by Box Set
Oh. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.
He pried himself away from the girl and she pranced down the steps to her convertible. Then he spotted me.
He came scrambling down the steps to where I was getting out of my car. “Hey, Towns! Everything okay?”
Good question.
I glanced over at the girl, who was in her car and pulling out of the driveway. “Didn’t she graduate last year?”
“Townsey? Are you okay?”
“Sure,” I said. “I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “Actually, I came over to tell you about Alex.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah. He’s great actually.”
Hearst’s shoulders relaxed. “Come on in. You can tell me about it.”
“No,” I said. “It won’t take long, and I really should get home. I have that background check to do.”
Hearst’s brown eyes searched mine for a long moment. “You know you’re always welcome here. I already ordered dinner too.”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to stay. I didn’t want to feel this way either. Uncomfortable. Things had never been hard between Hearst and me. “I can’t. But listen, he came to class today. I was, um, I was ten minutes late. When I got there, he was dancing his butt off. He can dance.” This time I smiled for real. “He’s going to be fine there.”
“Of course he is, Townsey. He would have been fine even if he couldn’t dance. Those kids are great, and you did a good thing.”
“We did a good thing,” I said. “We are doing good things.”
He nodded. “We are.” He opened his arms as if to hug me, but I took a step back.
“I need to go,” I said.
“Call me later,” he said. “Tell me about the background check.”
“Sure,” I said.
He stood there, in his driveway, and watched as I climbed into the sedan and drove away.
I couldn’t take a deep breath, and as I pulled through his gate and onto his street, I let myself wallow in my latest realization. I now knew that I didn’t like Noah anymore. I liked Hearst.
I could never, ever tell anyone.
* * *
When you realize that you have strong and unrequited feelings for your best friend that are no doubt destined to crush your heart to bits, you have to focus on important tasks to keep your mind from going to dark places. Fortunately for me, I had work to do.
The woman my brother was having me investigate was in her early twenties, and I figured at first that it was just a run-of-the-mill employer background check. When I finished the basics, I saw that his email asked me to go deeper. No problem. I loved this stuff. I spent another hour online checking into the woman.
I didn’t have any problem finishing the search and typing up a detailed report on her. She was pretty normal. She hadn’t finished college. She worked for a local company, and she loved Pomeranians, chocolate, and swimming. The only thing out of the ordinary was that she was suing her former employer for sexual harassment. I didn’t particularly want to put that in the report because she seemed nice, and I was afraid she wouldn’t get the job that my brother was checking her out for. But we had ethics, and when we performed a background search, we turned over all of the findings. I included three examples of common tweets, facebook posts, and Instagram pics. Then I saved everything to proof read in the morning and started on my homework.
I smiled as I opened my history book. It was working. I was helping my brother. When I’d hatched the plan, I hadn’t known about his depression, and now that I did, I was relieved to have some way to lessen the burden on him. I’d saved him several hours of work, probably more, because I was pretty fast at this stuff. Really being interested in it made it go much faster.
My phone beeped and I glanced up from the history book. A text from Hearst. I picked up the phone. He’d already texted twice.
I stared at the phone in my hand. “Are you busy?” he’d asked. That meant he wanted to talk. Normally I would have said, “No,” or just saved us a step and called him. Today, I didn’t really feel like talking to him. I didn’t want to examine the reasons. I didn’t want to sort through my feelings for him. I’d never get to sleep tonight until I tried to sort it all out, but I didn’t have to do it yet. Instead, I could text him that I was busy. Then I could read the history chapter. I could put off the self-analysis that I so desperately wanted to avoid.
Of all the stupid things to go and do, I had developed romantic feelings for Hearst. Hearst! My friend whose parents had messed him up emotionally so badly that he basically disguised himself under layers of black and, well, more black. I wasn’t sure what he looked like underneath to tell you the truth. He said his hair was naturally light, but I’d never seen it. I’d never even seen pictures of it which tells you how messed up his family was. His house didn’t have any photos of him. The walls of most homes strained under the weight of family photos. Not his house. The only things hanging on the walls were framed art and sculptural art. What had his parents done with all of that? Where had they put the outline of his hand that he turned into a turkey in first grade? He had to have done it. We had all done it. Had they trashed it? Who could do that?
I glanced back at the text message. My friend was the loneliest person in the world. It didn’t matter that he dated. I was his only real friend. I couldn’t imagine living that kind of life. I didn’t want it for Hearst and I didn’t want it for my brother.
I could hide from my feelings and still give my friend a call. I pressed the icon on the screen and he answered immediately.
“Hey,” he said, “I thought you were going to blow me off for a minute there.”
“Never,” I said. May he never know the truth. Any of the truth. “So what’s up?”
“I’m bored,” he said. “What are you doing?”
“I finished the background check, and now I’m reading the chapter for history.”
“It’s kind of interesting actually. I read it last weekend. No, maybe the week before.”
Bored. Lonely. Always weeks ahead on his homework. “It’s only twenty pages,” I said, “so even if you’re exaggerating like usual, it won’t kill me.”
His deep chuckle rumbled through the phone. “Hey, I thought it was interesting.”
“I have to question your taste,” I said, thinking of the last book we read in English. He had called it brilliant. I personally hoped no teen ever had to read it again.
When he didn’t answer immediately, I thought about what I’d said. Oh. He probably thought I meant the girl from today. Or the girl from yesterday. I hadn’t. And yet we were stuck here in uncomfortable silence anyway.
“I have good taste in best friends,” he said finally.
I did not want this to turn serious. “And lots of other things,” I said in a cheerful voice. “Chinese food, coffee, even some music.”
He laughed. “You have terrible taste in music.”
“Hey! Just because you don’t recognize that commercialized pop music has its place. And you can’t judge music designed for dancing in clubs when you refuse to actually dance to it.” This was better. We were back on track, and I sat in my room smiling into my phone.
“I’m glad Alex did okay today. I found out who has been picking on him. It’s a group of guys who really need a lesson in civility.”
“Civility?”
“Lesson in civility. It’s my new catch phrase. Classy-ing it up. You know instead of saying they need their butts kicked.”
“I’d keep the butt-kicking in your repertoire. It seems like an audience-specific kind of thing. When are you going to start your lesson for Alex’s bullies?”
“Tomorrow. I’ve already crafted emails to send them. They have to reply that they will stop within one hour or I start phase two.”
“What’s phase two?”
“Phase two involves making sure their parents know about their more questionable internet search choices.”
“And if they have been behaving on the i
nternet.”
“Townsey, nobody behaves on the internet. But if by some miracle, there was nothing to expose, I’d create something to expose.”
“Awfully sinister-sounding for the Professor of Civility.”
“Hmm. Not bad. I think I prefer Imposer of Civility.”
“Imposter of Civility?”
“That too.”
“Deposer of Civility?”
“How come you are so much better at making fun of me than at coming up with serious names for me?”
“Good question. Maybe I have a talent for mocking you?”
“You definitely have a talent for mocking me. You are immune to my charm.”
I wasn’t. “I’m the only person who has ever witnessed your charm, who really knows you.”
“You are,” he said quietly.
Things were getting too serious. “I should go finish my homework.”
“See you in the morning,” he said.
“Night,” I said. I disconnected and stared down at my book. I had to get over this crush, and soon!
Chapter 6
I woke early on Wednesday morning and proofread the report for Graham. Then I sent it from my fake email to his email.
Then I got ready for school, adding a little bit of makeup to my routine. Not too much, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bothered with eyeliner, blush, and lip gloss just to go to school. At the last second, I thought about Hearst’s eyelashes and swiped some mascara on my own.
I flipped past the longest plaid skirt in my closet. I’d worn it all year despite the fact that it needed to be hemmed. It was longer than the school required and hit me at exactly the wrong point just below my knees. The skirt was not flattering. I only had three, and the other two were on the floor. I picked one up and shook it off. I hated re-wearing clothes. I examined the skirt for stains and then gave it a sniff. I went ahead and put it on. Then I stuffed the long one in my bag to take to the dry cleaners for alteration after school. I looked like a grandmother in that skirt. Finally remembering to get it hemmed had absolutely nothing to do with Hearst. Nothing at all.
When I got in his car twenty minutes later, Hearst grinned and held up my coffee.
“You already got it again? Are you sleeping at all?”
“Sure,” he said. Then he looked closely at my face. “You’re wearing makeup.”
“Yeah.”
“You put on mascara?”
I was not at all comfortable with him focusing his gaze on my lashes. “Um, yeah.”
“Why?”
“Why not? I wear makeup sometimes.”
He shook his head. “You never wear mascara.”
“Sometimes I do.” Usually only when Felicity and Liz and I were dressing up and taking pics together, but whatever.
“It’s okay, dork,” I said. “You still have way more makeup on than me.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “Now I understand.”
“You do?”
“Sure. You’re intimidated by my hotness and by your brother’s makeup skills. So you’re trying to catch up.”
His grin told me he was kidding. Only he wasn’t wrong about his hotness.
“I can’t let my brother surpass my makeup skills,” I said. “I would lose my girl card.”
Hearst rolled his eyes. “Girls can do whatever they want. They don’t have cards.”
“Maybe guys are held to restrictive standards of machismo,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t protect my girliness.”
He put the gear shift into first and shook his head. “You aren’t a girly girl.”
He wouldn’t deny that I was a girl though, right? Or would he? I decided not to press my luck.
* * *
When we got to school, Liz and Felicity were walking in from the parking lot too. Two of the guys who were vying for Felicity’s attention were with them.
“Hey guys,” I said.
“Townsey,” Liz said, moving closer. “Are you wearing makeup?”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I said.
Felicity squinted at me. “Mascara?” She grinned. “This is about Noah isn’t it?”
Oh no. I glared at her. “No. And I asked you not to bring that up.” I motioned to Hearst with my eyes.
She glanced at Hearst. “Right. Sorry.”
“You look pretty,” Liz said.
“What about Noah?” Hearst asked. “What’s going on with Noah?”
“Nothing,” I said.
I watched Hearst watching Liz and Felicity sharing a look. He glanced over at me. It was pretty obvious that I had shared something with the girls that I hadn’t shared with him.
Between the heavily-lined lids of his eyes, I almost swore I saw a flash of hurt.
“It’s really nothing,” I said.
Hearst didn’t meet my gaze. “Sure,” he said. “I’ll let you have some privacy with your friends.” Then he walked away.
Felicity shook her head. “He’s so strange. Does he really expect you to share your crushes with him? He doesn’t talk about all the girls he dates with you, does he?”
No. And ouch. “Not really.”
Liz grinned at me. “So you do still like Noah.”
“No,” I protested. “I don’t think I do.”
“Then what’s with the makeup,” Liz asked.
I glanced from Liz to Felicity. They were not going to let up. I sighed. “Fine. I maybe do. I might. It’s not impossible.” I didn’t like Noah, but I hadn’t flat out lied to them. Exactly.
Felicity threw her arms around me and hugged me tight. “We are going to make this happen!”
“What?” I asked.
“You and Noah,” she said. “Consider it done.”
“Nownsy?” Liz said. “Toah?”
“God no,” I said.
“We’ll figure it out,” Felicity assured me. “Give me a week. Two tops.”
I searched my brain desperately for something to distract them. If only I could put them on bully patrol. But they didn’t know about Hearst’s good deeds.
Maybe the teachers would give a lot of homework tonight. Maybe I could provoke them into it. I could be a jerk in class and get us all a nasty punishment assignment. It would almost be worth it.
Liz and Felicity high-fived.
This was going to be a disaster.
* * *
The only thing going right in my world was that Graham emailed me.
* * *
Carol,
Great work. I’ll be sending you some more work today or tomorrow.
* * *
Thank you,
Graham
* * *
I pumped my fist in the air. Success!
* * *
I read the text from Hearst before class started.
Hearst: Which Noah?
Seriously?
Me: Why?
Hearst: Noah Blake is a jerk. Noah Rogers is a bore.
He wasn’t wrong about Noah Blake. Noah Rogers wasn’t a bore though.
Me: Rogers. Why?
Hearst: I thought you were over him.
I wrinkled my brow. Me: I never told you I liked him.
Hearst: You used to blush whenever he was around.
Me: I did? When?
Hearst: Freshman year. And last fall.
Well, crud. I hadn’t realized I was that obvious.
Me: I used to like him. I don’t now.
Hearst: You do. The girls think you do.
Me: I don’t. They are wrong.
Hearst: You can talk to me about guys.
Me: Are you going to talk to me about girls?
There was a long delay. Finally, he texted back.
Hearst: Never mind.
That’s what I thought.
I slipped my phone into my pocket and got ready for class to start. I never wanted to hear Hearst talking about girls. Never ever.
* * *
At lunch, Felicity and Liz kept giving Hearst rude looks, like they wanted
him to leave so we could talk. I shook my head at them.
Hearst winked at me. He was staying to make them miserable.
I was halfway through the low quality lasagna when a senior I’d seen before came up to Hearst. She had long black hair and gorgeous blue eyes. She wasn’t a mean girl though, so I tried not to glare at her.
“Ahoy, Matey,” she said, putting her hand on my friend’s arm and sliding into the empty chair next to him.
Hearst’s mask of indifference slipped a little and he said, “Ahoy what?”
“I should have realized with the eyeliner,” she said. “It makes so much sense now.”
I glanced over at Liz and Felicity who were hiding their faces behind their hands as their bodies shook with silent laughter.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Hearst finally said, “Are you okay?”
She grinned at him and wound a strand of hair around her finger. “Aye, Captain.”
What the heck? Had she been watching too much Spongebob?
Hearst turned to me.
I shook my head. I had no idea what was going on.
We both looked across the table where Liz was turning red and Felicity had her head down on the table, shielding her face with her arms.
“No clue,” I said.
He glanced back at the girl.
She winked at him. “Batten down the hatches. Aargh!”
I giggled. I couldn’t help it.
She leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Then she got up and left the cafeteria.
Liz was laughing so hard now that she was struggling to breathe. Felicity was smacking her hand on the table and guffawing.
“What in the world just happened?” I asked.
Hearst stuffed the remains of his lunch into the paper sack and stood. “I should see if she’s okay.”
I didn’t bother to acknowledge his excuse for following the pretty senior. I turned to my friends. “What did you do?”
The uncontrolled laughter of my two friends was attracting attention and there was no way they were answering me any time soon. I shook my head. “I’ll be outside when you regain your sanity,” I said. Then I grabbed my bag and my tray and went to dump the tray on my way out.
