by Ivy Adams
Cassidy had gone out with Jason Cairns, a varsity baseball player, for two weeks at the beginning of sophomore year. Their relationship had come to an abrupt end when one night in the cab of his truck he’d rounded second base and tried to steal third. She’d almost broken his jaw. He’d told everyone it was because she liked girls. Ah, life in a small, bigoted town.
Was Australia really far enough to get away from crap like this? She prayed it was.
“You guys run around in skintight pants playing grab ass all day, so I’d say kissing girls is a better option. Besides, if what Marissa Haliday says about you is true, Jackson, then your height isn’t the only thing about you that’s small.”
That wiped the smirk off his tobacco-stained mouth. The other guys guffawed behind him like the juvenile asses they were. Cassidy took Piper’s arm and led her and the others from the shop.
They all loaded into Piper’s purple Honda Civic and pulled out of the parking lot back onto Clarksville Street.
“That was epic, Cassidy,” Mei said, and laughed.
Izzy joined her. “Yeah, I thought Jackson was going to pee his pants right there.”
“Thanks, Cass,” said Piper. “You’re the best friend ever.”
Cassidy sat in the passenger seat, arms akimbo, still fuming. “That, ladies, is why we need to do this. We need a break from Paris, Texas. The sooner, the better.”
“Damn straight! I am so sick of the guys around here,” Izzy agreed.
“What about River?” Piper reminded her.
“Don’t you remember? He went to college. We’re on a break.”
“Didn’t look like you were on a break at the party,” Mei said.
“Trust me. We’re. On. A. Break. So, Costa Rica, here I come. I mean, why not?”
“Well, I’m not going to be the one left behind,” Mei said. “I guess I can take the SAT next semester. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.”
“Yay! I can’t wait,” Piper said. “I promise this is going to be the best thing we’ve ever done.”
Chapter 3
Izzy
Izzy slinked out of her room, hoping to escape to freedom unnoticed by any of the family members she’d rather avoid. Which, typically, was all of them.
She paused outside the bedroom of her younger brother, Shane. She could hear him in there pounding away on his keyboard. Oh, she couldn’t hear the music he was playing, of course—he had the headphones hooked up—but she could hear his fingers flying across the keys. She used to love listening to him play, back when he’d merely been very good, back before he was a prodigy. Before her mother had decided to sculpt him into a virtuoso. The better Shane had gotten, the crazier their mother had become, channeling more and more of her energy into her youngest son. No one else in the family seemed to think it was absurd for a teenage boy to spend eight hours a day practicing Liszt, but Izzy sure did.
She skipped down the stairs before she could contemplate breaking Shane out of jail.
The sounds of a football game roared from the den, along with a wash of football-fueled aggression. Her older brother, Linc, and half the football team were in there watching the tapes of their opponent for next week. Probably her father, too, since he was the high school football coach. There weren’t enough Jane Austen adaptations in the world to counteract that much testosterone.
Ducking down the hall toward the back of the house, she sniffed the air and caught a whiff of scorched poultry. Five years as a stay-at-home mom and her mother still burned to a crisp anything that passed within six inches of her gourmet cooktop. The woman should have stuck to litigation. Unfortunately, there weren’t many job opportunities for high-powered attorneys in Paris, something her father hadn’t considered when he resigned from his position as assistant coach for the University of Texas football team, picked up the whole family, and moved them from Austin to the desolate boondocks of northeast Texas. He’d been fostering John Wayne–like delusions of ranching. Her mother had been thrilled to devote herself full-time to Shane-the-musical-wunderkind, so really, Izzy was the only one who hadn’t benefited from the move.
Izzy bypassed the kitchen and ducked out through the side door. Once free, she dropped down on the steps outside the sunroom. For a moment, she felt a pang of something in her chest. Regret maybe. She fought against the stupid urge to go back inside to talk to her mother. To tell her everything that had happened with River the other night at the party. Mothers were supposed to be good at this sort of thing, right? True, hers probably wouldn’t be, but it was worth a try.
She considered it for about ten seconds. Then the smoke alarm went off in the kitchen. With a sigh, Izzy sent a text message to her mom explaining that she’d be at Piper’s for the night. Her mom probably wouldn’t check the message for hours. There were moments, like this one, when Izzy didn’t quite mind being invisible.
Slipping her cell into her back pocket, she headed for her car but stopped when she saw the overflowing garbage can by the garage. Taking it out was Linc’s job, and he’d once again thrown the recycling in with the trash. The jerk.
“It’s two feet away,” she grumbled as she transferred the aluminum cans into the recycle bin. “Would it kill him to walk the extra few steps?”
Her irritation with Linc made her clumsy, and one of her mother’s Diet Coke cans bounced off the edge and rolled down the driveway, coming to a rest somewhere under Izzy’s flaky and unreliable Kia, Brittney.
Dropping to her hands and knees, she peered under the vehicle, then scooched on her belly and started wiggling. She’d just grabbed the can when she heard the rumble of a truck pulling into the driveway beside her.
Great. Someone was here: either a random delivery guy or another one of her father’s flunkies. And her father’s flunkies were precisely the kind of bully who made fun of a girl for crawling on her stomach for the betterment of the planet. And would possibly take pictures.
“Please be UPS. Please be UPS,” she muttered under her breath as she scooted out from under her car.
It wasn’t UPS.
She nearly groaned when she saw the familiar bright red of Tanner Colt’s gas-guzzling Dodge Ram pickup. Tanner leaned against the passenger-side door, legs stretched out in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, looking for all the world like he’d just settled in to enjoy the show. One eyebrow was arched and a smug smile curved the lips that Piper could rhapsodize about for hours.
“Hey, Isabel.”
“Well, if it isn’t Tanner Glock,” she snarled.
“Careful, Isabel. One of these days you’re going to run out of guns to make fun of my last name with.”
“Oh, I don’t know. With rednecks like you here to fuel the demand, I’m sure the gun manufacturers will keep me in supply. By the way, why are you always at my house? I mean, I know your parents live outside of Paris, but don’t you have family of your own around here?”
Ignoring her jab, he nodded toward the car. “You taking auto repair this semester?”
Izzy flashed the aluminum can. “Recycling, actually,” she quipped, trying to sound cool and collected. Suave even. As if she hadn’t just been crawling around on her belly.
She pitched the can toward the recycle bin, sending up a silent prayer that it would actually make it. It didn’t. Once again, the can rolled down the driveway. This time, Tanner grabbed it and sent it sailing straight into the tub. The show-off.
“You going to watch the movie with us?”
“What movie?”
“Your brother invited the team over to watch some slasher flick.”
“Absolutely.” She smirked, then wrapped her arms around her chest and faked an exaggerated shiver. “That explains the sudden temperature drop. Hell has actually frozen over, and I’m going to spend my free time hanging out with the baboons my brother calls friends.” Then she cocked her head and pretended to think about it for a second. “Nope. Still not cold enough.”
“Then I guess I’ll catch you on Monday.” He flashed he
r a wink and sauntered off into the house.
“I’ll be all shivery in anticipation.” But he was already gone.
Why was it that she spent most of her time being Invisabel Isabel—the girl no one noticed—but whenever she was doing something embarrassing, the most popular guy in school was there to witness it?
Not that she cared what Tanner Colt thought about her. But she would like to retain the last shreds of her dignity.
Still, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t blame her bad mood on Tanner. That rested solely on River’s shoulders. The jerk hadn’t called her since the party out at Mike’s barn. Which might not have been such a big deal, if that hadn’t been the night they’d slept together for the very first time.
She was purposefully late to Piper’s. She didn’t want to be alone with anyone for fear of spilling her guts about River. What would have been the point?
She’d already figured out that sleeping with him had been a pretty stupid idea. Like, colossally stupid. Like, she’d previously thought only cheerleaders-made-mistakes-that-dumb stupid.
And the thing was, when you did something really, massively stupid, you didn’t rush out to tell your friends about it.
Even though she knew they’d be on her side—Cassidy would be first in line to break River’s nose—it was too soon to talk about. There was a giant raw spot inside of her and she wasn’t ready to expose the wound to air.
Besides, this wasn’t ha-ha stupid, like the time she’d driven from her house to Cassidy’s with her iPod sitting on the roof of her car. Or the time she’d locked her keys in the trunk at the state park after dragging Piper hiking.
This wasn’t the kind of stupid you could joke about a few days later. No, this was the kind that burned in your gut and ate at your confidence. The kind of stupid that hurt. The kind you were ashamed of.
What good would telling them do? Cassidy would probably lecture her about personal responsibility and girl power. Mei would ask if she’d practiced safe sex, even though Mei would never in a million years sleep with a guy who’d already dumped her. But it was Piper’s response that Izzy dreaded the most. Piper would be supportive.
Trudging up the stairs, Izzy shuddered at the thought. Supportive was the last thing she needed right now. One word of sympathy and she’d be blubbering like a baby. And nobody needed to see that.
Besides, Piper had enough drama going on for the four of them. As if kissing the pig wasn’t bad enough, life with Piper’s mother was hell. Izzy wouldn’t trade places with her for anything—not even if it meant getting away from the mess she’d made with River. No, she just had to keep her misery to herself for a few more weeks. As soon as they went their separate ways to other countries, they’d forget about River. All of them. Even her. If it was possible to forget the guy who was your first.
She entered Piper’s bedroom to find Cassidy already sprawled on the beanbag, her fingers bright red from a bag of Flamin’ Hot Crunchy Cheetos. Piper sat cross-legged on the bed, a folder of DVDs open on her lap.
“You’re late,” Piper chided.
“Sorry. I got distracted by your boyfriend.”
Piper perked up. “Tanner was at your house?”
Izzy sighed, instantly sorry she’d brought it up. “When isn’t he at my house? Along with most of the football players. It’s just one of the perks of my father being the coach.”
“Remind me why we’re not spending the night at your house.” Piper waggled her eyebrows lasciviously.
Everyone else groaned and ignored the question.
Cassidy chuckled. “I’m surprised that Germaine the Vain lets him out of her sight long enough to hang out with the rest of the team.”
“She doesn’t own him,” Piper reasoned.
Cassidy didn’t even look up, just continued flipping through the magazine open on her lap. “No, she just controls him with the promise of sex.”
“Not just the promise. Or at least not according to Jackson Grosbeck.” Mei shook her head in disgust. “When is that girl going to learn to use her brain instead of her body to get what she wants?”
“Easy for you to say. You have the best brain.” Cassidy popped a Cheeto in her mouth.
“But only one?” Piper teased. “I thought maybe with all those fantastic grades, you kept a spare one stashed somewhere.”
Mei rubbed her hands together like an evil scientist, cackling. “Igor, bring me the spare medulla oblongata!”
“Ah, so that explains why Germaine is so vapid,” Cassidy said. “Obviously, her brain is no longer in her head.”
“Yeah.” Piper giggled. “How dumb do you have to be to not appreciate Tanner?”
Ordinarily, Izzy would have been right there with Cassidy, slamming Germaine, but today she wanted to kick something. Some girls used sex to get what they wanted from boys. She, on the other hand, apparently used sex to actively drive them away.
How bad in bed must I have been?
To distract herself, she teased Piper, “I so don’t know what you see in him.”
Piper looked truly offended. “What’s not to see? The rippling muscles? The silky dark hair? The piercing blue eyes?”
“The ego?” Izzy countered. “The vanity? The subhuman IQ? The ungodly obsession with a sport that worships pointless violence?”
“Last year he was in my honors biology class,” Mei pointed out.
“So?”
“Sooo, he was the only other person who got an A.”
That gave Izzy pause, but she soon dismissed it with a wave. “Okay, so maybe a few functioning brain cells have survived the numerous blows to the head he’s sustained. But you’ve got to give me the football thing.”
Piper crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Izzy. “This is Texas. Everyone is obsessed with football.”
“That doesn’t make it any less pointless or violent.”
Piper smirked. “Objections to football, coming from the only girl in the history of the school to try out for the team?”
Izzy gasped.
Cassidy’s head jerked up. “Not cool, Piper.”
Freshman year, Izzy had gone out for the football team as the kicker. Cassidy had spent all summer helping her practice. The rest of the football team had laughed their asses off when she showed up for tryouts, but she’d been prepared for that. She hadn’t been prepared for her father to not even let her walk onto the field. That was the last time she’d tried to win his approval.
“I was just teasing, Cass.” Piper paused, head cocked to the side. “I think this is what I’m going to miss the most. Who’s going to tease us when we’re off in the four corners of the globe?”
“Um … a globe doesn’t have corners,” Mei pointed out.
Cassidy snickered. “That’s why it’s called a globe.”
Piper beamed, clutching the DVD folder to her chest. “See, that’s what I mean. In France, no one will know me like you guys do. I’m going to miss that.” She sniffed a little.
“Don’t buy stock in Kleenex just yet, Pipes.” But Cassidy smiled as she said it.
“We’re going to be apart. For ten whole weeks. Seventy days. No sleepovers. No movies. No Cheetos.”
“I’m pretty sure they have Cheetos in France,” Cassidy interjected.
“That’s so not the point.” Piper grabbed a Cheeto and threw it at her.
Cassidy—überathlete that she was—dove for it and actually caught it in her mouth.
She held up her hands as if modestly accepting the praise of thousands. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”
Izzy flopped back on the bed. “Jeez, Pipes, just pick a movie. We’re not vampires who are never going to age, you know? What about The Princess Bride?”
It had always been one of Izzy’s favorite movies. When she’d first moved to Paris, Piper, Mei, and Cassidy had invited her over for a slumber party. As they huddled around the TV, watching The Princess Bride and downing Pixy Stix, Izzy had known that these were the friends who would be with her for
the rest of her life.
“Oh, are we back to picking a movie?” Cassidy asked. “I didn’t realize Piper was done waxing melodramatic.”
Piper gave Cassidy a playful shove. “I refuse to apologize for being woman enough to admit I have feelings. Just you wait until you’re all alone in Australia next semester, we’ll see who’s—”
“Actually,” Mei interrupted, “I’ve been doing research. There’s one program we could still get into this semester. We could leave in October.”
“Wow, that’s so quick.” Piper’s eyes lit up. “Awesome!”
“But,” Mei looked a little sad, “we’ve seen each other almost every day since the first grade.”
“Excuse me?” Izzy protested.
“Okay, Ms. Precise,” Mei conceded. “Since the sixth grade. The point is, we’re going to be all alone there. We’ll be lonely.”
“Not me.” Cassidy shook her head.
But Mei gave her a piercing look. “No phone calls. No hanging out at lunch. Plus, some of us won’t even speak the language.”
“All of us except Cassidy,” Piper pointed out.
“I’m not sure Australian qualifies as English,” Izzy said. “Don’t you remember when we tried to watch Mad Max?”
“The point is,” Mei interrupted, trying to steer them back on course, “are we really prepared to live on texting alone?”
Cassidy froze, seemingly considering it, and Izzy didn’t blame her. Izzy had been so focused on how great it would be to get out of Texas for once that she hadn’t thought about leaving her best friends. Her head had been full of images of hiking through the jungle, picturing herself like one of those cool chicks in the Subaru ads driving off-road somewhere. Or zipping from tree to tree on a canopy tour. Maybe even being interviewed for some hip ecology e-zine.
She hadn’t imagined being lonely. “There’s always e-mail,” she pointed out.
“No, Mei’s right,” Piper said slowly. “We should try to keep in touch on Facebook.”
“But we’re going to be busy. We won’t be checking our Facebook pages.”
