We got to school right on time, and I took a few deep breaths to slow my adrenaline rush as I settled into my desk in economics. It felt good to give myself permission to be guilt free. I’d have to try it more often. I’d have to try lots of things more often.
I popped my head into the newspaper office before Spanish to make sure Colby got my email and he wasn’t getting ready to fire me. Talk about piling awkward on top of awkward—he was alone in the office, and we hadn’t been alone together since that balloon incident.
“Hey, Colby,” I said, deciding to act like nothing was wrong whatsoever. “Did you get my article?”
He swiveled around from facing his monitor. “I’m just reading it over now. This was a good idea.”
“It was? I mean, thanks.” That was unexpected, but I’d take it.
“So, I noticed you left school early yesterday.”
He’d noticed that? He hadn’t paid the slightest bit of attention to me since the dawn of time, but he noticed that? “I had some stuff to work out.”
He nodded. “I figured as much. Hope everything’s all right now.”
“I think it will be.” Wow. We were having an actual conversation. With nouns and stuff.
“Good. So yeah, this was a good idea.” He motioned to the computer, where my article was still up on the screen. “Oh, and Jill? Listen. I’m still not dating this year or anything, but I just wanted to tell you thanks for the balloon. It was really sweet. And kinda flattering. So, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” I’d never realized that awkward conversations could also be positive. “I’d better get to class.”
“Yeah. See you later.”
Scotty was coming in the office just as I was going out, and he smiled at me. A really cute smile. Something welled up inside me—I’m not sure if it was courage or insanity—and I said, “Hey, so, about that offer.”
“What offer?” He flashed another grin.
“That offer where you asked me out and I said no and you said to let you know if I changed my mind.”
“Oh, that offer.” He leaned against the wall of the hallway and looked thoughtful. “I do think I remember that. What about it?”
“I might change my mind on Friday.”
“Friday, huh?”
We were flirting now, and to my surprise, I was actually enjoying it. I’d been convinced that there would be no life after Colby. Apparently, I’d been wrong.
“Well, since you have humbled yourself and come to beg forgiveness, I’m sure something can be arranged.”
I snorted. “Humble? Beg? In your dreams. Your dreams, I say.”
He laughed. “Okay, no humility here. But that’s fine. I can work with that. So how about seven?”
“Seven’s great.”
By the time I continued down the hall, I was already a minute late for Spanish, but I decided I didn’t care. Flirting with a cute guy was not something that happened to me every day, and it would also go on my guilt-free list.
Mr. Bell had asked everyone affiliated with the play to meet in the auditorium after school. I was more than a little nervous. Here I was, having never done a play before in my life, and now I had the lead? Dylan kept grinning at me reassuringly. We never had gotten together to run lines—there had been a ton going on. We’d have to make that a priority if I didn’t want to make a big, huge mess out of the whole thing. Amanda gave my shoulder a quick squeeze as she sat down beside me. I was glad she’d be there through the whole process to cheer me on.
“Welcome to our production of Anne of Green Gables,” Mr. Bell said, taking up a position at the foot of the stage. “I’m glad you’re all here. Let me take a minute to run through your parts and assignments, in case you were all so excited about seeing your own name on the list that you forgot to see who else was going to be here.” Laughter rippled around the room.
“Jill will be playing Anne, and Dylan is Gilbert,” Mr. Bell began. “Heather is Diana.”
I glanced over to where Heather sat. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest and she stared straight ahead, as if defying anyone to talk to her. I wondered how someone so full of resentment would play someone as sweet as Diana. Maybe she would get over it by opening night. I could hope, right?
Mr. Bell went through the rest of the cast and then introduced the crew. Amanda stood up and waved when he mentioned the set designers, and everyone laughed again. She had that effect on people.
We talked about the rehearsal schedule, and then Mr. Bell handed out the scripts. My name was on a white sticker on my copy, and for some reason I couldn’t explain, that made me happy. It felt official, like I belonged.
After the meeting ended, I went up front to talk to Mr. Bell about whether he thought I should dye my hair or wear a wig. We tossed ideas back and forth and decided to give dyeing it a try a week beforehand to see how it went. When I turned back to find Dylan and Amanda, Dylan was nowhere to be seen, but Amanda was talking to a cute boy from my Spanish class—I couldn’t remember his name. She was looking up at him and smiling—a lot like I’d been smiling at Scotty earlier—and I glanced around again. Where was Dylan? Why wasn’t he here fighting for his woman? This was wrong—so very, very wrong!
I walked over. “Hey, Amanda. Are you about ready to go?”
“Sure, in a minute. This is Ethan. Ethan, this is Jill.”
Ethan smiled and gave me a nod. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Not the most intelligent greeting. Dylan would have come up with something a lot more clever. Where was he?
“Ethan’s on the set crew too. We’re going to hang out and make a list of everything we need so we can talk to Mr. Bell and see what we already have.”
“That sounds like fun,” I said, trying to be polite. I glanced around again. Oh, there was Dylan. He was over in the corner, talking to Heather. Or, to be more accurate, he was listening to Heather talk to him. And he looked like he needed to be rescued. I slipped away from Amanda and Ethan—not that either of them would notice that I was leaving—and went over to Dylan’s side.
“I just think that as the star of the show, you should have more input as to who plays your romantic love interest,” Heather was saying.
“But I’m not the lead. The play is Anne of Green Gables, not Gilbert of Prince Edward Island.”
Heather threw me a look. “And I’m sure there’s nothing you’d do about it, Jill—coming in at the last minute and stealing my role. And don’t look so smug. You know Mr. Bell was going to choose me.”
Oooo . . . the daggers in her eyes . . . “I actually don’t know who he was planning to choose. He never told me. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I need to talk to Dylan for a minute.”
“Fine. Just . . . fine.” She turned on her heel and strode away.
“That was pretty awkward,” Dylan said, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. “Thanks for coming over.”
“Not a problem. But you’re needed over there.” I thumbed over my shoulder.
“I am?”
“Yes. Amanda is making friends. With someone named Ethan.”
Dylan glanced over that way. “I’m not sure why I’m needed.”
Why did boys have to be so dense? “Because she’s talking to a boy.”
“Is he threatening her?”
Ugh! Would I have to spell this out for him? “Just go over and say hi, would you?”
Dylan shrugged. “Okay, if you want me to.”
He walked over, and soon, all three of them were chatting away. I didn’t get guys. I just didn’t get them.
Even though my article in the next day’s paper wasn’t new, everyone really seemed to like it. They came up to me in the halls, laughing and telling me how much they enjoyed it. I admit, I could be a pretty funny person, and the articles we’d chosen were particularly good. I was glad that my little last-minute patch job had been so successful. I’d have to get Amanda some thank-you cheesecake for making such an awesome suggestion.
I’d really fallen behind on my comm
itment to Bruce that week, and I’d decided that morning that I was going to make it up to him. I had a great idea, and I asked Scotty if he’d help me.
“You couldn’t wait to see me tonight, so you came up with this plan so you could hang out with me today, didn’t you? I see right through you, Jill.”
“Yes, I made this whole thing up because seven o’clock can’t come fast enough for me.” I rolled my eyes. “Will you help me?”
He chuckled. “Okay. What did you need again?”
I told him that I had a friend in the hospital, and I wanted to cheer him up by bringing him pictures of me doing silly things. Scotty had a good sense of humor, and he went along with everything I wanted to do all during our lunch period. He took a picture of me planting a kiss on the cheek of our school mascot, Cody the Cougar. That was to fulfill the task of showing more school spirit. I ran around and picked up a bunch of trash in the parking lot to give some service to the community. And he took a shot of me painting my fingernails Rockin’ Rooster Red, the shade I’d chosen for one girl to wear to Homecoming.
“Sure, I’ll print these out for you,” Scotty said as we parted ways after lunch. “I’ll give them to you in journalism, okay?”
“Great. Thanks.”
He winked at me as he headed down the hall.
Bruce was sitting up in his hospital bed when I got there. He looked a whole lot better, and his mom smiled when I walked in.
“Hi, Jill. It’s good to see you again.”
“You too. Hey, Bruce.”
“Hey.”
“I brought you something.” I handed him the small stack of pictures. Scotty had used the color printer in the newspaper office to run them off, and they’d turned out pretty well.
Bruce shook his head as he flipped through them. “You’re crazy, Jill. You know that?”
“Well, I figured that since you weren’t at school to check up on me, I’d have to get more creative.”
“I’m going to call your grandma and see how the kids are doing, okay?” Bruce’s mom ducked out of the doorway. I don’t know why she felt like she should leave—it’s not like I was Bruce’s girlfriend and she needed to give us some privacy or something.
“How many brothers and sisters do you have?” I asked.
“Three. Two sisters and one brother. They’re ten, seven, and five.”
I nodded. “And when do you get to go home?”
Bruce tried to shift a little in the bed, but he winced and stayed where he was. “A couple more days, but they don’t want me back at school that fast, and I’m done with football for this year. This is going to ruin my chances of getting a sports scholarship.”
His whole situation just kept getting worse and worse. It seemed like no matter which way you looked at it, he’d come out the loser in this thing. Sure, his dad was in jail where he belonged, but was there any part of Bruce’s life that hadn’t been messed up?
I didn’t stay very long. We didn’t have a lot to talk about and it was pretty awkward anyway, trying to come up with something to say when he and I weren’t exactly on best-buddy terms to start with. I didn’t think we’d ever see each other the same way, though. We’d been through too much for that.
Chapter Seventeen
Scotty showed up right at seven, his dark hair looking a little damp from a shower. He hadn’t told me what we were going to do on our date, and I wasn’t sure if I was dressed right. But when I saw his nice jeans and button-down green shirt, I figured I was good in my blouse.
I couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to him as we drove to the restaurant. He stayed right with me every time my brain took one of its random detours. By the time we’d finished eating, I’d realized how much I’d misjudged him. I had to blame it on Colby, who had totally blinded me to anyone else.
When Scotty reached over and took my hand halfway through the movie, I let him. His hand was warm and strong, and I felt really comfortable letting down my guard. I wasn’t feeling romantic and tingly—more like, friendly and safe. I kept thinking about what Dylan had said about my need to start letting people in. I knew he was talking specifically about Amanda, but I could use that advice in my relationships with anyone. Plus, holding hands was fun, and I hadn’t done that for a long time.
“Thanks for coming with me tonight, Jill,” Scotty said as we reached my house. He pulled the car into the driveway and shut off the ignition, but neither of us made a move to get out. “Now that you’ve gotten over your hang-up about dating, can we do it again sometime?”
I grinned. “It wasn’t so much a phobia as a well-founded fear. But yeah, I’d like to.”
He reached over and gave my hand another squeeze, then got out and came around to open my door. Yep, I had totally misjudged him.
My next date, the one with my dad on Saturday afternoon, didn’t go nearly so well. Not that I was trying to compare a date with a cute guy to an outing with my father—that would be weird—but I knew something was wrong as soon as Dad stopped by to get me. He had a little crease between his eyebrows, the one he always gets when he’s thinking too hard or worrying too much.
We went out to lunch, and he asked me about school. I told him about getting the lead in the play, which shocked him as much as it had shocked me. But then he smiled.
“I’m proud of you, Jill. I really am. That took a lot of courage.”
“Tell me about it. I’m still a little nauseated just from auditioning—I don’t know how I’m going to make it on stage.”
“When do rehearsals start?”
“Monday. I’ve got to spend some time tonight memorizing lines so I’ll be ready.”
He chuckled, although it sounded tight. “I thought you had the books and the movies already memorized.”
“I do, pretty much, but the play’s a little different. They had to adapt it to the stage and stuff.”
“Yeah, I guess they would.” Dad stabbed his salad with his fork a few times, then laid it down next to his plate. “Jill, we need to talk.”
So he was finally going to get around to telling me whatever it was he’d brought me here to say. I’d been wondering how long it would take him.
“I know it’s only been two weeks since your mother and I separated, but we’re already so much happier that we’ve decided to go through with the divorce.”
Wow. Nothing like giving it a good last shot. Two weeks had to be some kind of record. I looked down at my plate, thinking I was probably still full from my dinner with Scotty and that’s why I hadn’t eaten very much. Maybe if Dad realized that two weeks was far too fast to be making such a final decision—
No.
I wasn’t going to do this again.
I had feelings, and I had a right to those feelings. I didn’t have to stamp them down with logic and facts and figures. I wasn’t going to hide from them anymore.
“Jill?”
I glanced up. Dad was waiting for me to respond, the worry line more pronounced now than it had been a moment before.
I took a deep breath. “I can’t pretend to be happy about it, and I’m not going to pretend that everything’s fine, because it’s not. It’s awful. It’s horribly, horribly awful.” I paused, emotions swelling inside me. “But I’m not going to try to talk you out of it—it’s your decision.”
He leaned back a little bit. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
“Well, I wasn’t expecting to say it.” I took a sip of my water, then swirled my straw around in my glass. “Tell you what. Let’s all give each other space to deal with it, okay? I won’t be on your case about all the reasons why you shouldn’t do it, and if I get up and run away from this table, you’ll be okay with that too.”
“Are you about to run away?”
“Um, sort of.”
Dad gave a faint smile and reached across the table to touch my hand. “I’m sorry, Jill. I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t have to be so hard on you.”
“But it is. Parents have to understand that everything th
ey do impacts their kids, for good and for bad.” Having an honest conversation was painful. Very painful. I felt like I had a shard of ice sticking out of my chest. But at the same time, by telling my dad how I felt, I knew we’d be okay eventually. The ice would melt. “I love you, Dad. And I want you to be happy. And I wish it could be with me and Mom, but if it can’t, then it can’t.”
“Hold on there a second. I’ve never said I was divorcing you too. I need you in my life, Jill. I’d never be happy if I lost you. And I’m not turning my back on your mother, either. We’re not together anymore, but we’re still friends, and that’s a connection I don’t want to lose.” He met my gaze and held it. “In fact, I took her out to dinner the other night while you were at Amanda’s. It wasn’t a date—it was more like going out with a good friend. We talked about you and we made some final decisions about the divorce paperwork, and you know what, it was nice to sit and talk and compromise with each other. We needed that.”
I studied his eyes for a moment. He seemed relaxed now that he’d broken the news to me and realized that I wasn’t going to fly off the handle. I could tell that he was finding a place of peace, and I realized that I’d never seen him this way. He’d always had a little edge on him, like he was poised to spring into action at any minute. This was better.
“I’m glad, Dad,” I said, thinking that maybe I meant it.
Dylan and Amanda were supposed to come over to my house that night so we could read over the script, but I got a text message about half an hour before they were supposed to show up. Ethan had asked Amanda out and she was really sorry, but she wanted to go, and would I hate her forever if she didn’t come over? I didn’t mind, but I wondered how Dylan would feel. I texted her back and told her it was fine. When Dylan showed up, I told him Amanda had a date, and then I watched his face very carefully. Was he going to be okay?
“No prob,” he said. “Let’s get to work.”
He was taking this really well. Maybe he wasn’t the jealous type, but I’d never met a guy who could be so impassive about the girl he liked dating some other guy. I knew he was super nice, but niceness could only go so far. It’s possible that he thought that if he hung in there patiently, she’d come around. I wouldn’t know what he was thinking unless I asked him, and I’d made a vow to myself that I was not going to get involved. My meddling days were over. Finished. In the past.
Take My Advice Page 11
