“Why?”
“It’s a nickname I got when—” He stops abruptly, shaking his head. “No, we’re getting off track. I need to know if...” He raises a hand and lets it hover near my cheek, as if he wants to stroke me. Then his hand drops to his side.
I quickly look around to make sure no one saw him almost touch me, but the hallway is still empty. Class started a while ago.
“Were you a virgin?” he finally asks, unhappiness swimming in his blue eyes.
I draw a slow breath and then exhale in an even slower rush. “Does it really matter?” I answer sadly.
I don’t look back as I walk away, but I can feel his gaze on me the entire time.
11
At lunch, I sit with Scarlett and the girls. Jeff joins us halfway through, which I find weird, but everyone, especially Scar, looks happy to see him. I want to ask him why he’s not sitting with his friends, but then I realize... He doesn’t have any. Everyone from his grade graduated already. Like Chase, he’s a nineteen-year-old senior.
I don’t contribute much to the conversation. As usual, my thoughts are muddled. I can’t erase Chase’s expression from my mind, the one he got when it occurred to him that I was a virgin. It hadn’t been horror, per se, but concern, maybe? Shock, definitely. And yeah, I think horror did play a small part.
Trust me, Chase, nobody’s as horrified as I am.
I almost wish I hadn’t walked away from him earlier. We could’ve talked more about it. The sex, that is. I need to talk to someone. The secret is eating me up inside, but who can I confide in?
Scarlett? She’d be horrified, too. And even if she believed that I didn’t know who Chase was beforehand, she’d probably still be a bit disgusted with me for sleeping with a stranger. Scar lost her V-card to Matty Wesser, a boy she dated seriously for two years. The only reason they’re not still together is because his dad was transferred to Denver for work and Matty’s family had to move away halfway through junior year.
Macy and Yvonne? They’d absolutely judge me for what I did.
My parents? They’d lock me in the basement for the next thirty years if they knew what happened between me and Chase.
Everyone else at school, I’m not close with, and it’s not like I can confide in Sandy at the animal shelter. She’s in her midtwenties and would probably offer some really good advice, but she was also my sort of boss, even if I wasn’t paid for the work I did.
That leaves Chase. But he doesn’t want to talk to me, and I walked away from him when the opportunity arose. I regret that now.
“...Kav’s place. His parents are out of town.”
I swear, Troy Kendall has the loudest voice in the world. No matter where I am, I always seem to overhear some BS he’s rumbling about.
“And they just got a new hot tub,” Landon Rhodes, another football player, says gleefully. “A ten-person one.”
“Sweet.”
“I know, right.”
“Yo, Yvonne!” Troy calls over to our table. “You coming to Kav’s tonight?”
Yvonne rolls her big gray eyes at our resident loudmouth. “Who the fuck is Kav?” she calls back.
“Greg Kavill? Kav? Kavi? Kav-ster?”
“Saying it in a hundred different ways isn’t going to make me know who he is,” Yvonne says haughtily, and everyone laughs, even me.
“Quarterback over at Lincoln Public,” Landon says helpfully. “He’s having a thing at his place tonight. Open invite.”
Troy glances in my direction, then Scar’s and Macy’s. “You girls are welcome, too, obvs.”
Yvonne shrugs. “Text me the deets. We’ll decide later.”
“Word,” Troy says before he and Landon turn back to their friends.
The moment the football players are occupied again, Jeff speaks in a low, displeased voice. “You shouldn’t go to that,” he warns us.
That gets my attention. I’d actually been considering going to this thing. If I can’t spend the evening with the dogs at the clinic, a party in Lincoln could be fun—
I almost burst out laughing. Fun? Elizabeth, I chastise myself, do we not remember what happened the last time you went to a party in a different town?
“Why not?” Macy asks Jeff.
“First of all, it’s a school night—”
The girls burst out laughing. “We’re seniors,” Yvonne tells him, still giggling. “We’re all allowed to go out on school nights.”
“Fine. Well, that’s not a good crowd. I’ve heard bad rumors about Kav and his buddies.”
“They can’t be all bad if Troy and Lan are friends with them,” Yvonne points out. “Besides, football parties are usually lit.”
“I’m in, then,” Macy chirps.
“There isn’t going to be anyone there but the Lincoln crowd and maybe a few Darling kids,” Scarlett says scornfully. “And the Lincoln crowd is so trashy.”
“Then I don’t want to go,” Macy says.
Beside her, Yvonne rolls her eyes. Macy’s flakier than dandruff. She jumps on and off bandwagons at the drop of a hat. If the Charlie Manson fan club did become a thing, she’d be the first one to sign up.
As for this Lincoln party, it’s sounding more and more appealing, at least if I can convince one of my friends to come. This time, I can’t take the risk of going alone, but the fact that it’s a different crowd is exactly why I want to go. None of Darling’s students looking at me with pity? Sounds like heaven.
“I want to go,” I say slowly.
“Me, too,” Macy pipes.
Yvonne snickers softly.
I glance at Scarlett. “Will you come if I go? Even if the crowd is trashy?”
She thinks it over. “Yeah, what the hell. I owe you a party after bailing on the one last weekend.”
I grin. “Sweet.”
“And anyway, Lincoln peeps aren’t as bad as the Lex crew.” Then she offers an annoying reminder. “You’re grounded, though.”
“Shit. Right.” I chew on my lower lip, ponder and shrug. “I’ll have to sneak out, I guess.” And why not? At this point, my parents can’t punish me any more than they already have. What are they going to do, break down my bedroom walls?
“You’re not sneaking out,” Jeff says darkly.
I frown at him. “No offense, Jeff, but you can’t tell me what to do. If I want to go to a party, you can’t stop me. And don’t you dare threaten to rat me out to my parents, because that would be a total dick move.”
When he flushes, I know the thought absolutely crossed his mind. “Fine. Then I’ll take you.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “What?”
“If you want to go, I’ll take you.” He reaches for his water bottle and takes a long sip before setting it down. “At least then you’ll have someone there to watch your back.”
There’s a stir of excitement in my belly. “You’ll help me sneak out?”
Jeff grins. “No sneaking out required.”
“But I’m grounded.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll talk to your parents. I’m like the parent whisperer.”
“I want to go, too,” Macy declares, tugging on Jeff’s arm.
He flashes a regretful smile. “Sorry, my car’s a two-seater.” Jeff drives his dad’s old Audi TT, or at least he did before he left for England. “If Scarlett’s going, she’ll have to take her own car.”
“Forget it,” Scar says in a flat tone. “I’m out.”
“Why?” I ask in disappointment. It’s always more fun when Scarlett is around.
“I’d only be going to keep you company. So if Jeff’s going, there’s no reason for me to be there, too.”
Her explanation makes zero sense to me. Why can’t the three of us all keep each other company? But Scarlett picks up her phone and starts scrolling through it, making it obvious she doesn?
??t want to be questioned. So I let it go.
“Meet me after school,” Jeff tells me. “I’ll drive you home. I’ve gotta meet with my guidance counselor now.”
Jeff takes off, and the rest of us finish eating. Scarlett’s quiet for the rest of lunch. I can tell that for whatever reason, she doesn’t like the plan for tonight, so as we’re putting our trays on the conveyor belt, I assure her, “Jeff’s going. Nothing bad will happen to me.”
“It’s Jeff I’m worried about.”
“Ouch.”
She shrugs. “Sorry.” Only I can tell she’s not. “But you’re really all about yourself these days.”
That’s also painful. And I don’t think I totally deserve it, either. I might’ve asked Scarlett to cover for me last weekend, but I’ve always had her back, too. I used to cover for her all the time when she was going out with Matty.
“Jeff’s a big boy,” I retort. “But if you’re so worried about him, then come to the party with us. You’ll be able to keep an eye on him.”
“I already told you, I don’t want to.”
Shrugging again, Scarlett heads toward the cafeteria door. She doesn’t check to see if I’m following her, which tells me she’s done with this conversation. Unfortunately for her, I’m not.
“Scar, come on, wait.” I grab her arm just as she reaches the entrance.
Her expression is cloudy, and she flips her auburn-colored hair over one shoulder like some R & B diva. “What?” she asks tightly.
An unhappy groove digs into my forehead. “Why are you so mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
“You look mad.”
“Well, I’m not.” She flips her hair to the other side. “I just don’t like that you’re dragging Jeff to this party in Lincoln when it’s obvious he doesn’t want to go. I know you’re having a hard time with that asshole killer being back, but don’t take advantage of your friends.”
“I didn’t ask Jeff to take me,” I protest. “I wanted to go with you.”
Scar presses her lips together. “Whatever, Lizzie. I just think you could have handled that differently.”
“Beth,” I say irritably.
“What?”
“It’s Beth. I’ve told you that a million times, but you keep calling me Lizzie.”
“Sorry, Beth.”
This time when she stalks away, I let her go.
We avoid talking to each other in our afternoon classes. Chase shows up for Music History. I avoid him, too. At this rate, I’ll have alienated the whole school by the end of the day.
After class, I pay a quick visit to my locker and then head outside to the parking lot to meet Jeff. He’s already there, and his brown eyes sweep over me as I approach him.
“You look a bit pale,” he observes. “I’m gonna have to take you to get something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“That’s what you think now. Wait until I get a plate of Freddie’s nachos in front of you.”
“I’m really not hungry,” I insist, but Jeff’s not having it.
“We’ll grab some food after we go to the hardware store so I can talk to your dad. Then I’ll drop you off at home, head to my place to shower and change and come back to pick you up around seven. Party won’t get hot ’til about nine or ten, but your folks will be suspicious if I pick you up that late. We can grab some ice cream or something until we’re ready to go there.”
He has our entire night planned. I find myself both annoyed and impressed.
“Sure,” I finally say, because clearly arguing with this guy is pointless. He’s going to do whatever he wants anyway.
“I honestly don’t know how you’re going to convince my dad of this,” I say as I hop into the passenger side of his Audi. “They’re still pissed at me for sneaking out last weekend.”
Jeff grins. “Oh ye of little faith.” He starts the engine. “I’ve got this.”
After ten minutes at the hardware store, I have to concede—Jeff really is the parent whisperer.
“Thank you so much for the advice, sir.” Jeff transfers the box of nails to his left hand so he can shake my dad’s hand with his right. Under Jeff’s arm is a crowbar. I’m holding two screwdrivers.
“No problem, son. It’s good to hear that you’re working with your hands. Not a lot of kids your age have the patience for this kind of work.”
“I’m going to screw up so bad, but I know where to come if I have any questions.”
Dad beams, his chest puffing out. “My door is always open.”
Jeff wraps his arm around my shoulder. “And thanks for giving me a helper.”
“Hard labor will be good for her,” Dad declares with a hearty laugh.
I’m almost gagging at the sight of these two getting along so well. At home, Dad barely cracks a smile. Here with Jeff, he’s laughing like a giddy schoolgirl. I don’t get it—why can’t he be like this with Mom and me? Mom is worried and hysterical half the time, but at least she can still smile. She still laughs when she’s watching a funny show or if I tell a good joke. But Dad just walks around with a dead, vacant expression. It’s like the mere sight of us reminds him of Rachel’s death, and he completely shuts down.
As we stow away the purchases in the back trunk, I eye Jeff suspiciously. “Are you really building a garden arbor in your backyard?”
“What? You don’t believe me?” He snickers. “Of course I’m not building that. Why would I?” He holds up his hands. “These babies aren’t made for manual labor.” As we climb back into his car, he glances over with a broad smile. “Am I good or am I good?”
“You’re good, but I still have to be home by eleven,” I point out.
“I’ll be able to stretch it out. I mean, we worked so hard on the arbor that we decided to take a break before I drove you home, and then we fell asleep and woke up in the middle of the night, and I panicked but figured your dad wouldn’t have wanted us to drive at night.”
I roll my eyes. I think Scarlett has nothing to worry about when it comes to Jeff. He seems perfectly capable of handling himself in any situation. “That’s some story. Your parents aren’t going to narc on you about the unbuilt arbor?”
“Oh, there’s an arbor going up. I’m just not the one building it. And my parents aren’t going to talk to yours.” He looks over. “No offense.”
He means my parents aren’t rich enough.
“Not offended.” Although I slightly am, because it’s not like Jeff’s family is better than mine. Yes, they have loads more money, but money isn’t what makes a person valuable.
At least not in my mind.
Five minutes later, Jeff pulls up in front of the Mexican place. I’m still not hungry, but I doubt he’d listen to me if I told him. I wonder if Rachel knew how domineering Jeff could be. Honestly, I think it would bother me if my boyfriend was like Jeff, making all our plans and not listening when I said something that went against what he wanted.
I quickly push aside the negative thoughts. I’m making him out to be a monster right now, and he’s not. Jeff’s a good guy. He’s just very decisive. Decisive can be a good thing.
Besides, if it weren’t for him, I’d be stuck at home tonight, sitting in a bedroom without a door and staring at the wall because my parents took my phone away.
So when Jeff turns to me and asks, “We gonna split some nachos or what?” I muster up a big smile and say, “Absolutely.”
12
As planned, Jeff picks me up around seven and we grab some ice cream. He talks about England the whole time, but I’m okay with that because I don’t particularly want to talk about myself. While he blabs, I send Scarlett a text asking if she’s changed her mind about the party and she responds with a curt no. Okay then.
Before the party, we stop by Jeff’s house.
“I’ve gotta trade ca
rs. This is way too expensive to take to Lincoln,” he explains as he drives past the gates and down the long driveway to his, well, there’s no other way to explain it—mansion. I don’t know what Jeff’s dad does, but they have lots and lots of money.
He bypasses the circular drive in front of the house and pulls up along a side entrance. “Wait here,” he says.
One side of Jeff’s house could fit the entirety of ours. I’ve never been inside, but Rachel says it reminded her of a house you’d see in a magazine and that when she talked, it echoed. I mean, she said that. Back when she was alive.
Toward the back, there’s an indoor pool with a slide and a hot tub. Despite all the extras, Jeff never has parties here. Rachel says—said that he’s very particular about who he allows in his space. I guess that’s why I’m waiting outside instead of being offered a glass of water or something.
Suddenly, I experience a teeny jolt of panic. Because, what am I doing hanging out with Rachel’s boyfriend? This feels weird and sort of like a betrayal and—
And he’s not her boyfriend anymore, I have to remind myself. Rachel doesn’t have a boyfriend, because Rachel isn’t alive. And I’m not really “hanging out” with Jeff. He’s doing me a solid tonight, and I appreciate it, but I don’t have any interest in starting something up with him.
Whether she’s dead or not, Jeff will always be my sister’s boyfriend to me.
Jeff returns, jangling a pair of keys. He changed into a loose-fitting blue button-down that’s only halfway tucked into jeans. He points toward the rear of the house. “I’ll be right back.”
“I can walk to the car with you.”
“Nah.” He waves me off. The ends of his shirt flap as he jogs away.
I look down at my own jeans and tight T-shirt. I wish I was wearing a skirt, but Dad wouldn’t have believed I was going to help out with building if I was dressed to go partying.
A minute later, Jeff pulls up in a nice four-door sedan. “Get in.”
I climb inside and glance around the tidy interior.
“Sorry about this piece of trash,” he says, “but I can’t risk my baby.”