“My mom is far from destitute, but if you want I’ll see if I can find any spare change in the couch cushions.” When I went to throw my apple in the trash, Tom grabbed my arm—not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to keep me from leaving.
“This isn’t a game. Your mom needs you, and we’re both a little tired of your unwillingness to help out. Next weekend, I want you to check his desk, take a few photos, and email them to me.” He forced the business card into my hand. “That’s not too hard for a smart girl like you, is it?”
I narrowed my eyes at him and let his card flutter to the floor. “Let’s talk smart, Tom. You picked the wrong woman if all you want is a payday. The reality is my mom’s never going to get a cent more from my dad, because he’d rather see it burn than share it with her. So, if you want his money so bad, get it yourself.”
“Whoa, whoa.” Tom backed away from me and forced a laugh. “That just got weirdly intense. I think I’m already craving that meal tomorrow and I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He leaned in and lowered his voice as though divulging a secret. “I can get a little hangry if I’m not careful. Let me guess, you, too?” He laughed again. “I, ah, better go grab something before I really put my foot in my mouth. We’ll talk more tomorrow, okay?”
I didn’t reply as I went upstairs to my room. I’d told Adam I’d rather stick a fork in my eye than share a meal with my mom and her boyfriend. Clearly, I’d grossly underestimated. Scowling, I shut the door behind me, blocking out Tom, and then scowled harder. My bedroom had been featured in some magazine when I was twelve and was supposed to represent the perfect preteen girl’s room with light, airy colors and pale wood tones. Nothing overly feminine or youthful. Clean lines, soft fabrics, zero personality. Or I don’t know, someone’s personality but not mine. I didn’t see the point in hanging movie posters or switching the bedding to anything that wasn’t a sea-foam-green leaf print. It wasn’t my room any more than the place I slept over at my dad’s was. One day I’d have my own room, my own space. It’d be tacky and mismatched and I’d let the paint get chipped around the doors instead having the whole house repainted every year in the same colors.
That would have felt nice.
Releasing the doorknob, I moved to sit on the plush mattress and forced the earlier memories from the day to blot out the conversation I’d had with Tom. No sooner did Adam’s face fill my mind than my heart fluttered. He’d been so cute when he first saw me. And nervous. And then cuter still when he tried to downplay how nervous he was. I laughed in my quiet magazine-spread bedroom. The happy feeling faded before the sound did.
He should have been nervous. He just spent an entire afternoon with his not-girfriend.I’dhad to remind him about her. I had to do that more than I liked when we were together. Not that he forgot she existed but sometimes...it was like he let himself stop thinking about her when he was with me. And did that mean he let himself forget about me when he was with her? My stomach lurched and then lurched again. Was I even allowed to feel jealous? I flopped backward on the bed and one of the little peach throw pillows toppled over to rest against my cheek. The smooth satin felt cool and comforting and did nothing to settle the unease swirling inside me.
It wasn’t all because of Adam, or even the distaste Tom left me with.
Shifting off my right hip, I pulled my phone from my pocket and had to scroll way too far back to find the number I wanted. It rang and rang before...
“Hey, you’re early. My mom’s not home yet and if she doesn’t see your name on the phone—” Cherry sighed “—actually she’ll probably want me to put you on speakerphone or she’ll think I’m lying again. I’ll text you when to call, okay?”
“I wasn’t—I’m not calling about your alibi.”
Cherry’s voice went so cold I shivered. “No. No way do you get to back out after we drove all that way to Adam’s school.”
I rolled my eyes and willed my temper to stay in check. “I’m not reneging. I’ll tell your mom whatever you want.”
There was a pause. “Okay. Good.” Another pause. “Then I’ll text you when to call.”
It was my turn not to answer right away. I rolled my eyes but this time the gesture was directed at myself. It was like we’d forgotten how to talk to each other. “What did you think of him?”
“Adam?” I could hear the eyebrow raise in her voice. “I don’t know. He’s cute, I guess. Blushes a lot.”
I felt my cheeks heat. “Yeah, but it’s cute, right?” I scrunched up my nose waiting for her response. It didn’t come right away.
“You want to know if I think the guy with the girlfriend is cute when he blushes?”
It was like my mattress turned into a waterbed sloshing underneath me and a queasy, seasick feeling surged over me again. “At least he doesn’t berate me for wanting to hang out with my friends.”
“Uh-huh. That’s ’cause he can’t tell anyone when he’s with you. He has to lie to his girlfriend so she won’t find out about you. So, yeah, Jo. He’s real cute.”
I curled up on my side, hugging that satin pillow to my chest as my chin quivered once before I stopped it. “It’s not like that. We’re friends so there’s nothing to tell.”
“Then why do you care if he’s cute? Why do you care ifIthink he’s cute?”
My voice went all raspy. “I just wanted to talk to you. Yeah, I wanted to see Adam, but I wanted to see you, too. We never get to hang out anymore.”
“Please. You’re at my house all the time.”
“Yeah, with Gabe and the band. Not you. We never talk and when we do, it’s you asking me to cover for you with Meneik.”
“So I’m supposed to apologize for having a boyfriend when you don’t?”
I shoved my pillow away and sat up. “Ehhh.” I made a game show–buzzer sound. “Try again.”
“Well then, what?”
“It’s not that you haveaboyfriend, it’s the boyfriend you have.”
