“Tonight?” That was news to me. “We can’t. Donnie’s doing something with his family.”
“Donnie’s free after seven,” Lucas said, “and then we’re hanging out.”
I glanced at the clock readout on the microwave, frowning. “I’ve got to help Gram get all the dishes back home, help her clean up—”
Lucas cut me off. “I’ve already cleared it with Gram. She called this morning to double-check on stuff with Mom, and I spoke with her. Asked if you could get off early tonight. She said yes.”
Of course she’d said yes. And of course Lucas had talked to her. As soon as I got home tonight, she’d bombard me with questions. “Are you and Lucas back together? Why are you hanging out with each other? Do you want to be back together?”
Questions I didn’t know how to answer.
“Besides, Blaire, it’s only four. You really think Mom’s shindig is going to run for much longer? Gram’s probably going to start loading up the car soon.”
There it was again. That familiarity. That hint that he knew me, my life, my family on a personal level. And he did. He’d been there for holidays and birthday parties. For nearly years, he’d been in my life.
Which made everything harder. “She’s not your gram,” I said with a serious tone, pushing off the counter. “Stop calling her that.”
“It’s a habit.”
“Well, break it.”
For a moment, we stared at each other, locked in competition. Whoever blinked first would be wrong.
It wasn’t me, of course. He was the one in the wrong. He shouldn’t be talking to Gram behind my back, trying to weasel his way into my life. The two of them had probably talked on the phone for hours and conspired about this very moment. Was that why Gram had asked me to come inside and make the lemonade? Why she’d made me redo my makeup this morning? I would’ve laid money on it. And all because Lucas had decided it’d be a good idea to try and win over my own grandmother.
But guess what, Lucas? She’s loyal to me.
Despite my being right, though, I couldn’t stop myself from reflexively blinking, silently declaring myself the staring-contest loser.
Lucas sat back in his seat, satisfied. “Are you planning on wearing that tonight?”
“My pretty, pretty princess outfit?”
“Oh, is that what you’re dressed up as?”
I fought the urge to reach over and smack him. “I’d never go out in public in this thing.” You know, if I wasn’t getting paid for it.
Lucas rested both of his elbows onto the countertop, leaning forward until his head rested on the heels of his hands. Peering up at me through his lashes, he said, “Who said anything about going out in public?”
“Dead Baby Killer?” I demanded, holding the DVD case in my hand. The cover art looked so cheap with a picture of a doodled baby on a plain red background. The baby’s eyes, though, were entirely black, and its smile looked smeared with paint. Probably supposed to be blood, but the shade was way too bright. “What kind of stupidity is this?”
“Not stupidity,” Donnie said as he ripped the case away. He was probably afraid I’d throw the DVD case against the wall. “It’s an art.”
Lucas nodded from where he sat on the adjacent couch. We all sat downstairs in Donnie’s finished basement, where the giant flat-screen was positioned against a concrete wall. The couches were well-loved and mismatched. Lucas sat on the red-and-blue plaid sofa, while I sat on the velvet green one. Perfect distance. “Yes, being such a tragically horrible movie is an art. I mean, it’s a thousand-year-old baby who comes back from the dead to go on a killing spree. How epic is that?”
Yeah, so epic.
Donnie knelt in front of the DVD player, analyzing the cases. “We’ve got a good lineup. After Dead Baby Killer, we’re going to watch Zombears and then Nun Zombies 2, because the second is way better than the first.”
“What’s with you guys and the undead? And are you sure we’re going to get through everything in one night?” Please say no.
“Of course,” Lucas said, all but scoffing. “We’ve had longer movie nights before.”
Donnie slid the DVD into the player and pushed to his feet. “I’m going to go make popcorn. We still like extra butter, right?”
“Yes,” Lucas and I answered at the same time.
Once Donnie headed upstairs, I couldn’t ignore the strangeness that hung in the air. Meeting in Donnie’s basement, binge-watching a few movies—it felt like old times. But I never sat on this couch; I always sat on the plaid one with Lucas.
Donnie had a rule about not being too lovey-dovey in front of him, so we’d held hands under the blankets, using it to shield our lovey-dovey moments. But now we sat separated, and my hands were planted firmly in my lap.
This couch was much lumpier than the plaid one.
I drew my knees up to my chest, my leggings stretching with the movement. I’d gone home halfway through helping Gram clean up her trays and lemonade pitchers to change, as per Lucas’s order. Even though I’d hoped otherwise, Gram hadn’t asked me to stay. “Oh, of course, Blaire, go,” she’d said. “You haven’t been out of the house in weeks. You need to live a little.”
Yeah. Ouch.
“Did you ever read your dad’s letter?”
I jerked at the suddenness of Lucas’s voice, immediately thinking about the ugly orange envelope in my backpack. “Aren’t you nosy?”
“Not nosy,” Lucas said now, not even looking at me. He studied the trailers on the TV as if they genuinely interested him. “Just respectfully curious. You did flaunt it in my face the other day.”
My jaw dropped. “I did not! You read it over my shoulder!”
“Mmm,” was all that came from him, nearly drowned out by the music rising on the TV.
I settled back deeper into the sofa cushions. “I know what you’re doing. You’re pretending to be disinterested to get me to tell you. Reverse psychology doesn’t work on me.”
“I think you’re overthinking this, Bee. I was only trying to make conversation.”
Oh, yeah. Right. He’d been Nosy McNoserson the entire time, and he claimed that now he just was “making conversation”? Psh. I didn’t buy it.
I let out a sharp sigh. “If you must know, I kept it, but I didn’t read it. And I’m not going to. I can’t even imagine opening it—the idea makes me sick. I don’t need to hear you give me crap about not reading a letter from my dad, okay? Gram’s got that base covered. Seriously.”
Lucas watched me as I went on my small rant, eyes wide. “You sure are defensive, aren’t you?”
I clenched my teeth together. “You know, I think I’m seeing too much of you. Two days in a row is too much.”
Now his voice sounded amused. “You used to see me every day before.”
Before, before, before.
Gah. Could Donnie take any longer? I folded my arms tight across my chest. “Can you be quiet? I’m trying to watch the trailers.”
I wasn’t. What I was trying to do, though, was effectively block him out. No boy sat on the ugly couch across the room, surely not a boy I’d kissed before. Definitely not an ex-boyfriend. Nope. Not there. The basement was empty, and I sat by myself, watching these crappy trailers.