Peter, ditching her.
Monica, always in her face. Reminding her of all the stupid stuff they’d done over the summer.
Jon, running off and making them keep his secret. Yes, she could tell what she knew. But one secret would lead to another. And another. And another, until the sickening truth came out. And Lexi couldn’t let that happen.
What the hell? How much could one person take? Crying might make her feel better, less out of touch, less clueless, but she’d had so much practice holding back her feelings tears wouldn’t come.
Why hadn’t her mom answered her calls?
A genuine tear slid down Lexi’s cheek, rolled past the corner of her lips. Another followed. She sat up, pulled in a deep breath and told herself to stop, but the tears kept coming.
Crying didn’t make her feel better, it made her pathetic. Really, it wasn’t that big a deal having some idiot you don’t really like walk out on you. And Jon? Whatever stupid game he was playing didn’t have anything to do with her. He was okay, that was all that mattered. She swiped away the tears and dropped back onto her lace pillows.
On the other side of the door, the creak of hallway floorboards was followed by a soft knock.
“Hi, honey.” Her mom inched the door open, peering in, a vague smile on her mouth.
The sound of her mom’s voice chased away some of the anger and embarrassment, and for a second Lexi let go of her indispensable self-control.
She sat up, reached for her mom, ready to tell her everything, but stiffened when she saw the other face in the doorway. The scent of burnt solder downstairs. Her straightened room. Floorboards that only creaked under his weight.
She should’ve already known he was there.
Back, ready to worm his way into every hole of their lives.
“Remember, I told you I had a surprise,” her mom said, typically oblivious to what was actually going on.
Lexi’s tears turned into anger and through the haze of her mind she heard her stepfather’s low husky whisper, her mom’s light giggle. The sounds crawled deep inside her, tearing at her heart.
No more.
Desperate, she scooted into the corner, bracing herself by pulling the throw pillows to her sides.
Don’t look at them.
Pretend they aren’t there.
Together. Acting like everything is okay.
But the overhead light blinked on, exposing her so she couldn’t deny their existence.
“Honey? Aren’t you happy to see Dale?” She stepped into the room, the scent of her vanilla-and-pear lotion filling the air. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you have a nice time?”
Hollow laughter struggled up Lexi’s throat. “That jerk ditched me, and you didn’t answer my text or calls.”
Silence swelled in the room, filling every nook. The quiet was so thick Lexi could have sworn she could hear her own heart beating.
“Honey?” her mom said after a minute, tugging at the flannel bathrobe she’d been wearing since before Lexi’s dad died. “What do you mean he ditched you?”
“Left, Mom. Like, got in his car and drove away without me.”
“I thought you were with Peter?” she said, backing away from Lexi as though she didn’t understand, as though it was Lexi who’d done something wrong.
“Peter? Peter who?” Dale asked.
Lexi squeezed her eyes shut, wishing them both away, but of course they were still there, bathed in bright light, when she lifted her lids.
Her mom was leaning into the doorjamb but Dale was inching forward, the ashy scent that followed him everywhere getting stronger.
Hoping it would hold him back, she offered, “Peter, a guy on the baseball team.”
“Peter Archer?” Dale said.
Of course he remembered the players.
Dale crept closer, pushing his dull brown hair off his forehead. “You need to tell us exactly what happened.”
Lexi tipped sideways, pleading silently to her mom, but she was staring fretfully at Dale’s gray terry cloth-covered back, letting him take control—as always. Even after being gone all that time.
To keep herself from having a complete internal meltdown, Lexi explained everything that had happened as quickly as possible. Once she’d finished, Dale said nothing to her, turning instead to her mom. “It’s a good thing I came back when I did.”
“Honey, I-I’m so sorry I— We didn’t hear the phone. We were—” Her mom’s face crumpled, her gaze shifting to Dale, who turned back to Lexi.
“You look all right now,” he said.
“But it must’ve been terrible. Are you sure you’re okay?” Her mom shuffled in but stayed behind her beloved Dale as she clutched the collar of her robe. “You want some cocoa? Want to talk some more?”
And endure more of Dale the pompous loser?
Not in a million years.
“I’m fine,” Lexi said, ignoring all of her mom’s questions. “I just want to go to sleep.”
Her mom whispered to Dale, the light vanished, the door closed.
Lexi crawled under the covers with her clothes still on, until, eventually, sweet sleep swept her away.
Outside her door, the floorboards creaked under heavy footsteps.
Chapter Five
Can You Keep a Secret?
Friday afternoon, after two mind-burning hours in one of the beige-walled Cherry Grove Library study carrels, Lexi steered along the careful curves of the Fairview Ridge subdivision south of town. The dusty scent of fall leaves and freshly cut grass came in through her open windows, floating in with high-pitched kid laughter and the thump of a basketball hitting the driveway. Yeah, it was the same stuff as in her neighborhood, but out here, away from beat-down buildings and small, old houses, it was better. Much better.
Lexi pulled up in front of Taylor’s bragalicious McMansion, tumbled out and leaped over the piles of leaves along the curb. People in Fairview didn’t do ordinary things like bag leaves. They heaped them into the street and waited for the service trucks to come by and suck them up with a giant vacuum. Very tidy.
Lexi would rather have stayed at the library than come to this boosters’ meeting, but her future depended on attending. So there she was, standing on Taylor’s porch wearing her extra long, burgundy campus sweater, matching headband and All Stars, and pretending not to be the girl who’d been ditched in the middle of a movie.
Mr. Lawton swung open the ultra-fancy wooden front door before she rang the bell. Compared to other dads around Cherry Grove, he was all right. Friendly enough to not be awkward but didn’t ask a bunch of tedious questions or pretend to be cool by talking about music. “Go on upstairs, Lexi,” he said, waving his steaming U MICH mug toward the dark steps at the back of the house. “I think the girls are just getting started.”
It was an expected Cherry Grove place, matched seating arrangements and color-coordinated knickknacks picked out by decorators. Huge windows that showed off the landscaped yard. Nothing personal or homey about it. Except the family photos in gleaming silver frames covering the piano. Those offered up a couple decades of winning at everything and always being the best.
Lush oriental rugs silenced Lexi’s steps, even the stairs were quiet. It was like she wasn’t even there. But she was—and so was Andrea MacNeil, because her voice was coming from Taylor’s room.
“I can’t believe he died sitting right there in the park.”
Lexi paused outside the door. Sweet-faced Betty Ann Thompson, the only other freshmen in the boosters, added, “Well, geez. He was eighty or something. He was bound to die sometime.”
“Peter Archer’s mom and my mom have been helping Mrs. Filpot,” Andrea said. “That lady is out of her mind. So they’ve pretty much been planning everything. Coach’s wife probably just wants to cry her eyes out.”
A pang of resentment hummed through Lexi. Her mom had reached out to Mrs. Filpot right away, before any of the other moms in Cherry Grove, and been rejected every time. Apparently the coach’s wife had be
en waiting to be helped by the right people, like Mrs. MacNeil and Betty Ann’s mom.
“Anyway,” Andrea kept right on going, even though nobody was responding to her, “Do we really have to wear black? You guys are all going, right? Are we going to sit together?”
“I read some new stuff on Jon’s Facebook page,” somebody else said, ignoring Andrea’s questions. “There’s a list of places he likes to go, you know, to eat and stuff.”
Murmurs followed. Debate about whether or not they had to wear black was cut into by more speculation about Jon and gossip about Mrs. Filpot losing it.
Lexi couldn’t make out all the words, but she didn’t need to. They all wanted details.
Information.
Monica’s voice sliced through the chatter. “Yes, we have to wear black. Of course Mrs. Filpot is upset. Her husband died. Yes, we are sitting together. For unity and support. And the only thing we can do about Jon is be supportive of his family, stop spreading rumors, and let the cops know if we see him.”
It was Monica’s last comment that made the pang of resentment turn hard and settle deep inside Lexi.
The only thing.
Aside from telling the truth, yeah, keeping your mouth shut is the option.
Next came Zoë Weinberg’s faint voice, so light and airy she practically sounded like some phone sex girl. “Monica’s right, and going on about everything will only make us all feel worse. And nobody wants that. Right?”
If Lexi didn’t quit stalling, Monica was going to totally take over. Lexi shook off the resentment, slid in, said hi with a bright face—not the expression of a girl who came from the wrong side of town and had too many things to hide—and took a spot on the bed, curling up against Taylor’s lemon-yellow headboard. She set down her bag, fluffed out her hair, and did her best to look natural and carefree like everyone else.
Taylor, wearing a lagoon blue Speedo tracksuit, sat on the way-too-flowery cushion inside her huge window seat. She swept back her uncurled red hair and looked around the room to make sure everyone was focused on her. Once she was sure she had everyone’s complete attention, she set her hands on her legs and leaned forward. “Okay, let’s get started.”
The meeting began with roll call and a list of what they’d talked about at the last meeting. Lexi needed to listen to Taylor, but all she could hear was the ugly rattle of her stepfather’s voice. And the thick sound of her mother’s weak silence.
Sad but true fact for the day—not even Peter’s stupidity or worry about Jon or grief for Mrs. Filpot could keep her mind from circling back to Dale Welks.
Back, when he should have stayed gone.
How could her mom stay with a man who abandoned her, then wandered back like a stray dog? That crap he handed out about having to take work out of town, it couldn’t be true. There had to be jobs around Cherry Grove. It was a big place, after all. And there were nearby cities that had to have work too.
The boosters meeting went on. Lexi sat silent, reminding herself that she needed to stay involved, yet unable to do more than keep that ready-willing-and-able smile firmly in place.
She managed a purposeful nod a couple times and even laughed when one of the girls made a joke. All the while, bits of discussion drifted around, Lexi half-listening.
“The coach would want this…”
“…the team…”
“Next year…”
A ring of laughter here, a choked giggle there, then one by one girls started checking their phones and talking about Peter. The noise kept rising, getting higher in pitch as panic increased and guesses got wilder. Thank God none of the ideas included her or the theater.
“Okay, exactly how many people got a text asking about Peter?” Zoë asked, waving her glam pink-covered phone.
Andrea, Betty Ann and other girls raised their hands.
“Me too,” Zoë said, still holding up her cell. “He’s supposed to be helping his mom set things up, and she’s pissed because he’s blowing it off.”
“I bet he’s getting drunk with Troy.”
“Those two are idiots.”
“What about you, Lexi?” Monica asked. “Did you get a text about Peter?”
Monica’s dark eyes gleamed, her glossy lips pulling into that smile that sent chills down Lexi’s spine. This time the chills were accompanied by a wave of anger because obviously she knew about Peter leaving her at the theater. Considering Monica and what she’d do for guys, she’d probably set the whole thing up. Told him if he ditched Lexi, she’d give him what he wanted for the signature.
No way was she going to give the other girl any satisfaction. Flashing a smile so sweet she could be on the cover of an ACT prep book, Lexi turned to Monica with a soft voice everyone would hear, but a nasty stare only Monica would see. “Nope. No texts. And last time I saw him, he was fine. Just fine. And smiling.”
Monica turned away, acting as though Lexi hadn’t said a thing. Taylor cut through the chatter with a reminder that they had stuff to get done. Phones dropped lower, but the damage was done—none of the girls focused on the agenda and each kept glancing down for more information. For Lexi, the rest of the meeting blurred by in a slow haze. Most of her effort was spent on not looking at Monica. In the end, there was a vote. They agreed to sit together at Coach’s funeral and the auction date stayed the same.
Once Taylor called the meeting officially over, all the phones came up at once and everyone started talking about Peter. There was no new information, just all the girls trying to piece together what they knew. Oddly, nobody mentioned him going to the movies. Had he kept that a secret? Why?
From the corner of her eyes, Lexi watched Monica. She was cozying up to Taylor, speaking so softly Lexi couldn’t hear what the two of them were discussing. Knowing Taylor, it was anything but gossip. Which meant Monica was doing what Lexi should be doing, getting more involved in the work and doing whatever she could to help organize the auction.
Planning to text Taylor later to ask what she could do, Lexi offered everyone a wave, said bye, and slipped back down the silent steps.
Twenty minutes later, as Lexi was turning into her driveway, her phone chirped. Her stir-crazy stress completely evaporated when she checked the display.
“Hi, Ash.” She pictured his cute dimple and intense eyes.
“Hey there,” he said, his yummy voice husky.
She climbed out and headed up the walk, which, thanks to her mom and not ever-lazy Dale, was no longer covered with leaves.
“You doin’ anything tonight?”
Lexi smiled, leaned onto the front door and pushed it open. But what she found on the other side made the grin vanish. Dale, stretched across the couch, flipping through a stack of papers clutched in his soot-stained hands. His dirty boots were kicked off on the floor and his feet, covered in grubby white socks, rested on the arm of the couch. Clods of dirt dotted the rug. And that smell, the sooty, ashy scent that followed him everywhere, floated around the room.
Swallowing hard, carefully disregarding him as she strolled past, she replied softly to Ash, “Just hangin’ out.”
But Dale wasn’t about to return the favor by ignoring her too. From the corner of her eye, she saw him sweep the papers aside, set his feet on the floor and lean forward.
“Lexi,” he said, putting a threat in his tone, trying to stop her from going up the stairs.
She cringed, struggling to keep the ugly tension out of her voice when she whispered into the phone, “Hey, can I call you back in a minute?”
“You okay?” After a second of silence, Ash came back, “I’m coming over to get you in a half hour. Okay?”
Lexi sensed Dale closing in behind her, felt a fog of tension settle across her shoulders then drift down her spine. Not now!
She opened her mouth to say ‘sure, of course’ to Ash, but he’d clicked off. Lexi tucked her phone into her palm, praying he wouldn’t try to snatch it away from her.
“Who was that?”
Lexi pretended to be re
laxed and casual as she brushed off Dale’s question. “Is my mom around?”
“Who was that on the phone?” he asked, angling back and folding his bony arms across his chest.
Answering might be the only way to shut him up. “Ash Carpenter.”
Moving forward, he forced her to smell that scent again as he asked yet another annoying question. “Why was he calling you?”
“Because he’s my friend.” Lexi dropped her phone into her bag, took a step up, feeling some of the tension fade as she got father away from him and found her nerve. “What’s it to you?”
Dale set his hand on the banister, searching her face. “The school’s athletic director asked me to step in for Coach Filpot. For this season, maybe next too, if things work out.”
Why did he think she cared? “Whatever.”
“Ash’s a good player. Solid. Dedicated. Not all kids are like that, you know?”
She took another step back, and because it made her feel stronger, she let the irritation snap in her eyes and voice. “Do you want something?”
“I’ve talked to your mother about that deal the two of you made.” Amazingly, his thin lips curved down even farther. “The curfew?”
She forced herself to breath naturally. “What about it?”
“With Jon still missing and everything that’s going on with you, I think she’s starting to see what I’ve been telling her. Good grades or not, you need a curfew. It’s what’s right.”
Like you’d know what’s right.
Lexi turned away, replying over her shoulder as she marched up the stairs, “My curfew is none of your business.”
“I’m making it my business,” he called back. “You don’t seem to understand that—”
Lexi rushed to her room, cutting off his words with the slam of her door.
* * * *
“Do you usually come all the way over to this side of town just to get coffee?” Lexi asked Ash, pushing her way through the double doors of Barnes & Noble as they went back outside to get away from the noisy kids waiting for a visiting author. The sun was out, but the air was cool and Lexi curled her hands around the hot paper cup.
Best Friends Never Page 5