“Shh,” Claire said. He’s afraid, she mouthed.
“A! A!”
Fear, yeah. “It’s okay, buddy,” I muttered, “I get it.”
“What?” Claire asked.
“Nothing. C’mon, let’s swing him up when he hits the ground.”
We each took a little pudgy hand, helped Jack slide, then lifted him up. He squealed. But it was a happy sound. A door shut behind us. We turned as a unit, still swinging Jack back and forth.
“Hey!” It was Lindsey, all gleaming reddish-brown hair and short shorts.
Adrenaline rushed through me. I wished I were racing my bike down the road. Or jogging. Anything to not be standing there unprepared.
She grinned as she came toward us. “Don’t y’all just look like a cute little family.”
Twenty
Claire
A family? I wanted to jump away from Gray, but we both had ahold of Jack and dropping him was not ideal. “Hey! Whatcha doing?” I called to Lindsey, more than a little bit peeved. Why was everyone just dropping by today? Hadn’t they heard of text messages?
She strolled closer, looking like every guy’s dream, whereas I looked like I’d spent all morning playing with a baby. My lavender T-shirt had big dark drool splotches on it and I had on old gray sweatpants I’d cut off at the knees to make shorts.
“You left your swimsuit at my house last night,” Lindsey said.
“I did? How weird. I didn’t even miss it.”
Jack wriggled, so I lowered him to the ground. Thank goodness Gray was with it enough to do the same. We let go of Jack’s hands and he toddled toward a Frisbee on the grass.
Lindsey handed over my bright yellow bikini, which, for some absurd reason, I wanted to shove into my shorts pocket. Like I was trying to hide my underwear. But I didn’t. There was no way it would fit. Instead, I scrunched it up in a ball in one hand.
Lindsey put a hand on her hip. “Thank you very much, Lindsey, I’ve been looking for that everywhere.”
Good. A joke. I lightly smacked my forehead. “Oh my gosh. Thank you so much. I’ve been frantic. I had no idea what happened to it.”
We laughed and Gray shook his head at us.
“So what’s up, Gray?” Lindsey asked.
“Nothing much,” he said, looking only mildly panicked. Good for him. “We’ve been talking about breakfast tomorrow.”
“So you’ll be there? Awesome. You’ll get to see how grumpy Claire is first thing in the morning.”
“No grumpier than you are,” I said.
“Wait,” Gray said. “What time are we meeting?”
“Not too early,” I said.
Lindsey laughed. “Right. Like seven thirty isn’t early.”
Gray gaped. “What!”
I pushed Lindsey’s shoulder. “Quit. She’s joking. We’re not meeting until ten.”
“Oh, good.”
Jack reappeared and grabbed Gray around the knee. “Up!”
Gray swung him up into his arms, making the baby squeal.
Lindsey raised an eyebrow. “How very domestic of you.”
Gray’s tanned face darkened as though he was blushing, but I couldn’t be sure. Guess I’d better help him out. “Let’s go in. Y’all want something to drink?”
“No, thanks,” Lindsey said. “I have to pick up the dry cleaning for mommy dearest.”
“I need to go, too,” Gray said.
We left Jack—and my bikini—with my mom in the kitchen, then headed out front. I blinked against the bright sunshine, hoping they’d both leave quickly. What with the awkwardness I felt around Gray and the sudden appearance of Lindsey, I just wanted to hide in my room and read. Anything to get my mind off the two of them.
A familiar-looking dark blue car drove slowly past Lindsey’s SUV and Gray’s Toyota, then disappeared around the curve in the street. Where had I seen it before? I couldn’t remember.
We stepped away from the front stoop and Lindsey faced Gray. “So, you still working at the movie theater?”
Caution clouded his expression. “Yeah, why?”
She placed a hand on his arm. “You think you could get us free tickets sometime?”
A soft chuckle came out. “Maybe.”
I probably should have been watching to see if Gray needed any conversational help, but just then the dark blue car came from the other direction. What the heck? I couldn’t tell who was driving, but long blond hair shone through the window. And there was someone in the passenger seat.
“Earth to Claire,” Lindsey said. “What’s the matter?”
I gave my head a small shake. “That’s the second time that car has driven by.”
Lindsey swung around in time to see the car race up the street. “Looks like Amy Acton’s car.”
Gray and I stared at each other. He mouthed something I didn’t get, and then Lindsey turned back. “How do you know?” I asked.
Her lips twisted. “The little twit is friends with Adam. She’s always hated me because he asked me out.”
“I didn’t know they were friends.”
“Yup. But he doesn’t spend much time with her anymore. Ergo, she hates me.”
“Did you see how many people were in the car?” Gray asked.
“Two, I think.”
Gray gave me an anxious look, which I translated as, They’re really following me! What are we going to do now?
But I didn’t have an answer, so I lifted my shoulders in the tiniest shrug possible.
Lindsey looked from one of us to the other and back again. “Okay, what’s all this telepathy between you two? Tell Aunt Lindsey what’s going on.”
“It’s nothing,” Gray said.
“C’mon. You can’t fool me. Y’all were communica—” A shrewd look passed over her face. “Wait a second. Is Amy Acton your stalker?”
“No!” Gray and I said at the same time.
“How stupid do you think I am?”
“Really, Lindsey,” I said. “She’s not.”
“Then who is?”
This time Gray and I stayed silent. It was getting creepy how we kept responding the same way. But being quiet didn’t slow Lindsey down one bit.
“Was it the other person in the car?”
“I couldn’t tell who that was,” I said.
“But you think you know.”
I opened my mouth, but Gray surprised me by answering. “Nyssa Staphos. They go everywhere together.”
“Really?” Lindsey smiled. Hugely. “So, she’s stalking you, huh?”
Gray stared at the sidewalk. “I … she keeps showing up.”
“Uh-huh. Sounds like a stalker. Do you like her?”
“She’s nice, I guess.”
“I mean, do you want to go out with her?”
“No.”
“Perfect! Then Claire and I will help get rid of her.” She was practically rubbing her hands together.
“Lindsey,” I said, in a warning tone. “What’re you planning?”
“Nothing yet. But I love a good stalker sabotage, don’t you?”
Gray laughed. “Depends on what that means.”
Lindsey considered us. “Hmm. Maybe she could catch you and Claire in a clinch.”
Gray started coughing. I couldn’t tell if he was covering a laugh or choking over the idea of hugging me.
“Lindsey, stop,” I said. “You’re embarrassing Gray.” And me.
She gave me a knowing look. “I think I’m embarrass—”
“Is that them again?” Gray said, staring at the street.
The dark blue car approached.
“Quick,” Lindsey said. “Hug.”
I refused to look at Gray, but I could practically feel the awkward waves rolling off of him. When we just stared at her, Lindsey grabbed her head dramatically. “Agh! Why do I have to do everything?” She closed in on Gray and slid her hands behind his neck. A dark red color crawled up his cheeks. “Put your arms around me, quick.”
Twenty-One
C
laire
Gray settled his hands on Lindsey’s sides as though he was afraid he’d catch on fire. He’d better not faint.
“They still there, Claire?” Lindsey asked.
“Yup. Slowing down too.”
Lindsey let out a fake laugh, then turned them so their sides were to the street. Guess she figured Gray’s stunned expression would give them away. “C’mon, loosen up,” she said. “This isn’t a middle school dance.”
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, sounding kind of like Mickey Mouse.
“Pull me closer.”
He did, sliding his hands to her back. I couldn’t watch anymore. I ripped a leaf off one of my mom’s geraniums and rubbed it between my fingers. Its citrusy scent was usually calming, but not right now. Why was their hug bothering me? It’s what I wanted, wasn’t it? More importantly, it’s what Gray wanted. He wasn’t interested in me. And I needed to not be interested in him. Maybe I could just sneak into the house while they weren’t looking.
“Still watching?” Lindsey asked.
At first I thought she meant me, which seemed like a really weird question. But then I realized she was talking about the people in the car. “Yeah. They’re practically parking in the middle of the street.”
“Good,” Lindsey said. “On my signal, look right at them and wave.”
“All right.” I looked back at her and Gray. I couldn’t stop myself. It was like a huge magnet had turned my head toward them. I had to see what she was going to do.
Lindsey gave Gray a sweet smile, then stroked his cheek. “Now.”
I made a show of looking like I’d just noticed the car in the street. Then smiled and waved enthusiastically. Tires squealed as the car sped away.
Lindsey broke away from Gray, laughing. “Perfect! Absolutely perfect! That’ll teach them to stalk you.”
Gray ran a hand through his hair, causing a couple of white-blond pieces to stick out. “Thanks, I think.” He sounded more like himself.
Lindsey smiled. “You did great. Really. Let us know if they bother you anymore. We can come up with something even more elaborate.”
Who was this “we” she was talking about? She could leave me out of it.
She frowned a little. “I just wish y’all had been the ones hugging. Now they’re going to wonder what’s up with me and Adam.”
Now there were two subjects I didn’t want to get into. “Oh, hey,” I said, lifting my phone to look at the time, “I don’t mean to rush y’all, but I have to get ready to go babysit.”
“No problem,” Gray said, “I need to get going.”
“Me too,” Lindsey said, backing up. “Talk to y’all later.”
“Bye!” I said, then ducked into the house and shut the door. I dashed over to the window in the living room and peeked around the curtain. Lindsey and Gray were walking to their cars. Not slowly—not like they wanted to linger and talk some more. They paused, said something, then waved and got into their cars.
How anticlimactic. I was expecting at least a little more flirting and forearm touching. Why would Gray waste such a great opportunity?
I hadn’t even left the living room when Lindsey’s call came in. I headed upstairs so my mom couldn’t overhear me. “Yeah?”
“If that guy likes me, I’m a math whiz!” she said.
“Why do you say that?”
“We were wrapped around each other and he wouldn’t even look me in the eye. He looked like he wanted to puke.”
I laughed. “He’s really shy. You just make him nervous.”
“Maybe. And maybe you’re just wrong about him liking me.”
“Maybe.” I went into my room, lay back on the bed, and stared at the spinning ceiling fan. “But I doubt it.”
“In fact—watch where you’re going, you idiot!—sorry. If I were to guess, I’d say he likes you.”
“He doesn’t like me, Linds, I’m positive. We’re just friends.”
“Still going with that, huh? Okay. We’ll see who’s right. Hey, you want to hang out later? After babysitting?”
“I probably can after dinner. I just need to check.”
“Okay. Let me know.”
We said our goodbyes and hung up. I rested my phone on my stomach, then stretched my arms up in the air. What a weird morning.
“Who doesn’t like you?”
I jerked upright, causing my phone to slide onto the carpet. My mom stood in the doorway, one hand on her hip. So much for not being overheard. I picked up my phone. “Geez, Mom, you scared me. I thought you were downstairs.”
“I just put Jack down for a morning nap. Y’all wore him out.” She tilted her head. “Were you talking about Gray?”
I wanted to say, None of your business, but I knew the less I made of the situation, the quicker she’d stop with the questions. “Yes.”
“I think Lindsey is right.”
“Mom.”
She lifted a hand. “Hear me out. He comes over a lot, you text each other all the time, and you get along really well.”
“That’s what friends do, Mom. He likes Lindsey. He told me.”
“He’s a really bad match for Lindsey.”
“I know, but he likes her.”
“I think he likes the idea of her.”
I got up. “Now you sound like Dad.”
She smiled. “Well, your father is pretty smart. Once Gray realizes how much better he likes you, he’ll ask you out. Just wait.”
I opened my T-shirt drawer so I could have my back to her. I didn’t want her working the psychic magic that helped her read my face. Because the thought of Gray asking me out made me want to jump up and down. Even though I’d have to say no. “It won’t matter. I’m not—”
“Dating in high school. Yes, I know.” She came in and sat on my bed. “But I don’t really know why.” She waved a hand around by her head. “Oh, I know what you’ve said. You want to concentrate on school, not a social life. But I think there’s more to it.”
“Mom. Do we have to do this right now?”
“Don’t try to change the subject.”
“But I have to get ready to go to the Petersons’.”
She gave me her intent look and I knew I was in for it. There was no way she’d leave without some sort of answer. “Does this have anything to do with Mimi and Carl?” she asked.
My brain scrambled for an answer. If I said yes, would she make the connection to how chaotic life had been three years ago? To how many times Dad had packed a bag and gone to a hotel? Because I really didn’t want to go there. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you made that no-dating vow when we were in the middle of all their drama. I figure you want to avoid all that in your own life.”
This was getting scarily close to the truth. I had to say something to move this discussion where I wanted it to go. “Yeah, pretty much. I definitely don’t want to get married right out of high school. You know I want to go to college, Mom.”
Her expression cleared. “Yeah, I know. And you will. Remember, you and Mimi are very different people. She’s always been very intense, her emotions out for everyone to see. You’re a lot more level-headed.”
“Um, thanks?”
“I’m not insulting either of you. I just wanted to remind you that you are different from your sister. Your choices will be different.”
“Exactly. I’m choosing not to date.”
She laughed and stood. “Okay, I can see I’m not getting through to you.”
She said it in a jokey way, and I loosened my chokehold on the T-shirt I held. I smiled briefly. “You know how stubborn I am.”
“Right.” She headed out but paused in the doorway. “It’s good to have solid plans, Claire. But it also can’t hurt to keep your options open.”
“I know. Thanks, Mom.” I swung my clean T-shirt back and forth so she’d notice. “I need to change.”
“Just think about it.”
“I will.”
She shut the door. Whew. That
was a close one. She’d actually sounded worried. It was almost enough to make me consider going out with someone once or twice. Ha. Or not.
Twenty-Two
Gray
I shoveled my last bite of eggs in my mouth and glanced at Lindsey’s plate. It was clean. Almost as if it had already been through IHOP’s dishwasher. That girl sure could eat. She’d devoured a full stack of pancakes and a side of fruit, and just snagged a piece of bacon from Parker’s plate. She’d already eaten all my bacon.
But that was cool. The fact that Lindsey felt comfortable enough to grab food off my plate made it totally worth it. This whole setup—sitting next to her, hanging with a group of friends—was everything I’d been looking for. Now we had the chance to get to know each other better. I still wasn’t great at the whole talking thing, but Rose’s new boyfriend Sam was on my other side, making it less awkward when I couldn’t think of anything to say. I’d just turn toward Sam and Rose like I was part of their conversation. Not the best move, but not the worst either.
I was sitting beside Lindsey Taylor, inhaling the flowery scent of her hair. A part of her group. Compared with last week, it seemed like I’d fallen into someone else’s life.
The only irritating thing was Claire. She sat across the huge U-shaped booth, cutting her pancakes into perfect little triangle bites. Nothing new there. But she was next to Mike, who tried to put his arm around her almost every five minutes. She’d shrug him off, but still smile and laugh at the stupid stuff he said. Didn’t she realize she was only encouraging him?
But maybe that was what she wanted. Though it didn’t make any sense. Claire was too smart to hang out with someone as ridiculous as Mike. I drank more coffee. Whatever. It wasn’t my problem.
Mike laughed at something Claire said. I turned away. Lindsey was grinning at Marta, one of the more extreme drama geeks. At school, she was always wearing different hats or wigs, depending on who she wanted to be that day. Today she wore a black and white horizontally striped shirt and a black beret. All she needed was the mime makeup.
Marta pursed her lips at Lindsey. “Look, nobody can really know theater unless they’ve done Chekhov.”
Life in the No-Dating Zone Page 9