In This Moment (In Plain Sight Book 3)

by Amy Sparling

  “We’ll be fine, Mom. He’ll get a new job.”

  “I know,” she says, and her voice cracks. I press my ear to the phone and I can hear her crying. The sound breaks my heart. I can’t remember the last time I saw my mom cry, or if I ever have seen he cry.

  “We’re not going to make the mortgage payment,” she says, still sobbing. “I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

  “It’s okay,” I say, but even I don’t have much faith in my words. “Don’t they take like three months of missed payments before they start to foreclose on you?”

  I hate that I know this fact about mortgages, but I do.

  “Yes, Gavin. But this will be our third late payment.”

  My stomach clenches. Shit. Things are worse than I thought. As a kid, my parents would argue about money, but then my dad would pull through and get some great job and we’d be fine again. I never really worried about it, but now I’m a few months away from being eighteen and it’s all I can worry about. I don’t want to hear my mom cry anymore. I don’t want my dad to drink himself stupid every night because he’s stressed about not having enough money.

  For the first time in my life, I feel like I can make a difference. “Mom, it’ll be fine. I’m working extra shifts and I’ll have more money. It’s all yours.”

  “Gavin, I can’t ask you to do that,” she says, her voice still broken up from crying.

  “You’re not asking,” I say, knowing this decision won’t win me any favors from Clarissa. “I’m insisting.”

  *

  I wait until the next day at school to tell Clarissa the bad news. She walks into homeroom right before the bell rings, which is her new routine. I tap her on the shoulder.

  “Bad news,” I say.

  She turns around, one eyebrow lifted. I’m surprised how much I don’t want to tell her something disappointing. I had thought about texting her instead, but this way is better.

  “I’m really sorry, but I got called into work tonight.”

  She just stares at me, as if she’s waiting for me to continue. She’s going to make me tell her in detail that I’m cancelling our plans. I swallow. “It’s one of those situations where I can’t get out of it. Can we start the greenhouse next week?”

  “What day next week?” she asks after a nerve-racking few seconds of silence.

  “I’m not sure,” I admit. “I don’t know the schedule yet.”

  “Tell me when you do.” She turns back around, leaving me feeling like shit. I wish I could tell her that I’m working to save my family and if that weren’t the case, I’d be there in a heartbeat. I’d never bail on her if I had any other choice. But my old soccer friends are in the next row over, just waiting to hear me say something they can mock, and the teacher is walking to the front of the class, and there’s just no time. I’ll explain everything to her later.

  And that’s what I keep telling myself as I’m forced to bail on her for the next three weeks.

  Chapter 17

  Livi uses her thumbnail to scratch her name into the Styrofoam cup of her smoothie. It’s Five Dollar Friday at our local smoothie place, and we decided to order the large size for just five bucks instead of the usual ten. It was kind of a mistake because this thing is unbelievably huge.

  “I thought I loved smoothies, but I’m not sure I love them this much,” I say, curling my lip as I stare at what’s left of mine.

  “Why do they even make them this big?” she says, but then she takes another sip. “Soo good… Maybe that’s why.”

  I laugh and kick out my foot to make the porch swing sway a little harder. It’s Friday night and we’re officially two losers who have nothing better to do than get oversized smoothies and drink them on my front porch.

  I heave a big, bored sigh.

  “We need a car,” she says.

  “Agreed.” I don’t earn enough money to buy my own car. But now that Grandpa won’t be driving his truck anymore, I keep thinking that maybe I could drive it from now on. I haven’t mentioned it to him yet because his blindness is still fresh and I know he hates admitting that he can’t do everything anymore. Giving up his truck would be a big loss for him. But maybe someday, I can use it on a regular basis and then I can say goodbye to the school bus.

  “Thanks for hanging out with me even though I’m boring as hell,” I say with a little laugh.

  “I’m the boring one,” Livi says. “I don’t even know anything we could do, even if we had cars. It’s not like we have boyfriends or anything.” She stops talking abruptly. “Shit, I shouldn’t have said that.”

  I shrug. “We never have boyfriends, Liv.”

  “I know but…” she looks at me like I’m supposed to know what she’s talking about. When I don’t, she says it slowly. “The…Gavin thing…?”

  “Oh,” I say with a snort. “He’s not a thing.”

  In fact, he’s nothing.

  He was a brief date so long ago that I’ve already forgotten about it. And then he was a promise that he quickly broke.

  I grit my teeth and inhale through my nose, then slowly exhale. “Ugh, I haven’t even thought about him lately.”

  “Really?” Livi sets her smoothie down on the porch. “I just figured you didn’t want to talk about him.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about anymore. He promised to help me build the greenhouse and then he just kept bailing on me. Now he can go fall into a hole for all I care.”

  That first week I’d had my hopes up. Every day I went to homeroom and asked if he could start construction after school. Every day he said no because he was busy, or worse—he said maybe. The maybes always turned into nos. I’m sure he has some pathetic excuse, but I never wanted to hear it. He’s just an asshole. I’ve made his life easier for him by just forgetting the whole freaking ordeal.

  Now, I have a plan. I go to homeroom just before the bell rings. I sit in my chair and look straight ahead, and then I leave the second the dismissal bell rings. It’s a brilliant system. It lets me just pretend he doesn’t even exist anymore, which is good for my fragile heart.

  “He hasn’t even been to school much lately,” I say, hating that I know that. He’s missed every Friday for the last three weeks, and even when he’s in school, I never see him at his lunch table anymore. Not that I’m looking.

  “So, your greenhouse?” Livi says softly. “Is it over?”

  “Yeah,” I say after a long moment. “I guess it is.”

  Chapter 18

  Soon. I had promised her soon. And now it’s October. Even though I see her every day in homeroom, for those fifteen minutes it’s like she doesn’t exist and I don’t exist, at least not in the same universe. She ignores me, like she should. She should never talk to me again. She should forget my name and forget my face and forget that one perfect night we spent together.

  Of course, just because she should doesn’t mean I want her to. It’s already been established that I’m a shitty person, and I’ve only made myself more shitty by going to work every possible day instead of helping her rebuild the greenhouse. A layer of tall grass now wraps around the supplies on the ground between the high school and the daycare. It’s been weeks and I haven’t had time to help her.

  I know she won’t talk to me, and I don’t blame her one bit, but I have to explain. I have to let her know. So I write a letter.

  It takes me several hours over several days. I sit up in my bed well past bedtime and write until the early morning hours. I toss out a dozen drafts before I finally settle on one. I owe her an explanation, and an apology. She doesn’t have to read it, but I write as neatly as possible in the hopes that she will.

  Clarissa,

  If you’ve opened this letter, I hope you’ll read it all. I owe you an apology. I owe you more than an apology. I have no explanations for what I’ve done, only piss poor excuses and the pleading hope that you’ll someday forgive me.

  I want to explain.

  The first day of school went by in a blur. I’d barely s
lept the night before thanks to my dad going on another one of his drinking binges, so I barely paid attention in any of my classes, especially homeroom. My feet were on your desk because all I wanted to do was kick back and go to sleep. Even in a busy classroom filled with twenty people all talking at once, it was more serene than trying to sleep at my house with one raging alcoholic.

  When school was over, I went home to more of the same bullshit. Exhaustive, depleting bullshit. I was in a mood. This doesn’t excuse anything, I know. One of my teammates, and up until now, a guy I considered my friend, was drunk and most likely high and decided to wreak havoc on the first thing he found. That was your greenhouse.

  I tried to stop him. I tried to stop myself. But months of exhaustion and stress all came out at once and suddenly I was helping him. I swear to God, I thought the greenhouse belonged to the school. I figured the school didn’t care. I also thought it wasn’t being used since it’s been sitting there vacant for as long as I could remember.

  In the dark, I didn’t see that it was new. In the daylight, I could see that very well. Had I realized we weren’t destroying an old shack, I probably would have stopped.

  The reason I never came forward was fear. Fear of what would happen to me when my dad found out that I’d destroyed someone’s private property. So I kept quiet. I focused on the girl in homeroom who was so beautiful she made my head spin. All I wanted was to get to know you. I wanted to take my mind off every other shitty thing in my life and spend my time with you.

  So I kept lying. But only about the greenhouse. Everything else, every word, was true.

  I know I promised to rebuild your greenhouse, and I haven’t been around much lately. My promise is valid. My timing is off.

  My dad has lost his job and my parents need help with the bills. I have taken on as many work hours as possible to bring in money for them, and that leaves no more time left to build the greenhouse. I’m even ditching school on Fridays so I can work sixteen hours straight. I know this isn’t a good enough excuse. I know I’ve lost your trust and your friendship. I just wanted you to know the truth, Clarissa. I fucked up when I took a hammer to that greenhouse, and I fucked up worse when I lied to you. And that friend who got me into this trouble has now taken an interest in you, which is something I’ll never forgive myself for. Now, abandoning you with the rebuilding efforts is the last thing I want to be doing, trust me. I spend every day thinking about the day when I’ll be able to help. I hope it’s soon. Please don’t give up on me. I will build this greenhouse for you.

  I’m sorry for everything.

  Gavin

  It’s the best I can do. I fold up the letter and put it in an envelope, and then seal the envelope shut. I’ve revealed my worst secrets in here, and I don’t want anyone to accidently read it.

  In the morning, I slip past my dad, who is passed out on the couch wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday. Mom isn’t home yet because she went straight from work to cleaning someone’s house. I make a sandwich and grab some snack food from the pantry and shove it all in a plastic shopping bag. I’ve been eating my lunch in my truck now. I can’t afford to go out and I’m no longer welcome at the lunch table with my old soccer friends. I could probably make more friends, but I have no energy for that.

  At school, I tuck my letter under the cover of my chemistry book, which I place on my desk in homeroom. I wait patiently for Clarissa to arrive, just a few seconds before the bell, just like always.

  She’s wearing tight jeans and a black sweater that has a cat face on the front. She’s adorable, as always. She slips into her chair, and for the first time in weeks, I don’t look away.

  I sit up straight. Reach into my chemistry book. I lean forward, my hand reaching out to tap her on the shoulder.

  Then TJ beats me to the punch. “Hey, girl.” He slides his desk halfway across the aisle so that he’s closer to her as he leans over, laying on a heavy smile.

  “Good morning,” she tells him, her voice sweet. It’s the kind of voice she hasn’t used on me in a long time.

  He gives her a quick once-over that makes my skin crawl. A knot twists in my stomach as I watch this event happing right in front of me, by two people who don’t even notice I’m here.

  “What are you up to tonight?” TJ asks her.

  She shrugs. “Absolutely nothing,” she says, and maybe it’s my imagination but it’s almost like she’s flirting. The knot in my stomach gets tighter. TJ knows I went out with her. He knows I like her. Why would he do this after he’s already taken everything else from me? Because of him, I’m off the team, I’m out several hundred dollars, and Clarissa hates me.

  The homeroom teacher begins her morning speech, talking about upcoming events and shit I never listen to. TJ holds up a finger to Clarissa, signaling that their conversation will continue soon.

  I sit so still my vision blurs as I stare straight ahead, hoping I’m wrong in my assumptions. As soon as the announcements are over, the teacher hands a stack of papers to some guy on the front row and he begins passing them out.

  TJ taps Clarissa on the arm. “You wanna get dinner tonight?”

  Dammit.

  She seems to consider it a moment. I expect her to ask him a bunch of questions, but all she says is, “Sure.”

  “Sweet. Can I get your number?” TJ holds out a pen, and then puts his arm in her lap. Anger rolls around in the pit of my stomach. This is not happening.

  She takes his hand and writes her number on his forearm. Every second that passes is like another knife being stabbed into my back. I’m right here. I see all of this.

  And he knows it.

  “I’ll call you later,” TJ promises, sealing the deal with a wink.

  I see her cheeks turn pink just before the bell rings. I bolt out of that classroom like it’s on fire. What the hell is this shit? He’s doing it to piss me off, he has to be. TJ doesn’t go for girls like Clarissa. He likes them slutty. Drunk girls at parties. Freshmen. He doesn’t like sweet girls like Clarissa.

  I don’t even realize what I’m doing at first. My feet take me down to the math hallway. As soon as she turns the corner, I release the breath I’d been holding. She’s alone. That dickhead didn’t follow her to her next class. This is my chance.

  She doesn’t even see me because she’s looking down at her phone. I step in front of her.

  “You can’t go out with him.”

  She startles, then looks at me with hatred in her eyes. “Excuse you?”

  “TJ is a dick. You can’t go out with him.”

  “I can go out with whoever I want,” she says, stepping to the side.

  “Yeah, but dating him would be a mistake.”

  “Good thing I have experience in dating mistakes,” she snaps.

  I sigh. “Please, Clarissa. Don’t do it.”

  She just glares at me. There are so many things I wish I could say, but even if she’d listen, there’s not enough time between classes. That’s when I remember the letter. I pull it out of my book and hand it to her. “Just read this. Please.”

  “What is it?” she says, turning over the blank envelope.”

  “It’s a letter from me.”

  She rolls her eyes. That cuts me worse than a knife.

  “Hate me all you want, but TJ will only hurt you.”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t find a reason to believe anything you say.” She shoves my letter into her binder and then grips it to her chest. At least she didn’t rip it up on sight.

  “Just read the letter,” I say. “Please.”

  She turns toward her classroom and doesn’t bother looking me in the eye anymore. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  I stand there for a second, my muscles rebelling against any movement. I’m overwhelmed with being in her presence again. I’m relieved that I finally gave her the letter, and even though she hates me, she might read it. If she reads it, maybe she’ll find a way to forgive me.

  Or maybe I’ve already lost her to TJ.


  Chapter 19

  I’m not sure if there’s two date-worthy outfits in my closet. I’d worn the best one I had when I went on a date with a guy that I no longer think about. At least I try not to think about him. Somehow he’s always in my head.

  TJ texted me half an hour ago asking if I still wanted to get dinner with him. I said yes, and he said cool, and I’m still waiting on more details. I stare in my closet while wearing my underwear and a bra, hoping that a perfect date night outfit will magically appear. Maybe it’ll fly off the hangers and slide onto my body, Cinderella style.

  When nothing happens, I sit on my bed and text TJ again.

  Me: Where are we going?

  TJ: Lone Star Diner. Only the best food on the planet

  Okay, that makes it easier. The diner is a small place in town and dressing up for it is definitely not required. I think it’s cool that he’s keeping our date low-key, although I can’t imagine a romantic walk along Main Street afterward would be as fun as a walk on the beach. Not that it matters, I remind myself. That date with Gavin was a sham.

  I choose an outfit and don’t second guess myself as I get dressed. This is laid back and casual. It’s how normal teenagers date. I put my phone on silent and slip it in my purse and then go to wait for TJ on the porch. The last thing I want is for my grandpa to meet another boy. He may not be able to see, but he still remembers everything and I’d hate to answer why I’m suddenly going out with a different guy so soon after the first.

  When I step outside, TJ is already here, parked on the side of the road in his silver SUV. I wave at him and walk to the car.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” I say, climbing inside.

  “I was just about to text you.” He puts the car in gear and starts driving. “You look hot.”