Out with the In Crowd

by Stephanie Morrill

  And even if he knew beyond a doubt there was no way I’d find out, this was still Connor we were talking about. Connor who didn’t believe in dishonesty. Connor who prided himself on getting all the cards out on the table. On being the same in the dark as in the light.

  I decided I’d like to know just how long it would take him to fess up. I wouldn’t say a word of what Lisa told me. And if someone brought up the party, I might go so far as to pretend I’d forgotten it happened in the first place. Then, when Connor finally did tell me, I’d make him feel really guilty.

  The plan seemed genius. Until I saw him.

  He smiled when he saw me coming out of study hall. “Hey, good lookin’. Going my way?”

  Hey, good lookin’. Going my way?”

  I cringed when he put his arm around me.

  “I think we should go out tonight,” Connor said as we headed toward our horribly boring Health Sciences class. “It’s been forever since the two of us went out.”

  “You mean besides Sweetheart on Saturday?” My voice had a rasp to it, like it often got if I’d cried a lot. Connor didn’t seem to notice.

  “That doesn’t count. We were with Chris and Abbie.”

  “Well, I can’t.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I promised Abbie we’d hang out tonight.”

  Connor frowned. “You can’t hang out some other night?”

  “We need to get the baby’s room ready.”

  His frown deepened. “Can’t you do that tomorrow night?”

  I shook my head. “Abbie wants to get it done before this weekend.”

  “What’s this weekend?”

  “The winter retreat. Remember?”

  “Right.” He scratched the back of his head. “Well, I guess we’ll spend time together there. Nothing says romance like the entire youth group in rural Missouri.”

  “Like you care about romance.”

  Connor feigned outrage. “Excuse me, but I’m always romantic. You’re the one without a romantic bone in her body.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is. Especially recently. I’m always the one remembering our anniversary, coming up with Valentine’s arrangements—”

  I yanked away from him. “That’s enough. I’ve got a lot going on, okay? I’m struggling to make decent grades for the first time in my life. My sister’s about to have a baby. My mom keeps pushing me about coming to Hawaii with her. Does it sound like I have time for anything else right now?”

  He glanced at the other students streaming around us, then took my hands and squeezed them. “I don’t mean to be hard on you, Skylar. It’s just . . .” He shook his head. “Recently I feel like your attention is always divided. You’re thinking about Abbie or your parents. And I know those are big things going on in your life, but I just wish you’d open up to me more about them.”

  “Sure, open up more.” Despite my fury, my voice sounded eerily calm. “That’s really the problem here. Me.”

  Connor blinked at this. “You’re mad.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Tell me why you think I’d be mad.”

  Connor sighed and raked his hands through his hair. “Come on, Skylar. You know I hate that kind of stuff. Let’s just get it all out on the table.”

  “Yeah. Go ahead. Get it out on the table.” I took a step back and gave him an icy glare with only minimal effort. “You have plenty to share, don’t you? From Saturday night?”

  Connor’s face froze in horror. “That’s what this is about.”

  “Yeah.” I pulled my arms tight against my chest, like I could protect myself. “Lisa told me.”

  “Look, I know I should’ve told you, but it wasn’t a big deal—”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, spare me, Connor,” I said as I marched away.

  He jogged to catch up. “She needed a ride home, I took her home. That was it. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d freak out.”

  “No. I’m freaking out because you didn’t tell me.”

  “You’d have freaked out either way and you know it.”

  “No.” We’d reached a quieter part of the hallway, so I pulled to the side and stopped walking. “This doesn’t get to be about what’s wrong with me, okay? It’s not about my insecurities or all the ways I might have screwed up. This is about you not telling me something you know you should have.”

  He swallowed and nodded slowly. “You’re right. I should’ve told you.”

  “I told you she was the end of us.”

  “I told you she was the end of “I know you did. I’m sorry.”

  “What’s the deal with her?” I forced myself to ask. I hoped I wouldn’t cry again. “Why can’t you just leave her alone?”

  “Skylar, she needs someone stable in her life. That’s all I’m trying to be.”

  And that’s when it dawned on me. “I get it now.” So Connor had flaws after all. “It’s not just about being there for her, is it?”

  “Of course that’s all it is,” he said crossly. “I’ve been telling you that the whole time.”

  “No. It’s about fixing her. Just like you fixed me.”

  “It’s not like that,” Connor said, each syllable measured and heavy.

  I’d seen him angry like this only once before—my eighteenth birthday when I’d suggested he wanted to be my boyfriend, but Connor hadn’t been ready to admit it to himself. It would only be a matter of time before he realized I was right about this too.

  “It is. And I can’t be in a relationship like this. We have no chance of being happy and normal because you need to be swooping in and saving the day.”

  “I’m not listening to another word of this lunacy,” Connor said before stalking away.

  And that’s how we ended. Him walking away and me standing there, reeling from what had just happened.

  I’d lost him.

  22

  “You’re sure you don’t mind me going?”

  “I have more than enough to do.” Abbie looked up from assembling a bouncy seat. “I have a kid to name, a room to decorate, a bag to pack . . .”

  “Our bag is packed.” I raised my bed skirt, revealing the red duffle bag.

  Abbie sighed. “No wonder Chris yelled at me. You’ve taken care of everything. Even bedding.”

  Her smile transformed into a grimace, and she clutched her stomach with both hands. I knew by then not to say anything, just to watch the clock and wait. After twentyish seconds, she released her stomach and resumed normal breathing.

  “How many today?” I asked.

  “That’s the first one.”

  All week this had gone on, starting with the night of the Sweetheart dance. Contractions started, happened off and on for thirty minutes, and then faded away. The doctor said this was normal, and it would still likely be weeks until the baby came. Considering the disheveled state of the nursery, weeks still felt too soon.

  I turned to my closet and reached for a group of shirts. “Any luck on names?”

  “If it was a boy, I’d be done.”

  “If it was a boy, I’d “Well, it’s a girl.”

  “I know.” Abbie sighed and rubbed her belly. “It’s really hard. I mean, this will be her name forever. For better or worse. Think about it.”

  “I’m sure you’ll pick a great one.”

  “I might just have to see her first.” Abbie gaped. “What are those?”

  I blushed and shoved them deep into my duffle bag. “Nothing. Just some shirts I picked up.”

  Abbie snorted. “They’re plain tees. Since when do you buy plain tees?”

  “I just liked them, okay?” I caught myself tugging at my hair and stuffed my hands in my pockets. I wished she’d stop with the critical looks.

  “Since when do you like anything plain?” She pointed at me. “And that shirt you’re wearing. I saw that for seven dollars at J.Crew! What’s with you?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, as if it could hide my striped top. “I jus
t thought it was time for a new look.”

  “A boring look?”

  “Not boring. Classic. Simple.”

  “Not boring.

  “Boring.”

  “Stop saying boring,” I huffed, turning back to my packing.

  I’d never bought anything on clearance. When things were priced to move—and at $6.99 a pop, these shirts definitely were—it meant they moved right into the closet of everyone who saw them. And that’s when you showed up at a party wearing the same thing as every other girl.

  But with Connor out of my life, basically no friends, and a strange slowdown in schoolwork, I’d found myself with an excess of free time. So I’d indulged in a little retail therapy. I usually avoided the back of stores so I wouldn’t even be tempted by the good deals, but I wasn’t in my usual shopping spirits. My heart didn’t feel like being at the mall. It felt like returning to bed and having a good long cry. And in my distracted state, I wandered too far in. Before I could stop myself and get out of there, I spotted the shirts—so soft and comfy and discounted.

  I rationalized the purchase with the knowledge that I’d been accepted to Johnson County’s nursing program. Having officially turned away from textiles, it was pointless to devote so much energy and money to clothing. These shirts—cotton long-sleeve tees in varying earth tones—would still be in style years from now. I could stop my endless cycle of buying new clothes every season. Maybe I’d even go a whole year without buying something new . . .

  “Skylar, you okay? You look kinda panicked.”

  “I’m fine. Honestly.” I pushed the shirts deeper into the bag and covered them with a couple pairs of jeans. My new boring—no, classic—style made packing a breeze.

  “Sneakers?” Abbie said as I tied my shoes. “Okay, what’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you wear sneakers in forever.”

  “It’s a youth retreat. I don’t exactly need my Manolos.” She shrugged. “If you say so. But you’re just not Skylar without your weirdly amazing clothes.”

  It reminded me of a time not long ago, when Connor asked if I thought dressing unique made me unique. I’d feared it for a while now, that I’d let my clothes become so big a part of my identity that I couldn’t be separated from them.

  “I half thought you’d cancel,” Connor said, throwing my bag into the back of Amy’s van. Brian had signed up to chaperone. “I didn’t think Abbie’d want you leaving.”

  “The doctor said lots of women start having contractions a few weeks out.” I shrugged. “I guess it’s a longer process than they show on TV. Did you know most of the time the water doesn’t even break? They have to break it for you.”

  “Gross.”

  I sat on the curb and crossed my legs at the ankles. Around us, parents dropped off students while youth coaches shoved bags into vehicles. I missed Heather. She’d make all this bearable. Just a few more days until she returned from Uganda.

  Connor took a seat next to me, careful to put distance between us. We hadn’t talked much since our fight on Monday, just necessary exchanges like, “Hello,” and, “Can I turn down the radio, or are you listening to this?”

  I hadn’t told anybody about our breakup. It looked like he’d been putting it off too.

  “So. This is awkward,” Connor said. “I don’t think we’ve been alone since that really great chat on Monday.”

  I gestured to the parking lot full of activity. “We’re not alone.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  I shrugged. I should’ve backed out of this thing, especially since I knew Jodi planned to come and things were bound to get even more awkward than this.

  “I really am sorry,” Connor said. “About all of it. Giving her a ride home. You having to hear about it from Lisa.”

  I shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter.”

  And it didn’t. Not now, anyway. It had happened and we’d broken up. If we hadn’t broken up Monday, it would’ve happened eventually. Now we should both focus on moving on.

  I felt Connor evaluate my outfit.

  “You know, you’ve been dressing differently the last few days.” He cocked his head and studied my shirt, jeans, and sneakers. “No animal prints. No funky jewelry. I kinda miss it.”

  “I so don’t want to talk about it.” I rested my palms on the cold, hard ground and leaned back.

  Connor frowned. “Is something going on?”

  Connor frowned. “Is something “It’s none of your business.”

  His frown deepened. “If something’s going on with you, I’d like to think you’d tell me about it.”

  “Why?” I scoffed. “Because we used to date?”

  His eyes widened at this. “Used to?”

  I turned away. “We broke up on Monday.” How could he not know this?

  “No we didn’t.”

  “I told you Jodi was the end of us, and you basically told me you felt you had to be ‘stable’ for her.”

  “You’re inferring a breakup from that?” He pulled his hands through his hair, making it stick out in all directions. He needed to get it cut. “That was just a fight, Skylar.”

  He needed to get it cut. “That “No, it was a breakup.”

  “It was a fight.”

  “Okay, fine. Then this is a breakup. We’re broken up.”

  “Stop being hurt and stubborn for, like, two seconds and really think about this, okay?” When I wouldn’t look at him, he moved in front of my face. “I love you. I want to be with you. Do you believe that?”

  My insides warmed with his words. Only God could provide the strength for me to get through this. “It’s not that I doubt any of that, Connor, and I’m not saying it’s over forever. I’m saying you have something you need to work out. Until you resolve your need to fix every broken girl you come across, I don’t think we should be together.”

  Eli ambled over to us. “Hey, guys. What’s going on?”

  “Can you give us a minute?” Connor practically barked at him. “We’re in the middle of something.”

  Eli splayed his hands, surrendering, and backed away.

  “You could’ve asked him a little nicer,” I said.

  “He’s a big boy. He can deal with it.” Connor claimed my fingers, and I fought away thoughts of how much I’d miss him. “Please don’t break up with me.”

  “Please stop asking me that,” I whispered.

  Connor watched my twitching left eye. “Skylar, you have every right to be mad at me. I get it. But this is nothing we can’t work through.”

  I took a wobbly breath. “When you work through it— when you’re no longer in love with the idea of rescuing Jodi—then we’ll talk.”

  I pried my fingers from his and joined Eli, who loitered by one of the vans, looking unsure.

  He grinned when he spotted me coming his way. “Everything cool?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah.” Luckily Eli didn’t know to look at my left eye or that when the bridge of my nose creased, it meant I was holding in tears. Sometimes it wasn’t so bad to be with someone who didn’t know you that well.

  He pumped his fist with fake enthusiasm. “Ready for the bonding to begin?”

  I forced myself to smile. “Maybe it’ll be better than you think.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe it’ll be worse.”

  And given that beyond him, I saw Jodi approaching us wearing the exact same shirt as me, I felt inclined to agree.

  The last time I’d gone on the winter retreat was my freshman year. My parents had forced me. Time had stood still out here in Podunk, Missouri, and the dilapidated facilities looked exactly as I remembered. Two small dormitories flanked a sand volleyball court. Beside them stood a large, steel-sided building where we ate meals, held worship services, and played awful, goofy games. The rest of the grounds were open fields surrounding a large pond. It probably looked beautiful in the summer, but with my sour mood and the biting sleet, it appeared desolate.

  Jodi and I peeled off from Eli and Connor to follow the res
t of the girls to our dorm. We walked in silence in our matching shirts. This justified all the extra dollars I’d once spent to avoid the clearance racks. Every chaperone—even Brian—said, “You girls call each other? Hardy-har-har.”

  Hilarious.

  Each stark bedroom contained a desk and four bunk beds. Jodi and I walked the hallway together. While we weren’t on the best of terms, I barely knew the names of the other girls.

  I cleared my throat, struggling for the right words to clarify that we’d share a room. “So, do you think we should—”

  “Jodi, in here!”

  We turned toward the voice. Two juniors—Molly and Lucy—stood in the doorway of a nearby room. Jodi had actually spent time at youth group recently. Of course she knew people.

  Both girls seemed to get uncomfortable when they noticed me. Molly tugged at her blonde ponytail. “Hey, Skylar.”

  “Hey, Molly. Lucy.”

  Lucy smiled kindly. “There’s plenty of room for you too.”

  “Thanks.”

  Molly grinned at our shirts. “Did you two plan to—”

  “No,” I interrupted.

  “I like your earrings,” Jodi said, leaning closer to Molly for a better look. “Did your boyfriend get you those?”

  She blushed. “Yeah, for Valentine’s Day.”

  “Lucky girl.”

  With disgust, I tossed my sleeping bag and duffle onto a thin mattress. Was it any wonder that everyone at church hated me but loved Jodi?

  “Abbie didn’t come?” Lucy asked.

  It touched me that she asked, that someone besides Connor and Chris noticed she wasn’t here. I hoped my smile conveyed this. “I think she felt kind of weird.”

  “Are you changing?” Jodi asked as I pulled a shirt from my bag.

  I motioned to our clothes. “I’d rather not walk around like this the rest of the night.”

  Jodi rolled her eyes. “Always have to stand out, don’t you?”

  I yanked the chocolate-colored shirt over my head and gave her a wry smile. “Yeah, brown shirt and jeans. I’ll be a real show stopper.”