by Vivi Barnes
“Maybe.”
My heart thudded harder. I had said it as a joke, but the possibility of him having a tattoo hiding somewhere was definitely…interesting. “You’re kidding,” I said, not liking how my voice cracked.
“Maybe,” he said again. “Just because we work together doesn’t mean you know everything about me.”
True. But I was ready to rectify that little problem. “What if I wanted to know more about you?” I challenged.
He tilted his head slightly to study me, his eyes suddenly wary. Not even the tiniest hint of a smile. Did he not trust me? Crap, and here I thought he wanted to ask me out before. Maybe I was wrong.
At that moment, the side door to the bar opened. A bearded guy wearing a black Cooper’s shirt emerged carrying a bag of trash, which he threw into the bin next to us. “Getting busy in there, Grayson,” he said gruffly. He looked at me, then turned back to the bar.
“I’ve got to get inside,” Noah said as the guy disappeared. “You promised you wouldn’t say anything, right? Not even to your friends?” he asked. “Other than them.” He nodded at Syd and Court, who were still watching us from afar like we were part of some reality show. “I’m guessing they figured it out.”
My heart sank. All he cared about was me not telling anyone that he worked at this bar. He didn’t have any response to what I said about getting to know him better. He didn’t even look interested, just cautious. “Of course I won’t say anything,” I said, trying to keep my voice light. “Neither will they. But you better give me the full scoop later, okay?” His eyebrows pinched at that. I quickly added, “About the job, I mean.”
His face relaxed. “Oh. Yeah, sure. You got it. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I nodded. “My shift starts at ten.”
I watched him head toward the bar’s side door, and when he turned back to wave at me, I dropped my gaze quickly like I’d been caught staring at his butt. Okay, so maybe I was staring. “Get a grip, it’s Noah Grayson,” I muttered to myself. “Just a good buddy who apparently wants to remain that way.” I turned back to my friends.
“What was that all about?” Court asked, her face awed.
I rubbed my eyes, suddenly very tired. This was the longest day ever. “Nothing. Can we just go home?”
“No, I want to know. Who is that guy?”
I stared at her. We weren’t standing that far away—couldn’t she tell that was Noah?
Then I remembered that I had spoken with the guy a few times my first day at SmartMart and hadn’t even recognized him. Talk about clueless.
“I already told you,” Syd said to Court. “That guy just works with Lex at SmartMart. I guess he bartends here part-time, too.” She raised an eyebrow at me and I nodded. “Anyway, let’s go. I’m so freaking tired. Are we going shopping tomorrow, by the way?”
That caught Court’s attention. “Yeah, I need some new jeans and a phone case—mine’s beat up.”
Syd winked at me conspiratorially as Court went on about things she needed to buy. I smiled halfheartedly at her. I knew Syd still had reservations about the whole thing, though what that “whole thing” was, I had no idea. Noah’s only reaction to me saying I wanted to get to know him was suspicion and a total lack of enthusiasm. I guess Syd thought that telling Court about Noah and risking her running to Bryce with the news would threaten what Noah and I had.
Which was absolutely nothing at all.
16
At SmartMart the next day, the display on the time clock showed that I was ten minutes early for my shift. Mr. Hanson didn’t like us clocking in more than a couple minutes before our scheduled shift, since he said it added up to too much overtime. I went to the bulletin board to check out my rotation. Today I would be on the floor with Carolyn as the manager. And, of course, my hour in the stupid bathroom was penciled in. Lovely.
“Lexus!” Ruthie’s voice sang out. She went into her usual chatter about her father’s Lexus. Remembering Noah’s story about her father, I turned and smiled as big as I could.
“Hi, Ruthie!”
Her eyes lit up, and it occurred to me to wonder if Ruthie knew I had been less than enthusiastic about seeing her before. I hoped not.
“Where are you working today?” she asked. “Are you with me at the door?”
“No, I’m in the grocery section.” Her face fell. I added, “I’d much rather work with you at the door.” That made her grin again. It was so easy to make her happy. But it was true, too. I’d take the Cart Game over working the sales floor under Carolyn’s supervision. I walked with her back to the time clock.
“Me, too! Okay, I’m going on break. See you later,” she sang, typing in her code and walking to the break room.
Bessie appeared from around the corner. “That was sweet of you, Alexis,” she said quietly. She reminded me of the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio who granted wishes when you did something right.
“What was sweet?”
“You and Ruthie. You’ve really taken to her, just like everyone else.”
“Yeah, I guess I have.”
“You’ve got a good heart. I know Noah thinks so.”
My heart fluttered at that. “Noah?”
“Yes. I can tell about you two, and just so you know, I give you my full stamp of approval.” She winked at me.
“We’re just friends,” I said. The worst part was that it sounded like an excuse, and it really wasn’t.
“I’m sure.” She smiled, then glanced at the clock. “What time does your shift start?”
I looked down—I was now three minutes late. “Crud.” I punched in my numbers quickly.
“Don’t worry about it. You’re already on bathroom detail—I don’t think they’ll punish you further.” Bessie walked off, whistling happily. I had to admit, there was something about Bessie’s wit and kindness that did remind me of my grandma. It made me want to hug her and throw things at the same time. How unfair was life to take someone as wonderful and loved as my grandma and destroy her mind? Life could really suck.
On the floor, I found Carolyn sorting out cans of tuna. “You’ve been trained in Grocery,” she said in her scratchy voice. “You should know what to do. Come bother me if you have real issues.”
I moved to the back of the store, as far from her as I could get, and started organizing the soda bottles.
“Hey, there,” Noah said next to me. I jumped at the sound of his voice and dropped a two-liter bottle of soda on my foot.
“Owww! Shit!” I cried out, ignoring the look of disgust from a passing shopper.
“Oh, jeez, I’m sorry,” he said, picking up the bottle and setting it on the shelf. “Are you okay?”
I wiggled my toes in my shoe. Not broken. “I think so. Warn me if you’re coming up behind me like that.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
His lips pursed nervously as his hand moved to fiddle with something on the shelf. I couldn’t help but remember how he looked last night—so confident. It was strange now—like talking to Clark Kent after finding out he’s actually Superman.
A customer walked up to him to ask about yogurt, so I moved over one aisle to the paper products section. A few minutes later, Noah appeared, taking care to warn me in a loud, exaggerated whisper before he got too close. I whipped around with a couple packages of toilet paper in my arms and tossed them at him. “Think fast!” He smiled and put the packages on the shelf. I thought about setting up the packages for bowling, but I had a feeling Noah wouldn’t be up for it. There was a tightness around his eyes that wasn’t there before I saw him at the bar.
For a few minutes, he helped me organize the shelves, which weren’t that disorganized in the first place. I couldn’t get that strange look of his last night out of my head when I suggested I’d like to get to know him. Why was he hanging around me? Unless he was trying to be BFFs or something. I had Bryce and Syd—I wasn’t really looking for another BFF. But I’d take friends over nothing.
I finally turned to him. “I clearly
remember Carolyn being scheduled as the manager on duty for this section.”
He smiled slightly, but his eyes were serious. “I wanted to talk about last night,” he said, his voice not exactly quiet. A guy walking nearby snickered at that. Noah’s face reddened. “Sorry, I mean, um…”
“I get it, okay?” I looked around, but the guy had already turned out of the aisle. “You have my number. You can call me later.” Because that’s what BFFs do, right?
“You have your game still, right?”
“Yeah. Are you coming?”
He nodded. “Yeah. If that’s still okay.”
I bit my lip. If he came to the game, Bryce would see him. Visions of Bryce chasing Noah around the field with a baseball bat were already haunting me. Did I really want to tempt fate? Although it might be easier to explain being “just friends” to Bryce than if Noah and I were actually more.
“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to,” he said quickly.
“No, I want you to. It’s just…the games are kind of boring.”
“Boring?” He frowned. “That’s not it, is it?”
Bryce will be there and will want to kick your ass. Everyone you hate will probably be there. I don’t want to cause open season on you.
Nothing I could say would fix this, so I put on my brightest smile and said, “I want you to be there. Definitely.”
He nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. “Okay. Seven o’clock, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need a ride?”
I shook my head. “I have one, but thanks.”
Noah nodded again and walked away. It was almost funny that my initial worries about working at SmartMart were about being considered a freak, like the oily-haired lady who just ripped open the toilet paper package to rub her face on the tissue. Gross. I turned my back on her and went to the next aisle. Now I had to worry about this, too. But then, as Grandma said, it was everyone else’s problem with Noah, not mine.
17
I didn’t see Noah at my game, though I did think I spotted his old SUV at one point, but I couldn’t find him in the stands. I did get a text from him that evening: Great game.
Great game? So he was there. I didn’t see you in the stands.
I was on the other side.
Oh. Thanks. Knowing he was there, watching me play, made my heartbeat skip a little faster, even if it was just a friend thing. Maybe by sitting on the other side he was avoiding trouble with Bryce, who was sitting in the stands. I didn’t know.
Sunday was the Fourth of July. I spent the morning hanging at the house with my grandma, who seemed fine except for when she forgot where she put something, and once it looked like she was going to make tea but changed her mind and left the stove on. I found out and quickly shut it off before my parents realized it.
In the afternoon, I went to the beach with a bunch of friends. We played volleyball in the sand and grilled hot dogs and went swimming, and the entire time I tried not to notice the feeling that something was missing. I wanted Noah here with me. I wanted to lie next to him on the sand and talk about life and freaky SmartMart shoppers and anything that made us laugh. And maybe he’d see that I wasn’t just an employee or a friend, because the longer I thought about it, the more I let my thoughts entertain what it’d be like to be more.
I wasn’t scheduled at SmartMart until Tuesday, so Bryce and I spent Monday morning practicing at the field. Coach had asked him if he could help Maggie pitch, too, but Bryce told him he didn’t have time. I knew he only said that for my sake.
“Don’t worry about Maggie,” he said as he slipped the glove over his hand. “She’s nowhere near as good as you, and Coach Santiago knows it. Seriously, she can’t even throw a fast pitch.”
I smiled at him. I didn’t think Maggie was as bad as that, but I appreciated his support anyway. “Thanks, Bryce.”
“How’s SmartFart going now? Any better?”
“A little better, yeah.”
“So my mom and I were there last night and guess who I saw?”
“Who?”
“That douchebag, Noah Grayson.”
My throat went dry as Bryce frowned at me. “Why didn’t you tell me he was working there?”
I shrugged. “Not a big deal. He’s one of the managers. Did you, um, talk to him?” I knew my voice shook a little, but Bryce didn’t seem to notice. He tossed the ball into the air and hit it with his bat.
“Hell no. I was tempted to knock over that display of cereal he was working on, though.” He chuckled.
Seriously? I loved Bryce, but really? The mental image of Noah scrambling to pick up cereal boxes while Bryce laughed on the side was too much. “Real mature, Bryce. Yeah, and before you open your mouth, I know he ratted you out in ninth grade. But oh my God, that was two years ago. When are you going to get over it?”
Bryce’s arms dropped to his sides, the bat hitting the ground with a thud. “Are you serious? You think I should forgive this guy for screwing up my life? Did you know Coach didn’t even know about the spray-painting until he went and told? It wasn’t like they were torturing him or giving him an ultimatum. He didn’t have to do it. He just did.”
Bryce’s face was red now—jeez, any mention of Noah really set him off. I didn’t want to argue with him—especially considering he was using his own time to help me pitch. “Okay, okay. Forget I said anything.”
His eyes narrowed as he stared at me. “You don’t talk to him, do you?”
I tossed the ball I was holding into the air. Catch, toss, repeat. “He’s a manager. I have to talk to him sometimes.”
“But you don’t hang out with him at work?”
I laughed nervously. “No.”
Technically, I hung out with Noah on break, not during working hours. It was crappy justification, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell Bryce we were friends. Not with the way he was acting—all tense and annoyed. Why make things harder for all three of us?
But the better, decent part of me felt like I just ran Noah over with a semi. I completely played off our friendship like it meant nothing. Maybe Noah had good reason not to want to be more than friends with me.
The rest of the week at work was okay. Noah and I even joked here or there about some of the weird SmartMart customers who came into the store, but the guilt ate at me for not telling Bryce we were friends. I tried to avoid being around him whenever I could. It just hurt too much. The whole thing sucked, honestly, because the one thing SmartMart had going for it before was that I was able to talk and flirt with Noah. But since he had no interest in going out with me, and since I made it clear to Bryce that I barely talked to the guy, we were doomed to remain in the Friend Zone. It wasn’t that long ago that I actually hoped he’d stay there.
Talk about irony.
Grandma shook her head when I told her about the whole situation. “You’re playing with fire by keeping all this secret, my girl. Sooner or later it’ll blow up in your face. The trick now is to figure out how to balance your relationships going forward.”
“There is no relationship with Noah, Grandma. Not like that. I mean, we’re friends—just friends.”
“Really?” she asked, looking directly into my eyes and making me blush. “Exactly. Honey, you ain’t fooling me. You can’t just close yourself off to someone because of what other people think. Hearts don’t work that way.”
“Hearts?”
“Yes, hearts. Our hearts connect with others all the time, the electricity zipping and zapping all over the place. We can’t even sense it most of the time, but then we meet The One, and the beat changes ever so slightly to match theirs. That’s what they call a match—when the music inside your chest beats in synchronization with the one you’re meant to be with. You’ll know when it happens.”
I waited, but she didn’t say anything else. “When what happens?” I finally asked.
“True love.” She winked and chucked me under the chin gently. “You’ll see.”
True
love? I smiled and pretended to get it, but honestly, Grandma had such a hippie view of things that I wasn’t always sure what she was talking about. No way was I in love with Noah—definitely not. Probably not, anyway.
Friday morning, I woke up almost wishing I were scheduled at SmartMart. It was the only way I could’ve gotten out of the next two days at the Coastal Princess Pageant. It was six a.m., way too early to be awake, in my opinion.
My dad was already downstairs making coffee for himself and my mother, who was running around the house like a bat out of hell. I raised an eyebrow at the pancakes on the griddle. He smiled. “I feel kind of bad that I’m not going with you, so I thought I’d make you girls some breakfast,” he said.
“You feel bad?” I asked skeptically. “Really?”
He winked. “Chocolate chips?”
I nodded and watched as he poured a liberal amount of chocolate pieces into the batter. Rory walked in and squealed when she saw the pancakes.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she said, hugging him around the waist. I stifled a giggle at her pre-pageant “look,” complete with hair rolled in thick foam curlers and pink fluffy bathrobe. She looked like a tiny version of the crazy cat lady who visited SmartMart every Sunday morning to load her shopping cart with cat food.
Grandma was in the kitchen, too, sitting at the breakfast table with a newspaper in front of her. She wasn’t reading it, though, just staring out of the window, her mouth parted slightly. She was wearing her heavy robe, too, which wasn’t like her in the summertime. My heart leaped into my throat.
“Good morning, Grandma,” I choked out. She didn’t turn her gaze from the window. I slipped into the seat next to her, wondering what I could say or do to bring her back. I sifted through various memories to find something to trigger her mind. Dad had told me it might help.
“How long do you think he’s going to keep that up?” she said finally.
I followed her gaze. Mr. McCarthy across the street was watering the sidewalk as he gaped at the fancy red car that was parked on the street.
