“Kate once told me that every woman deserved to own a little black dress. She said there was no such thing as ‘too much’ when it came to looking and feeling good. Your mother always looked gorgeous, Liv, no matter the occasion. Just try it on. I promise he’ll love it.”
Taking her word for it, I slipped into the dress, just to humor her. But once it was on and in place, I looked at myself in the full-length mirror, taken aback, all doubt fading.
“Wow,” I breathed. “Not bad.” And it wasn’t, not even a little bit. The dress was knee-length, made of fabric that seemed to correlate almost flawlessly with my figure. There was a scarf attached to the back of the dress, cascading down over my bare shoulders. The front was a V-neck, showing just enough cleavage for a first date, but without overdoing it.
Audrey reached over and pulled the tie from my hair, letting the brown waves flow naturally around my neck. I rarely wore it down, insisting it always got in the way, but tonight it felt wrong to pull it back.
I turned away from the mirror and closed my eyes, allowing Audrey to apply glimmering eyeshadow and a dab of red lipstick to my all-natural, freckled complexion. When I opened my eyes, she put her hand over her heart, looking like she might cry.
“You look so much like your mother,” she said.
I hugged her, wishing that my mom was with us. It took everything I had in me not to break down in sobs.
“Am I a horrible guardian?” she asked, wiping away a tear. “You’re not even eighteen yet. I’m terrible. Dereck would have skinned me alive.”
“It’s just a date,” I assured her, even though I knew it was true. My Dad had been very protective. “It’s just dinner.” But my stomach was doing flip-flops. Back in Michigan, I never had a boyfriend—and the only “date” I had ever been on involved a drunk sophomore boy puking a wine cooler all down my front before passing out in the back seat of my car.
Downstairs, the doorbell rang, and my tummy did one last round of flips and flutters. For a fleeting moment, I considered faking ill to get out of it, but I knew it was too late now. Blowing Elijah off because my nerves were shot was unfair to him.
“He’s here,” I said. I tried not to feel uncertain, but it was difficult not to. My stomach was doing flip-flops, and my knees were trembling and weak. Audrey smiled, but it didn’t put me at ease.
“You look like a million bucks. Can I say hello?”
“Not tonight. Please. You’ll scare him off.” I flushed, thinking about Audrey and Elijah making small talk in the living room—like this whole thing wasn’t awkward enough without Audrey playing twenty questions.
“I knew him before you did,” Audrey pointed out. Then she smiled with understanding and took my arm, walking me to the top of the stairs. She kissed my cheek. “Have fun tonight. Find a phone and call me if anything goes wrong. I love you.”
“Love you too,” I called, and I realized that was the first time I’d said it back. I made my way down the staircase, relieved that Audrey had agreed to dress me in flashy sandals instead of high heels. The night would have been doomed in three-inch heels. I took a deep breath and glanced over my shoulder to make sure Audrey had vanished from the top of the stairs, and then I opened the door.
“Hi, Elijah,” I said. I grabbed my purse and stepped onto the sidewalk, shutting the door behind me. I couldn’t stand there and give any more temptation to Audrey. That would be just cruel.
“Olivia,” said Elijah. “You look phenomenal.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You look nice, as well.”
And he did. He had on black slacks and a white button-up dress shirt, his hair combed back and his shoes a shiny black. If he would not run and hide, I would have jumped his bones right then.
“Shall we?” asked Elijah. He held out his arm for me, and I stepped off the porch, taking it. I hoped he wouldn’t notice the sweat forming on the palms of my hands. I wondered if I smelled bad. Had I put deodorant on? Yes. No. Yes.
Hopefully.
“Do you enjoy Italian?” Elijah asked. He opened the back door of the cab for me, and I slid in, careful not to let my dress ride up too far.
“The food or the men?” I joked. He looked at me quizzically for a moment, his head tilted to the side, and I took that as my cue to nod. “Yes, I love Italian. Food, that is.” If I’d had a spare hand, I would have slapped myself with it.
Elijah shut the door, went around to the other side, and climbed in next to me. I didn’t trust myself to open my mouth again, so I stayed silent, wondering if Elijah was any better than I was at making conversation. As the drive to town progressed without him uttering a word, it didn’t seem so.
“It’s a beautiful night,” I said, trying to sound pleasant. My stomach was still doing flip-flops. “At least it’s not raining.”
“It’s supposed to,” said Elijah.
“Oh.” Silence. I brushed my hair back and cleared my throat, at a loss for words. “Is there a reason for this?” I asked after a moment.
Elijah glanced over at me. I couldn’t read his expression. “A reason for what?”
“Asking me out.” As Elijah had predicted, raindrops fell on the hood of the cab. I sighed, trying to imagine what my hair would look like by the end of the night. The thought was terrifying.
“I didn’t realize I needed a reason to ask you out,” he said finally.
“Well, you do,” I said. “Generally, when a guy asks a girl to dinner, he does it for a reason. Say, for example, he’s attracted to her, he finds her funny, or he wants something from her.”
“All of the above,” Elijah said.
“It’s not a game.”
“I know it’s not. But I do find you attractive and funny. Not to mention intelligent and forward.”
“You missed one. Do you want something from me?”
“Yes.” Elijah turned and smiled. “I want you to relax and have fun tonight.”
We dined at a beautiful Italian restaurant downtown. It was the first time I had seen the rest of Seattle, not just the club, the apartment, and the school—and I couldn’t help but be impressed. The city was gorgeous at night. The lights were bright, the air was clean, and the residents were kind.
“I’m surprised with this city,” I told Elijah as we finished the main course of Linguine with lobster. He had ordered sparkling cider with dessert for the both of us; tiramisu, the best I’d ever tasted.
“I’m glad you like it here,” said Elijah. He was leaning back in his chair as he sipped his cider. He was so handsome.
“It’s pretty,” I admitted. “The air is so clean.”
“The rain does that,” Elijah pointed out. “Sometimes it’s not so bad.”
I smiled and held up my glass as he offered me more cider. I wished I were twenty-one as I swished the bubbly juice around in my fancy glass.
“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Durham?” I joked.
“Have I succeeded?” Elijah asked with a laugh.
I put the glass down, feeling hot under the collar as though we had been drinking wine and not cider. “Unfortunately, yes,” I said. I pretended to fan my face with the dessert menu. “Audrey would scold me for getting drunk on the first date. It’s unladylike.”
“I would usually agree with her, but if it keeps you from getting wound up like a ball of rubber bands, I’ll take my chances on the cider.”
“I am not wound up!” I glared at him, offended. Elijah nodded once and smiled.
“Valid argument. I can’t bring myself to fight that.”
I picked up my glass and took another sip before leaning forward, elbows on the table, to stare at him. “Elijah Durham, did anyone ever tell you that you, sir, are an ass?”
“Every day.” Elijah toasted his glass toward me and then swallowed the last bit of it, running a hand through his nicely combed hair. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I could use some fresh air. That cider—I mean wine—got to me. I’m a lightweight.”
Elijah signaled
for the check, paid, and escorted me back out into the street. For once, the bitter chill of the air felt good against my hot skin. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting the cold fill my lungs. Although it was late, after ten, people were still out, walking the sidewalks, cheery as ever. I stepped forward, stumbling over the first curb I came across. Elijah caught me by the arm, steadying me.
“I promise, doll, it was just cider,” he said with a grin.
“I’m a klutz,” I admitted. “Sorry.”
“Should we walk it off?”
“Yes.”
Elijah linked my arm in his, and we started down the street, window-shopping as we passed the quaint downtown shops. I felt so good next to him, on the arm of a handsome, distinguished, kind person. I’d had no luck finding one like him back in Michigan.
“I enjoyed the night,” I said. “Thank you for dinner.” I wanted to turn my head and kiss him, but I knew people didn’t like such a blunt move, so I clamped my lips shut as we moseyed down the street.
“Is the wine wearing off?” Elijah teased, resting his hand on the small of my back. The chill of his skin cut through the fabric, and I realized how cold I had become since we left the restaurant.
“My feet seem to have caught up with my legs,” I said. “Thanks.”
“I should take you home. I would hate to worry Audrey. She’s probably still standing at the top of the stairs, awaiting your arrival home.” Again, I flushed.
“You saw her there?”
Elijah only smiled as he waved down a cab and held the door open for me. I wished I’d brought a coat as the taxi took us back toward the apartment.
“I’m glad you enjoyed dinner,” he said when we were back at the apartment, sitting in the cab outside the front door. “I enjoyed tonight. So many girls at our school seem convinced that a good time lies in underaged drinking and promiscuous sex.”
“That sounds fun, too,” I admitted, and Elijah fell silent. Had someone told me earlier that my corny jokes only amused me, I would have quit while I was ahead. Now, it was much too late. “That was a joke,” I said. “First conclusion of the night: standup comedy is not in my near future.”
Face-palm. I sighed and turned to gaze out the window, wishing there had been wine. Then at least I’d have an excuse while acting like such an idiot.
“You’re a weirdo, aren’t you?” Elijah asked after a moment. As though he needed clarification. Right.
“The weirdest,” I said. A smile cracked his lips, surprising me.
“I like it.”
“Well, you know, I have a list of admirers, so join the club.”
Elijah was still chuckling as he pulled open the door for me. He walked me to the front step, and we lingered for a moment under the light. I wanted oh-so-badly to push myself to my tippy-toes and kiss him, but that wouldn’t be lady-like. So instead, I brushed my hair back and licked my lips, trying to look sultry. Elijah glanced away for a moment, toward the street. When he looked back at me, I nibbled on my bottom lip and then ran my tongue over it. I had heard somewhere that guys liked that. Cosmo, maybe. Not that it had done me any good.
“Do you have something on your face?” Elijah asked.
I sighed, withdrawing my tongue back into my mouth. “Goodnight,” I said. “Thank you for the awesome evening.” I turned and opened the front door, feeling like such a loser I wasn’t sure I could show my face at school again.
“Olivia, wait.”
I turned back, wondering if he was ready to kiss me.
Elijah stared at me, hesitating, and then backed off the step. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked. “At school.”
I nodded, unable to speak, and watched him retreat to the cab. With an inward sigh, I closed the door behind me and kicked off my sandals, relieved to be barefoot again and closer to my pajamas and bed. As I climbed the stairs, trying not to wake Noah and Audrey, I wondered what was so repelling about me.
I was tired at school Monday and almost fell asleep in history twice. Emma, bright-eyed and cheery as usual, took it upon herself to deliver two sharp kicks under the desk every time I wavered.
“What’s your deal?” Jesse whispered halfway through class. “You look like roadkill.”
“She went on a date last night,” Emma said. Her gaze narrowed in my direction. “Didn’t you, Liv? With Elijah.”
“Yeah,” I said, yawning. “I did.”
“No wonder,” Jesse muttered, and it was hard to ignore the bitterness in his tone. “Did he try to get into your pants? He’s known for that around the school. Just saying.”
After what Emma had told me on Friday night, I now knew Jesse’s interest in me. Despite feeling sorry about my date with Elijah, there was nothing I could do to make the whole thing better for Jesse. I knew that only time would heal whatever emotional wound I had inflicted on Jesse by going out with Elijah. He’d just have to get over it.
By the end of the hour, Jessie, who bailed a little too quickly for my liking, and the other students piled from the classroom. I was about to do the same when Mr. D pulled me aside.
“Is everything going okay at home, Olivia?” he asked. He was leaning back against the desk, arms folded. As per usual, he wore jeans and a T-shirt, his brown hair wild and unkempt. If I wasn’t fawning over my date with Elijah, I was certain I would have been dreaming of Mr. Devereaux, instead. Well, me and every other girl in school.
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “It was just a crazy weekend.”
Mr. Devereaux’s eyebrows shot up, and I wished I could take back my words. “Define crazy,” he said.
From the hallway, Emma was waving for me. She looked frantic. The crowd of people was thinning out. I knew the bell would ring at any moment.
“I have to go,” I said. “Don’t want to be late.” Mr. Devereaux didn’t stop me as I hurried away to Emma’s side, clutching my math book to my chest.
“What was Jake saying to you, Liv?” Emma asked.
I shrugged. “I think he just noticed how tired I was,” I said, and then yawned again. I needed a nap.
“Okay, well… be careful what you say to people,” Emma said. She stopped outside of her next classroom to look at me. “You wouldn’t want CPS showing up on Audrey’s door.”
“CPS?” I repeated. “What are you—?”
“Got to go, Liv,” she said, then waved a hand over her shoulder before vanishing into the classroom.
I stood there, dumbfounded, trying to sort out whatever had just happened. For the rest of the day, Emma’s comment stuck with me. I tried not to overthink it, but I found the task impossible as I dragged myself from class to class. The thought hadn’t even struck me until now, and yet Emma had made a strangely valid point. What would a social worker think about late nights and under-age drinking? Would they blame Audrey for not being a fit guardian? Would Noah and I be taken away? They couldn’t do that—could they? They could. They were the law. They could do whatever they wanted.
I forced that thought far from my mind and tried to focus on other things. Other things named Elijah, specifically. I hadn’t heard from him since he’d dropped me off after our date, and I had no classes with him, either. I had wracked my brain trying to determine what had gone wrong, but I could think of nothing. I, for one, had enjoyed myself. Hadn’t he?
When school ended, Noah and I took a cab over to the club, where Audrey had told us she would be. I knew she was trying to be around us all she could, even if that meant we went to her. I had no problem with it, especially when the others were there.
“Hey, guys,” Ed said with a smile as Noah and I came in, toting our backpacks. “Audrey’s in the back talking to Josie. Hang up your coat and stay a while.”
We sat down at one table and Ty brought us glasses of juice and a bowl of pretzels and peanuts. I was relieved when he didn’t bring up the night he found me drunk and puking in the park. That was a night I would be content never speaking about again. I didn’t see Marisol behind the bar, and I realized she had a li
fe outside of the club. They all did.
“I have homework,” Noah mumbled. He pulled out a math book and a piece of paper.
As I watched him get to work, I realized I hadn’t done one homework assignment since we’d been in Seattle. It was too late to feel guilty; I’d left all my books in my locker at school. Had my parents been there, they would have grounded me. But they weren’t here. Only Audrey was. So instead of worrying about it, I borrowed a piece of paper from Noah and doodled, drawing small hearts with Elijah’s name onto the paper.
A few minutes later, my brother mumbled a curse word under his breath and slammed down his pencil.
I looked at him, debating whether I should offer my help. I knew he would blow me off, tell me to mind my own business, and that he was fine. But he was struggling. I set down my pen and opened my mouth, but someone else beat me to it.
“What are you working on there, kiddo?” asked Ty. He was kneeling nearly at the stage, double-checking the row of lights for any burned out bulbs. I hadn’t realized he’d been paying attention. I looked back at Noah, whose face had turned red. With fury or embarrassment, I wasn’t sure.
“Pre-algebra,” he said finally. “Multiplying and dividing decimals. It’s stupid.” Ty jumped down from the stage and brushed the dust from his jeans. He smiled at Noah.
“Believe it or not, I was an honors math student in high school. Mind if I give it a whirl?” he asked. I looked back at my brother. An average kid would have taken the help. Noah, however, was a closed box—one not easily opened. He always had been. Accepting help from Ty would feel like weakness to him.
“It’s hard,” Noah said finally. “Harder than when you were in high school, probably.” He opened his book back up, but Ty sat down next to him anyway, still smiling. His expression was kind, patient.
“Alright, you got me,” he said. “I practiced it a bit in college, too.” It was my turn to be surprised.
“You went to college?” I asked. Ty laughed when he saw my expression. He ran a hand through his shaggy black hair and shrugged.
“Don’t look so surprised. I’m still in college, Liv. I’m going for my Master’s in Physics.” My jaw dropped. Even Noah looked impressed.
The Guys Next Door Page 7