by Amber Garza
“Um…yeah…sure.” He pushes back from his desk. “Just give me a minute to grab my keys and stuff.”
“Okay.” I nod.
He stops in front of me. “Hads, I’m sorry that I’ve been so preoccupied this weekend.”
This weekend? How about every weekend that I’m here? I clamp my mouth shut to keep from blurting out what I’m thinking. Instead, I do exactly what he wants me to. “That’s fine, Dad. I like having time to myself.”
Dad smiles before brushing past me and making his way down the hallway. Satisfied that I eased his guilty conscience, I head back to my room to grab my things. Within a few minutes Dad is ready to go, and together we pile into his Mini Cooper. The ten minute ride back to Mom’s is quiet with only the sound of Dad’s oldies station playing faintly in the background. I marvel at how I never know what to say to my dad. Apparently he gets paid to listen to people talk, so his patients must not have the same issue I do. When I go to Paige’s house I have no problem talking with her dad. He’s always joking around and encouraging conversation. My dad is usually lost in his own thoughts, and he almost never jokes around. If he did, I think I would be shocked.
Dad turns the corner onto Mom’s street, and I notice the slight stiffening of his shoulders. Even though he’s never said anything, I can tell that Mom’s marriage to Rob bothers him. It’s funny to me, because the divorce was his idea. But I guess not wanting to be with someone doesn’t necessarily mean you want them to be with someone else. By the time he pulls into Mom’s driveway, the tension practically radiates off of him like the sun on a hot day.
“Thanks, Dad. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”
“Yeah, okay,” he answers absently.
I yank my purse off the ground and jump out of the car. Without meaning to, my gaze flits over to Tripp’s house. It’s quiet out front and the sidewalks are devoid of people. I try not to be disappointed. I mean, it’s not like I want to run into him again. Still, I can’t help but wonder what he’s up to today. And I do kind of like seeing Bruiser. I’ve always wanted a dog of my own, but Mom’s allergic.
Chastising myself for thinking about Tripp at all, I walk up the driveway toward the front door. The minute I step into the entryway I’m amazed at how clean and quiet it is. Ainsley and Adam’s toys aren’t littering the hallway, and there is no screaming or pounding of tiny feet.
“Hadley? Is that you?” Mom’s voice calls from the back bedroom.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I call back, praying I didn’t walk in on anything between her and Rob. That is seriously the last thing I need right now.
Gratefully, she pops out into the hallway, fully clothed. “You’re back early.”
I notice she doesn’t appear super surprised. “Yeah, I just had some things I needed to do here.”
She nears me, her eyes narrowed. “He didn’t have time for you, huh? Too busy burying himself in work. I swear Hadley, that man—”
“Mom,” I cut her off, not wanting to turn this into another dad bashing rant. I make it a point to never talk to either one them about the other. Shortly after they broke up I realized that if I did, I just became like the rope in a tug of war game, being pulled in two different directions. “He was fine. I just wanted to come home.”
“Oh, okay. Well, that’s nice.”
I maneuver around her, and head back to my room.
“That boy was looking for you.”
Freezing, my heart stops. I whirl around. “Tripp?”
She nods.
“He came here and asked for me?”
“Not exactly.” Mom smiles. “But he walked past a couple of times. I saw him through the window. When he got in front of our house he moved really slowly, and I could tell he was looking for you. I think he might have a little crush on my pretty girl.”
I wince at her choice of wording. I am so not a five year old anymore. Still, it’s sweet that she thinks I’m pretty. Even though she’s my mom and has to think that. “Mom, he wasn’t looking for me. Trust me on this one.” Heading back to my room, I think over Mom’s words. She has no idea how much I wish that were true, but Mom is clueless about what school is like for me. She was one of the popular girls when she was younger. She was a cheerleader, everyone liked her, and she dated all the football players. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I’m nothing like her — that I’m one of the nerds, the outcasts. Let her think what she wants, but I know the truth. Tripp wouldn’t even be talking to me unless he had an ulterior motive of some kind. And until I know what it is, I can’t let him get close enough to hurt me.
EIGHT
TRIPP
The early morning light glints off my windshield as I drive down the street. I squint to see past the bright sunshine. Reaching into my center console, I pull out a pair of sunglasses and put them on. Much better. I turn up the stereo and country music blares through the speakers. The further I drive away from my home, the more relaxed I start to feel. It’s like all the tension and uneasiness slips off my shoulders with each passing mile.
A few miles from school, I notice a familiar car following behind me. In the rearview mirror I catch sight of Hadley’s long brown hair as she drives the vehicle behind me. I slow down at a stop sign. There are no other cars around on this quiet suburban street, but I take my time. I wonder if she knows it’s me in front of her. If she does, it probably pisses her off. I get the feeling I’m not her favorite person in the world.
Chuckling to myself, I think about our last couple of encounters. I’ve never met a girl so immune to my charms before. Letting my foot off the gas, I roll forward. In my peripheral vision I think I see something dart out into the street, so I slow down a bit. When it seems that the coast is clear, I press on the gas again. Suddenly I hear a loud crack, and my body lurches forward. At first I think I must’ve hit whatever it was that I thought I saw crossing the street.
But then my gaze flickers to my rearview mirror. Hadley’s car is plastered to mine. She jumps out of her vehicle, a look of horror on her face. Great. An accident. Just what I need. Groaning, I shove open my car door and step out into the crisp morning air. Hadley is already pacing, her eyes moist and her lips quivering. It cuts to my heart. She’s wearing a tight long sleeved shirt, jeans, and a pair of black boots. It’s not her typical outfit, and my gaze lingers on her curves. Usually she hides them under baggy clothes, and at this moment I’m wondering why. She’s not super thin like Sonya, but my body responds to Hadley in a way it never does with Sonya.
“I know I told you that you could get me back, but I was really hoping you’d use the wad of paper I gave you instead of hitting my car,” I joke, and then instantly regret it when her face pales.
“Oh, my god. I can’t believe I hit your car,” she says in a whiny voice, so unlike the hard tone she’s used on me in the past. “I am so sorry. It’s just that I thought you went, and then I was changing the radio station.” She puts her head in her hands. “My mom is never going to let me drive her car again. She has lectured me endlessly about the importance of keeping my eyes on the road, and then the one time I don’t this is what happens.”
“Hey, hey, calm down,” I say in a soothing tone. I’ve never seen her like this. Her face is flushed, and her hands are shaking. She’s totally freaking out.
“I can’t calm down. I’ve been in an accident,” her voice rises.
I study the back of my car. “It’s fine. You barely scratched it. It’s really no big deal.”
“Really?” She peers up at me with a hopeful look. A breeze kicks up and a foreign scent lingers in the air. It’s sort of fruity, like watermelon maybe. But it’s subtle, not overpowering.
My pulse quickens. “Really.”
She nods, biting her lip. “So what do we do now? Aren’t we supposed to call the police or something?”
“Nah.” I wave away her words. What I really want to do is sweep her up into an embrace, but I keep my arms pinned to my sides. She doesn’t strike me as the touchy-feely type, a
nd I’m pretty sure if I hugged her she’d try to punch me or something. “Consider us even now.”
She gives me a disbelieving look. “This is so not the same thing.”
I shrug. “Some might argue that what I did was worse. I mean, your face is more valuable than a car, isn’t it?”
Hadley furrows her brows, like she’s trying to figure out what I’m up to. “Why are you being so nice about this?”
“Maybe I’m just a nicer guy than you think I am, Hadley.”
She snorts. “Yeah, or maybe you’re happy I hit your car because now Daddy’s gonna buy you a new one.”
Anger surges at her words. They couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, I’m sure I’ll pay dearly for her mistake. She has no idea what I’m sacrificing by letting her off the hook. Glaring at her, I step forward. “You really need to stop spouting off about things you know nothing about.” A car comes up behind us, a man in a business suit at the wheel. I wave him around us, and he speeds past without so much as a backward glance. When I return my attention back to Hadley, she's backing off, her expression softening.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” she says.
I give her a subtle nod. “We better get going. We’re already late for school. You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She lifts her head, making eye contact with me. “Thanks, Tripp.”
It’s the sweetest I’ve heard her sound before, and it pierces my heart. There’s vulnerability in her expression that hasn’t been present in our last few encounters. It causes my breath to hitch in my throat. My gaze lands on her glossy lips for a minute, and that’s when I realize where the watermelon scent is coming from. I imagine licking the sweet scent off of her lips.
I clear my throat. “No problem.”
“You’re sure your car’s fine?” she asks before I can turn away.
Walking forward, I run my fingertips along the edge of my bumper and hers. Dad will certainly notice the scratch on mine, and I know I’ll have to answer for it. Standing up, I force a brave smile. “Yep. Hardly even a scratch. No one will ever notice.”
The look of relief on her face makes my lie worth it, no matter what I have to endure because of it.
NINE
HADLEY
“Can you believe how excited everyone is about a stupid dance,” Paige says bitterly as we pass yet another poster in the school hallway about the fall dance tomorrow night. It flutters against the wall as the door at the end the hallway opens, letting in a gust of air.
“I know, right?” I blow out an annoyed breath.
“I’m sure it’s gonna be super boring. I mean, who wants to stand around in the sweaty gym wearing a god awful dress, listening to bad music and dancing with guys who have BO.”
I laugh at the picture Paige just drew and nudge her in the side. Paige always knows how to lift my spirits. “And don’t forget about the fruit punch.”
“Do people really drink that? I thought that was only in movies.”
I shrug. “Don’t know. I’ve never been to a school dance.”
Paige links arms with mine. “That’s because we’re too cool.”
I giggle. “Yes, that must be the reason no boys ask us out. It’s because we’re too cool.”
She glances over at me with a sure smile on her face. “It is true, Hads. You do know that it’s the nerds who rule the world, right? Just look around.” Paige spreads her arms out and my gaze sweeps the crowded hallway. “All those popular girls are going to end up marrying at eighteen, and have a gaggle of kids in their twenties. By the time they’re in their thirties they will be fat and lonely, and stuck at home while their husband is out with his secretary.”
I stifle a laugh, feeling bad that we’re talking this way about people. “That’s mean, Paige.”
“Mean, but true. This is the time of their lives. It’s all they have. You and I, on the other hand, still have our best years ahead of us.”
I hold my chin up, wishing I was as confident as Paige. Maybe it’s just because she has an older sibling and that’s given her a better perspective. If only I could be more like her. If only I didn’t care so much what people at this school thought of me. I try to keep my thoughts focused on the future and the idea that one day things won’t suck so bad.
Just when I’m feeling good, we round the corner and I practically walk straight into Tripp. My heart stutters in my chest and my palms clam up. I look up and catch his eye. He opens his mouth, and I think he might say something to me. Then Maverick slaps him in the upper arm and Tripp moves around me, not daring to make eye contact again.
He’s such a mystery to me. I remember how nice he was when I hit his car a couple mornings ago. His graciousness was so unexpected. I mean, I gave him the perfect ammo to humiliate me, and he didn’t even use it. I just hope he’s not planning to at a later date. Luckily, he was right. The damage to my car wasn’t bad at all. I just wiped the bumper clean, and Mom hasn’t even noticed.
Determined not to let his wishy-washy behavior bother me, I lower my gaze and continue walking forward. It’s not like I ever fooled myself into thinking that Tripp was really interested in me anyway. I was never dumb enough to fall for his nice act.
“And they’re going to have huge beer guts and spend all day sitting on the couch watching sports,” Paige says to me, stealing a quick glance at their backs.
I force a smile even though my stomach is in knots. How can Tripp seem so nice and sincere outside of school, but seem like such a jerk at school? Peering over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Tripp’s group heading down the opposite end of the hallway. Just when I’m about to turn back around, Tripp glances back too, and our eyes meet. Embarrassed that he caught me looking, I whip my head back around and face forward. My pulse quickening, I walk faster and try to keep my thoughts off of Tripp Bauer, even though I'm certain it's a losing battle.
“Alright.” Paige stops in front of her biology class. “Wish me luck. I think we’re dissecting frogs or something equally gross today.’
I giggle. “Good luck.”
“See you after school?”
“Yep.” I wave goodbye and then hurry a few doors down to my class. I slip inside and rush toward my desk in the back row, knowing that the bell will ring any second. Just when I almost reach it, I stumble over something on the ground. My body wavers and I worry that I’ll topple over. Much to my relief, I’m able to right myself and keep my balance. The bell peals, and I stiffen.
“Sit down, loser,” a girl’s voice calls out, and I hear a few giggles.
Face flaming, I lower myself into my chair. I dare a glance in the direction of the girl who spoke to me, and instantly recognize her as Sonya’s new best friend, Molly. Memories of freshman year crash over me, and I feel sick. As I pull the notebook out of my backpack, I think about what Paige said. I hope she’s right. I really hope things do get better after high school. It’s the reason I’ve never considered doing anything drastic. There was a girl in our school last year who tried to commit suicide because things were so bad. I felt sorry for her, and realized that she must not have had a friend like Paige to remind her that things would get better. I didn’t really know the girl, but I do remember she was a loner. The hope of things to come is what keeps me going. I just wish time would hurry up so I can get out of here.
On Saturday night I feel pretty down in the dumps. Not that I would ever admit it to anyone, but it kind of sucks to not be asked to the fall dance. As much as I spout off about the ridiculousness of it and how much I don’t want to go, it still stings that no boy deemed me worthy of asking. I mean, it’s not like only the popular girls go to the dance. There are nerdy girls who were asked. Sure it may have been by nerdy guys, but they seem okay with it. Not even a nerdy guy asked me. Apparently I’m not even good enough for them.
Rob and Mom are going out to dinner, and Paige is coming over to watch movies with me. Paige swears that our Saturday night will be so much better than going to the dance, but I
have my doubts.
I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to go. It might be kind of fun to buy a pretty dress and have my hair and makeup done. I imagine how romantic it would be to dance with a boy, even if it is in the school gymnasium. A few minutes after Mom and Rob leave Paige pulls up in our driveway. Abandoning my silly fantasies about the dance, I open the front door and walk outside. The air smells like damp asphalt and faintly of grass and flowers.
Paige hoists an overnight bag out of the front seat and steps out of the old minivan she drives. When Paige got her license, her mom finally shed her minivan and got a sports car. Too bad for Paige she had to inherit the “mom mobile” as she likes to call it.
“You brought a lot of stuff,” I say, taking in the bulging bag.
“I thought we could give each other make-overs.” Paige slams the car door shut with her hip.
“Oh, no,” I groan. “Last time we did that I ended up looking like a drag queen.”
“But a hot drag queen,” Paige points out.
As we make our way back up to the house, the sight of Tripp and Sonya walking down his driveway catches my attention. Sonya is wearing a short strapless dress, her hair tumbling down her back in large curls. Her heels are high, making her legs look even longer than usual. Tripp is wearing a tux, and his hand is tucked in Sonya’s as he ushers her to his car. Tripp’s mom flashes pictures of them as he opens the car door for Sonya. My chest tightens as if someone is sitting on it, and I struggle for breath. I think of all the awful things that Sonya’s done, and it angers me. Why should she be the one getting what she wants? It isn’t fair.
“Now, she looks like an ugly drag queen,” Paige says with a laugh.
