by M. F. Lorson
“We could swap on the way home,” she said with a wink.
I knew full well that she did not get carsick. When we were in the debate club, we traveled by bus once a week, and she never once griped about the seating arrangement then. This was about her ensuring that Christopher and I were in close proximity at all times. I shook my head but squeezed in beside him anyway. The back of the van technically sat two, but I had a feeling those two were supposed to be children and not a 6’2 lacrosse player and a fairly solid teenage girl. Our thighs were in full contact, and I had to lean away from him to keep our shoulders from being fused together as well.
Our first stop was in Boston to pick up Ashley’s boyfriend, Andrew. The two of them latched hands within seconds of his buckling into the van. I thought it was kind of cute, but out of the corner of my eye, Christopher was taking big calming breaths. Ashley was not kidding when she said her big brother wasn’t going to let her and Andrew out of his sight. She worried about his schoolwork, but from the looks of things, he did his fair share of worrying about her as well.
The lake house was roughly an hour from Shelfbrooke. As we wound through the countryside, I started to understand why Lydia preferred to ride shotgun. Feeling slightly nauseous, I pulled my Shelfbrooke sweater up over my shoulders and wadded it into a makeshift pillow to press against the side window. With my head cocked to the side, Christopher’s eyes met mine. I wondered if we were thinking the same thing. That if this were the ferry, my head would be resting on his shoulder and not the side of the vehicle.
When we finally arrived at the lake house, I had to snicker. “This is what your family calls a cabin?” I asked.
The house before us was unlike any cabin I had seen before. It was basically like they took a four bedroom home from an upper-income neighborhood and plunked it in the middle of the woods. There was nothing cabiny about it.
“Yeah,” said Rachel, casting her eyes over the property. “My parents don’t really do nature. This place belonged to my mother’s side, and Dad bulldozed the original building the moment we got the deed. We call it the cabin because there was once a cabin here, but I assure you it has all modern amenities.”
“Hot tub?” inquired Will.
“On the back deck,” said Rachel, stepping forward to turn her key in the front door. I ignored the eyebrow waggling Will was doing in my direction. How he could possibly think he still had a chance with me was beyond my ability to reason.
Once inside, Ashley and Christopher let out a collective gasp. The Russell’s knew how to spend money, that’s for sure. I had been home with Rachel on enough weekends to know what to expect. But I could remember what it felt like to be Christopher and Ashley, totally new to the lifestyle most of the students at Shelfbrooke called normal.
Their “cabin” had marble floors from wall to wall. In the living room, the furniture was whiter than a padded room. I didn’t dare sit on it, and I warned Ashley not to as well. Fortunately, the upstairs was less for looking and more for living. There were two bedrooms upstairs and one down below where the den was. The girls all agreed to share one of the upstairs bedrooms. Will suggested that he and Christopher take the downstairs room on account of it was right next to the pool table and equipped with a fully stocked mini-fridge.
“Never gonna happen,” said Christopher.
Will looked slightly hurt. “It’s not like I plan to poison you in your sleep,”
Christopher chuckled cruelly. “As appealing as listening to you brag about all your awesome female conquests back home sounds, I think I’d rather be in spitting distance of my sixteen-year-old sister than allow her boyfriend to sleep directly across the hall from her, unattended.”
Will shrugged and turned to Charles. “Roomies?”
“Sure,” said Charles, clapping him on the back. “I love a good mini-fridge.”
Will was playing it cool, but if I had to guess, I would say he was relieved not to have to share a room with Christopher for the next forty-eight hours. This trip may have had the ulterior motive of getting those two on better footing, but that didn’t mean there would be a miracle. It wasn’t like the two of them were going to weave friendship bracelets and stay up all night talking about their feelings. We would be lucky if they exchanged Xbox handles.
“Then it’s settled,” said Christopher, addressing Andrew directly. “You and I will share the upstairs bedroom, and I will be within line of sight of you and Ashley at all times.”
Even across the room, I could make out the angry vein pulsing from Andrew’s forehead as he let go of Ashley’s hand and trudged up the stairs to unpack.
Upstairs in the girls’ room, there were bunk beds on each side. It felt very Shelfbrooke, with the addition of two extra roomies. Rachel and Lydia split the far side of the room with Lydia calling dibs on the bottom bunk. I volunteered to take the top bunk on mine and Ashley’s side for one reason, and one reason only: when Rachel passed out for the night, I had every intention of throwing things at her from my lofty parallel location.
Will instructed his driver to go into town and pick up dinner for the evening. We all would have been cool with frozen pizza, but Christopher insisted that he and Ashley had some sort of sibling magic in the kitchen, and we would all be remiss not to let them take advantage of the opportunity to make a home-cooked meal. I didn’t mind at all. Being seduced by a boy’s cooking skills was the plot of like half the movies on the Hallmark Channel. I did mind, however, when Christopher, Will, and Lydia headed to the store together, leaving the rest of us behind. The only thing I liked less than knowing Christopher and Lydia were spending time together was knowing that Will was there to egg them on. Judging by Will’s over-enthusiastic response to being invited on the trip, and all that eyebrow waggling at the mention of a hot tub, I got the uneasy impression that Will hoped this weekend was going to result in him hooking up with someone. And, as the only single party in the group, I did not like his optimism.
As soon as the door closed behind Will, Lydia, and Christopher, Rachel let out a sigh of relief.
“Alright, this is likely the only time we are going to have with both Lydia and Christopher out of our hair. Time to plot!”
Andrew furrowed his brows. “What am I missing? Why do we need plotting?”
Ashley gently patted his shoulder. “I forgot to mention we have a mission this weekend, and you are going to help with it.”
Andrew reached up to rub the back of his neck. “And the mission involves not telling your brother?”
“Precisely.”
“Great,” said Andrew, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Your brother already thinks so highly of me.”
Ashley frowned. “Chris likes you just fine.”
“Oh, really,” said Andrew. “He’s not on this trip solely to chaperone you?”
Ashley looked away guiltily.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Think of it this way,” pleaded Ashley. “He would dislike you in that way no matter who you were!”
“Ha!” cried Andrew. “Because that makes it better?”
“This weekend is not about you!” scolded Ashley playfully. “Suck it up and help us cause trouble!” Andrew rolled his eyes, but eventually, it was clear that whatever Ashley wanted, he was going to do, whether it ticked Christopher off or not.
I felt like pointing out to Rachel how healthy and happy those two were. They were the perfect example of a public school to boarding school relationship that worked. But I kept that thought to myself. I was reserving her fourth apology for a time I really needed it. Ideally, prom. That girl had an arsenal of accessories stashed away in her vanity and I planned to take full advantage of her guilt ridden generosity.
We quickly filled Andrew and Charles in on the whole long, sordid story. Midway through, Andrew’s face sparked with recognition.
“So you’re the girl from the ferry.” I felt a little blush creep up from my neckline. The ferry was three years ago. Just how long did Christopher
talk about me? “Which also means you are the one who thinks she is too good to date a guy like me,” said Andrew, the smile on his face quickly faded to a frown.
Ashley gave him a warning look.
“It’s alright,” I said, calling Ashley off. “You’re right,” I addressed Andrew directly. “I was a bonehead then, but I’m trying to make up for it now.” For a moment, no one said anything, and I worried that Andrew was going to change his mind about helping Ashley since it clearly meant helping me.
But then Andrew spoke up. “How do I help?” I let out the breath I had been subconsciously holding as Ashley began going through the details.
“Your job,” she said, “is to keep Will and Lydia away from Christopher long enough for Anne to work her magic.”
“I have magic?” I asked.
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Just do your best.”
My best would be a lot easier without an audience of six, I thought. “I need to be alone with him,” I said. “Not just stolen conversations while we are all together. I need a reason that Christopher and I would be on our own.”
“Already planned it,” said Rachel with a grin. “Apology number four, by the way.”
I scrunched up my nose. She was busting through those apologies faster than I had hoped. Now I was going to have to use number five for prom if she didn’t find a way to work the last one in before then.
“Tomorrow afternoon, we are all going cross-country skiing, but you two will conveniently go ahead of the group.”
“That’s a great plan,” I said. “If, you know, I had any idea how to cross-country ski!”
“Giiirl,” said Rachel, shaking her head. “Have you never seen a romantic comedy? If you already knew how to ski, this wouldn’t be nearly as romantic.”
Andrew looked skeptical. “I don’t know, just because it works in the movies…”
“It will work,” said Ashley, a fire lighting behind her eyes. “Christopher loves telling people how to do things.”
I frowned. “Gee, this is sounding more and more appealing by the minute.”
“Uh guys,” said Charles finally joining in the conversation. We’d been on this trip for something like four hours now, and the boy had said maybe ten words. “How do we talk Lydia and Will into hanging back while Anne and Christopher go off alone together?”
Rachel rubbed her hands together menacingly. “Girl Power. A girl like Lydia might think she wants to stand out and be all ‘I’m an individual. Check out my skull and crossbones tattoo,’ but on the inside, she wants to fit in like everybody else.”
“I’m not following,” said Charles.
Rachel breathed in deeply. This whole dating Charles thing was going to take a fair amount of patience on her part. He wasn’t dumb persay, but he required a bit more care and feeding than the type of boyfriend she usually went for.
“Ashley and I are going to friend her up. We will tell her we want to get to know her. Girl bonding junk.” My stomach felt a little on the tumbly side. Lydia and I weren’t really friends, but I didn’t want to hurt her either.
“And after the weekend, when we go back to school, what then?” I asked, afraid that the answer was going to be act like it never happened.
Rachel sighed. “Anne Bennet, have I ever been a bully?”
“No?” I answered, feeling confused.
“I don’t plan to start now. Besides who's to say that Lydia and I aren’t long lost besties? Maybe getting to know her means we end up liking each other. Maybe, it means we discover we have nothing in common. Either way, tomorrow, Ashley and I are going to give the girl a shot. Anybody have a problem with that?”
“Not me,” I said with a smile. If everything went according to plan, there was a happy ending to be had here for everyone. Lydia and Will could potentially end up a couple. Ashley, Rachel, Lydia, and I could end up as real friends, and Christopher and I... I stopped myself from fantasizing right there. Dreaming about it was turning the hope in my heart into plans, and I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.
Chapter Sixteen
When the shopping crew returned, Ashley and Christopher went digging through the pantry for the proper cooking utensils. I had to keep my eyes from permanently gluing to Christopher as he pulled a white apron from off the door handle and tied it around his waist. I wasn't the only one transfixed. Lydia was having trouble not swooning over kitchen-Christopher as well. If it weren’t for the whole, we both love the same boy thing, we could have bonded over this moment.
“Cooking requires music,” said Ashley, climbing on top of the counter to turn on the radio. She twisted the dial to an oldies station, and the room filled with ‘(Sittin on) The Dock of the Bay.’ If we kept our eyes off the windows, we could almost forget about the heavy snow that continued to fall around us.
Dinner, it turned out, was clam linguini. I had never been much of a cook, but I watched with interest as Christopher diced shallots and added the tiniest bit of white wine to the butter already bubbling in the pan.
Seated on a barstool beside me, Andrew followed Ashley with his eyes as she moved around the kitchen. The two of them had been together so long he didn’t have to pretend not to look. I wanted to be that way. To be comfortably infatuated with another person. To say what I wanted without worrying whether or not they would think it was funny enough, smart enough, or courageous enough. They were the model couple, and watching them made me deathly afraid I’d never have what they had.
Dinner was every bit as delicious as it looked and smelled. We finished the pot between the eight of us, and Rachel and I made quick work of the dishes while Andrew entertained everyone with a story about the senior prank he and his buddies were planning for the fall. I used their distraction as an opportunity to hide what was left of the bottle of white wine. If Will really did prefer those ragers, he was always bragging about, then I didn't want to risk him trying to spice things up here.
Will stood up from the dining room table and stretched his arms above his head. He wore a mile-wide grin on his face.
“Hot tub, anyone? Anne?” He asked with a wink. I had no desire to climb into a hot tub with Will Brooke, but considering I was on a trip with three couples, avoiding it was a no go.
“I’m up for it,” I said, looking to Ashley and Rachel for backup.
“Us too,” said Ashley eagerly.
The boys headed off to their rooms to change, and Lydia reluctantly followed us upstairs to ours. I wondered if she was the type of girl who projected confidence but really preferred to wear a T-shirt in the pool. I hoped that was the case.
No such luck, however. The room was a sea of curves and flawless skin as the other girls primped in front of the mirror. Each and every one of them looked like a Corona ad. And then there was me, in the corner with a Tankini and full on swim skirt. It was like I had consulted my closet for the least sexiest thing imaginable while packing.
I was going to have to keep my envy in check if I didn’t want to end this evening sorely depressed. Maybe I should have packed a T-shirt. Rachel’s eyes on my swimwear told me she was thinking the same thing. She shook her head.
“This is part of that confidence thing you need to work on,” said Rachel, rubbing the hem of my skirt between her fingers. “Where did you even get this? Your grandma’s mail-order catalog?”
“I think it is cute,” said Lydia, scooting past us toward the door.
Lydia was not projecting confidence. Lydia embodied confidence as she strode down the stairs in a simple black bikini that had Will’s eyes popping out of his head and Christopher blushing like she was in her underwear and not a bathing suit. I took a deep breath before following the rest of them down.
We exited through the sliding glass doors to the back deck where Charles had already pulled the top off of the hot tub and started the bubbles. Rachel took his hand as she went up the three short steps to reach the tub, and the rest of us followed suit.
I lowered myself into the hot, bubbling water. The contrast
between the water and the air around us made it feel twice as luxurious. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine I was at a spa and not playing monkey in the middle with a bunch of couples. Beside me, Ashley sat on the step below Andrew, his knees grazed her shoulders while she leaned back into his chest. Rachel was twice as brave, sitting on Charles’s lap, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. I didn't want to look at the other couple in the tub, but I couldn't stop myself either. Lydia and Christopher sat across from me. They were shoulder to shoulder, but it was hard to miss the space between them, especially in comparison to the other couples.
I felt Will raise his arm beside me. I was pretty sure he meant to land it around my shoulder, so I scooted a few inches to the left to avoid contact. Unfazed, he rested his arm on the side of the tub instead. One thing I would give Will credit for, he was far too confident to get easily embarrassed. There was another reason he and Lydia made sense. If only Christopher would come down with some horrible illness that required my caretaking. Then Lydia and Will could spend some time solo, and we would all be one step closer to righting the ship.
Somewhere along the way, the daylight had turned to inky black night. The eight of us tilted our heads up to watch the snowflakes fall and disintegrate in the water around us. If I let my eyes go out of focus, it was like the stars were falling in with us. I would have to remember this moment next year when I was off to college, and Shelfbrooke and the people who went there were all just faded photo strips like the one of Christopher and me in my sock drawer.
We stayed outside until everyone was pruny and tired. When it was finally time to go in, I made my goodnights short and sweet, heading to my room as quickly as possible. All the couples were huddled under blankets getting cuddly, and I didn’t want to see Lydia and Christopher share a goodnight kiss, or worse, see them sneak off together to be all coupley.
As fate would have it, however, my mind was every bit as bad as actually witnessing the two of them interacting. Lying in bed, all I could think about was what Christopher and Lydia were doing downstairs. Were they in the den with the lights out, their arms around one another, kissing and talking—all the things I wanted but couldn’t do with Christopher? I might have gone crazy thinking about it if it weren’t for Lydia quietly entering the room a moment later. I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep as she changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed.
