Well, sorry buck-o, but that wasn’t going to happen—the “talking things out” with Finn. Not the way he was hoping anyway. Finn and I weren’t going to “patch” things up. I didn’t care where he was—a mental hospital or the moon. I was kicking his sorry, cheating butt to the curb.
“Right. I’ll talk to Finn,” I texted back. But you aren’t going to like what I have to say.
CHAPTER 11
Two days after getting Riley’s text, I blinked, shocked to see him when I opened our front door. I had expected the knock to be my little sister’s friend that was coming over to play “Beauty Shop” with Jillian. I definitely, definitively hadn’t expected the gorgeous hunk that had kissed me so exquisitely and expertly that I was still drooling over it (five days later) to be the one standing at our doorstep. (Especially when he seemed to be avoiding me.)
I think I might have gasped when I saw him, but Riley only eyed me, his eyes glistening with amusement.
He raised his eyebrows, a smile playing at the corners of his beautiful, dream-inducing mouth. “Interesting look.”
Huhhh?
His dancing eyes were targeted on my hair.
Oh!
I touched a dangling curler in my long locks (Guh!!!), only now remembering my head was full of rollers. Rollers!!
Oh, yay! He’s gorgeous and I’m in curlers. I breathed out an embarrassed laugh. “My sister’s being a beautician today.”
“Awesome,” he said with a grin. “Luckily, my phone has a camera.”
I squealed with a laugh as he mockingly made a motion to fish his cell phone out of his pocket. “Don’t you dare!”
“Relax,” he said gently, still smiling, totally amused-like. “Really, I was only getting this.” He pulled out a slip of paper from his pocket and offered it to me.
I tilted my head, staring at it. When that’s all I did, stared at the paper instead of actually reaching for it, the corners of his mouth quirked another grin. “Don’t worry, Jones. It’s not going to take a picture. It’s your paycheck.”
My … paycheck? My stomach fell.
He had never, ever brought me my paycheck to my house before. Ever. But now here he was, after we had kissed and Ava was at his house all of the time. (I know because I’d driven by his house a couple thousand more times since the first time I’d seen it there.) I swallowed. “Did Ava tell you to fire me?”
His eyebrows went up. “Ava tries to tell me to do all sorts of stuff—I don’t usually do them.” He watched me closely, like trying to read my expression. “Yeah, she told me to fire you. But I’m not—of course. You’re the best employee I have.” He gave me a weak smile. “And you kiss pretty good too.”
Heat rushed through me.
I tried to make my voice sound as though my head was staying with the conversation, not floating back to his tantalizing kiss. I swallowed. “You told Ava we kissed?”
His answer was a slow nod. “Yeah … I told Finn too.” He rubbed a bruise on his cheek and cocked an eyebrow. “People aren’t taking it well.”
I swallowed again. The lump in my throat just kept growing and growing. “No. But it’s different with Ava.”
He tilted his head like a question. When I didn’t answer, he scrunched up his brow and asked as though he didn’t agree, “What do you mean?”
“Well, Finn cheated on me. But you and Ava …”
He waited for me to go on. But I didn’t. Wouldn’t. It hurt too much. The words wouldn’t come. Like a punch in the stomach that stole away all my breath—that’s the way I felt about him and Ava. Unspeakable pain.
He stared at me, waiting for me to finish my sentence. Stood stiff and curious, as though he couldn’t breathe until I answered. “Me and Ava what?”
Slowly, I filled my lungs with air, deciding to just come clean and let him know there was no sense denying it or trying to block the painful blow. “I saw her car at your house—a couple of times.”
His lips twitched a weak grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Stalking me, Jones?”
I drew out a breath. “Yeah, I guess so. Look, Riley, I’m pretty busy—my hair appointment and everything.”
He placed a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back to him. “I’ve been stalking you too, Jones—the check’s just an excuse to see you. To talk to you.”
Electrical sparks shot through my body from his touch. And his words.
But with an exaggerated motion he released his hand from my shoulder as though he knew his simple touch was causing my heart to explode … and that’s not what he intended. Or wanted.
He took a step away from me as well, as though he also knew how hard it was for me to be so near him and not jump on him and start mackin’ on those dreamy red lips of his that had kept me up every night these past few days, fantasizing and reliving our hot, tasty tongue encounter.
His words came out hesitant and carful, “Jones, Ava and I—”
I flinched. His beginning had me knowing my heart was going to break. His voice gave it away too. It was all concerned, as though he was worried how I was going to take his announcement.
He didn’t get to finish his sentence, though. Just then Jillian came into the foyer. Her eyes lit up when she saw who was at our door.
“Riley!” she exclaimed. She ran to him and jumped into his arms. “I’m sorry I threw up in your hot tub. Let me make it up to you. I’ll style your hair.” She tugged on his arm excitedly. “Come on. Come into my beauty parlor.”
She led him into our guest bathroom and had him sit in the chair she had at the sink. “Come on Riley.” She patted the seat coaxingly, giving him a big, toothy smile and showing him her big bottle of shampoo. “I’ll make you into a model.”
“Um …” Riley looked worried.
I laughed, for a moment forgetting about Ava and the announcement he was going to make about them as a couple (as if I could!). “I’ll get my camera,” I told him, scrambling upstairs.
I quickly took out my curlers and blew dry my hair. It actually looked … awesome. Go Jillian.
But just as I was racing downstairs with my camera, I got a phone call. I was so excited to witness Jillian doing Riley’s hair, I forgot to check caller ID. So, suddenly I was faced with a very stern voice.
“Zoey, perhaps we’ve been a bit hasty,” the words came from Finn’s mom.
Groan.
***
The only way I was able to finally get off the phone was announcing, “I have to go—there’s someone at the door.” And it wasn’t even a lie.
There was someone at the front door. It ended up being Jillian’s little friend, late for her “beauty” appointment.
By the time I was able to return to the guest bathroom, Jillian had already finished shampooing Riley’s hair and was busy blowing it dry. Priceless!
My heart melted at the scene.
I snapped a bunch of pictures as Riley posed adorably while Jillian worked her beauty magic with the blow-dryer (which, until today, she had never used before in her life). But once Jillian turned off the dryer and reached for our curling iron, Riley jumped to his feet as though his seat was on fire.
“I see your next appointment is here, Jillian,” he said, still eyeing the curling iron anxiously, as though the thing was surely going to give him nightmares. “How much do I owe you for this awesome ’do?”
“Nothing!” she gushed, sounding flattered at his offer. “It’s free!”
“Aw, Jillian. Thanks.” He gave her a huge hug, then he gave himself another dramatic look in the mirror, as though he loved his new “look” so much that he could barely tear his gaze away. “I love it! You’re awesome.”
She grabbed her notebook with a huge, pleased smile and gazed up at him adoringly. “So, you want me to schedule you in for next week?”
“Definitely!” he said, giving her a playful pat on the cheek and making her year. “Schedule me in for every week.”
Jillian beamed, eagerly writing notes in her “scheduling” notebook. Then
she turned to her friend, “You’re late.”
“Yeah, sorry,” the girl said, not taking her eyes off Riley. Gawking at him like he was a rock star. (Which lots of girls do. They gawk at Riley and get tongue-tied. They had ever since middle school. It used to be hilarious. But, sigh. These days I found myself doing it as well … so not so funny anymore. Kind of sad, actually.)
I walked Riley to the door, desperately wanting to broach the subject of him and Ava again, but not quite sure how. Or quite sure that I really, truly wanted to. I mean, he had sounded all guarded and cautious as he mentioned the subject. Like he had been wary to break the news to me that he and Ava were back together … or whatever he was going to tell me. I mean, it hadn’t sounded at all happy. In fact, it had sounded foreboding. So, I was half-way thinking maybe it was better to just not mess with it until I was less emotional (like, next millennium).
Being the chicken that I was, instead of mentioning Ava, I said, “Sorry I missed most of your beauty appointment. Really sorry. But it was Finn’s mom on the phone.”
“Oh yeah?” Riley raised his eyebrows, stopping at the door. He turned back to me. “What did she have to say?”
I shrugged, feeling caught in the middle of a mess I didn’t want to be in. At all. I just wanted to lick my wounds and be left alone. “She wants me to go see Finn. Now. But before she was telling me not to. But now she says that Finn begged her to talk to me—to get me to go see him.”
Riley ran a hand over his face, looking torn. Or guilty. Or … something. “You know, you probably should.”
I sighed. “I guess.”
He looked away from me, as though he wasn’t comfortable with the conversation. (Probably because he felt we were responsible for his friend being in the mental ward.) Distractedly, he eyed the box of stuff by the door. It was filled with things Finn had given me throughout the years. Stuff I felt I should get rid of, but wasn’t quite sure I was ready to take that final step.
He eyed my favorite green sweater folded on the top. “You getting rid of that stuff?” He wet his bottom lip in this way he has when he wants to say something but doesn’t know if he should.
The gesture got my heart pounding ’cause it called attention to his soft, perfect lips (that were now all moist and shiny). My eyes stalled on them, remembering how they had hungrily crashed against mine. Mmm. He wet his lip again. “You’re going to throw away the sweater?”
I leaned against the wall and sighed. “I’m not throwing it out—yet. Unfortunately. I love the sweater. I can’t actually bear to part with it—yet. But it’s going up in the attic—at least for a while. Then maybe—hopefully—I’ll toss it.”
His long lashes masked his eyes as he stared at the sweater. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “But you like the sweater?”
I gave a little groan. “I do. I had loved it. Dearly. It was actually one of the best gifts Finn had ever given me. This sweater—it was like for once he “got” me, you know?” I held the soft green sweater up to my face and rubbed it gently against my cheek. “This sweater—it’s me.”
“Zoey …” Riley gave me a weak grin. “I gave you the sweater.”
CHAPTER 12
Riley—back in Middle School
“Dude, shopping? Really?”
“It’s for my girlfriend. She’ll kiss me for it.” Finn had yanked on my arm, dragging me along the crowded mall. “Come on, Summer said Zoey was looking at the sweaters at the front of the store.”
When we got there, he grabbed the first sweater he saw.
“You’re getting that?”
Finn looked at it, then at me. “Yeah. Summer said—”
“—the sweaters at the front of the store, I know. But don’t those look more like Zoey?” I gestured to the sweaters further to the back. They looked soft … and pretty. Like something Zoey would wear.
Finn eyed the sweaters I was pointing at, then back at the one in his hands. “This one’s blue. Zoey looks good in blue.”
Okay, Zoey looked good in anything, so I kept my mouth shut. For a second. “Finn, her favorite color’s green.”
Indecisiveness flickered in his eyes. “How do you know?”
Because she looks hot in green is what I was thinking. But that’s not what I said. Of course. Instead, I raised my eyebrows. “Because she wears it constantly?” When he still looked skeptical I added, “Because her room’s plastered in it?”
I went on, ‘cause I couldn’t shut up, “And her sunglasses are green and her toenail polish is green and that notebook she always carries around is green …”
“Okay, okay.” He put back the sweater he chose and grabbed one in teal.
“Dude, green!” I said.
But in the end, he chose some weird sweater with a dog on it.
“What? She likes animals,” he explained when I just stared at him, baffled by his inability to get his girlfriend something she would actually like.
The sweater was … hideous.
Later that day—after hours of trying to talk myself out of it—I’d ridden my bike back to the mall and got Zoey the green sweater. The one I knew she’d like. It was for her birthday after all … and I knew she’d love the sweater. (The whole time I was getting it I’d grumbled at Finn in my head—the loser Lover-boy who was unable to truly grasp his own girlfriend. The girl who worshipped and adored him.)
I just needed to somehow get the sweater to her without her knowing it was from me. (Since, yeah, she was my best friend’s girlfriend. Not mine.)
So I wrapped the sweater, but didn’t sign the card. It just said “Happy Birthday, Zoey.” That way she would definitely know it wasn’t from me—since I never called her Zoey. Also, she thought I hated her. So, no problem. She’d never suspect it was from me.
But then, of course, when she unwrapped the “anonymous” gift she thought it was from Finn. And he’d been more than willing to take the credit for it.
The funny thing was though, he never suspected the gift was from me either. I loved him like a brother. I did. But man, he was clueless when it came to Zoey.
CHAPTER 13
Zoey
Tingles raced through my body when Riley told me he’d given me the sweater. With all of my heart I wanted to throw my arms around him and explain that I didn’t want to talk to Finn. I wasn’t going to take him back. Wasn’t going to forgive him. And I didn’t need closure. All I needed was him—Riley.
But as soon as he had sweetly confessed that he had given me the sweater—at the exact moment I was going to throw myself at him—he got a text message on his cell phone. I knew exactly who the text was from by the noise the text ringer made—Ava.
Riley heard it, and I swear, he winced like he was in pain. Only, it was probably actually guilt—guilt that he wanted to leave me right that second to read her sexy message in private.
“I’ll see you, Jones,” he said huskily, and then he escaped out of my house as though he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. But at his car he turned back to me, still not reading the message. “Talk to Finn.”
Then he was gone. He got into his bright shiny red car and drove off. Probably to Ava.
CHAPTER 14
Finally, I decided to do what Riley said—talk to Finn. After all, Finn was begging—and now so was his mom. And I just wanted to get it over with—the actual break-up. Though it kind of seemed unnecessary. I mean, what with my kissing Riley, and Finn doing whatever he did to Bianca. Multiple times. If that didn’t scream, “We’re over!” it didn’t seem anything would.
But people talk about “closure.” And how it’s necessary. And blah, blah, blah. Really, I just wanted to have it out with Finn so he would stop calling and I would never have to hear his lying, cheating voice again. Maybe years from now I would look back and remember our past with fondness and feel some sort of warm and toasty peace. But right now it just made me want to scream and throw things. The guy had lied to me. Over and over.
I gave Finn’s parents their week of letting
their son “heal” (grrr!), then I drove the forty minutes to Blanket Grove Mental Hospital.
When I got to the “guest area” Finn was already there in the room, waiting for me. He had his back against the wall, thumbing through a magazine. I just stood in the doorway, not able to walk over to him. My mind was filled with a jumble of emotions. There he was, the boy I had loved for years. He had cheated on me. Lied to me.
It all hit me again at once—just seeing him.
When Finn saw me, he tilted his head like a question. Probably wondering why I didn’t come into the room like a normal person. But I didn’t feel like a normal person. I felt abused. Like I’d had my heart plunged into with a knife—by that boy standing right over there. That boy that I used to love. And trust. With all of my heart.
It made me suddenly unable to move.
Finn hopped up from the chair he’d been leaning against and scrambled over to me.
“Zoey, man. It’s awesome to see you. It feels like I haven’t seen you in months!” He tried giving me a hug, but I stepped away from him.
“Yeah, it feels longer than a week, huh?” I collapsed into the vinyl-type couch that was conveniently located right next to me. Otherwise, I probably would have slid down to the floor because my legs were about to give out. What was I doing here? I wasn’t ready for this. Ready to talk to him—this boy that had betrayed me.
What am I doing here?!
Finn slipped into the chair next to me. It was set up at a table with cards, but he turned away from the table to stare at me as though he was trying to read my mind.
Fall Forever (Fall For Me) Page 4
