Shut Out

by Kody Keplinger

  “You could have just said no,” I told her. “You didn’t have to say you’d do it.”

  “What’s the fun in that?” She took another drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke out between her pink-glossed lips.

  “It’s not about teasing, remember?”

  “I won’t tease him…. Well, not much.” She took another puff on her cigarette. “What about you? Are you sure you can handle this, Lissa? Being alone with Randy and not jumping his bones? I mean, he is pretty fine. Will you really be able to say no?”

  “Trust me, I’ll be all right,” I said. “Randy’s hot, but it isn’t like he’s Adonis.”

  She looked skeptical. “Whatever you say. He may not be a sex god, but I know you like it.”

  I blushed. “God, Chloe. Can we not talk about this?”

  “What?” she asked. “Come on. If you’re mature enough to have sex, you should be mature enough to joke about it with your super-fabulous best friend.”

  I didn’t say anything to that.

  We pulled into the library parking lot and I quickly undid my seat belt.

  “Have fun at work,” Chloe said.

  I watched as she put out her cigarette and left the butt in her ashtray. “Doesn’t your mother see those and get pissed?” I had to ask.

  “Psh. Nah. She bought me the pack.” Chloe shrugged and gestured to the glove compartment. “She swore she’d quit for real last time. But after the divorce, she asked me to go out and buy her a pack. I told her she could only have one if she bought me one, too. I figured she’d be like, ‘No way in hell,’ or something, but she just tossed me a twenty and said it was okay.”

  “My dad would kill me,” I said.

  “Eh. I’m eighteen now. Even if she didn’t like it, there isn’t much she can do.” Chloe started messing with the radio dial, and I climbed out of the convertible.

  “Thanks for the lift.”

  “You know it’s not a problem. See you tomorrow.”

  I slammed the car door and waved over my shoulder as I made my way up the steps to the front entrance.

  “About time,” Jenna snapped when I walked over to the front desk.

  “I’m five minutes early,” I told her.

  She chose to ignore this, of course, and jabbed a finger at the cart of children’s books beside her. “All of those need to be shelved right away,” she informed me, tossing her curtain of cherry-red hair over her shoulder. “Hurry. There are some kids up there now. What if someone is looking for one of those books and can’t find it on the shelf? Chop, chop.”

  Jenna was insanely anal-retentive. She was my coworker, a student at Oak Hill Community College, and a royal pain in my ass. She’d seemed cool for, like, the first week I worked at the library, but I quickly learned that she had serious issues. Working with Jenna was the only part of this job that I hated.

  I grabbed a few of the adult fiction books that had accidentally been placed on the children’s cart (Ha! Jenna could make mistakes, too!) and put them on the correct shelves before walking back to the front desk to grab the cart, which I needed to lug up the stairs. Judging by her attitude, Jenna wasn’t going to help me drag the beast to the second floor—great.

  “Oh, by the way,” Jenna said, turning away from her computer and meeting my eyes, “you have a new coworker.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Some high school kid.” Jenna sighed. She wasn’t bothering to hide her agitation. I’m sure she saw it as one more idiot to deal with. Funny, really. As much as she loved to boss people around, you’d think she’d be thrilled to have someone new under her command.

  “Name?” I pressed.

  “Can’t remember. But he’s hot. Don’t let that distract you from working, though. I don’t want it to become a problem.”

  I rolled my eyes when she wasn’t looking.

  “He’s late,” Jenna said. “By two and a half minutes. Not a great way to start a new job, is it?”

  I was about to respond when the library doors opened behind me.

  “Sorry I’m late. I had to talk to my soccer coach about making up practice.”

  My whole body went rigid. I knew that voice.

  “There you are,” Jenna said, flicking her red hair over her shoulder in the sassiest way possible. “Okay. I’ll excuse your lack of punctuality today, but don’t make a habit of it, please.”

  She’d excuse it? Jenna was not our boss. She couldn’t punish us or anything just because she worked a few more days a week. She might have called herself an “assistant librarian,” but she was just another shelver. You needed a degree to be a librarian (I’d googled it out of curiosity once), and she was still a student. Really, Mrs. Coles, the head librarian, was the only one with the power to hire, fire, or punish.

  “Sorry,” Jenna said. “Can’t remember your name. What was it again?”

  “Cash.”

  “Right. Good. Cash, this is Lissa. You’ll be working together to keep this place in top order.”

  I had to keep myself from blushing as I turned to face him for the first time since he’d walked into the library. I was annoyed to find him smiling at me. Not a sly smile or a knowing smile, just a casual smile. Like he was vaguely happy to see me.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hello.”

  “You two stop having a staring contest and get to work. Take those books and shelve them in the children’s section,” Jenna ordered, pointing at the cart again. “Upstairs.”

  “I know where the children’s section is,” I told her.

  “Cash doesn’t, though. Now hurry up. What if some poor little kid is looking for The Velveteen Rabbit and can’t find it because you guys took so long putting these books on the shelves?”

  I sighed and grabbed one end of the cart.

  “Elevator,” Cash said as I pulled the cart toward the stairs.

  “What?” I looked over my shoulder at him.

  “The elevator,” he repeated, gesturing to our left. “You know there is one right here, don’t you?”

  “Um, yes,” I said slowly. Of course I knew. I was here all the time. I knew the place like the back of my hand. “But it’s awful. It takes forever just to get to the second floor.”

  “Maybe,” Cash said. “But that cart is going to be a bitch to get up the stairs. It looks really heavy. Let’s just use the elevator.”

  As much as I hated to admit it—and to spend any amount of time stuck in an enclosed space with Cash—it really would be easier to move the books upstairs in the elevator. And who knew? Maybe they’d fixed it. I hadn’t used the thing in months.

  “Fine,” I agreed.

  Cash helped me roll the cart into the ancient, microscopic elevator. Now that I was inside again, with the doors closing, I remembered why I’d hated it the first time. Aside from being slow, it was also kind of creepy.

  My fingers tightened around the handle of the cart as the elevator trembled, making horrific scraping sounds as it slid upward at a snail’s pace. Of course, my anxiousness wasn’t helped by the fact that Cash was standing just centimeters away from me, the limited room forcing us uncomfortably close to each other.

  “So… you and Jenna have a lot in common, huh?”

  I looked up from the titles on the cart, narrowing my eyes at him. “What?”

  “Jenna,” Cash repeated, as if I’d misunderstood him the first time. “She reminds me of you.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. She just reminds me of you. You’re both kind of control freaks—not in a bad way or anything, but… You haven’t noticed?”

  “No.”

  “Huh.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s just me, then. But she really reminds me of you. I just remember when we were talking at that party over the summer, you said you had a thing about order and…” He trailed off. I could feel the heat rising on my face when he mentioned that night. “Anyway,” he continued, “she seems like she’s a lot like you.”

  I focused hard on keeping my re
ply cool, free of any emotion.

  “You just met her,” I reminded him. “And really, you don’t know me that well, so you can’t make comparisons. Especially not between me and Jenna. I’m nothing like Jenna.”

  “You sure about that?” he teased, elbowing me playfully. Flirting, the way he did with every girl.

  Despite his romance-novel-worthy name, Cash Sterling was anything but a leading man. We’d gone to the same school since kindergarten, and in all those years, he’d never once had a girlfriend. Hell, as far as I knew, he’d never even hooked up with a girl. But he was a flirt. Chloe called him “the ultimate tease” because he was good-looking, friendly, and charming, and he led all the girls on but never pursued any of them.

  I didn’t understand why it was okay for Cash to flirt with every girl he met and never commit to any of them when, if a girl did the same thing, the guys would call her a cock tease. Guys were such jerks.

  “I’m sure,” I replied, probably with more of an edge to my voice than was fair, but it bugged me that he was comparing me to my worst enemy, and it bugged me even more that he had the gall to flirt with me.

  The elevator didn’t seem to be moving anymore, but the doors hadn’t opened, either. I jabbed the button again, and we lurched upward, as if the contraption had stopped between floors, forgetting to move on. This could not be safe.

  “You okay?” Cash asked.

  “Yes. I just want to get off this thing.”

  Suddenly his hand was over mine, and I realized that I’d been tapping my knuckles against the cart of books. “Don’t be nervous,” he said, squeezing lightly.

  I stared up at him, surprised to find concern in his green eyes.

  “I should have asked you if you were claustrophobic.”

  “I—What?”

  “Isn’t that why you’re such a stressball right now and didn’t want to use the elevator? My cousin’s the same way.”

  “Um… yes. Right. That’s it.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked you into this.”

  “I’ll be okay,” I said, and despite everything, I couldn’t help letting out a little laugh.

  “Well, it’s almost over,” Cash said. “Looks like the doors are about to open.”

  And sure enough, they did. The noisy elevator screeched as it finally halted on the second floor and the metal doors slid aside. Cash removed his hand from mine—it felt like a little jab at my chest—and we pushed the cart out onto the floor.

  “All right, start shelving,” I said, trying to regain my composure. “Someone might be looking for one of these.”

  “Like The Velveteen Rabbit?” Cash grinned and picked up one of the picture books.

  I opened my mouth to argue that I was so not like Jenna, but Cash turned those green eyes on me and I felt myself start to melt a little. I shook my head, laughing against my better judgment.

  “Touché,” I said.

  He grabbed a few books and walked over to one of the shelves, smiling at me as he passed.

  I smiled back, then scolded myself for it. It had taken me nearly a year to relax around Randy, and sometimes it was still a challenge. It shouldn’t have been so easy with Cash.

  As quickly as it had appeared, my smile slipped away.

  chapter seven

  Randy and I had our first big fight this past June, right after school let out. We’d broken up, and I was devastated. But on a hot night in July, Chloe decided to get me out of my funk and drag me to a party at Vikki McPhee’s house.

  “Come on,” she’d said, pulling me from my bedroom that night. “You’ll never get over Randy if you don’t put yourself out there. A few meaningless hookups are exactly what you need right now.”

  When we’d arrived at the party, Chloe gave me a once-over and sighed. “I still can’t believe you’re wearing that. You have some sexy clothes. Why aren’t you rocking them?”

  I rolled my eyes and edged past her into the house. The place already smelled like beer and pot, and the walls were practically shuddering against the pounding bass of the stereo. I wrapped my arms around myself and moved toward the perimeter of the room, staying close to the wall. I wanted to fall through the floor. This kind of chaos wasn’t what I needed right then. Or ever.

  Chloe ran up beside me. “Let’s get something to drink.”

  “You know I don’t drink,” I said.

  “For once in your life, can’t you just let go? Lose control a little? You might actually enjoy not agonizing over every little thing.”

  I shook my head.

  “Have it your way,” she said, shrugging. “But please, promise me you’ll go talk to people? Have a little bit of fun tonight, okay?”

  “Fine.”

  She squeezed my shoulder before hurrying off toward Vikki’s kitchen. I pressed my back against the wall and looked around. More people were arriving, and many were already dancing and shouting along with the music. In the corner, I saw a side table topple over when a boy fell backward onto it. I cringed. I had to get out of there.

  Keeping my word to Chloe, I said a quick, “Hey, how are you?” to Kelsey as she passed me, wearing an expensive-looking white sundress. She gave an annoyed glance—probably deciding that she didn’t want to talk to anyone dressed as badly as I was—and moved on. Just like I’d hoped.

  With my task complete, I edged around the living room and headed toward the back door. Leaving the party wasn’t an option, since Chloe was my ride—as usual—but I could at least get out of this room.

  The sun had just set when I pushed open the door to the back porch. But instead of finding the backyard empty, I discovered Cash Sterling sitting on the steps.

  “Oh, sorry,” I muttered, my hand still on the door. “I’ll leave.”

  He was sitting on the top step of the wooden porch, one of his legs pulled up to his chest while the other stretched out toward the steps below him. His chin had been resting thoughtfully in his hand, but when he heard me, his head turned in my direction.

  “Hey,” he said. And I thought I saw his eyes light up a little, though it could have just been the flickering porch light playing tricks. “No. Stay. I don’t mind.”

  Even though I’d wanted to be alone, I decided that Cash would be better company than the crowd inside Vikki’s living room. I shut the door and walked over to sit beside him on the steps. The smile he gave me was so sweet, so warm, that even in my bad mood, I couldn’t help smiling back at him.

  I didn’t really know Cash that well. We’d had a few classes together, and back before Ellen and I had stopped talking I would see him hanging out with Adam, her boyfriend. We’d talked maybe twice, but we’d never been alone together. Until now.

  “So what are you doing out here?” I asked. “Already tired of the party?”

  Cash laughed. “I guess you could say that. It’s not really my thing. A few of the guys from the soccer team asked me to play designated driver, though. So I agreed to help out. How about you?”

  “My best friend made me come.”

  “Why? I mean, if you don’t want to be here…”

  “She thinks it’ll be good for me,” I explained. “My boyfriend and I… Well, we just split up, and she decided it would be good for me to be social.”

  Cash looked away, and I watched as his sneaker scuffed against the wooden step a few feet below us. “So you and Randy aren’t together now?”

  I almost asked how he knew who my boyfriend was, but I stopped myself. The answer was obvious. Randy was the quarterback, one of the most popular boys in school. Everyone knew who he was dating. Not to mention, Hamilton boasted only about a hundred students per graduating class. It was almost difficult not to be aware of who dated whom.

  “Yes.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Three weeks.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t sound sorry, though. I couldn’t read his tone—caught somewhere between indifference and smugness. I almost stood up and walked back inside t
hen. Almost ran away from his insensitivity.

  But before I could move, he turned to face me again, freezing me on the spot with his gorgeous eyes. “Have you ever played the Star Game?”

  I just blinked at him.

  Cash’s cheeks turned just the slightest bit red before he elaborated. “You have to be here because of your friend, and I’m driving home guys who won’t want to leave until the keg is empty. We’re going to be out here awhile, so we might as well find some way to entertain ourselves, you know? So have you ever played the Star Game?”

  “What’s the Star Game?” I asked.

  “Well… technically, it’s this thing I saw Russell Crowe do in a movie once, but I just kind of turned it into a way to pass the time.” He looked up at the sky, which had now become dark enough to make out the vast number of summer stars. “Okay, pick a shape,” he said.

  “A… What are we doing?”

  “You’re picking a shape,” he said. “Anything. It could even be an object. Or an animal, but sometimes those are harder.”

  “Cash, I don’t—”

  “Just pick one.”

  “Fine. A triangle.”

  He sighed. “That is way too easy.” Then, without warning, he reached between us and picked up my hand. I was startled, and I almost pulled back, but then our eyes met.

  “Relax,” he said.

  And, for once, I did.

  His fingers were warm and callused against mine. He uncoiled my hand and gently forced me to extend my index finger. He made me point to a cluster of stars over our heads, and I watched as he drew a triangle with my finger, using three stars as the points. “See? That’s the Star Game.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Wow… A triangle was too easy.”

  “Your turn,” he said. “I tell you a shape and you have to find it in the stars.”

  I admit, the game was kind of cheesy, but I thought it was sweet of him to try to entertain me when I was so clearly having a bad night. So I played along.

  “All right, what shape?”

  “An elephant.”

  “Are you joking?” I cried. “You said animals were the hardest. You can’t give me an elephant.”