“Sounds like it makes a lot of sense, actually,” Teddy says, tracking a few water droplets running over her collarbone. He forces himself to stop.
“Nah, you just—you’d just have to know Liz. It doesn’t make sense.”
The only thing that doesn’t make sense is Bennett thinking this doesn’t make sense.
“Bennett,” Teddy says, holding up both his palms like the human embodiment of the scale of justice. He pushes one palm higher and lowers the other as he says, “New York Times–best-selling author…” He raises and lowers his hands again, switching their positions and wiggling his fingers. “And … what does Liz do?”
Bennett’s watching him with an expression that says she doesn’t approve of the direction he’s taking this, but she still answers, “She’s gonna be a freshman in college.”
“Then of course it makes sense,” he says, well aware that he doesn’t actually know anything about the situation. “She has, like, nine million reasons to be jealous of you. And it’s shitty of her to make you feel bad about it instead of just being happy for you.”
Bennett stares at him with another one of those infuriatingly unreadable expressions, even after Teddy turns his scale of justice into jazz hands to try to make her laugh.
“You’re definitely right about the shitty part,” she admits after a moment. “And Liz has definitely pulled some shitty stunts recently, not gonna lie.”
“Yeah? Like what?” he asks, keeping his tone light. He knows Bennett isn’t exactly into first-person monologues, and he doesn’t want to spook her in the middle of one.
“Just … stuff with our friends,” Bennett says, trying to shrug it off. “I moved to the same high school as her in tenth grade, and she’s always had this weird thing about how our friends were her friends first … I don’t know. It’s not that big of a deal, actually.”
All this new information with no supporting details is making Teddy’s imagination run a little wild with possible explanations.
“I mean … is it possible that she’s worried your friends will like you better, so she tries to keep you in check by reminding you that she’s the reason they’re your friends in the first place?”
Bennett cocks her head to the side, studying him.
“Which makes for solid evidence that she’s already jealous of you,” Teddy adds thoughtfully. “So naturally she’d go all bat shit when it turns out you’re this best-selling author with a movie deal happening. Sounds pretty consistent with her … character, I guess.”
Teddy feels so lame dropping acting jargon into this, but it’s the only way he knows how to get his point across.
Bennett’s staring at him again when he looks back over. There’s a tiny crease between her eyebrows, and Teddy isn’t sure what to do about it, so he gives her jazz hands again.
“You’re, like, not a real person. You know that?” she says, shaking her head, and Teddy is stupid proud of the smile he gets at the tail end of it.
“Obviously,” he says. “Such a big deal, remember?”
“God, there’s gotta be a ‘Buzz Lightyear to the Rescue’ joke in here somewhere,” Bennett says, rubbing a hand over her face in a failed attempt to hide how hard she’s trying not to laugh. Some anxiety creeps back into her expression when she pulls her hand away, though.
“What,” Teddy prompts, letting himself drift close enough to give her leg an encouraging nudge underwater.
She nudges him back. “Nothing, it’s just—Liz is gonna freak when she sees you here.”
“Why?” he asks, even though he could take a wild guess.
Bennett hesitates, so Teddy nudges her again.
She tips her head back and smiles up at the sky. “God—okay. I have to give you some backstory here on how Liz is before I make my point, though.”
“All ears,” Teddy says.
“Long story short,” she starts, still not looking at him, “I was kind of dating this guy last fall … who Liz claimed was cheating on me, and, like, only liked me because of all the Parachutes stuff happening. Liz kept telling me, and I just didn’t believe her because, like, it’s Liz. So fast forward to this party I went to over Christmas break … I ended up walking in on him and Liz together, and Liz literally climbed off him and said, ‘See? Told you he was cheating.’”
When Teddy doesn’t say anything, Bennett glances over at him and rolls her eyes. “It’s fine. Seriously—just stupid high school drama.”
Teddy immediately finds words again. “No, no. Don’t do that. Don’t play the high school drama card and let her off easy. What kind of person does that to their friend? To their cousin?” He gapes at her for a second. “I mean, seriously—are you kidding me?”
“It doesn’t even matter anymore, though. The guy was only dating me because of the Parachutes stuff, especially since Liz made it her personal mission that year to tell everyone and their mother about my publishing deal. And he was cheating with more girls than just Liz, so it was better I found out when I did instead of later on, you know?” Bennett says, squinting out over the water. “Anyway, I only brought it up to give you some insight on what you’re in for. Because she’s gonna freak when she sees you.”
“What, because I’m kind of famous?” Teddy says, already irritated by the prospect. And the only reason he bypasses the thing about Liz’s personal mission is because he’s not trying to bombard Bennett with questions about Parachutes. He does make a mental note to come back to it later, though.
“That you’re kind of famous, yeah, and that I didn’t tell her you’re here,” Bennett says. “She’s gonna take it personally and think I’m purposely not telling her things again.”
Awesome. Tonight should be fun.
“So when are they supposed to get here?” he asks.
“Probably soon,” she says, squinting over at him. “Again, I’m not trying to be dramatic about this, but, like, they’re all kind of a lot sometimes. Except Will. You’ll love him. But just a heads-up—he’s … sort of super into acting?”
“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing,” Teddy jokes.
“No, no—not at all. I just don’t want you to, like, feel obligated to talk about anything you don’t want if Will brings it up. Which he will.”
Teddy shrugs. “No worries. I don’t mind talking about it.”
Just as long as it doesn’t turn into the focal point of the evening, which he’s now a little worried that it might. But at least Teddy’s prepared for it when the McGearys do show up half an hour later. What’s the worst that can happen, right?
* * *
Teddy and Bennett are still floating in the lake when the sound of an approaching boat interrupts their conversation.
“Before I forget,” Bennett says, “do you mind not saying anything about the movie around them? It needs to stay on the DL for now.”
“Hey, Bennett!” someone yells before Teddy can answer.
Bennett swims over to the dock’s edge and hoists herself out of the water, then gets to work removing her life jacket. Teddy follows after her, watching as a dark-haired guy at the front of the boat throws her a rope to tie up.
Teddy’s got a bit of a trick shoulder (Little League mishap involving an unsuccessful slide into second base when he was twelve), so he has to swim over to the ladder off the opposite side of the dock to pull himself up. The boat is docked up by the time he’s all the way out (sans diaper life jacket), and the first thing he sees is a large amount of dark brown hair draped over Bennett’s shoulder. Some girl is hugging her.
A very tall girl. In a neon-pink bikini that doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
She pulls back and her eyes immediately flicker to Teddy’s.
Teddy makes his way toward them, grabbing his and Bennett’s towels off their lounge chairs along the way. Bennett gives him a grateful smile when he hands hers to her, then turns to introduce him to everyone.
“Teddy, this is my aunt, Susan, and my uncle, Fletcher,” she says, gesturing first t
oward a couple stepping off the back of the boat. The man holds the woman’s hand as she tries to get her footing—they both look to be around the same age as Bennett’s parents, though Mrs. McGeary is bundled up in a sweater despite it being ninety degrees out, and Mr. McGeary looks like he stole his getup off a Tommy Bahama mannequin.
“Hi there, Mr. and Mrs. McGeary. I’m Teddy Sharpe,” Teddy says, making sure his game face is fully in place. Mrs. and Mr. McGeary return the greeting and shake his hand once they’re safely on the dock, but they don’t spare any time for small talk, continuing straight past and down the walkway. Yikes.
“This is Will,” Bennett continues, gesturing toward the dark-haired guy. Will’s been staring at Teddy in wide-eyed shock for the past minute or so. He surges forward to grip Teddy’s hand before Teddy has a chance to properly introduce himself.
“I’m Will!” he says. He’s a few inches shorter than Teddy, with a mess of black hair and a face full of freckles. When he shakes Teddy’s hand, there’s so much enthusiasm behind it it’s almost cartoonish.
“Teddy,” he says, trying not to laugh.
“Holy shit, it’s cool to meet you.” Will glances between Teddy and Bennett, an obvious question written in his expression. Before he can ask, though, another hand slides into Teddy’s.
“I’m Liz,” the brunette girl says, stepping closer than what feels necessary. Teddy opens his mouth to introduce himself but she cuts him off with, “It’s so nice to meet you, Teddy.”
Yep. Teddy knows the look she’s giving him all too well—it’s the same look the flight attendant gave him on the plane to Charlotte yesterday, except paired with a sly smile that makes Teddy ten times more uncomfortable.
“You too,” he says, pulling his hand away as fast as he can without seeming impolite.
Liz’s eyes never leave Teddy’s face as she says, “Bennett, I’m just dying to know how you two know each other.”
Teddy’s not sure if she’s trying to be intimidating or charming with it … not that it matters. All it comes off as is irritating.
“We were sitting in the same row on a flight into Charlotte yesterday,” Bennett says, surprisingly. Teddy had been expecting some kind of deflection, or at least a vague enough response that could squash any follow-up questions.
“That’s so cool!” Will says. “Random for sure, but still so cool.”
“Superrandom,” Liz agrees, cocking her head to the side and studying them with open suspicion.
“Yeah—I had a connecting flight down to Miami that got canceled,” Teddy jumps in, since this is getting weird, fast. “So Bennett agreed to take me home with her after I practically got down on my knees and begged her to. Then I just invited myself to stay the whole weekend.”
Bennett and Will laugh.
“That’s so nice of you, Bennie,” Liz says, grinning as she takes a step toward Teddy. Teddy, in turn, moves a little closer to Bennett. (Whether it’s for his own protection or for hers, he’s not sure.) Liz glances between them again and smirks.
“Liz, help me with the food in here,” Will says, hopping back into their boat and rummaging around. Liz’s face drops into a scowl as she turns toward her brother.
“I think you can handle that one on your own, Will,” she says. Then she heads up the dock walkway, throwing another sly smile over her shoulder at Teddy, and yikes—this evening’s definitely going to be fun.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bennett pretty much goes AWOL after the McGeary landing, leaving Teddy stranded in a kitchen full of strangers. She disappeared to take a phone call after they all walked up from the dock, so Teddy hopped in the shower to kill some time while she was gone. Tanner told him she was still on the phone when he came back upstairs, but that was thirty minutes ago, and Bennett’s still nowhere to be found now.
Since Mrs. Caldwell basically kicks Teddy out of the kitchen when he asks if there’s anything he can help with (Guests are not allowed to help, Teddy), he and Tanner decide to head out onto the back deck to try to catch today’s baseball highlights on their phones. (Mr. McGeary already called dibs on the living room TV to watch some MSNBC special before dinner.…) Unfortunately, they only make it about twenty minutes before Liz descends upon them again.
“There you guys are,” she says when she swings open the deck doors. She takes a seat at the high table in the corner, eyes on Teddy the whole time.
Will steps out onto the deck behind her and grabs an open rocking chair. “What’re you guys up to?”
“Checking the baseball highlights from today,” Tanner says. “The Braves swept—”
Liz cuts him off with one of the most theatrical sighs Teddy’s ever heard. Even in show business. “God, do we have to talk about baseball? It’s so boring.”
“Do you have any other suggestions?” Tanner asks, the edge in his tone indicating that he’s done with her, too.
She shrugs and pulls out her phone. “I don’t care—just, anything else.”
“So hey, Teddy, not to be weird or anything,” Will starts after a moment, aiming for nonchalance and missing completely, “but you’re from Testing Wyatt, right?”
Liz scoffs without looking up from her phone. “Way to be subtle, William.”
“Yeah, I am,” Teddy says to Will.
Will looks so excited he might jump out of his chair. “Nice! I loved your movie Corduroy, too. I’m a huge fan of the director.”
“Really? Thanks, man. You a big movie buff of something?” Teddy asks. People naming off his acting résumé is never comfortable, so maybe Teddy can reroute the conversation.
“Yeah, definitely. I’m actually pretty into theater—”
“Pretty into theater dudes, you mean,” Liz snickers under her breath, but it’s just loud enough for everyone on the porch to hear.
Will freezes, and it takes about as long for Teddy to make sense of Liz’s implication as it takes for most of the color to drain from Will’s face.
“Jesus, Liz—are you serious with this again?” Tanner mutters, and just the fact that the word “again” is in his sentence is enough to put Will and Liz’s relationship into clear focus.
“What? Aw, come on,” Liz says with so much fake innocence behind it it’s offensive. “It’s not like it’s a big secret anymore. Plus, it’s 2018, Will! You should be proud.”
Teddy steals a glance at Will, who looks like he’s either going to take a swing at his sister or start to cry. Teddy had been expecting bad, but he hadn’t expected this—what kind of asshole outs her own brother in front of a total stranger? Teddy wants to divert the conversation before it can get any more uncomfortable for Will.
“Hey, Will. If you’re into acting, man, I’m definitely down to talk more about it,” he says quickly. “I’m kind of a rookie in comparison to others, though, so try not to hold it against me.”
It takes a few seconds, but a hint of a smile appears on Will’s face. “Come on, man. You’re killing it right now—don’t try to tell me you’re still a rookie.”
Teddy laughs. “I am! For real. I didn’t start acting until I auditioned for Testing Wyatt, and in retrospect I wish I’d taken some acting classes or something in high school.”
“Ugh, acting classes are all Will does these days,” Liz says, wedging herself back into the conversation. Teddy has never been so close to telling someone to shut the hell up in his life. “There’s only so much you can learn before it becomes repetitive—”
“Yeah, that’s not true. At all,” Teddy cuts across her, surprising himself with how dismissive he sounds.
Liz scoffs, apparently offended by the shutdown. When no one jumps to defend her, she gets up from her spot at the high table and mutters something that Teddy doesn’t catch on her way back inside. Will pretends like she isn’t even there as she walks by, and Tanner throws up a half-hearted salute to her before going back to his phone.
Teddy turns to Will. “So, anyway, definitely keep taking as many classes as you can. I promise you’ll be glad y
ou did.”
* * *
All right. Teddy knows Bennett probably isn’t doing it on purpose, but this is getting a little ridiculous.
When the hell is she going to get off the phone?
“I’m gonna run inside for a sec,” Teddy says after he finishes talking to Will about his stance on Method acting. (He’s actually torn on it, honestly.) When Will starts to protest, Teddy says, “I’m just gonna go see where Bennett is. I’ll be back in a sec.”
In the kitchen, Mr. Caldwell is helping Mrs. Caldwell mix corn on the cob into the gigantic silver pot she’d washed out that morning, while Mrs. McGeary rearranges the platters on the kitchen island. Once again Teddy gets denied when he offers to help, but he does learn from Mr. Caldwell that Bennett’s downstairs on the patio. Teddy takes the long way around the kitchen counter to avoid walking by Liz on his way to the basement stairs.
The back wall of the Caldwells’ basement is mostly windows, so when Teddy reaches the bottom of the steps, he catches sight of Bennett outside with her phone clutched to her ear. She’s pacing around as she talks, looking like she needs a few more minutes, so Teddy veers off down the hallway to grab his own phone out of his room. He still hasn’t responded to any of Chelsea’s texts or voice mails (which is pretty ironic, considering during the past year their relationship lived and breathed by their iPhones thanks to conflicting filming schedules).
Teddy sits on the edge of his bed and stares at the three new text message notifications on his home screen, feeling guilty about leaving his phone in his room all afternoon so he wouldn’t have to deal with this. Sure, they’ve fought a lot, but not once has Chelsea ever said anything along the lines of “Fuck this, I’m done.” Had she sent that text a week ago—hell, two days ago—Teddy probably would have been devastated. Now, he just feels … indifferent? Maybe he’s finally maxed out on emotional whiplash and constantly worrying about never knowing where they stood with each other.
Teddy decides not to read the texts just yet. He’s been thinking about how he wants to respond all day, but even now he still doesn’t know how or where to start. He stands after another minute or so, pocketing his phone and straightening the duvet cover.
Love Scene, Take Two Page 7