Oh, awesome. Marissa’s turned around and her date moved in, wrapping himself around her so he’s way too close to her butt. Her body moves with the music in pleasure. Wow. She’s putting on a good show. But that’s just it—it’s a show. I know that smile. It’s the same one she’d use when we’d leave her house whenever both parents were home. This isn’t fun for her at all.
Free from staring at her date’s face, she scans the dance floor for someone. Then I feel it, the pressure of her eyes landing on my own. She stops dancing, straightening up for a second, and then nods to me. Her smile disappears as she holds her gaze.
What’s happening to you? I ask with my eyes.
Hers are blank.
My insides squirm. I want to pull her away from that creep, take her home, and talk. But about what?
How she cheated with my boyfriend?
Used me?
Bullied me through the disguise of a friend? This doesn’t make sense. I should never want to speak with her again.
Marissa pushes her butt back into that guy with a grin as the DJ announces it’s time for dinner to start. Translation: observers, get out.
I scan the dancers, looking for Jen and Justin. A soft flash of pink catches my eye. She’s speaking with some of her cheerleading friends. Justin’s not there though. Maybe he’s getting their table?
A black head of hair near the escalator makes my heart jolt. But it’s not Justin, just the same head of hair. His dad stands with his back turned to Christy and Tonya. He’s tapping away on his iPad, oblivious to Justin’s mom asking him a question. He’s in his own world. Well, not totally, it seems he now lives in the same tech-realm as Marissa’s dad.
A security guard comes up to the rope. “I know it looks fun, but it’s time to go home,” she says, ushering me away like I’m part of all the underclassmen here who came to dream. I glance back one last time for Justin’s black hair. Nothing. I sigh, moving out the door with the younger students and parents.
As I’m stepping into the skyway to avoid the frigid December weather below, I hear my name called. I whip around to the most gorgeous sight—Justin running toward me. He pulls me close, kissing my forehead. “I know I’m here with Jen tonight,” he brushes the bangs out of my eyes, “but I want you to know how much I wish I was with you.”
As his words hit me, my eyes sting. It’s not like I hadn’t imagined going to the winter formal since I first heard of it freshman year. Or having a romantic date with Justin where I could wow him with what I wore.
I hug him, holding everything back.
This is for Jennifer. I can be strong for her.
“You look more gorgeous right now in your black pants, snow boots, and sweater, than any girl on that dance floor.” He pulls me up, his lips finding mine. “Can I see you tonight? I’ll sneak away from the hotel for a bit.”
I nod, knowing if I speak that I’m going to lose it. How does he always know the right thing to say?
“All right. I’ll text you.” He leans in again, kissing my head. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Later?”
“Yup.”
He waves as he weaves his way back toward the formal. I take a deep breath, reviewing basketball plays as I make it back to Dad’s car. As I turn on the ignition, the tears begin to fall. Get a grip. This is not a big deal. Jennifer needed Justin tonight. This is the right thing to do. I’m Jen’s friend. Would Marissa have ever done something like that for me?
No.
I smile, wiping away the tears from my cheek. No, she wouldn’t have. Which means I escaped becoming Marissa. I know how to be a good friend.
At least there’s that.
***
I white-knuckle the steering wheel as I strain to see through the blowing snow. I’m not a bad driver, but driving in a snowstorm freaks me out. It doesn’t matter that I’m only crawling along at twenty miles an hour with all the other cars. With the sun gone, it feels like eighty when driving in near white out. The intensity of this storm came out of nowhere.
I’m a fool for not taking Dad up on his offer to drive me downtown. There’s no way they would’ve let me drive if they knew the storm was going to be this bad. The weatherman said a few inches. My ass.
The car in the far left lane swerves a bit. My heart leaps in my throat, choking me for a moment. Thankfully, the middle lane between us is empty as its rear floats over where the line should be. The car takes a moment to regain its traction, pushing forward back into its lane. I let out a breath of relief, keeping the car rolling along. If I stop on this unplowed highway, I’ll never get moving again.
Suddenly, a red SUV flies by on my left side. Are you kidding me? Just because you have four-wheel drive doesn’t mean you have superpowers. The SUV blows past a compact car way out in front of me. I’m smart enough to not follow too close in this weather. But the speed of the SUV clearly freaks the compact driver out so it slows, then it spins out, accelerating as it whips around between lanes.
I pump my brakes to the thrumming beat in my head as I close in. Too close. There’s no way I’m not going to slam him, so I swerve right and let go. Suddenly, I’m turning slowly. I glance at the man in the compact whose face is pale. Slow crashing is torture. Please ice, take me away from him and keep me on the road.
I miss the compact’s side mirror by a few inches. I let my breath out and brace before plunging into the shallow ditch. My head bangs against the seat, but that’s it. Okay, I grasp the steering wheel, waiting for the next hit. I give it a full minute before I’m brave enough to glance back. Nothing. No one’s angling my direction. I’m out of the crash zone. Thank God. The blue car that stayed a good distance behind me rolls past. My heart relaxes. No accident. No injuries.
My wheels spin the moment I throw the car in reverse. The ditch is shallow, but it’s at enough of an angle where there’s no way I can get out of here without someone else’s help. The cat litter and shovel in the trunk won’t even help. I grab the emergency blanket before climbing out, wrapping it around my shoulders. Why didn’t I wear a coat? Stupid skyways and their no-weather promises. I trudge deeper into the snow, away from the road and toward the sound wall. There’s no point in waiting for a tow truck. They’re probably already backed up. The coolness of the snow stings my legs as I trudge up the exit ramp.
I take a left and walk a few blocks before I spot our study date coffee shop. The bell rings as I open the door. A Christmas carol CD plays. Tom, the barista, knocks on the counter. “The usual? Black tea?”
“That’d be great. Thanks.”
I pull out my phone and speak to Dad while I wait. The storm has been upgraded to blizzard status. As long as I’m safe, he can’t risk driving Mom’s car with the way it slides over regular winter roads. He’ll look for another ride or, worst-case scenario, he’ll find a place for me to stay. Not the best situation, but I’ll survive.
I force a smile as I take the tea from Tom and my heart sinks. Looks like I probably won’t be seeing Justin after the dance tonight.
“What’s going on, Lucy?” Tom asks.
“I was downtown to take photos of friends for a school dance, but ended up in the ditch on my route home.”
“You okay?” His brow folds in.
“Yeah, it happened slowly. No big deal. Car should be fine too. I know you close soon, but is it okay if I hang out? My dad’s trying to figure out a way to get me home.”
“No problem. Grab a book. Your booth is available.”
Of course it is. Everyone else is smart enough to be home. The place is empty. I pull some dystopian novel off the shelf and curl up in the booth. Tom slides a muffin and scone in front of me. “On the house,” he says.
“Thank you.” Both blueberry. My favorite. He didn’t have to do this, but I really appreciate it. I could be here forever.
“Hey,” a familiar voice says. I glance up and Ian’s staring down at me. “What’s up?”
“I ended up in a ditch. So I though
t I’d come hang out.”
I pat the table for him to join me. He pulls a chair up to the end of the booth. Leaving Justin’s side open. Nice.
“Why are you still here in this storm?” I glance at the white curtain of snow beating the windows. “Did you drive in to play guitar this evening?”
“Nah, I played this morning but then Tom’s second barista called in sick. I fill in for him time to time, so I offered to help. Not much to do this weekend.”
“No homework?”
“Just turned in my post-secondary final essays yesterday. And I’ve got no high school homework. My mom always blocks off December from schoolwork.”
“Wow. A whole month?” What I wouldn’t do for a month break in the middle of the school year. That’s amazing!
“Yup. The holidays are really crazy around our house, so we do coursework in the summer. My dad grew up Jewish and my mom’s Christian. They never settled on what religion they wanted for me, so we celebrate all of it.”
“Nice.” I bet he scores major gifts.
He laughs. “If you’re thinking presents, you can stop. We only get one gift each year.”
“One?”
“Yup.” He shrugs. “Not a big deal. I buy myself everything I need anyway. With four brothers and three sisters, one gift is plenty.”
“Seven siblings?” I’m suddenly picturing the old lady who lived in a shoe.
“Yup.”
“Wow. Do you know all of their names?”
Ian laughs again. “Of course I do. Do you know your brother’s name?”
“Yeah, but that’s one brother.”
“If you had more, you’d remember them. Trust me.”
“Are you the oldest?”
“Second oldest.”
“How come I didn’t know this about you before? All the time we’ve hung out in the group, you’ve failed to mention your huge family. Do you not like them?”
“We get along great. I love my family.” He readjusts his glasses. “But I prefer to not be defined by them. We only moved here a year ago. It’s been nice having a group of friends who don’t think I’m a freak for having seven siblings.”
I drop my voice. “Is that why you homeschool?”
“Because of my freaky family fertility?” He laughs again and I like it. It’s relaxed and honest, like him. “I’ve always been homeschooled. Mom was an English teacher and Dad was a biologist when they started homeschooling my older sister. Now they both have PhD’s in research. Their hours can be wonky so traditional school schedules stand in the way of our family functioning. Plus,” he sighs, “they have a lot to offer education-wise that I couldn’t get from traditional school. The fieldwork assignments Dad has us do are amazing. And Mom has ins where we can research ancient texts that the public can’t see, rather than seeing a photo of them in a textbook.”
“Sounds surreal.”
“It is, but I do miss people. We were part of a homeschool co-op before we moved. Haven’t been able to connect with one here yet that holds a similar teaching philosophy. That’s why I was so thrilled when I met you guys.”
“So what do you do for fun?”
“Music. Read. Study politics.”
I laugh. “Well it’s perfect you are friends with Justin then.”
Now Ian chuckles. “I’m friends with Justin because he’s cool. I’ve worked enough of his dad’s events to know Justin isn’t there because he loves politics.”
“Yeah. He’s there because he loves his dad.”
“Exactly.”
I lean back in the booth. This isn’t that bad. Ian is easy to talk to, and I like how he interprets Justin. I have a sneaky suspicion most guys are more jealous of him than they let on. But with Ian? Not a trace.
“You want to play a game while we wait out the storm?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“Cards?”
“Sure, but I warn you I don’t come from a card-playing family. You’ll have to teach me.”
“No problem,” he says as he gets up to grab a deck of cards off the game shelf.
I study him as he walks away. He’s got broad shoulders. Not athletic broad, but still the type of shoulders that are hot. And he’s a good guy. I’ll have to set him up with someone. But, as he slides a board with holes in front of me and casually leans back to shuffle the cards, I don’t know if I should. He seems like the type to just ask a girl out if he wants to date them. I won’t push it.
“Okay, so cribbage is really a math game, but if you prefer something like solitaire we can play that.”
I groan. I’ve always hated solitaire. It’s mind-numbing and frustrating for me while everyone else loves it. But math? It’s ridiculous how soothing numbers are to my brain.
“Oh? No cribbage?” He pulls the board back.
“No, definitely cribbage. I can’t handle solitaire. Bores me to death.”
“Really? I thought most girls liked solitaire.”
“I’m not most girls.”
“So math, huh?”
“Yep.”
“All right then. I warn you though, I’m really good at cribbage.”
“Is that so? Well,” I lean in, “I’m really good at math. I bet I can keep up.”
We play cribbage for an hour before the snowfall starts to slow. We come out pretty even on wins/losses. Joe leaves, only having to walk down the road to his apartment, giving Ian the key. We stay another hour, playing every game on the shelf. Finally, the snowfall stops.
Then I receive the hundredth frustrated text from Dad.
Dad: Okay. I give up. No one can get you and this is only a brief lull in this blizzard. There’s a hotel six blocks down the road. Can you walk there? I’ll book you a room.
My heart tanks. Definitely no Justin tonight. I’m tempted to text him but he’s at the dance. I’m not going to take him away from Jen right now. This can wait.
“Did your dad find you a ride?”
“Nope.”
“How far out do you live?”
“Twenty-five minutes down the highway, but in this? A few days?”
“Hmm.” Ian takes out his phone. “One sec,” he says before moving away from the table. He shakes his head as he returns. “No luck with my family either. I’m going to sleep here since I have to open in the morning anyway.”
“Here? Where?”
“The floor. Or a booth?”
I sigh, grabbing my purse. “There’s a hotel up the street. My dad booked me a room. I’m sure they have others open, too.”
Ian hesitates a second and blushes. “I’ll walk you there, but I can’t stay.” He bends down to pick some muffin up off the floor. There’s a hole in the tip of his well-worn shoes. Oh my gosh. I’m such an entitled jerk. Why’d I assume he could afford a hotel? Heck, I couldn’t afford a room out of my own pocket right now.
“Ian, you’re staying at the hotel.”
“No, it’s okay.”
“You can share my room. No big deal. We’ll get two beds. I refuse to leave if you plan on sleeping on this floor.”
“I don’t know…”
I put my purse back down and spread the emergency blanket out on the tiled floor. “Fine. I’ll sleep here tonight.” I go to lie down, but Ian takes my arm, keeping me upright.
“All right, all right. I’ll stay with you.” He picks up the blanket and hands it to me, before holding open the door. The below zero air stings my cheeks. It’s going to be a long six blocks. “Wait, is Justin going to kill me?”
“Don’t worry about Justin. He’s staying in a suite with our group of friends at the dance tonight. He’ll be fine with it. Same situation. Friends.” Okay, so I had to clarify. This definitely makes me a bit nervous. I’ve never stayed in a hotel with anyone but my family. Ian isn’t exactly who I pictured when I imagined my first night alone with a guy.
“Absolutely. I understand.” He pulls the door closed, sliding in the key. “Thanks, Lucy. This is kind of awesome of you.”
“Don
’t worry about it. I’m glad I won’t be alone. I’d be bored to death. Did you bring the cards?”
“Got ‘em.”
“Then we’ll be good.”
“They better have TV,” he says as we bend forward to keep warm while we walk. “Ghosthunters is having a marathon tonight.”
“Seriously? Are you a bit of a nerd?”
“Totally.” Okay, a Ghosthunters marathon with Ian in a hotel room. Not how I pictured tonight when I was a freshman, but it definitely holds the promise of fun.
“How about I’ll watch some Ghosthunters, but only if you are willing to rotate it with the Blue Planet episodes on Discovery.”
“Blue Planet, huh?” He nudges me. “You’re a total nerd too.”
“Everyone’s got their thing. Whatever.”
Chapter Fourteen
Justin
“Ooh,” Laura says as she flips through her phone with an eyebrow raised. She pounces, landing on the couch in front of me, next to Luke. “Did you get a text from Lucy tonight?”
“Not yet.” I reach in my back pocket. Did I miss one? I’m sure I would have felt the buzz. No missed texts. Weird.
Laura rolls her lips in, holding in a smirk. “You may want to text her.”
“Is she okay?”
“Don’t worry about her. She’s in good hands.” Laura giggles, taking a Twizzler from our poker pile.
Good hands?
Me: Hey, Lady. I’ve been missing you. What’s up?
It doesn’t take long for the phone to vibrate in return.
Lucy: Oddly enough, I’m watching Ghosthunters with Ian in St. Paul.
Me: What? How’d that come up?
Lucy: Got stuck in a ditch near the coffee shop. Ian was there. We couldn’t get a ride home. My dad got us a motel room.
Lucy’s in a motel room with Ian?
“And, there it is.” Laura giggles.
“Is what?”
“That delicious jealous look.”
Me: Your dad got you both a hotel room, together?
Lucy: He doesn’t know Ian’s here. Couldn’t leave him sleeping on the coffee shop floor though.
Perfectly Messy Page 11
