In This Moment (In Plain Sight Book 3)

by Amy Sparling

  She doesn’t make eye contact with me as she walks down the aisle and toward her desk. Just before she sits down, she slaps a paper on my desk.

  “Morning,” I say, but as I expect, I don’t get a reply.

  She sits down, leaving a wake of strawberry goodness behind her. I breathe it in slowly, remembering how it felt to be next to her at the beach. To have her in my lap. To have her lips next to mine.

  I look down at the paper.

  Greenhouse Supplies is written on top, followed by a list of supplies and quantities. At the bottom she’s written, Estimated total: $450

  Damn.

  I have the money, which is good, but that’s nearly all of my savings. I lean forward and say, “I’ll get right on this.”

  She doesn’t reply. Doesn’t shake her head or even acknowledge that she heard me.

  Clarissa Vale is back to being that cold girl she was on the first day of school.

  *

  Coach calls my name as I’m walking to my truck at the end of the day. I stop and turn around, almost wondering if I was hearing things. Coach has no reason to talk to me now. He’s standing there at the end of the gym, hands on his hips. He motions for me.

  I walk over there, totally not in the mood to be reamed by yet another person. My friends have shut me out, Clarissa has shut me out, and my parents are in some battle with each other that I want no part of.

  “Yes, Coach?” I say, wondering what you’re supposed to call a coach who isn’t your coach anymore.

  “I’m disappointed, Voss.”

  His lips press together into a thin line as he looks me over, disbelief and regret all over his face. I know he’s probably thinking that I’m the only straight A student on the team. That I’m the only good one. Well, not anymore.

  “Me too, sir.” I sigh. “I don’t even know what got into me. I don’t know why. It was reckless and stupid.”

  “I know you weren’t alone.” He looks me in the eyes, giving me that same look he gives us right before we start a game against our rival team. “If you tell us who helped you, I can talk to the principal. I can try to get you reinstated.”

  “And kick the other guy off the team?” I say with a snort. “No thanks. I can’t be a snitch.”

  “So it was another member of the team?” Coach says. I cringe. I’ve already said too much. “Someone’s alibi was faked. Good to know that I have two liars on my team”

  “Coach…it’s shitty, I know. And I know it doesn’t even matter anymore, but I was the one trying to stop it at first. The other guy deserves the worst punishment. Or at least equal,” I say with a grimace. “But trust me. I’ve learned my lesson.”

  “Tell me who it is,” he says. “I’ll work with you. Try to get you back on.”

  I shake my head. TJ would kill me. He’s not even a good friend, so I have no idea why I’ve got his back. Or maybe I do know. It’s because we’re a team. If I betray one of them, I betray all of them. And right now, they’re all I’ve got.

  Even though I’m pretty sure I’ve lost them, too.

  “Sorry, Coach. I can’t ruin my life more than I have.”

  I leave and he doesn’t stop me. I get in my truck and head straight home, grab my cash out from under my carpet, and then go to the nearest Home Depot. I buy everything on Clarissa’s list and get one of the workers to help me load it up in my truck.

  While my old team is still having soccer practice, I drive my truck to the place where the greenhouse used to be. I back in, parking on the grass, and then one by one, I take out all of the green paneling, wooden beams, latches, screws, and nails. I take out the door hinges and the clay pots and I set it all down neatly.

  Then, although I’m sweating my ass off, I load up all of the wreckage of what used to be the greenhouse. I see now, in the bright light of day, that these are new panels, too. Some even have the price stickers still on them. The wood is clean, the nails shiny, not rusted. This wasn’t some old shack like I thought it was when I was here in the middle of the night.

  Clarissa put time into making this, and I ruined it.

  I haul the broken parts to the dump on my way to work. And even though I know she won’t reply back, I take a photo of the materials and send it to her.

  Me: I got everything on the list.

  Chapter 15

  Gavin texts me again. I know it’s him before I look at my phone, because the only person who talks to me most of the time is Livi, and she uses Snapchat instead of texts.

  Gavin has texted me every day, but only once per day. It’s kind of weird how he’s so persistent. If he thinks he’ll get forgiveness, he’s dead wrong.

  I pick up my phone. The last few days have been a one sided conversation.

  Gavin: Clarissa, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have lied.

  Gavin: I know I can’t explain in a way that will make it up to you, but please talk to me.

  Gavin: If I had any idea that was your greenhouse, I wouldn’t have touched it. Will you talk to me?

  And now, one more text today. There are no words, just a picture of a pile of greenhouse supplies on the ground. From first glance, it looks like he did buy everything I told him to. Good. I hope it was expensive.

  I gnaw on the inside of my lip. Although I do plan to avoid him for the rest of my life, this is something that needs to be done. I text him back.

  Me: When can we get started?

  At first, I’d written you, as in when can you get started. Then I realized I have to be there. I have to supervise and help and lead the entire project if I want it to turn out right. This is the part I don’t think I can handle—being around him for hours, days on end, rebuilding something my grandfather had helped me build the first time.

  When my grandpa had given me that tulip bulb, Livi had suggested that I treat Gavin as if he were an anonymous contractor who had been hired to help me. If I spend the whole time pretending he’s just a stranger, then maybe I can get through it.

  I had fully planned on cancelling the entire thing and just lying to my grandpa forever until he brought me that tulip. I can’t do that to him. I can’t do it to my grandma’s memory. This greenhouse needs to rise again.

  So I send the stupid text and I tell myself Gavin is just a contractor, just hired help, a total stranger. To make myself believe the lie even more, I delete our chain of texts and then rename him in my contacts list. Now, instead of Gavin, he is Contractor.

  It doesn’t make me feel much better seeing his name like that.

  Contractor: Soon, I promise.

  Me: You can’t give me a date?

  Contractor: I’m scheduled to work several days in a row, but as soon as I’m off, I’ll be there.

  Me: Okay.

  Contractor: Could we meet? Have coffee? Talk?

  I ignore it. A contractor worth his salt would only care about the job, not taking his clients out to coffee. And from now on, that’s all Gavin is to me.

  I throw the phone back on my bed and I go back to reading a book I’d checked out from the library this morning. It’s a teen fantasy novel with dragons and princesses and a handsome vigilante guy with a sword and a penchant for danger. There’s magic and beautiful landscapes and castles. I’d hoped I could slip into this fantasy world and forget all about the real world at home. It works for a just a little bit, and then my phone rings.

  Seriously? It’s after nine on a school night. Gavin is getting really annoying if he’s switched from texting to calling me.

  But the number on the screen isn’t the “contractor”. It’s Shawn.

  My freaking ex.

  The last time I spoke to him was when he was breaking up with me. I cried, and he apologized. He … apologized. He said he felt bad and that I was a really nice person. He also said he just couldn’t date someone as tall as me.

  I think we might have even agreed to the pathetically impossible notion of “staying friends”. Of course, I knew we wouldn’t. No one stays friends with their ex, especially after the
ex in question starts dating a much more beautiful and shorter girl immediately after dumping you.

  Still, it’s kind of weird.

  “Hello?” I say timidly, wondering if I should even bother talking to him.

  “Hey, Rissa.” His voice is easy going, laid back. Same ol’ Shawn. Although I feel like telling him my name is Clarissa and only good friends get to shorten it like that. He dumped me, therefore we are not good friends anymore.

  But I don’t. I take the high road and say civil.

  “Um, what’s up?”

  “Not much,” he says. His voice is like a slap of nostalgia straight in my face. I’m suddenly thrown back in time, talking to him in this same place in my bedroom, at this same late time, just like I did three months ago.

  “So listen, Rissa, um, I just had this question.”

  “Okay…” I say. He almost sounds nervous, but that can’t possibly be right.

  “I just heard some stuff lately, and I was curious to know if you’re dating Gavin Voss now?”

  I nearly choke on my own spit. I’m not sure if this is hilarious or terrifying or both. “Why?” I say, smiling so it sounds like I’m not as depressed as I am. “Are you jealous?”

  “So you are dating him?”

  I snort. “Who told you that?”

  “Just heard it around. Like, that ya’ll are dating now or hanging out or something.”

  I stare up at my ceiling as I lay on my bed. This is actually funny, now that I think about it. I am almost positive he’s jealous. Shawn, while totally hot and fairly popular, isn’t exactly on the same rung as Gavin on the popularity ladder. He’s probably several steps below. So even though I hate Gavin, Shawn clearly doesn’t know that, and the opportunity to make him feel crappy in a way he’s made me feel lately is just too good to pass up.

  “Wow, that’s so weird,” I say slowly. “I mean, I’m like a nobody in that school, but I start hanging out with the famous Gavin Voss and now people are talking about me.”

  “So, you are together?”

  “Shawn, I’m surprised that you even care. I mean…you broke up with me.”

  “I don’t care. I mean, it’s not a big deal, Rissa. I just heard some stuff and I was curious. I’m actually dating someone now, too, so it’s all good.”

  I take a shuddering breath. I know he has a girlfriend, but hearing him say it just hurts me in this weird way. It shouldn’t. And I’m over him. And it’s all old freaking news. But it still hurts. I still feel rejected, not good enough, and worst of all, I feel pathetically, freakishly tall.

  Maybe if things were different, and if Gavin hadn’t been a massive douchebag who lied to me, then maybe I’d feel on top of the world right now. If things were still good with him like they’d been that night we went on a date, maybe I’d laugh at Shawn and let him know how wonderfully happy I am. But that’s not life, not now, not for me.

  “Well, if you’re happy then I’m happy for you, Shawn.” It’s the fakest voice I’ve ever had, but he seems to buy it.

  “Thanks, Rissa. I’m happy for you, too. Gavin is a cool guy and he’s like really tall so he’s good for you.”

  I grit my teeth together. God forbid you date someone because you like them, not because of their height. Instead of telling him to fuck off, I force myself to laugh. “I don’t know what rumors you heard, but I’m not dating Gavin. I mean, hooking up with someone isn’t commitment, you know?”

  I feel so dirty saying it, talking like I’m this badass girl who dates around and doesn’t get her heart broken. But I want him to feel a little tug of jealously, the same tug I get when I see him with Mindy.

  “Cool, cool,” he says quickly. “I feel you.”

  “Good talk,” I say, and then I tell him goodbye.

  My hands shake as I put the phone down and let my mind replay that stupid conversation a million times. Shawn clearly has old information about me and Gavin. Or maybe Gavin just hasn’t told any of his friends that I hate him now. If he couldn’t tell me the truth, then he probably lies to his friends too. He probably lies to everyone.

  Even an hour after that phone call is over, I’m still in bed, staring hopelessly at the ceiling. My life feels like a rollercoaster lately. First, I was so happy with Shawn my first real boyfriend. Then he dumped me, and I went swooping down that metaphorical roller coaster. Then Grandpa and I built the greenhouse and I felt better about myself. I had a purpose and a mission. Then it was destroyed. Another hill on the roller coaster.

  Then that date with Gavin brought me up the tracks to the peak of happiness. It was only about twenty four hours, but they were the best. I liked him so much it hurt.

  And then it all came crashing down again.

  But my life isn’t a roller coaster, no matter how much it may feel like one. In life, there’s no guarantee you’ll ever go back up again.

  Chapter 15

  Tuesday morning another stack of papers lands on my desk. I barely got any sleep last night because my dad went on another drinking spree and stayed up all night shouting about money. So it’s probably because of my exhaustion that I don’t register who hands me the papers at first.

  “Hey,” I say quickly, snapping my head up to look at Clarissa while she’s still facing my direction.

  She nods to the papers, and that’s the only form of acknowledgement I get. I flip through them and see that they’re blueprints, printed off some website called Easy Greenhouse Construction.

  “This is everything we need,” she says. “I can bring all of the tools.”

  “Tools?” I flip through the papers, grateful that they make some kind of sense to me. I’m not a carpenter, but I can read instructions. This doesn’t look too hard.

  “Saw, hammers. That kind of thing.”

  It’s the most she’s talked to me since we went on that date. I try to smile. “Sounds good. I can’t wait to get started.”

  “When will that be, exactly?” She’s staring at me now, like she’s finally decided to acknowledge that I exist, but the quirk in her lip tells me she could change her mind any second. I’m sitting in my desk and she’s still standing, hovering over me, her eyebrows taut and lips pressed together.

  “Soon,” I say, realizing that’s not a good enough answer. Right freaking now, is what I wish I could say. Let’s blow off school and spend the day together. Instead, I quickly think over my schedule.

  “Wednesday. I’m off work so we can start right after school.”

  “That’s tomorrow,” Clarissa says. “Do you mean tomorrow or next Wednesday?”

  She’s so mean it’s almost sexy. “Tomorrow,” I stammer. This girl’s got me all flustered. I hate thinking it, but I’m still holding out hope that she’ll decide to give me another chance. “Sorry, I meant tomorrow.”

  Her expression softens a little. “Then why didn’t you just say tomorrow?”

  I shrug.

  She swallows and then sinks into her chair. “Tomorrow then,” she says, and then she turns toward the front of the class and continues to ignore me.

  *

  That conversation with Clarissa haunts me while I’m at work. The second I’d walked in the door of Magic Mark’s, my boss had pulled me aside and asked if I could come into work tomorrow. I told him no, and he seemed annoyed, but he let it go.

  But now, I’ve had to listen to two voicemails from my mom and I’m wondering what the hell I should do. After my next delivery, I park back at the pizza shop, pull out my phone, and play the messages again.

  “Honey, it’s Mom. Your dad’s not going to tell you this, but he was laid off from work two days ago. He told me I wasn’t allowed to tell you, but I am, so please keep this between us. I know I said I wouldn’t borrow money from you again, but if you have any to spare, we could really use it. I love you, Gavin. Call me back.”

  The second one is much shorter.

  “Hey, sweetie! It’s Mom again. I know you’re busy at work but can you call me ASAP?”

  I dig in my pocket
and pull out the wad of cash I’ve received in tips tonight. Twenty six bucks. I know there’s around a hundred left at home and my paychecks are much higher now that I’m working five days a week. I’ll get paid on Friday, so I add it all up in my head, minus the money I need for gas. Then I call my mom.

  “Gavin! I’m so sorry I kept bothering you.”

  “Mom, it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

  “Did you listen to my voicemail messages?”

  “Yeah. How the hell did Dad get fired?”

  She sighs. “Apparently he just wasn’t working hard enough. Probably because he goes to work hungover every damn morning. Honey, I don’t even know. I’m trying to pick up extra shifts but they don’t want me going over thirty-nine hours a week. I even put up an ad on Facebook saying I can clean houses on my days off.”

  I grit my teeth. My mom already works her ass off at her job and at home, taking care of us and the house. She doesn’t need a second job.

  “How much money do you need?” I ask.

  Another sigh. “Just anything you can spare.”

  I stare into the storefront of Magic Mark’s as I talk on the phone. Inside, Pete, my boss, is running around like a crazy person. He usually spends his shifts sitting on his ass while the teenage employees do all the work, but Jayson’s mom is in the hospital and our other pizza maker, Zoey, just came down with mono.

  They could really use me tomorrow, and it would give me more money to help out my family. But working tomorrow would mean I’d have to cancel my plans with Clarissa.

  “I have about a hundred dollars right now,” I say. “And then I get paid on Friday. Is Dad already looking for another job?”

  “Yes,” she says softly. “You know how he is.”

  Dad is a pathetic drunk, but he’s also a good worker. He’s been fired or laid off a few times in life, but he’s always found another job right away. Lately, his drinking has been worse than ever, but I have to believe that he’ll find his way back.