He glanced back at me as he pushed through the library doors, his expression annoyed. “The conversation is over. See you Sunday.” His long legs carried him away, and I gaped after him.
“And you accused me of not being nice?” I called after him. Jerk.
A couple of girls walking by stared at me. Freshmen from the looks of them. They worked too hard on the hair and makeup. “What?” I glared at them and then looked down the hall. Grayson kept walking like he hadn’t heard me.
He was the rudest person alive. I didn’t care how smart he was. He could be friendlier. He’d been happy when I showed him my grade. It was the Willa thing that had gotten his panties in a bunch.
Staring at his back, I wondered if I would still see him on Sunday.
And why was I so bothered by the possibility that now I might not?
GIRL CODE #13:
Don’t cancel plans with your girlfriends because a boy calls at the last minute, unless he’s really special and they’re all cheering you on.
Willa
THE week continued in a blur.
I would like to say that sitting in the passenger seat beside Zach, channeling the Willa Evans of a week ago, was easy. I wanted to say it was starting to feel normal again. Like before.
Except it wasn’t. Our time together was tense. I never mentioned Ashlyn, although I still saw her flitting around him at school. He didn’t seem to mind.
I couldn’t meet his gaze, so I pretty much avoided looking at his face. Instead I stared at those hands on the steering wheel, but even his hands put flutters in my stomach. They were nice, big hands. Lightly tan and veined. Blunt-tipped, tapering fingers with neatly trimmed nails. And I could only remember how they’d felt on my face when he kissed me. By the time he put the Jeep into park I was always relieved to escape that small space with him.
That afternoon I stayed late after school. I was coming out of the orchestra hall when I spotted Zach walking across the practice field heading for the parking lot. He spotted me, too.
“Need a ride?” he called.
I wished I could say no, that I had a ride, but I didn’t. I was planning to call my sister to come and get me. “Sure,” I called back. It was only reasonable. Chloe would complain, and even if she grabbed Mia and left right away, I’d probably have to wait at least fifteen minutes.
“How was practice?” I asked once we were in his Jeep, rubbing my palms over my jeans and willing myself not to be nervous. Things were supposed to go back. We were supposed to be friends like before.
“Good. How was yours?”
“Good.” I nodded. “We have a recital coming up.”
We lapsed into silence, which I guessed was better than inane conversation.
When we pulled up in the drive, I could see Mom’s car wasn’t parked in the open garage. I knew Chloe wouldn’t have started dinner yet. I’d have to come up with something.
I climbed out of Zach’s Jeep and started across the lawn to my house.
“Hey, you got any graphing paper?” he asked. “I’m out.”
“Sure. It’s in my desk.”
He followed me up my porch. I tried not to think about the last time I’d stood on this porch with him.
All thoughts about that night fled when I pushed open the door to the sight of my sister asleep on the couch and Mia sitting before the TV, systematically destroying Mom’s magazine collection.
“Mia!” I dropped my backpack and sank down on the carpet beside her, plucking a shredded copy of Cooking Light from her hands. She squealed at the sight of me and flung her chubby arms around my neck. “You shouldn’t do that,” I lightly reproved, hugging her cuddly little body. “Phew. Someone needs a diaper change.”
“Uh, Willa?”
I looked up at Zach’s voice. He was standing over my sister, who was asleep on the couch.
“Chloe?” I called.
No response. Hair obscured half her face. Zach shook her shoulder gently. Then harder. Nothing.
I hurried over and shook her. “Chloe.” Alarm tinged my voice.
Zach must have heard it. He reached in and felt the pulse at her neck. “She’s breathing.”
“Chloe!” I shook her again even as my stomach sank. I knew she was taking antidepressants, and that probably wasn’t all. Her bathroom was like a pharmacy. So many pills.
Mia giggled, clapped, and copied me, leaving out the l sound. “Coey!”
My sister opened her eyes. “Ugh. You.” She moaned and slapped at my hand. “Go way. Leave me alone,” she slurred.
I looked up at Zach and held his gaze. Understanding filled his gray eyes. “What’s she on?”
I sighed and shook my head. “Who knows?”
Nodding, he bent down and scooped her up in his arms. “Let’s get her upstairs.”
I picked Mia up and followed. He carried my sister up those steps and down the hall without breaking a sweat. I watched the play of his back muscles beneath his T-shirt. Yes, even his back mesmerized me. Gah. I was terrible. Salivating over him wasn’t helping put things back to the way they were before we kissed.
I followed him into Chloe’s room, watching as he lowered her onto the unmade bed. Just as he was about to pull away, Chloe grabbed a fistful of his shirt, tugging his broad chest down toward her. “Hey, what are you doing here in my room, sexy thing?” She arched, stretching her too-small MADISON CHEER T-shirt tighter across her chest. She circled a hand around his neck. “Always knew you had a thing for me.”
“Chloe!” God, she was a menace.
She turned bloodshot eyes on me. “Oh. You.” She let go of his neck. “Little Miss Perfect.”
I blinked. It was funny she called me that. I didn’t feel perfect now. Far from it. She had been the perfect one, once upon a time. Yeah. Hard to imagine that, looking at her now.
She’d been the cheerleader. Homecoming queen. Straight As. Near-perfect score on her ACT. She’d gotten a full ride to Vanderbilt. Even when she’d gotten married to Braden, a grad student, the world had been hers. Beautiful bride. Handsome groom. Lovely church wedding. They moved into married student housing, and if Mia arrived less than forty weeks after the wedding, no one mentioned it. Her life was picture-perfect. At least that was what I thought. Until Chloe showed up on our doorstep with Mia and a car full of her belongings. Apparently Braden was going to complete his doctorate at Cambridge, and he preferred to do it without Chloe. In fact, he preferred to instead take the student he was currently sleeping with.
Groaning, Chloe collapsed back down on the bed and waved a hand in the air in a little circle. “Why don’t you two just do it and get it over with? You’ve been dancing around it for years.”
I gasped. I would kill her. Later. When she was sober and we were alone.
She closed her eyes. She was out again.
I moved into the hall and toward the bathroom. Adjusting Mia on my hip, I poured a glass of water, sneaking a glance at my reflection. My cheeks burned red.
Returning to the bedroom, I thrust Mia at Zach. “Hold her a second.”
To his credit, he took her without hesitation and managed not to look afraid.
I slid an arm under my sister’s shoulders and lifted her up. “C’mon. Take a drink,” I coaxed, hoping it would help dilute whatever was in her system. I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it seemed the thing to do. I felt Zach beside me. The warm crawl of his gaze . . . the heat radiating from him.
Chloe opened her eyes. “What the hell!” She swatted at the glass I bumped against her lips, sending water sloshing over her face.
She surged upright, arms flailing. I fought back a laugh. She looked so outraged, coughing and wiping at the water running down her face . . . but she also looked a bit more sober, so that was comforting.
Mia giggled in Zach’s arms.
“Take a drink, Chloe,” I encouraged.
“Stop being such a buzz kill! Go away. I’m fine.” With a huff, she rolled over on her side.
I stood back with t
he glass. “I guess she’s fine.”
“She’ll be okay.”
“God! Both of you just go away!” she shouted over her shoulder at us.
We left the room. Zach closed the door behind me. Standing in the hall, I took Mia from his arms. “Thanks for that.” I looked down at my niece. She played with my hair, babbling. Her big eyes locked on my face and she demanded, “Moana?”
Smiling, I shook my head. “Not right now, Mia.” I looked back at Zach. “I need to change her diaper. Give her a bath. My graph paper is in my desk. Help yourself.”
It was a dismissal. I couldn’t bear looking at him right now, and not because of the new tension that had come between us, but because he was witness to this.
He glanced at my sister’s shut door and then looked down at Mia. I held my breath, hoping he wasn’t going to want to talk about what just happened. Looking at it through his eyes, it definitely looked messed up. He probably thought my family was dysfunctional, and I don’t know that I didn’t agree.
“Okay.” He moved down the hall toward my room and I turned for the bathroom.
I spent about thirty minutes bathing Mia. She was squeaky clean and smelled of soap by the time we emerged. Chloe’s door was still closed. Who knew when she would surface? I’d have to check on her periodically.
Carrying Mia, I headed downstairs to fix us something to eat, pausing when I reached the bottom. Something smelled delicious.
“Mom?” I called. Maybe she’d brought dinner home.
Except when I entered the kitchen, it wasn’t Mom. Zach puttered around my kitchen, looking totally at home. He hadn’t left.
“What are you doing?” I bounced Mia into a more secure position on my hip. She grabbed a fistful of my hair in a non-gentle grip. I leaned my head into the pressure but didn’t look away from Zach.
He lifted his gaze to mine. “Making dinner.”
I glanced around the kitchen. “I can see that.” Two pots simmered on the stove, and the oven read 350 degrees. Evidently something was baking inside it. He’d done all this in half an hour? “Maybe I should lock the doors around here. I thought you were going home.”
“I thought I’d stay and cook y’all dinner. You don’t mind, do you? Seems like you got your hands full.” His gaze held mine, the gray of his eyes sucking me in.
Did I mind that he was cooking for me and I wouldn’t have to eat cereal for dinner? I shook my head slowly. “No. Thank you.”
The front door opened, and Mom called out hello. She entered the kitchen and dropped her bag on one of the barstools. “Something smells amazing.”
“Zach cooked dinner,” I said.
“Zach!” A smile spread across her face. “How great are you?” She moved forward to press a kiss on Mia’s chubby cheek. She brushed a hand over my hair. “I didn’t know you knew how to cook. We’d have you over every night.”
“I cook exactly three things,” he volunteered. “Spaghetti. Tacos. And French toast.”
“And what are we so fortunate to get tonight?” Mom asked.
“Spaghetti.” He bent and slid a tray from the oven, which held garlic bread.
“Looks delicious,” Mom murmured in approval as she leaned over the cooktop to inhale.
I moved and plopped Mia into her high chair. After buckling her in, I locked the tray into place.
“I’ll just go change and fetch Chloe down.”
“Oh, she’s asleep.”
Mom paused. “She’s already in bed?”
“Yeah.” I flicked a quick glance to Zach. He lifted an eyebrow but said nothing, just continued to stir sauce. Even without saying anything, I felt him nudging me on.
“Maybe you should check on her?” I suggested, fiddling with the bib around Mia’s neck. It was the most I could say. Especially as tired as Mom looked. She always looked tired. Since Dad took the job out of town and Chloe and Mia moved in, she looked worn to the bone.
“Hmm. Okay.” She turned and headed upstairs.
Zach lifted a pot from the stove and poured the pasta into a colander waiting in the sink. I fetched a bowl for Mia from the cabinet and prepared a bowl of noodles for her. Zach approached and poured a little meat sauce over Mia’s noodles. I stirred it and blew on it to cool it down.
“You know you should tell her.”
I glanced at him. “My mom?”
“Yeah. She needs to know that your sister is a hot mess up there.”
“She’s got enough to worry about.”
Zach shook his head. “You can’t avoid it forever. I mean . . . she’ll figure it out eventually. Why not go ahead and break it to her?”
I nodded like I agreed.
He continued. “I know you’d rather pretend everything is fine.”
I set the bowl in front of Mia along with her toddler fork. I walked around Zach and tore off a piece of warm bread, then handed it to Mia. She snatched up the buttery goodness eagerly, forgetting about her pasta.
He clasped my shoulder and forced me around to face him. “I mean . . . I know you’re a pro at avoidance—”
“What’s that mean?” I snapped.
He smiled. “C’mon, Willa. You know I mean us.”
I bristled. “It’s not the same thing.”
“Situations are different, but you’re handling it in the same way. I know you. You don’t do confrontations and you don’t do conflict.”
I walked to the fridge and poured some milk into a toddler cup, uncomfortable and desperate to look anywhere other than at him. I screwed the lid back on and handed it to Mia. “What are you? A shrink?”
“No. I just get it. It’s easier to pretend. To run. I know. I’m guilty of that too. I guess it’s just . . . human.”
I blinked suddenly burning eyes. I didn’t want him to be right.
He continued, “I pretended with Flor.” I froze. Are we going to talk about this? “Almost immediately I knew it wasn’t right. I went out with her because she liked me. Because everyone told me we should get together.” He looked at me pointedly. “Including you.”
“Yeah.” I fidgeted. That was true. Flor had wanted him and I had done my best to get him for her—encouraging him and telling him he should go for her. Because it was easier than admitting I wanted him for myself. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s not your fault. I should have been honest from the start, but it was easier to pretend. To ignore my feelings. Bury them deep.”
Yeah. I definitely knew something about that.
Mia started cheerfully banging her cup on the tray. “Why did you stop pretending?” I whispered over the noise.
He held my stare. “The night she got trashed just confirmed what I already knew. We weren’t right for each other.” He paused, holding my gaze. “And . . . when the three of us were together . . . I was always thinking more about you than Flor. You remember that double date with Anthony?”
I winced. “Yeah. That wasn’t such a good idea.”
“You’re telling me. Anthony is a decent guy, but I wanted to kill him when he started talking about your butt.”
My stomach knotted. “My butt?”
Zach angled his head and gave me a meaningful look. “C’mon. You know you have a great ass.”
I blinked. I did? I thought it was too . . . too. It was a pain finding the right jeans. “What did he say?”
“You really need a play-by-play? Suffice to say it gave him all sorts of ideas that made me want to throat-punch him.” He sighed. “And the fact that I cared so much was kind of messed up considering I was dating someone else at the time.”
He couldn’t mean that. I couldn’t breathe.
“That’s not true.” It couldn’t be true. “You said it had to do with you and Flor. Something happened that night you were at her place.”
“Yeah. I said that. I couldn’t say that it was more than that, could I? That would mean I would have to stop pretending. To myself. To you. We’ve been one thing for so many years, it was hard to think about breaki
ng out of that.”
I fought to swallow the golf ball lodged in my throat.
He continued, “I don’t know when it got to be so hard, but being with Flor was hard. We’re young. Relationships should be fun. There shouldn’t be so much struggle. So there was all of that . . . and you.” He shook his head. “I won’t pretend having feelings for you didn’t have something to do with why I broke up with her.”
The sweetest, most awful words I’d ever heard. And in no way could they be true.
In no reality did someone prefer me over Flor. That didn’t make sense.
I shook my head fiercely. “No. No.” Mia started mimicking me, shaking her head and blabbing the word no. I swallowed and continued, “No way. You hopped in that closet with Ava—”
“Because I was trying to move on.” Like he was evidently trying to move on now. With Ashlyn. “And you were still trying to get me and Flor back together.” I winced. That was true. “Clearly I didn’t think you felt the same way I did. Not until you entered that closet with me and we kissed. Then I knew.”
Was the air thinner in here? I still couldn’t get enough oxygen into my lungs. It was like something heavy was pressing on my chest. Not that his words made any difference. We’d agreed. We were just friends.
He expelled a breath. “Look. I figured out what I needed to do and I broke up with Flor.” He pointed at me then. “You know what you need to do here. You have to deal with this thing with your sister. You can’t pretend forever.”
I sank into a chair in front of Mia. A pained smile curved my lips as my niece babbled and ate, dropping more noodles than she actually managed to get in her mouth.
He knew me. I hated confrontation. I would rather ignore something in the hopes it went away. But what if my sister didn’t get her act together? What then? I stared at my niece and felt a pang in my chest. I needed to be brave for her.
“I know.” But it was easier said than done.
I blew out a frustrated breath. Why couldn’t things just go back to before? Go back to being easy?
Mom’s footsteps sounded on the stairs. Zach moved back to the stove and dished spaghetti into three bowls. “Let’s eat.”
The Me I Meant to Be Page 11
