by Chris Cannon
“You like this guy?” Dad grabbed the torch he’d set on the ground and we headed toward the house.
What could I say? I’d blackmailed Bryce into being my boyfriend to salvage my reputation and hopefully counteract my brothers’ constant interference? That would go over well. I hated lying to my father, so I didn’t. “I like him when he’s being nice but sometimes, he’s a jerk.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
“Dad.” I punched him on the arm.
“What? I remember what I was like at his age and that scares the hell out of me.”
I laughed.
The sound of tires on gravel made me turn around. Had Bryce remembered we were supposed to go to for pizza? Of course not. My mom parked her Jeep, and met us on the porch.
“Did you have a good day?” she asked my dad.
“Haley had an interesting day.” Dad leaned over and kissed her. “I’m going to shower. Haley can catch you up, and then we’ll talk about it at dinner.”
Mom headed into the house and I followed.
“Interesting good, or interesting bad?” she asked.
I thought about that question while I washed my hands. “Both, I guess.”
“You can put the rolls on the table, and then fix the salad.” She opened the cabinet above the stove and handed me a large glass bowl.
I dumped the dollar rolls in a basket on the table, grabbed a knife, cut open the bag of salad greens, and dumped that in the glass bowl. I washed a container of cherry tomatoes and added them to the salad, popping a few in my mouth as I worked. I loved the way they exploded when you bit down. Way more fun than normal tomatoes.
Mom prepared the chicken breasts. “And does this story have anything to do with the cute guy in the Mustang who passed me on the driveway?”
“Yes.” I filled her in on the events of the day.
She put the chicken breasts under the broiler. “Bryce Colton…that last name sounds familiar. Is his dad the guy who’s always posing for pictures with the mayor?”
“Probably.” Where was she was going with this? The savory scent of garlic filled the air. My stomach growled.
Mom stood by the oven, with her back to me, fiddling with the timer. “When I went to school, the standard belief was rich boys only dated middle-class girls for one reason.”
“People still say that.” I wanted to tell her the truth. She didn’t need to worry about Bryce using me for sex, because he wasn’t attracted to small-breasted girls.
The timer beeped. Mom pursed her lips and stared at me. “Smart girls do stupid things in the name of love. You need to be careful. One wrong decision now could screw up your whole life.”
“Excuse me?”
“Haley…you are being careful, aren’t you?”
And then I realized what she was saying. “Just because he’s rich you assume I’m sleeping with him?”
“Haley, I’m serious. A boy like that, he’ll never be interested in a girl like you. The world doesn’t work that way.”
What the hell? “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom.”
I grabbed two rolls and headed for my room. She called after me, but I ignored her.
After locking my bedroom door, I scarfed down a roll and dialed Jane. When she answered, I launched into the sad tale of my car’s defacement and finished with my mom’s speech.
“Wow, you had a busy afternoon.”
“I know, and dating Bryce was supposed to keep people from calling me a slut, not make some psycho paint it on my car.”
“Tell you what. My cousin works at Mike’s Auto Body. I’ll meet you there tomorrow morning before school. You can leave your car, and they’ll give you a quote.”
I hung up the phone. Someone knocked on my door.
“Who is it?”
“Us,” said my brothers in unison. Sometimes the whole twin thing was creepy.
I opened the door. “What’s up?”
“Sorry about your car,” Matt said.
“Sorry I was a dick about it on the phone,” Charlie added.
“Thank you.”
“You’re not driving it to school tomorrow, are you?” Matt asked.
Since they both drove motorcycles, they were no help, but it was nice that they were concerned. “No. I’m dropping it off at the auto-body shop and Jane is going to give me a ride.”
“Good. Remember, we’re here to punch Bryce when you need us,” Charlie said.
…
Jane took the turn into the school parking lot on two wheels. I gripped my backpack like it was a flotation device. She spun the steering wheel 360 degrees to the left, and shoehorned her Honda Accord between two giant trucks.
This was the reason I insisted on driving myself to school every day.
“So where do you stand with Bryce?” Jane flipped down her visor mirror to apply strawberry lip gloss.
The clock on the dashboard showed we had twenty minutes until homeroom. I flipped down my visor and checked my hair. “I don’t know. He was great last night, but maybe he just felt guilty since he thought Brittney vandalized my car.”
“So what’s the plan for today?”
“Girlfriends hang out with their boyfriends before school, so that is what I am going to do and you’re coming with me.”
…
Bryce and Nathan were standing by their lockers just like yesterday. I walked up to my fake boyfriend, smiled at him, and grabbed his hand. “Good morning.”
Jane stood off to the side of Nathan looking at something on her phone.
“What are you doing?” Bryce asked looking down at our hands.
“Acting like your girlfriend. That’s the plan, remember?”
Nathan turned around and buried his head in his locker. Jane continued playing with her phone.
“Does Nathan think playing ostrich will make him invisible?”
Bryce laughed. “Maybe.”
“It’s not like Jane is throwing herself at him,” I commented.
“I can hear you,” Jane muttered. “And no I’m not. Chill out, Nathan, I’m playing the friend of a girl who has a boyfriend, not a stalker.”
“Good to know.” Nathan turned around and pulled out his own phone.
Now that we all knew what part we were playing, I had a question. “Bryce, why didn’t you offer to give me a ride today?”
He seemed genuinely confused. “Why would I?”
“Because your ex trashed my car.”
“Your car isn’t trashed, and you made it to school just fine.”
“Well, Jane can’t give me a ride home.” I crossed my arms over my chest, tapped my foot, and waited. Technically, I wasn’t lying. Jane couldn’t give me a ride home, because I needed to go to the shelter this afternoon.
The fact that Bryce didn’t step up and offer a ride ticked me off. “You’re giving me a ride to the animal shelter after school.”
His eyes narrowed. “Girlfriend or not,” he emphasized the not, “you don’t give me orders.”
“Nice guy, or not,” I emphasized the negative right back at him. “I need a ride and it’s your fault my car is in the shop.”
The bell rang, warning us we needed to head for homeroom. To me it sounded like a bell signaling the end of round one.
…
I second-guessed myself all morning, wondering if I’d been too pushy with Bryce. By lunchtime, I decided to take a kinder, more gentle approach.
In the cafeteria, I bypassed the table where Jane and I normally sat and headed straight for Bryce. He and Nathan sat on the same side of the table, so they saw us coming. Nathan appeared amused. Bryce’s expression was somewhere between annoyed and surprised.
We plopped down in chairs opposite the guys, without a word.
“What are you doing?” Bryce asked.
From my brown paper lunch bag, I pulled out my standard bag of chips, an apple, and a turkey sandwich. “I’m engaging in the ritual known as eating lunch.”
Nathan presse
d his lips together and looked away. I could tell he was trying not to laugh. Bryce didn’t seem to think it was funny.
“I know what you’re doing. I meant why are you eating lunch here?” He tapped the laminate tabletop.
“Girlfriends eat lunch with their boyfriends.” I said this like it was part of the high school code of conduct.
Jane pulled two cupcakes from her lunch bag and passed one to Nathan.
Nathan eyed the vanilla cupcake with chocolate frosting and sprinkles. “Is this a bribe?”
Jane shrugged. “Maybe.”
“If I eat this, it doesn’t mean you’re my girlfriend.”
She bit into her cupcake and licked a bit of stray icing off her lower lip. “Whatever.”
“We’re joining you for lunch, because I wanted to talk to you, and this seemed like the easiest way to do that.”
“Fine. Talk.” He opened his lunch bag, a nice reusable one, removed a container of Chinese food, and dug in.
I cringed. “You’re eating that cold?”
“I like cold fried rice.”
“That’s just wrong.” He seemed unaffected by my opinion. “So, instead of telling you to give me a ride this morning, I should have asked if you could.”
Bryce ripped open a packet of soy sauce and poured it on his food.
I waited for him to agree that he should’ve asked if I needed a ride. He didn’t. “Hello.” I waved my hands in front of his face. “Don’t you have anything to say?”
He chewed, swallowed, and looked at me like I was being unreasonable. “While we’re at school I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend to keep the creepers away and convince guys you’re datable, but you have two older brothers and friends who go to this school. Why should it be my job to drive you anywhere?”
I sat back and looked at him in a new, less flattering, light. “First off, my brothers drive motorcycles, so I can’t catch a ride with them. Second, I never said it was your job, but it’s the decent thing to do.”
“I have a theory,” Jane said.
Oh, God.
“Due to your financial background and good looks, you have a skewed vision of how society works.” Jane reached into her lunch bag and pulled out two more cupcakes. “Here’s an example. It would be rude of me not to bring enough cupcakes to share.” She passed one to me and set one in front of Bryce. “If everyone committed random acts of cupcakes, the world would be a better place. Translated, that means stop being a tool and offer to drive Haley to the animal shelter after school.”
Bryce’s nostrils flared. I thought that only happened on TV. Apparently not. Maybe he wasn’t used to people calling him out on his behavior. I waited to see what would happen next. He pointed at me. “Fine. I’ll take you to the shelter tonight, but if you track dog shit into my car, I will kill you.”
I batted my eyelashes at him. “You say the most romantic things.”
Chapter Five
Haley
When I’m by myself, the drive to the animal shelter takes around twenty minutes. Riding to the animal shelter with a still-annoyed Bryce seemed to take days. He turned the radio up loud enough to make conversation impossible and didn’t look at me once.
If he’d been paying any attention to me, I would’ve told him how to avoid the worst of the potholes in the makeshift parking lot outside the shelter but, since he’d tuned me out, his car hit what I refer to as the Grand Canyon of potholes with bone-jarring force.
He slammed on the brakes, smacked the power button to turn the radio off, and said, “This lot should be condemned.”
I held my hands up in surrender. “If you’d spoken to me on the way over, I would’ve told you it’s better to park in back of the shelter.”
The parking lot in back of the shelter was as crappy as the one in front, but he didn’t know that, and he deserved a little grief. The building itself used to be a farmhouse, so the parking lot consisted of hard packed dirt, worn down and rutted from cars and rainstorms.
He blew out a breath. “I’ll remember that for next time. Have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Uhm…you know you’re supposed to take me home after this.”
“You never said that.” He checked the time on the dashboard. “I don’t think I can. I have putt-putt golf in an hour.”
“You play putt-putt golf? Seriously?”
He smiled. “I know it sounds ridiculous. My mother is on the board at Haven House. We take a group of residents to play putt-putt golf every other week.”
Haven House was a group home for special needs adults who couldn’t live on their own. “That’s awesome, but it so doesn’t fit my image of you.”
“What, you’re the only person who can do something nice?”
“Point taken.” I held out my hand. “Give me your phone so I can call Jane.”
“You don’t have a phone?”
“My dad pays for our home phone and the business phones. He refuses to pay for any more. I’d rather spend my money on gas.”
He handed me his phone and I dialed. Jane answered on the third ring. After a quick conversation she agreed to pick me up in an hour. I handed him the phone and headed for my favorite part of the day. The minute I stepped inside, I was mobbed by meowing furballs. Hope Shelter was a free-range establishment. Once they were fixed and declawed, the cats had the run of the two front rooms.
After greeting me, half the cats ran to their bowls. Once they were fed, it was time to take care of the dogs. But first, I needed to change clothes. In the break room/kitchen I pulled on a pair of coveralls, ditched my shoes for a pair of ratty old tennis shoes, shoved a pair of gardening gloves in my pocket, and grabbed a bag of generic kibble.
As soon as I opened the back door, a herd of dogs stampeded my way, barking for their dinner.
“I know. You’re all starving.” This was an inside joke since some of our long-term patrons tended toward the chubby side. Inside the barn, I filled the food hopper attached to each kennel. The dogs ignored me in favor of the food, and I went outside to clean up doggy land mines. Gross, I know, but necessary. Using a scooper, I filled a Hefty bag with dog doo.
Then it was back to the break room, where I washed my hands, changed back into my clothes, washed my hands again, grabbed a soda from the fridge, and headed into the living room to pet cats. My favorite, an old tabby cat named Veronica, hopped on my lap when I sat. I ran my hand down her silky fur and her motor kicked on. After five minutes, she jumped off my lap to attack a ping-pong ball. I worked my way around the room petting any cat who’d come to me.
The front door swung open, and Deena, the seventy-three-year-old former flower child who owned the shelter, came in. “Haley, I didn’t know you were here. Where’s your car?”
“It’s in the shop. Someone dropped me off.”
“Did you clean the yard already?”
I nodded.
“Good. I have a box of donated dog toys in my trunk.”
Ten minutes later, we created instant happiness. Deena set the box on the ground, whistled, and the dogs came running. Caesar, a Doberman, stuck his head in the box first. He rooted around and pulled out a plush squeaky toy shaped like a squirrel. After the alpha male chose his toy, we tossed squeaky toys to the other dogs.
Tino, a Chihuahua, grabbed a toy snake bigger than himself and then play bowed at me. Taking the hint, I grabbed the end of the snake and tugged. After holding on for a minute, I let go and he trotted off, doing a doggy victory dance.
Deena held onto the end of two plush tug toys and worked at staying upright. “This has to be a great core workout. Maybe I could convince some of those people from the country club this is the newest rage.”
I couldn’t imagine Bryce or Nathan holding onto a dog-spit-soaked toy. Their loss.
Caesar trotted over to a beagle mix named Rolo and growled. This type of thing used to freak me out, but the dogs seemed to understand the pack system. Rolo dropped his toy and backed up a few steps. Caesar grabbed the toy and ran off
. Rolo lifted his front right leg and pointed at Caesar’s abandoned toy. When no one came over to argue ownership, he pounced on the toy and rolled in the dirt.
The sound of a car horn signaled my ride. Jane refuses to come inside the shelter because every time she does, she ends up taking home another cat. Her parents laid down the law after cat number four. If she brought another furry creature home, they’d take her car away. Which they paid for. Every month. Since Jane was an only child, her parents paid for her phone and her car. If only I didn’t have brothers.
After washing the dirt/dog-spit combo from my hands, I met Jane in the parking lot. She was bouncing in the driver’s seat.
I’d barely opened the door when she blurted out, “Nathan called me.”
This was unexpected. “What did he want?”
“He asked if I took requests. He wants chocolate cupcakes with white icing and no sprinkles.”
I fastened my seat belt and gripped the side of my seat as Jane took off in a cloud of dust. “He called to ask for cupcakes?”
She took a tire-squealing right turn. “He claims that’s why he called, but we talked for ten minutes. He asked about you and Bryce. I think he was trying to pump me for information. Bryce may have put him up to it, but we talked about other stuff.”
“That’s cool.” I filled her in on what I’d learned about Bryce playing putt-putt golf.
“Really?” Jane laughed. “I never would have guessed. He seems so uptight.”
“I know. Now it makes him seem more human. It was bad enough when he was just a hottie. Now he’s a sensitive hottie that does nice things for people.” I slumped in my seat and looked at the front of my plain black turtleneck. “And I’m an honor student who wears boring clothes.”
“There are these things called stores,” Jane said.
“Yes, and they expect you to pay for the clothes.”
“I know where we should go.” Instead of taking the road that led to my house, Jane took a sharp left and headed toward downtown.
“Where are you going?”
Jane wrenched the wheel left. We swerved in front of oncoming traffic cutting off a giant truck. I screamed and clutched at the dashboard. The guy in the truck laid on his horn and flipped Jane off.
