Something Borrowed

by Catherine Hapka

  Twelve

  “Sure you don’t want a drink, Ava?” Rocco asked as the waitress brought him his seventh beer. He was only eighteen, but with his impressive bulk and deep voice he could easily pass for twenty-one. The waitress hadn’t even asked for ID when he’d ordered his first Corona.

  I shook my head. “No thanks. I’m good.”

  The restaurant was still fairly busy even though it was getting late. Rocco and I had been there for more than two hours. We’d long since finished our food but had lingered, sharing a dessert and nursing our drinks—Rocco beer, me iced tea—while talking, laughing, reminiscing about high school, and generally having a great time. Sometime around his third beer I’d been worried that Rocco might turn into one of those obnoxious drunks, like a lot of the other jocks from our school who closed out parties by breaking things or running down the street naked. But if anything each beer only seemed to make him sweeter and friendlier.

  Finally, I glanced at my watch. “We should probably get going,” I said, reluctant to end the evening but knowing I should. “I have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “Oh, really?” Rocco chugged part of his beer, then leaned closer across the table, knocking over the salt shaker as he grabbed my hand. “What are you doing, besides looking beautiful?”

  I smiled to acknowledge the compliment. Drunken or not, that sort of thing was always nice to hear. Especially from a guy who could pass for Mr. Universe himself. If Rocco looked this good in jeans and a striped polo, I couldn’t wait to see him all dressed up for the wedding.

  “I’m under orders from Camille to go pick up the wedding favors in the morning,” I said. “She’s giving everyone these little engraved silver bells. Wedding bells—get it?”

  “That sounds beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you.”

  Okay, he was a sweet drunk, but now he was turning into a repetitive one too. “Anyway,” I continued, “Teresa’s got her mom’s car for the day, so she’s going to drive me to get the stuff. Then we’re going up to the mall to do some shopping and have lunch at the sushi place there. Sort of a final chance to hang out before she leaves for Germany the day after tomorrow.”

  I felt a pang at those last three words: “day after tomorrow.” I couldn’t believe Teresa was leaving so soon. I missed her already—between the wedding craziness and my own dating adventures, the last two weeks had flown by super fast. It almost felt as if I’d seen more of Jason than I had of her.

  Rocco flagged down the waitress and paid the bill. A few minutes later we were walking out into the warm summer night. Well, I was walking. Rocco was staggering a little.

  “I’m thinking you shouldn’t drive,” I told him. “Why don’t we call a cab?”

  “I have a better idea.” He grinned and pressed his car keys into my hand. “Want to try out my new ride?”

  “Really? Sure!” Rocco’s parents had bought him a brand-new top-of-the-line BMW as a graduation gift. They could afford it now that they didn’t have to pay for college—he’d landed himself a free ride to Penn State on a football scholarship.

  It only took me a couple of minutes to get the hang of the Beemer. Luckily, Rocco just laughed when I ground the gears a few times—like I said, I didn’t usually drive much.

  Soon we were cruising down the avenue with the windows open. The night air rushed in, tossing my hair around in my face. There wasn’t much traffic this late, so the usually busy road had an oddly intimate feel. Passing all the familiar Main Line landmarks, with an amazing old high-school buddy beside me, I felt a sudden rush of nostalgia. Soon I would be leaving all this behind for college. The adventurous part of me was looking forward to getting out into the world, meeting new people, trying new things. But another part of me was thinking that it was just too soon. Why couldn’t everything stay the same for a little while longer?

  “Hey.” Rocco interrupted my thoughts, leaning closer and jabbing a finger at the windshield. “Let’s go drive past the school.”

  “You mean our high school? Why?” I asked, wondering if he was thinking the same sorts of thoughts as I was. We were almost at the turnoff by now. I hit the turn signal and spun the wheel.

  He shrugged. “Just thought it would be fun to check out the place at night,” he rumbled, his voice even deeper than usual. “You know—for old times’ sake.”

  Soon we were pulling into the familiar parking lot. The building loomed in front of us, looking somehow somber and strange in the dark, as if aware that it had already pushed us off into adulthood and shut us out.

  “Why don’t we stop over there for a few minutes?” Rocco pointed out a parking spot at the far end of the lot beneath several large, overhanging willows at the edge of the sports fields.

  By now I had a pretty good idea of what he had in mind. Sure enough, when I turned off the car he immediately hopped out and hurried around the front of the car, only swaying a little. I unclipped my seat belt and opened my door.

  “Come here, beautiful,” he said in that extralow, throaty voice. He sounded sort of like Barry White, if Barry White were young and hot with abs of steel. Pulling me out of the car, Rocco wrapped his arms around me and kissed me.

  I went limp, sinking into the embrace. He was an excellent kisser.

  We moved over to the bench under the willow trees. He sat down and pulled me gently onto his lap. “This is nice,” I murmured, pushing my hair out of the way.

  “Uh-huh.” His hand was so big that it cupped my entire head as he pulled me toward him again.

  We made out for quite a while, and things got a bit hot and heavy. It wasn’t until a car cruised past on the quiet street nearby with its radio blaring that I reluctantly decided I’d better get home. My parents weren’t too strict about curfews and such, but even they might notice if I didn’t wander in until two a.m.

  I drove us home with his warm hand resting on my knee. We didn’t talk much; I’m pretty sure he was starting to fall asleep. But I was wide awake. I hadn’t been expecting much out of this evening other than a nice time with an old high-school friend. But if things continued on this way, I just might have to rethink that. . . .

  I parked his car on the street halfway between our two homes. Then I stuck the keys in his pocket and gave him a shove in the direction of his house, watching him stagger off just long enough to feel reassured that he was going to make it the whole three blocks home without falling over. Then I turned and headed for my own house, enjoying the cool air and the quiet of the sleepy neighborhood.

  “What are you smiling about?” Camille growled when I walked in. She and Mom were at the kitchen table poring over what looked like seating charts.

  “Nothing.” I smiled even wider. “Good night.”

  “Don’t forget you have to pick up the favors tomorrow!” Camille yelled after me as I skipped toward the stairs.

  The next morning I was still in a great mood. Not only was I going to have the best-looking date at the wedding, but after the previous evening I was actually getting a bit smitten with him. And based on the way he’d kissed me, I was pretty sure he felt the same. What could be better? This time I was sure all the drama had been worth it, now that I’d ended up with Rocco. I couldn’t wait to tell Teresa all about it.

  I was surprised and disappointed to see Jason’s Prius pull into the driveway instead of Teresa’s mother’s black sedan. “What are you doing here?” I demanded as I hurried toward the car.

  “Nice way to talk to a guy who’s doing you a favor,” Jason called back through the open window. “Come on, get in.”

  “Where’s Teresa?” I climbed into the empty passenger seat, still a little confused.

  He shrugged and put the car in gear. “Apparently she didn’t know the people at the barn were throwing her a surprise bon voyage party this morning.”

  “Duh. That’s what the word ‘surprise’ means, genius.” It came out a little ruder than I’d meant it to, since I was genuinely disappointed that Teresa wasn’t there.

  Luckily, h
e didn’t seem to notice. “Plus it turns out her mom needs the car today after all, so Teresa asked me to drive you out to Paoli to pick up the wedding stuff. Then I’ll drop you off at the mall—she said she’ll be there to meet you by eleven.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I leaned back against the seat. My happy mood was already seeping back. “Um, thanks, by the way. Camille would kill me if I didn’t pick up those favors.” I giggled. “On the plus side, if I were dead, I wouldn’t have to wear the Pink Horror. Well, unless she insisted I be buried in it—that’s totally something Camille would do. And then I’d just have to come back and haunt the wedding, and it would be a big mess. . . .”

  “You’re welcome.” He shot me a glance as he paused at a stop sign. “So what’s with you, anyway? You’re, like, extra weird today.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I laughed, unable to work up even a little bit of annoyance at him today. “If you really want to know, I’m in love! Well—at least in like.”

  “Really?” He returned his gaze to the road as he turned the corner. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

  “Rocco. Remember? You met him at the pool party.”

  “Oh, right. Rocco the Jocko. Your latest wedding date.”

  He didn’t sound particularly interested. Still, I couldn’t resist continuing. “He’s this total football stud, incredibly gorgeous . . .” I let out a happy sigh. “We went out last night and had such a good time.”

  I paused, waiting for the teasing to start. For once I didn’t even mind. After spending so much time with Jason lately, I was starting to feel almost fond of him.

  But Jason remained silent. He didn’t even look over at me.

  “Well?” I prompted. “Aren’t you going to make one of your snotty comments? Like, that I’d fall for a turnip if it had a cute butt? Anything? Anything? Bueller?”

  He finally glanced over. “Oh,” he said. “You mean a comment like, say, you have more dates than a Middle Eastern market?”

  I groaned. “Oh, please,” I teased. “You can do better than that. Come on—I have faith in you.”

  “Fine.” He sped up to make it through a yellow light. “Maybe I should say that they’re thinking of putting your picture next to the word ‘fickle’ in the dictionary.”

  “Ouch,” I said, annoyance breaking through my sunny mood at last. That one had been a little harsher than his usual type of comment.

  “Didn’t like that one, hmm? How about this one—your phone number is probably on every men’s room wall between here and New Jersey.”

  “Hey.” My giddy mood deflated like a child’s inflatable toy popped by a needle. A big, mean, obnoxious needle. Here I’d been expecting his usual goofy, SpongeBob-level teasing, and he was basically calling me a slut. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

  “Whatever,” he growled.

  There was a moment of tense silence in the car. It was interrupted by my cell phone going off.

  I grabbed it out of my purse. “Hello?”

  “Ava? I’m glad I reached you.” There was no mistaking Rocco’s deep, rumbling voice.

  “Rocco!” I smiled, tossing Jason a triumphant look. “What’s up?”

  “I need to see you,” he said, sounding kind of urgent. “Right away. It’s important.”

  “Really? You need to see me again?” I lifted one eyebrow slightly and shot another glance across the car. “Well, I’m going to King of Prussia to meet Teresa for lunch. Maybe we can meet up afterward?”

  “Um, okay, I guess,” he mumbled.

  “I’ll give you a call. Bye.” I hung up and tucked my phone away. “Well,” I said to the car at large. “I guess some people don’t think I’m so fickle.”

  He didn’t answer. I rolled my eyes. Obviously the tolerable time I’d had with him in South Philly had been a fluke. I must have been crazy to think it was a good thing Teresa had brought him home. At the moment I was more than ready for her to dump him and get him out of both our lives.

  Thirteen

  “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow,” I said for about the fifteenth time.

  Teresa glanced at her watch. “Nineteen hours and counting.”

  We were at our favorite sushi place at the mall. I’d arrived to find Teresa waiting for me outside of Neiman Marcus, where her mom had just dropped her off. It had been a relief to see her, especially after the last part of the drive with Jason. We’d barely said a word to each other while running Camille’s errand or on the ride up to the mall afterward. I was annoyed with him over what he’d said, and I could tell he was annoyed at me, too, though I had no idea why. I certainly hadn’t called him a slut.

  When he had pulled over to the curb, I’d expected him to try to horn in on our girls’ time by inviting himself along. That was the type of thing he always did, and today it would’ve had the bonus of getting back at me for whatever he thought I’d done or said. But he’d barely slowed down long enough for me to get out before peeling out again with just a quick wave to Teresa. I only hoped he’d remember to drop off the favors at my house as promised.

  I didn’t worry about his behavior for long, though. After all, with Teresa away I wasn’t going to have to see Jason for at least a month. Besides, I wasn’t about to let him ruin my last day with Teresa before her trip. We spent a while picking up a few last-minute things she needed, then headed to the sushi place for lunch.

  “But enough about my trip.” Teresa grabbed a piece of yellowtail with her chopsticks. “Tell me more about your date. I can’t believe you and Rocco made out!”

  “I know.” I shivered as I thought back. “It was amazing. You know how some guys are kind of, you know, selfish kissers?” For a second I flashed to an image of her and Jason making out. Not that I’d ever seen them do more than trade a good-bye peck on the lips—Teresa was private that way. “Um, anyway,” I continued, a little flustered. Why was I still wasting time thinking about Jason? “Rocco isn’t like that. He’s totally tender, and would sort of wait for me to take the lead sometimes, and . . .”

  I trailed off as I noticed that Teresa was staring over my shoulder toward the restaurant entrance. “Here’s Hot Lips now,” she said.

  “What?” I turned around in my seat. Sure enough, Rocco had just entered. His bulk practically filled the doorway as he stood there looking around. He was wearing a Nittany Lions T-shirt and an anxious expression.

  Then he spotted me. He waved to me, looking downright frantic now.

  “Wow,” I said, putting down my chopsticks. “He seemed kind of eager to see me again, but this . . .”

  Rocco moved surprisingly fast for such a big guy. He dodged between the tables and was at ours in seconds flat.

  “Ava,” he rumbled breathlessly. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”

  I wavered between being incredibly flattered and a tiny bit annoyed. “Um, I thought we were going to do something later,” I said. “Teresa and I—”

  He barely glanced at Teresa before stepping closer and reaching for my hand. “I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t wait until later,” he announced. “I had to talk to you now.”

  His deep voice was never particularly quiet, but it was rising dramatically with every word. I winced as people all over the quiet restaurant glanced our way in surprise.

  “What is it?” I hissed, as if talking more quietly myself might give him the hint.

  It didn’t. “There’s something I’ve never told anyone before,” he said, clutching my hand so tightly that it started to throb a little. “Something important that I wasn’t sure I was ready to handle.”

  “Uh-huh.” I was barely listening, all too aware that more eyes were on us with every word. I wasn’t the shy and retiring type, but it was still a bit embarrassing to have a guy about to loudly declare his love for me in front of a roomful of lunching ladies and hungry shoppers. Not to mention Teresa, who was still eating her sashimi and looking on with interest.

  Rocco took a deep breath, dropped my hand, and straightened up to his full, i
mpressive height. “Here goes,” he said. “I’m—gay.”

  I blinked. Whatever I’d been expecting him to say, that wasn’t it. “Um—huh—what?” I burbled, waiting for the punchline.

  “I’m gay,” he said again, then smiled. “Whew! That wasn’t as bad as I thought. I’m gay. I’m gay!”

  All around us, people were chuckling. The twentysomething couple at the next table started to clap, and within seconds the entire restaurant was applauding.

  Rocco grinned, looking sheepish as he glanced around. “Thanks,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt your meals.”

  “No problem, young man!” a dapper older gentleman at the sushi bar called out. He raised his glass in Rocco’s direction. “Welcome to the tribe.”

  “Wow,” Teresa said mildly. “That’s big news, Rocco. I had no idea.”

  “Nobody did, I guess.” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to tell my folks next. But I wanted to let Ava know first, since she was the one who—well, you know—helped me realize it.”

  “I did?” I was still stunned. Rocco the Jocko—gay? Okay, maybe there were a few little hints. Like the way he’d never seriously dated anyone in high school. Or the sweet, tender, caring way he’d kissed me last night . . . “Wait,” I blurted out. “You mean you realized it, um—when we, you know . . .”

  He pulled out one of the empty chairs at our table and perched on the edge of it, gazing at me earnestly. “I’ve been coming to terms with this for a long time now,” he said. “I just maybe wasn’t ready to accept it, you know? But when I kissed you last night, I finally had to face up to it. I was just trying too hard to be someone I’m not.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “And then I just felt too guilty hiding the truth from you—and the rest of the world—for one moment longer.” He glanced at Teresa again. “Sorry to mess up your good-bye lunch, T.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Teresa stood up and hurried around to give him a hug. “We totally understand. Right, Ava?”