“Thanks.” I take a sip to find that it’s only lukewarm. But I don’t complain. “How’s it going, Em?”
She just sighs and looks down.
“Can’t get her to talk,” says Andrea, looking concerned.
“Did you tell Emily about the rumor that started circulating last night?” I ask.
Andrea’s eyes grow big as she shakes her head no. “I, uh, was waiting for you to get here.”
“Well, don’t worry. Emily already knows.”
Emily looks more interested. “Knows what?”
“Kirsti got it into her head that Todd may have cheated on you with Shawna,” begins Andrea.
Emily rolls her eyes now. “I figured it was just a matter of time.”
“So, it’s true?” asks Andrea.
Emily shrugs.
“Did you talk to Todd yet?” I ask.
“I haven’t seen him around.”
“But don’t you think that’s kind of suspicious?”
“I don’t know.” Now Emily is looking irritated. “Maybe you’re the one who’s suspicious, Zoë.”
I frown.
“It was Kirsti who started the rumor,” says Andrea.
Emily gives her a skeptical look. “Don’t be so sure.”
“Look, Emily,” I say. “If you’re saying that I started the rumor, you better take it back. You’re the only one I ever told.” Then I remember something. “Well, other than Justin.”
Emily points her finger at me. “So maybe Justin leaked it.”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“But you don’t know, do you, Zoë?” Emily looks at me with eyes that are full of angry tears. “You don’t know anything.”
“But I saw them,” I say. “And not just once.”
Her fists are tightly clenched now. “So you say.”
“Oh, Emily.” I glance over at Andrea who looks somewhat shocked by this revelation. “I wouldn’t make something like that up. Besides, I’m not the only one who saw them.”
Emily looks alarmed now. “Who else saw them?”
“Casey Renwick.”
She frowns.
“And she’s not exactly the kind of girl who’d make something like that up.”
“Whatever.” Emily looks slightly stumped as she fidgets with her empty cup.
“Why don’t you just call him?” I suggest. “Just ask him and get everything out in the open?”
“Look,” she says to me. “I know that Todd’s not perfect. And maybe he was flirting with Shawna, or whatever. But nobody’s perfect, Zoë.” Now she narrows her eyes. “Everyone sure knows that your boyfriend isn’t.”
“What do you mean by that?” Now I’m feeling seriously irked. Who’s she to go pointing the finger at Justin?
“Come on, you guys,” says Andrea. “This is getting too—”
“What do I mean?” says Emily. “Don’t you remember what happened last summer when he was two-timing Amber with Katy?”
I kind of blink.
“Yeah,” she says as if she’s just won a huge victory. “Memories can be convenient, can’t they? Well, don’t forget that Justin isn’t any better than Todd. And you’re still with him, aren’t you?”
“But that’s different. I wasn’t going with Justin way back then. He’s never cheated on me. But you know that Todd’s cheated on you.” I grab her hand now and make her look at me. “And he’s cheated with someone who has a very contagious STD, Emily! That’s a whole lot different. I just hope he hasn’t given it to you!”
Now her eyes are flaming and I know I’ve gone too far.
Way too far. I also know, or at least I suspect, that it is too late. I mean Emily and I are pretty close, and I can tell by her expression that, despite my warnings, she has probably had sex with Todd since the Shawna factor moved in. I feel equal portions of anger, sadness, and concern.
“Thank you very much for that helpful information,” she says in an icy voice as she stands up and reaches for her bag. Then she turns and walks off. Just like that.
“Oh, man,” I say as I put my head in my hands. “I guess I really blew that.”
“Is it true?” asks Andrea, sounding stunned. “Did you actually catch Todd and Shawna together?”
Well, it’s not like this is some big secret anymore. Besides, of all people, Andrea is probably the most trustworthy. So I tell her the whole sordid story.
“I can’t believe it.”
“I know,” I agree. “And neither could Emily. But it’s true. I mean why would I make up something like that?”
“No way. I mean you and Emily have been best friends for like forever. Still, it’s too bad. I feel sorry for Emily.”
“And I told her the very first time I caught them.”
“But she wouldn’t listen.”
“It just makes me so mad. It’s like she trusted Todd more than me. Like I would lie to her. And then she has the nerve to compare Todd and Justin. Like Justin would do something like—like that.” And suddenly I find that I’m crying too. I sort of expect that Andrea will say something reassuring, that she’ll comfort me and remind me that Justin’s not like that. But she just sits there watching me.
Finally I stop crying and use a paper napkin to blow my nose. “Sorry,” I tell her. “It’s just so upsetting.”
She nods. “I know.”
“And I think it was sleazy of Emily to drag Justin and me into her mess. I mean it’s our three-week anniversary this weekend,” I say. “And we’re going out to celebrate tonight. And all this crud about Todd and Shawna . . . well, it’s like a great big wet blanket. You know?”
Now Andrea looks concerned.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Oh, nothing.” She glances around uncomfortably.
“No, it’s something. What?”
“Well, Justin’s a nice guy, Zoë. And I know you guys haven’t been together that long, but . . .”
“But what?”
“Oh, I should probably just shut up.”
“Not now. You know something. Spit it out.”
So, in her tactful Andrea way, she tells me that Katy was indeed pregnant and that she really did have an abortion.
I’m not sure how to respond. “How do you know?”
“Katy told me.”
“Oh.” I consider this. “But you don’t know that Justin was the father—”
“He was.”
“But he told me that Katy had been cheating on him. Maybe the guy she’d cheated with—”
“Katy never cheated on Justin.”
Something about the way she says that seems to imply something more. “Are you saying that Justin cheated on Katy?”
She gets an expression that could best be translated as “duh.”
“Well, I know there was that rumor about Thea,” I begin. I feel like I’m drowning now, and grabbing for something—anything to keep me afloat. “But that was ages ago and . . .”
“Katy told me that Thea wasn’t the only one, Zoë.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I feel fresh tears coming and, like Emily, I am ready to walk out.
“For the same reasons you told Emily what you saw. You’re my friend, Zoë. You’re a good person and I think you deserve to know what’s up.”
“Are you saying that you think Justin is cheating on me?” I finally manage to ask.
“No,” she assures me. “Not at all. As far as I can see, Justin seems totally smitten by you.”
I feel a small wave of relief. “And isn’t it possible that he’s done some regrettable things in the past, but that he could change?”
She nods. “Of course. And hopefully that’s what’s happened. Maybe I was wrong, Zoë. But I just felt you should know. Was that wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe not.”
“Really, Zoë, I didn’t mean to bum you. But if it were me, I’d really want to know. I mean if Jamie was doing something that might hurt me . . . You know what I mean?”
&nbs
p; I consider this. “I guess. But, lucky for you, Jamie seems to be about the only guy who hasn’t messed up.”
She shrugs this off, as if she’s not so convinced. “Well, you never really know, do you?”
Well, I for one, do not feel like cruising the mall now. In fact, I feel so exhausted that all I want to do is go home and sleep this all away.
“Sorry that Mission Emily blew up on us,” she says as we clear our table and start to leave.
“It was a nice try,” I tell her.
“And, really, don’t let what I said get you down. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Just be smart,” she says with a smile. “And have a good time with Justin tonight.”
“Thanks.”
But I don’t know if that’s even possible now. In fact, I feel like I don’t know much of anything at the moment. But my plan is to take a long nap and just forget about everything for a couple of hours. And maybe I’ll wake up with a perfectly clear head and all of life’s answers to all of life’s questions will be laid out right in front of me. Yeah, sure!
eighteen
I WAKE UP FROM MY NAP FEELING SURPRISINGLY HAPPY AND WHEN I TRY to figure out why, I remember that I’d just been enjoying the most delicious dream about Justin. We were at Disneyland together and we’d just gotten off a water ride, which had gotten us so soaked that we had to change clothes. And then I came out wearing this Cinderella costume and Justin was Prince Charming. And we had this great embrace with music and everything.
Okay, it was sort of hokey. But it was also very romantic and sweet. And suddenly I feel like our date tonight will be perfectly wonderful.
Thanks to my sister Amy, I have my outfit all planned for tonight. I went perusing her closet last week, just in case she left anything interesting behind. As it turned out, she did. Naturally, she didn’t forget to take any of her good everyday clothes, but she did leave a few of her dressier things behind. And this one dress, a retro number right out of the fifties, seemed to be calling my name. Naturally, I phoned to ask her permission to borrow it and she was perfectly fine with it. “But watch out,” she warned me in a teasing voice. “That’s one hot little dress.” Of course, I just laughed. But now that I have it on, I think I know what she means. Like wow! I hadn’t considered that I’m a little more “well endowed” (as Mom puts it) than Amy. But this slightly low-cut bodice really accentuates this fact. The dress is red satin with spaghetti straps and a tight waist with a full skirt that swooshes when you walk.
Now some people (like Mom) might expect me to wear a fancy pair of shoes with a dress like this, but this is where my sense of humor (or lack of fashion sense) kicks in, because I’ve decided to wear my red-and-black cowboy boots. I guess I don’t want to look too sexy tonight. Especially when I’m not totally sure where the evening is going. Or isn’t going. Besides, I do have my own personality. To further make this point, I top this outfit with my black zippered, hooded sweatshirt—although I do put a retro pin on it, which I think adds a touch of class. Then I put my hair into a high pony tail that I backcomb for fun. And although the whole thing may sound a little weird, I happen to think that I’m stylin’.
“Interesting outfit,” says my dad when I come downstairs. I can tell by his expression that he’s not sure what to think.
But I just grin. “Thanks, I like it.” And then Justin is here and I’m telling my parents good-night.
“Hey,” says Justin as he gives me a kiss just outside the door. “You look like fun.”
I laugh and give my ponytail a toss. “I feel like fun.”
Then I notice he seems to be holding something behind his back. “I know this is kind of corny, but I wanted to get you something for our anniversary.”
“What?” I say eagerly.
He pulls out a corsage. “It’s to wear on your wrist,” he says, and I can tell he feels silly.
“It’s beautiful.” I hold out my wrist so he can slip it on. “Thanks.”
Then he opens the door to a car I’ve never seen before. It’s a dark-colored Mercedes that smells brand new.
“Whose car?” I ask after he gets into the driver’s side.
“My folks let me borrow it.” He smiles. “Thought it might be nicer than my old Blazer.”
“Very uptown,” I say as I run my hand down the smooth leather upholstery.
“Yeah, we’re living high tonight.”
And so it seems we are. He pulls right up to the entrance of the restaurant (which is on the lower level of a very fancy hotel) and a valet takes his car keys and then Justin comes over and opens my door, takes me by the hand, and we walk through a spacious lobby where there is an enormous fountain, and marble floors, and large vases of real flowers, and velvety couches and chairs, and suddenly I’m feeling like a real, live princess.
We enter the restaurant now, and that’s when I notice that Justin has a small black backpack with him. I think this is kind of odd, but he winks at me as he checks it to the coat clerk, along with my sweatshirt. I fumble not to destroy my wrist corsage during this little transition.
Then it’s not long, because he had reservations, before we are seated at a candlelit table. I notice a few heads turn to take in my dress as we walk by. We’re not far from the dance floor, and a grand piano played by a middle-aged man wearing a tuxedo with tails. Little white lights go around the perimeter of the wooden floor, but no one is dancing yet.
All in all, this place is very, very elegant. And suddenly I’m wondering if the cowboy boots were a bad move, but I quickly forget about this once we start to order. Justin seems to have it all figured out, and since I’m already over my head (I mean my parents never eat at places this ritzy—at least not when I’m with them) I just sit back and let him order for me too. Fortunately I know enough to follow his lead when it comes to using the right silverware. By the time our entrée is served, I think I’m doing okay.
“Have you eaten here before?” I ask, trying not to reveal how impressed I am by all this grandeur.
He nods. “Yeah, my dad likes the food here.”
“I can understand that. It’s really delicious.”
“We usually just come for birthdays or special occasions.”
“Well, this feels like a pretty special occasion to me,” I say as I study him in the candlelight. Justin looks surprisingly sophisticated in a dark jacket and striped tie. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him this dressed up. Oh, maybe at a dance before, but he would’ve been with Katy then, and I probably would’ve been watching from a distance and wishing that he was with me. Well, tonight he is. He really is!
“You look so pretty, Zoë,” he tells me.
I’m glad I checked my sweatshirt with the coat lady now.
As we’re waiting for our desserts to arrive, I notice that several couples are beginning to dance.
“Want to try out their dance floor?” asks Justin.
“Sure.”
And so we join the other couples, all old enough to be our parents, but we hold our own with them (due to all our Oklahoma! rehearsals). And when it’s all said and done, the older couples smile at us and I can tell they’re impressed that we actually know our way around the dance floor.
“That was fun,” I tell Justin as we return to our table in time to see our waiter lighting our dessert on fire.
I suppress a shriek of delight (I mean I am trying to appear somewhat sophisticated) as I watch the flames fly high. The waiter seems pleased by my shocked reaction and offers me the first piece of something that had the word flambé in it, although I don’t recall the whole name. But I’m not disappointed because it really is delicious.
We dance again and then return to our table for coffee.
“I wish this evening could go on forever,” I say in a dreamy voice.
“No need for it to end yet,” he says.
Then he pays the bill (even leaving a generous tip) and we dance a couple more times before we go get my sweatshirt and his backpa
ck. Then we go back out to the spacious hotel lobby. We walk around for a bit, just holding hands and admiring the fountain and a small art exhibit along one wall. Then I notice the women’s restroom and excuse myself.
I think it’s the most beautiful restroom I’ve ever seen. Everything is marble and gold (at least it looks like gold) and there are bottles of lotion, perfume, and all sorts of things lined up on the big counter. And instead of paper towels or obnoxious dryers, they have real cloth hand towels rolled up neatly in a big basket. I had to watch to see another woman dry her hands and then she just threw the barely used towel into a hamper beneath the counter. Fascinating. Okay, I’m sure I’m spending way too much time in here.
I go back into the hotel lobby but don’t see Justin. And so I just wander around, figuring he must’ve found something equally interesting in the men’s room. Finally, I hear him calling my name and I spot him on the other side of the fountain.
I go over to join him. “This place is awesome. You should’ve seen the women’s bathroom.” Then I laugh. “Well, maybe not.”
“Come on,” he tells me. “I have a surprise.” Then he leads me to the elevator where we ride up to the seventeenth floor.
“Where are we going?” I ask, feeling a little nervous.
“You’ll see.”
We walk down a wide hallway that’s lined with pieces of ornate antique furniture that are either topped with beautiful lamps or flower arrangements. Then Justin stops in front of room 1733 and slips in a key card and opens the door.
“Presto!” he says as he swings the door open. He flips on a light switch to reveal a room that’s every bit as elegant as the rest of this place.
“But why?” I ask as I slowly walk into the room, realization sinking in as the big bed comes into view.
He grins as he closes the door then pulls me toward him. “So we can be alone.” He leans in to kiss me.
I kiss him back, but I’m thinking, Hey, wait a minute. “You should’ve told me you were planning this,” I say, trying to keep my voice even.
“Hey, just relax, Zoë,” he says as he sets his backpack on the table by the window. Then he pulls open the drapes to reveal the city lights stretched out below us.
Torch Red: Color Me Torn with Bonus Content Page 14
