Destination Unknown

by Amy Clipston

  “Oh, really?” Brett moved over to me.

  The phone chimed again, and I tried to hide it behind my back. I hoped my mother would come looking for me. I could really use your interference now, Mom!

  “Let me see that.” Brett reached behind me and swiped the phone from my hand.

  “Give it back!” I lunged for him, but he reached the other side of the room before I could get there. Frustration and anger surged through me. “That’s personal!”

  “Let’s see.” He studied the phone. “Taylor’s text message says, ‘Seriously. I can come get u. Tell me when.’ ” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You’re a terrible liar, Whitney. Just like when you told my mother you didn’t have a date for the prom. I bet your loser boyfriend has already asked you.”

  I reached out and grabbed my phone. “He’s not my boyfriend. And no, he hasn’t asked me, but that’s none of your business.”

  “He hasn’t asked you? I bet I know why.” Brett sneered at me. “He won’t ask you because he doesn’t have the money to pay for it. How can he afford to rent a limo, buy you a ticket and a corsage, and also get a tuxedo?”

  I pointed toward the door. “You need to leave.”

  Brett’s expression softened. “Look, let’s stop arguing. We both know we belong together.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” I snorted. “Please. Just go downstairs.”

  “I’m serious, Whitney.” He stepped toward me. “I messed up when I broke up with you. I’m really sorry. Let’s get back together.”

  “No.” I shook my head and took a few steps back. “Leave now.”

  “Then let’s be friends. We can still go to prom. We look good together.”

  “I wouldn’t go to prom with you if you were the last man on earth, Brett. You can just forget it.” Agitation boiled up in me.

  “Now listen.” Brett held a finger up as if to calm me. “If you go to prom with me, I’ll do it right. I’ll get a limo, and we can ride with our friends. We’ll have a nice dinner, and then we’ll—”

  “Just stop it.” I held up my trembling hand. “I’m not going to prom with you, so just drop it.”

  “But, Whitney.” He stepped closer to me, and I backed up until I hit my dresser, square in my lower back. “You know I care about you.”

  “No, Brett, you only care about one person, and that’s yourself.”

  “Oh, please.” He touched my arm. “You know I’m crazy about you. It just took breaking up with you to realize how much you mean to me.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “You’re jealous that I like Taylor more than you. You can’t stand knowing you’ve been beat. And it makes you even angrier I picked a guy you don’t like.”

  “Yes, I am angry you like Taylor, but I can show you how much better I am. Just give me a chance.” He cupped his hand to my cheek, and my skin crawled. “You only need to just let me work my magic, and then you’ll remember why we were good together. We’re meant to be together. You’re the captain of the cheerleading squad, and I’m the captain of the football team. We’re going to be prom king and queen.”

  “No, we’re not. You better get your hands off me, or I’m going to scream. My father won’t be happy when he comes up here and sees you touching me.” My heart pounded. I needed to get away from him. I tried to push him back and dropped my phone on the floor behind me in the process.

  “Your problem is that you need to relax.” He gripped my arms hard and then dipped his face toward mine.

  “Whitney!” My mother’s voice boomed from the doorway. “What’s going on in here?”

  Thank you, Mom! Brett finally let go, and I pushed past him toward the door. “I was just coming down.”

  “Well. That’s good to know.” Mom looked between us. “Coffee and cake are on the table. I’d like you both to join us now.”

  Brett followed me to the door. “We were just talking about prom.”

  “Oh?” Mom’s eyebrow’s lifted. “Is that so?”

  “Unbelievable.” I rushed toward the stairs and made a beeline for the dining room, where I found everyone passing out pieces of the red-velvet cake Rhonda had picked up at an expensive bakery downtown.

  I sat next to my father and smoothed my dress over my legs. A shiver went through me as I imagined what could’ve happened if my mom hadn’t interrupted Brett. I pushed that thought away.

  “Is everything all right?” Dad whispered as he handed me a piece of cake on Mom’s fancy china.

  “Yeah.” I took the plate. “I’ll be all right.”

  Brett sat across from me, and my mother gave me a strange expression before sitting beside him.

  My father poured a cup of coffee and handed it to me. “Here, Whitney. This should make you feel better.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I reached for the sweetener and then the cream and avoided Brett’s stare as I stirred them into the coffee.

  Conversations swirled around me while I ate cake and drank coffee. I realized I hadn’t responded to Taylor’s offer to come over and rescue me, and I considered excusing myself to sneak back upstairs and call him.

  When I stabbed the last forkful of cake, my mother shook her head as if to tell me not to finish it because of the evil calories. With my eyes glued to her, I ate it, chewing slowly.

  An engine boomed nearby, followed by headlights shining into the dining room windows.

  “Who could that be?” Mom asked.

  My pulse raced. Could Taylor have actually come to rescue me from the dinner party?

  “I’ll go see.” I jumped up from the table and rushed to the front door. I stepped onto the front porch just as Taylor climbed the steps. “Taylor. What are you doing here?”

  “I was worried about you.” He wore tight jeans, a black T-shirt with a band name on it, and his jacket. His curls were matted to his head from wearing the helmet. And he looked great to me, so much better than Brett looked in his expensive suit.

  “I’m okay.” I shivered in the cool night air and hugged my arms to my chest.

  His eyes moved down my body. “You look really nice.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced back toward the door. “I can’t stay out here long. My mom is watching me like a hawk tonight.”

  “Oh.” He pointed toward the road. “I guess I sort of overreacted by coming out here, but I was worried when you didn’t answer my last couple of texts.”

  “I’m sorry. I got interrupted when I was texting you back. I’ll call you as soon as they leave.” I turned toward the door again. “It’s great to see you, but I really have to get back in there.”

  “You must have some pretty important guests in there.” He stepped closer to me, his boots scraping the porch. “Should I be jealous?”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “No. I’d much rather be with you.”

  “Good.” He caressed my arm, and I didn’t recoil as I had when Brett touched me. I leaned toward Taylor, enjoying the warmth of his hand. “You’re freezing, Whitney. You should go inside. Call me later.”

  The front door opened, and my mother poked her head out. “Whitney?” She glowered. “Oh. Hello, Taylor. This isn’t a good time, dear. We have company now.”

  “I’m sorry for interrupting, Mrs. Richards.” Taylor’s expression was full of remorse. “I wasn’t able to reach Whitney on her cell, and I had a quick question about our Spanish homework.”

  I shot Taylor a sideways glance, impressed with his quick thinking. From my viewpoint, the boy could talk his way out of any situation by the seat of his pants!

  “Whitney answered my question, so I’ll be on my way. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening, ma’am.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you, dear.” Mom turned to me. “I need you to come back inside, Whitney. It’s rude to leave our guests waiting.” She disappeared into the house and left the door ajar.

  “As if they’d miss me,” I muttered.

  “I’d miss you.” Taylor stepped closer to me.

  I looked up at him. “Would you
?”

  “Yeah.” Taylor touched my cheek. “I would. Eres muy linda.”

  I blinked, wondering if I’d imagined him telling me I was very pretty. “Gracias.”

  “You’re welcome,” he whispered. “I know I need to go, but I don’t want to.”

  “Whitney.” Brett stepped out onto the porch. “Did you want more cake? It’s going pretty quickly.”

  Taylor’s hand fell to his side, and his eyes darkened.

  I spun and glared at Brett. “What do you want?”

  “Oh, did I interrupt something? I’m sorry.” Brett smirked at Taylor. “How are you, Martinez? I didn’t realize you knew your way out to Castleton.”

  “Brett Steele. I’m amazed you can find your way off the football field.” Taylor glanced at me. “I didn’t realize I was interrupting a dinner party with your ex-boyfriend.”

  “I can explain.” I reached for Taylor, but he backed away from me. “This wasn’t my idea at all.”

  “Why don’t you come join us, Martinez?” Brett gestured toward Taylor. “Oh, but you’re not dressed for the occasion, are you?”

  I turned my angry eyes on Brett. “Shut up and go back in the house now.”

  Brett threw his hands up in surrender. “I was only trying to be cordial, Whitney. I’ll go back in now.”

  Taylor stalked down the porch steps and continued down the path for the driveway. I rushed after him, nearly slipping in my high heels.

  “Taylor! Taylor, wait!” I stopped and kicked off my shoes and then continued toward the driveway trying to ignore the sensation of the cold cement under my feet. “Please, Taylor.”

  He reached his bike and then spun to face me. “I feel so stupid right now. Here I was worried about you, and you were having a formal dinner with your so-called ex-boyfriend.” He raked his hands through his curls, his expression pained. “Whitney, I actually believed you liked me. Am I just a pawn for you to use to get your ex-boyfriend back?”

  “No. That’s not it at all.” My voice was thick with emotion. “Taylor, I like you. I like you more than I ever liked Brett. You’re real. You’re kind and thoughtful. You treat me better than any guy I’ve ever known.” I pointed toward the house. “This whole stupid party was my mom’s idea. She and Brett’s mom are trying to get us back together. I never wanted to be a part of this.”

  He stared at me, and his expression remained the same, unconvinced and hurt. I knew I had to bare my soul, as embarrassing as it might be.

  “Look, I’ve spent the whole night wishing you were the one sitting next to me at dinner.” I sniffed as a lump swelled in my throat. “I actually snuck up to my room earlier to text you because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” A tear trickled down my cheek, and I wiped it away quickly. “I really like you, Taylor. I look forward to your text messages and to seeing you at school. I don’t know what else I can say to convince you that you’re the one I like, not that idiot Brett Steele.”

  Taylor opened his arms to me. “Come here.”

  I launched myself into his arms, and he pulled me close. I buried my face in his neck, trying to stop my tears from pouring from my eyes. I felt like a complete moron for crying, but the idea of losing Taylor’s friendship was too much for me to handle.

  “Tú me gusta,” he whispered the words close to my ear, sending shivers rippling down my spine.

  “I like you too.” I stepped back from his embrace.

  “And you don’t like Brett.” His words were more of a statement than a question.

  “I can’t stand the sight of him.”

  Taylor grinned. “Good. Keep it that way.”

  “Whitney.” My brother’s voice sounded from the far end of the driveway. “Oh, hey,” he said to Taylor.

  “Logan, you remember Taylor from church, right?” I said.

  “Hey, Taylor. Cool bike,” Logan said.

  “Thanks man.” Taylor nodded at him.

  “Let me guess,” I said, facing my brother. “Mom wants me?”

  Logan nodded. “Yeah. Mom is getting really upset. You’d better come inside now.”

  “Go.” Taylor squeezed my hand. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Okay.” I wiped my eyes again “I’ll be right there, Logan.”

  My brother disappeared down the path toward the front door.

  “Buenas noches.” Taylor grinned at me.

  I watched him drive off and wished I were on the back of his bike, riding away from the suffocating dinner party in my dining room.

  “Why did you tell Rhonda you’re not sure if you’re going to Kentwood?” My mom stood in the doorway to the dining room while I removed the tablecloth later that evening after our guests had finally gone home.

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t going, but it’s true that I’m still not certain I want to go.” I rolled up the tablecloth. “I still can’t decide which school is the right fit for me.”

  “You know Kentwood would give you the best opportunities, Whitney. I only want what’s best for you. I want to give you and your brother the best options for your futures, so you can be successful like your father.” She eyed me. “And why did you tell her you weren’t certain about prom either?”

  “Because I’m not. I don’t have a date, and that’s the truth. I may have to go alone.” I couldn’t tell her I was hoping Taylor would ask me. She’d have a heart attack at the thought of me in a gown on the back of Taylor’s bike. I suppressed a grin at the thought.

  “I imagine Brett will ask you to the prom.” She looked amused. “You and Brett were getting cozy in your room earlier.”

  “No, we weren’t. He was getting aggressive with me. You actually walked in at the right time.”

  “Oh.” She paused for a moment, and her expression clouded. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I hugged the tablecloth to my chest as the memories of his sleazy hands flashed through my mind.

  “Do you want me to talk to Rhonda about it?” Mom continued to look concerned.

  “No, I’m fine, but thanks. He surprised me, but he didn’t hurt me. I think he was trying to convince me to go out with him again. He acted as if I would fall madly in love with him if he kissed me.” I set the tablecloth on the hutch. “He asked me to the prom, but I told him no.”

  “Have you thought about giving him a chance? Maybe he realized he’d been awful to you, and he really has changed. People can change if they really want to.”

  “I doubt he’s changed.” I pointed toward the tablecloth. “You’ll have to take this to the dry cleaners. I don’t think we should put it in our washer.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Mom turned toward the kitchen. “It’s getting late, so we’d better head to bed. I’ll finish cleaning up tomorrow. Good night, dear.”

  “Good night.” I yawned as I made my way up the stairs and down the hallway to my bedroom. I changed into my pajamas and then picked up my phone from the floor. When I unlocked it, I found four text messages from Taylor.

  I flopped onto my back on my bed and read them:

  Are u okay?

  Whitney, what’s going on?

  I’m heading over there to check on u.

  It was really good seeing u tonight. Heading to bed. Hope u sleep well. Sweet dreams. See u tomorrow.

  I placed my cell phone on my nightstand, and then I turned toward my digital clock, which read 12:15. My mind raced with flashbacks of the evening, from my talk with my father to Brett’s awful behavior and Taylor’s heart-pounding hug. I found myself spiraling into a black hole of confusion. Why was I falling in love with a guy my mother would never embrace as part of our family? I never imagined I would face a problem like this. I wasn’t the same person I used to be, and I wondered if I even fit in with my family anymore.

  I closed my eyes and opened up my heart, giving all of my worries over to God:

  God, please guide me. I’m trying hard, but my mother still isn’t listening to how I feel or what I want. I want to be my own person, not some carbon copy
of her. I want to make friends who don’t attend the country club, and most of all, I want to date Taylor. I’m falling in love with him, and I never imagined I could feel this way. God, help me know what to do.

  I covered my face with my hands as tears filled my eyes. Soon I fell into a deep sleep.

  chapter fifteen

  On Monday after school, I sat on a desk at the front of the classroom and read an events list off to my cheer team.

  “So, pretty much we’re just going to support the baseball team and attend their games until graduation,” I said. “We don’t have any official squad events or duties for the rest of the year. Of course, we’re going to attend tryouts later on in the spring and vote on the girls who try out for next year.”

  “What about prom?” Monica Barnes’ voice rang out from the back of the classroom.

  “What about it?” I rested my elbow on the clipboard.

  “Shouldn’t we do something to recognize our squad at prom? After all, many of us are seniors.” Monica hooted, and Tiffany gave her a high five.

  “I don’t think clubs and athletes are usually recognized at prom.” I looked at Kristin in the front row, hoping she’d chime in.

  Kristin spun and faced Monica. “We’ll be recognized when Whitney is crowned prom queen, and Brett Steele is prom king.”

  The team cheered, and impatience swelled inside me. “I don’t think that’s going to happen. Let’s move on.”

  “Why?” Misty Strickland called from the back row. “What do you mean you don’t think it’s going to happen, Whitney?”

  “Oh, of course it will!” Kristin waved off the comment. “You’re a shoo-in for queen, Whitney, and everyone wants Brett as king.”

  “Oh yeah.” Tiffany said from beside Kristin. “You’re like the royal couple of CHS!”

  “Is there something you’re not telling us, Whitney?” Misty’s expression changed to a mean smile. “Are you not going to prom with Brett? Are you going with your new boyfriend instead?”

  I glared at Misty. I was certain she was using any opportunity to single me out and do her best to embarrass me after what had happened at J2A two weeks ago. Misty crossed her arms over her hoodie, slumped back in the chair, and smirked at me.