I shrugged. “I feel like I should like him because he’s such a sweet guy, but . . . I don’t know, I just don’t feel any spark. Is that how it started with Nick?”
My borrowed shirt reappeared from the depths of Jill’s bag and she buttoned it over her tank top.
“Not really. There were definitely sparks between us right from the start. But I’ve heard a lot of people start off by just being friends. Maybe that’s the case with you two. Maybe you just need to give him a chance.”
I thought about that for a minute. I knew Jill really wanted me to have a boyfriend because she knew I felt left out, but maybe she had a point.
I sighed. “Okay, I’ll start thinking of him as boyfriend potential and see what happens.”
“Awesome! You have to call me and give me all the details after your date tomorrow—” Her phone buzzed and, as usual, she stopped midsentence to read her text. I hated when she did that; it made me feel like our conversation wasn’t as important as her ever-buzzing cell phone.
She smiled and giggled as she typed a response, and seemingly before she’d stopped typing, her phone buzzed again and the whole process started over. Some days I could ignore it and pretend like I didn’t care, but today I really wanted to talk, and I knew she would text forever if I didn’t do something.
I cleared my throat loudly and said, “Ahem . . . you were saying?”
She looked at me blankly, and then reality dawned and she said, “Oh, sorry. I was saying you have to give me all the details after your date with Jason tomorrow night. I can’t wait to hear how it goes.” Although she was talking to me, she was still texting, and I knew she was only putting half of her thought process into the conversation, so I tried for a subject that I knew would get her full attention.
“So, prom is only a few weeks away, you know. When are we going shopping for our dresses? I think I’ve finally saved enough to get a nice one.”
That did the trick. Jill put down her cell and said, “Really? That’s great! How much have you saved?”
“Exactly two hundred and forty seven dollars, and after my next paycheck I’ll have almost three hundred.”
“Eliza, that’s incredible! Your dad is gonna flip! I bet he’ll wish he never made you that promise.”
My parents insisted that I buy my own clothes, but they were a bit more understanding when it came to special occasions. Dad had promised that he would match however much money I saved for my prom dress. I couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when I revealed how much money I’d saved. Suddenly, I felt excited to get out there and find my dress.
“Why don’t we go tonight?” I suggested. “We could go to the mall and then see a movie or something.” I looked over at Jill hopefully, but as soon as I saw her expression, I knew she already had plans.
“Sorry, Liza, but Nick and I are going to a movie tonight.” Her face was pained. “You could totally come with us. It would be fun.” Even after all these months, she still insisted on offering me the pity invite. I wished she would stop doing that—for both our sakes.
“I thought your parents didn’t want you to go on single dates with him yet. What are you going to tell them?” I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice, but it was hard because I knew what she was about to say.
“Oh, I’m just going to say that we’re going in a group. I’m sure my mom won’t ask you about it—but you don’t mind covering for me if she does, do you?”
Actually I do mind, I felt like snapping. Jill was fifteen and her birthday wasn’t until July, so her parents didn’t want her dating yet. They had made an exception for prom (which my parents would never have done), but I think they were a little more lenient with her because they worried that if they were too strict she would rebel.
I pulled into Jill’s driveway and struggled with the clutch before putting the car in park. She grabbed her bag and looked at me, “So, do you want to come with us tonight?” Her phone buzzed in her hand.
“No, thanks. I think I’ll just hang out at home.” I felt my stomach twist at the thought. What was worse than spending a Friday night at home alone? I missed my best friend.
“Okay, well maybe I’ll stop by and see you at work tomorrow or something. See you later!” She waved, but she was already looking down at her cell phone and typing with her free hand. I backed out of the driveway and cranked up the radio to drown out my thoughts.
• • •
As I walked through the front door, I could hear the TV blasting in the other room. Courtney must be home. It was so unfair that she left for school after I did and she still got home before me! I peeked in the family room and saw her and her friend Alexis sprawled out on the sectional, watching a music video of a girl who looked around their age wearing a miniskirt and crooning about love as she stared seductively into the camera.
I tried not to laugh. What could a girl that age possibly know about love? I glanced at Courtney and wondered for a moment if she’d ever kissed a boy. It would be so embarrassing if my little sister kissed someone before I did. She was way too young to be kissing, but she was a cute girl, and I knew at least a few of the boys in the ward had crushes on her.
I envied her blonde hair and pretty brown eyes. When we were growing up, people commented on how adorable she was, and now that she was maturing, the compliment had changed from “adorable” to “beautiful.” It was hard for me not to feel like the ugly sister sometimes, but I liked having a little sister, and for the most part, we got along pretty well despite the three years between us. With a pang of guilt, I realized I didn’t talk to her as much as I should.
When she was younger, she used to drive me crazy with wanting to talk all the time and be involved in whatever I was doing, but lately she hung out with Alexis and didn’t seem to notice me. I reasoned this probably meant she was getting older and didn’t need me like she used to. She was probably doing just fine.
I headed to the kitchen to find a low-calorie snack. With effort, I bypassed the plate of freshly baked snickerdoodles Mom had left on the counter (man, she was not making things easy for me) and settled for some saltine crackers and a glass of water. Not wanting Mom to interrogate me about my eating habits, I took my snack and trudged upstairs to my bedroom.
I grabbed the MP3 player off my nightstand, put in the earbuds, and hit “love songs” on the playlist menu. I flung myself onto my bed and absently chewed at a dry cracker while I tried to think of Jason in a romantic way. But somehow my thoughts kept straying to someone else, someone with dark hair and amazing eyes . . .
I felt a tap on my leg and looked up to see Mom mouthing words, but all I could hear was, “mm es ol ooo aa?” I pulled an earbud from my ear and said, “What did you say?”
“I said, how was school today?” She smiled and sat down on the bed next to me.
“Oh. It was okay.”
“How was choir? Did you get to practice your solo?”
“No, we practiced a different song today.” Over and over and over.
“I went to the school today and bought our tickets for the concert. Dad and I can’t wait!”
The choir concert was next Friday and Saturday night, and I was nervous about it. I had tried out for one of the few solos and had been ecstatic when I’d gotten the part, but after the initial excitement I had been filled with anxiety and wondered what I’d gotten myself into. There were few things I dreaded more than being the center of attention. What if I messed up? What if my voice cracked right into the microphone? I wished Mom hadn’t brought it up; my stomach tied itself in knots just thinking about the possibilities for humiliation.
Mom saw the expression on my face and said, “Don’t worry, Liza. You have such a beautiful voice. It’s a gift you’ve been given, and you’ll do great.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Her words actually did make me feel better.
“So, what are your plans for this evening? Jill usually comes home with you after school. Are you heading over to her house later?”
I frowned. “No, she has other plans tonight.”
Mom’s face brightened, and she said cheerfully, “Great! We don’t get to see you much on the weekends. Courtney and Alexis wanted me to take them to a movie tonight. Why don’t you come with us?”
Yeah, that’s just what I wanted to do: go to a movie with my mom and little sister on a Friday night. But what were my other options? Sit at home moping with my crackers and love songs?
“Which movie are you going to?” I asked in a noncommittal tone.
“It’s an animated film, but it’s supposed to be really good.” I shot her a disbelieving look. “Okay, it’s the only one in the theater rated PG, but it does look cute.” I knew she added this last part to head off any protests I might make. I actually liked a lot of animated movies, but to be caught going to one with your family when you were in high school was social suicide.
At the moment, though, that was a risk I was willing to take. It hadn’t been the greatest day of my life, and the last thing I wanted to do was be stuck at home, alone and bored. I sighed and said, “Okay, what time are we going?”
Mom beamed as she got up and walked to the door. “The movie starts at seven thirty, but I thought we might get something to eat beforehand. Where do you want to go eat? Piccolo’s?”
Oh, no! She’d suggested my favorite restaurant nonchalantly, but she knew it was an offer I couldn’t refuse.
“Sounds great,” I said. I was defeated. When it came to those breadsticks, I was completely powerless. Mom’s face was triumphant as she waltzed out my bedroom door. I could hear her humming all the way down the hall. I had to admit it, the woman was good!
Chapter Three
That will be $12.50, please.” I took the man’s credit card and swiped it. It had been a slow Saturday afternoon, and I was grateful to finally have a customer. I handed him back his card and placed the wrapped box of chocolates in a bag. “I hope you and your wife have a nice anniversary,” I said. The man thanked me as he took the bag and then hurried off toward the jewelry store. I sighed and looked at my watch; only twenty-seven minutes until quitting time.
I worked at a candy shop in the mall called The Sweet Tooth, and because business was usually slow, I worked alone. I didn’t mind it, though, because my boss let me do my homework when I didn’t have customers. She even let me eat as much chocolate as I wanted, which was a definite perk (at least it was before I started my diet). The only drawback was the dorky red-and-white striped apron I had to wear, but if anyone from school walked by, I would duck down behind the counter and pretend to check inventory until they passed. All in all, it was a pretty good gig, and it was my ticket to a decent wardrobe—and hopefully a gorgeous prom dress!
The store bell rang and I looked up from my homework to see my boss, Cynthia, walking toward me.
“Oh, good, it’s you. I was afraid it might be someone from school,” I joked as I gestured toward my apron.
Cynthia laughed. She knew how much I hated the aprons. “Sorry, Eliza, but it’s good for business. It gives the shop an old-fashioned feel; people like that. Speaking of things that are good for business, the mall is now requiring that we be open for a few hours on Sundays. I’ll need you to take a Sunday shift at least once a month.”
I looked at Cynthia in surprise. One of the reasons I had taken this job was because I didn’t have to work Sundays, and she knew that. The look on her face told me that this was not negotiable, so I simply nodded and said, “Okay. I guess.”
“Thanks. I know it’s not what you want, but we all have to make sacrifices if this is going to work.” She looked at me apologetically, and I wondered why this wasn’t more upsetting to her. She was LDS too, but it almost seemed like she was excited about the prospect of better business instead of feeling bad about working on Sunday.
Oh, well, who was I to judge? I took off my apron and hung it on a peg in the back room. “Have a good night, Cynthia. I’ll be here Tuesday at five o’clock.”
“Thanks, Eliza. I’ll post the new schedule soon. Your first Sunday will be in two weeks.”
I nodded and walked out the door without saying anything. I knew my parents would hate having me work on Sundays and would probably want me to find a new job. But I really didn’t want to find another job, and with summer coming up there would be fewer openings around. What a pain. Maybe I could convince them that one Sunday a month wasn’t such a big deal.
• • •
I was in my bathroom using the flat iron to smooth out the last few strands of my hair when I heard the doorbell ring. I glanced at the clock: 6:45 exactly. Apparently, Jason had a thing for punctuality. I quickly finished my hair and spritzed it a few times with hairspray. After applying a final coat of my favorite pink shimmer lip gloss, I grabbed a stick of gum and ran down the stairs just as my dad was calling, “Eliza, Jason’s here!”
I entered the living room to see my parents on one couch and Jason on the other. He was sitting up very straight and seemed a little nervous, which was understandable because my dad was looking quite stern and fatherly at the moment. When Jason saw me, he stood up and smiled.
“Hi, Jason, sorry to keep you waiting,” I apologized.
“No problem. I was just getting to know your parents.” At this, he turned to them and said, “It was nice to meet you . . . and, uh, you guys have a really nice house.”
My mom smiled graciously. “Well, thank you! It was nice meeting you too. I hope you have fun tonight. Maybe you can give Eliza some bowling lessons.” She winked at me as I groaned.
Jason laughed and turned to me with raised eyebrows. “What’s this? You mean you’re not a pro bowler?”
I shrugged sheepishly. “For your sake I hope we’re not playing on teams.” I was neither athletic nor coordinated in any way, shape, or form—and that included rolling a ball on the floor.
Jason smiled in mock sympathy. “Don’t worry, we can always ask them to put up the bumpers when it’s your turn.”
I rolled my eyes and grumbled, “Gee, thanks.”
We headed for the door and my dad cleared his throat loudly and said in his most intimidating voice, “Please have Eliza home by eleven o’clock.”
Jason tensed as he turned around and said, “Sure thing, Mr. Moore.”
I felt sorry for him, so I took his arm and pulled him toward the door. “Bye, Dad,” I said, rolling my eyes a little. As I closed the door behind us, Jason gave a huge sigh of relief, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
He laughed too. “I can tell your dad really loves you.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way, and I felt a little less annoyed at my dad. “Thanks for being so nice about it. He’s really great, but he gets a bit carried away whenever I leave on a date.”
“Well, if I had a daughter as beautiful as you I’d be protective too.” He looked at me with that admiring expression again, and I realized with a slight tingle that I was still holding on to his arm. Trying not to be too obvious, I let go and walked toward the silver Chevy sedan parked at the curb.
“Is this your car?”
“No, it’s my brother’s, but he let me borrow it tonight. I’m saving up to get my own car. Not all of us are lucky enough to get cars on our sixteenth birthday.” He looked at me in mock severity as he opened the passenger side door for me.
“Hey, have you seen my car? If you have a couple hundred dollars I’ll be happy to sell it to you,” I said.
“I’m just kidding. I think it’s great your parents gave you a car, and I’m sure it’s worth more than a couple hundred. Hondas get awesome gas mileage.”
It was true; my car averaged forty-five miles per gallon, and I rarely had to fill it up. He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. I looked back at my house and saw Courtney and Alexis peeking out at us from Courtney’s bedroom window. I wondered briefly why Courtney hadn’t come down to meet Jason; she always used to be so fascinated whenever I was going on a date.
We drove for a few minutes in semi-aw
kward silence. Jason fumbled with the stereo, asking what kind of music I liked. I told him that I was pretty much good with anything, which seemed to make him flustered. He continued scanning through songs, and I worried that he would keep scanning forever in search of a song I liked, so I claimed to love the next song that came on. Jason smiled, and we both relaxed a little.
“Have you ever been to Luke’s house before?” he asked.
“No, I haven’t.” I couldn’t keep myself from asking, “Are you and Luke pretty good friends?”
Jason nodded. “Yeah, all of us guys on the team are.”
“Cool.” I tried to sound casual, but I had to force myself to keep from prying further.
It turned out Jason didn’t need further prodding, because the next thing he said was, “Yeah, he’s hanging out with Whitney Dawson tonight, and I’m pretty sure he’s going to ask her to prom. It would be cool if he did, because then they could be in our prom group. I told him he needs to ask someone soon because a girl needs time to find her dress, right?”
“Um . . . yeah.” Suddenly I felt sick. I’d been so bothered by Chelsea at lunch the day before, that I hadn’t even thought about Whitney. Luke liked her, and he was going to ask her out to the most important dance of the year—and I was going to have to watch. I knew asking about it would only cause me pain, but I had to find out more information. “So, Luke talks about Whitney a lot, huh?”
“Not really. He keeps his feelings to himself. He’s had a couple of girlfriends, but those relationships didn’t last very long. In fact, since I’ve known him, this is the first group date that he’s shown any interest in, so that’s why I encouraged him to ask Whitney to the dance.”
Invaluable Page 3
