“Are you even allowed to leave the house after last night? Is your dad still there?”
“No, he left again this morning. Can you meet me at Pamela’s, though? I have some stuff to do in town right after.”
I sighed, my head still fuzzy from sleep and putting together everything Brendan said. “Yeah, okay.”
Ω
Kristin dropped me off with strict orders to call her as soon as I needed her. I smiled and brandished my cell phone in recognition as I stepped out of the car. Brendan was already there, standing on the sidewalk, fidgeting against the cold. As I approached him, we looked at each other for a hard second. I didn’t smile. I didn’t know what kind of face to make, after last night. After what I’d learned.
“Hey,” I said, walking up to the sidewalk to meet him.
“Hey,” he said, with a soft smile.
For the first time in weeks, something felt kind of normal.
We slid into our booth and the waitress brought us a pot of coffee. Brendan poured for us both, nudging it over to me without cream or sugar. I had to love a guy who knew how I took my coffee, no matter how weird he acted.
Finally, I asked, in a low voice, “What happened last night?”
“What do you mean? You were there.”
I blew out a breath and shook my head, exasperated. “I mean, what happened with your dad? He should have been screaming and throwing shit and generally freaking out, but he was just so…”
“Not totally enraged? Yeah. It’s because of Sofia.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Brendan sighed and looked down at his hands, which were folded together in the middle of the table. “Well, Vincent and Sofia, more accurately. Do you know why they’re here? In town?”
“Because Mansfield Prep’s such a good school. Yeah.” Because they’re hoping the name of the school will get them into college when they can’t get decent grades?
“Well, yeah. But why they’re in Pittsburgh in the first place.”
I shook my head slowly, drawing my eyebrows in. “I guess I never thought about it? I thought it was just coincidence that you met them on that cruise, I….do you know why they’re in Pittsburgh?”
Brendan leaned back in his chair and exhaled heavily. “You know Dad’s a real estate developer, a property manager, right?”
“Yeah. Which is why he’s always traveling everywhere, checking on his properties.”
“Right. Well, Sofia’s dad is here looking to open up a Bertram, Crawford, and Cole office in one of a few cities. Buffalo, Richmond, or Pittsburgh. The office would be huge. Forty attorneys, at least. He brought the family here for a year to feel it out, find clients. And if he settles on Pittsburgh….”
I sat back too, then. “Then your dad would be home a lot more while they developed the property.”
Brendan nodded and grabbed for the menu, even though he knew exactly what was on it.
“And be able to deal with your mom.”
“Yeah, and maybe get her some help? I don’t know.” His eyes looked wet again.
“And let you go to one of the schools you really want to go to.”
“Yeah, even though it’s getting kind of late for that. But yeah. Ideally.”
“Okay, but what does that have to do with your dad not completely losing his shit when Hal drove his freaking Ferrari into your pool?”
“He partially lost his shit.”
I glared at him.
“Okay. So, the thing is, Dad wants to it to work out too. I know he’s never around, but he knows that Mom’s not doing well. He doesn’t want to be gone all the time. So…”
“If he screams at Vincent and Sofia, their dad isn’t happy, and puts the office in Buffalo instead.”
“Exactly.”
“And that’s also why you let her hassle you about the lacrosse team. And hang all over you.” As soon as I said it, my hand flew to my mouth. I couldn’t believe I’d actually said the words. I was just so happy that suddenly everything made some kind of sense.
“Do you really think she hangs all over me?”
All the relief I’d felt rushed right back out of my body. “Wait a minute. Do you like her?”
“She’s fine. Don’t you?”
“I…if you like fake, fawning, ridiculous girls, yeah, I guess she’s fine.”
“What makes you say she’s fake? Why wouldn’t she want to hang out with me?”
“Are you…oh, my God. That’s not what I meant, okay? I’m sorry.” Obviously I thought Brendan was cute enough for Sofia to want to hang out with him, and he was definitely popular. But the only real reason Sofia could have for wanting to hang out with the captain of the Mathletes instead of the captain of the lacrosse team was that he was rolling in it.
This was not the time to tell him that, though. Definitely not.
“Look, I never asked her out. We’re not together.”
“Have you thought of telling her that?”
“What are you talking about? She knows, okay? We’re just good friends.”
“You kids ready to order?” I realized the waitress was standing there, and wondered just how long she’d been watching me start to self-destruct.
“Yeah,” Brendan said, handing her the menus. “I’ll have the country breakfast with scrambled eggs, and she’ll have the banana stack.”
Hot tears pricked at the corners of my eyes—angry ones. He said he was letting Sofia hang all over him because of his dad’s job, but really he liked her. He must have. She was drop-dead gorgeous, and charming, and popular, and grew up exactly how he did—rich. Everything that was the opposite of what I was. She wasn’t afraid to be a normal high schooler, because she wasn’t afraid of being the next big victim of the popular kids’ scorn—she was one of them. If he was with her, he could be normal.
She was everything I wasn’t, everything I hated about Williamson, everything that terrified me. And she was trying to take away everything I loved about Mansfield.
And he still wanted to be with her. More than he wanted to be with me.
I stared at the linoleum tabletop instead of at him when I said, “Did you ever think that maybe I wouldn’t want the banana pancakes for once? Or maybe even that I could order for myself? I don’t need you for everything, you know.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, a cloud of flowery perfume descended on the table. I looked up and right into Sofia’s eyes.
“See, B?” She slid into the booth next to Brendan and stroked his arm, but her cool gaze was just for me. “She’s not upset about the party. And I knew she wouldn’t mind if I tagged along for breakfast. Like she just said—she’s just fine without you.”
My mouth gaped, and my gut felt like it was tearing itself apart. There were a hundred things I could say right now, but none of the ones that actually wanted to come out of my mouth were appropriate for a public place. So I just said, “I should go.”
I slid out of the booth—seriously, if there was ever a less delicate way to dramatically exit a dining situation, I couldn’t imagine it—and stalked out the front door, letting it swing shut behind me and rattling the bell that hung over it. I looked back through the window. Sofia had threaded her fingers through Brendan’s hair and was kissing him like her life depended on it. He didn’t even seem to notice I’d left.
She’d practically crawled into his lap and had both arms draped around him, but Brendan’s arms still rested on the back of the booth and the table. Maybe that meant something, maybe it didn’t. But right now all I could concentrate on was my trembling body and getting the hell out of there.
perplexity and agitation every way
Head down, hands shoved in my coat pockets, I fought the frigid wind sweeping off the Allegheny. It chilled me to the bone, but I had to get away from the huge picture windows of Pamela’s diner and the scene inside. The last thing I needed was Brendan and Sofia seeing the despair on my face as I tried to figure out what the hell to do with myself. I did a quick calc
ulation—eighteen blocks from the house, just about four miles. Which wouldn’t have been too far, with perfect weather, but it wasn’t even eight o’clock on a November morning in Pittsburgh and I was already chilled to the bone.
Even though I wanted to just be alone all day long, I knew I had to call Kristin and Bruce. When I pulled out my phone, it was dead—I’d forgotten to charge it when I’d collapsed in bed the night before. The tears started to come back, and I swiped them away. Tear-shaped icicles on my face would not help matters any.
Really, the last thing I needed was to feel like a jerk or a drama queen for crying over banana pancakes and eighteen blocks when Brendan had just told me last night that his mom was an alcoholic and he was just trying to keep his head above water. No matter what he was doing with Sofia in our diner.
Eighteen blocks was nothing.
I stuck my head down and watched my feet flash in front of me, one in front of the other. Before I knew it, I’d be home.
I made it half a block before I heard the unmistakable sound of tires rolling up next to me. The sun glinted off the metal of the car and into my eyes. “Hey,” Vincent’s smooth tenor came from the window as it rolled down. “Can I give you a ride? It’s freezing.”
I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. “You are pretty much the last person I want to see right now.” I stuck my head down and started walking again.
The car rolled up next to me again. “Hey. Hey, Ashley. Look, I’m sorry, okay? Last night was completely screwed up. You’ve gotta know, I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I just wanted a fun night with some good people and a great band. And your favorite cake.”
I stopped and looked into the car window. “My favorite cake?”
“Almond with coconut butter cream. Yeah. I have my ways of finding these things out.”
I glared at him. “I didn’t even get a slice.” The wind blew against me and started a shiver that wracked my whole body. My arms wrapped themselves around my body even tighter. “You’ll take me straight home?”
A hint of that same old patient Vincent smile showed. “Anything you want.”
I slid into the car’s dark leather seat, and immediately warmed up—heated leather. Of course it was.
We rode in silence for a few blocks. “Seriously, how did everyone hear about that party? And why did people come expecting to drink?”
Vincent sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Sofia. She…as soon as we moved it to Brendan’s house, it’s like she went into attack mode. She texted everyone, and told them to text everyone. Told them his parents wouldn’t be there. She didn’t say ‘bring a keg,’ but she might as well have.”
“Why would she do that?” It was everything I could do not to tack the word ‘bitch” on to the end of the sentence.
He shrugged. “Brendan has a huge house. She’s trying to make friends. Wanted to show off her boyfriend’s digs, I guess. Got carried away.”
“Her boyfriend?”
“Yeah, I mean, they are going out, aren’t they? Please don’t tell me that you haven’t noticed they’re attached at the hip.”
“I’ve noticed,” I muttered under my breath. Brendan could say they weren’t together all he wanted, but as long as everyone thought they were, it didn’t make a damn bit of difference. I knew that better than anyone.
I blew out a long breath, trying to steady myself, trying to make normal thoughts turn into non-angry words and will them to come out of my mouth.
“Whatever.” He shrugged. “But, if it’s worth anything, I only did one shot. If I had wanted it to be a drinking party…”
“Yeah, okay. Mr. Thomas didn’t freak out or kill anyone, miraculously, and no one died, and no cops came, so I guess we couldn’t really hope for a better outcome.”
He definitely smiled at that. “My dad called him this morning. They got the insurance worked out. Full restoration of the car, on us, no questions asked.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” Vincent laughed. “I mean, it’s my Christmas and birthday presents until I turn thirty-five, but it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”
He glanced over at me with that spark in his eyes. The one that was a little playful but mostly watchful. I might even call it adoring. Holy hell, he was gorgeous.
“Okay,” I said. “Well, as soon as I see Mr. Thomas again and his face isn’t all red with white blotches, you’ll be completely forgiven.”
“Until then?” Again, with the eyes.
“Mostly forgiven.” I couldn’t help the smile. Seriously, it completely took over my face, cutting off any chance I had at maintaining a scowl or even a pout.
“Well, then mostly will have to be good enough for now.” We hit the curving roads that took us up one of the mountains and let us look over the river at the city. It was really close to my water tower. I could have taken him there. He stepped on the gas.
“Good. Because I need you,” he said, breaking my thoughts.
I turned to him and raised my eyebrows, questioning.
“I have a proposition for you,” he said. “Can we be friends again? Just friends. I swear. I need someone to teach me how to use this DSLR I just got. I’m jealous of your camera-wrangling capabilities.”
“You’re the first person to understand that it’s not the camera, but the person shooting it. Um, hey,” I said, taking in the stunning view, “Aren’t we taking a bit of a detour?”
“We didn’t agree on a route, did we? And if you’re going to show me how to shoot this, we’re going to need something to take pictures of, right?” We pulled into a parking spot at the edge of the road. The sun had just started to really rise in the sky. It glinted off the wind-rippled surface of the Allegheny and reflected back from the millions of windows in the Pittsburgh skyscrapers. It was stunning, in an industrial-meets-nature kind of way.
“Point taken.”
He grinned and pulled a long, flat box wrapped in glossy pink paper from the seat behind him. “Here. Put this on.”
“What the…”
“Birthday present. Never got to give it to you before the shit hit the fan last night.”
I slid my finger under the edge of the paper and carefully lifted the tape, sliding the box out. Underneath the lid of the box and a layer of tissue paper was the softest, most exquisite camel-colored cashmere scarf I’d ever seen. I immediately lifted it to my cheek. “This is… Oh, Vincent. Whoa. I mean…I love it. Thank you.” I carefully arranged the scarf around my neck, like it was made of tissue paper itself.
Vincent grinned. A full-on grin. Maybe the second genuine smile I’d ever seen from him. “Okay. Now that you’re warm, let’s get out and you can show me how to work this sucker.”
He reached back behind my seat, and when his hand brushed against my shoulder, electricity jolted through me. He smelled exactly like you’d expect a guy to smell—like cologne and hair gel. In a space this close, it was heady, real. I could let myself be enveloped in it, if I wanted to. Enveloped in him.
He pulled out a box and sat it on his lap. Emblazoned on it in shining bright colors was the logo and name of the most expensive DSLR in its line.
“You’re shitting me,” I breathed, grabbing it and pulling it to my own lap. “You mean you haven’t even opened it yet?”
He shrugged. “You inspired me. It just arrived a couple of days ago.”
I shakily undid the stickers holding the box shut, and only realized I was holding my breath after a few seconds. Somehow it felt weird to be holding onto such a gorgeous piece of technology that cost so many thousands of dollars, unwrapping it straight from its original packaging. Even my voice shook when I spoke.
“See this red dot? That’s where the lens lines up with the notch on the body, okay? So just line those up, and it should click in fine.” I realized I was talking more to the camera than Vincent, crooning to it almost, and when I finally looked up at him, he was watching me. Enjoying it.
“Did you…uh…did you want to shoot s
omething outside?”
“Whatever’s best,” he said, opening his door and climbing out. By the time I’d placed all the plastic wrappers back in the camera’s box, he was already on my side of the car, opening the door for me.
He’d driven us all the way to the top of Mount Washington. By then, the sun had reached a high enough angle that it glinted off one flat curve of the bridge and most of the skyscrapers. Sometimes I missed my parents’ farmhouse, but I had to admit that most of the time I loved the way Pittsburgh sparkled.
I perched myself on the hood of his car and started tinkering with the settings on the camera. The wind bit at my fingers, but I didn’t care. Right in front of me, the metallic Pittsburgh shone against the brilliant autumn leaves of the surrounding mountains, and I was holding the most incredible camera money could buy. No way was I missing the opportunity to be in this moment. Just to be. My own little slice of heaven, no matter who else was here.
“So,” I said, peering through the viewfinder, “the most important thing for every shot is exposure. That means how much light you let into the camera. So you control that with ISO and shutter speed. Any time you’re outside during the day, you can keep it low, two hundred or four hundred. Control that here.”
I held the camera out toward Vincent, and realized he was looking at me instead of the camera, so I just kept talking.
“And, uh…shutter speed. That’s really simple to remember. For freezing motion, keep it high. For blurring, keep it low. For most sharp shots, you want at least one sixty, because your hands will shake.” I looked at him again. His gaze was still fixed on my face, and I just couldn’t help it. I grinned. “Do you want to try?”
He grabbed the camera body, first cradling it in his hands like a baby animal, then awkwardly gripping it in a couple different positions. I laughed. “You’ve never really held one of these before, huh?”’
“No, I told you. You inspired me.”
“The least I could do is help you out, then,” I said, grabbing the camera back from him. “Here.” I leaned into him and held the camera with both my hands in front of him, showing him how to place the heel of his right hand against the back and use his left hand to support the lens. He slipped his hands over mine, laying his fingers against mine to get a feel for where he should place them.
Solving for Ex Page 14