Something Borrowed

by Catherine Hapka

  “That was just a guideline.” I didn’t take my eyes off the guy as he executed a funky little pivot on the skateboard to allow an older woman to pass by. “I think I’ll go say hi.”

  “Have fun. I’ll be here.”

  I hopped up and hurried across the grass, jumping a little patch of flowers at the edge of the walk. Nobody ever accused me of being shy, and I wasn’t about to get bashful now. The guy had stopped and kneeled down to tie his sneaker, which made it easy to catch up to him.

  “Hi,” I said. “I saw that move you made back there. You know, the little spin thing? Cool.”

  He glanced up at me, then stood up quickly without finishing with his sneaker laces. He was wearing baggy shorts and a Surf Naked T-shirt. “Thanks,” he said, brushing a wad of hair out of his eyes. “You skate?”

  “No. But I like guys who do.” I tilted my head and smiled. “My name’s Ava, by the way.”

  “I’m Zach. But my friends call me Zoom.” He stuck out his hand, and I shook it. He had a nice handshake—steady but not too squeezy. “You go here, Ava? I don’t remember seeing you around.”

  I shook my head. “My friend goes here.” I gave a vague wave in Teresa’s general direction. “I’m just visiting from the burbs.”

  “Cool.” Zoom stepped on one end of his skateboard to flip the other end up into his hand. “So what do you girls have planned during your visit? Anything fun?”

  A light breeze blew my hair into my face. I brushed it back and smiled up at him. “Maybe,” I said. “We’ll probably grab some lunch in a little while. Want to join us?”

  “I wish I could.” He kicked at a loose brick on the walk, suddenly looking sorrowful. “I’m actually on my way to class. Summer school. Gotta make up credits from when I was in the hospital over the winter—snowboarding accident.”

  “Oh.” I couldn’t help being disappointed. Was this his way of blowing me off? Maybe I was reading him wrong, but he didn’t look like the type to care that much whether he made it to class or not.

  He seemed to read my mind. “I’d totally ditch,” he said. “I mean, it’s not that often I get invited to lunch by a couple of cute girls.” He shrugged. “But we’ve got a quiz today. If I miss another one, I might not pass, and then I’m in trouble.” He winked and grinned. “Especially since I already know I’m ditching Wednesday. Got a competition out in Bucks County.”

  I grinned back. He looked even more adorable with that playful, conspiratorial look on his face. Like a mischievous little boy in a grown-up hunk’s body. “A competition? You mean skateboarding?”

  “Naw.” Zoom glanced down at his skateboard. “Freestyle BMX. It’s one of my things.” His eyes brightened. “Hey, you could come watch if you want.”

  “That sounds great!” I said quickly. Then I frowned. “Wait. But I can’t. I have to work on Wednesday.”

  “Dude, blow it off!” Zoom urged me. “Get someone else to work for you. I could use a cheering section.” He shot me a rakish smile. “Especially one cute enough to distract my competition.”

  It was tempting. He was definitely flirting with me now, and I could tell he was hooked. Hanging out with him at his BMX thing could be just what I needed to seal the deal.

  Still, I knew what I had to say. “I can’t. Sorry. See, I’m already taking a bunch of time off next week because my sister’s getting married. But hey!” I added brightly, pretending I’d just had a brainstorm. “I don’t have a date to the wedding yet. Want to go?”

  “A wedding?” He looked slightly dubious. “Um . . .”

  A few minutes later Zoom was skateboarding off to class—only a little late for his quiz—and I was skipping back over to Teresa. She shaded her eyes and squinted at me as I flopped down on the grass beside her.

  “Well?” she said.

  “His name’s Zoom,” I said happily. “He’s really amazing. Definitely Mr. X Games, like you said.”

  “Who says you can’t judge a book by its cover?” she murmured.

  “He’s even entered in some big BMX dirt-bike competition this week.” I sighed, still wishing I could go watch him. “I guess he’s really into that stuff. Kind of cool, don’t you think? Anyway, he wants to maybe get together later in the week and hang out.”

  She shrugged. “Sounds good. So did you mention the wedding, or are you going to spring that on him after the first date?”

  “I mentioned it. He wasn’t too sure at first—the whole Main Line fancy dress-up thing isn’t really his scene.” I smiled proudly. “But then he said something about how life is all about trying new things, and he’d give anything a go once, as long as he could go there with me.”

  Teresa looked slightly confused. “So what does that mean? Do you have a date to the wedding?”

  “I have a date to the wedding.”

  Five

  “I still can’t believe you came out to see me.” I licked hot sauce off my finger. “Aren’t you going to get in trouble for ditching class two days in a row?”

  “Who cares?” Zoom grinned at me across the aqua-blue Formica table. “No quiz today. Or tomorrow, either.”

  It was Tuesday, and we were having lunch at Burrito Moe’s. Zoom had called that morning to see if I wanted to hang out. At the time I’d been embroiled in a scintillating discussion with Mom and Camille about ice sculptures, so it hadn’t been a difficult decision. When he’d heard I didn’t have a car, Zoom had immediately volunteered to take the train out to see me, “since, like, you came to my turf yesterday and all.” We’d been hanging out for a couple of hours, spending the first part of that time wandering around talking and window shopping before ending up at the taco place.

  Now there he was, sitting across from me eating a plate of enchiladas, his wild hair and groovy board shorts looking very much at home in the casual beachfront-cantina decor of Burrito Moe’s. A girl I knew from my childhood piano lessons was there picking up food, and she’d shot Zoom a curious glance. Cute, she’d mouthed to me as she hurried out.

  She was right. Zoom was totally cute, and so far we were really hitting it off. Maybe everything happened for a reason. After all, if Lance hadn’t wigged out and dumped me two weeks before Camille’s wedding, I might never have met Zoom. Now I had a date with an Ivy League guy with no axle grease under his nails, no family relation to Boring Bob, and every indication that he could turn into something ongoing. Talk about turning lemons into lemonade! The thought of walking into the wedding with Zoom was almost making me look forward to it for a change.

  As I tried to imagine what he would look like in formal attire, my gaze wandered to his long, lanky, hairy legs, which were sprawled out halfway across the aisle. I couldn’t help noticing that they sported an impressive collection of scars.

  “What happened there?” I pointed to his legs. “Does one of your other hobbies involve wrestling grizzly bears or something?”

  He lifted one leg and gazed down at it. “What, the scars?” he asked. “Naw, no bears involved. I got that one and that one skating.” He pointed from one to the next. “This one here’s from when I wiped out mountain biking a couple of years back, and the big one’s from my snowboarding accident last winter. Oh, and that crooked one there was when I got attacked by a shark while I was surfing down in Jamaica last summer.”

  “A shark?” I wasn’t sure whether to believe that one or not.

  He grinned. “It was this big.” He held out his hands to indicate a length of about a foot and a half. “But dude, it was really angry!”

  I giggled, then reached for my drink to douse the fire of my Spicy Quesadilla Special. “I thought my scar was bad.” I held out my arm and pointed to the tiny white bump on the back of one wrist.

  “Dude! Chick scars are totally hot.” He grabbed my arm and pulled it toward him for a better look. When he brushed the tiny scar with the tip of his fingers, I had to fight back a shiver. “How’d you do it? Skydiving? Waterskiing?”

  “Nothing that exciting. My sister pushed me into the
pool when we were younger, and I hit it on the edge.”

  He glanced up at me with a knee-melting little half smile. “Well, I think it’s sexy. A little damage makes people more interesting, right?”

  “Right.” We locked eyes for a long, intense moment. I was the first one to look away. “It’s getting late,” I said, glancing at my watch. “I should probably head to work soon.”

  “Bummer.” Zoom shoved the last bite of food into his mouth, then slurped down the rest of his soda. “Sure you can’t blow it off?”

  “I’m sure. Sorry.”

  “How about tomorrow?” he wheedled with a winning smile. “Just call in sick or something. Then you can come watch my BMX thing. It’s going to be awesome!”

  I leaned over and poked him in the arm. “You’re a bad influence,” I teased. “It’s totally tempting—really. But I’ll come watch next time, okay? Especially if it’s after the wedding.” I stood and picked up my tray. “You know, I feel like all my plans are divided into two categories lately: BW and AW. Before Wedding and After Wedding.”

  Zoom chuckled. “Let me get that.” He grabbed my tray from me and carried it over to the return spot along with his own. As we headed for the exit, he shot me a sidelong glance. “Listen, I can’t wait until AW to see you again. What time do you get off work tomorrow night?”

  “Six thirty,” I replied.

  “Cool. I’ll give you a call tomorrow and we can make a plan to do something later. What do you say?”

  How could I resist? “Sounds great.”

  “Awesome.” We were outside by now, walking through the little cement garden of outdoor seating between the restaurant and the sidewalk out front. It was hot and humid today and nobody was sitting out there. Zoom and I both sort of drifted to a stop and looked at each other.

  “I guess I should go.” Without taking my eyes off him, I waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the closest train station. “You can catch your ride back to the city right over there. I have to go the other way, so we should probably just say goodbye here.”

  “Cool. Guess this is good-bye for now, then.” He leaned forward and rested one hand on my upper arm. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Ava. . . .”

  My heart was beating a little faster. I could tell he was going in for that key first kiss, and I was more than ready. His face came closer, closer . . .

  “Hi, Ava! What’s up?” a familiar voice interrupted loudly.

  Zoom blinked in surprise and backed off. With a slight frown, I glanced over and saw Jason walking toward us dressed in Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt. As usual, he was wearing that smug little Mr. Slick grin of his.

  I gritted my teeth. Talk about timing! “What are you doing here, Jason?”

  “What do you think? Jonesing for some tacos.” He rubbed his stomach and glanced at Zoom. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

  “Not much, dude.” Zoom nodded at him, then reached over and gave me a quick squeeze on the shoulder. “I’ll catch you tomorrow, Ava.”

  “Okay.” I watched helplessly as he loped off toward the train station. Then I rounded on Jason. “Nice interruption, genius.”

  “Sorry.” He grinned, not looking sorry at all.

  “Whatever.” I turned and stalked off, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort it would take to yell at him.

  He caught up with me as I reached the sidewalk. “Hey, where are you going?”

  “Work. If you’ll excuse me, I’m late already.” I kept walking.

  “Hold on.” He grabbed my arm to stop me. “Look, I was just kidding around. I’m sorry I interrupted you and Sideshow Bob back there. Why don’t you let me make it up to you by driving you to work? It’s a pretty long walk from here, especially in this heat.”

  I hesitated, then nodded. He was right about the heat—I was sweating already. “It’s a deal,” I said, shaking my arm free of his grip, which for some reason he’d failed to loosen even after I’d stopped. “But what about your tacos?”

  “I’m not really that hungry.” He fished his car keys out of the pocket of his shorts. “Come on, I’m parked over there.”

  Soon we were in the Prius heading for Wellington Gardens. I adjusted the AC output so it blew directly on my face. It felt kind of weird to be alone in the car with Jason. After six months I was getting used to him as a sort of accessory in Teresa’s life, like her favorite cologne or her horses. Sitting next to him in the car like this was different—almost like he was a real person.

  “So was that your new date for the wedding?” Jason asked.

  I glanced over at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. Traffic on Route 30 was snarled with shoppers darting in and out of businesses and parents picking up their toddlers at day-care, and he had his eyes on the road.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Zoom’s a cool guy. I’m hoping he can help keep me sane while I’m dealing with my insane sister.”

  “Good luck with that.” Jason snorted. “Teresa told me about the appetizer thing the other day.”

  “You mean the Great Canapé Disaster? Camille is still complaining about that one.” I grimaced. “But it’s way too nice a day to waste talking about my crazy sister. Let’s change the subject.” Figuring he probably wouldn’t be interested in discussing how lucky I was to have met Zoom, I fished for a more mutually interesting topic. “Can you believe Teresa leaves for her trip in like a week and a half? You’re probably going to miss her even more than I am, huh?”

  He didn’t answer. His eyes stayed focused straight ahead, even though the car was stopped at a red light. “Yeah,” he said at last as the light turned green. He sped through it and pulled over to the curb in front of Wellington Gardens. “Well, here we are. Don’t be too shy to tip your cab driver.”

  I reached for the door handle. “Here’s a tip,” I said. “Those Bermuda shorts make you look like my Grandpa Hamilton.” I jumped out, then leaned back in before shutting the door. “Thanks for the ride, Gramps.”

  Half an hour later I was ringing up a flat of zinnias and idly thinking that I was glad Tommy wasn’t in that day. I hadn’t seen him since our little phone chat on Sunday. Even though I had Zoom now, I was still a little embarrassed thinking back on that goofy message I’d left for Tommy.

  “Thanks for shopping at Wellington Gardens,” I told the lady with the zinnias. “Please come again.”

  “Thanks,” the woman said, picking up her bag and walking away.

  The next customer in line stepped forward. “Find everything you need?” I asked automatically, barely glancing at him. Then I did a double take. “Oh, wow! Andy! Is that really you?”

  My favorite ex-boyfriend ever was standing there grinning back at me. Andy looked even more adorable than the last time I’d seen him, almost a year earlier. He’d let his sandy-brown hair grow out a little, and he looked fitter and more mature. He was holding a pair of women’s gardening gloves, but he dropped them on the counter and came around to give me a hug.

  “Hi, Ava,” he said into my ear in that warm, sexy voice of his. He smelled like coffee and aftershave. “How’s it going?” He pulled back and gave me a once-over. “You look great.”

  “You, too!” I stared at him, still a little in shock at his sudden appearance.

  Andy was the only guy I’d ever thought of as The One That Got Away. He was in Teresa’s grade, and I’d dated him for almost five months. I’d broken up with him toward the end of his senior summer, just a few weeks before he left for Brown, telling him it was because I wasn’t into the longdistance thing. But in truth that was only part of the reason. The other part was that Andy had always been a little too comfortable with illicit substances for my taste, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with that any longer. But I’d always sort of wondered . . .

  Luckily, there was nobody behind him in line. I leaned on the counter and grinned like an idiot at him. “So what are you doing here?” I asked him.

  “Running errands for my mom.” He gestured at the gardening gloves.

  I reached
over and gave him a playful pinch on the arm. “Not that. I mean here in a more general sense. Good old PA. Teresa told me you had a job up in Providence for the summer.”

  “I do. But I took a couple of weeks off to visit the old stomping grounds.” He smiled. “Plus I told Mariella Farley I’d go to some big ol’ wedding with her next weekend.”

  I should have known. “You and everybody else in the tri-state area,” I said, rolling my eyes. Andy had grown up next door to Camille’s high-school friend Mariella. I wasn’t surprised that she’d asked him, even though he was a few years younger. I’d seen him in formalwear, and he was way beyond presentable. “But never mind that. Have you seen Sam and Davey and the rest of those guys since you’ve been home?”

  “Not much.” He cleared his throat. “I—um—don’t really have too much in common with those guys anymore.” At my look of surprise he smiled sheepishly. “High school was one thing, but getting wasted all the time didn’t mesh too well with Ivy League schoolwork. I had a choice to make, and I decided to give that stuff up.”

  “Wow, that’s great. I’m proud of you, Andy. Really.” Just then I spotted my boss coming toward me from the seed aisle, and a pair of old ladies approaching from the other direction with an armful of flower pots. “Oops, I almost forgot I’m supposed to be working. . . .” I grabbed the gardening gloves and rang them up.

  “Thanks,” Andy said, his hand brushing mine as he took the bag. “I’ll see you next weekend, Ava. Maybe we can catch up more then.”

  “For sure.” I smiled at him. “Save a dance for me, okay? For old times’ sake.”

  As he left, I blew out a long sigh. For a moment I almost wished that Zoom and I weren’t getting along so great. It was tempting to imagine rekindling things with Andy now that he’d cleaned up his act, and a nice romantic setting like a wedding reception would certainly be the perfect place to do it. . . .

  Too many guys, too little time. That was what Teresa always joked should be my motto in life, and maybe she was right.

  “Welcome to Wellington Gardens,” I said to the old ladies automatically, visions of cute guys still dancing through my head. “Find everything you need?”