I swallowed. How would Dallas react when I told him I’d volunteered him? Maybe I’d just forget to mention it altogether. I could track down Drew in a few days and tell him Dallas had changed his mind. “Sure, I’ll tell him,” I lied.
Drew gathered his papers and I noticed his leather laptop bag had monogrammed initials. How had I missed all the warning signs?
My phone pinged with another text. “Msg rec’d. Recommend abort mission. Return to base for refueling.”
I sent him a row of question marks.
“Pizza. Toff and Claire won. C U @ Slice? Everyone’s going.”
Everyone was going to Slice of Heaven? A twinge of jealousy snaked through me as I pictured Dallas laughing with all the surfer girls. Amy was right. Surfing was sexy. And Dallas had just watched Claire and the other girls rock their stuff.
Maybe it was just as well. If he didn’t find his own RC target, I was going to have to find someone for him. And I definitely didn’t want to do that.
“Have fun,” I texted, my fingers flying quickly before I could chicken out. “Don’t worry about my mission. Worry about your own, soldier.”
I took another sip of tea, which tasted bitter and cold. After Drew left I waited, but Dallas never replied.
“Virtue is a relative term.”
—Spock
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sunday, September 7
Since it was Sunday, Mom was gone, restoring her serenity with Natasha and the meditation posse. We’d had a good laugh when I had to chase her down the deck steps before she left wearing her jammies. I knew that meant her current book project was going well.
I was grateful for a day to myself in the store. I hadn’t heard back from Dallas last night, which bothered me way more than it should. I hoped to make a lot of progress on the inventory without him. The sooner it was finished, the sooner he’d be out of my hair. And my heart.
The bell on the door jingled and Mrs. Sloane entered, leaning on her cane.
“Hi, doll,” she said, fluffing her hair. “Romance deficiency. Need my fix.”
I smiled, happy to see her. “What are you in the mood for?” Based on all the data entry I’d done last week, I knew our stock better than ever.
“Hmm.” She made her way toward the romance shelves slowly, leaning heavily on her cane. I hurried around the counter to give her an arm to lean on. She winked at me. “That book Amy had us read for book club was excellent. Maybe another gothic?”
I was about halfway through Amy’s book. It was old-school but I had to admit the brooding hero had a certain appeal. Dallas had suggested Castle Crazies as the category name for gothics. I’d rejected it. Instead we’d compromised on Castle Cravings. I pushed away the image of us laughing together, arguing over the name.
“This one’s awesome.” I pulled a book from the shelf. “Just the right blend of scary and swoony.”
Mrs. Sloane flipped it over to read the back blurb. “Mm hm,” she mumbled to herself. “I’ll take it.” She gave me a mischievous smile. “I heard about a new werewolf shape-shifter series. It’s supposed to be hotter than the one we read for our book club.” She fumbled in the pocket of her sweater and pulled out a slip of paper. I read the author’s name and smiled. “Definitely hot,” I whispered conspiratorially.
“I think I’ll stay for awhile. That coffee smells delicious.”
We always kept a pot of coffee brewed for customers who liked to sit and peruse books.
“Sure,” I said. “You sit down; I’ll bring it to you.” A few minutes later I sat with her at one of the small tables.
“How’s the Shady Cove Retirement Center? Anything exciting happening?”
She snorted. “I knew living with old people would be boring, but that place…” She shook her head. “A few of us like to get out and about. But most of the folks can’t go out or don’t want to.” She took a sip of coffee. “There’s a new lady who reads as much as I do. Her name’s Bertie. I met her grandson. Nice young man, except he never took off his sunglasses.”
Retirement homes scared me. I was terrified of getting old, but maybe I’d end up like Mrs. Sloane, feisty and full of spunk. And reading lots of sexy books.
“I have a list of books to bring back for my friends,” Mrs. Sloane said. “The ones who can’t get out.” She reached into her sweater pocket again, pulling out a piece of paper that had been folded into a tiny square.
I took it, carefully unfolding the paper. The handwriting was spidery and shaky. “Um, I’m not sure I can read this.” I felt bad, imagining myself desperate for books and unable to get to a bookstore or library.
Mrs. Sloane took the paper and held it out in front of her, narrowing her eyes. “Bertie has the worst penmanship I’ve ever seen.” She sighed. “I know she likes romances, but I’m not sure which type.”
“Um, does she know how to use a computer? Maybe she could order books online.”
She laughed. “Sweetie, I know it’s easy for your generation, but only a few of us at the center know how to use the internet. And not everyone can afford to buy books.”
I fiddled with the zipper on my hoodie. There had to be some way to help people get access to books. The library was small, and only open a few days a week because of budget cuts. Even if the library was open 24/7, it didn’t matter to the shut-ins.
As I sipped my coffee, I thought of Dallas’s software, of the giant database of books we’d have once the inventory was complete. Maybe the seniors didn’t know how to use computers, but Dallas had showed me some of the reports we’d be able to print.
Excited, I leaned across the table. “I have an idea,” I said. “What if I brought the books to you and everyone else at the center?”
Mrs. Sloane’s eyes lit up. “Do you think you could?”
“I’m pretty sure I can. I should be able to print out a list of all the books we have in stock. Everyone at the center could go through it and mark what books they want. Then I could deliver them.” I got even more excited as I thought about it. I could bring my laptop and record transactions and keep track of the trades. We could donate a lot of the older books to the center so they wouldn’t have to pay for them. And I could make recommendations based on prior reads.
Mrs. Sloane clapped her hands together. “Oh, Vivian, what a marvelous idea! I can’t tell you how happy this will make people.”
Matching readers to books was my super power, not to mention, it didn’t involve boys or hormones or my RC mission at all. It would just be me and books and readers. Heaven.
“I’ll ask Mom to call the director of the center so they know it’s legit.”
Mrs. Sloane smiled at me. “Don’t underestimate yourself, doll. I don’t think you need anyone to vouch for you.”
...
I’d just locked up the store when Mom called from her cell. “Paul and Toff are coming for dinner.”
“Again?” This shared family dinner thing was new. Paul and Mom went out every weekend, but I wondered what this forced family time meant for Mom and Paul. Were they getting more serious? Or just pretending we were the Brady Bunch, only with two kids instead of six?
“Vivvy.” Mom’s voice sounded disappointed.
“It’s fine,” I reassured her. “What are we cooking?”
“We’re not. You’ve worked all afternoon, and I’m too tired. Paul and Toff are supplying dinner.”
“I hope it’s edible.”
Mom laughed. “They’re getting lasagna from Spinelli’s.”
“Sounds great,” I lied. I didn’t want to be social tonight, but I couldn’t bail. Mom would be hurt if I did. Plus, Toff would just bust into my room and drag me downstairs to eat. He had boundary issues sometimes.
As soon as we finished dinner, I’d make up some excuse and escape to my room. I needed to post a review of the latest sci-fi romance I’d read, starring a smoking hot spaceship captain. The sci-fi was secondary to the romance, so there was a lot of blog noise about the book not being “real” sc
i-fi. I’d gotten into an online debate with another review blogger about space operas, Star Trek, Firefly, and a whole bunch of other stuff only book nerds and sci-fi nerds cared about.
Drew texted me just as Paul’s old VW van pulled into our driveway. I ignored the text, watching from the window as Paul and Toff emerged from the van with foil containers of food and a bottle of wine. From a distance they looked more like brothers than father and son.
My phone pinged with that annoying look-at-me reminder so I opened Drew’s message. “Did you talk to Vespa guy about auditioning yet?”
Why was he so impatient? “No.”
“One of my acts dropped out. Ask him if he can try out this week.”
I chewed my bottom lip. Maybe I should tell Dallas about it. Maybe he liked being on stage.
“Wordworm! Where are you, brainiac?” Toff’s voice floated up the stairs. I closed my eyes in frustration. My life would be so much easier if I could live on a planet of women.
Toff knocked on my door. “You decent in there or is it my lucky day?”
Gross. “Don’t you have kitchen stuff to do? I’m sure the parents need your help.”
“The parents are busy sucking face, which is why I escaped to your room.” He rattled the doorknob. “Let me in. I need to talk to you.”
Uh oh. He sounded serious, the laughter gone from his voice. A tingle of warning crawled up my spine as I crossed the room to unlock the door.
“Hey.” He frowned down at me, which made the tingle increase. “Okay if I come in?”
I stepped back, gesturing him inside. “Did someone get eaten by a shark?” A girl could hope, I thought, picturing Jake being pulled under water, arms flailing.
Toff smiled faintly, then plopped into my desk chair. He picked up a paper clip and started twisting it into weird shapes, not looking at me.
Nervous, I perched on the edge of my bed. “What’s up, Flipper? You’re freaking me out.”
He glanced at me, his eyes troubled, then he refocused on the paper clip mangling. “I, uh, heard a rumor.” He looked up at me, still not smiling. “Did you…were you and Jake…” His voice faded and he took a breath, dropping his gaze to his paperclip. “Did you two, like, hook up over the summer?”
No. No. No. What had Jake told Toff? Who else had he told? I pictured Dallas and my stomach twisted. I couldn’t look at Toff. I tugged at a loose thread on my comforter, swallowing over the lump that appeared in my throat
My chair squeaked as Toff shifted. “So it’s true.”
“I can’t believe Jake told you.” I raised my eyes to find him watching me intently. His sky blue eyes were cloudy, his lips a thin line.
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
Anger shot through me. “Yeah, it does, Toff. I don’t want anyone to know about…what happened.”
Toff glared at me. “Why not? Everyone knew how you felt about Jake.”
My pulse pounded in my ears. “They did?”
Toff rolled his eyes. “The way you always watched him…hard to miss, Viv.” He glared at his paper clip, twisting it. “I just didn’t think you were…you know.” He broke the paper clip in half.
“Didn’t think I was what?” I snapped.
He shrugged, not looking at me. “I never thought you’d sleep with someone like him.”
Air whooshed out of me like he’d punched me. A tornado of chaotic emotions swirled through me—embarrassment that he thought I’d done something I hadn’t, combined with anxiety about what lies Jake was telling, and to whom.
No, I hadn’t slept with Jake, but what if I had? Would that make me a bad person? And what about Jake? I doubted Toff would say the same thing to him. He’d probably high-five him.
“Get out,” I whispered, pointing at my door. I was not having this conversation with him. I was mortified…and pissed off…and needed him to leave.
“Viv, wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“You said exactly what you meant, Toff. Now get out.”
He stood up, looking contrite. “Just go.” I pointed at the door again, trembling with anger and embarrassment.
He sighed in exasperation, but he left, closing the door quietly behind him.
I finally let the tears flow, wrapping my arms tightly around my torso. Was I going to end up with a reputation just for kissing? The irony practically killed me. And why was it just girls who were called sluts? No one ragged on Toff for hooking up with all the surfer girls. The double standard had always bothered me and to feel like one of my friends was judging me on that same standard infuriated me.
No way was I going downstairs for dinner.
Flopping back on my bed, I pictured the beautiful planet from the Star Trek episode where Spock fell in love. Paradise, where everyone was happy all the time. I’d give anything to be able to beam myself there and never come home again.
...
Toff and I didn’t speak to each other during dinner. Mom had insisted I join them, even when I pleaded an upset stomach. Mom and Paul watched us like we were lab specimens, occasionally sharing worried parental looks, punctuated with frowns and hyperactive eyebrows.
I ate half-heartedly, not even tasting the marinara sauce. I stood up with my nearly full plate. “I’ll clean up,” I said, turning away from the table.
“But we’re not finished yet,” Mom protested.
“I just remembered I left dessert in the van,” Paul said. “Toff, can you and Viv go get it?”
Like a pouty kid I faced Paul, glowering. “Do we both need to go?”
“Vivvy.” Mom revved up her warning voice.
“There’s a box of books in there, too, for the store,” Paul said. “I got it from one of my tenants who moved out yesterday.” Paul owned a duplex close to the beach and rented out one side to a rotating crew of surfers who came to learn from him or just be beach bums for awhile.
Toff’s chair legs screeched on the tile floor as he stood up. “I’ve got it.” He set his napkin on his chair and brushed past me.
Mom’s face went hyperactive, sending me all sorts of messages. I banged my glass on the table. “Fine,” I growled and stomped after Toff.
Outside, Toff leaned against the van looking across the main road toward the sun setting over the ocean. The fading dusty striations of orange and red reminded me of a vintage postcard.
“It’s your business, who you hook up with,” Toff said as soon as I got within hearing distance.
“You’re right, it is. But we didn’t…it’s not what you think.” I spoke through gritted teeth because if I didn’t stay angry I’d start crying. I hated losing control of my feelings like this, especially over someone who hadn’t even treated me decently.
Toff turned to look at me. The breeze mussed his sun-streaked surfer hair. His blue eyes fixed on mine, and I knew most girls would love to trade places with me right now. But I didn’t feel any zings as we waited for each other to speak. Instead I felt awkward, and angry, and a weird pressure to justify my actions, like my big brother had found me out.
But you didn’t do anything wrong, I told myself. You didn’t use Jake. He used you.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” His arms crossed over his chest.
I looked away to focus my thoughts.
“What did Jake tell you?” I kept my eyes on the setting sun. Just a few more seconds and it would dip below the horizon, sort of like my heart was about to sink as I told Toff the truth.
He sighed next to me. “It doesn’t matter. I want to hear your version.”
I leaned against the van, letting the fading warmth from the metal seep into me. Toff had been my friend since kindergarten. He was always there for me, teasing and joking, yeah, but always sweet. I knew I could trust him. Maybe he could counteract whatever rumors asshat Jake was spreading.
“It was a few weeks before school started. Jake came in the store to get books for his grandma.”
He nodded, keeping his eyes on the sunset instead of me.
<
br /> I swallowed. “Anyway, he asked if I…asked me to meet him, down in the cove after curfew.” I shrugged. “So I did.”
“Of course you did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He gave me a rueful smile. “Like I said, you’ve lusted after him since kindergarten.”
I smacked him on the arm. “Kindergartners don’t lust.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Puppy love. Crazy crush. Whatever you want to call it. You’ve had it bad for Jake forever.”
I turned away, embarrassed. “Not anymore.” I took a breath. “So yeah, I met him. It was…well, you know how I felt about him…”
My voice faded away. I wasn’t going to share the gory details but I wanted him to know that whatever Jake was saying wasn’t true. “We didn’t um…it was mostly just kissing.” I felt Toff tense next to me but he didn’t say a word. “He, uh, you know…wanted more. But…” I took a deep breath, gulping in sea-scented air for strength, listening to the gulls cry out as they swirled overhead.
“I asked him to meet me for lunch. Smoothies, whatever. More than once. He always had some excuse.” I shrugged, fighting back tears. I’d been such an idiot not to see right through him. “Anyway.” My voice was ragged. “When I didn’t want to…you know…that was it. He dumped me.”
Toff stepped away from the van, hands stuffed in his pockets, staring straight ahead, his jaw taut. I shivered as the breeze turned colder now that the sun had set.
“You knew his reputation, Viv.” He practically spat out the words.
I whirled toward him. “You’re blaming me?” White hot anger surged through me. “I should’ve known you’d defend him. Bros before hos or whatever.”
He stepped close, his eyes flashing. “What? You think I’m defending him?” Toff closed his eyes briefly, running his hands through his tangled hair, frustration emanating from him like smoke from a bonfire. “Damn it, Viv. The guy’s a douche. I want to kill him right now.” He stared down at me, vibrating with intensity. He bit out his next words. “He’s an asshole.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I figured that much out.”
The Replacement Crush Page 16
