“Or maybe it’s just not me who turns you on.”
I flushed, thinking of how ready and willing I’d been to let Leo do anything he wanted to me. “I’m really sorry, Jake. I like you. I love spending time with you. Maybe if we just hang out a little bit more . . .”
He shook his head. “If I thought that was likely, I’d spend as much time with you as you wanted. But I don’t think it’s going to happen. I think—”
“Hey, bitches.” Gia cruised into the room, interrupting whatever Jake had been about to say. “Did I miss the big layout party? Sorry, I got held up with this damn group project.” She hopped up to sit on the counter, swinging her legs.
Jake closed his eyes for a minute and then turned to face her. “Yeah, we’re done.” His gaze met mine, and I knew he was talking about more than the paper.
“Aw, well, next week.” Gia didn’t appear to be too broken up about the whole situation. “But hey, listen. I got the scoop on some juicy gossip, fresh and hot.”
“We’re serious journalists, Gia. We’re not interested in tabloid shit.” Jake pretended to look lofty.
“Oh, yeah? So no one’s interested in the fact that I just overheard Leo Taylor breaking up with his cheerbitch?”
My head turned toward Gia so fast, I got dizzy. “What? How do you know?”
Gia smiled smugly. “I told you, I overheard it. I was just coming in, and they were the only two in the hallway just outside the locker room. It echoes there. When I realized they were having, like, a serious convo, I stopped walking so I didn’t interrupt. And I just happened to hear every word.”
My heart sped up. I knew that it was stupid, but somehow this news made me believe I might have another chance with Leo. “Did you . . . could you hear who was breaking up with who?” That was important. I couldn’t imagine Sarah not wanting to be with Leo, but stranger things and all that.
“It actually sounded mutual. I mean, I think the cheerleader’s still hot for him, but she was really kind of cool about the whole thing. It was the most civilized breakup I’ve ever heard of between two kids in high school.”
“Huh.” I went back to the computer screen and hit send on the file, but I really wasn’t seeing the page. Suddenly all I wanted to do was to get out of the newspaper office. I didn’t know where I wanted to go, but I knew it wasn’t here.
“Q.” Jake spoke quietly, ignoring Gia, who was still chattering away to us as she flipped through the hard mock-up of the paper. “I get it.”
“What?” I was flustered. “What do you get?”
“I saw your face when Gia mentioned Leo. I can’t say I’m entirely surprised. That night, at Anders’ party, it felt like there was something between you two.” He smiled a little sadly. “No dude is that hostile over a girl he doesn’t care about.”
“But he doesn’t.” I shook my head. “It’s all messy and complicated and . . . I don’t know. But I need to work that stuff out, Jake. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
He shrugged. “Whatever you say. But don’t sweat it. I promise, I’ll nurse my broken heart in private. We can hold onto our working relationship.”
“That’s a relief.” I stood up and gave him a hug, and for the first time since our date, it felt relaxed and spontaneous. “Who else is going to be Woodward to my Bernstein?”
“Hey, wait a minute. I thought I was Bernstein.”
“No way.” I feigned horror. “I’m the only one who could pull off being married to Nora Ephron.”
Jake spread his hands. “You got me there.”
I picked up my books and paused by the door. “Thanks for being so cool about this, Jake. You really are a great guy.”
He made a face, but I could tell he was joking. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get out of here. Go home and think about what you just threw away.”
“I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep tonight, thinking about it.”
“Oh, hey, you’re going now?” Gia suddenly seemed to realize she’d been missing something. “Don’t worry, I’ll help Jake close up. See you around, Quinn.”
“Yep.” Jake winked at me. “See you around, Q.”
***
“Hey, I’m home.” I slammed the front door behind me and hung my bag on the newel post.
My dad was coming down the steps. “Hey, kiddo. Long day at the salt mines?”
“Yeah, you know how Wednesdays are, getting the paper wrapped up. Who made dinner, you or Mom?”
He smirked. “You’re in luck tonight. Yours truly was the chef du jour. The pharmacist of the house sat there and drank wine the whole time I cooked.” He pointed toward the kitchen. “There’s a covered plate for you in the oven. Beef bourguignon.”
“Have I told you that you’re my favorite father?” I stood on my toes to kiss his cheek and followed him into the kitchen.
“What a coincidence. You’re my favorite daughter.”
“That would mean a lot more if I had any siblings.” I picked up a potholder, opened the oven door and reached in to retrieve my plate. “Where’s Mom?”
My father’s face got a little red, and he cast his eyes up to the ceiling. “Ah, she’s upstairs. I was helping her with . . .” His voice trailed off. “Um, something in the bedroom.”
“Ewww.” I clapped my hands over my ears. “Just stop. Yuck, yuck, yuck. Don’t you two realize you’ve been married, like, forever? And you have an impressionable daughter?”
Dad raised one eyebrow at me. “What can I say, sweetie? I still got it. And I did tell you Mom was drinking wine, right? Oh, and she thinks my cooking is totally sexy.”
I pushed the plate back. “Okay, I’ve officially lost my appetite.”
“Seriously?” My father reached for my food, and I curled my body around it.
“No. That was just for effect. Don’t touch this. It’s delicious.”
I had just taken my last bite of beef—and it really was amazing, tender and bursting with flavor—when my phone buzzed.
“Hot date with the newspaper guy?” My dad slid me a sideways glance. He and my mother had been quietly jubilant the last few weeks; they were relieved, I thought, that their daughter was finally doing something other teenage girls did. They’d met Jake before, of course, and they liked him.
“Uh, actually no.” I frowned, trying to stay cool, even while my heart began to pound. “It’s Leo.”
The text was short and more than a little cryptic.
Meet me at the old playground. Please. I need you.
“Everything okay?” My father was watching me carefully over his tablet, where he’d been skimming an on-line newspaper.
“I don’t know.” I stared at the screen of the phone, as though an explanation might appear there. “He wants me to meet him at the playground.” I lifted my eyes to meet my dad’s. “It sounds serious. I think I’ll walk over there, okay?”
My father studied me in silence for a few seconds. “Sure. Take your phone, and don’t go by the shortcut—stay on the main sidewalk. And text me when you get there.”
“Daddy, you do realize I go places all the time? By myself? I’m seventeen. I’ve been walking to that playground since I was nine.”
“Yeah, but it’s dark. You always made that walk during the day. So humor your old man, and promise you’ll text, or I’ll be forced to drive the streets of our neighborhood, slowly, yelling your name out my open car windows. Your full name.”
He’d do it, too. I shuddered at the thought.
“All right, all right. I promise. I’ll send you a text the moment I’m there safely with Leo.”
“Hmm.” He still didn’t look convinced. “I’m not sure I like you hanging out at an empty park late at night with a boy.”
“Dad, come on. It’s not that late. I’m not roaming the streets at midnight. And this is Leo. You’ve known him longer than you’ve known me. Twenty-one days longer, to be exact.”
“He’s still a boy.”
“Oh, Bill, let her be.” My mother had come downs
tairs and into the kitchen without either of us hearing her. She was wearing yoga pants and a thin long-sleeved T-shirt . . . inside out. Her hair was a mess, and her cheeks were ruddy. I decided not to think about it.
“But Carrie—”
“It’s Leo.” My mom’s eyes met mine, and in them I read her understanding. “She’ll be fine. He’ll probably even walk her back here after. Let her go so she can get back at a decent time.” She sidled up to my dad, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling his neck. “I could probably have second helpings of that beef, now that I worked off the first round.”
“Aaaaand on that note, I’m out of here.” I stamped into the foyer where I stopped to slip on a jacket from the front closet. “You two . . . behave yourselves. Watch TV and ignore each other, like other parents.”
I went through the door, shutting it behind me and pausing just outside to answer Leo’s text.
On my way.
Leo
I hadn’t been to this playground since middle school, but when I needed a place to meet Quinn, somewhere quiet and private, that was the first spot that came to mind. I got there first and dropped onto one of the rubber swings, wincing a little when my weight forced the sides into my hips.
“Want a push?”
I hadn’t heard Quinn approach; she must’ve walked to the park. I twisted in the swing to look at her. She stood behind me, her fingers shoved into the back pockets of her faded jeans, and her face was inscrutable. Her hair was pulled up into a messy pony tail, the kind she wore when she was at home in her room, doing homework or reading. She must’ve dropped whatever she was up to as soon as I’d texted. Something small and pleased stirred in me, a little bit of bright in the sea of downright shitty.
“I’d say sure, but I think I’ve outgrown the swing. Damn chains are biting into me.” I grasped the links and pulled myself to my feet. “You came.”
She lifted one shoulder. “You asked me to come.”
I leaned against the thick pole that held up the swing set and the attached slide. “After . . . the way things have been, I wasn’t sure. I’ve been a real asshole. I wouldn’t blame you if you ignored me.”
Her gaze flickered up, sweeping over my face. “You’re my friend, Leo. My best friend. I’d never ignore you when you asked me to do something.” She took the swing I’d just vacated. “What’s up?”
Swallowing hard against the gigantic lump in my throat, I stared across the empty blacktop into the dark. “Remember when we were little, and we’d lay out on a blanket in Nate’s backyard, looking up at the stars? You used to try to tell us that you could count them.”
A small smile curved her lips. “Are you saying I was lying?”
I dropped my head back against the iron pole, closing my eyes. “You were always so sure about everything, Quinn. What was right, what was wrong. You acted like it was easy to know.”
Silence stretched between us, broken only by the soft drag of her sneaker on the pavement as the swing moved. When she spoke again, her voice was tinged with sadness. “I was a kid. It’s not so hard when you’re little. Life gets complicated the older you get.”
“No shit.” I laughed without humor. I stretched my neck, looking up into the clear night sky. “God, Mia. It’s all so fucked up now. Things were better then.”
She sighed. “Maybe.” The chains on the swing creaked, and I could feel their movement through the frame of the structure. “Leo, why did you ask me to meet you tonight? I’m guessing it wasn’t to talk philosophy.” The pole behind me shifted; she was swinging a little higher now, and everything moved in concert. “And if you brought me out here to—to tell me again how much you regret kissing me, you can go to hell. You’re just—”
“My mother has leukemia.”
Everything came to a screeching halt. The pole I was leaning on jerked as Quinn brought the swing to a stop. She stood for a minute, her fingers still wrapped around the chains, the seat resting against her upper thighs. When I let myself meet her eyes, they were round, filled with stricken shock.
And then she was moving, barreling toward me in typical Quinn speed. Before I could take another breath, her arms were around me, pulling me close, offering me the comfort I’d been craving. I let her give it to me, taking for just a few minutes the love she poured over me. She didn’t take away the pain, but her nearness dulled it a little. Or maybe it was more of a shifting of weight, moving the fear and uncertainty from where it had rested on my shoulders to be borne by Quinn and me, together. I remembered something my grandmother used to say, about a burden shared being a grief halved.
She leaned back after a moment and gazed up into my face. “Tell me. When . . . and is she okay? What’s going to happen?”
I fastened my eyes on a spot of white paint on the ground behind her. “They told us tonight. I guess something weird came up in her blood work, during her regular physical. They ran tests, and . . . yeah.” I gritted my teeth together to fight back the tears that wanted to fill my eyes. “Um, I guess they have a plan. She said something about chemo and a bone marrow transplant and needing to find a donor. But honestly, I don’t remember. I kind of checked out after they said the word leukemia.”
My chest shook as the terror there threatened to rip its way out. I wasn’t a mama’s boy, not by a long shot. Not with two older brothers who were more than happy to point out any time I might veer into that dangerous territory. But still, I was the youngest. Simon and Danny had already been in school when I was born, so I’d had Mom all to myself, and we’d been buddies. She wasn’t too girly to teach me how to toss a baseball, how to hold a bat or how to catch a football. And even though baseball was her first love, when I chose to play football instead, she’d never missed a game.
“Leo, it’s okay. This—it sucks. Your mom is one of the best people I know, and I hate that this is happening, but she’s strong, too. It’s going to be hard, and it’s going to be scary, but I know she’s going to make it.” Quinn rubbed my upper arms with her hands, smiling up at me, through the tears that were streaking silently down her cheeks. “What can I do? Do you want to talk, or do you want me not to talk about it?”
That was my Quinn. My Mia. I’d been fucking shitty to her for weeks—longer than that—but the minute I needed her, that didn’t matter. She was here for me, just like she’d always been.
I brushed a few tear drops from her face with my thumbs. “I had to see you. As soon as they were done talking, telling us, and Simon—he was acting all take-charge, trying to figure out how to be here around his work schedule, and Danny just got silent. Like, he didn’t say a word. He shut down. But all I wanted was to get to you. I don’t know how I can get through this, Mia. I can’t do it alone.”
“You won’t have to.” She hugged me tight again and then stepped back, holding onto my hands. “I’ll be here for you whenever you want me, and Nate, too—I know he’ll do anything he can.”
I nodded, but I knew I didn’t need Nate. Not like I needed Quinn. Everything I’d been holding at bay for months, every frustrated desire I’d been fighting back, all the deep, messed-up and undeniable feelings I had for Quinn came roaring back until they were about to eat me alive. I couldn’t think about anything else but the girl standing in front of me, her fingers warm as they gripped mine. All the reasons I’d had to push her away and to pretend I didn’t want her—they all seemed stupid. Idiotic. I’d been wasting my time when I could’ve had Quinn in my arms.
Her green eyes were shining as she looked up at me. There was concern in them, yes, and sympathy, but something else. Something that made the bottom drop out of my stomach and had me leaning over her, sealing my lips on her soft mouth.
She responded at first, lifting on her toes to meet me better, angling her head to fit us together. The rightness of us—Quinn and me, the way we were meant to be—surged over my body and soul.
And then she tore away from me, pressing her fingers to her lips as more tears welled up in her eyes. “Leo—what’re
you doing?” She took a step backward, away from me.
“I thought I was kissing you.” I advanced on her, but she ducked away from me.
“But why? Why are you kissing me, Leo? Because you’re sad about your mom? Because you and Sarah broke up and you need a handy substitute? Or because you’re grateful that I came when you called? Or is it—what did you say the other day? That you feel sorry for me? Is this just another pity kiss that you’re going to pretend didn’t happen tomorrow? Poor Quinn, who can’t get a boyfriend on her own, doesn’t have anyone to kiss her—but it’s okay, because Leo the big football star’s going to spare me a kiss. Thanks, Leo. I really appreciate it. You’re a pal.” She wheeled around, turning her back to me.
“Fuck it!” Out of desperation, I punched at the nearest target, which happened to be the slide. Pain reverberated up my arm, but it was nothing compared to the anguish I was feeling inside. “Fuck it all. I’ve been trying to stay away from you, Quinn. Trying to do any goddamn thing to stay out of your path and keep you away from me, too.”
“But why?” She was crying now in earnest, not the wimpy tears some girls used to manipulate guys, but real, honest-to-goodness ugly crying, sobs wrenching from her chest and shaking her whole body. “Why do you want to stay away from me? You’re my best friend. Or you were.”
“Because I’m not that guy anymore. I’m not the Leo who always did the right thing. I’m not the Leo who stood up to bullies with you. I’m a different person now, Mia. I’m not good for you. I’m a fucking mess. And every time I look at you, all I can think of is how goddamn much I want to kiss you. More than that. I don’t want to stop at just kissing you, Mia. I want my hands all over you. Right now, standing here, I want to bend you over this bench, strip you down—” I broke off, snarling a curse. “I’d ruin you. I’d make you different, and that would kill me.”
“But Leo—” She grabbed for my arm, her grip stronger than I expected. “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t change me if I don’t want you to. I’m not some little girl you can corrupt, you know? I’m only three touchdowns younger than you.”
The Keeping Score Box Set Page 19
