Unexpected

by Meg Jolie

  I scowled because I didn’t find it weird at all.

  She grimaced at my scowl. “Sorry. I sometimes forget that you’re like, mentally scarred or something.”

  “Britta was actually just saying she was worried her mom’s dating Mr. Gallagher,” Jamie told her. “Why are you asking?”

  “I was just wondering because it seems like when Britta walks by, that girl shoots daggers at her,” Krista said.

  “What?” I demanded. “She does? Why?” I wasn’t used to people disliking me. I kept to myself enough that really, they had no reason to dislike me. Except, okay, maybe there had been that brief period of time where I’d tried to befriend Heidi. I mentally rolled my eyes thinking, quite sarcastically, How dare I?

  “It could be that she still likes Corey,” Willow tossed out.

  “What?” I demanded for the second time in possibly thirty seconds.

  “You didn’t know?” Jamie asked with a little laugh.

  I shook my head. Was that why she’d acted toward me that way she had? That would bring the whole sibling rivalry to a whole new level. Oh, wait, I was getting way ahead of myself on the sibling front. Again.

  “It could be that,” Krista agreed. Then she gave me a devilish smirk. “Although pair the two together…You and Corey…you know…Plus your mom and her dad…you know. No wonder she looks at you like she’d enjoy pulling out every last strand of your hair.”

  I ignored that last bit. Possibly because I didn’t want to believe it was true. Or because my mind was still tangled up back with the news that Heidi liked Corey.

  “Are you sure? About the Corey part?”

  “What part would that be?” A too-familiar voice asked. It was full of amusement. He grinned at me as he helped himself to the seat next to me. “Don’t deny it,” he said with a teasing grin. “You were talking about me.”

  Why did he have to look so pleased with himself?

  I gave him my sweetest smile. I may have even batted my eyelashes.

  He grinned back triumphantly.

  “We were just saying how you should invite Heidi to the winter dance,” I fibbed in a voice that was sugary.

  “Heidi? Heidi who?” He demanded. His smile had fallen away but he didn’t look entirely glum. More like, intrigued.

  “Heidi Sandstrom?” Jamie said in her best duh-voice.

  He blinked at her and shrugged.

  “Cute little junior?” I helpfully supplied.

  This earned me a scowl.

  “Well that’s not going to happen,” he informed me. “I have someone else I plan on asking.”

  “Who?” Willow demanded.

  Corey turned to me and made a face that implied, Who do you think?

  “Well that’s not going to happen,” I mimicked.

  He slumped. “Oh come on,” he said in his best have-pity-on-me tone.

  It was a tone I knew too well. A tone I had given in to a few times too many. No way was I giving into it now. “I can’t because—”

  “She has a date!” Jamie ground out.

  “Who?” he asked. He sounded genuinely surprised. Though I was sure he knew and was simply pretending not to know.

  I couldn’t help it. I felt a bit offended. Apparently, so did Jamie.

  “My brother!” she said.

  I smiled to myself as her defensive side came out.

  “Tristan?” he scoffed. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously,” I said. I was starting to become annoyed by his attitude.

  He just stared at me for a minute. As if it were difficult to try to assimilate the knowledge into something that he could easily understand. Seems like it should be a simple thing to do. Apparently for Corey? Not so much.

  Finally, he shook his head and made a scrunched up face. “You and Tristan? Still? That’s just—”

  Jamie cut him off. Again. “You better be very, very careful how you finish that sentence. That’s my brother you’re about to insult.”

  Corey snapped his mouth shut.

  “Looks like you might want to check in with Heidi after all,” Krista told him brightly.

  He sighed but took the hint. He grabbed his tray and left without another word.

  “Wow,” Jamie said. There was an element of surprise to her voice. “Who ever would’ve thought that Corey Adamson wouldn’t have a date to the dance?”

  “He’s not the only one,” Willow grumbled.

  “You haven’t talked to Grant yet?” I wondered.

  Her lip fell out in a pout that I wasn’t sure how to interpret.

  “No. I did. That’s the problem. He asked Jannessa,” she glumly admitted. “She said yes.”

  “How could he?” Krista asked, clearly flustered.

  “Well,” I hesitantly suggested, “maybe because Willow told him to ask someone else?”

  “I didn’t mean it!” she nearly wailed.

  “Of course you didn’t,” Jamie said. She gave her a sympathetic look. “There’s still time. You have a dress. It can’t be that hard to find you a date.”

  *~*~*

  “I really think you should’ve mentioned to him that I was coming,” Tristan chastised.

  I was busy doing a not-so-fantastic job of parallel parking my car. It took me a few seconds to answer him.

  “He’s not going to care,” I finally assured him.

  And if he did care? And to be honest, I thought there was a good chance he might…Too bad. Tristan rarely had a night free. But when my dad called, insisting I meet him at Luca’s, I hesitantly agreed. The next morning, Tristan had told me he had the night off. I didn’t want to miss out on a night with Tristan. But I didn’t dare back out on my dad. Bringing Tristan with seemed like the only logical way to solve my dilemma.

  “Hey,” he said as he grabbed my hand. He was looking at me worriedly. “You look like you’re nervous.”

  I shrugged. “I just don’t enjoy this. I want it to be over with.”

  He pulled me into him. “Don’t get mad…But I think maybe you make this harder on yourself than it needs to be. You need to relax.”

  And somehow…I did. We stayed like that for maybe a few seconds, maybe a few minutes. I wasn’t sure. As always I just loved the way Tristan always made me feel so comfortable. He kissed my temple and then backed away.

  “We should get going. We’re already a few minutes late.”

  We quickly made our way down the sidewalk and into the warmth of Luca’s. The aromas of garlic, pasta sauces, and bread were comfortingly familiar.

  Dad was seated on a bench near the entry way, waiting. His face broke into a grin when he spotted us. He jumped to his feet to greet us.

  He pulled me into a hug so quickly I didn’t have a chance to avoid it.

  “Next time we are not going to wait so long until we get together,” he said firmly.

  I mumbled something noncommittal.

  Once he released me, he threw his arms around Tristan. They did that man-hug thing where they clap each other on the back, hard. It sounded loud and painful. I decided it must feel more manly and acceptable to do it that way.

  Dad turned to the waitress. “We need to add another chair.”

  She nodded and we followed her into the dining room. It was busy but it wasn’t nearly as crowded on a week night. She pulled an extra chair up to our table and we took our seats.

  “It’s good to see you!” Dad said to Tristan. “It’s been a long time!”

  “Yeah,” Tristan said as he shot me a sideways look. Then he redirected his attention to my dad. “It’s good to see you, too.”

  Dad grinned at Tristan like he really meant it. Like he really was happy to see him. Like he really didn’t mind that I’d brought him along for the sole purpose of crashing our dinner date.

  The result?

  I may have started to dislike my dad just a little bit less.

  “How long have the two of you been dating?” Dad asked.

  I bristled for no reason other than I was permanently on the
defensive. I knew it but it didn’t stop me from saying, “Who said we’re dating?”

  Dad looked amused. “I saw you walking up the sidewalk holding hands. I just assumed…” He trailed off. Then he threw us an out. “Although, it is slippery out there. And those boots of yours can’t have very good traction. So I could see if maybe Tristan was just lending a hand.”

  “It’s been a few weeks,” Tristan told him. He was probably afraid I would continue to be difficult. I didn’t want to admit it, but he was probably right.

  Dad and Tristan chatted throughout the meal. There was a whole lot of talk about the Jacobs, what they’d been up to. Dad asked Tristan if he still planned on following his dad’s footsteps. Tristan said he did. Though at this point, he was leaning toward family practice instead of pediatrics. Considering some of the stories he’d told me about his dad’s experiences, I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t have firsthand experience but I was sure kids could be exasperating.

  They discussed the neighborhood in general. Who’d moved away, the new families that had moved in. Dad seemed to enjoy bringing up the antics that involved Tristan and I when we were kids. Including the time one of Tristan’s bottle rockets came plummeting back to earth and nearly killed the neighbor’s cat. The Jacobs had gotten a hefty vet bill.

  They were constantly pulling me into the conversation. At first, I was reluctant. Having Tristan there helped. It helped more than I would’ve imagined. By the end of the meal, I was relaxed. And…an interesting realization struck. I was actually having fun. With my dad. In all honesty, I was having fun because of Tristan. But my dad was there. And feeling relaxed around him? That hadn’t happened since…before.

  It took us nearly three hours to finish our meal. Dad insisted on cannolis for everyone when dessert time came. The conversation seemed to go on and on. For the first time, it wasn’t strained. There weren’t long, agonizing lulls. I was so grateful that I’d thought to invite Tristan with. And just as grateful that he’d accepted.

  At the end of it, the waitress dropped off our bill and Tristan took out his wallet, fully intending to pay for his own meal.

  My dad let out an offended scoff. “Put that away!” he told Tristan. “This night was my idea. Besides, I enjoyed catching up with you.”

  Tristan thanked him.

  “Anytime.” Dad turned to me. “I mean it. You’re welcome to bring him with anytime. Especially if it means I get to see more of you.”

  I smiled and it didn’t even feel all that forced.

  When we said our goodbyes, we both got pulled into hugs again. This time, the thought to resist didn’t even really cross my mind.

  “Was that so bad?” Tristan demanded when we were safely in my car. Alone. His look was questioning but it was also at least a bit smug.

  “No,” I said with a little shake of my head. “It wasn’t bad at all. Thanks.”

  He smiled at me. “Not a problem. I always really liked your dad.”

  I glanced at the clock. It was my mom’s night to teach night class. She wouldn’t be done for another hour. At the risk of sounding like a clingy girlfriend I said, “I feel like I’ve hardly seen you at all this week.”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that. It was a crazy week,” he said.

  I nodded. “I didn’t realize how much you work.”

  He grimaced. “Yeah…well, I didn’t used to. There’ve been more, ah, I guess projects to deal with lately. So, yeah. I’ve been busier. ” He turned to me and made an apologetic face. “The timing kind of sucks.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. I was trying to go for a teasing tone. “It really kind of does.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, teasing back. “Why is that?”

  “Why do you think? Because I kind of want to see more of you.”

  A completely sweet smile spread across his face. “I am never going to get tired of hearing you say that.” He put his hands on the sides of my face and gently pulled me in for a short kiss. “And,” he said, his expression happy, “I still can’t believe it’s okay for me to do that.”

  “Um, more than okay,” I said with a quiet laugh. “Do you need to get home? Or do you want to come back to my house for a while?”

  He smiled at me again. “Yeah. I was really hoping you would ask me that.”

  14

  When Tristan first suggested we go sledding, I will admit I was skeptical. Of course it had been one of my favorite things to do when we were younger. But…we were younger. We were kids. Our parents would bundle us up, pack us up in the car and drive us to a huge sledding hill on the edge of town. It had been years since I’d been sledding.

  But with not a lot else to do on a snowy Sunday afternoon, I’d decided to humor him. Turned out, I had an absolute blast.

  The hill was filled with little kids. Who would’ve guessed that being older would make sledding even more enjoyable? Because with our longer legs, we could trek back up the hill twice as fast. Obviously that meant we could go down twice as many times.

  I had forgotten how exhausting it could be. All that traipsing up the hill in full snow gear. I had boots on and the pink ski pants I’d borrowed from my mom. Once fresh air was added in, I was wiped out by the time we’d decided we’d had our fill.

  We’d spent hours there. My face was frozen and my legs ached from exertion by the time we decided to call it a day. I was also starving and so was Tristan.

  When we got back to my house, Mom was gone. She’d left a note on the countertop saying she’d be home later that evening. Later as in, go ahead and eat dinner without her. So Tristan and I had raided the fridge.

  I was busy making homemade hot cocoa, just like Mom used to do after one of our sledding afternoons. Tristan was making us ham sandwiches as I stirred the milk, round and round. I didn’t dare to step away from the stove because I had a nasty habit of scorching it.

  Mom had a radio installed under one of the cabinets. Tristan had turned it to a classic rock station. The same one he always had on in his car. The same one he turned to in my car—and I’d just left it there. I had to admit, it was growing on me. I loved to hear him sing along. I would swear he knew every single song ever recorded. He wasn’t singing today, though.

  I noticed he looked lost in thought. I just waited for him to be ready to say what was on his mind. I knew Tristan well enough to know that’s how he was. Unlike me, who blurted things out unnecessarily and then found myself wishing I could take them back. Tristan was the opposite and I often wished I could be more like him. He thought things through and then said what he needed to say.

  “You know,” he started. But then he trailed off as he carefully layered some more meat over the cheese. I had a feeling he was hesitant to tell me what was on his mind. Finally, he spoke again. He looked so serious when he said, “I’m going to miss you next year.”

  I was standing sideways at the stove. I’d just measured out the cocoa and I was stirring it in. I had been patiently waiting for him to speak, sneaking glances at him. He was wearing a long sleeved, black Metallica t-shirt. It stretched nicely across his chest. Every now and then I was still caught off guard when I realized how much he’d changed over the past year.

  I was also caught off guard by his sudden admission.

  “I know. I’ll miss you, too. It’s a long way off, though.” I said the words but suddenly, it didn’t seem true. It was about half a year away. But the first half of senior year had flown by. Somehow I was sure the second half of the year would fly by even faster. I mean, that was typically the case. And summer? That was always the case.

  “Yeah, I guess,” he answered noncommittally.

  I sighed. “It’s really not that far away, is it?”

  He shook his head but gave me a small smile. “No. Not really. I was already not looking forward to it. I mean, it’s been on my mind for a while. I’ve known you forever. It’s going to seem so weird when you’re gone.”

  Tristan had planned on attending Florida too, because that was where his dad had gone.
But obviously, he wouldn’t be there for another year.

  I nodded. “Maybe you can come visit?”

  His smile widened. “Yeah, I’d planned on it. Well, I mean, I’d planned on visiting my grandparents and you know…if you happened to be around...Anyhow, there are a few beaches in particular I’d love to take you to. I mean, if you even want to go see them with me.”

  “When the time comes, I’ll be around.” I assured him.

  Then neither of us said anything because the implications of it all seemed to be screaming at us. The fact was, in six months I was moving away. To the opposite end of the country. It was hard to say if Tristan and I would be together then or not. But somehow? I thought maybe we would be. I mean, I was well aware of how long he’d had a crush on me. So conceited or not, I couldn’t see him ending our relationship anytime soon. And considering how I felt, I couldn’t see myself ending it, either.

  I had been with Corey for nine months. I could easily see myself with Tristan that long. I wasn’t one of those girls—like Krista for example—that jumped from one crush to another. Going through guys faster than Willow went through yarn. Not to mention, Tristan and I had a history. I knew that was the only reason I’d moved on so quickly from Corey. I hadn’t been ready to jump into a relationship with just anyone, but Tristan had been different. He wasn’t just anyone. He was Tristan.

  So even though we’d only been dating a month, it felt a lot more serious than it maybe should have.

  So what would happen then? I’d thought about it. Some. But it was kind of upsetting so a lot of the time, I’d shove the idea right out of my head. A friendly break-up was my guess.

  “What are you thinking about?” he wondered. “You look kind of serious.”

  I glanced up to see that he was watching me. He’d finished the sandwiches and was leaning forward on his elbows.

  “Nothing,” I said with a sigh. I gave the cocoa one final swirl and then moved it to a cool burner. I stepped over to the cupboard near the sink, where the mugs were at. When I turned back around, Tristan was standing next to me. I set the two over-sized mugs down as I slipped right into his arms and rested my head against his chest.