by Anne Eliot
I get a surge of anger at Dad for calling the project ridiculous, when in fact, he’s never taken the time to find out how cool it actually is. I grit my teeth to keep my voice steady as I say, “That’s the plan, Dad. This storm’s going to put us ahead of schedule which will let me get it done fast and focus. I want to be ready for the playoffs this weekend, you know?”
“That’s my boy!” He’s shouting that out to his friends more than to me. “Wants to focus for the playoffs and do school work during the snow day! Chip off the old block.”
“See you tomorrow night, then?”
He goes for it, hook-line-and-sinker. “Yeah. Probably around 10PM if I can get a seat on standby. If not, it could be another day.”
“Good luck, Dad.” I’m already praying that this storm is so huge it shuts down airports for days and days.
“You too, son. Sounds like you’ve got everything in order. Make sure there are no shenanigans or anything broken or stolen out of our house. Let me talk to your mom again. Sleep with one eye open. These kids are not from our neighborhood.”
My anger fades and becomes a heavy wall of sadness that I try to release with a sigh. No matter how much I wish things—he—could change or be different, I think my parents are always going to be stuck up, elitist jerks.
I don’t answer. Instead I let Ellen’s soothing voice come into my head: You aren’t at all like your parents.
As I hand the phone back to Mom and recover Coco back into my arms, I’m watching Patrick, Laura and Ellen come up our front steps through our crystal and rod-iron front door.
Patrick’s like some kind of giant Sherpa. He’s holding what looks like everyone’s sleeping bags, as well as what appears to be everyone’s backpacks. Laura’s laughing at him and tugging at some of the stuff as if she’d like to help, but Patrick’s not budging, of course.
Ellen looks like she’s puffing a bit from exertion. I guess the curving concrete steps that lead down to our driveway were a bit much for her. Luckily they’re heated so there’s no worry that she’d slip on any ice. Tomorrow, I’ll be sure to walk her out the back because there are only two steps back there—also heated concrete—then a gently curving pathway that leads down to the extra garage where Dad parks his golf cart. If it’s too icy to drive that thing down to the grove, I’m going to have to carry her on my back again. I hope she’s going to be okay with that, because if there’s any ice, I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
Right now they’re sheltered from the ongoing storm under our wide, covered stone porch. Ellen’s big dark eyes seem to be going over the ornate cut glass design that makes up the huge circle of glass art recessed high above our front door like she’s really curious about it.
And after speaking to my dad, my heart floods with worry. She suddenly seems smaller than ever. More breakable than the hand blown crystals she’s staring at, and as always, more beautiful and captivating than any girl I’ve ever known.
Mom, hanging up the phone, is watching them as well. “Before we let them in, I want you to know I’m on to your crush, and I’ll not have you misbehaving.”
I flush beet red and almost puke. “What? Mom!”
She’s got her hands on her hips and she’s nodding like she does when she’s caught me eating Nutella with a spoon. “That’s right. So don’t think I’m going to let you and that Irish girl be alone for even a second, got me? This is a chaperoned sleep over. I promised her Aunt Judith and I spoke with Ellen’s mom as well. It’s going to be girls in the basement and boys up in your room. Do you hear me?”
“Mom. This isn’t 1950. We aren’t going to do anything.”
“Yeah, because you and that other boy will be in your bedroom and the girls will be in the basement.”
I swallow, still freaking out and wondering if my mom’s going to say crazy things to Laura London. Then I don’t have to wonder, because it’s my mom! She says crazy things to everyone. She goes on, “Ah ha! Look at your cute, red face going redder and redder. I knew it! You were hoping for a first kiss, weren’t you? But you need to wait a little longer because I am just not at all ready! Oh my, but I guess it’s inevitable eventually, isn’t it?” She laughs a little and I die a lot. “Maybe you can hold her hand—if I’m not around. But that’s it!”
My queasy feeling gets worse. “Mom! Please don’t say anything else. And don’t you dare say anything to Laura. Or Ellen. Or Patrick. Just please.”
She laughs more like I’m some sort of adorable puppy and ruffles my hair!
I shake my head to dislodge her hand, but I don’t meet her gaze because I’m scared to death that woman’s going to see tiny rewound movies of me and Ellen making out down by the lake!
“Open the door and then…please go away,” I go on. “They can see us standing here talking.”
Mom sighs, still grinning. “Okay. Okay. I get it. Lucky for you I’ve got ten books waiting to be read. I don’t need you kids. I’ve got a date with sexy Mr. Kindle Fire.”
“Shoot me. Please. You’re so embarrassing.”
She opens the door and Laura tumbles in first. Without waiting for an introduction, Laura tornadoes all over my mom. “Hullo. I’m Laura London. So pleased to meet you. You’ve got a lovely home. More like a church or some sort of Canadian castle though, isn’t it? And by the stars you’re as pretty as your boyo-Camden, aren’t you? The leaf didn’t fall far from your tree, because you two have got the same heart-stopping and gorgeous eyes.” Before Mom can answer, Laura’s eyes go to the wall of windows and just like that, she’s off across the room, running and shouting. “By the saints and the Holy Mother herself, would you look at the view of the lake from this place!”
Mom, who’s obviously been so immediately charmed by her accent that she hasn’t even noticed Ellen and Patrick at all, tosses me this little knowing look and stalks after Laura to join her at the windows. I hear her say, “Laura London, is it? Well you’ve got a very cute name. And quite pretty eyes yourself. Tell me about you. Do you know much about Canada or the Great Lakes?”
And then I hear nothing else. Because I’ve reached my hand out to help Ellen up the last step into my house and she’s squeezing my hand back just how I’m squeezing hers. It’s warm and trembling and her eyes meet mine with this look and a small blush that I think says something about how we’ve kissed each other way more than once. I’m trying to hide the expression that wonders just how and when we might have the chance to try that again.
“Hey.” I smile, fielding a small tolerant looking ‘get-a-room’ type grimace from Patrick and add, “Welcome to my dad’s lake side museum.”
“Holy crap, dude!” Patrick does a long, low whistle. “Laura was right. This place is like some freaky church.”
“Tell me about it. When you get farther in you’ll notice the only God in this place is football, though. Little trophies, statues and shrines to it all over.”
Patrick drops all the stuff in the entrance way with a clunk. “I can’t believe you talked me into a sleep over. Haven’t done one of these since middle school.”
“It’s for the project,” I say.
“Speak for yourself,” he mutters, eyes tracking Laura as she skips around my living room. She’s grabbing up art objects that no one’s allowed to touch and then dropping them back down like she’s shopping at a yard sale. My mom, thankfully, is not offended because I can hear her laughing and laughing. Leave it to Ireland to charm the dragon.
Patrick’s also watching Laura with these sappy cow eyes and says, “I’m here to protect the two women I love more than life itself.”
Ellen rolls her eyes and grins over at me. “I’m here to protect Laura London from him.” Her eyes settle on Coco.
“Is that a dog you’re holding?”
“Sort of. More of a pure bred, fluff ball. I wanted a German Shepherd, Mom got me t
his because she doesn’t shed. I tried not to love her but it was pretty much impossible.” I hold up Coco. “Because look at her face. See?”
“Aww. I’ve got a little cinnamon-colored Chihuahua. He’s what I call ugly-cute, but about the same size.”
Ellen smiles while Patrick grimaces. “Dude, I have no words for that cupcake hamster dog. Ellen’s is at least a dude and chases the mailman, but that little white dog is horrible. Bichon sounds like food. And its name is Coco? Have you no worry about what that dog might do to your man-rep?”
I laugh, tucking Coco back under my arm. “Ellen, do you think she ruins my image?”
Ellen flushes and steps forward to pet Coco. She shakes her head but doesn’t answer. The smile inside her eyes that says she likes me—whatever dog I have—is all that I need to see. “That reminds me. Before my mom gets back here, I need you both to know that my mom thinks I’ve got a crush on Laura London not on Ellen, so be prepared for some very serious messed up comments. I hope you don’t mind.”
“What? Why?” Patrick asks.
“I brought Laura up—I brought all of you up when the project was assigned—and they just assumed by how much I was talking about you all that I liked this ‘new Irish girl’.”
“Because they assumed, of course, that you couldn’t like the old handicapped girl?” Ellen asks softly, pulling her hand away from Coco’s half-asleep face.
“No. Of course not!” I breathe in, starting off with a truth. “It was because I wanted to protect you. They do this smothering thing and you simply don’t deserve their stupid microscope tunnel vision.” Then I head into the lie. “My parents of course wouldn’t care if you were a handicapped girl, or a girl who did the hula, or—anything like that—at all, ever!”
I’m now so thankful that Dad’s out of town. I’m also praying my ass off that Mom doesn’t skip back over here with Laura and shout out all the wrong things in front of Ellen.
Patrick nods, and points over at Laura. “So…what’s going on there is some sort of private future girlfriend interview? I was starting to wonder, but now I get it. And now I believe it.”
Ellen and I follow Patrick’s point just in time to see Mom start to show Laura London each and every baby photo that she’s ever framed.
“Poor girl,” Patrick adds. “You should have warned her with a text.”
Ellen laughs. “She doesn’t seem to mind.”
“Because she’s perfect,” Patrick whispers.
Ellen smiles and socks Patrick in the arm. “It’s kind of funny, actually.”
I shake my head. “It’s not. And I apologize about all of it. I’m going to try to clear that communication breach by tomorrow. Okay? I really want to tell my mom that you and I are going out before you leave here. And then based on Mom’s advice on how to handle things, I’ll tell my dad as soon as he gets to town. Is that cool? I can’t have you thinking I’m ashamed of you or something when you know I’m not.”
Ellen laughs. “How about you tell them both…next week.”
“Why?” I frown. “Are you ashamed of me?”
“No—how about you tell her on a night I’m not going to be sleeping over at least? Would you mind? I don’t really want the extra scrutiny when we’re supposed to be totally focused on the project today and tomorrow. I haven’t even told my mom and Nash yet. I was going to do it this weekend after we have the WOA photos all loaded and done. Is that okay? I can only handle one huge thing at a time.”
He smiles. “Okay. The big reveal can happen after the game on Saturday. After I win the game and my dad can’t say you’re messing with my head, that is.”
Patrick snorts. “After we both win the game, you mean? Maybe by then Laura will be over that Casper dude, and you and I can do a public announcement together. Get the coach to video us down on one knee in front of our women because I refuse to buy into the zero-dating rule for the rest of this football season or ever again.”
“Yes!” I’m smiling, but I get that Patrick’s understanding just how much back up I’m going to need when my dad and coach find out I’ve got a girlfriend. When they hear I also have zero intentions of breaking up with her for the rest of the season or ever again, I’m pretty much dead.
Ellen bumps me slightly in the shoulder. “How about, eew? You two are ridiculous. Don’t you dare make any sort of public spectacle about us dating.”
I laugh, wishing I could pull her into my arms. Instead I whisper, “I can’t believe I get to hang out with you all night but I can’t even kiss you.” Patrick gag-coughs, and I switch back to a normal voice before saying, “I mean all of you guys—it’s going to be so cool—and tomorrow promises to be even better.”
Ellen beams. “I’m so excited about the storm I can hardly breathe every time I think about it. Do you think the ropes are holding in the wind?”
I nod. “Way ahead of you. I’ve already checked. They’re fine.”
She gives me this look that makes me want to run out and check them again, just so she will repeat this same expression of you’re the-best-boyfriend all over again.
Mom and Laura are in the kitchen, arms looped through each others. Mom shouts out, “Cam, I simply adore this girl. Bring the other kids over here so I can get a good look at how they’ve grown up. Hello, Ellen, and hello, Patrick. How rude of me to walk away so quickly, but now that I have, I’m going to order you all some pizza. Does Ellen—do you have—you know? Any special needs or dietary constraints?”
“Hi, Mrs. Campbell,” Patrick shouts out, rolling his eyes toward Ellen. “I’m a vegetarian, so no meat for me please.”
“Oh. Okay.” Mom blinks like she’s surprised.
“Hi,” says Ellen in an over-cheery voice but it’s not lost on me that she had to unclench her teeth to speak. “I eat everything so anything’s good.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“I’m used to that. Whatever,” she whispers back.
“Where should I put their things?” I ask, grabbing up sleeping bags. Patrick copies me.
I raise a brow at Patrick. “So it’s okay with you if my mom tries to blatantly set me up with Laura London? I don’t need you kicking my ass over a girl I think is not safe for anyone to date.”
Ellen laughs, the shadows slipping away from her face as quickly as they came. “He’s right, Patrick. We are only trying to protect you. If you kiss her too many times you might end up swallowing glitter and get some sort of lead poisoning.”
Patrick laughs. “Totally fine. And if I die from glitter off Laura London, then I’ve died a happy man. Sadly, she’s made it pretty clear she’s going to stay single for the rest of her life despite our amazing kiss, so until she agrees dating me for real might be a good idea, she’s on her own.”
“I’m warning you, my mom is a nut.”
Ellen laughs. “This is going to be so funny.”
I swallow. “No, it’s not. It’s also up to you two to get my mom’s claws off Laura right now and let her know what my mom thinks, or Ireland’s going to let it slip that we made out down at the beach and at the bonfire and then—”
Ellen pulls in a breath and Patrick’s ripping apart our hands. “Wait. What? You kissed at the bonfire?”
Ellen flushes and nods.
“Seriously? You didn’t tell me? What kind of crap best-friend rule book did you read, Ellen, because the one I’ve got has way different chapters as to how information is supposed to be handed over.”
“He didn’t kiss me,” Ellen whispers. “I kissed him. Three times. Besides, you never really told me the details of your kiss with Laura beyond stating that it was amazing-earth-shattering and perfect. Laura told me that it went far beyond normal kissing, and that your hands moved all over her and way too fast, yet you said only it was a simple kiss where you were you helping her erase the memo
ries of Casper! Do you want me to tell you how Cam’s lips are absolutely—”
Patrick puts his hands up to his ears just as I shout, “Hold up! Everyone. Easy on the public details!”
“Right. Sorry.” Ellen’s turned bright red.
I run my hand through my hair before dropping my voice to a whisper, “This is so awkward and I sure don’t want you two swapping details about us kissing—not on this level—not on any level.”
Patrick pulls his hands away from his ears, flushing as well. “Well…yeah…fine. Dude. I see your point. The four of us are all just a bit too close these days, aren’t we? Maybe we need to adjust some.”
“Yup.” Ellen laughs.
“It will work itself out,” I say, smiling at Ellen. “Now can we set up things in the basement and save Ireland from my mom? Do you think you can handle the stairs while Patrick and I haul all the stuff?” She rolls her eyes like she’s annoyed that I’ve asked that question so I quickly go on, thinking of things that will bring her smile back, “There’s a sliding glass door down there that leads to a little patio garden with a few trees and shrubs. All within easy reach so we can—”
Ellen claps her hands together. “Measure how thick the ice is already freezing over the plants?” Her grin returns full force, those dark eyes sparkling with contagious excitement.
I grin. “Exactly!”
“Let’s go!”
ellen
The boys were sent upstairs by Cam’s mom at least an hour ago and Laura and I are all alone in a basement that seems bigger than our school’s gym! Only, unlike the gym, this place is all carpeted with this perfectly soft and cozy—thicker than I’ve ever felt—beige carpet. We could have slept on that just fine, but Cam insisted on pushing the eight or so cube-shaped padded seating things that were staged all around the huge room into couches that line the walls near the flat screen. When it was all set up, he covered the whole thing with this really comfortable, custom made pad he got out of a special closet behind the ‘wine cellar’ area. An area off to the side, behind the bar and the pool table area, that is.