“What’re you doing here?” Lindsey asked.
He kissed the top of her head. “Nice to see you too, butthead.”
“Jerkface.”
“Piglet.”
She giggled. “Eeyore.”
I was about to say hello, but Austin grabbed me from behind and swung me off the stool. “And … it’s … Mini-me!”
I yelped and only managed a weak, “Wait,” before he twirled me around. I clenched my teeth as the room swept by.
He stopped spinning, but held me up in the air, my feet dangling. Rough beard stubble brushed my ear. The smell of body spray drifted into my nostrils, making my nose itch. “Aren’t you happy to see your hero?” he asked.
“Ha. Of course,” I said, proud I sounded more in control than I felt, “but if I lose the salsa I just ate, you’re cleaning it up.”
“Oh, all right.” He kissed me on the cheek and plopped me back on the stool, steadying me with his hands on my shoulders.
Lindsey angled her head toward us, her tostada chip hovering over the salsa. “There are lots of rooms in this house if y’all need to use one. Just sayin’.”
Austin squeezed my shoulders once, then let go. “That would be illegal, dear Piglet.” He eyed me. “But not a bad idea. Mini-me has turned into a Mini-hottie.”
I had to admit a little thrill at his words—even though he had to be kidding. Austin was always kidding. It still made heat burn in my cheeks, something I wasn’t used to at all. “Cut it out, Austin.”
“Which makes sense,” he said, “since she is a miniature me.”
“I see the ego is intact,” Lindsey said. “Why are you here?”
He opened the refrigerator. “Is there anything to eat?”
“Of course there is,” I said. “There’s always something to eat here.”
He pulled the aluminum foil off a small casserole dish of some chicken noodle thingy, then sniffed it. “True, Mini-me, but I never know when one of Piglet’s boyfriends has been scarfing down our food.”
“It’s not your food anymore,” Lindsey said. “Now tell me why you’re here, Eeyore, or I’m calling Mom.”
He took out a fork and shoveled into the casserole. “No need to get all huffy. If you want to know why I’m here, all you have to do is ask.”
Lindsey looked at me, then threw a chip at him.
“Gross,” I said, pointing to his food. “Can’t you even warm that up?”
“Man, y’all are demanding. I’m just here to borrow a couple of coolers.”
“Why?” Lindsey asked.
“Hatch is having a party on Saturday night.”
“At his house?”
“No, at the lake—” He scowled at her. “Don’t even think about it, Linds.”
“Why not?” she asked. “Hatch loves me and I love Hatch’s parties.”
“Yeah,” he said through a mouthful of food, “but he’ll be seriously pissed if a bunch of teenagers show up. We don’t need that kind of trouble.”
“We won’t be any trouble, will we, Claire?”
“Don’t drag me into this.”
“But don’t you think it would be awesome?” she asked.
I’d rather stay home and read than hang out with people who’d treat me like a baby. But I didn’t want to spoil her fun. “I guess.”
“It would not be awesome,” Austin said. “Repeat after me. Not. Awesome.” He had a slightly desperate look to his eyes. “You’re on my side, Mini-me, aren’t you?”
“You don’t seriously think I can change her mind, do you?” I asked.
“Yes. You’re her sensible friend.” He set the now-empty casserole dish in the sink.
Yay! I was the sensible friend.
“Aw, c’mon,” Lindsey said. “It’ll be fun. Besides, it’s your fault for letting it slip, Eeyore.”
“If you show up, Linds, I swear I’ll tell Mom and Dad. They’ll ground you for a month. You know how they feel about Hatch’s parties.”
“You wouldn’t dare. I know too much about stuff you’ve done.”
Here I decided to make my retreat. “Y’all figure it out. I’m watching TV.”
***
After Austin and Lindsey had fought it out, he left. But not before getting her to promise she wouldn’t go to the party.
She dropped onto the couch with a sigh. I muted the TV. “Did you mean what you said to Austin?” I asked her.
“Yeah, pretty much. I mean, without Adam around, it wouldn’t be much fun anyway.”
“Yeah. So … since Adam’s not here and you need something to do, let’s go to IHOP on Saturday.”
“If you insist.”
“I do. Who do you want to invite?”
“It doesn’t matter. Anybody.”
“Okay. I’ll start with Rose and Sam.”
“I guess I can put out a general invite with the theater peeps.” A sly look grew on her face. “And you should invite your boyfriend.”
The memory of Gray’s thumb on my lips zipped into my head, but I focused on Lindsey. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“He must like you. Why else does he keep hanging around?”
And here was where I crossed my self-imposed line. I had no problem putting Gray in Lindsey’s path, but I’d never wanted to directly tell her what he thought about her. That was his job. But after he’d touched me, and I couldn’t quit thinking about it, I had to find a way to get him out of my mind. And getting Lindsey interested was a pretty good way to do it. I mean, if they were dating, he’d be unavailable and easier for me to forget. Right?
“Actually,” I said, “I think he likes you.”
She laughed. “Who doesn’t?”
“No, I’m serious.”
“Really? Did he say something?”
“He hinted.” That was an understatement. But I couldn’t confess everything I’d been doing on his behalf. Not yet, anyway.
For a long moment, Lindsey stared as though she didn’t quite believe what I was saying. I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t think I sounded any different than normal. But maybe I wasn’t as good at lying as I thought. Or maybe she just had her own theory.
“Huh,” she said finally. “He is cute.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“But so is Adam.”
I hated to admit it. “Yeah.”
She tugged her phone out of her shorts pocket. “I’ll text Mike to get the ball rolling. You invite Gray. Let’s see if he drops any of those hints on me.”
I’d do everything I could to encourage him to. “Okay.”
Nineteen
Gray
“Claire’s in the playroom with Jack,” Mrs. Gardner said. “It’s this way.”
“Thanks.” I followed her through the living room, getting closer and closer to a loud voice that was … what? Shouting? “Is that singing?”
Mrs. Gardner smiled over her shoulder. “Claire likes to entertain the baby.”
“Oh.” That was Claire? It sounded kind of deep and raspy. Heh. Now I had something to tease her about. Good. A little more control in any situation with Claire was good.
Claire’s mom stopped abruptly. I sidestepped so I wouldn’t run into her. “Shoot,” she said. “I think that’s my cell ringing in the kitchen. I’m expecting a call.” She pointed straight ahead. “Just go on through here, turn right, and follow the singing. Excuse me.”
“Sure.”
I made it into a short hallway and passed a tiny bathroom before stopping at an open door where all the noise was coming from. I peeked around the corner.
A small room that probably used to be an office of some kind was littered with toys in primary colors. Claire lay on her back, Jack perched belly-down on her bent knees. She held onto his little hands while she sang. “We know we belong to the land, and the land we belong to is graaand.”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. But I was definitely laughing on the inside. Her voice grew steadily higher, sounding less like a foghorn and more like a tra
in whistle.
“So when we saaay, Yeeow! Aye-yip-aye-yo-ee-aaay!”
Jack giggled.
“We’re only saying, you’re doing fine Oklahoma, Oklahoma, O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A, Oklahoma, O.K.!”
“O.K., O.K.!” Jack said.
I applauded.
“Yay!” Claire said, then tilted her head backward to see who was clapping. She started, jostling Jack up and down. He laughed.
“Gray?” she asked, her voice sounding scratchy. She rolled to the side, letting Jack down gently.
He jumped up and tried to climb back on her. “Again!”
“Hang on, sweetie, Gray’s here.”
“A?” he asked.
I squatted down. “Hey, buddy.”
Jack crawled behind Claire, who was now sitting up. She straightened her glasses and pushed hair out of her really pink face. I couldn’t tell if she was blushing or not. Maybe the color was from holding Jack on her knees. He was a pretty sturdy-looking kid.
“What’re you doing here?” she asked.
“Is he hiding from me?” I asked.
“Yeah. He’s shy sometimes.”
“So,” I said, trying not to smirk, “Oklahoma?”
She twisted around to look at the baby, but she might’ve just been hiding her face for a second. She turned back. “Yes, Oklahoma. Jack likes it when I bellow.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a bellow … ”
“You might as well laugh. I know you want to.”
So I did.
“I guess I deserve that. My singing’s not so good.”
“It’s not so bad either. Pretty entertaining, actually.” I sat on the small, beat-up couch. The room seemed perfect for little kids. Coloring books lay open on a toddler table in the corner and cubbyhole shelves filled with toys and books lined one short wall.
Claire studiously put the big pieces of an elephant puzzle back together. Almost as though she was afraid to make eye contact with me. Did she feel awkward after what had happened in the car yesterday or from me catching her singing? No way was I going to ask. Much better to pretend like nothing was different.
She finally looked up. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why’re you here?”
“Oh, right. Just answering your text in person. I didn’t get it until after work last night and decided not to chance waking you up. And since I was on my way home from dropping my brothers at a birthday party, I decided to stop by.”
Jack crawled into her lap, forcing her to move the puzzle away. “So can you do breakfast tomorrow morning?”
“I have a problem.”
She smiled like she was thinking everyone knows that. “What?”
“I have to spend the weekend at my mom’s place in Farmers Branch.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“She doesn’t see us very often, so she usually doesn’t want me to go anywhere.”
“Oh. But can you still do it? We’ll only be there an hour and a half or so. Then you can get right back.”
Including travel time, I’d be gone for two and a half hours, and then I had to go to work at one o’clock. My mom would be angry, but I’d deal with it. “Okay. I might have to leave before everyone else, though.”
“That’s okay.”
“Is there anything I should know?”
“Like what?”
“Like … Lindsey thinks eggs and sausage are disgusting and would never date anyone who ate them.”
She let out a breathy laugh. “No. Lindsey is a great respecter of food. You’ll have no problem there.”
Good to hear her laugh again. Maybe the awkwardness had passed. “Where will I have a problem?”
“The usual.”
“Ouch. You didn’t have to answer so fast.”
“No, no. I meant if you end up just staring at her and not talking, then it’ll be a problem.”
Was her face pink again? Probably. Things were definitely still weird.
“Especially because there’ll probably be a couple of theater guys there and they like to talk. A lot.”
“So I’ll psych myself up for talking.”
“Good.”
Another long, awkward silence. And almost as if he knew the conversation was failing, little Jack climbed to his feet and toddled over to me. He grabbed his sippy cup from the end table and drank, leaving behind a thin purple mustache and a grin. Which reminded me of Claire’s cinnamon roll icing mustache, which reminded me of her soft lips, which made me want to beat myself to a pulp.
I jumped on the first topic I could think of. “I’ve been wondering about something.”
“Yeah?”
“Why’re you helping me with all this? I thought you didn’t want to get so involved.”
Claire picked up a stack of puzzles and set them in one of the cubbyholes. “Let’s just say … Adam and I are not best friends.”
“So you’re trying to get rid of Castro.”
“Um … ”
“Admit it. You are.”
“What I’m trying to do is give you and Lindsey opportunities to hang out. If that means Adam and Lindsey break up, then I won’t be too upset.”
I laughed. “Why don’t you just come right out and say you don’t like him? You don’t usually hide your opinions.”
The little thinking frown wrinkled her forehead. “I guess I’m worried I might hurt Lindsey somehow.”
That was sweet of her. “Oh.”
She leaned forward. “And you’ve got to promise you won’t tell her what I’ve said about Adam.”
“Of course. Why would I?”
She shrugged. Jack patted my knee and grinned, flashing all four of his upper teeth.
“Oh, I just remembered,” Claire said. “Good news. Adam may be staying away longer than we thought.”
“Really? Why?”
“Who knows? But now we have a little more time.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
She looked like she was about to laugh but didn’t. “Of course it’s good. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know. I’d always thought getting to know Lindsey would take longer than just a week and a half anyway. I never figured I’d make much progress.”
“You’re missing the point. Right now, you can spend time with her with no Adam to distract her and no real competition. That’ll change once school starts.”
And, of course, if I had competition, I had no chance. But maybe that wasn’t what she meant. “Right.”
Claire stood and straightened her T-shirt. “I need to take Jack outside before it gets too hot. You want to come?”
“Sure.”
***
After chasing and being chased by Jack for about fifteen minutes, Claire and I sat on the concrete patio in the shade and watched him try to kick a ball around in the grass. The whole running around and laughing thing helped get rid of the uncomfortable feeling between us. At least it did for me.
Kids’ voices and the occasional squeal came from a nearby backyard. Somewhere in the distance, a lawn mower started. Jack put his foot on top of the ball and tumbled into the grass. He got up and tried again.
“Doesn’t look like he has a future as a soccer player,” I said.
“Pfftt. He’s fifteen months old. Give him a break.”
“They all start that young. He should be running drills already.”
“Right.” She looked at me sideways through her semi-darkened glasses. “Speaking of starting young, you need to be thinking about coming up with a grand gesture.”
“A what?”
“Something big, something romantic. Something that’ll let Lindsey know you’re serious about liking her.”
“What does that have to do with starting young?”
“Nothing. I just remembered it.”
Why did I suddenly want to reach over and pull her hair? I felt like I was in fifth grade, trying to get the attention of a girl I liked. A girl I liked. Yes, Claire was a girl. Yes, I liked her. But not like I liked L
indsey. Right? Focus, Gray.
“So a grand gesture,” I said. “Would that be like dressing up as the Phantom?”
Her whole face lit up like someone had thrown the floodlight switch at a stadium. “That would be awesome! Did you watch the movie?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“It’s kind of weird.”
Claire laughed. “That’s what makes it so good. Let’s see. If not the Phantom, you could do a Romeo thing and talk to her outside her window at night. Pretend she’s on a balcony.”
“Seriously? Girls like that?”
Jack toddled over and sat on her shins. She grunted and slid him off to sit between us. He patted my leg. “Or if you’re worried about what to say,” she continued as though I hadn’t said anything, “I could do the Cyrano de Bergerac thing and hide, then whisper to you so you know what to say.”
She’d lost me. “What’re you talking about?”
“You’ve never read Cyrano? It’s a play.”
“No.”
“Or seen the movie Roxanne?”
“Uh, maybe. I don’t remember.”
Jack clambered to his feet. “Let’s go to the slide, sweetie,” Claire said, getting up and taking his hand. She gazed down at me. “In the play, Cyrano tells this guy what to say—” Jack tugged her forward. “Never mind,” she said over her shoulder. “All you need to know is if you want to stand outside her window at night and say romantic things, I can be there to help.”
Why were girls so complicated? I got up. “Sounds like a bad idea to me.”
“Me being there? Or doing it?”
“Any of it.” I followed them to the toddler slide where Claire held Jack’s hands as he slid down. “Doesn’t sound like something I could do.”
“Well, what could you do?”
Jack ran around and climbed up the two steps of the slide. “I don’t know. Take her out to dinner or something? ‘Course that couldn’t happen until she and Adam were through.”
“Gray. You’ve got to think big. We’re talking about something that’ll impress her, not something just anybody could do.”
Jack waved a hand. “A! A!”
I took his hands and helped him down the slide. “Why doesn’t he go down by himself?” I asked while the kid ran around to climb up again.
Life in the No-Dating Zone Page 8