was thrown off a boat and had proven my shot accuracy that Parris Island was next on your list.”
“That is definitely not fair,” Reid argued through his laughter. “None of those dates ended like I had planned! A lot of that was circumstantial. I think you are a magnet for trouble…All right. I guess I will show you my groomed and charming side. Do you have some free time right now or is your Saturday morning already booked?”
“I think I have a clear calendar at the moment,” I said with a smile.
“How about a game of tennis at the CCC? It is quite civilized there. They won’t let you in without proper tennis attire…”
“Oh, you mean you’d be embarrassed to see me in my ripped Umbros at Capitol Country Club or are you just trying to see me in a short skirt?” I served back at him. I was already considering how I would beat him since it would not be with strength or accuracy. I would need distraction.
“Whatever works,” he said, chuckling. “Just remember, I play to win.”
“Then you are in trouble if you are against me,” I tossed back, “because so do I.” The words tumbled out of my mouth. It was hard to resist talking back when my competitive dander got up.
“We aren’t even on the court, and you are already sassing me,” he said incredulously. I could hear the smile in his voice. “Call Blair and I’ll see you in twenty minutes. We’ll see if you can sass me when the game is over.” The gauntlet had been thrown down.
“Sorry you can’t handle it. I will save it for the court. I’ll be ready in nineteen.” I hung up the phone and called Blair. I was glad it was doubles and that he had thought to include Blair. It reminded me my opponent was smart.
“Grab your tennis clothes, we are going to play with Reid,” I said hurriedly as I ransacked my dresser trying to find my white tennis skirt. The clinking of the hardware jangling as I slammed one drawer closed and pulled another one open put me on edge. Relief flooded me once I grabbed the white polyester fabric.
“Thanks for the notice,” Blair replied, serene as always. “When is he coming?”
“You have about eighteen minutes,” I said, and hung up the phone. I changed but still had to find my visor, racquet, and lipstick. I never left my house without lipstick.
When Reid arrived, I sashayed out in my white tennis skirt, white Tretorns, and white collared tennis shirt. My white visor helped to hold my high ponytail. I hammed it up as I felt his eyes on me. I had my racquet over my shoulder and swung a bottle of Evian from my hand.
Reid gave me a low whistle from the car. I smirked. I knew I looked good and that he was rapidly second-guessing if I had ever played tennis before.
“I should have thought of this long ago,” he said as I climbed into the front seat.
“Just remember, I play to win.” I crossed my toned legs. I was working to distract him and enjoyed how easy it was. Reid looked sharp in his white shirt and long tennis shorts. He had his Stussy baseball cap on backwards and his Oakleys in place.
We pulled up to the Delaneys’ brick colonial with the forest green shutters and matching front door. White, fragrant roses burst through the intricate wrought iron fence. A large magnolia tree full of its splendid, cup-shaped blossoms filled the yard with sweet fragrance. The continuous sweep of dainty gardenias, snowball viburnums, and white azaleas kept the monochromatic-themed garden brilliantly crisp. Everything looked fresh and pristine against the neatly trimmed lawn.
Blair emerged from the house and I noticed she was also dressed to perfection in all white.
“Not bad for such short notice,” I kidded her as she climbed into the car. She gave me her tight-lipped smile, which said a lot without her saying anything. I could hear her voice in my head thinking “here we go again.”
“Yeah, lucky for you I was able to clear my busy agenda, Wimbledon,” she said, looking at my ensemble. Even the designer logos on my clothes were white. I had not an ounce of color on me.
“Fake it ’til ya make it,” I scoffed as I adjusted the radio. Blair’s quiet neighborhood still seemed asleep. Most of the time, the sidewalks were crowded with kids riding bikes and people walking dogs.
“Who is my partner?” Blair asked Reid as the wind from the convertible whipped through her curls.
“Patrick O’Riordan, do you know him?” Reid asked, glancing up into the rear-view mirror to answer her question. Blair nodded with indifference even though she knew all about Patrick.
Patrick was usually wearing worn-out international soccer T-shirts, black Levi’s that were slightly too big, and torn-up indoor soccer shoes. He was a computer genius and spent hours working on his computer, which added to his overall disheveled appearance. In the summer, he gave a good beach bum impression since in spite of his blond hair and blue eyes he always had a deep tan.
Patrick’s disposition added to his affable charm. He had two older sisters who made sure he was anything but spoiled and he was kind and easygoing. He had a dry, sarcastic sense of humor like Blair and they had similar interests.
Blair shot me a glance. She and Patrick had been in history class together and there had always been something there. Nothing came of it since Blair had cooled things off after our friend Ashley declared Patrick the love of her life. That was before Ashley started dating the current love of her life, Ryan. Ever since, Blair had regretted missing her chance with Patrick for Ashley’s fickle heart.
We sped down the parkway and
turned up the hill to the Capitol Country Club. The greens of the golf course rolled by until we turned in the palatial columned entrance. The parking lot was full of luxury cars. Reid’s black BMW blended in. Old Town and the Potomac could be seen in the distance. The familiar thunk of tennis balls being volleyed filled the air as we walked toward the courts. I saw Patrick already practicing on the wall. He had a basket of balls and was practicing his serve, which was like lightning.
“There’s Patrick,” said Blair. “I’ll go tell him we are here. What court are we on?”
“Court seven, down by the woods. Hopefully, we will get some shade,” Reid answered. I also liked that court. Not a lot of people were walking by to distract from the game and usually the other side was vacant. It was private.
Reid grabbed his racquet from behind his seat and said, “Come on, Whitney, you can warm me up.”
“You mean YOU can warm ME up?” I asked. Reid laughed.
We walked onto the court and started to volley. I was invigorated every time the ball hit the sweet spot on my racquet and I returned Reid’s serve. My legs were in motion before the ball landed and Reid started to amp up his power.
“You think you can only beat me with brute force?” I goaded him as he hit another powerful serve that I hustled to return. I couldn’t match his strength so I focused on not making an error. My eyes were only on the felted yellow ball and I waited for an opportunity.
We were locked into a fierce game and both of us wanted to win. As we were changing sides, I reached for my water and took a drink, letting some of it spill down my neck to cool me off. I could feel Reid’s eyes on me. It was time to strike.
I waited until I had the serve advantage to enhance my odds. I grabbed the bottom hem of my shirt to wipe the sweat off my face. The small breeze cooled off my bare stomach. I could feel Reid’s eyes locked on me. I seized the moment and served. He had not moved and was still staring at me. I had aced him and won. Reid was begrudgingly astonished—at himself more than me.
“Way to go, Whitney,” yelled Patrick from the sideline. I was concentrating so hard on the match, I hadn’t even realized he and Blair were there.
Reid walked up from the baseline to meet me at the net. “I think that was an unfair advantage,” Reid jokingly protested to our audience.
“I told you, I play to win,” I casually reminded him. I stretched out my hand to shake his. I didn’t add that it was a trick I had learned from him. He always distracted me with his presence. I was figuring out I could do the same in return.
“Frankly, I think I won this set,” Reid said suggestively as he grabbed my outstretched hand, pulled me to him, and kissed me.
“You really turned it on, Whitney,” Patrick congratulated me as Reid and I walked over to them.
“Yeah, but can she turn it off?” Blair joked, and everyone laughed.
“I’ll have to remember next time I play Reid to flash him my abs. I think you totally stunned him with that maneuver,” Patrick joked.
“Whatever works,” I said with a grin. I enjoyed using the same line Reid had said to me against him. Reid shook his head at my relentlessness and gave me a good-natured swat on my backside with his racquet.
After finishing a game of doubles, I proposed we all get some lunch. Blair seconded the idea but added she would like to get lunch and take it out on the boat. She pointed out the marina was only a few minutes away and we could get subs from my favorite Greek diner, Primo’s.
“Whitney, do you want to go in to the grill? I’m sure you will find it appropriately stuffy and boring,” Reid offered. Reid looked at Blair and Patrick to explain. “Whitney’s been complaining that my recent dates have been too thrilling. Does chicken salad on a china plate seem safe enough?”
I laughed. I didn’t want to go into the club. There was an excellent chance I would run into my grandparents, who played golf there every day, or someone else I knew. I had never seen Reid at the club before, but after my mandatory golf lessons were over, I didn’t come down as much.
“I’d really like some Primo’s. It’s a great Greek diner and my favorite place for lunch. We could get takeout and be on the boat in half an hour.”
“Sounds good to me,” Patrick said genially. “I don’t have to work today.”
“OK. Let’s go,” Reid said. “Patrick, do you want to leave your car here…?”
“No, I’ll ride with Patrick. Otherwise, it is a logistical hassle,” Blair offered. I didn’t look at Blair. I was afraid to give anything away. I thought I saw the corner of Reid’s mouth twitch with a glimmer of a smile but couldn’t be sure.
Chapter Seven: Cachet
I did not like being told what to do and I wanted to hold onto my choices while they were still mine. Following directions from the CIA director was not going to be a good fit for me. But I had to accept I might not have a career choice.
I believed everything cost something, and that was why I continued to decline Reid’s offer to drive me to school. Accepting Reid’s invitation was to decline my ride with Eileen and Blair. His offer was generous but too expensive, one that could potentially create a rift between my friends or hurt my GPA when Reid drove past school and on to Denny’s for breakfast. I wanted to maintain my friendships, my grades, and my autonomy.
It was second nature for me to understand all choices had implications and repercussions. It helped that my father worked in government intelligence. Awareness of my actions was ingrained.
Maintaining my shrewdness with Reid was not easy since he was not predictable. It kept me on my toes. He made quick decisions and immediately acted on them. My choreographed plans were often thwarted when he would unexpectedly appear, much to my flummoxed delight. Usually I couldn’t repress the smile from my face, and the spark of his eyes was enticing. An extra, stolen moment was contraband I didn’t mind taking from him.
However, it wasn’t so delightful the day he interrupted Sean Haggerty talking to me at my locker. Sean and I had been friends since middle school. I always thought of him as the friendly kid from my eighth grade math class. He was boy-next-door attractive with sandy blond hair and Aegean green eyes. He was a muscular wrestler for the varsity team. Our locker banks were alphabetical, and with my last name of Forbes, I always seemed to be assigned a locker near Sean Haggerty.
“What’s your address again, Whit?” Sean asked. He had his notebook pushed against the metal door of my locker with a pen in his hand. I saw him jotting it down as I recited it aloud and switched over my books for my classes after lunch. The smell of his Polo cologne wafted in my direction. It burned my nose.
“What do you need it for?” I asked, perplexed. I looked up and saw his smiling face hovering over me.
“To send you a postcard from Sun Valley,” Sean said, as if I should have known.
“That’s thoughtful of you, Sean,” Reid’s deep voice rumbled from behind me. My stomach tightened. Reid picked up my backpack for me. His quick and smooth motion signaled it was time for me to go. Sean looked like he wanted to explain himself, but Reid touched my elbow and said, “I can walk you to English.”
“See you guys,” Sean stammered. I stood up and Reid slammed my locker door with a little more force than was necessary. He had made his point to Sean that his attention was not appreciated. I felt uncomfortable, as if I were more of a possession yanked away by Reid than an intelligent girl who could speak for herself. I walked quickly to keep up with Reid’s long strides. My head blurred with conflicting emotions. I noticed the firm set of Reid’s jaw and thought I was the one who should be annoyed. I didn’t like being escorted out of a harmless conversation. And I really didn’t like Reid’s implication I was incompetent.
“You know, he IS my friend,” I started. I thought I sounded trivial but I could see Reid was irked. His hand gripped my backpack.
“I know. You have a lot of friends, Whitney. Do you see me asking for any of my girl friends for their addresses to send them a postcard? He is looking for any opport
unity to remind you he is around. Trust me on that one,” he quietly huffed as we walked to my class. He moved through the crowded halls with ease, pulling me close to him when a thick rush of bodies intersected. It was easier for him to figure out the best side to be on with his height; I bristled at his advantage and the feeling he was controlling me.
“You can’t be jealous, right?” I asked with disapproval. Even if he didn’t like the conversation, I didn’t want him to dissuade me from talking to one of my friends. My parents had not governed me and a boyfriend would never rule me.
“I’m not jealous of that punk Sean but I am frustrated that you don’t seem to fully realize some guys aren’t just being friendly,” Reid said, agitated. “They are only out for themselves. You may think you are only being nice but you give them too much hope.”
“It is called being polite! Sean knows I have a boyfriend. Why don’t YOU just care about the way I look at YOU?” I spun the argument as we slowed down and arrived at my class. A reluctant smile emerged onto his face as I reduced the argument to irrelevant. I didn’t add that Sean was harmless. I took my backpack from his hand and felt the spark of his touch.
I was disappointed I wouldn’t see him the rest of the school day, so I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him goodbye. The tension faded as I was almost eclipsed by another head rush. I held on to Reid for a second as I steadied myself and then walked into my class in a daze. The feeling left me briefly debilitated. I didn’t like it.
“I’ll call you when you get home so we can go out on the boat,” he said as I walked to my seat. I nodded. I was starting to wonder if something was wrong with me. These head rush sensations had never happened to me so frequently before or so often around the same person. “Feel free to invite Ruth and Shannon. Oh, and for the record, those are two friends of yours who can send you as many postcards as you like. I don’t think I would protest their intentions…especially since they also happen to be girls…”
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