Life in the No-Dating Zone

by Patricia B Tighe

  “Go away.”

  I zeroed in on her quiet voice. Just to the right behind the live oak tree. “Not until we talk. Your dad gave me five minutes.”

  “Traitor,” she mumbled.

  I smiled and walked toward the tree. She didn’t sound as mad as she’d been at Lindsey’s house. Though maybe it was more that she’d been hurt. That’s what I had to fix.

  Forty-Two

  Claire

  Gray was on his way. And there was nothing I could do about it. Oh, I could try to run into the house, but what was the point? He was here and determined to talk. So he could talk. I didn’t have to listen. I rested my head against the tree and shut my eyes.

  His steps rustled through the grass. Then came sounds of him sitting. The air around me seemed fuller somehow, as though the vacuum I’d been sitting in had been filled.

  “Hey,” he said in a low voice.

  I opened my eyes. He sat close, legs crossed, elbows resting on his knees. “Hey,” I said, trying to ignore how much I liked being so near him.

  “Why’d you run away?”

  “You’re the one who wants to talk. Say what you have to say.”

  “Okay.” He blew air out through his teeth. “First, I’m crazy about you.”

  My heart started to race. I reached behind my neck with one hand and held on. He was a liar. I had to remember that. I’d squeeze every time I was about to forget.

  He kept his gaze on his hands. “Second, I didn’t lie. When I asked you for help with Lindsey, I meant it. I had a crush on her. And like I told you at the park, I didn’t know her very well and it wasn’t until I was around her a lot that I realized we’d be horrible together.”

  I squeezed my neck, but it only felt like a massage, not a reminder. I needed to pinch harder. Give myself a wake-up call. He picked up my hand from my lap and ran his thumb across my knuckles. I couldn’t decide if I should yank it back or lace my fingers through his. I didn’t do either. I could feel my resolve slipping away as voices argued in my head. But he lied to you. He says he didn’t. Be quiet, he’s talking again.

  “Anyway, I didn’t figure out how much I liked you until yesterday, and I’ve been trying to tell you all day. But stuff kept happening and it never worked out. So I decided to do the big gesture thing for Lindsey and make it all about you. And I tried. It would’ve worked if Castro hadn’t come along. At least I think it would’ve.”

  He sounded so bummed I wanted to launch myself forward and cover him with kisses, but doubt made me hold back. “Then why did Lindsey sound like she knew something secret?”

  He looked at me, but the darkness hid his features. “How should I know? Can she read minds? You’d know better than I would.”

  “Ever since I first brought you around she’s been saying you liked me.”

  “Huh. Maybe she can predict the future.”

  A soft laugh escaped me. “Maybe.”

  “Look, I know we’ve got a lot to talk about … ” He ran a finger down my cheek, leaving a trail of tingles behind. “ … but I have about two more minutes, and if I don’t kiss you tonight, my head will explode. So, do you—or I mean, can I … ” He straightened. “What am I doing? I don’t even know if you like me back.” He groaned over his lap, holding his face in his hands. “I sound like a twelve-year-old.”

  Warmth filled me and I laughed. Part of me couldn’t believe my friend Gray was saying these things to me. Like it was too good to be true. The rest of me was ready—mostly—to tell him how I felt. My heart pounded as if I’d been chasing the Peterson kids through their house, but I ran my fingers through the softness of Gray’s hair. He sat up. “I like you back,” I whispered. “A lot.”

  Maybe it was because it was too dark to see his eyes to guess what he might do, but one second we were staring at each other and the next he’d pressed his lips against mine hard, the speed of it banging my head into the tree. “Ow!”

  He backed off. “Crap. Claire, I’m sorry.” He pulled me into a hug, rubbing the back of my head. “I’m an idiot. You just make me so crazy.”

  I giggled. I couldn’t help it. He was so sweet. And awkward. And Gray.

  He drew my face up and rested his forehead on mine. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Is there someone else out here?”

  He exhaled a laugh. “Very funny.”

  “One minute left,” I whispered.

  “Oh, right. I’ll be careful this time I pro—”

  I kissed him. Softly. Cautiously.

  “Claire,” he said through a loud breath, then took my face in his hands and kissed me back.

  Holy cow. If this was what it was like to kiss someone you cared about, I could see how people got into trouble from making out.

  My brain went to mush. All I could focus on was his lips on mine, his hands cradling my face, his warm, clean scent. After a long moment, he drew back a bit and pressed tiny nibbling kisses from one corner of my mouth to the other. Whoa. My breath caught in a gasp. His lips curved in a brief smile against my cheek. I almost pulled away. I mean, making gasping noises in front of a guy you’re kissing is totally embarrassing.

  Instead, I tightened my hold on the back of his head and he immediately started one of those long, slow kisses. Yup. More mush brain. More thudding of my pulse in my ears. I didn’t want to ever let go.

  But it had to happen. “Time’s up, kids,” my dad called out.

  We pulled apart, both of us breathing hard. He unfolded himself and stood, offering me a hand. He helped me up, giving me a shy smile that made my heart turn over. I squinted in the light blazing toward us from the patio. Lights! Oh, no. Had my dad seen us kissing? That’d be all I needed.

  “Let’s go,” Gray whispered.

  There wasn’t much else I could do. We walked side by side toward the house, not holding hands, but letting our fingers brush each other as we went. Those light, feathery touches tingled more than holding hands ever would have. And were a lot less awkward in front of my dad. He waited for us at the back door, his reading glasses perched on top of his head. I so didn’t want to make eye contact, but I had to know if I was in trouble. I chanced a look, and my luck held out. Dad was studying Gray as if he wished he could pull out all the secrets in his brain. Not such a horrible wish.

  But once we reached the kitchen, my mother stared at Gray like she wanted to use a carving knife to get at those secrets. Gray was polite, as usual, thanking her for the ice pack and telling my parents good night as if he hadn’t just been kissing their daughter’s face off.

  We made it to the front door, the heat of my parents’ stares lasering our backs. I went outside with him and shut the door. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “They’re not usually so obnoxious.”

  “I know. But I don’t usually upset their daughter late at night.”

  “There is that.”

  He grinned and pulled me against him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  He gave me a quick kiss, then backed down the sidewalk. “Tomorrow,” he said, almost as if he expected me to forget.

  “Yup.” I went in the house, knowing if I waited any longer my dad would come get me again.

  My parents stood in the hall waiting for me. They spoke at the same time. “Everything resolved?” Dad asked.

  “Are y’all dating now?” Mom asked.

  Dating? Was that what had just happened? It felt like the tile floor gave way beneath my feet. I swayed, then grabbed hold of the banister at the bottom of the stairs. My vow. I’d forgotten all about it. I couldn’t date him. Could I?

  “You okay, sweetie?” Dad asked.

  Breathe. Keep it together. I couldn’t let them see me fall apart. “Yeah. It’s been a really long day. Could we talk tomorrow? That okay?”

  They nodded and we said our good-nights while I jogged up the stairs. Behind the closed door of my bedroom, I fell facedown on the bed. What was I going to do? I liked Gray. Really, really liked him. But I didn’t want
to date. Didn’t want to get involved in a serious relationship. And the way I felt about Gray, it seemed like it could get really serious, really fast.

  What in the world could I say to him? After what had happened between us, there was no way he’d believe me if I said I wasn’t interested in him anymore. He’d know I was lying. And besides, I didn’t want to lie.

  I groaned and rolled over. The spinning ceiling fan seemed like a metaphor for my life—always turning, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but going in circles. No moving forward. What if I gave up the vow?

  I sat up slowly as though just waking up.

  Could I do that? Just forget about the whole thing and go through high school like any other girl? A shiver ran through me and it wasn’t because of the air conditioner. The idea of forgetting the vow made me want to curl up in a little ball under the covers and stay there for days.

  I mean, part of me knew it was silly—to give up being with a sweet, cute guy all because I was afraid of my parents splitting up. It didn’t make sense. I wanted to yell at myself—Grow up! Everything doesn’t have to be such a huge deal. But I couldn’t argue away the feeling. Its tentacles had attached their hooks deep inside and I didn’t know how to shake loose.

  I forced myself off the bed, got my pj’s out of my drawer, and changed. I wasn’t going to think about the vow anymore tonight. No, at least for this one night, I was going to fall asleep thinking about Gray, about his kisses, about all the reasons I liked him.

  Tomorrow I’d make a decision. I just wished I didn’t feel like I already knew what it would be.

  Forty-Three

  Gray

  It seemed to take forever for Claire to reach me as she came toward me from the parking lot. But even though I’d wanted to sprint across the park toward her, there was no way I’d let myself do that. I had to keep some shred of self-respect, didn’t I? Yeah, right. Berger’s words couldn’t have been any truer. I was so hosed. I’d stepped into Claire Land and I couldn’t turn around without thinking about how much she’d love X or if she wanted to do Y.

  Crazy fun, but crazy scary too. I didn’t exactly have a great track record with girls. What was I thinking? I didn’t have a track record.

  I gave her a brief kiss—there’d be time for more later—and led her to where I’d set everything up. We sat on the blanket facing each other and I opened the cooler. “I have Sprite and Dr. Pepper. Which do you want?”

  “Sprite. Your eye looks spectacular.” She sounded like she was losing her voice.

  “Spectacular? I was mauled by an angry bear and all I get is spectacular?”

  She laughed, but it sounded like she had to make herself. Guess I wasn’t as funny as I thought. “Okay,” she said, “how about stupendous?”

  I handed her the soda. “I was hoping for stunning.”

  She pursed her lips. “Yeah, I could go with stunning. Are we having a picnic?”

  “Sort of. You sound hoarse. You okay?”

  She popped the top of the soda, sipped, then stared toward the playground. “Just have a lot on my mind.”

  “Want to talk about it? Or should I continue with the sort-of picnic?”

  “Picnic.”

  “Okay.” I pulled out two of the five plastic containers. “Open them.”

  She pried the tops off. “Um, a cupcake and baby carrots.”

  “Right.”

  “Am I supposed to choose?”

  “Yeah. We’re playing ‘get to know Claire even better.’ Which one would you normally want over the other?”

  Her lips trembled. Then she plastered a bright smile on her face. “The cupcake, of course.”

  Something was definitely wrong. Her smile looked forced. I wished for the millionth time I could see her eyes, but only the shape of them showed through her darkened glasses. Should I stop the game? No, she wanted me to go ahead. But if she kept being weird, I was going to find out exactly what was going on.

  I shook my head at the containers. “Sorry, carrots. Dissed again.” I set that box aside and pulled out another.

  She opened it. “A chocolate chip cookie.”

  “Yup.”

  “This is getting harder.”

  “Good. It’s all about the details.”

  She cocked her head at me like she wanted more info, but then dropped her gaze to the containers. “Still the cupcake.”

  “Ah, more cookies for me, then.”

  “Is chocolate chip your favorite?”

  I grinned. “Can’t tell you. You’ll have to wait until we play ‘get to know Gray even better.’”

  She drew in a loud breath. Stuck a finger under her glasses to wipe her eye.

  Was she crying? “Claire, what’s—”

  “Next one, next one.” She rolled her hand at the wrist.

  I set another container on the blanket, watching her carefully. What the heck was going on?

  “A slice of pizza.” She twisted her fingers in her necklace. “Now you’re just being mean.”

  The words were normal teasing Claire, but they sounded strained, like she was trying to keep it together. All at once I knew that whatever was going on had to do with me. The air seemed thinner. Like I couldn’t get a decent breath. “So which one?” I pushed out a laugh. “It can’t be that hard a decision.”

  She gasped and scrambled to her feet, waving her karate-chopping arms. “I don’t— I can’t.”

  I jumped up. “What’s the matter? We don’t have to do this if you don’t want.”

  “It’s not that.” Her voice broke.

  I wiped a tear from her cheek and pulled her against me. “Don’t cry. Everything’s gonna be all right.” I didn’t know what I was talking about, but the words came out automatically. Her arms went around me. Whew, okay. It couldn’t be so bad if she was hugging me.

  But after a minute of standing like that, my T-shirt stuck damply to my chest. She’d been crying the whole time. Silently. “Claire,” I whispered, “tell me what’s wrong.”

  She lifted her face. “You’re making me fall in love with you.”

  A whirlwind of relief blew through me. I laughed. “How can that be bad?”

  But she didn’t laugh. Instead, she pulled free and stepped back. “I don’t date.”

  Something wrenched inside me, but I ignored it. “You said that the other day. What does that mean?”

  “It means I can’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  She motioned back and forth between us. “This. You, me. Us, together.”

  She couldn’t be serious. “Hang on. You just said you’re falling in love with me.”

  “I know. I am.”

  “Then I don’t get what this is all about.”

  She twisted her fingers together. “I made a vow not to date during high school.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I tell people it’s because I don’t want a relationship to distract me from school, but … that’s not the real reason.”

  “Then what is?”

  She paced back and forth slowly, then stopped in front of me. I waited. Hardly breathing. I dreaded what she was about to say. But I also needed her to tell me. Because I couldn’t try to change her mind if I didn’t know what the problem was.

  “A few years ago,” she said, “when Mimi and Carl got married, my parents went ballistic.” She stared at the grass like it was a screen showing her memories. “Things were already tense. My dad had been trying to convince Mimi to date other people. It backfired. They eloped. I think my mom blamed my dad or something.” Her voice dropped. “They argued. A lot. He even left home a few times.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged, looking sadder than I’d ever seen her. I moved close and cupped her face in my hands. “That has nothing to do with us. You know that, right?”

  “Gray—”

  I kissed her. I couldn’t help it. If we were kissing, she couldn’t talk. Couldn’t say things that made no sense. Things that would keep us apart.

/>   She kissed me back, but seconds later broke away. “I can’t.” She shook her head like she was trying to clear it. “I can’t take the chance … I won’t do something that’ll ruin my parents’ marriage. It’s just easier this way.”

  I tensed. How could she say that? Not being with me was easier? Funny, ’cause the sense of someone gutting me with a fish knife sure didn’t feel easier. Maybe she just didn’t care as much as she said she did. “Easier? You mean safer. You’re running scared. What’s this really about?”

  A frown creased her forehead. “I just told you.”

  “About your parents. Right. I don’t buy it. You’re afraid of something. Something you don’t want to deal with.” My face got hot as I talked and words leaked out before I had a chance to think. “And who made you responsible for your parents’ marriage? I mean, I know it’s hard. Believe me, I know. But sometimes no matter what you do, they divorce anyway.”

  The image of my mom driving away from our house without looking back hit me like my little brothers doing battering-ram moves into my chest. I should’ve already learned the lesson about what happened when you trusted girls. I strode back to the blanket and started putting the containers back in the cooler. Claire’s silver water bottle waited in the bottom. Apparently, I wouldn’t need that anymore. I yanked it out. “Here.”

  “Oh.” She took it. “Thanks. I didn’t know where I’d lost it.”

  I grunted and tossed containers.

  Claire knelt on a corner of the blanket. “You want help?”

  “No.”

  “Gray, I’m sorry. I know this all seems stupid—”

  “Save it.”

  “—but I can’t change the way I feel.”

  I slammed the lid down on the cooler. “I wish I could.” She jerked like I’d slapped her, but I couldn’t stop. “I love you. At least I think I do. I’ve never felt this way about a girl. And no, not even Lindsey.

  “Now you’re telling me you want to forget about us before we’ve had a chance to even really get started?”

  “I don’t want to.”