“Why? Please tell me you’re over him by now.”
I shove my laptop aside, grimacing. “Yes, I’m over him. But some scabs don’t need to be ripped off. If Hannah and Lisa discover we used to go out, they’ll start prying and maybe figure out that I’m the person...” I take a deep breath. “I don’t want to deal with it. I’ve been lucky so far.”
April sucks on her lip. “Okay. I promise.”
“Just like that? What do you want?”
She tosses her hair and clasps her hand over her heart. “Must you always be so cynical? I’m your sister. We’re family. Family unites against enemies, be they named Nikki or Jared. Besides, I owe you. You’re really taking a hit for the team this summer. Dyeing your hair, pissing Dad off by getting a job—I figure I’m banking the parental approval points in comparison. I’ll be able to get away with anything soon.”
“You’ve always been able to get away with anything.”
April rolls her eyes. “Please. You used to be the favorite before Jared.”
“Was not.”
“Was to.”
“Claire, where are you?” Hannah’s yelling from the foot of the stairs. “April? Dinner!”
“Coming!” we yell in unison.
April reaches for the door. “If we were nice, we’d warn Hannah what she’s getting into if she flirts with Jared.”
I shake my head. “Hannah’s heard his songs. She should know how he treats girls. And anyway, it’s not like she’d listen. Not when Oh-my-God-Jared-Steele is showing her attention.”
April seems satisfied with that, and so am I. Or so I tell myself. My role in life shouldn’t be to expose my own sordid past to protect others.
Nope, I’ll keep my lips sealed and be ready to help Hannah pick up the pieces when she discovers what a jerk Jared is on her own. Experience is the best teacher, after all, and I won’t have to waste any more of my life thinking about Jared.
Chapter Seven
My big plans for a day off include reading and staring at the ocean in the morning, then breaking out my guitar in the afternoon. Lisa, Hannah, April and I stake out a good spot far away from my aunt and uncle, and I proceed with being unsociable. But then, so does everybody else. Lisa’s stuck her iPod on and pages through a magazine, Hannah’s sleeping and April’s texting. I’m not sure why people go to the beach in groups only to ignore each other, but it works for me.
I settle in with my book—a medieval mystery I borrowed from my aunt. The main character is a nun, and although I’m not religious, there’s something appealing about the idea of cloistering myself away from boys behind convent walls.
Sleep begins to overtake me when feet pound the sand near my head. Hannah yells something. Groggily, I open my eyes and roll on my stomach to see what’s causing the commotion.
I should have known: boys.
Yup, that convent is awfully appealing right now.
Jared and Mike head our way, which is so not fair because no one warned me they were coming. I check the time. We’ve only been out here for an hour. I consider going home early, but if I do that, I’ll have let Jared chase me away. And I’ve made up my mind—he’s not going to make me run off. This is my family. He’s the outsider, damn it.
Mike drops a towel on the other side of Lisa. “Hey, Claire. Zach said to say hi. He’s in class today.”
I’m rather shocked Zach remembered me. “Oh, cool. Sucks for him.”
Jared has his sunglasses on but I can tell from the set of his mouth that he’s glowering at me beneath them. Do I acknowledge him or not? Will he say something if I don’t?
Hannah spares me the turmoil of indecision by introducing me and April. My sister upholds her promise and pretends not to hear Hannah. I’d like to hug her.
I throw Jared my most sarcastic smile. Behind him, Mike watches me and he shakes his head almost imperceptibly as he lays out his towel. I’m not sure if anyone else sees the gesture, but I get it. Mike knows.
For a second I hold my breath, feeling my stomach sink. My plan for keeping the past in the past has been dashed before I could even get my hopes up. But the second passes. Mike keeps quiet. Slowly, I exhale and try to decipher this new twist. What did Jared tell him?
Speaking of Jared, his voice knocks me from my thoughts. “You’re cousins?” He points between me and Hannah, and the way he says it makes it sound almost dirty, as if he just said “You’re diseased?”
I answer him in the same manner. “Yes.”
He hesitates. Unfortunately, my presence must not be enough to dissuade him from staying because he sets his towel down as far from me as possible.
No one else seems to notice that the temperature on the beach has dropped about twenty degrees thanks to our icy glares. April’s put in earbuds, Lisa and Mike are talking, and Hannah’s too busy parading around in her bathing suit. Come on, Hannah, I want to yell. Just because he’s some famous musician doesn’t mean he’s not human. He still gets bad breath and thinks fart jokes are funny.
I wish I’d thought to bring my iPod so I could drown out their conversation. Instead, I do the next best thing—wander away. I won’t leave the beach, just their company.
I walk on until the waves caress my ankles, but the water is freezing in spite of the heat on my back. I take my time on my stroll, digging my toes into the wet sand and relishing how it oozes between them as I study the shoreline. The way the rocks jut out into the water and the gulls circle overhead in a crystal-blue sky is beautiful, calming and perfect, and just what I was hoping for when I learned we were coming here. Part of me thinks I could watch this sort of scene every day.
But then I think of winter—of angry, churning water and heavy, gray sky; of snow falling on the waves, and bitter, wet winds—and it depresses me. Maybe I’m only fascinated by the ocean because I don’t normally see its ugly side.
And perhaps that’s why Hannah and the fan girls are fascinated by Jared. Because they don’t see his ugly side. They haven’t experienced the peanut breath or his temper, and they don’t know that his old pickup doubled as a trash can.
I check in my family’s direction, wondering if it’s safe to return. Only Lisa and April sit on their towels. Everyone else is gone, and Jared’s T-shirt rests in a rumpled heap. Determined not to look for him, my gaze nonetheless drifts toward the water and I find him and Hannah standing in the waves together.
A jolt of anger runs through me most unexpectedly. Traitors, I think, even though I know it’s irrational. So what if they’re having fun? Jared owes me nothing except an apology, and Hannah is clueless about our past, which was my choice.
Still, I can’t shake the feeling that this is all very wrong.
I spin around, take two steps without looking where I’m going, and crash into someone. “Sorry,” I mumble, getting a whiff of Nikki’s perfume.
She tosses blond hair out of her face. Her salon-tanned skin shines with whatever oil she’s put on it, and she’s all angles in her bikini, tall and whip thin.
“Oh, sorry, Claire.” She laughs. “I should be paying more attention. I was just trying to catch up to your father.”
I check over my shoulder, and sure enough, my dad is wading into the water. I thought he and Nikki were supposed to be working, not frolicking on the beach. How naive of me.
Nikki notices where I’m glancing and giggles, nervously this time. “You probably think I’m crazy but he looks really good for his age, doesn’t he?”
Ew. Yeah, objectively, I’m sure my dad doesn’t look bad compared to many of the guys his age wandering around. As vain as he is, he hits the gym regularly. But like I’m going to do a comparison? Or worse—encourage Nikki?
“He exercises a lot,” I say, picking at a callus. “The doctor told him it’s good for his blood pressure. You know, when you get to be his age you
can have all kinds of health issues with heart disease and cholesterol and....” I will not say “impotence” even though that’s exactly what I’m dying to work in. “You can seem perfectly okay on the outside but be rotting on the inside.”
“Oh, Claire.” She play slaps me on the shoulder. “He’s not that old. I’m sure it seems that way to you, but he doesn’t have a foot in the grave yet.”
“My mom died at forty-four.”
Nikki’s smile falters. “I know, and I’m sorry. That’s way too young.”
“And way too recent.” I can’t help myself, nor keep the knife edge out of my voice, so I hurry away before I can see Nikki’s expression. So much for dropping subtle hints. I might as well have ended that conversation by yelling at her to stay away from my dad. But I’d be wasting my breath, and I know it. If my dad doesn’t have the decency to stay away himself, why should I expect any better of Nikki?
Sighing, I pick up my book. Lisa’s gone, leaving me with my napping sister.
I try to read, but every couple paragraphs I’m distracted because I hear Hannah laughing. Jared’s wet skin glistens in the garish sun, and it occurs to me that my dad’s not the only guy hitting the gym these days. Jared’s shoulders are a little wider than they used to be. Oh, the price of fame—he must feel pressured to work out. Poor Jared. His idols didn’t suffer this way. Bruce Springsteen didn’t go to the gym, did he? Or Eric Clapton? They were talented enough that they didn’t need a six pack to get air play.
I smirk into my book, then realize I haven’t comprehended a single word in the entire last chapter. I flip back to reread the last few pages, but it’s for nothing. My best attempts at ignoring Jared are ruined a few minutes later when he returns to grab a sip of water.
“How are you?” He mumbles the words, as though he only asks because he feels obligated, and it takes me a second to get that he’s speaking to me.
“Fine.” My grip on the book tightens and I crease the spine.
“So is that your dad’s new girlfriend or your stepmom over there?”
“It’s his secretary.” My jaw clenches. “He’s working from here most days.”
Surprise morphs into some new emotion as Jared watches my dad and Nikki. Whatever it is, he represses it well because I should be able to read him and I can’t. Anger because he hates my dad? Or a malicious amusement at my expense? Maybe it’s both and that why I’m having a hard time sorting through it.
Humiliation urges me to goad Jared into a fight, and suddenly I’m furious at my dad for being so stupid and at Jared for seeing what’s become of my family.
He clears his throat, not quite looking at me. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
Are you really? I want to ask. Because you hated my parents. But Jared hurries away before I can speak or make sense of our interaction.
Just as well. My cheeks burn and I slam my book shut. Jared must say something to my cousins because I see their heads all swivel toward my dad.
That’s it. I can’t take it anymore, so I shove my book in my bag and shake out my towel. I wasn’t going to let Jared chase me away, but I need to get far from here before I scream.
Halfway across the beach, I turn. Now that I’ve left, Jared and the others have gone back to their towels. In fact, Hannah’s spread out on hers in a way that’s so contrived I don’t know how Jared keeps a straight face. If I’d ever done something like that when we were together, he’d have asked me if I were auditioning for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue.
I kick the sand, and anger propels my feet home.
I keep telling myself I shouldn’t care what Jared thinks about my family. He never liked my parents, and he obviously never knew me the way I thought he did. But it pisses me off nonetheless because he should have known me better. He should have known I didn’t break up with him for shallow reasons. What’s worse is I don’t know why I care. If Jared’s become so corrupted by his own success that he believes Hannah’s flirting with him because she likes him the person, not him the rock star, then I’m the one who should be laughing. And if Jared does know, and doesn’t care, then I should be turning my nose up at his shallowness.
When I get back to the attic bedroom, I change and check my phone: two messages.
The first is from Nate, replying to the band about the message I sent yesterday. He’s in. Good.
The second text surprises me. It’s from Zach: Hey, you want to get together sometime?
I stare at it for a few seconds. It’s a good question.
I didn’t exactly spark with Zach on Saturday, but running into Jared again is making me be more realistic about this sort of thing. Sparks can lead to burns. Jared taught me that. If I want a new relationship, or even that summer fling, eventually I’m going to have to suck it up and do some work.
Yet my fingers hesitate to type a reply. Am I only considering saying yes because Jared’s here? Or because I want to prove something to myself? Either way that doesn’t seem fair to Zach. Then again, maybe not giving Zach a chance is what’s not fair. Have I given anyone a chance since Jared?
That would probably be a big old negative.
I toss the phone aside. I’ll figure it out later. Jayna calls to me, and I pull her from her case. The weight of her on my thigh is comforting. I can’t help but think there’s a song in this whole running-into-Jared disaster. I also can’t help but think I should get to exploit Jared the way he exploited me. So why haven’t the lyrics or melody come to me yet?
I let my thumb slide down the strings, focusing on the sound of each, waiting to see if something springs to mind besides the fact that my guitar needs tuning. Nothing. Figures. Some days I feel like I’m never going to write anything worth listening to.
I adjust the tuning, then play a few chords. The temperature fluctuations in this state do crazy things to the strings. Not satisfied, I make a few more adjustments, loosening the strings then tuning up again. I curse the B string that doesn’t want to stay where I put it.
Finally, I’m satisfied. My thumb plucks each string carelessly, randomly, but the sound makes me think of the ocean. There’s a mysterious, watery vibe to the rhythm that reminds me of waves crashing onto barren rocks. Biting my lip, I attempt to recreate the phrase, taking it deeper, sadder, colder. It’s a current that drags me downward.
And within that sound, a word emerges: forsaken. I play it again. And hear it again.
And again.
My thoughts swirl, patterns and words slowly mixing, occasionally colliding and forming lyrics and phrases that don’t sound too horrible.
I don’t like that word though. It speaks of things I’d rather remained silent.
Annoyed, I choose something upbeat to play, but the word and the tune don’t fade.
Chapter Eight
I step outside Milk and Honey and feel as though I’ve collided with a wall of air. All day, customers complained about the heat and humidity, but I’d been in the store’s AC since ten this morning. Although it was hard going back to work after two days off, I’m starting to think I preferred being cooped up inside.
By the time I walk through the beach house’s front door, I’m covered in sweat. The house is quiet except for the overhead fans, which aren’t doing much. I grab a soda out of the fridge and roll it around on my forehead as my aunt comes in from the deck.
“Oh, good. You’re home. We were thinking of going out to dinner so we can be some place that’s cool. Want to come?”
I take the can off my head, pondering. If everyone else is going out, why wouldn’t I want to come? I must be missing something. “Is everybody going?”
“It would be me and George, and your father and Nikki. The others left to go see a movie and grab something on their own.”
Condensation from the can drips down my wrist, but I don’t move to wipe it away. They
left without me?
I feel forsaken,
And my heart is breaking
I crack open the can and take a long drink, trying to ignore the melancholy lyrics stuck in my head. “When did they leave?”
My first thought is that maybe I can catch up to them. But then I have to stop myself. I mean, if they didn’t have the decency to call me or wait for me, then why should I want to hang out with them? Just to be sure, I check my phone, but no one’s left me a message.
“They must have left half an hour ago?” My aunt looks apologetic, ashamed of her daughters’ bad manners. As she should be. “If you want to go, why don’t you give them a call?”
“Yeah, maybe I will. You guys can go to dinner without me. I’m tired.”
“Maybe that was why,” my aunt says. “They thought you’d be too tired.”
Uh-huh. Whatever it takes for her to convince herself that she didn’t raise two rude daughters. I expected better of Lisa at least.
Nikki’s in the living room, lacing up her sandals with the three-inch heels. “They didn’t think you’d want to see the movie. That’s what April said.” She regards me curiously, and I can’t help but think that underneath all her makeup, she’s got a plain face.
Or maybe I’m feeling spiteful because I’m angry that she knows I’ve been ditched. “April said that?” And here I thought we’d been getting along.
“She said to tell you she’s sorry, but Jared said you didn’t like sci-fi so she didn’t think you’d mind.” Nikki laughs. “Something like that. I was having a minor heart attack because Jared Steele was here. I can’t believe I didn’t know that your family knows him.”
My mind reels. “Wait. Jared was here?”
“Yeah, he came over with one of your cousin’s friends.”
I take a deep breath. “So Jared’s the one who told the others not to wait for me?”
Jared orchestrated this. It all makes sense now.
Another Little Piece of My Heart Page 7
