by Amity Hope
“This will just take a second.” He pulled something out of his backseat.
The notebook, of course. It was opened to the list. He held it up for me to see. The whole page had become a mish-mash of scribbles. His precise script, my sloppy loops, different colored pens, pencils…and now a sentence highlighted in yellow.
Luke will defend Meg, especially when it comes to his crazy-ass parents.
“I added it as soon as I got home.”
“You highlighted it, even.” For some reason, I found that amusing and oddly endearing.
“I’m taking that rule very seriously from now on.”
Lady whined. She was probably thirsty.
“I’m hungry,” Luke said after shooting her a glance. “We could go get burgers and onion rings. I’ll even throw in a burger for the fur ball. You hungry?”
“Starving. But as you pointed out earlier, I’m not really your girlfriend. I’ll eat at home.” I kept my tone light, but Francesca’s warning buzzed in my head. I could enjoy my time with Luke, but I needed to remember what this was really about. “I think I’ve maxed out my quota for the amount of time I’m required to spend with you this week.” I backed up. Lady got to her feet. “See you at school.”
I took off at a jog and he didn’t try to stop me.
The television murmured quietly in the living room when I got home. A quick peek around the corner let me know both my parents were here. At least they weren’t avoiding each other. They were simply ignoring each other. I trudged up the staircase.
When I changed out of my running clothes, I paused for a moment to straighten the pictures wedged into my mirror. My gaze rested on a photo of Sydney and me building a sand castle at the coast.
I could finally remember that day with a smile. Miss Perez had told me time would heal. I had clung to that promise like a lifeline. Slowly, I’d been able to pull myself out of the abyss of blackness.
These days I tried to concentrate on the time I’d had with her. Not the time that was lost.
Lady whimpered, as if she knew where my thoughts had gone. I knelt down. She pressed against me, giving me a doggy hug.
“You miss her, too, don’t you?”
Her absence would always be felt.
As a family we spent years readjusting our lives to meet Sydney’s needs. We gave up our house. Mom gave up her job. Dad started working at the store more, no longer able to afford to pay an employee.
I’d had to give up sports when my parents no longer had the time to take me, or the money to invest in me.
Other than hanging onto Francesca and Kylie, I’d given up any semblance of a social life. I’d wanted to spend every moment I could with my sister. We knew her days were numbered. I hadn’t wanted to miss any of them.
Everything revolved around Sydney.
Somewhere along the way I’d lost myself.
I didn’t realize I still hadn’t gotten myself back until Luke started pressing me. He’d asked about my hobbies, my interests. Maybe it was time to look for something that would make me happy.
Even if I didn’t know what that was anymore.
Chapter Thirteen
Luke
“Close the refrigerator,” Mom ordered. “You’re going to ruin your appetite.”
“Mom. When have I ever ruined my appetite?”
Ignoring the question, she said, “Go upstairs and change into something decent. The Winterses will be here shortly.”
I nabbed a handful of cookies out of the cupboard before her words hit me. “Wait. What?”
“Dinner. Tonight. With the Winterses.”
“Can’t make it.” No wonder the kitchen smelled like an Italian restaurant. My stomach rumbled, but I wasn’t going to stick around to see what Mom had in the oven.
“Luke.”
I stopped at the foot of the stairs.
Mom wore her stubborn face. “You will be here.”
“I have plans.” Plans that I’d just conjured up in the last sixty seconds, but still, they were plans.
“I told you about this.”
“Nope. Pretty sure you didn’t. I would’ve remembered. You trying to shove Jaclyn at me isn’t something I’d forget. Thanks for the warning though, I appreciate it.”
“You’re being rude. When are you going to stop behaving like such a child?” she scolded. “This dinner isn’t about you. You know your father and I enjoy George and Eileen’s company. We always have.”
“Perfect. Since this isn’t about me and you enjoy their company so much, there’s no reason for me to stay.”
“What am I supposed to tell them?”
“Tell them I have a date with my girlfriend.”
Her face twisted into a look of irritation. It was a look that said Just wait until your father gets home.
I wasn’t stupid enough to do that. I darted up the staircase, grabbed my phone and a few other essentials, and within minutes I was tearing out of the driveway.
I made a phone call, made a pit stop, and an hour later Meg and I were watching the waves roll in at the coast.
I called her, obviously very last minute. But the moment I mentioned the word “ocean” she was all in.
I shook out the green blanket that resided in the back of my SUV. Once we got settled I dug in my cooler and passed her a root beer before divvying up the food I’d picked up at the deli.
“I haven’t been here in forever,” she said. She wore a faraway look as she gazed out at the water. Too often I caught a glimpse of something dark behind her eyes. A sadness lingering right below the surface.
I got the impression there was a lot more to this girl than I’d first thought. At times I wanted to ask her about it. Common sense told me she wouldn’t appreciate it. Wouldn’t answer. It would do no good to ask.
“We hit a good day.” Soon the rainy season would begin, and the weather would cool off.
“What’s the deal with the baseball bats that were in your backseat? Those weren’t really all yours, were they?”
“That’s a random question.”
She shrugged. “Not really. I’m curious.”
The bats, the ones she’d automatically assumed were all for me. Because I was some spoiled rich kid. I hadn’t corrected her at the time because I’d told myself I didn’t care what she thought.
Apparently I cared now, whether I wanted to or not.
“They weren’t mine,” I confirmed. “I worked for a community project last summer. It focused on getting at-risk kids involved in sports. It was aimed at all sports but it’s not exactly a secret that I have a soft spot for baseball. I took my earnings and bought the bats with it. The sports shop in town gave me a discount because I ordered in bulk. The order had just come in, and I hadn’t had a chance to drop them off with the program director yet.”
“I heard a rumor that you might also be responsible for a large donation of equipment last summer.” Her tone held a hint of approval.
“A rumor? Did Nate pass that along?” She nodded. “The program is through a non-profit organization. Dad can be generous when something is a tax write-off. I’ve learned to make something sound as if it’s in his best interest.” Even then, I’d had to work for it.
“But the bats you bought yourself.”
“I obviously didn’t take the job for the money.”
“Why did you get involved, then?”
“Right now, baseball is just about the most important thing to me.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Why? It’s just a sport.”
“Not to me it’s not. What’s with all the questions?”
“It’s called conversation.” She threw a piece of crust at me. It bounced off my shoulder and instantly became a seagull snack. “Why is baseball so important to you? Are you planning on going pro? I’ve heard you’re good enough.”
“I’m good, but not that good. But baseball, it’s my way out.” The only way out I could think of.
“Your way out of where?”
“Out from under my dad’s thumb. He’s got my life mapped out. Ivy League college, then joining him at his law firm. It was the same for my brother. Now Gabe is miserable. He has a wife and a newborn baby girl he almost never sees. Dad sends him all over the country, has him work hours no human should have to work. He drives the car Dad wants him to drive, lives in the house Dad thinks he should live in. Dad controls his salary, his bonuses, where he’s going to be just about every hour of every damn day. I don’t want that. And that’s not even the worst of it.”
Once there was a crack in the dam storing my thoughts on the matter, I couldn’t stop them from dumping out.
“I don’t want to be a lawyer. I sure as hell don’t want to be a lawyer in his firm. Don’t even get me started on some of those bastards he represents. I couldn’t live with myself if I helped some of these corporations get away with doing the things they’ve done.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “Sorry. That was a little too much information.”
She smiled. “I like getting to know you better.”
As soon as we finished eating, Meg began scavenging for a stick. When she found what she was looking for, she took off toward the beach. I was curious enough to follow.
She began to swirl out lazy doodles and squiggles. The ocean crashed behind her, with the sun falling low on the horizon. The breeze toyed with her hair. I found myself wishing I was the one toying with that amazing hair.
Totally not allowed.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
She paused with the stick in her hand. “Why?”
“It would make me feel better. I practically bared my soul to you just now,” I said, keeping my tone light.
Her brow furrowed as she set to work again. “You asked before about my parents letting me ride a motorcycle. What I didn’t say was that I’d been riding it for a few months before they found out.”
“You snuck it out of the garage.”
She nodded. “When Dad caught me, he was pretty mad. I was grounded for weeks. Eventually I wore him down and convinced him I respected the machine and knew how to be safe.”
“Wore him down?”
“I’m not proud to say I may have used a guilt trip or two.”
I glanced down and realized she’d just etched the image from her mural. Before I could ask about it, she was questioning me again.
“How is baseball your way out? You said you aren’t good enough to go pro.”
I was treading awfully close to a truth I couldn’t admit to. It didn’t stop me from spilling my guts anyway.
“Because if I don’t do what Dad wants me to do, he’ll cut me off financially. I should’ve spent my entire high school baseball career working on getting noticed by scouts. Now we’ve started senior year. I’m in a time crunch and playing catch-up. There’s a camp in Colorado over Christmas break. It could be my one chance to get noticed. There’s going to be scouts from a dozen or more universities. Some of these guys have been making a name for themselves for years, but it was only the last year or so that I realized baseball might be my ticket out. I have a good shot at a scholarship if I can just prove myself.”
“And if you don’t get a scholarship, you could always pay for college yourself. Lots of people do.”
“Pay for college myself?” I blurted. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
“Chances are, I’m going to end up with student loans.”
“Loans? I’d be paying off my education for years.” I was overwhelmed by the idea. But was it any worse than the alternative?
She rolled her eyes and whipped her stick into the ocean. “Welcome to how the other half lives.”
…
“Lucas.”
I clomped into the parlor. My parents and Jaclyn’s were sitting around, drinks in hand. All eyes turned to me when I entered. I gave the polite greeting I knew was expected. I felt a momentary burst of relief that Jaclyn was absent.
“I hope you had a good evening.” Mom’s tone was a contradiction to her words. “It would’ve been nice if you were home sooner. Jaclyn could’ve used your company.”
“Better late than never,” Eileen chirped. “I hope you don’t mind but your mother said she could watch television in your room. Our conversation bores her.”
My room? As if there weren’t half a dozen other TVs in the house.
I shot Mom a pissed-off glare, not caring who else saw, before storming up the stairs.
“Miss me?” Jaclyn cooed when I barged in.
The sight of her lounging on my sofa—bare feet on my coffee table while she watched some lame reality show—made my blood sizzle.
“Nope,” I tossed back. “Get out.”
“What’s the matter, Luke? Afraid I’m going to spill your secret?”
My eyes darted around. I hated that she’d been in here alone. Not that there was anything to find. My backpack—with the rules—was in my Navigator. My stomach twisted, knowing how smug she’d be. Jaclyn wasn’t book smart. But she was a world-class conniver. If she’d found anything, she’d have me on my knees already, begging for mercy.
She picked up my brand new copy of Cather in the Rye. “You are such a closet geek.”
“Whatever. Just leave.”
“I don’t want to.” She wiggled her manicured toes.
I stared her down.
She got to her feet, moving like a cat ready to pounce on a stupid, unsuspecting mouse. I took a step toward the door when she closed the distance between us.
“Haven’t you punished me long enough?” she pouted.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes and her voice became harsh. “Meg? Seriously? I’m not buying it. You’re pissed at me. So you decide to date the trashiest girl you can find? Fine. Yes. It’s humiliating that you have everyone thinking you prefer her. Isn’t that what you want, to make me look bad?”
“My life doesn’t revolve around you.”
“It should,” she purred. She reached for my cheek. I swatted her hand away. “We’re good together. You know we are.”
I was going to get whiplash from her constantly changing attitude.
“I don’t think so.” I laughed.
Frustration rippled below her artfully made up face. “You run around, have your fun. I can take it. But sooner or later, you’re going to come to your senses. We could be the sort of power couple that would put our parents to shame one day.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I’m right.” Her eyes dug into me. “Meg’s not good enough for you. Her dad owns a paint store. Her mother does nothing.”
“How do you know that?” I regretted the question instantly.
She flashed a wicked smile. “I’m resourceful. You’d be surprised at what I know.”
I had no idea if she was bluffing.
“Everyone has secrets, Luke.”
“Even you?” I taunted. “I mean, other than you hop into bed with any guy who makes you see dollar signs? Then again, that’s not much of a secret. Oh. Wait. I bet your prim and proper mother doesn’t know.”
“Do you think Meg’s any different?”
“I’m not discussing Meg with you.” I stepped out into the hallway. “Coming?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I knew she’d follow. She had to keep up appearances. It would look bad to her daddy if she sequestered herself away while I joined them.
I hadn’t even reached the staircase before Jaclyn scampered up behind me. I was choosing the lesser of two evils. Hang out downstairs with the parents, or hang out alone in my room with Jaclyn.
Parents won out. Obviously.
Chapter Fourteen
Meg
Well over a month into our arrangement, things were starting to feel oddly…normal. As the weather turned cooler I was becoming accustomed to hopping into Luke’s nice, warm SUV every morning. The temptation to let him pick me up instead of riding my Rebel was increasing with each blustery day. But I hadn’
t succumbed yet.
Jaclyn was still with Trevor. I had started to wonder if maybe he had grown on her. She barely paid any attention to Luke at all anymore, which is exactly what he had wanted.
I knew when this was over it would leave an enormous blank space in my life.
I tried not to think about it.
For now, I was enjoying myself.
Most days. Today was not one of those days.
“This goes above and beyond,” I whispered to Luke as he took my hand. He led me through the door of Natalia’s.
The hostess led us to a private back room. Luke’s parents were already seated.
“Happy birthday, Mrs. Prescott.” I forced a smile onto my face.
“Thank you.” She eyed me up like I was a fly in her merlot.
“Nice of you to finally join us,” she said to Luke.
“Sorry,” he replied. “Dad didn’t give me much warning, but he insisted I needed to invite Meg.”
“Did he?” She turned her attention from Luke to raise a questioning brow at her husband.
“I thought we ought to get to know her a little better,” Edward explained.
“If you were going to invite guests, I really would’ve preferred that you invite the Winterses,” she scolded. “It’s been too long since we’ve seen them.”
“The waiter should be back shortly,” Edward told us, ignoring his wife. His menu was already resting in front of him, as was Lenore’s. An open bottle of wine sat between them. Their glasses were already more than half empty.
I picked up my menu and started flipping through it. I was scanning the pastas when our waiter returned.
“Do you know what you’re having?” Luke asked.
“The crab ravioli.”
“Are you sure?” Mr. Prescott frowned.
Was it too expensive? I tried to find something in the lower range because I didn’t want him to think I was taking advantage of him. Ravioli wasn’t exceptionally high priced. Not like the Risotto Pescatore or the Zuppa Di Pesce.
“Would you prefer that I order something else?”
“It’s just that there are an awful lot of calories in that. And if you add in a bit of bread you’ll be on carbohydrate overload. You’ve got some nice curves now but it doesn’t take much to turn curves into—”
