Out with the In Crowd

by Stephanie Morrill

  With the car idling in my driveway, Connor leaned across the console to kiss me good-bye. I pecked him on the lips, but he caught my arm before I unfastened my seat belt.

  “Come on, that was horrible.” He hovered nearby. I glanced in the backseat, where Chris brooded alone now that Abbie had shot out of the car. Connor laughed. “He’s seen us kiss before.”

  He pulled me close for an admittedly much better kiss, then tousled my hair. “Scram, girl.”

  I laughed as I slipped out of the car. How’d he do that? In a matter of seconds, he could snap me from cranky to delighted.

  “This sucks,” Abbie said as Connor backed out of the driveway. “I thought spending a couple weeks apart from each other would make all this easier.”

  “Since when does time apart make anything easier?”

  She rubbed her swollen stomach like she often did these days when fretting. “You should see Chris and Lance around each other. They both try helping me, and it turns into this weird competition. And you know how I feel about Chris, but it doesn’t change that Lance is the father. He deserves to help if he wants.” She sighed. She’d been doing a lot of that recently too. “I just don’t know what the right thing is to do.”

  A big sister should have advice for her little sister. I longed to say something poignant to Abbie, something soothing.

  I fumbled my key into the lock. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  I cringed at my words. Almost anything would’ve been better than that careless statement. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, I don’t know what you should do either, but I’m sure you’re handling it fine.”

  Abbie’s gaze rested on my face, the lids of her cinnamon eyes heavy with fatigue. “Am I?”

  I nodded. “Don’t worry about the guys. That’ll solve itself in time.” I gestured to her belly. “Focus on what you want to do with this little guy or gal.”

  “Just four more days and we’ll know.”

  “Hopefully,” I said. Why did I always have to do that, throw in that negative spin?

  “Yeah.” Abbie looked at her stomach. “Hopefully.”

  “I’m sure the baby will cooperate this time.”

  On Friday, Abbie would have a sonogram that we hoped would reveal the gender of the baby. During her previous one, he or she had been sleeping and had no interest in moving. I’d kidded Abbie about the baby clearly being hers—stubborn. She’d burst into tears, and I felt like a horrible sister.

  “If not, I guess you’ll just be a surprise.” Abbie gave her stomach a tender pat, and I wondered for the thousandth time if Abbie intended to keep the baby. Her official position was “undecided,” but more and more she acted attached. And why shouldn’t she be, especially now that the baby moved so much?

  When I popped open the door, the scent of chocolate chip cookies greeted us.

  “Man, that smells good.” Abbie tossed her backpack to the foot of the staircase. “Did the guys accidentally drop us off at their house?”

  “I heard that!” Mom called from the kitchen. “You really think Amy Ross is the only one who knows how to whip up a batch of cookies?”

  “This I have to see for myself,” I whispered to Abbie.

  She grinned, and we traveled the short hallway to the kitchen. There we saw a spectacular sight—our mom sporting an apron and mitts as she pulled a sheet of cookies from the oven. A Viking, to be more specific. She insisted on buying it last fall, even though she never cooked anything more complicated than Stouffer’s lasagna. But Mom always had a thing for owning the best of the best, necessary or not.

  “You’re making cookies,” I said.

  “You’re making cookies,”

  Mom beamed. “Yep.”

  “From scratch?” Abbie asked.

  “Refrigerated cookie dough. It’s still effort.”

  “It’s great, Mom.” I snatched a cooling cookie and took a bite. “They taste great.”

  And they did. That’s not to say Amy Ross’s didn’t taste better, but I’d happily eat these forever if it meant having Mom at home.

  Not too long ago, we often came home from school to find Mom either closed inside her room napping or absorbed in furniture catalogs as she planned elaborate redecorating. In October, when Abbie broke the news of her pregnancy, Mom left. We didn’t hear from her for a month, and Abbie and I had both lost hope of Mom ever returning. But Dad kept calling her, kept leaving messages on her cell, until she randomly showed up at our weekly family counseling session.

  Things between Mom and Dad still weren’t great—Dad spent his nights in the guest bedroom, and dinner conversation often felt forced—but at least there was hope.

  Mom rested a hand on Abbie’s shoulder. “How you feeling, honey?”

  “Like I need a glass of milk.” She shuffled past Mom to the refrigerator.

  Mom gave me a quizzical look, but I shrugged. We’d all noticed how Abbie dodged pregnancy questions, but I didn’t think we should push her yet. She’d be forced to deal with reality soon enough. March 10, if we could trust the due date.

  Mom transferred the cookies to wire baking racks for cooling. “Your father called. They won a large bid today, and we thought we’d all go out tonight and celebrate. That okay with you girls, or do you have too much homework?”

  Abbie dipped her cookie into the milk. “I’m never too busy for celebrating.”

  Mom glanced at me but looked away before asking, “Do you think Connor would want to come?”

  “He’s busy tonight, but thanks.”

  Okay, so that wasn’t exactly true, but I dreaded being in the same room with my mom and Connor. She loved him, but she didn’t like the idea of me dating anyone.

  The house rule had always been no dating until we left for college, though it wasn’t a rule Abbie and I ever followed—I’d dated Eli on the sly, and Abbie, well, she’d had her share of boyfriends. Connor and I happened around the time Mom pulled her disappearing act. When she moved back into the house, she tried breaking us up, but Dad overruled her, a first in my memory. Things were just plain awkward whenever Connor came over, so I mostly hung out at the Rosses’.

  When we’d finished our cookies, Abbie and I headed upstairs, me to complete what little homework I had, and she to nap. I’d just cracked open Wuthering Heights when Abbie entered through our bathroom, already dressed in her pj’s.

  “You should ask Connor to come tonight. Mom needs to get used to the idea of you dating.”

  I looked at her. “You should figure out what to do about the baby.”

  Abbie’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that.”

  “Sorry. I thought this was one of those things where we give each other advice we don’t want to hear.” I turned back to my book. “This thing with Connor and Mom is none of your business.”

  “Don’t you want them to get used to each other?”

  “What does it matter? It’s not like it’ll be an issue much longer.”

  Abbie’s eyes went wide, and she sank to my bed. “You think Mom’s going to leave again?”

  “No!” My voice came out high and squeaky. I steadied it. “No, I meant that I’ll be starting college. Mom’s not going anywhere.”

  Abbie still looked unsure. “You don’t think so?”

  I shook my head. “Abbie, she’s downstairs baking. Dad comes home for dinner now. Life’s back on track. It’s good.”

  “Maybe too good.”

  Her words touched a nerve. I’d had the same thought at the first whiff of those chocolate chip cookies. Life was unsettlingly good.

  “I think it’s too good to last,” Abbie said.

  “You’re being paranoid,” I told her—and myself. “They hit a rough patch, but Mom and Dad love each other. They’re working through it.”

  She pushed herself off the bed. “I hope you’re right.”

  With that, she left my room. And left me nervous.

  3

  “You know, this used to be much cheaper for me,” Connor said
as he handed the cashier a ten-dollar bill.

  “I offered to pay.”

  Connor became serious. “Never. When we’re out, I pay for you.”

  “But I don’t mind—”

  “I mind. I don’t know how it was with Eli, but I don’t believe in letting girls pay.”

  An employee appeared at the window with our ice cream. “Caramel pretzel crunch.” She smiled as she held out Connor’s turtle sundae. “I wondered if I was making this for you.”

  Connor accepted his ice cream with a grin. “Thanks, Rachel.”

  The girl—Rachel, apparently—gave me a sheepish smile and disappeared from the window. She was cute, in a sweet and simple kind of way. I hated the jealous tickle in my chest, something I’d never experienced much before Connor. Of course, I’d never been in love before.

  “I don’t know how it was with Jodi either, but no flirting with other girls.”

  Connor fit his arm around my waist. “Boy, you’re strict.”

  “So.” I eyed Abbie and Chris perched on a concrete bench. They must’ve given up on making conversation, because they sat there as stony as their seat. “Do we join them?”

  “Nah. They need some time alone.” Connor guided me to the remaining bench. “Today’s a hard day for Chris.”

  I shot him a sharp look. “It’s hard for Abbie too.”

  “I’m not saying it isn’t,” Connor said, his voice careful. “But today the baby became more real to Chris. To Abbie, the baby’s been real for a while.”

  I checked my cell phone for missed calls. None. “I still can’t believe Mom and Dad missed the sonogram. That’s so weird.”

  “You’re sure they knew the time?”

  “We talked about it at dinner last night.” I held down the speed dial number for Dad’s cell. “We told them the appointment was at 3:45, so you’d be taking us. Mom said to Dad, ‘Don’t you have a meeting at 3:30?’ Dad said, ‘No, I moved it for counseling,’ and Mom said, ‘Oh, I forgot about counseling.’ So they decided to cut their session a few minutes short so they could make it on time.”

  Once again Dad’s voice mail kicked in. I hung up before he could invite me to leave a message. I’d already left two.

  “Voice mail again?” Connor asked.

  I nodded. “I don’t understand.”

  The back of my neck prickled with fear, or maybe just cold. Who ate ice cream when it was forty degrees outside, anyway? I pulled my jacket tight around me.

  Connor’s fingertips pressed into the back of my neck, warm from hot fudge. “I’m sure everything’s fine.”

  I heard Abbie’s voice in my head. I think it’s too good to last. Those words had haunted me all week long, during family dinners full of elaborate foods our table had never seen—roasts, Cornish hens, salads with ingredients like feta and arugula. It did seem too good to last. It reminded me of other projects around the house that Mom dove into with enthusiasm—sewing curtains for the guest bedroom, an organic vegetable garden—only to abandon them shortly after starting. Was our family doomed to be one more discarded hobby?

  “Why wasn’t Lance there today?” Connor’s voice sounded tight, like it often did when we discussed Lance. “You’d think he’d care.”

  “He does.” I forced myself to take a bite of ice cream. Connor had bought it for me, after all. “His mom wouldn’t let him come.”

  Connor’s eyes widened. “Wouldn’t let him?”

  “They don’t want him involved unless Abbie decides to keep the baby.”

  “How about teaching him to be responsible for his actions? Abbie has to deal with it regardless of what she does with the baby; shouldn’t Lance?”

  “I agree completely. Believe me, I wanted to call Mrs. Hartfield and say those exact things.”

  Hartfield “But?”

  “Abbie wants to handle it herself.”

  Connor absently tugged at his collar. “That’s fine, but she can’t let herself get pushed around by this family. All I’m saying is . . .”

  But I didn’t catch the rest. My eyes caught on a familiar black Land Rover rolling into the parking lot. While not an unusual car to see around this part of town, the flashes of blond hair in the driver and passenger seats confirmed my fears—Eli and Jodi.

  I used to log all my time at Sheridan’s Frozen Custard with Eli, Jodi, and the rest of our friends. All last summer we’d haunted this place, lounging on the grassy hill or secluding ourselves in the bed of John’s truck.

  “You’re not listening to a word I’m saying.” Connor sounded amused.

  I nodded toward Eli and Jodi emerging from the car. “We’ve got company.”

  He glanced their direction. “Super,” he said in a flat voice. “Although I have to admit, the week went better than I expected.”

  I thought of Jodi’s frigid glare whenever our paths crossed. “I don’t know.”

  “You gotta admit, it could’ve been worse. At least there wasn’t any pig’s blood.”

  My confusion must have been evident on my face.

  “Like in Carrie,” Connor said. I shook my head. “You’ve never seen Carrie? We have to watch it. How about—”

  “Don’t do it.” Jodi loomed over us, wearing a sticky smile, the kind I assumed originated in the garden with the serpent. She helped herself to the empty spot on the other side of my boyfriend. “Really, Connor, do you subject all your girlfriends to that movie? Is it like a hazing of sorts?”

  Connor smiled, a nice one, not a fake one. Connor didn’t have a fake smile. “You liked it and you know it.”

  I’d had enough of this trip down memory lane. “You’re not having ice cream?”

  Jodi shook her head. “Coffee. Eli’s getting it for me.” She stole one of Connor’s maraschino cherries. “We’re celebrating our last first week of high school. You guys too?”

  Connor didn’t seem to mind her thievery, just kept eating. “More like the thermometer finally cracking forty degrees.”

  Did he have to be so chatty with her? Talk about obnoxious. Had he forgotten what she’d done to me?

  “You don’t mind if we sit with you, right?” Jodi said. “I can’t figure out why this place doesn’t put in tables or something. Eli says they just don’t want to encourage loitering, but we all hang out anyway, you know? Why not make it easier on us?”

  Eli appeared, holding two steaming cups of something. “Here you go, babe.”

  Jodi looked up at him, her smile turning real. “You don’t mind sitting with our exes, right?” She blew on her coffee and winked at Connor and me. “I figure we’ve all moved on, there’s no reason why we can’t hang out.”

  On the contrary, I could think of plenty of reasons, but I scooted to make room for Eli anyway.

  Jodi cuddled against Eli. “We’re partying at Alexis’s tonight, if you guys wanna come.”

  “No thanks,” I rushed to respond. With Connor’s chumminess, he’d probably accept. He’d never had a drink in his life, but he believed in accepting people wherever, keggers included.

  Eli nudged Jodi with his elbow. “Skylar doesn’t party anymore, remember?”

  “Silly me.” Another toothy smile. “How could I have forgotten?”

  Was she making fun of me? Jodi probably thought herself considerate doing so to my face. I’d rather she save her uglies for behind my back.

  “Connor, Skylar, you guys ready?” Abbie called as she and Chris stood.

  I bounced up. “Yep.” I’d never loved my sister more.

  “You look adorable, Abbie,” Jodi said. “Really. I love that shirt.”

  Abbie smiled without revealing any teeth. “Thanks. My sister made it for me.” She turned and ambled to the car, Chris beside her.

  “See you guys on Monday,” I said.

  Jodi sipped at her coffee. “Come by Lexi’s if you change your mind.”

  “I won’t,” I said, my voice flat.

  Connor had to jog to catch up with me. “Do you have to act like that?”

 
“Like what?” I pitched my empty cup in the trash.

  “Like you’re better than them.”

  I winced. How easy it had been to slip back into it, treating others like they were beneath me. That feeling of superiority had the same cozy, comfy fit as my old Earl jeans. These new attitudes I was supposed to adopt as a Christian—humility, trust, joy—felt more like itchy wool tights.

  But still. It irked me how friendly Jodi had been after a week of snubbing me. And how Connor let her get away with it.

  “How should I have acted?” I asked. “Like you? Like everything was peachy?”

  “Is this about her and Eli getting back together?” he asked, despite us rejoining Abbie and Chris at the car.

  Concepts like putting on a smile and pretending things were fine—a way of life in the Hoyt household—were foreign to Connor. He didn’t put on airs. He was the same at school and church, with our pastor and with his baseball team. I envied this, but right then, it annoyed me.

  “You’ve been weird ever since Lisa called you about them getting back together,” Connor said.

  I felt my face flame, although with my Hawaiian heritage, only I knew Connor’s words embarrassed me. “Are you implying I’m jealous?”

  Abbie leapt to my defense, winning points with me yet again. “Skylar’s not really the jealous type.”

  Connor looked from Abbie to me, amusement shining in his eyes. “I’ve seen it firsthand.”

  I chose to ignore the jealousy subject altogether. It didn’t even deserve a response. “It’s dangerous to be too friendly with Jodi.”

  Connor opened my door for me, as did Chris for Abbie. “Dangerous how?”

  “It just is.” I thought of Eli but didn’t know how to explain. “You think she’s just being friendly, but she’s not. She’s after you.”

  “Why? We’ve already dated.”

  Like I needed the reminder.

  “I didn’t say it was about getting you. It’s about getting to me.”

  “You’re being a little egotistical, Skylar.”

  Maybe so, but I didn’t want to go through being cheated on ever again. I didn’t want Jodi taking Connor away too. “Enough fighting.” Chris slammed Abbie’s door, displaying a rare burst of impatience. “Let’s just get out of here.”