He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. “You have no idea how scared I’ve been that you’d figure it out and be furious.”
I rolled back over to my stomach, although I could still feel Nate’s eyes on the back of my neck. “Nope. It’s done. And even though . . .” My voice trailed away. “Even though it hurt, and even though I never would’ve ended things myself, maybe Leo’s dad was right. We must not have been meant to be. If Leo really loved me—” An unexpected sob caught in my throat. “He wouldn’t have listened to anyone. Not you, not his father—no one. It was just easier for him to break up with me than to figure out all the stuff happening between us. You know, like his partying and the football team . . . and what might’ve happened when we went to college. He chose all of that over me.”
Nate didn’t respond right away. I heard the squeak of my desk chair as he shifted, and I sensed that he was trying to decide whether or not to speak. When he did, his voice was cautious and tentative. “You’ve changed since you guys broke up. But so has Leo.”
I forced a laugh. “Oh, yeah? Seems like he’s still partying pretty hard. From what I hear, anyway.” And I did hear. It was impossible not to know what the star of the school’s football team did. Matt Lampert was the quarterback, and he was definitely popular in his own right. But there was just something about Leo, some kind of charisma, that made him stand head and shoulders above even Matt. Of course, from my point of view, it was easy to see who was hotter; Leo, with his wide gray eyes and light brown hair, his broad chest and long muscled legs . . . not to mention that ass . . .
I mentally shook myself. Wandering down that path wasn’t healthy for me. Only heartache lay at the end.
“Yeah, he’s still going to parties, but he isn’t hooking up. Or it doesn’t seem like he is. I never see him with any girls, and the cheerleaders are always whining about how he’s not interested anymore.”
I’d noticed the same thing, but I’d been afraid to acknowledge it, even in my own thoughts. “Maybe he’s just being really discreet about his hook-ups.” I glanced over my shoulder at Nate.
He smirked. “Yeah, ‘cause that sounds like Leo.”
I rubbed my eye. “You know what? I really don’t want to talk about Leo anymore. I need to finish this reading, or I’m going to fail my midterms.”
“Yeah, okay.” The chair groaned again as Nate turned to face the desk. I’d just found my place in the book I was reading when he spoke again.
“Quinn, you want to go to prom with me?”
I was so surprised that the heavy textbook slid from my fingers. “Prom?”
“You know, it’s that big dance for the upperclassmen. Rite of passage, all that stuff. We’re supposed to spike the punch and maybe even join in a musical number where the whole class sings together.”
“You’ve been watching Grease again, haven’t you?”
He snorted. “No. I only ever watch with you.”
“Whatever, dude.” I kept my gaze glued to the page in front me, hoping I’d distracted Nate enough that he didn’t realize I hadn’t answered his question. I wasn’t surprised he’d asked me; I’d been expecting it, actually. But I hadn’t been expecting it tonight, in the context of this conversation. “Thanks, but no. I’m not going to prom. Matter of fact, I’m thinking of asking my parents if we can go down to the shore that weekend, so I don’t have to deal with the whole thing.” My mom and dad had finally bought the house at the Jersey shore that we’d rented for a few weeks each summer during my childhood. They planned to spend more time there once I was away at college.
“You might regret not going. Someday.” Nate was persistent, I’d give him that.
“Maybe.” I pushed myself to sit up, stretching a little. “But I’m willing to take that risk. Hey, why don’t you ask Gia? I don’t think she’s got a date yet.” Our fiercely independent and strong-willed friend worked on the newspaper with me. Over the past year, she and Nate had gotten to be buddies; that was no easy thing, as Nate tended to be closed off to anyone outside our immediate circle. And since Leo and I had broken up, that circle had gotten considerably smaller.
Nate lifted his shoulder. “No, I don’t think so. First of all, isn’t she against proms on general principle? She’d probably want to go just to make fun of the whole thing. And if you’re not going to go, I guess I won’t either.”
I felt a twinge of guilt, but I pushed it away. “Well, I think you should go. But if you don’t, you can come down the shore with us. We’ll drown our promless sorrows in pizza and saltwater taffy.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Nate stood up, pausing a minute to find his balance before he stepped away from the desk. “I guess I better head home. It’s getting late.”
“Okay.” I rose, too, and grabbed my wallet from the bookshelf. “Let me find my keys.”
I heard Nate’s long exhale. “I wish you didn’t have to drive me. It makes me feel—” He didn’t finish, but I already knew what he meant. The weakness in his legs and hips was a little improved, but not enough for him to be medically cleared for a license. I knew it was an ongoing source of frustration for him.
“Nate. Honestly. Not being able to drive doesn’t make you any less of a man in my eyes.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek, glad that he’d topped me in height a few years back. “And I’m happy to give you a lift.”
“Fine.” He caught my arm before I could pull away completely, and for a moment, his bright blue eyes held mine. My heart thudded, but not in anticipation, unfortunately. Part of me wished I could feel something more than friendship for Nate, but I didn’t. He was my beloved friend. The one I could talk to about anything, the boy I’d known as long as I’d been drawing breath. But there wasn’t any desire there; his touch didn’t make me tingle or want.
I didn’t want to think about that other friend, the one I’d known just as many years. The one who, with a single glance, could make me melt with need. The one who’d broken my heart so badly, I didn’t know if it would ever mend.
As if he could feel my thoughts stray toward Leo, Nate scowled and released my arm. Turning away from me, he opened the door and headed for the steps, which I knew he’d navigate slowly. I waited a few minutes before I followed him down.
“Hey, honey, your mom just sweet-talked me into picking up dinner from Mandarin Inn tonight. You want your regular garlic chicken?”
“Hmmmm.” I hummed under my breath, setting down the book was reading as my dad leaned through the doorway of my bedroom. “Yes, please. Oh, and can we get a side of fried won ton, please?”
“Sure. Anything for my high school graduate daughter.” He winked. “Mom’s calling it in, so by the time I get there, it should be ready. You hungry?”
I shrugged. “I guess. It’s not like I’ve done anything today but lay around and read. Hard to work up an appetite doing that.”
“Depends on what you’re reading. For instance, in the book I’m reading, the main character keeps ordering Chinese food. I’m thinking maybe your mom somehow planted subliminal messages in it.”
I smiled. “I wouldn’t put it past her.”
“Pesky woman.” He smirked, because we both knew that my mother had him totally wrapped around her little finger. “Hey, you okay, hon? You know, I didn’t want to say anything before, but shouldn’t you be out raising hell, whooping it up now that you’re done with school? Mom and I had this whole speech prepared about how you needed to think about your future before you got drunk and disorderly. We’re disappointed that we haven’t gotten to use it.”
“Sorry about that.” I picked up my book. “But it’s not my scene. Plus, I’m not really in the celebrating mood. So I finished school. Big deal. It just means I get to go to another school for another four years. Maybe I’ll be in more of a party mood after college graduation. Stay tuned.”
Daddy grinned. “You can count on that, sweetheart. Nothing could keep me from being there the day you graduate from Evans, summa cum laude, valedictorian, the youngest hire at
the . . .” He cast his eyes up. “New York Times.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “Hold onto the dream. I’ll just be happy if I make it through.”
“You will, honey. You can do anything you decide you’re going to do. Never forget that.”
I waved my hand. “Sure, sure, sure. Go get my Chinese food, oh wise one. Now that you’re talking about it, I’m starting to get hungry.”
He leaned down to kiss my forehead. “Your wish, my command. Be right back, toots.”
Listening to him clump down the steps as only a male could do, I smiled again. I heard him talk with my mom for a minute—probably making sure she’d called in our order and kissing her before he left—and then there was the jangle of keys and the slam of the front door.
I flipped over on my bed, rolling onto my stomach. I had what my mom called the post-graduation-let-down-blues; yesterday I’d capped off four stellar years of high school by showing up at the ceremony, pretending to toss my cap, and then hanging out at a backyard barbecue with my extended family, as well as my best friend Nate and his parents. It wasn’t exactly a wild celebration, even after my great-aunt told us a story about being at Woodstock and demonstrated how she’d danced there.
I’d expected to feel different. I thought something might change. But no, it was just more of the same.
The high and low point of graduation had both come at the same time, when my mother and Sheri had insisted on posing Nate, Leo and me together for a picture. I hadn’t been that close to Leo in a year. When he’d put one arm around me and pulled me tight up against his side, it had felt so painfully familiar that I’d had trouble breathing. Dizzy with want, I’d lost my balance and had to cling to Leo’s arm briefly. I’d murmured an apology, and to my shock, he’d caught my eye and said softly, “Me, too.”
If I were still the kind of girl who harbored hopes and dreams, I might’ve thought Leo meant something deeper by those two words. Since I wasn’t, I’d tamped down any flare of optimism and turned away.
The summer stretched before me, feeling just as empty as the past year had. My mom and I were planning to stay down at the shore; since she worked exclusively on-line, designing and maintaining websites, she had the freedom to do that wherever she wanted. I’d scored a part-time job at an ice cream shop around the corner from our beach house. My dad would commute on weekends, apart from a few weeks of vacation from the pharmacy where he worked.
Nate would probably come visit with his parents. And maybe even Lisa and Joe would make their way down for a weekend; Lisa was feeling well enough now to make the hour-long drive. She was officially in remission from the leukemia that she’d been fighting for almost two years. It would be good for them all to be together again, I thought. As hard as I’d tried to avoid causing any tension between the three couples—my parents, Nate’s and Leo’s—after Leo and I broke up, I knew there was still some residual awkwardness. Which was a shame, of course, since they’d been all been friends for over eighteen years.
Shifting to my side, I closed my eyes, willing away the lingering residual pain that always came when Leo crossed my mind. It had to go away someday, I’d decided. And once I left town to start my new life up in New England, at Evans College, I’d be able to put behind me Leo and those shining months when we’d been us . . .
I must’ve dozed for a few minutes, because the next thing I knew, my mom’s voice floated into my room.
“Quinn, sweetie, want to toss some paper plates and chopsticks on the table? Your dad should be home any time now.” She paused, stopping in my doorway much as my father had a little bit before. “He must’ve run into someone and got talking. You know how he is.”
“Oh, yeah. I know.” I swung my legs off the bed. “Some little old lady comes up and says, ‘Oh, Mr. Russell, I need to ask you a question about the cream you gave me last week . . .’ And then one hour later, they’re still talking.”
“Meanwhile our Chinese food is getting cold.” She shook her head. “Well, come on down and help me set up, so we can eat as soon as he gets here.”
Mom and I didn’t fuss; we were both still tired from the graduation party. A few random balloons floated around the house, looking lackluster and wan as the helium seeped out. The folding tables and chairs were propped against the side of the house out on the porch, and some crepe paper fluttered in the breeze.
I laid out leftover paper plates, bright purple with orange lettering spelling out GRADUATION in letters that were meant to look fun.
“Did we have any napkins left?” I called into the kitchen as I slouched against the back of a chair. “And can you bring out some serving spoons?”
“Sure.” Mom sounded distracted, but I heard the silverware drawer rattle as she opened it. A few seconds later, she came into our small breakfast nook, holding a handful of spoons and frowning at the phone in her hand.
“What’s wrong?” I took the spoons and set them in the middle of the table.
“Oh, nothing. I tried to call Daddy, just to hurry him along if he did get talking to someone. But it went right to voicemail.”
“Huh.” I slid out a chair and sat down. “It’s probably dead. You know how he is. Always forgets to charge it.”
“Yeah. Probably.” Still, she gnawed at the corner of her lip. “But he knew how hungry I was. I don’t think he’d dawdle. Not on purpose. I hope . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Hey, while we’re waiting, want to help me pull down the last of that crepe paper? If it rains tonight, that’s going to be a mess to clean up.” I pointed out to the porch. “Daddy and I were going to do it later today, so if we take it down now, we can guilt him about it.”
My mother smiled. “I like the way you think. Okay, you bring the ladder, and I’ll get a trash bag.”
We’d just about finished cleaning up when we both heard a car around the front of the house. Mom grinned, relief evident on her face.
“There he is.” Stretching her arm long, she snagged the last scrap of crepe paper from the corner of the porch ceiling, crumbled it in one fist and tossed it across to me. She climbed down from the ladder, brushing her hands over her thighs. “Take that bag to the garage, will you, and I’ll have everything set up to eat when you’re done.”
“Sure. Although I know you mean you want me out of the way while you give Daddy a little hell for making you worry.”
My mother shook her finger at me. “You just go take care of that trash. I’ll see to your father.”
I laughed, tied up the bag and went through the back door of the garage, dropping the bag into one of the already-overflowing cans and cutting through to the kitchen. My stomach growled; I was hungrier than I’d thought.
“Hey, where are you guys?” I closed the door from the garage, glancing from the set table in the breakfast nook to the empty kitchen. I caught sight of my mom from the corner of my eye, standing in the front hallway. “Oh, geez, you two. I mean, he was only gone like an hour . . .”
I stopped speaking when I stepped into the hall. My mother was frozen, one hand to her throat. And in the open doorway, two men dressed in police uniforms shifted their gazes toward me.
They were both holding their hats in their hands. I didn’t know why that struck me, but it did; I couldn’t tear my eyes away the way they held the flat caps. One of them, who was a bit shorter than the other, was turning the hat in his hands, little by little.
The taller policeman cleared his throat. “Are you . . .?” He looked at my mom again, then back at me. “Uh, Bill Russell. Are you his, uh, daughter?”
I nodded, because my throat had sealed.
“Okay.” The other man spoke now. “We—we’re sorry to have to inform you that there was an accident. Mr. Russell was involved in a collision, and he suffered extensive, serious injuries.” His eyes flashed toward my mother again. “You and your—uh, your mother? We’d like to drive you to the hospital right now.”
“Is he all right? Daddy’s okay, right?�
� My own voice sounded foreign to my ears.
The first officer’s lips tightened. “The emergency medical technicians responded to the accident immediately and treated the victims on the scene. They transported Mr. Russell to the hospital, but unfortunately, his injuries were extensive, and he succumbed to them upon arrival.”
“Succumbed?” I screeched. “Succumbed? You mean he’s dead? Is that what you’re saying? If that’s what you mean, then why the fuck don’t you just say it? Is he dead? Is my father dead?”
Their expressions didn’t waver. The shorter policeman nodded. “I’m sorry. Yes, we’re sorry to tell you that Mr. Russell was pronounced dead upon arrival, despite the best efforts of the doctors.”
The taller man took a half-step forward. “Do you have family? Is there someone we can call for you, to meet us at the hospital?”
I started to shake my head. My family had all been here with us the day before, but I couldn’t bear to think about calling them now, having to tell them—no. Instead I fumbled in the back pocket of my shorts, pulling out my phone.
“Lisa and Joe Taylor. Sheri and Mark Wellman. They’re in my contacts.” With shaking fingers, I punched in my security code and handed the phone to the closest man. “Call them. Lisa and Joe Taylor. Sheri and Mark Wellman.”
My words, those names, finally penetrated my mother’s stupor, and she moved, wrapping her arms around her middle and emitting a loud, high-pitched keening that I was certain I’d hear to the end of my days. I clapped both hands over my ears, curling onto myself and dropped to my knees, screwing shut my eyes and swan-diving into oblivion.
“Can’t you drive this fucking car any fucking faster?” I hunched over, one hand braced on the dashboard, as though I could move us along the freeway.
“No, I can’t. Or let me amend that. I won’t. I’m going five miles over the speed limit. That’s the best I can do.”
The Keeping Score Box Set Page 31
