She sighed. “You’re a good guy, Lucas, but you’re spoiled and arrogant and—”
“Hey!” I said.
She smiled sweetly. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. Everyone around you accepts that—your parents, your friends…me.” She tilted her head to the side. “It was nice seeing you with someone who gave as good as she got. Someone who looks at you and expects more from you.” She shrugged. “Like I said, she’s good for you.”
I gaped at her. She really thought Lola was good for me? “El, you’re like a saint. An angel. If anyone should be a good influence on me—”
Her groan cut me off as she rolled her eyes dramatically. “Lucas, no one is that nice, that’s just all you ever saw in me. Your nice, sweet, undemanding girlfriend.”
I scowled down at her. “That’s not true.”
Was it?
“You took me for granted,” she said quietly, without a hint of anger. “And I deserve better than that.”
Horror swept through me, not because her accusation was so horrendous but because I had the nagging feeling that it was spot-on.
She arched one brow, as though she could sense that she’d made her point. “I’m not saying you weren’t a good guy. It wasn’t like you treated me badly, or anything, you just…” She bit her lip.
“Just what, El?”
She sighed and gave me a sad little smile. “You’ve paid more attention to me since we’ve broken up than you ever did when we were together.”
My frown deepened as I digested her words, trying to figure out if they were the truth. But it wasn’t much of a debate. Eleanor wasn’t a liar and the truth was written all over her. Resignation, acceptance, and that hint of rueful humor that I’d never seen from her before.
Or maybe I’d just never noticed it before.
Eleanor reached a hand out and placed it on my good arm. “I’m just trying to say that I’m glad you met Lola.” She smiled. “You’re different around her. She makes you light up in a way that I never did.”
I wanted to argue with her but I couldn’t. I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what I was feeling for Lola but it wasn’t like anything I’d ever felt toward Eleanor. When I was around her, there was something electric between us. Something alive and filled with anticipation and excitement. I never knew what she was going to say next, and when she looked at me all I could think about was kissing her, holding her...making her laugh so I could see that smile.
“You need someone who makes you want to be better.” Eleanor’s eyes were so earnest I couldn’t even be offended. “You need to be with someone who expects better from you and who won’t settle for less.”
“What? I—I—” I was speechless.
Eleanor had never talked to me like this before. I studied her now with new eyes, and what I saw shocked me. She was different. She’d grown up and matured into someone I wasn’t entirely sure I knew.
“Look, Lucas,” she said. “I know you care about me.” She met my gaze evenly. “I know you love me even.”
Something inside me jerked awake at the word.
“As a friend,” she added softly.
As a friend. I waited for her words to slice through me. I waited to feel pain. I waited for…something,
I should argue with her. I should try to protest at the very least. After all, she was my girl. Mine. She wasn't supposed to be Ryan's. That was never the way it was supposed to be.
But I couldn't bring myself to say anything. I stood there silently, trying to make sense of what was going on inside me.
“I think you know that's true,” she said. “Even if you don't want to admit it.”
I let out a long exhale. I didn’t know how to respond to that, because I had a hunch that she was right. I’d barely given her a thought since Lola had come along. This whole past week I’d been so focused on texting Lola, waiting for her replies, waiting to see her again, replaying that kiss over and over again.
Lola had occupied my every thought.
My gaze drifted back toward the door but this time I focused on the sight before me. My heart stopped beating at the sight of Lola there in the doorway like I’d conjured her with thoughts of that kiss.
“You know what I want?” Eleanor asked beside me, but I barely heard her voice, I was too fixated on the girl in the door with the weird hair and the retro dress.
Lola hadn’t spotted me yet but she was there…and she was breathtaking.
Eleanor’s grip on my good arm tightened. “I want that.”
I snapped my gaze back to her and found that she was laughing. At me. Hell, what had she been saying? What she wanted… Eleanor was trying to tell me what it is that she wanted, what I was too much of a selfish, neglectful prick to give her.
I gave my head a little shake and focused on my ex. “Sorry, what do you want?”
She pointed directly in my face. “That,” she said again, emphasizing the word.
I blinked, uncomprehending.
Eleanor widened her eyes as she looked between me and the doorway where I had no doubt Lola still stood. “You never once looked at me like that.”
I frowned. Was that true? How had I looked at Eleanor?
Better question, how had I been looking at Lola?
Like a lovestruck moron, no doubt. I might not have been the most attentive boyfriend or the most perceptive guy, in general, but I had some semblance of self-awareness. When she walked in that door, I’d gaped at Lola like I was stranded in a desert and she was a giant drinking fountain.
Eleanor moved her hand down so she could hold mine. “And I deserve that, Lucas.”
I had no idea what to say.
She did. Of course she did. I took a deep breath. “And Ryan, he, uh…he looks at you like that?”
Like a dumbass who’d been hit upside the head?
She nodded, her eyes getting all warm and mushy at the thought of it, apparently. “He does.”
I gave her hand a squeeze. “Then I’m glad, and I guess…” Oh hell, this hurt to say. I cleared my throat. “Then I guess I’m happy for you too.” I met her gaze evenly. “You deserve to be happy.”
She smiled up at me. “You do too, Lucas.” Her gaze moved past me and then back. “Now go tell Lola how you feel about her and try not to screw it up.”
I started to laugh but then I looked over to where Lola stood and our eyes connected.
She was watching me. She was watching Eleanor. She was watching us together…and I knew what was going on in her head.
I was too far away to see the emotions in her eyes. But I knew. I just knew…and I hated it. I seemed to be frozen in place for some reason, watching her watching us.
But then she turned around and she started to go back out the way she'd come in, and that was enough to jar me into action. I dropped Eleanor’s hand and ran through the crowd in her direction. “Lola. Wait!”
I was only dimly aware of Eleanor calling out behind me. “Good luck.”
Luck. I didn't need luck. I never needed luck. All I needed was…Lola.
I shook off the thought. What I meant was, I had to make things right. I had to apologize for being a jerk earlier today. She may have annoyed the crap out of me, but she hadn’t deserved that.
I caught up to her just as she’d reached the front steps of the porch. “Lola,” I said, stopping with a hand on her arm. “You made it.” I didn't know why my voice sounded winded. I’d just cut across a party, I hadn’t run a marathon.
Holy crap. I needed to get in better shape before next season.
Her gaze shifted away from mine. “Yup, I made it.” Her voice was even and unreadable.
She shoved her glasses up her nose in a gesture that was so nerdy it made me grin. “I didn't think you were coming.”
Her eyes met mine as if she was trying to read something there. “Yeah, well…” She rubbed at her arms. Her winter coat was as old-fashioned as everything else she sported and it looked like it wasn’t nearly warm enough for this level of cold.
> We were both rudely jostled by a drunk couple, who were laughing as they stumbled their way up the porch stairs and past us to the door.
“Don’t go anywhere,” I said.
She didn’t respond so I ran into the house, into the room where the coats were stashed, and snatched up two as quickly as I could, worried that she’d be gone by the time I returned.
She was still there, though she looked like she wanted to be anywhere else as she shifted from foot to foot. “Here,” I said, thrusting a large down coat into her hands, slipping my good arm into the other and pulling it over my sling.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“A jacket so you don’t freeze to death.”
She frowned down at it like she’d never seen a synthetic material before. “Is it yours?”
“Nope.” Neither was the one I’d thrown on myself.
She frowned at me. “You’re stealing people’s coats?”
I rolled my eyes. “We’ll give them back, Lola.”
She looked unconvinced but she slipped the coat over her own jacket and was promptly swallowed up by it. She looked a hell of a lot warmer though.
I took her by the elbow and steered her down the front porch steps to the front yard. I'd been to Blake’s plenty of times, mostly for parties—often enough to know the good hiding spots.
Of course, I was usually going there to make out, not talk, but it would still serve its purpose. We needed to talk and I didn’t want it to be anywhere near Eleanor or Blake or any of the others.
I took her to the white gazebo that was tucked into the tree line, hidden from sight and mercifully clear of horny classmates.
When we were standing there facing one another, I finally spoke again. “You made it.”
It was an idiotic thing to say the first time I'd said it, and it was no less stupid the second time, but it was all I could think to say. It was all that was running through my head.
Lola was here. She was here.
I expected her to mock me. Hell, I deserved to be mocked. But she just pressed her lips together and I could see that she was nibbling on the inside of her cheek, still trying to figure out what to say. Finally, she let out a loud huff of air, and tilted her head back so she could face me head on.
Strong. No nonsense. That was Lola.
“I thought about what you said.” She gave her glasses another shove along with a sniff. “And I guess maybe you were right.” Her eyes flicked to the side before meeting mine again, and I could see just how much it pained her to admit that I was right about something. Anything.
I didn’t know what to say in response. I knew I was right, but I’d been harsh. I also knew that. My pride had been stinging, and I stupidly took it out on her, calling her out the way she’d done to me.
Because the truth was, I didn't want her to think of me as just another popular drone. I didn't want her to think of me as just some other guy.
I wanted her to think of me as…what?
I didn't know.
She started speaking and I didn't have to think about it anymore.
“We moved around a lot,” she said suddenly, stiffly.
I nodded. “Yeah, you mentioned something about being a military brat.”
“Yeah, well, some people find it easier to fit in than others, I guess.” She stopped and licked her lips.
I tried not to groan. Her lips were a berry red temptation, but I resisted their siren call.
“After a while it just seemed easier not to try,” she said. “It was easier to just be me and not worry about what anyone else thought.”
I tried to imagine a life in which I just did my thing and didn’t think about how it looked, or what people thought. “That takes guts.”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Sometimes.” She pressed her lips together as if what she was about to say was difficult. Like she didn’t want to say it. She let out a little sigh before continuing. “But other times it’s easier to avoid people. Being so noticeably different, not fitting in…it’s a great way to hide in plain sight.” She met my gaze. “You were right. Sometimes it’s easier to hide behind how different I am than join the human race.” She looked up with a self-deprecating little smile, and her expression was so vulnerable I just wanted to pull her into my arms and hold her tight. I shoved my free hand into my pocket to keep from doing just that.
I glanced down at the skirt that peeked out from beneath the oversized down coat and the grandma shoes beneath that. “Speaking of different.”
That perked her up, like I’d hoped. I loved that vulnerable side of her but it also terrified me. It hit me like a physical blow, somewhere too close to my heart. It was new territory for us. It was intimate and personal and…scary as all hell.
The arch look she gave me now was far more characteristic of our past interactions. “If you were expecting that I was going to show up here wearing some Zara dress and with my hair blown out, you were sadly mistaken. This is not Grease, and I am no Sandy.”
A gust of wind whipped one of her old-fashioned curls into her face and she pushed it back. “I like my clothes, and dancing and old movies. That’s me. It’s who I am. I’ll admit that sometimes I push people away, and maybe I’m too quick to judge, but that doesn’t change who I am.”
“A freak,” I said.
She gave a short nod of affirmation. “That’s right. I’m not cool, and I never will be.”
I wanted to burst out laughing because she just didn’t get it. The fact that she didn’t care what anyone thought made her the coolest girl I knew. I didn’t tell her that, though. I’d let her figure that out on her own. Besides, something told me that conversation would lead us back to that too-personal zone, the one I couldn’t handle right now. Not until I figured some things out.
Instead, I said, “What’s Grease?”
Her eyes widened instantly. “Are you kidding me? You don’t know what Grease is? It’s only one of the best musicals of our time.”
“Correction,” I said. “It’s not of our time. Not in any way, shape, or form. It’s a play from the seventies about some kids in the fifties.”
Those widened eyes narrowed now with suspicion. “So you are familiar with it?”
I scoffed. “Of course. My mom loved that one, she used to make my brother and me watch it with her all the time.”
She smacked my good arm. Hard.
I leaned down and added, “Don’t tell anyone.”
I watched her stifle a laugh before she gave me a too-innocent smile and spoke so loudly the neighbors could probably hear her over the thud of the music. “Don’t tell anyone what? That you love Grease, the musical?”
I slapped my free hand over her mouth and effectively smothered her laugh.
“You’re a lunatic,” I said when I dropped my hand, but I was smiling, and it felt like the first time I’d smiled all night.
“Yeah, but that’s why you like me,” she said, with a funny, over-the-top sigh. “I add a little crazy to your sane world.” Her voice was teasing, but she was right. When she’d arrived at the door she’d been a splash of color against a backdrop of black and greys. Her laugh was real and too loud, her style eccentric, and her lipstick color choice bold. Nothing about this girl fit it, especially not her personality.
And I wouldn’t have her any other way.
“Well,” I said after I’d accidentally let the silence grow awkward. “I'm glad you're here tonight.”
She ducked her head. “I didn’t know…er, that is…” She shuffled her feet, watching their movements like she needed to keep track or they’d run off without her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt things between you and Eleanor.”
“You didn’t,” I said quickly. Too quickly judging by the way she looked up at me.
I cleared my throat and shoved my free hand into my borrowed jacket’s pocket to keep from waving it around awkwardly. “We were just talking about how our respective dates couldn’t make it.”
Lola bit her lip and re
leased it quickly. “Ryan’s not coming?”
I shook my head.
She started to back away from me. “Then I really shouldn’t have come.”
I followed her as she shuffled backwards, afraid she’d topple down the gazebo stairs if she didn’t stop.
“This is the perfect opportunity, right?” she asked.
It took a second for me to get her meaning.
“If you’re waiting for your chance to make your move…” Lola gestured back toward the house where Eleanor was alone and drinking, and needing someone to kiss at midnight. “This is it.”
She was right. Of course she was right. But even before my chat with Eleanor, it hadn’t even occurred to me.
The full weight of everything Eleanor had said hit me square in the chest with the weight of a cement block. I may have even made an oof noise as I slapped my free hand over my solar plexus.
“You should go to her,” Lola said.
Was it my imagination or had her voice gone breathy?
She wouldn’t meet my eyes as she took another half step back. “You should go,” she said again. This time it sounded like she was trying to convince herself as well as me.
That hint of vulnerability, the little tell that maybe she wasn’t all that keen on the idea of me going after Eleanor gave met the jolt I needed to finally respond.
“I don’t want to,” I said.
Her gaze finally met mine. “What?”
“I don’t want to,” I repeated, slower this time and with all the confidence I felt. It was the truth. I didn’t want Eleanor right now.
“Then what do you want?” she asked. Oh hell, her voice was sexy when she was all breathless like this.
You. That was what I kept thinking but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. This was all new. Yeah, Eleanor might have been right about some of the stuff she’d said, but I needed to figure it out first. I’d been hell-bent on getting my ex back right up until ten minutes ago, my brain couldn’t catch up to the one-eighty my heart had just done.
The Candy Cane Kiss: Briarwood High Series Page 11