by Sally Henson
Wow. This is all new to me. “Really?” Does she feel like she has to give in to her parents or that I’d be mad if her dreams change? “I wasn't expecting that it might not really be what you want.”
A few moments pass while I look down and consider what this may mean. Does Cameron think I’d be mad at him if what he wants to stay on the farm too? What if Lane wants to be a teacher stay in Stelmo?
“I'm sorry that I haven't been the friend you've needed. I'm sorry I've expected you to feel the same way about getting out of here as I do.” I put my feet on the floor, hug her tight, and try to lighten the mood. “I'm really sorry I didn’t cowgirl-up and shed these tears.”
“You are such a chick.” She leans her weight into me and playfully knocks me off balance. “You’d never make it the cattle baron’s farm.”
I chuckle and tease, “I don’t know. I think your dad would let me just drive him around in the truck all day.”
Tobi rolls her eyes, pulling her knees to her chest. “Yeah, whatever.”
“Seriously, though. It’s your life, Tobi. Take on the farm if that’s what you want. And thanks for the pep talk. You don't get enough credit for your profoundness.” I let out a chuckle at my last comment.
“Profound, huh?” she giggles. “That's a new one. I don't think I've ever been called that before.” She always knows how to lighten the mood. “All right. I think I have more profoundness to reveal to you.” She giggles some more as she lies back down on her belly atop her sleeping bag and looks at me.
I mimic her sarcastic tone, “Reveal your profoundness.” What kind of goof-ball revelation is she going to throw at me?
14
Regan
Tobi’s eyes brighten, flashing a wicked smile. “I’ve noticed some repressed chemistry within the group.”
My brows narrow. “Chemistry?”
“You know, physical attraction. Hello?” Her eyebrows wiggle up and down.
“Ohhh. Yeah, I know.” I raise my palm between us. “Rule number one, Tobi. No gossip.”
“How can it be gossip if I'm talking about you to you?” She cocks her head to the side.
I lean my head back. “Me? You're not going to start up about those stupid pictures.” I've had enough of dealing with Stacey's lies for the day—for the year—for my entire life.
“Regan, are you going to tell me you don't know what I'm talking about?” She narrows her eyes and pushes out her pouty lips.
With a slight shake of my head, I narrow my eyes right back at her. “I don't have the slightest idea of what you’re talking about. And can tell from your tone, I'm not going to like it.”
She leans up on her elbows and I tense up, unsure of what she's about to say. “If you don't have any idea what I'm talking about, let me put it to you this way . . .” She pauses for dramatic effect and gives a long sigh as if she's just read the most romantic, swoon worthy passage. “It's becoming clear to me that Lane is either developing or, more likely, already has an affinity for you.” She studies me, waiting for my reaction.
My muscles relax. “Of course, he likes me; he's my best friend. I thought you had some crazy story you were going to tell me. Maybe I should take back my profoundness comment until you can come up with something better than that.” I flip over on my back and look through the screen for any stars that can be seen.
“Listen to this list I've compiled over the past few days; then tell me I'm wrong.”
“Oh, I'll listen, all right.”
“A. Every time you got mad at Cameron yesterday and were about to blow a fuse, Lane stepped in and soothed you. 2.”
I laugh at her intertwining of alphabet and numbers.
“When you left the cliffs, he followed you. C. Cameron said Lane stayed back after basketball tonight to talk you into coming to the diner because he knew you'd still be upset. D. He looked like someone had punched him in the gut and stole his favorite dog, when you were describing about how you and Cam were touching in Stacey’s photos.”
My stomach starts to knot up. I think I see where she's going with this.
“5. Then he looked like he was going to punch Cameron in the face for the description you gave. Did you hear his voice when he asked Cameron what you two were doing up there?”
I close my eyes and slowly shake my head.
“Wait, how many is that?” She counts on her fingers. “F. He asked you for a ride home when his dad offered to pick him up after his meeting at the firehouse this evening. 7. I was sitting behind the wheel and got the best view, even better than you, of what was going on between you two on the hood of your car.”
I sit straight up and whip my head toward her, but she persists. “That’s not how just friends touch each other and look at each other.”
My mouth hangs open. I can't believe she's all out accusing me of breaking rule number three. I start to protest, but she holds her palm up to me, uttering a staccato, “Ah! I'm not finished.”
I growl, shaking my head at her.
“You looked scared to death. But Lane looked like he was going to wrap his arms around you, pull you close, run his fingers through your hair and kiss you. Desire, tha—”
“Hold it right there!” I've heard more than I want to. “He's been acting a little weird, but this list is absurd. Lane and I are like brother and sister. Talk like this is how rumors get started. He laughed and carried on with you surfing, too. He's just been—stressed. He starts college soon.”
“Maybe you have a point with the stress and leaving soon for college, but deny it all you want, there's something else, something more between the two of you. And really, Regan, it's okay.” She stops to let out a great big yawn. “It's okay for you to like him that way.” She gives me a soft smile and says, “I'm tired.” Then suddenly, she flops over on her back and pulls the sleeping bag over her legs.
The knot in my stomach has spread to my chest. I don't like her talking like that. I lie back down, rubbing my stomach in hopes of soothing the uneasiness of her accusation. We need to get this straight. “Lane and I are best friends, Tobi. We're not more than that. We don't break the rules.”
“Ah. So, you say.”
“Tobi,” I growl and throw my pillow at her.
She giggles. “Okay, okay. It's obvious to me you're more than friends. But I won't say another word unless either of you wants to talk to me about it.” She tosses my pillow back to me.
“You are so ridiculous. Go to sleep. Your brain is suffering from a lack of oxygen. It probably took all your energy to think up those ridiculous ABC, 123 points. I'm surprised you made it through without passing out.” I shake my head, roll my eyes, then sigh.
I lie back down and stare into the darkness, trying everything to get her comments out of my head.
“By the way,” Tobi ekes out in a sleepy voice, “rule number three is so overrated and outdated.”
Tobi’s teasing, making fun, right? She doesn’t really think Lane would want something more. I mean, he’s been my best friend since forever. My pulse increases as I think about him catching me staring at him laying on our rafts at the cliffs. He’s good-looking, so what. There’s lots of decent looking guys. It’s not the first time I’ve checked him out, and he looks at me too. He’s a boy. I’m a girl. That’s all it is.
I close my eyes for a moment and try to focus on the crickets and tree frogs. They have such a soothing effect on me. It's working. The pressure in my chest lessens and the knots in my stomach begin to unravel. There's been so much happening in such a short amount of time. I didn't sleep the greatest last night and it's late. I'm so tired right now, I don't think I can make sense out of anything. So, I give in to brain-veg an as the white noise of nighttime in the country lulls me to sleep.
15
Regan
I don't really trust the reliability of Dad’s Geo Metro car, so I leave for work ten minutes earlier than normal. This thing is so loud it’s hard to even think in here.
When I pass Lane’s road, I thin
k about car surfing with him a couple days ago. My heart flip-flops against my ribs remembering how nervous I felt standing next to him on the hood. I’m still not sure why he acted so weird that night.
A few minutes pass and I drive by Tobi’s road. Does she really think Lane likes me more than a friend? I’ve been doing my best to forget her stupid list of how she knows Lane likes me. That must be one of the most harebrained things she’s ever come up with. I shake the thought of that whole night out of my head and think about tonight instead. Tobi, Haylee, and Cameron are going to a movie and Lane's working until seven. I guess I’ll be on my own. I’ll be glad to curl up in my bed with one of my favorite series.
When I pull into the gravel parking lot, I decide to park on the far side facing the road. This way I don't have to back out of a parking space with a stick shift. I'm the first one to the pool, so I wait by the gate for Ms. Willis to arrive.
Once she arrives, I assess the locker room on my way to sign the time sheet. Ms. Willis heads out to the pump room to check the pool chemicals to be sure the PH and chlorine levels are right. Checklist in hand, I head back to the girls’ locker room. I hear a vehicle skid through the rock parking lot. When I get back to the office, Jimmy and Joey Houston are walking down the sidewalk, pushing and shoving each other.
Seeing them together makes me think of my brother. I miss him.
“Who was driving?” I ask
Jimmy lifts his brows and pokes his thumb toward his brother. “Joey. He's a lousy driver, but Mom's making me let him drive to get some practice.”
“You're such a liar.” He shoves Jimmy into the wall and runs to the boys’ locker room. Joey gives a quiet chuckle, holding a finger to his smiling lips as he walks by.
Joey and Jimmy razz each other constantly, making the time pass so fast Ms. Willis gives us the cue to sound the whistle for the pool break.
There are always a few stragglers we coax out of the water and through the locker rooms. I stand in the doorway of the girls' locker room to make sure no one comes back out to the pool. Once it looks as if all have left, I make my way back to the office.
Joey and Jimmy come in from the boys' locker room, and we wait around while Ms. Willis goes to check on the pumps and retest the PH and chlorine levels of the water.
“You guys can leave. I'll wait for Ms. Willis to finish up.”
“Great. Thanks.” Jimmy pushes his brother to the end of the office and under the ledge. “Hey, you working tonight?”
“Yeah, I'm on for tonight. How about you two?”
“We'll be here.”
“See ya,” I yell as they walk out of my sight through the locker room and past the front gates. I lean my forearms on the ledge of the office near the pool and scan the park. My stomach grumbles for food. All of a sudden cheese cubes from the diner sound delicious.
A gentle breeze blows through the office bringing nice fragrance. It’s not flowery. I breathe in again. It smells masculine. I look around the pool and fence but see nothing out of the ordinary.
Ms. Willis is taking forever. My stomach growls again. Maybe if I make myself busy it’ll distract my hunger pangs. As I turn to straighten the candy, I see someone standing in the pool entrance.
“Oh!” I press my hand to my chest. My knees buckle a little. I lean over to take a deep breath and get a grip.
Lane tilts his head back, laughing like a hyena.
“You jerk,” I fire at him. I keep my gaze on him, cocking my head to the side and pursing my lips together in annoyance.
He grips the ledge as his head falls forward. If it weren’t for his shoulders shimmying up and down, I would’ve thought the hysterics were over.
I take another step and swat his shoulder. “It wasn’t that funny.”
“Oh,” he moans, lifting his gaze to peek at me through his lashes.
Those stinking dimples of his are too adorable for me to stay mad. I stand and blow a puff of air through my teeth and across my lips, taking in the ugly blue and white work shirt he’s wearing. It makes his pretty blue eyes stand out more than normal.
I lean my forearms on the ledge as he releases his grip and straightens his stance. The shock he gave me is still making laps inside my body.
He bites his lip with another shudder of silent laughter, and I can’t seem to look away from the point where his teeth meet his bottom lip.
“I’m sorry.” He sighs. “I can’t resist sneaking up on you. It always makes me laugh.” Lane puts his hand on my folded arms and rubs back and forth. His words and touch break my focus on his lips. He pulls back. “You’re shaking.”
I bug my eyes out at him. “You scared the crap out of me. Why do you keep doing that to me?”
He laughs again.
I roll my eyes and try to act mad, asking, “What are you doing here?”
“I thought you might want to hang out during your lunch break.” He leans his shoulder against the concrete blocks framing the window.
His movement stirs the air and I realize the masculine fragrance I smelled earlier is him. I take in a slow, deep, inconspicuous breath through my nose.
Lane tilts his head and asks, “Do you want to grab something to eat?”
“Uh.” I clear my throat. “Sure. I need to wait for Ms. Willis to finish up.”
“No need to wait,” she says, entering the office behind me. “I'm all finished. I'll see you back here after break.”
“Okay, bye.” I cross the office and walk through the locker room to meet Lane.
16
Regan
Lane waits for me by the gate with his hands in the pockets of his khaki-colored cargo pants. I hate those baggy pants. My nose scrunches as I meet him.
“What?” Lane pulls his hands out of his pockets, palms up.
“Oh, nothing.” I shake my head. “Where'd you park? I didn't hear you pull up.”
“I pulled up when everyone was leaving.” He motions to his truck on the edge of the parking lot by the road and then reaches up and twirls my ponytail around his fingers. “How many people did you have today? It must’ve been packed.”
“It was. I don’t know the numbers, but packed makes the day go by faster.” He let’s go of my hair, and we walk side by side to his truck. I get in the passenger side as he slides in behind the wheel.
I plop my bag on the floorboard and fasten my seat belt. “I'm hungry, where do you want to go?”
He sets three small pieces of paper folded in half on the dash like little tents. On the front of each one is a hand-drawn picnic basket numbered one through three.
I smile. “What's this?”
He raises his eyebrows and begins, “You have three options of where we eat. The picnic basket you choose will determine our eating destination.”
I snort and shake my head. “Clever.” My vision narrows in on each piece of paper.
Lane booms in a game-show host voice, “Which basket do you choose?”
It makes me giggle. “Do they all say the same thing on the inside?” I taunt him.
“Pssh. Of course not. Now choose a basket.” His voice not so much game-showy, but more cut-to-the-chase.
“I choose....” I pause for dramatic effect. “Basket number two.” I lean forward to grab the paper and open it, but Lane snatches all three and sticks them in his pocket before I have the chance to see them.
“Hey!” I pull at his arm to get the papers, but I'm too late.
He grins enough that his dimples make an appearance, but he refuses to look my way. Instead, he focuses on the road and pulls onto the street.
“They did all say the same thing! That's exactly something you would do.” I fold my arms and pout.
He laughs at me. “They don't have the same thing written on them. I'll show you when we get to where we're going.” He turns left at the stop sign by the park.
“What did number two say then?” I'm wondering where we’re going. He only gets thirty minutes for lunch break.
“Basket number two is
a picnic.” He slows down like he’s going to turn.
“Picnic? You brought food?” We pack PB-and-J sandwiches and eat when we go fishing or swimming, but a surprise picnic? Now, that's new.
“You're full of questions, aren't you? Yes, I brought food.” He stresses his words and gives me a dramatic eye roll. “A standard picnic lunch—cold fried chicken and potato salad. I splurged for our drinks, though.” He turns left at the last entrance to the park. The road winds around and connects to the other entrances. It's a small park with a long, narrow pond leading into a wooded area along the outer edge of the property. “I want to show you something.” He turns off the road onto the grass headed to the woods.
My brows raise. “Uh, should we be driving on the grass? I don’t want to get in trouble.”
He gives me a sideways glance. “It’s fine.” He drives through the trees and parks on the other side by the railroad tracks.
“I've never been back here.” I look all around. The tree branches and leaves cover us from the sun, and though the trees aren't thick enough to completely hide us, it would be hard to see us back here from the park.
We slide out, and Lane reaches over the bed of the truck to get the cooler and a blanket rolled up like a sleeping bag with twine binding it together.
“Open the tailgate.” He gestures with his head.
I do and take the red, white, and blue patchwork quilt, laying it flat on the tailgate for us to sit on. Lane places the cooler in the middle of the tailgate and sits down. I sit on the other side.
He hands me a Styrofoam cup with a straw and a spoon sticking out of the top. “Grape slushy float.”
My mouth falls open with a little gasp of delight. “Thank you.” I kick my legs and take a sip of the sweet and sour goodness. “Mmmmm.”
