by Alyson Noel
And then he was gone.
Well, he may not be losing me, she thought, flipping her phone closed and lying back on the grass. But she wondered if she was losing him.
By the time Jake picked her up from school Anne was feeling so depressed and so low that she walked right up to the silver Mercedes, plopped onto the passenger seat, and slammed the door so quick and hard she barely missed her own foot.
“So how’d it go?” he asked, waving at some people he knew as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it,” she said, slumping down in the seat and closing her eyes against the overbearing, totally relentless California sun. Does every day always have to be so sunny and bright? Can’t it ever be just a little damp, dark, and dreary for those of us with a happiness deficiency?
She glanced over at Jake, practically daring him with her eyes to say something positive, because then she’d really let him have it. But he just shrugged and turned up the stereo.
When he pulled into the driveway, he turned to her. “Your dad’s coming home.”
“Really?” she said, sounding excited in spite of herself.
“Yeah, he called this morning, he’ll be here on Thursday. Friday at the latest. But for sure by the weekend.”
Anne just grabbed her books and got out of the car. So it was finally official. She’d been abandoned by both her parents now, and quite possibly her boyfriend, too. She was tempted to call Child Protective Services.
“Don’t be so bummed,” Jake said, following her inside. “Most kids would be stoked to have a house like this to themselves.
“Yeah, well it’s not like I have any friends to party with,” she said, throwing her bag on the kitchen counter and wishing she hadn’t actually said that out loud. It made her sound so pathetic.
“Relax. It’ll happen,” he said, grabbing two bottles of water from the fridge and handing her one. “I can introduce you to lots of people.”
Anne took a sip of water and looked at him. She knew he was just trying to be helpful and make her feel better, but it’s not like she really wanted to hang with him. “Thanks,” she said. “But I’ll work it out.”
He nodded and started to head back toward the door.
“So what are you doing now?” she called after him.
“I was just gonna grab my board and head out for a while. Why? Do you need something?”
“Actually,” she said, looking down at her stupid outfit that hadn’t helped her blend in anywhere except for maybe in the teacher’s lounge. “I need to get a few things at the mall.”
“You want me to take you to the mall?” he asked, looking completely bummed.
“No, I was wondering if you’d leave me the keys?” She smiled, realizing she hadn’t done that in a while. “I can drive myself.”
“Do you even know where it is?”
“Jake, I’m a girl. I’m sure I can find the mall,” she told him, hoping his love of surf would override his work ethic.
He stood there for a moment, looking at her and weighing his options. Then his eyes wandered over to the huge windows and the ocean view. “I’ll MapQuest the directions for you,” he said, heading into the home office.
chapter ten
By Friday, Anne had talked to her parents on the phone for a combined total of six times. Her mom had called both Tuesday and Thursday mornings before school, with each conversation ending in a very ugly emotional argument. And her dad had phoned faithfully every evening, full of apologies, yet completely trusting in his little protégé, Jake, to look after her. But Anne rarely argued with her dad, even when he completely annoyed her, like now. Though his deadline was tonight, eight o’clock max. Okay, maybe eight thirty. But no later. She was done waiting for him.
She was also done with feeling like a victim. Because even though she hadn’t made any real friends yet, she was determined to stop feeling so sorry for herself all the time and instead try to stay focused on the small victories. Like on Tuesday, when she wore some of the new clothes she’d purchased during her visit to South Coast Plaza, and how she’d blended in with all the students she was still too shy to talk to. And on Wednesday, when having helped herself to the car keys while Jake was out on the deck drinking a beer with friends, she’d cruised around in the silver Mercedes, top down, hair getting tangled in the wind, until she located a gym where she could work out and try to stay in shape on the off chance she ever found a place where she could start diving again. And on Thursday, when Chris had followed her out of AP History, loosely flung his arm around her shoulder, and tried to lead her to the lunch tables where he hung with his friends. But even though she was really tempted to join him and maybe meet some people she could actually talk to, she had a telephone appointment with Justin that she just couldn’t break. She knew there was something going on with him, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” she’d said, ducking out from under Chris’s arm.
“What do you mean? Come on, everybody’s really cool,” he’d said, flashing that megawatt smile of his.
“I know, but I promised my boyfriend I’d call him,” she’d told him, wondering if that was still the appropriate title for Justin.
“Oh, sorry.” He looked really embarrassed. “I didn’t know.” He held his hands up in surrender, and backed away. “I guess I’ll see ya later then,” he had called, turning and jogging toward the lunch tables, leaving Anne standing there alone and wondering if she’d just made a major mistake.
In retrospect, it had been a mistake. Since after going to that pathetic patch of grass that had become her usual, lonely lunchtime hangout, she sat cross-legged in the sun and made her usual, desperate bid to communicate with Justin. She flipped open her cell, pushed the right buttons, and let it ring itself all the way into voice mail.
So then she called again.
And then one more time.
And then, finally deciding to call his house and speak to his mother, she was promptly informed that Justin was next door.
“Would you like me to run over and get him?” she’d asked.
“Um, no. That’s okay,” Anne had said, closing her phone and lying flat on the grass, eyes closed against the sun, refusing to cry.
Justin lived on the corner.
Which meant he only had one next-door neighbor.
Which meant he was at Vanessa’s! Apparently he no longer cared about their scheduled telephone time!
Oh God. “Telephone time”—it even sounds pathetic! She rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face in the warm grass. What had they been thinking? Had she really believed they could make it work with all those miles between them? And when they promised they’d wait for each other, what exactly did that even mean? Because from what she knew about Vanessa, she doubted Justin would be waiting for anything.
She’d sat up, rubbed her eyes, and squinted at some guys throwing a Frisbee around the quad, some cheerleaders on a bench comparing manicures, and Chris telling a story, motioning wildly with his hands, while everyone around him laughed.
She lived here now. Not Connecticut. And her first big romance was over. Strangely, she didn’t feel so bad about it.
chapter eleven
Lola was in her mom’s bathroom, lounging in the awesome oversized Jacuzzi tub and enjoying the hot water, the bubbles, and the candles that were lit all around her as only a luxury-loving girl could. She lifted her leg high into the air, watching the bubbles gather, skidding into each other and slipping down to her knee. Then she stared at her feet, noting that her pedicure was definitely past its prime, but hoping she could pass it off for just one more night. She was determined to wear her new metallic stilettos on her date.
Her date. For her seventeen years, Lola had already been on many dates—far more than most girls her age. The very first one took place in sixth grade at the Ocean Ranch Cinemas when she had told her mom she was seeing How the Grinch Stole Christmas with Ellie and Jade, w
hen what she really saw was Almost Famous with Parker Knowles, the cutest boy in her class. Lola had walked out of that theater wanting to be just like Penny Lane. Except for the drugs. And the getting traded to another band for a case of beer. Not to mention that unfortunate overdose. But still, everything else just seemed so glamorous, especially the furry-collared coat, the black sunglasses, and how all the guys in the movie fell in love with her.
Up until then, Parker Knowles had been one of her longest lasting, most serious romances. They’d been boyfriend and girlfriend for the better part of three weeks.
But things were simpler back then. Going steady meant no more than a handful of awkward phone calls, some sweaty hand-holding, and a few embarrassing attempts at kissing. By the time she and Parker had gotten it right, it was over. And so Lola quickly moved on to a succession of junior-high crushes, one virtually indistinguishable from the next.
Lola loved boys. She loved funny, straightforward, athletic, smart boys. She didn’t like the ones that acted overly cool, or dressed overly hip, or tried too hard to get noticed. Though she did like it when they fell to her feet. But pretty as she was, it was her smile that always reeled them in. From the moment she smiled, guys turned to putty, willing to do just about anything she asked.
But as much as she loved boys in general, she had never loved one in particular. Until this past summer, when everything changed.
They’d met before. But this time was different. And the girl who all her friends went to for advice (as though all that dating had made her more worldly, when the truth was she was just as much a virgin as they were) suddenly found herself completely clueless at how to proceed. So she’d spent the entire time concentrating on acting completely normal in front of her friends, even flirting with a couple other guys just out of habit. But her eyes followed him constantly. And if she wasn’t mistaken, she was sure he’d been watching her, too.
They’d met up again at the Ocean Ranch Golden Spoon, standing in line next to each other and both laughing when they ordered the exact same thing—a regular half pistachio—half vanilla with yogurt chips (she’d ordered first, so if anyone was copying, it was him). Then they’d carried their cups outside and sat at one of the small round tables, talking until her plastic spoon scraped against the bottom of the cup, and there was nothing left.
The second time was not an accident. Although it was a secret. As had been every single date that followed. Until, slowly, Lola began to realize that the strange, sometimes painful feeling in the pit of her stomach, accompanied by her newfound obsession with hours and minutes and seconds (counting them until she’d get to see him again), was the exhilarating, thrilling, and somewhat scary feeling of being in love.
Too bad she couldn’t confide in her friends. Or her parents. Or anyone else, for that matter. It meant way too much to her to just put it out there for other people to judge. And she knew the only way to protect it was to keep it close, and quiet, and secret.
She feared that her friends, knowing what a big flirt she’d always been, wouldn’t take her seriously Not to mention how they’d totally freak at her choice. And there was no doubt that Ellie would be the first (and worst) to judge. And so Lola, being a total people pleaser, had even flirted with that guy in the Jeep just to keep up the appearance of her “normal” self. But all the while she’d been thinking about someone else.
And she couldn’t tell her parents because they, along with Abuela, would have a complete and total meltdown. Because for starters, he wasn’t Mexican. Or Spanish. Or Puerto Rican. Or Panamanian or Argentinean or any other form of Hispanic that her parents would have grudgingly accepted after Mexican. And he wasn’t interested in having the “right kind of job.” He was an athlete, an artist, an innovator—a true renaissance man—but she knew her parents would not be impressed.
Right now Lola felt so insanely, blissfully happy that she just couldn’t take any chances on having someone else wreck it.
“Lola?” her mother called, walking into the bathroom and leaning against the marble sink.
“Mom, I’m trying to take a bath here, jeez,” she said, sinking way down so she was covered up to her neck in bubbles.
“We’re leaving in an hour,” her mother said, turning toward the mirror and checking her makeup.
“Okay.” Lola picked up a bottle of body scrub and poured some into her palm. As far as she was concerned, the sooner they left, the better. She had lots of prepping to do for tonight, and it would all go a lot smoother if they weren’t around to supervise.
“Will you be ready by then?” Her mother turned to face her.
“Ready for what?” she asked, getting a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “What are you talking about?” Lola had no idea what her parents had in store for her, but there was no way they would keep her from going on her date.
“Tonight’s that movie screening, and your father is insisting that you go.”
“What? No!” Lola said, her heart racing as she looked at her mother and pleaded. “Mom, I can’t, okay? I have plans.” God, it’s like they’re determined to wreck my life! She’d had a serious boyfriend for exactly three months now, and she was thinking about doing something very major to mark the occasion. It might be too soon, but she loved him so much it would probably be worth it. And she knew her dad didn’t care if she went to the stupid premiere. This was her mom’s doing. She was always trying to show off her pretty daughter and get her noticed by Hollywood. Even though Lola herself had no interest in any of it.
“This is very important to your father and me. You will come with us, and that’s final,” she said, turning to leave as though everything was settled.
“No! Mom, I’m serious!” Lola begged. “It’s Friday night and I have plans!”
“Well, I’m very sorry you made plans, because you’ve known about this for over a week now.”
Was that true? Had she known about it? Because she had absolutely no recollection of having been told. Was being in love giving her amnesia? “Mom, please, I’m so not joking. I’ll do anything to make it up to you guys. Just please don’t ask me to do this, please!”
“What on earth is so important?” her mother asked, crossing her arms coolly and surveying her wet, soapy, panicked daughter.
“I promised Ellie,” she started. Think, Lola, think! “Um, you know how her mom died, like five years ago this month? Well, we always get together to kind of memorialize it.” Okay, it wasn’t a total lie, because they really did do that, and she was stopping there first. But still, using that for an excuse is definitely a guaranteed one-way ticket to Hell. Especially since what she was really planning to do was something her parents had always told her would send her to Hell.
“Fine.” Her mother shook her head and sighed. “We’ll take separate cars. You can drive mine. But you must come by as soon as you’re finished. The screening is at eight. Don’t be late,” she said, giving her a stern look.
“Okay.” Lola nodded, wondering what excuse she would use for when she didn’t show. Ellie was too upset and she couldn’t leave her? Ran out of gas? Wardrobe malfunction?
“And Lola?” her mother said, gripping the door handle.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t even think about not showing up.”
Lola watched until the door was completely closed. Then she took a deep breath and plunged under the bubbles, resting on the bottom of the tub for as long as she could.
chapter twelve
Anne was lounging on the couch, remote control in one hand, chip smothered in guacamole in the other, as she and Christina drank raspberry iced teas and watched Spanish-language novelas together. She’d been hanging out with Christina all day after school, and even though there was at least a twenty-year age gap, and definitely somewhat of a language barrier, she had to admit it beat hanging out by herself. Or, even worse, with Jake, who was always trying to get her into the ocean and onto a board.
But Anne refused to surf. And she refused to hang with peopl
e who surfed. And just for the record, she was also absolutely done with celebrating the “small victories.” That sunny side up frame of mind had lasted an hour at best. And now she was right back to feeling sorry for herself.
It’s the inventory that was so pathetic:
Friends—0.
Boyfriends—0.
Pool—0.
Diving board—0.
Dad (still missing in action)—0.
Anything remotely resembling her former life as she knew it—0.
She rolled her eyes at her sorry existence, then grabbed another chip and pulled it through the bowl of guacamole—twice. Then, holding it up in front of her, she looked over at Christina and smiled before shoving the entire thing into her mouth.
But Christina didn’t smile back. Her eyes were busy watching the action on the flat screen TV So Anne picked up another chip, repeating the same routine and wondering if maybe she should slow down just a bit since for the past hour or so her jeans had begun to feel a little, well, confining.
And, to be honest, hanging with Christina wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Anne had originally hoped that by asking her to stay late, they could hang out, have some fun, maybe get to know each other a little better. Thinking that in no time they’d be giggling and sharing inside jokes—in Spanish, even.
But now, as she undid her top button and grabbed another chip, it was becoming very clear just how misguided her plan had been. Not to mention the sad truth that Christina had probably only stayed because she thought she had to, and not because she wanted to.
chapter thirteen
The third week of September was always hard for Ellie. Not only did the responsibilities of school and home always threaten to overwhelm her, but it also marked the week her mom had died. September eighteenth, to be exact. And even though five years had passed, and it was slowly starting to get easier, whenever that day approached she always felt like a big dimmer switch had been put on her life. Everything just seemed so much darker.