I thought maybe clothes from the thrift store would smell weird or something. I shrugged. “Okay, then. We’ll go to the thrift store and look. But if they don’t have anything, we’ll go to the mall.”
“Deal.”
Chapter Thirteen
I grabbed two yogurts from the fridge, as was my usual routine, and slid on my sunglasses. It was sunny, plus I didn’t want anyone seeing me going into the thrift store with Parker. Not that my sunglasses were a great disguise, but they did make me feel a little less conspicuous.
I called to my dad as I left. “See you later.”
“Bye, sweetie,” he called back.
I pulled up to Parker’s house and he hopped in my car. “What’s with the sunglasses?”
Dang. He didn’t miss a thing. “It’s bright out today.”
His face told me he wasn’t buying it. He sucked in a breath and covered his mouth. “Oh, no.”
“What?”
“I forgot my fake mustache. Do you think anyone will recognize me?”
I shoved his shoulder. “Shut up.”
He laughed. “Be open to new things, Hannah.”
“I am. I’m going there, aren’t I?”
“Yeah.”
I pulled into the parking lot. There were a few cars, but none that I recognized from school, so I relaxed a bit. I got out of the car and pulled my purse over my shoulder, ready to get this over with. If I didn’t find anything, I’d explain to my dad that I had to get a dress from the mall. I couldn’t help it if they didn’t have my size.
Parker opened the door for me and I walked in. The first thing I noticed was how large it was inside. Racks and racks of clothes lined the floors. This many people shopped at thrift stores? The second thing I noticed was the wall of scarves and hats. My weakness. “Ooh, hats.”
He followed me over to the display. There was a full-length mirror leaning against the wall beside the display. I pulled a black fedora off the wall and looked at it, checking for head lice or dandruff. It was perfectly clean. In fact, it still had a tag on it from the original store where it was purchased. I had no idea people donated brand new stuff to the thrift store.
I put the fedora on my head and looked in the mirror. It was cute. I pulled a red scarf off the wall and wrapped it around my neck. With my sunglasses and the fedora, it looked really good. Parker laughed at me and took a picture with his phone.
I quickly forgot all about the things being previously owned. I tried on all the cool-looking hats and found a blue scarf made of silk that I had to have. I looked at the price and gasped. “Seriously? Two dollars?”
“What, you like the thrift store now?”
“Like it? I love it! This is genuine silk. Do you know how much this would cost brand new?”
“More than two dollars?”
“Heck, yeah. I can get this and a dress, and still have money for lunch.”
He chuckled and followed me over to the rack that held dresses in my size. I flipped through the hangers, now excited to see if I could discover a great deal. I ignored the sweater dresses, or the ones that looked like they were purchased from the discount store. When I saw a strappy red dress, my heart jumped. It was perfect. I took it down and held it in front of me. “What do you think?”
Parker raised his eyebrows. “Nice.”
“Just nice?”
“No. More than nice. That will look great on you.”
I glanced around, spying the fitting rooms. “I’m going to go try it on.”
He nodded, and I left him standing by the dresses. After I locked myself in a fitting room, I took off my clothes and slipped the dress on over my head. It fit like it had been made for me, and it fell just below my knees, which was the perfect length for me. The fabric was soft. Obviously, an expensive dress to begin with.
I peeked at the tag. Five dollars. That was it? I had a twenty in my purse. Excited, I left the dressing room to find Parker. When he saw me approach, his gaze traveled down the dress, then back up to my face. I couldn’t quite read his expression, so I posed. “Well?”
“Buy it. Don’t ever take it off.”
I giggled and twirled around in it, loving the way it swirled out, then hit my legs. “It really is the perfect dress, isn’t it?”
He squinted at me. “Wait.”
I froze. “What?”
“What is that?” He pointed to a spot just under my shoulder.
I stared down at it. The dress had a slight discoloration where the strap connected to the dress.
“Is that a stain?” Parker frowned.
Disappointment crashed into me. No. The dress was amazing. There was no way it could be stained. I hadn’t seen it when I had looked at myself in the mirror. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. The fabric is darker right there. I’m pretty sure it’s a stain.”
I almost cried. I loved the dress so much. I didn’t want to leave the store without it. In a desperate attempt to save it, I took a step back from him. “Is it that noticeable?”
He squinted again. “Well…”
“What about stain remover?” I was so in love with the dress now, I would do anything to save it. “I could try to get the stain out.”
“Maybe that would work. But what if it didn’t come out?”
“Then…” I fought to think of what I’d do. My gaze landed on a mannequin with a white, cropped cardigan covering a tank top. “I could wear a sweater to cover the stain.” I pointed. “That one would work.”
Parker glanced to the mannequin and nodded. “Yeah. Good idea.”
I pulled the cropped cardigan off the dummy and slipped it on over my shoulders. It fit, and it covered the stain perfectly. I almost squealed with delight.
In the end, I got out of there for under ten dollars, and I had a new dress for the dance, and a scarf I loved. “You are a genius,” I said, poking him.
He gave me a smug smile. “Can I have that in writing?”
“I’ll write it on your forehead with a Sharpie.” I opened my trunk and deposited the shopping bag inside.
He made a face. “Not exactly what I was going for.”
I smiled at him and closed my trunk. “Thanks for making me go to the thrift store. Being poor isn’t quite as bad as I thought it would be.” I impulsively gave him a hug.
His arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me to him. I was trying to give him a quick thank you, but he didn’t let go, and I didn’t want to shove him away. Instead, I placed my head on his shoulder.
I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent. The fluttery feeling in my stomach came back. After a few seconds, I wondered if he was going to just hold me in the thrift store parking lot all day. I looked up at him, and his eyes held an expression I couldn’t pin down. “What?”
“Nothing.” He finally let me go and took a step back. “Nothing,” he said again.
I wasn’t sure exactly what Parker was thinking, but my pulse was doing crazy things. I was already confused about how I was feeling about him. Why did he have to be so cryptic?
Chapter Fourteen
I took a red heart cut from paper and held it up to the ladies in the craft room at the senior center. “We are making Valentine’s Day decorations today. When we’re done, we can hang them up around the room.”
Agnes frowned at me. “I wanted to do Bingo again.”
Of course, she did. At least she participated on Wednesday, which Barbara said she never did. I smiled at her, as brightly as I could muster. “We’ll do Bingo again next Wednesday. Today we’re making paper hearts.”
One of the ladies picked up my example. “How did you get the lace on so precisely?”
I took the glue over to her and showed her how I had measured and put it on. The ladies started getting to work, picking up paper hearts I had already cut out and grabbing the glitter and supplies. Agnes folded her arms and glared at me. “When can I go back to my room?”
I walked over and sat across the table from her. Instead of forcing her to make a heart decoration
, I just smiled at her. “Have you always lived in Sweet Water, Agnes?”
She shook her head. “No. I was born and raised in Rockford, Wisconsin.”
“What brought you to Sweet Water?”
“My husband wanted to retire here. Which was fine until he left me.”
My jaw dropped. “He left you?”
She patted the table. “No, he didn’t leave me in that way. He died, honey.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Sorry.”
Agnes slumped. “He died and now I’m stuck here, far away from family.”
“You have family back in Wisconsin?”
She nodded. “My son lives there with his wife, and my granddaughter.”
“Tell me about them.”
Agnes’s face brightened. “My son is an artist. He paints the most beautiful paintings.” She spent the hour talking about how he married a musician and how talented her granddaughter was. I listened to her talk. It was obvious she missed her son.
“Do they ever get to come visit you?”
“Yes. They come visit me here. But I would rather move back there.”
“Have you ever told them that?”
Agnes ran her finger along the edge of the table. “I shouldn’t have to.”
I took her hand. “Maybe they don’t know how you feel. You should talk to them about the idea. Maybe they would like to have you closer.”
The old woman paused for a moment in thought. “Maybe.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to at least try.”
Another woman came up to us needing help, so I left Agnes and helped her with the glue bottle. The next time I looked over at Agnes, she was putting glitter on a paper heart. I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe I had done something to help that sour old woman after all.
When the art project was done, I packed up my supplies. As I snapped the lid on my plastic container, I heard the click of the door closing, and my gaze connected with Lucas. He walked across the art room, his thumbs hooked into his pockets. He smiled at me. “Hey, just wanted to see what goes on in here.”
My heart thudded in my chest. I picked up one of the hearts the ladies had made. “We were making some Valentine’s Day decorations today.”
He nodded his head. “Nice.” He stared down at his feet, not making a move to leave.
I felt awkward and excited all at once. Was he there to talk to me? What did he want? I held my breath and ran my finger across the lacy heart as I waited for him to speak.
He looked at me, his dark brown eyes smoldering. “I have a question for you, and I apologize upfront because it might seem kind of weird.”
“What is it?” My mouth went dry. He took a step closer to me and the air went out of my lungs.
“You know, Valentine’s Day is next week.”
“Yes.” I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. It was making it hard to concentrate on what Lucas was saying. I tried not to crumple the decoration I held.
He ran a hand over his hair and exhaled. “I don’t know what to get Charlotte.”
I froze, and my hopes of having Lucas be interested in me broke apart. This wasn’t about me at all. “Oh?”
Lucas cringed. “I want to get her something nice, but I don’t want it to be too expensive or she’ll think I’m trying to buy her affections. But I don’t want to disappoint her either.” He pointed at me. “You’re a girl. What do girls want for Valentine’s Day?”
His face was so hopeful, I felt sorry for him. I was such a fool for ever thinking I could break them up and become Lucas’s girlfriend. “You really like her, don’t you?”
Lucas swallowed and looked out the window. “She’s amazing. I was drowning, and she saved me.” When he looked back at me, I could see the emotion in his gaze. “I love her.”
His words stabbed into my chest. He loved her. And I was stupid. I stuffed down the pain he’d caused with his words. He wanted me to help him. I couldn’t just leave him hanging. I rubbed my hands together, trying to think of something to say to him. “Girls don’t care as much about the gift as you’d think. Just make it something thoughtful, and she’ll love it.”
He scowled. “Thoughtful? What do you mean? I’ve thought about it until my brain hurts. Can’t you tell me what to get her? Flowers? Chocolate?”
I tossed the red heart onto the table. “Flowers and chocolate are nice, but isn’t there something that is more unique to Charlotte? Something she would think was more special?”
The clock on the wall ticked as Lucas thought about it. Then his eyebrows raised. “Her mom died last year. I bet she would love a picture of her. Maybe I could get one framed up nice?”
My heart stuttered, and I tried not to get emotional. Just because I would hate a photo of my mother didn’t mean Charlotte wouldn’t love it. My mother betrayed me. Her mother hadn’t. I twisted my fingers. “That’s a nice thought. But maybe a picture frame isn’t that romantic.”
His face fell. “Yeah. You’re right. That was a dumb idea.”
“No, it wasn’t. You just need to make it more personal now.” Brilliance struck me. “How about a locket? You could put a picture of her mother inside.”
“That’s a great idea. She would love that!”
“Put your photo in it too. Because she likes you.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” He stepped forward, and before I knew it, he was hugging me. “Thanks, Hannah. I knew you’d be able to help me.”
I waited for my body to react to his touch, to get all tingly or something, but it didn’t. It felt like every other hug I’d had in my life. Like I was hugging my brother. The thought shocked me, and I pulled back. “You’re welcome.”
He gave me a half-wave as he left the room. I stared at the door as I tried to put my feelings in order. I was happy I’d helped Lucas, but a part of me was mourning the loss of something I had never had. The idea of me and Lucas.
It wasn’t meant to be. And I could see it now. Lucas was happy with Charlotte. And for some strange reason, the sparks between us had faded. Yes, I still got all weak-kneed when I looked at him, and maybe I always would. But he wasn’t the guy I had imagined up in my brain. My perfect man. He was just a guy, like all the others.
I walked to my car, my chest feeling hollow. I knew what I had to do. I had to let go of Lucas.
Chapter Fifteen
I plopped down on my usual seat in the library and glanced around for Parker. Monday. What a sucky day. I had started off the day by missing my alarm, so my whole morning was rushed. My hair wouldn’t cooperate, and we were out of yogurt. My bad mood hadn’t lightened as the day had progressed, and by now I was downright depressed and ready for the day to end.
As I waited, I pulled all my books out. My Lucas notebook slid out of my bag and I opened it. What stupid nonsense. I closed it again and shoved it in my pile. How stupid I had been.
Parker slipped into the library, the leather jacket I bought him slung over one shoulder. He’d styled his hair again, and my pulse increased as he walked toward our table. He moved like a cat. No, more like a panther. I had never noticed before. Dang, he looked good.
He sat on the seat opposite me and tossed his backpack on the table. “Hey,” he said, his voice low since we were in the library. “How are you?”
“Better, now that you’re here.” I was surprised at how true those words were. My dark mood lifted.
He gave me a small smile before he pulled out his books and opened one of them. He buried himself in his studies. I twisted my pencil as I watched him. I didn’t want to study anymore. I wanted to talk to Parker.
Ever since my revelation yesterday, I had been thinking about things. About Lucas, and about Parker. Surprisingly, I wasn’t terribly heartbroken over having to let go of Lucas. In fact, after Parker had talked to me about how we’d spend less time together if I was with Lucas, I had been worrying over it. I didn’t want to lose what I had with Parker. And now, I didn’t have to.
I kicked Parker under the t
able. He looked up at me. “What?”
“I want to talk to you about Lucas. Want to get out of here?”
A look crossed his face and he paused before shaking his head. “I can’t. I have to get this done.”
I stared down at his biology book. “Aren’t you taking biology from Mr. Beecher?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“He didn’t give us homework.” I flipped his page. “You’re not even in the right place. We’re on chapter sixteen.”
He yanked his book away from me. “I have a makeup test I have to take.”
“Sorry. Don’t have to get so grumpy on me.”
The librarian scowled at us and put her finger up to her lips. “Shh.”
I ducked my head, humiliated I’d gotten called out in front of everyone. I pulled out my math homework and started to figure out the problems. My bad mood was back.
What was up with Parker? He always was up for ditching our daily study session if he didn’t have anything pressing to get done. Why was he being that way?
I bounced my leg as I finished up my math problems. I just wanted to get out of there. Get away from Parker, who had hurt my feelings. When the librarian flickered the lights to let everyone know the library was closing, I shoved my books in my bag and stood.
Parker gathered up his things as well and followed me out to my car. His was still not drivable. I got in and stuck in my key. Parker slid his seatbelt over his lap and clicked it into place. “Thanks for the ride home,” he said, not looking at me.
I clenched the steering wheel and gave him the once-over. “Okay. What’s wrong?”
He sighed. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Don’t lie to me. Something is going on.”
He forced a smile, but his eyes still held a frown. “I’m just in a bad mood. That’s all. It wasn’t the best day.”
Relief came over me. “Me too. I had a terrible day.”
“So you understand.”
“Yeah.” I reached over and touched his hand. The contact ignited something inside of me. I brought my hand back.
Falling for My Best Friend Page 8
