“No, it’s probably just nerves. I’ll sleep it off.”
Concern wrinkled his brow and he ran his hand quickly over my thigh.
It was like a Pavlovian response. I’d need to change my underwear as soon as we got back to the house.
“Don’t worry about me. Sleep, Frenchie.” He pulled the hood up higher on my head.
A weak smile was all I could muster before I leaned back against my seat, wedging my head against the window. All the touches and quiet moments almost made it feel like we were a couple, but I’d learned never to read too far into things.
Guys don’t see me that way. The one time I thought a guy did, I’d wound up wanting to bury myself under my high school until graduation. As a member of the stage crew, I was allowed to go on the theater club’s weekend visit to a Broadway show back in high school.
Dexter, the cutest guy in drama club, had ended up sitting next to me. We roamed NYC together before the show and grabbed food together. I was so giddy, I was seconds away from floating off like one of the Thanksgiving Day parade balloons. And when he said he needed to talk and told me all about the girl he really liked but was afraid to talk to, I was probably beaming like a spotlight as I inched closer to him.
Maybe he saw the crazy look in my eye or the way my smile changed, but his smile dropped, plummeted straight off his face. “Oh, you don’t think I’m talking about you, do you? I meant your sister.”
After the way I’d held it together in front of him, I’d deserved to be the lead in the school play. “Of course, who else would you be talking about?” Not a strain in my voice, not a quaver, although inside, I was crawling into a pit of despair.
Nope, not making the mistake of confusing flirting and niceness with him wanting something more from me again. We’d roll back onto campus and things would be back as they should be. No more laying in bed beside Berk. And no more almost-kisses. No more pretending.
We got off the bus and Berk and I shared a taxi back to our street. I fidgeted with the strap of my bag at the bottom of my steps and nudged my glasses up. In another world, this would be the big moment before our kiss, but this wasn’t that kind of world.
“That was probably the craziest weekend I’ve had in a while, and I’m totally including the one where the other team was hazing their freshman with cherries and duct tape.”
I held up my hand. “I don’t even want to know. Thank you for coming. You were a life saver.”
It made it worse that my mom would never say the things she said in private in front of Berk. Way worse because she knew it was wrong. She knew that the words that launched from her mouth like poisoned darts were screwed up, but she did it anyway.
“You’ve been quiet since we got on the bus.”
“I’m tired.” Plastering that smile on my face had made my cheeks all achy.
“I get that.” He took a breath. “We never really talked about it. But about that—”
I cut him off before he could get the words out.
“And I know we were just pretending about the whole dating thing. And the greenhouse. Don’t worry about it. It was nothing. I’ve completely forgotten about it, so…”
Deflect, hide, run. That was how I handled uncomfortable situations. Run for cover if at all possible.
“Let’s just go back to how things were before and leave all that back at Kelland.”
“We don’t—”
And when all else failed, run away.
“Really. It’s okay. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” I bolted up the steps.
“See you in class.”
Shit. Double shit. We were in class together and we were neighbors. Hiding from him wasn’t a solid long-term strategy, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t work for right now. I rested my head against the door, closed my eyes, and dropped my bag on the floor.
“What’s up?”
I yelped and kicked out with my best Karate Kid impersonation with my heart thundering against my ribs. “What the fuck?”
Zoe stood at the bottom of the stairs with a spoon in her mouth and a jar of peanut butter in her hand. She had her hair up in a ponytail, and pajama boxers and a bright pink tank top on.
It made me miss Elle. Times like these, she’d always been there to pick me up after my mom and sister drained me of happiness like emotional vampires.
There wasn’t a stretch mark in sight and Zoe’s healthy, glowing skin was on full display. Probably a nice bikini tan line from her summer vacation to wherever the hell she pleased.
“Is that my extra chunky peanut butter?”
“Maybe.” She looked from me to the jar. “Whoops.” Her mild look of contrition didn’t stop her from sticking another spoonful in her mouth—straight from the jar. “Sorry. It was the only thing I didn’t feel like a dick for eating.”
“What are you doing here?” I grabbed the strap of my bag.
“I live here, remember?”
“Do you remember, would be the better question.”
“You got me there. Why the sadness? You’re about to make me cry.”
“No sadness, I’m fine. It’s been a long weekend and I need to crash before tomorrow.”
She hooked her arm through mine and stopped me from walking upstairs. “Just pretend that I’m…” Elle’s name had escaped her. I could practically hear the gears churning and sparks starting as she dredged her memory for our former roommate whom she’d met twice.
“Elle.”
“Yes!” She patted me on the arm and tugged me down to sit on the bottom step.
“You’re really weird, you know that, right?”
“Mhmm.” She hummed through another spoonful of peanut butter.
“And you owe me a jar of peanut butter.” If only I could be that assertive with my mom, or hell, even Laura. Every time Mom said something, a reply shot to the front of my mouth, crushing my dreams of the loving family I’d always wanted and hoped I might reclaim a sliver of someday if I did everything exactly how she wanted.
“And you’re sad again.”
“Family stuff.”
“I hear you. Mom? Dad? Siblings?”
“Mom and sister.”
“Mean girls.” It was a statement, not even a question.
“Kind of.” I tilted my head and looked over at her.
“Here’s what I know about them. If you stand up to them and show them you’re not going to let them walk all over you? They usually back down.”
“I don’t think it works like that with parents.”
“Can’t hurt.”
A thud from upstairs shook the floor. “Babe, there’s only pomegranate-scented body wash,” a distinctly male voice called out from upstairs and a guy strolled to the top of the steps with my blue, extra wide towel wrapped around his waist.
I looked from him to her.
“And I owe you some body wash and a new towel.” She tapped the spoon against her bottom lip. “We kind of got booted out of Jaxon’s place, so we figured we’d crash here. I hope that’s okay with you.”
“It’s not like you don’t pay rent.” I shrugged and got up from the step.
“You won’t even know we’re here.”