Paper or Plastic
Page 13
“I mean, it’s a car. Move on already.”
I laughed, my entire body relaxing in relief. She was still here. “It’s a pretty slick car, though, Grandma.” I poured syrup over the pancakes in front of me. “Are you staying home while we’re gone?” I asked Dad. Medicine or not, I knew he didn’t want Grandma to be alone.
“I can’t. I have a meeting this morning. Patty will be here in about an hour, though. She’ll stay with Grandma until I come home this afternoon.”
Grandma looked at me. “Where are you going?”
“Pageant, Grandma. Rory’s in it, remember?”
She waved a hand at me. “Oh yes. Yes, I remember. Are you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I tucked my hands under my chin with an exaggerated grin.
She laughed, which turned into a hacking cough. She took a drink of water and smiled at me. “Well, have fun.” She patted her hair. “I was quite the looker in my day, you know. I bet I could still win a crown or two.”
“I bet you could, too,” I said, kissing her cheek and noticing that she looked older this morning. Not that she had more wrinkles or gray hair, but there was something that seemed “gray” about her, like her skin had cooled from its usual peachy warmth. “You okay, Grandma?” I asked as she coughed again.
“Oh, sure. Just feeling a little under the weather, but I’m fine.”
My mother appeared then, carrying a big plastic bin through the kitchen on the way to the garage. “Alexis, help me carry Rory’s stuff to the car.”
I rolled my eyes at Grandma, who rolled them right back at me.
The rest of the morning was a whirlwind of preparation, with my mother at the center of it all. Grandma went up to her room during the worst of it. Even my dad, who’d been so happy earlier, looked stressed as my mother ran around the house like a maniac, packing up huge hairpieces, yelling at Rory to get her sparkly earrings, calling me to grab things for her. I threw a T-shirt and jeans into my overnight bag along with a toothbrush and hairbrush, and I was done.
“Break a leg,” Dad said to Rory as she moved through the kitchen with several stuffed animals crammed under her arms.
“Don’t say that,” my mother screeched at him. “This isn’t a theater production!”
His eyes widened comically and he held up his hands. “Sorry. What am I supposed to say?”
“Just wish her luck, Jackson. We’re in a hurry.” She pecked him on the cheek as she passed.
He gave Rory a big hug. “Knock ’em dead, kitten,” he whispered to her. Then he turned to me, his Cheshire Cat grin saying it all.
“Yeah, no kidding,” I responded.
He laughed and hugged me, too. “Good luck. I’m sure you’ll survive. Call me if you have any good stories to tell.”
I went upstairs to see Grandma before we left. She was sitting in her chair by the window, gazing out at the street. I leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Wish me luck,” I said.
She tilted her head, her eyebrows pinched in confusion. “For what?”
I sighed and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. “Nothing. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said.
It was enough for me. I went outside to join my mother and sister in the Tahoe. We were Coastal Princess Pageant–bound, on the road for the five-hour trip to Tallahassee.
We made it to the Marriott in Tallahassee by late afternoon, unloading all the bags and suitcases from the car onto one of the rolling carts. The lobby was big, with a chandelier hanging over the center like a crown. Strangely appropriate.
I recognized my mother’s all-important air as she checked in at the front desk. She was hard enough to deal with on a regular day. She was going to be impossible tomorrow. I found myself wishing that Noah were here to be annoyed with. I should’ve asked him if he was coming, though I had a feeling he was working. Working was a much better choice than listening to little girls and their mothers whine all weekend.
Our room was large enough, but by the time all Rory’s crap was unloaded—mostly by me under orders from Mom to move this box and that suitcase—I’d be lucky to find a spot to sleep. I felt like Cinderella without the fireplace or the promise of a fabulous ball. My mom started unraveling Rory’s curlers for some welcome reception that was to take place after dinner. The idea of hanging out in the room with Rory’s whining and my mother’s demands was unthinkable. I escaped to go for a walk.
Even though it was only five o’clock, the hallways were full of heavily perfumed women with daughters who looked like normal kids now but by tomorrow would be decked out in full pageant regalia. Bellmen ran back and forth with carts loaded down with luggage, boxes, and bags of dresses, wigs, and makeup.
I leaned over the railing on the second floor to stare down into the lobby.
“Hey, Lex.”
I whipped around to see Noah and his sister walking toward me. Belle was wearing the cutest little sunflower dress and holding Noah’s hand. Noah was wearing jeans and a plain gray T-shirt, looking probably the most relaxed I’d ever seen him. My heart skipped a tiny beat to see him. Okay, so maybe it was more than a tiny beat.
“Hey,” I said. I crouched down to smile at Belle. “Hi, Belle!” Her sweet curls were as adorable as the last time I saw her. I hoped they weren’t going to stick some ugly wig on her head. “Remember me?”
She nodded and put her arms around my neck. I lifted her up and held her close, noticing that she smelled like sunshine.
Noah watched us. “She doesn’t usually go to people like that.”
I tilted my head forward and Belle did the same, resting her forehead against mine, her little nose touching mine. Had Rory been this adorable when she was three? I doubted it. “She probably remembers me from that dress store. When did you guys get here?”
“About fifteen minutes ago. My mom is in the room unpacking.”
“Yeah, mine, too. My dad was lucky enough to be able to stay home. Is your dad here?”
He frowned. “No.”
I rubbed my nose against Belle’s, making her giggle. “My mother and sister are sorting through wigs and stuff right now. I had to get out of there.”
I set Belle down, and she immediately ran off to peek into a big pot of yellow flowers.
Noah leaned against the balcony railing next to me. “Are we okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been kind of, I don’t know, quiet.”
“I’m fine,” I said, though in my head all I could think was how I lied to Bryce about him. Why did I have to be such a chicken, anyway?
He cleared his voice. “I’m sorry I haven’t been totally up-front with you about stuff. Like Cooper’s, and…well, other stuff.”
I finally looked at him. “Other stuff?”
His gaze cut over to me, but he didn’t offer anything more. What other stuff was he talking about? Of course, like he said, I didn’t know everything there was to know about him. He had seemed worried about me getting to know him, and at the time, I thought it was because he wasn’t interested in me that way. Now I wondered if it was for another reason altogether.
I turned to face him squarely, and though his eyes were on me, he kept his grip on the balcony railing. Not completely closed off to me, but almost. “Noah,” I said gently. “Why can’t you trust me? Talk to me.”
He stared at me for a long time, then finally released his grip to face me. He opened his mouth to speak.
And in the grand clichéd style of the worst movies ever made, my mother and sister showed up to completely annihilate the moment. Damn it.
“Alexis Jasmine, what are you doing out here?” my mother asked. “Come on, let’s go eat.” She turned back to the elevator and jabbed the button, her eyebrows raised at me expectantly.
I groaned as Noah smiled widely. “It’s not my fault she named me that, okay?”
He held up his hands, still smiling as I walked past to join my mother and Rory in the elev
ator.
“Hey, Lex,” Noah called. I turned around. “You going to be around after dinner?”
“Yeah. Meet you back here at eight o’clock?” I said the words as the elevator doors closed, so I didn’t even know if he heard me or agreed to it. My mother surprisingly didn’t say anything about Noah, though she arched her eyebrow at me. Grateful not to have to answer any questions, I stared out the glass of the elevator until we stopped on the first floor.
If my mother hadn’t barged in, I would still be there, talking to Noah. He was about to confide in me, I knew it. There was something up with that guy that had nothing to do with me. But then again, he did have Belle, so it’s not like we could really have a heart-to-heart while she was exploring all the flowerpots on the second-floor balcony.
Dinner was a buffet in the hotel’s restaurant that offered discount coupons to pageant participants. This translated into more than fifty obnoxious women and girls standing in line, each with an “I’m so above this” look on their faces. The look would only last until they reached the food, then they’d dig in like it was their last meal on earth. My favorite was the woman behind me who kept complaining that as the pageant coach for some kid named Shelby, she should be given priority access to the buffet. I pictured her dropping down from the ceiling Mission: Impossible style to scoop up the food before everyone else could get some.
“That’s Shelby’s coach,” Rory whispered excitedly. “I wonder if Shelby’s eating dinner here tonight.”
My mother turned a derisive look on the woman, who I hoped wasn’t looking back. “She’s probably getting her food for her, like a servant,” she whispered to me. She shook her head. “Divas.”
I snickered. My mother calling anyone else a diva was what I’d call ironic. But to her credit, she’d never ask to be given priority at a buffet. Some of these women made her look like a saint.
As soon as we were finished with dinner, I wandered aimlessly through the hotel, flicking at plant leaves and checking out the fish in the big lobby tank until eight o’clock finally arrived. I made my way up to the second floor and leaned over the railing.
It was only a couple minutes later when Noah leaned next to me, his arm almost brushing mine. “Hey.”
Friend zone or not, my heart still fluttered at his proximity. “Hey.” His hair was slightly damp and untidy, like he’d taken a shower and not bothered to brush it. Definitely a good look for him. “Where’s Belle?”
“She’s with my mom, getting ready for tomorrow.”
“Yeah, same with Rory. I didn’t see you in the restaurant.”
He shrugged. “My mom brought a cooler with cold chicken and fruit from home.”
“I bet it was a lot better than the food at the buffet.”
The lobby was still busy with people checking in, so we walked through the conference center, stopping to check out the ridiculously tall crowns and sparkly tiaras proudly displayed on a long table.
“Tomorrow’s going to suck,” I said.
“It’s going to be crazy here, that’s for sure.”
“I wonder if we stacked up all the tiaras and crowns, how long it’d take to knock them down with a bowling ball,” I mused.
Noah snorted. “I could knock them over with a baseball.”
“I could with a Wiffle Ball.”
We went back and forth until Noah won with a single piece of the worn conference hall carpet. It was a ridiculous game, but strangely hilarious at the same time. We were laughing so hard that the lady watching the table clicked her tongue at us in disapproval.
I grabbed his arm, enjoying the look of surprise on his face. “Come on, let’s see if they have anything in the store.”
The “store” was nothing more than a tiny gift shop. We idly sorted through shells, postcards, petrified alligator heads, and other “unique” Florida gifts that pretty much every store and gas station in the state carried. We each bought a soda and headed out to the pool. It wasn’t a very big area, but there were chairs around and only a couple people actually in the pool. The lounge chairs we chose were near the hot tub, the steam of the tub mixing with the damp in the humid summer evening. The silence between us became awkward, like Noah was trying to think of something to say that would explain his weird distance. Maybe I just needed to start somewhere less intense.
“So,” I said cheerfully, “how long have you worked at that creepy-ass Cooper’s?”
He laughed and threaded his hands behind his head to stare up at the darkening sky. “Cooper’s isn’t that bad of a place, actually. I applied there a few months ago after a customer at SmartMart told me about the job. He was a regular at Cooper’s and said the bartenders make really good money. He referred me to the bar owner.”
“Didn’t they check to see how old you are?”
“Um, yeah. I might’ve had one of my friends make me a fake ID. The manager barely looked at it, just scanned it in with my application.”
Ha! A fake ID—Noah wasn’t so perfect after all. “But why? I mean, you already have a job at SmartMart. And you could’ve gotten a job at a restaurant or store or something.”
His eyebrows dipped slightly. “Those places don’t pay anywhere near what Cooper’s does. We need the money. My dad…”
He didn’t finish. I didn’t ask, though now I was really curious. Was his dad laid off? Or maybe he didn’t make much money at all. And why would they do pageants if they didn’t have much money? Pageants were expensive—I knew because my dad was always complaining about it. But no way was I going to ask about that.
We sat for a moment without talking, watching a mother dry off her daughter and scoot her toward the exit gate as a man and woman stepped into the pool, holding hands. The woman squealed as the guy pulled her into the water.
“Anyway,” Noah said, swinging his legs around so he could sit facing me, “I don’t want anyone to know about Cooper’s. Mr. Hanson doesn’t even know.”
“Yeah, but you were wearing the T-shirt in plain sight.”
“Trust me, no one would think twice if they saw it. And no one I know would actually go there.”
“Does your mom know?”
“Yes. She doesn’t like it, but she doesn’t have much of a choice. We need the money. Thanks for not telling your friends, by the way. Especially Bryce.”
“What do you mean, especially Bryce?”
“Oh, please. Bryce would do anything to turn me in for something illegal. You know it’s true.”
Well, that one shut me up. He was probably right, though I still didn’t like him making that assumption. It wasn’t for him to call my friends out to me. “Look, I get why you don’t like Bryce, and I get why he doesn’t like you. But you make all these assumptions about everyone else, when you don’t even make an effort to get to know them. You sit in the library, hidden behind your stack of books, not talking or even looking at anyone. You think I haven’t seen you at school, but I have.”
“You think I want to be alone? You think that’s my choice?” He shook his head. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Then tell me,” I pleaded, sitting up to face him. We were so close that our knees bumped against each other. “You keep shutting me out, and I don’t know why, except maybe because I’m friends with Bryce.”
“That’s not why.” Noah sighed and stared at the pool. “But since we’re on the subject, tell me so I understand. What is so great about that guy?”
“Why should I tell you that? You’ll always look at him as your enemy, so why should I even bother?”
He didn’t answer, just stared at the pool. I cursed silently. I hated justifying my friendships to Noah—I didn’t owe him anything. But at the same time, I wasn’t doing Bryce any favors by staying quiet.
“Ever since middle school,” I started, my voice low, “Bryce has been there to help me with my pitch. I wouldn’t have made All-Stars without him. I wouldn’t have the chance at the Fastpitch tournament. He’s practiced with me almost every week since fore
ver. Without complaining. Not only that, Bryce was the only person who listened to my Olympic dreams and didn’t make fun of me.” As soon as the words were out, I wanted to pull them back. I didn’t talk about that anymore, to anyone.
Noah’s eyes widened. “Olympic dreams? You didn’t tell me about that.”
“Forget it.” I shook my head and stared out at the couple who were now starting to make out. Like that was what I wanted to see right now.
“Wait, hang on. What Olympic dreams? For softball?”
I peered over at him, but he didn’t look like he was on the verge of laughing or even feeling dumbfounded. He looked more awed than anything, which could’ve been a trick of the dim lights.
“Yes, for softball. And yes, I get that it’s not an Olympic event right now and there’s no guarantee that it’ll come back and that if anything I’ll probably end up coaching girls’ softball as best case scenario and I better have a back-up plan.” I rushed through the words as Noah slowly smiled. “So go ahead, it’s okay—everyone laughs about it.” Now that I thought about it, I didn’t really want to stay around for him to laugh about it. I was tired.
I got up to walk away, aware by the scraping of the pool chair that Noah was getting up as well. I kept walking, but Noah was faster. He slipped his hand around my wrist to stop me.
“Lex, I think it’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I stared up at him. Maybe he thought humoring me was the best way to get back on my good side. Damn it, if that was the case, it was working. His eyes were sincere, though, and the sincerity so intense that it sent a shiver through me. Noah of course would know nothing about softball or probably even how hard it would be to make Olympic trials if they did bring it back. But did that even matter?
Noah’s hand slid slowly down from my wrist to my hand, his fingers tucking gently through mine. “I think you’re amazing.”
His hand was warm, which I expected, and comfortable, which I didn’t. I guess I thought holding Noah’s hand would be like one of those awkward moments in church when you have to hold hands with the stranger next to you during the Lord’s Prayer and all you can focus on is not squirming.