Gabby let go the breath she’d been holding and headed back inside, locking the door as soon as her bare feet hit the spongy new carpet. The inside of the house felt just as ghostly. The dim light washed out the cheery paint colors, making the place feel drab and sad. No sunshine, no sound, no movements other than her own. It was as if time and everything in it had stopped—except her.
“If only,” she muttered to herself. Having unchecked time would be wonderful. Maybe then she could finish the scholarship application and her extra-credit projects in physics and calc. But already the whooshy sound of traffic along Elmhurst was growing steadier. And according to the kitty-cat clock on the kitchen wall, she had only twenty-four minutes until her alarm went off.
Gabby trudged over to the window and glanced out, the same way her mother had kept doing before she left. Only there was nothing to see. Just darkness and the occasional glow from a passing car. Turning her head, she noticed that a light was on in an upstairs window of the main house. Prentiss’s room, judging by the memory of her previous visit, when she’d dropped off the rental agreement. She wondered what he would be doing up at such an hour, especially with no classes to go to.
Did the quiet make him uneasy, like it did her? What did he think about? Gabby imagined him pacing around an incredibly messy room, shirtless and barefoot, his strong jaw flexing in sleepless anxiety. Maybe he was remembering the crash. Or maybe he was staring out the window and wondering about her light, the same way she was wondering about his. For some reason, that thought didn’t upset her the way it should have. In fact, it made her feel a little better—less alone in the gloom.
“Oh, please!” she exclaimed suddenly, grabbing the curtains and pulling them shut. Her mom hadn’t been gone five minutes and already Gabby was losing her grip.
She was tired and stressed and therefore unable to stop her mind from wandering into places she knew it shouldn’t go. Her mom would return home safely—no need for concern. And for all she knew, Prentiss was only now coming home after a hard night of partying. That was probably why the light was on.
Not that it mattered to her. She didn’t care what he did, as long as he stayed out of her way. And her thoughts.
Daphne couldn’t keep still. She had begun pacing the living room as soon as Sheri had dropped her off a half hour before, and she was still at it. At this rate she’d be wearing a deep trench in the new carpet before dusk.
As jumpy as she felt physically, her mind was even more frenzied. She wanted to forget what she’d seen, but she couldn’t. It was as if that horrible image she’d glimpsed after school had been scorched into her corneas.
She’d almost missed it. She’d been sitting in the passenger seat of Sheri’s Outback, zonked from practice, and had just happened to glance out the window. That was when she spied Luke and some of the other guys heading into the parking lot from the basketball court. Lynette, who hadn’t left yet, had run right up to Luke. Daphne could see her slinking around in his space, as if she were crooning a torch song right into his ear. Then Sheri had made the turn and she’d lost sight of them.
For a while Daphne just sat there, only half hearing Sheri try to sing along to some hip-hop tune, unable to accept what she’d seen. Then, when she’d recovered from the shock, she had wrestled with the impulse to grab the steering wheel and turn the car around herself.
Only she hadn’t. And now she was stuck at home. And Luke was who knew where, possibly with Lynette, doing who knew what. Daphne told herself over and over that he’d never go for Lynette, but each time she found it more difficult to believe.
She sat down on the couch, grabbed the remote, and clicked on the TV. A cartoon came blaring on, all bright colors and silly sound effects. But her mind couldn’t follow it. So she stood back up and resumed her laps around the room. Her limbs felt revved up and her eyes kept darting around as if searching for something. It was as if her own body were urging her to take some action. But what?
A knock sounded on the front door and Daphne’s feet left the floor for a split second. Her brain was so focused on Luke that she felt sure it was him, with a bouquet of wildflowers and a rehearsed, ultraromantic speech asking her to prom.
She raced to the door and flung it open, and there, smiling over a big brown grocery sack, stood Mule.
“Oh,” she said.
His grin faded as he registered the disappointment in her voice. “Expecting somebody?” he asked.
“No,” she mumbled. “Come on in.” She pressed herself against the doorjamb and made a halfhearted welcoming motion toward the living room. As he stepped past her, she glanced hopefully about the yard—but there was no one else around.
Mule went straight for the dining room table and started unpacking the bag, pulling out two two-liter bottles of Dr Pepper and a bag of Funyuns. “Is Gabby here?” he asked.
“She’s not back from work yet,” Daphne said. “But it shouldn’t take her very long to get home since she’s got Mom’s car.” She stuck her index finger in her mouth and started gnawing on what was left of the nail. Meanwhile, her right leg jiggled as if she were trying to dislodge an overly amorous Chihuahua.
“Is it okay if I just hang out and wait?” Mule asked, peering at her guardedly.
“Sure.”
Daphne walked to the window and glanced out. There was still no sign of any other human being, so she did a complete about-face. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket intending to call Luke, but then shoved it back in, unsure of what to do or say if he answered. Instead she started chomping on the nails of her index and middle fingers, and her right leg began quaking yet again.
“You okay?” Mule asked. Cradling the Funyuns in one arm, he slowly made his way to the couch, watching her the entire way.
“Yeah,” she said. Only it came out all quick and high-pitched—more of a yip than an actual word.
Mule gave a tiny shrug and plunked himself on the sofa, slouching down so that his long legs slid under the coffee table instead of banging up against it.
Daphne turned her focus on Mule, studying him as he watched TV and crunched Funyuns. He really was getting cuter. His skin had cleared up and his face had new angles and planes. Funny how she’d known him for so long, but she’d never really thought of him as a guy. Oh sure, she’d considered him a guylike creature, the way koalas were bearlike without being official bears, the way Cheez Whiz wasn’t actually cheese. But now she could see that he clearly was one.
Which probably meant he could decipher guy thoughts and actions.…
Daphne walked over to the couch and sat down beside him.
“Want some?” he asked, tilting the bag of Funyuns toward her.
She shook her head. “No thanks.”
“Smart,” Mule said. “These things are really bad for you. I once ate two big bags and almost OD’d. Woke up behind a Dumpster wearing roller skates and one of my auntie’s nightgowns.”
He paused, waiting for a reaction. She smiled politely but couldn’t manage a laugh. Not even the Pepe Le Pew cartoon on TV could make her giggle. And she loved Pepe Le Pew.
“Hey, Mule,” she said, waiting for his crunches to die down so he could hear her clearly. “If you really liked someone … I mean superliked … even loved … and you were pretty sure they felt the same way about you, but for some reason things weren’t … progressing.” She glanced up and met his eyes. “What would you do?”
Mule stopped chewing. His whole face seemed to lengthen. His eyebrows flew up and his mouth, sprinkled with yellow crumbs, hung down. “Seriously?” he said, after swallowing. “Are you pranking me or something?”
Daphne frowned. “No. Why?”
“It’s just …” He broke off and shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just weird that you would ask me advice on dating and stuff. You’ve had more success in that arena than I have.”
“I’m just trying to understand a guy’s point of view.”
“A guy’s view, huh?” He chuckled, only he didn’t seem
to be laughing at her. Instead, he stared right past her, out the front window. He looked almost sad. “You sure you want to know what I think?” he said, finding her gaze again.
Daphne nodded.
“Okay.” He lowered the bag of Funyuns and sat up straight. “Here’s the thing: guys are just as confused about what to do as girls are. They … We … are never really sure what’s expected of us.”
“So … if a guy isn’t making a move, it could mean he’s being polite and proper … or it could mean that he’s afraid the girl doesn’t feel the same way? That he’s afraid of making a big mistake?”
“Bingo,” he said, making a finger gun with his right hand. “That’s it exactly.”
“Huh.” Daphne stared at the nearby wall. Luke was such a gentleman, she’d assumed he was waiting a respectable amount of time before revealing his true feelings. But maybe he was just scared? She’d never considered that before. It was kind of sweet to think so. And it made her feel a little better.
“So what, exactly, are girls supposed to do?” she asked Mule. “How can we let guys know that it’s okay?”
“Any help is really appreciated. We like it when girls drop hints. You know, like neon signs, T-shirts with logos giving detailed instructions, heart-shaped tattoos with our names in them.”
Daphne’s eyes widened.
“Kidding,” he said. Mule’s lopsided grin faded and he stared thoughtfully into his bag of snacks. “Seriously, though, guys are so scared of doing the wrong thing they usually just do nothing. They can be pretty sure a girl likes them and then five seconds later talk themselves out of it. And being shot down is the worst feeling ever. They’d rather play it safe and wait until they’re totally one-hundred-percent sure she won’t run off screaming.”
Daphne considered this. Mule was right. It was girls like Lynette—girls who made it undeniably clear that they were interested—who landed guys so effortlessly. Perhaps Luke just didn’t want to offend Daphne by coming on too strong and was simply looking for a clear sign of what she wanted. She thought she’d already let him know with her hallway waves and phone calls and invitations to go bowling, but those might not have been obvious enough. And she’d been so swoony when he kissed her in the pharmacy that she hadn’t visibly reacted to it. Poor guy! She’d even turned down his suggestion that she go to Tracy’s party. She’d thought she was being patient and smart, that it was a test of Fate she had to endure to be with him. But what if he’d been the one testing her, to see if she liked him?
Walt’s words at the bowling alley echoed in her head. You shouldn’t waste your time.… You’ll see.…
She shifted to face Mule again. “So how long will a guy wait for a girl? I mean, what if, through no fault of her own, it’s sometimes hard for her to get away and see him?”
Mule scrunched up his nose. “You mean like Romeo and Juliet?”
Daphne laughed. “Yeah. Kind of like that. How long until the guy just gives up on her?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I guess most guys would think that if a girl was really into him, she’d find a way to be with him.”
Daphne took a deep breath. She could feel herself filling with a shaky resolve. No more waiting patiently. She had to do something to let Luke know she wanted him. Something romantic, but not too bold. Something within her range of skills. Something that no guy their age could refuse—other than sex.
She glanced over at Mule, who was still digging into the bag of Funyuns as if his body depended on the stuff. That gave her an idea.
“Stupid, pea-brained, pampered cretin!” Gabby stalked across the dewy grass to the rhythm of the words. “Stupid, lazy, thoughtless caveman!”
A few more muttered syllables and she reached the Applewhite house. She hesitated for a couple of seconds before mounting the porch steps. At least Mr. Applewhite’s Lexus and Mrs. Applewhite’s Mercedes coupe were gone. Only the prodigal son was home. The stupid coddled Neanderthal.
Gabby strode up to the front door and pounded on it with her fist. Then she rang the doorbell. After fifteen seconds passed with no response, she rang it again. She also pounded again, mainly because it felt good.
Eventually she heard some muffled thuds and Prentiss opened the door. He stood in front of her looking sleepy and surprised. His hair was all flattened against his head, except for two or three layers in the back that stood straight out like a rooster’s crest, and his face was puffy and inert. The only thing he had on was a pair of shorts—or maybe they were boxers. Gabby didn’t want to keep glancing at them to find out.
“Hey,” he said, blinking in the sunlight. He reached across his bare chest to scratch his left shoulder and Gabby forced her gaze back up to his eyes. “Sorry it took a while. I was sleeping.”
“Yes, well, I have to go to school,” she said. “Only I can’t get my car out of the driveway.”
Prentiss squinted in the direction of their house. “Really? It won’t start?”
“It starts fine. But it appears that someone has blocked me in with their Mustang.”
She patiently waited the two seconds for him to process this.
“Oh. Right. I’m sorry. I’m still not used to y’all living here.”
“Yes, well … we do. Unfortunately.”
She wasn’t sure if he heard her. He stepped away from the doorway for a moment and returned wearing a brown leather jacket and flip-flops.
“Don’t worry. I’ll move it out of your way in a jiffy,” he said, smiling at her. He tossed a wad of keys into the air and caught them with his right hand.
Gabby scowled. How dare he make it sound as if he were doing her a favor. If it weren’t for him, she could have left six minutes ago.
He shut the door and headed down the same dewy path she’d traveled on the way up to the house.
“Gonna be a nice one,” he said, grinning up at the sky. His pleasantness irked her. She’d expected him to be horrified and extra-apologetic at the way he’d inconvenienced her. Instead, he was acting as if they were on a friendly stroll, picking dandelions and looking for pictures in the clouds.
But of course he would act this way. Because he was do-no-wrong boy. Prince Prentiss of Barton had his own traffic rules and everything.
“So how are you guys liking the place?” he asked.
“It’s fine.”
“That new paint working out for you?”
Damn, that boy was proud of the paint. “Yes.”
“I always knew there was potential for that little place,” he said, nodding along in agreement with himself. “I always told my mom that—”
“Look,” she interrupted. “I’m tired—as are you, I’m sure, considering you just woke up and all, no doubt after a hard night—and I’m really not in the mood for conversation. Plus, I have a hugely important physics test in exactly”—she paused to check her watch—“thirty-five minutes. So could you please just move the car?”
Prentiss gaped at her with that blank, openmouthed expression she’d come to know so well. Then he shook his head and chuckled slightly. “You know,” he said, staring off toward the peach-colored haze in the eastern sky, “I don’t understand it.”
“Understand what?” she asked, unable to stop herself.
“How someone as pretty as you can be so darn grouchy all the time.”
He met her eyes again. She expected to see irritation, but instead, there was still a warmth to his gaze, only sadder and more distant. It was a look of pity. Prentiss Applewhite had the nerve to pity her?
But that wasn’t even the worst part.
What made it even more horrible was that up close, without his trademark dazzling smile and with his morning hair lying flat instead of in bristles, Prentiss looked like Sonny. Same blue eyes. Same worried wave in the eyebrows. Same indentation in his broad lower lip, like a tiny basin or fingerhold.
Gabby was so stunned by the realization that she came to a sudden halt, as if hit by a freeze ray. All she could do was stand there and
gape after Prentiss as he climbed into his car and reparked it farther up the driveway. Once he was done he carefully shut the door, wiped some dirt off the front left fender, and headed into the house without looking back.
God, she loathed that guy! She disliked him so much, it made her stupid. She hated how clueless and cheerful he was all the time, as if he had nothing to hide. She hated the way he smiled as if he had no worries at all.
But most of all, right at that second, she hated the way his calling her pretty had set off a tiny jet of warmth inside her, like those sparks that spray up when you poke the dying coals of a fire. A familiar warmth. The same warmth stirred up years ago, by Sonny.
Prentiss R. Applewhite could be even more dangerous than Gabby had originally feared.
Daphne stood in the nook at the end of a row of lockers and watched the passing stream of students. It was strange looking out at the crowd without them seeing her—like being invisible. But then … it had always been a little bit like this. These were her friends and neighbors, people she’d known her whole life, and yet she had to admit, she sometimes didn’t feel like she was one of them.
None of them truly saw her for who she was. Or if they did catch a glimpse, they sure didn’t like it. The boys called her a tease when she wouldn’t let them do more than kiss her. The girls called her a snob when she wouldn’t use crude language or text topless pics of herself to the basketball team to celebrate a big win. And they’d all made fun of her when she cried at the end of Romeo and Juliet in freshman English. Even her own mom and sister didn’t get her. Her dad did—he was an old-fashioned romantic, too—but he lived in San Antonio. That meant Luke was the only person in all of Barton who really understood and accepted the real Daphne. And this was why she was wedged up against the cinder-block wall waiting for him.
After talking with Mule, she’d realized she had to be more forward with Luke so he would know exactly how she felt about him. She wouldn’t resort to Lynette-like tactics, but she could at least do her best to spend more time with him and drop little hints here and there. Then he would feel secure enough to ask her out. And then their fairy-tale romance could finally begin.
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