Did he actually hear himself?
“Jake’s not wrong,” Bubba said slowly. “You don’t date. We know you don’t. You blow off every guy who has ever flirted with you. A couple of the girls thought you might swing that way, but…” He actually went a little red.
“Are you really mad at us because we made it clear you’re off-limits?” Coop asked, finally joining our conversation. He had to eel between Bubba and Jake to even get in the room. “Because we didn’t want anyone making you feel uncomfortable?”
“Did it occur to you to ask me what I wanted?”
They really thought they were all in the right.
“You made it pretty clear what you wanted,” Archie said bluntly. “I’m not going to apologize for having your back. You can’t ask any of us to apologize for protecting you.”
All at once, the tired hit again. I couldn’t do this. “You guys need to go.”
“Frankie,” Jake said taking a step toward me, but I held up a hand.
“Don’t. If you guys want to protect me so bad, just—go. I have to work tomorrow, I’m tired. I have to explain that table to my mom and I still have homework. Right now, I’d really rather be alone.”
They glanced at each other and then back at me.
“Call you tomorrow?” Bubba said and I just waved a hand at him.
“We’ll pay for the table,” Jake volunteered.
“I can take care of it,” Archie added. “We’ll plan another night for the escape room.”
I trailed after them as I herded them out. Coop dragged his heels and when he turned around, I shook my head. “I’m tired, Coop.”
“Can I come over tomorrow?” he asked, his voice low and far more sober than I think it ever had been.
“I have to work,” I reminded him. “And I’m busy tomorrow evening.” No, I wouldn’t explain it, and I ignored the looks the other three sent my way.
“We’ll see you Monday,” Bubba said, clapping a hand on Coop’s shoulder and tugging him out the door. I didn’t say anything, I just closed it after them and locked it.
Leaning against the door, I closed my eyes. Tired didn’t begin to cover it. On the counter, my iced coffee sat there, condensation sliding down the side of it. Picking it up, I took a sip and then stared at the living room. The table was gone. All of the damaged pieces were picked up and, except for needing to be vacuumed, it was like the table hadn’t been there.
The vacuuming took me a minute. I went ahead and did the whole living room, since I got it out. Afterward, I took my coffee back to my room, fixed the blanket on the bed, and then ran a comb through my hair before I braided it. It was a wreck anyway, but at least a braid kept it out of my face.
All four of them had messaged me, but I wasn’t in the mood. I answered Mathieu, thanking him for his advice, then put the phone in do not disturb. YouTube cued up on my laptop, I curled up with the cats.
I didn’t make the rules, but apparently I had to play by them.
Chapter Ten
Hard Truths
Mom took the destroyed coffee table pretty well—Sunday morning. Interestingly, I heard her coming back in, so I knew she hadn’t been home all night. But she slipped into her room, and by the time I headed to the kitchen, she came out and played it like she’d been there. Considering how the night before ended with the guys, I couldn’t bring myself to call her on it.
At least one of us was getting lucky.
The moment that thought alighted, I grimaced. That would take a lot of brain bleach to get out.
“So, you have work today,” Mom was saying as she added creamer to her coffee. The groceries she brought in—this morning—I reminded myself had at least included bagels and cream cheese, so I was having a toasted bagel for breakfast along with my coffee. “What else?”
“Working on a French project after work. I’m making a dessert, or at least practicing it. I have to prepare it, then prepare a video—you know, like a French cooking show—do it all in French, then present it to the class. Tonight is kind of dry run.”
“Oh. Do you need me here? Or can you handle it on your own?” At least she’d asked, but she also looked—relaxed. More relaxed than I’d seen in a long time, and her reaction to the broken table had been wry humor.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, skipping over the fact Mathieu was coming over. “You’re going out?”
“Yes.” She avoided looking at me as she turned to the toaster and fed a bagel of her own into it. “Have plans with some of the folks from work.”
I took another bite of the bagel, mostly to give my mouth something to do that didn’t involve me snorting derision or saying something rude. Mom didn’t like a lot of the people she worked with or at least so she often said. Then again, Mom had been working for the same company for years. She’d put in her time and then some.
Asking her once why she stayed when she seemed so unhappy had backfired. She stayed because it put the roof over our heads and the food in our fridge. I learned to leave it alone after that.
“I’m glad,” I said finally after I washed down the bite. “I’m glad you seem to be making more friends there.”
Oh, that sounded awful and I winced. But Mom just gave me a tight smile. Bagel ready, she set it on a plate, then took it and her coffee into the living room. I stayed at the little table in the corner of our kitchen and ate the rest of my bagel. My phone lay on the table next to my plate, facedown. I’d left it in do not disturb.
After finishing my bagel, I wiped off my hands and then double-checked my recipe for opera cake. The multiple layers required a lot of different ingredients. I had most of them, but I would have to stop at the store after work. The whole thing would take at least a couple of hours, and it looked complicated as hell.
Was I crazy to try and make something like this? There was an elegance to the dessert, and it looked delicious. At the same time, it was what Mathieu described as his favorite, and he was going to be here to play along.
Well, if it was a disaster, I had time to try a simpler one—like chocolate mousse, which I happened to freaking love. I was adding the last item to the list when the text from Jake came in.
Jake: Are you still pissed?
That was it, nothing more, just the single message. If I hadn’t been staring at the screen, I wouldn’t have seen it. I’d made a point of not reading their messages mostly because I didn’t want them to see the read receipt. I was still mad. The night before, I’d actually worried if I caved and read the messages, I’d look for a reason to get over it.
Nope.
Morning came and I was still mad at them. All the anger I thought I’d let go of over the summer just boiled in my blood. My head hurt I was so pissed. Pressing the phone off and locked, I slid it into the pocket of my shorts then grabbed the laundry basket from under the table. “Going to grab my laundry,” I called.
“Okay,” Mom answered, her tone distracted. I bet, if someone asked her in two minutes where I was, she’d have already forgotten. I stuffed my feet into flip-flops and headed out the backdoor. The laundry room was off the courtyard next to ours. Ten on a Sunday morning, and it was already hot and steamy. Even with the doors propped open, the air in the claustrophobic room housing three washers and three dryers seemed to have a physical presence. The heat swelled the room, making it seem heavier, even if it was dryer sheet scented.
I’d timed my return perfectly. The dryer kicked off just as I stepped inside. Two of the washers were agitating loudly and a second dryer continued to run. I set my basket on the floor and checked the chipped linoleum table for folding. It was mostly clean. I swiped a hand over it looking for lint or dust. Nope.
I had a week’s worth of school and work clothes, not to mention a handful of pajamas in this load. I dragged the items out to the table to start separating.
Midway through folding the shirts, I glanced to the shadow in the doorway and, really, I wasn’t remotely surprised to see Coop standing there. He leaned in the doorway, dressed
in a tank top and shorts, his own feet stuffed into flip flops, too. The sunglasses hid his eyes, but not the downturn of his mouth or the frown he wore.
“Coop,” I greeted him and went back to folding my shirts. The panties were already in the basket. I needed to get jeans and shorts next. Bras were stuffed in the stack still.
“So you are talking to me.”
“I’m not playing that game. I can be polite.”
“Except you’re not answering any of us, and you kicked us out last night.”
“Well, you were all a bunch of assholes last night.” I told him, turning and setting the stack of shirts in the basket, then dropping a bra in there that I’d uncovered before I snagged my jeans. Hell, I hadn’t even gone out in the ripped pair the night before, but I’d washed them anyway.
“Frankie… I get that we broke the table.” He straightened and raked his hand through his hair. “And I shouldn’t have been messing with your phone. You shouldn’t have had to wrestle with me to get it back.”
We were dancing down the yellow brick road to an apology, I could almost feel it. Course, any minute now, the flying monkeys were going to show up.
“But…”
Yep. There they were.
“But you said you were pissed at us over dating.”
I snapped another pair of jeans out and then folded them in half before setting them atop the others.
“Are you really that mad at me about dating Laura?”
I almost laughed. “And off to the poppy fields we go.”
He sighed. “Okay, so I’m not following what you’re pissed at us for. So rather than worry about what you’re mad at everyone else for, will you talk to me like I’m five and tell me what I did wrong?” He sounded so plaintive that I wanted to make it better for him. “I want to fix this, but…”
“But you don’t know why I’m mad? Or you don’t know how to fix it?” I had the shorts stacked up, so I added them and the jeans to the basket. Two more bras went in and then I started matching the socks. Fortunately, I pretty much wore the same white socks, so everything matched.
“Yes.” He closed the distance between us to lean against the washers next to me. “C’mon, Frankie. I hate it when you’re mad at me.”
I wasn’t really a fan of being angry with him either. When I had the last set paired, I tossed them all in the basket and then picked it up. “Fine, but not in here. It’s hot.”
He nodded and reached for the basket, but I didn’t let it go.
“I have it.”
Raising his hands away, he backed up and then led the way out of the laundry room. At least there was some shade in our courtyard and along the way, if we took the long route. The lack of privacy in the courtyard meant I needed to spit it out before we got there.
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I want to do all the same things in high school that the rest of you are? That I want to go on a first date? Maybe I’d love to get asked to go to a dance or ask a guy to go a dance. That I’d like to have the crappy stories about the guys I just don’t click with and the crazy ones about the guy I didn’t stop kissing long enough to get out of the car and go in to see a movie?”
The blank surprise on Coop’s face was a humbling enough answer. I shook my head.
“That’s why I’m angry. Because the four of you decided I didn’t get to do that for some reason, yet not a one of you keeps it in his pants. You may not have had sex because you didn’t have a condom, but you’re hardly a virgin.” None of them were. I knew exactly when each one had scored the first time and with who.
See, there are some things I could have lived without knowing.
“It might even be fair, if there was some kind of parity where you told me about your issues with Laura, and I could bring up the crazy crap I had to put up with from Mac.”
“Mac Harper?” Coop’s eyes narrowed.
I sighed, turning to face him. He had to stop abruptly or collide with me. “No, dipshit. Mac was an example of someone I might be seeing.”
He frowned. “But you’re not seeing him.”
“I’m not seeing anyone.” Itsy bitsy little lie, but I wasn’t seeing Mathieu yet. “Because you, Aramis, Athos and Porthos decided I needed to be protected and that no guy at school was allowed to ask me out.” At least Coop read enough to get my point about the Three Musketeers.
Folding his arms, Coop frowned. “Okay. We did that. Sorta.”
“Sorta?” I raised my brows.
“Well, we didn’t take out an ad, Frankie. We just… made it clear that we weren’t going to let anyone pick on you or take advantage. Guys can be pretty shitty to girls, if you haven’t noticed.”
I swear, I didn’t laugh but that was some seriously whacked shit. “No kidding,” I said in the most deadpan voice I could muster. “You know what’s shittier?”
“What?”
“Friends who go out of their way to sabotage you. I had to hear it from Rachel Manning… that the reason I didn’t have a date to the spring dance was because no guy would ever ask me. No guy would dare, so if I wanted to go to that dance, I had to take my self. But isn’t it so cute, how you guys the made sure no one would ever bother me? I’m practically untouchable.” I almost had Rachel’s insincere bitch tone down. It wasn’t quite fair to Rachel, as she’d been in a mood at the time, but I wasn’t in the mood to be fair to anyone. She’d gotten some pleasure out of slamming me with that. Mostly ‘cause she’d hit on one of them, and they’d shut her down, so instead she used me to get back at them.
I got the politics of it, but the thing was, my feelings had been the ones hurt.
“You and the guys—you took your dates and you partied.”
“You came to the dance,” Coop said. “I didn’t think you cared about the dating thing.” When I scoffed, he held up his hand. “No seriously, I’m not making this up. I’ve seen a lot guys hit on you… yet you never respond.”
What the hell was he talking about? Why did they all keep saying that?
“That’s the thing,” Coop told me. “You never noticed. I thought—I thought you were just shutting guys down. You didn’t want to flirt or to go out with anyone. All I wanted to do…” Him, not the guys. He was making a distinction. “I wanted to have your back. I don’t want someone to do to you…”
“What you’re doing to Laura?”
He frowned, and then glanced down. “I broke up with Laura last night.”
Sweat tickled at the back of my neck. “I’m sorry.”
With a shrug, Coop said, “I shouldn’t have started seeing her again. She really isn’t the girl I want to date.”
“Then I’m proud of you.” I meant it.
He smiled. “Can I carry the basket for you now?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine.” Turning, I continued toward our courtyard with Coop falling into step.
“We’re okay, right? You and me?”
At the steps to my apartment, I glanced at him. “I don’t know…and I’m not saying that because I want to make this worse. But I’m mad. The mad—it doesn’t just go away because you finally get it. You guys—you made a decision about me and you never even asked me. I think that was the hardest part. I spent most of my junior year wondering what was wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Yeah, well, I feel like I was the only girl who never got asked out. Even if I hadn’t wanted to go… I could have at least said no. But I didn’t get that chance. I don’t know if I’ll get it this year. I’m busy, and I have a lot to do, but I do know that you guys? You made it worse.”
Coop kicked a rock and sent it skittering over to bushes. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do. Anyway,” I said with a sigh. “I need to go put this stuff up and get ready for work.”
“You still have plans tonight?” His eyebrows were up, his expression hopeful. “Or was that basically a way to blow me off?”
“Believe it or not, I do have plans, and I’m not
changing them.”
I made it up three steps when he asked, “What are you doing?”
“Something new,” I told him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
But I didn’t wait for his answer as I let myself in.
“I don’t know,” my mom was saying. “I’ve barely been here this week. I can’t just plan an entire week away.” Her voice was muted, but it carried from the other room. “You’re tempting me…” When she laughed, I paused. I don’t think I’d ever heard my mom laugh like that. “Okay,” she said, her voice getting quieter. “She’ll be back in a minute, so I need to get off the phone. Yes. Tonight. I can’t wait.”
I was torn between gagging and laughing. She sounded really happy. And she hadn’t heard me come in, so I opened the backdoor as quietly as I’d closed it, then slammed it shut. “I’m back,” I called.
After locking the door, I kicked my flip-flops under the table and then carried the laundry through. Mom was coming out of the bedroom, her cheeks a little rosier and her eyes a little brighter.
I was still trying to wrap my mind around Mom and her secret boyfriend when she followed me to my room. “I know I haven’t been around much the last few days,” she said.
“It’s fine,” I told her. “I’ve been really busy.” Not a lie. “School’s is going to be crazy this year.”
Standing in the doorway, she frowned. “Maybe you could take on fewer hours? I know the boys and you had plans this weekend, and you said you went to the game on Friday?”
“Yeah, Jake and Bubba did great. We won the first game.” I put my laundry away. “I don’t want to take shorter hours. They cut me back for school already. Right now—barring expenses…” Like a new coffee table or getting my tires fixed. “I could have everything I need to make the move and to supplement myself while I find a job up there. Harvard’s a long way away.”
“Sweetie…you know you’re putting an awful lot on getting into Harvard.”
I shrugged. “Aim for the stars. Even if I miss, I’ll still be above the clouds.” I’d seen that on a sign when I was five. I’d never forgotten it. “Besides, I know I need financial aid and everything else.” And then some. “But if I don’t try, I definitely won’t get in.”
Rules and Roses: Untouchable Book One Page 13
