by Sally Henson
“How can guys eat so much? It kind of makes me sick to watch them.” My nose and lip curl up in disgust.
“I know.” Tobi scoffs and takes a bite of her yogurt. “They can eat whatever they want and don't have an ounce of fat on them.”
“Ha!” Haylee throws her head back. “Cameron eats like an animal. Five bucks says he asks me if I'm going to finish my sandwich.” She holds her hand out as if she’s going to collect our money.
I shake my head and put my hands up as I lean back. “No way.”
Tobi tilts her head and giggles. “I believe you.”
“Okay. I bet he asks for my sandwich, your fries—” Haylee nods to Tobi, “And your roll.” She points to the roll on my plate.
Tobi grins. “You're on!” They both reach over and shake on it.
I take a bite of my salad and shake my head. “I'm out.” There’s no way I'm betting. I lose every time.
Stacey and her minions slowly walk past our table. She snoops at what we’re eating as she walks by. Haylee bugs her eyes out at me and Tobi, nodding behind us. We chance a glance behind us and see they’re sitting at the table next to us. My lip twitches, knowing she sat there to glean as much of our conversation as she can. Great.
Cameron's already eating before he even takes a seat at the table. We all stare at him as he sits down. He's too busy eating to even notice. Haylee rolls her eyes at us. Our bodies shake with silent laughter.
It’s not only Haylee’s eye roll that makes me laugh, but seeing the two of them side by side. She’s this cute pint-sized thing with small features, shy and quiet. Well, she’s shy and quiet around other people. Cam is pretty much the opposite. Big and brawny, loud and in your face with hard, slightly chiseled features. He’s at the point where boys start looking older, like a man, I guess. Cameron acts like he’s a twelve-year-old on steroids, though.
“Are we getting together Friday?” Haylee pops a fry in her mouth. “I haven't seen Lane for weeks.”
“That's because he's been otherwise occupied.” Cam talks with a mouthful of cheeseburger. He gulps down a drink of his water and wriggles his eyebrows at me.
I gasp at what he said, and now a piece of my salad is stuck in my windpipe. Cam's laughing out loud at me because I’m coughing. Of course, he's making a spectacle, drawing everyone's attention to us. And Stacey’s sitting right behind us.
Tobi hits me on my back to help me along.
I cough and squeak out an explanation. “Went down the wrong pipe.” I take a sip of my water and glance sideways at Tobi. It's obvious Cameron knows something. A stream of heat creeps up from the center of my chest.
Cam leans across the table; Haylee and Tobi follow his lead. He growls playfully at me. “Certain members of this group have failed to uphold part of its sacred pact.” He gets a serious look on his face and lowers his tone. “Rule number three has been compromised.” He leans back, continuing to eat, all the while smirking at me.
Cameron drives me crazy! I squint my eyes and clench my teeth together. Haylee's expression leads me to believe she doesn't know about me and Lane. I’m not sure there’s really anything to be worried about anyway. I haven’t talked to Lane since Monday, and I sort of hung up on him. I started freaking out for some reason when my dad called for me to come inside for dinner. He was walking around the corner of the house and I hung up.
Tobi comes to my rescue. “Drop it, Cam. We all know rule number three is no longer effective. Get over yourselves.” She sighs a long, heavy breath. “Rule number three has been thrown out the window since summer. There. It's out in the open. Big deal,” she huffs and swigs her bottle of water.
I put a finger to my lips, scowling at them. “Shh.” Nonchalantly, I jerk my head back reminding them who is sitting directly behind us. I’m sure if Stacey heard any of that, she’ll have the word out before we even leave the lunchroom.
Cam leans over the table again. All three of us girls follow his lead and lean in too. “You already heard?” Cam locks eyes with me.
My lungs stop working. I’m frozen in place, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to breathe.
“What are you talking about?” Tobi asks.
He arches his eyebrow. “Frak’s going around telling the guys Lane and Regan are hot and heavy. He said he saw you holding hands during church.”
My personal physician, Dr. Tobi, yells CLEAR as the defibrillator charges and delivers a dose of electric current to my body by way of her bumping my leg under the table. Wake up! Breathe. Think. “Uh, holding hands at church?” Yeah … brilliant words. So convincing and eloquent.
Tobi gives me a crooked smile.
Cam leans back and takes a bite of his burger. “I told him you were too much of a prude to do something like that.” He takes a swig of his water to wash down his food and flashes a challenging smile, waiting for me to toss him a comeback while he takes another bite.
I can’t think of one. Um … “Paul’s just saying that because I wasn’t interested in going out with him.” I hope gossip girl can’t hear us.
“Yeah and you guys gave him a black eye.” Haylee saves my bacon. I can’t think straight right now.
Cameron laughs. “You got that right.”
Tobi puts her arm around me and pulls me against her side. “You know Fork-Tongue’s going to pick that up and run with it.”
My insides bubble with a giggle at Tobi’s not-so-fond name for Stacey. “I know.” The laughter quickly turns into a tightening in my chest at the thought of another round of gossip from Stacey. But at least if people think that’s exactly what it is, gossip, Lane’s and my secret is safe.
It’s possible there is no secret to keep. I’m not sure when I’ll find that out. Ugh, I feel like I’ve eaten a ton of concrete pudding and it’s hardening in my stomach. Lane might have decided I’m too young by now. Besides, Johanna’s there. They only broke up because she moved.
“Are you going to eat that?” Cameron points to Haylee’s half-eaten chicken sandwich on her plate. She shakes her head no and glances to Tobi, fighting to keep her lips from turning up on the corners at her earlier prediction.
Cameron has moved on, and the idea of Lane and me holding hands vanishes into thin air. Relief loosens the tightness in my chest. It’s only Wednesday. Three days since Lane’s been gone and two days since I’ve talked to him. This is the longest week ever.
I push my tray toward Cameron.
He reaches for my untouched roll without looking up. “Thanks.”
Paul Frak eyes me, approaching our table with a tray full of food. Haylee leans over the table toward me. She whispers, “I think Lane was seriously crushing on you this summer.”
Paul winks at me as he passes by. I close my eyes and let my shoulders drop, relieved he didn’t stop and try to sit with us or say something stupid.
“Uh, oh. Paul’s sitting with Stacey.” Haylee’s eyes flash wide and then narrow as her lips purse in disgust.
Stacey cackles from the table behind me. “As if.”
Ugh. I pick at my salad with my fork. This secret stuff is giving me indigestion.
“Are you going to eat that?” Cameron asks Tobi.
I turn to Tobi. “Pay up!”
Haylee cackles. “Yes!” She swings her hand out over the table in front of Tobi, waiting for her money.
The guilt for being a lousy friend dissipates with the change in the mood at our table.
Tobi shakes her head and reaches into her pocket to pull out a five-dollar bill. Cameron looks confused, but that doesn't keep him from finishing Tobi's food. “You are such a pig, Cameron.” Tobi slaps the money in Haylee's waiting hand.
The bell rings; lunch period is over. Cameron gathers our trays and stacks them in the return window for us. The girls and I cross the room to the hallway.
“So, Friday?” Haylee reaches her arm up on my shoulder. Tobi leans on my other shoulder.
“How about a movie?” Cameron walks behind us.
Haylee glances at me
. “Yeah, that new British spy movie’s out.”
“Tobi? Regan?” Cameron asks.
I tilt my head. “Mmm, I don’t know.”
“I can’t.” Tobi leans heavy on me. “Dad and I are going to Indiana Saturday morning. Early. Too early.”
I wrap my arm around her waist to support her. “I’ll have to talk to my parents. We have practice after school Friday, though.”
“Saturday?” Cameron stretches his arms wide, leaning his weight on us. He pokes his head between mine and Haylee’s.
My knees start to buckle. “Cam.” He about knocks us over. I was already supporting Tobi’s weight.
He pulls us all together with sheer brawn.
I’m able to grunt out, “Let go, you big oaf.’
He laughs. “Weaklings.”
Haylee elbows him in the gut, catching him off guard. She’s really good at that.
He coughs and sputters, releasing his hold on us.
The bell rings and I laugh and joke with my friends down the hall to our lockers, as if I’m absolutely not keeping a secret from them.
11
Regan
Practice was from the pit of Hades today. Coach and Susanna rewarded us for losing last night. At least we have the weekend off, and I’ll get to see Lane in less than an hour. He texted us on our way home from the game last night. It was as if our conversation about his ex never happened, as if she didn’t exist. He promised me he’d come home every weekend. Eastern Illinois University’s less than two hours away. I would never ask him to give up college life to come home and see me, but I’m relieved he wants to.
The whole volleyball team rushes like molasses out of the gym. Tobi and I cross the school parking lot to her car accompanied by the song of the cicadas. Every muscle in my legs and arms is weeping in pain. We toss our bags in her backseat and carefully get in, groaning as we sit down. My butt hurts from the squats, not to mention the lunges.
Tobi starts the car. Even the movement of fastening our seat-belts has us wincing and moaning in pain.
I roll my head on the back of the seat toward her. She does the same thing. I wonder if I look as pitiful as she does.
Her limp fingers press two buttons above the gear shifter— the heated seats.
“What are you doing?” It’s August, not December, and my sweat-soaked shirt proves I don’t need the heated seats on.
“Trust me.”
The seat begins to heat up under my legs and against my back. It penetrates through my wet clothes and skin. The warmth feels good against my achy muscles.
I sigh in understanding and appreciation for the heat. “I think Coach was trying to kill us.”
Tobi moans in agreement. She turns on some music and we drive to her house without conversation. She parks in her driveway and we sit there like corpses. Neither of us moves as we listen to the rest of the song playing from her stereo.
“Look.” She nods to the rear-view-mirror between us.
I turn slowly to look out the back window. It’s Lane. A reflexive smile curves my lips. I have no control over it. A little ball of energy grows and hums inside me at the sight of him. Hmm, I feel better already.
We crawl out of the car and get our things. He’s looking down, probably at his phone. His head pops when he hears the car doors shut. His lips stretch wide as he makes eye contact with me. When Lane steps out of the truck, his smile grows even wider. He’s happy to see me, to see us. Tiny flutters of butterfly wings dance in my stomach. Goosebumps rise on my heated, sweaty skin from the slight breeze. The air is filled with the bouquet of maturing field corn mixed with Lane’s cologne.
I’ve known him practically my whole life and now he does this to me? I’m not complaining, I like it. If I think about that part too much, it weirds me out, so I push that out of my mind. Right now, I’m going to think about how much I missed him and I may even be bold enough to kiss him in front of Tobi when I get close enough to his lips.
“Ladies.” He checks us out and scowls. “You look like you’ve been to boot camp.”
Tobi’s shoulders droop and she can barely keep upright. “I feel like someone beat the crap out of me. I’m going to stretch and take a hot shower and stretch again.” She turns and drags herself to her house.
“Practice was torture.” I stand there waiting for him.
Lane starts to hug me but stops. “You’re all sweaty.” He pulls back, his nose and face all scrunched up.
I twist my lips off to the side. That’s not the response I was hoping for.
Lane lifts my bag off my shoulder and slides his fingers into mine. His wicked grin sends a thrill of anticipation down my spine.
We slowly make our way down the stairs, into the Bridlow’s finished basement. I stretch with Tobi. Lane kicks back on the sofa and pretends to watch TV. Every time I look his way, I catch him looking at me. He tries to hide a grin, but his mouth pulls up on his left side when he averts his eyes back to the TV, giving himself away. Normally Tobi would fill the air with words and conversation, but we’re both trying to recoup our energy.
She pulls herself up from the floor, stands, and stretches her neck from side to side. “I’m going to shower.” She treks up the stairs.
When I get up off the floor, my shoulders droop. “I’m still sore.” I say it out loud, but meant it as a complaint to myself.
Lane walks up to me and kisses me on the cheek. “Go shower. Tonight will disappear before we know it.” He’s right. It always does. I snatch my bag off the floor and head into the bathroom.
It feels weird showering with Lane in the next room. The more I think about it, the faster I wash. Time does go by too fast, and I don’t want to waste it standing under the hot water too long.
When I open the door, steam rolls out around me. I’m wearing my jean capris and a T-shirt. My hair’s still wet, but it’s combed, and my breath is minty fresh.
“Did Mr. Bridlow turn that bathroom into a sauna?” Lane gets up from the dark blue sofa and steps into the bathroom to check it out.
I poke him in the side. “I needed that hot shower. My shoulders are still a little tight, but I feel better.”
“Come over here.” He sits on the sofa. “Sit on the floor in front of me, I’ll rub your shoulders.” I do as he says because I need it. I pull my hair over the top of my head and sort of braid it forward so it stays out of his way. He works his magic, and I moan and groan at the pain.
“That’s better.” He’s done such a good job, I feel like a limp noodle. Lane doesn’t stop kneading my muscles, unwilling to break our connection, letting his fingers do the talking.
Mrs. Bridlow yells down the stairs to us. “Supper’s about ready.”
Lane stops. I stand and sigh, still facing away from him, pulling out the braid and combing through it with my fingers. “Thank you.”
He grabs my wrist and pulls me down beside him on the sofa. I wasn’t expecting that. He leans close to me and presses his forehead to mine. My heart picks up speed, skipping over a beat or two. He has that look in his eyes.
“It’s been a whole week since I’ve seen you.” Lane’s nose brushes against mine in a butterfly kiss. His voice drops, as he says the words, “Kiss me already.”
A smile stretches across my face. After a week of exposure to the campus life of grown women and Johanna, Lane still wants to be more than friends. I lean closer and kiss his deliciously soft lips that are right in front of me. Pure delight pulses through me with the sensation of our lips moving together. Kissing him is so ... mmm ... perfect.
We pull away and he smiles contentedly.
My heart doesn’t slow down. The prickles of electricity continue to dance on my skin. I can’t believe how much I like kissing him.
“That’s better.” He closes his eyes, pressing his cheek to mine, and inhales the scent of my hair.
I follow the trail of cologne on his skin with my nose until my lips find his again. We get lost in our kiss, in each other. Dang. I’ve been craving hi
s presence since he left.
He pulls away, trailing his fingertips through my hair, down my arm, to my hand, pressing his palm to mine. It feels amazing.
When we’re by ourselves, it feels like we belong together. It’s always felt like that. I never thought of it as a couple kind of thing. I guess I never thought about it any more deeply that it felt right, comfortable. But together like this, with kisses and gazes and hands is more than I’ve ever imagined. “School’s not the same without you. I hate not seeing you or talking to you every day.”
His eyes trail up my arm with his hand, leaving a wake of goosebumps, meeting my gaze. “I got a job today.” He continues to forge trails up and down my arm.
My jaw drops. “What? Why?” I don’t know why, but those words felt like a slap across my face.
He rubs his lips together, dropping his eyes from mine and back to his fingers on my arm. “Dad told me I’m going to have to pay for my own gas and extra stuff at school. I need to work so I can come home and see you.”
My chest hollows and I let my head fall back against the sofa. Am I holding him back? I don’t want to interfere with his grades by his working instead of studying.
Lane leans over me, making eye contact again. “I can see your wheels turning. What are you thinking?”
I blow out a puff of breath. “When are you going to have time for work with classes and assignments?”
“I’ll have plenty of time, especially after I get the schedule and professors down.” He sits up and fiddles with my fingers.
A country music video plays on the television screen, engaging my eyes but not my mind. He had mentioned something about getting a part time job before, but … so soon? “When do you start?”
“They want me to come in Monday at four-thirty.” He chuckles. “It’s a dry cleaner.”
My eyebrows scrunch together. “They’re open at night? Dry cleaners around here close at like six o’clock.”