“Hey!” She skipped through the doors and waved with her whole arm.
Meg lifted her head, and Bailey gasped. “What’s wrong?” Meg’s face was pale and her eyes were just…flat. “Are you still mad at Chase?”
Meg grunted once. Bailey couldn’t tell if that was a yes or a no or a laugh or a sob. “Hey…so Chase said he’ll help me with the game. Isn’t that great?” Bailey bounced on her toes.
Flat dark eyes snapped to hers. “Great. Sure.”
Bailey bit her lip and blinked back tears. Meg was—oh! Of course, she saw the hug! Achievement: Unlocked. Bailey swallowed her smile and glanced over her shoulder. “Chase should be here in a minute. He’s picking up burgers for his entire family. He was supposed to pick up Dylan and forgot, so Dylan walked all the way home by himself, and his parents are totally pissed about it, and then Ethan and Evan cried because Dylan and Chase were fighting, and then Connor got mad because Dylan yelled at him, and all that made his parents even angrier,” she said before she paused for a breath. “So Chase promised to buy everyone Happy Meals to make them feel better.”
Meg only stared at her, so Bailey thought she should tighten the screws—nothing too cruel, just a little twist. “Oh, I almost forgot why I came in. I just wanted to tell you not to come by after work. Chase and I will be working on the game. I mean, you can come over if you want to, but Chase will be there and I know you don’t like leading him on and stuff, so—”
“So.”
Meg said nothing more. Bailey shivered. She’d always heard about people acting cold, but she’d never actually been on the receiving end of such frost before, and she didn’t like it. But it was for the best of reasons, and Meg would forgive her.
Eventually.
She hoped.
She glanced over her shoulder again, saw Chase carrying two huge bags of food, and decided it would be best if she helped him instead of waiting in here. “Bye!” She spread the word over two syllables, waved, and hurried out of the theater before Meg said a word, biting back her smiles all the way home.
When Chase dropped her in front of her grandparents’ house, she figured she’d find Gramps in the family room with his newspapers and coffee. Gran would probably be doing the laundry or making up some delicious treat in the kitchen. She walked up the porch steps, fished for her key, and heard a car pull into the drive. She turned, watched her mother climb from a hot sports car, a BMW coupe by the looks of the front end. Bailey had dated a boy who had driven one—well, it must have been his parents’ car—but it was still pretty cool. He’d taken her to the movies and to dinner and dropped her off. What was his name? With a mental shrug, she decided it didn’t matter. He’d never asked her to go out with him again. Stupid jerk.
Nicole climbed out of the passenger seat, her curly blond hair ruthlessly straightened by a Brazilian blowout. She didn’t shoot Bailey the warning look, the one that warned her time and again she was to pretend to be Nicole’s kid sister, not her daughter. Bailey froze in place. Should she run down and meet her or stay where she was? Her entire routine was now out of step. Nicole smiled brightly and waved, and Bailey instantly knew her mother planned to introduce her to the latest guy.
This was serious. Like big. Deal. Serious.
Okay, I can do this. She shot back her own bright grin and a waved. “How was your trip?” she asked, slipping into a new routine—that of the loving daughter.
“Bailey, this is John. John, this is my daughter, Bailey.” Nicole’s smile was pretty realistic, and she even slipped an arm around Bailey’s waist, pulling her close. Bailey only just managed to keep her face from registering shock at this major playbook revision.
John never got out of the car to meet her. That cost him some points in Bailey’s opinion. He leaned over the floor-mounted shifter and shook her hand. He was hot, she supposed, in that soft corporate way she knew her mother found attractive. He gripped her hand longer than necessary, and his eyes did a careful head-to-toe inspection. One look at the gleam in his dark eyes, and she knew exactly what thoughts were circling his brain.
Perv.
She tugged her hand out of his grasp and subtly wiped it down her pants.
After a moment or two of small talk, John reversed out of the driveway and headed down the street. Nicole stared after the car, her expression unreadable.
“So?” Bailey dropped the act. “How was it really?”
Nicole dropped her arm from Bailey’s waist. “I don’t know yet. When he found out I live with my parents, he freaked and actually asked me if I was in debt.” They unlocked the front door, called out greetings to Gramps, and walked into the kitchen. “Then he had the nerve to suggest I was only interested in his money.”
Maybe it wasn’t the only thing that interested her, but money was a big factor in who Nicole dated, though Bailey knew better than to point that out.
“So I told him about you. He handled unwed teen mom better than gold digger.” Nicole poured coffee into a cup and sat at the kitchen table. “We have another date lined up.” Nicole saw Bailey’s frown. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to not have to pretend to be my sister anymore.”
“Mom, do you love this guy even a little?”
Nicole looked at her over the rim of her coffee cup, her blue eyes serious. “Love?” She laughed once. “Bay, love is—oh, hell. I was in love once. Real, gut-twisting, toe-curling love.” She stared into the bottom of her cup and shook her head. “It wasn’t enough.” When she lifted her eyes, Bailey gasped at the heartbreak in them. “I wasn’t enough.” Nicole blurted in an uncharacteristic moment of total honesty. “John’s good for me, Bailey. As long as we like each other, the rest will come.” Nicole stood, drained her cup, and put it in the sink. “See you later. I need to shower.” She waved and went upstairs.
Ewwww.
Bailey washed the cup her mother left in Gran’s sparkling sink, her mouth in a tight line. She hated when Nicole performed her act. This was the guy she hoped to spend her life with! Wasn’t love supposed to be exciting and passionate and romantic and fun? Bailey knew that was her fault. Nicole often told her that most of her boyfriends freaked out and took off as soon as they set eyes on Bailey. They didn’t want a kid any more than Nicole did. A pang of guilt halted Bailey’s thoughts, and she reminded herself that at least Nicole tried. Her dad hadn’t even stuck around long enough for that. He’d bailed the second the stick turned blue…or the plus sign appeared…or whatever the tests did seventeen years ago.
She set the coffee cup in the dish drain to dry and trudged upstairs to her room. Nicole’s off-key shower singing made her smile. Her date must have been more fun than she’d shared. That was something at least. But then Bailey’s smile faded. She didn’t have a teen daughter of her own, and yet guys didn’t stick with her very long either. Maybe it was a Grant curse. Maybe she should just accept reality and stop dreaming about love and happily-ever-afters and be more like Meg. Practical, realistic, determined Meg, who wasn’t going to let any guy sway her from her plans, including the guy next door who was madly, passionately, and pointlessly in love with her.
Bailey clicked through channels for five solid minutes before she huffed out a heavy sigh and tossed the remote to her comfy full-sized bed and wondered why she even bothered to try watching TV because there was never anything good on unless it was Thursday night when The Vampire Diaries aired. She thought about playing Xbox, but what fun would it be without Simon? She logged into Facebook and read the status updates her friends had posted. No, it wasn’t true that she’d bloodied Simon’s nose. No, it wasn’t true that she’d caught Simon with Caitlyn’s pom-poms and—gasp—of course it wasn’t true that she was pregnant.
God! She rolled her eyes. People should get a life. She abandoned Facebook and decided to update her blog. She typed her name and password and waited for the site to appear. Her blog had been a work in progress, as Meg always
said, since the day she’d started it. At one point, she’d called it “Grant’s Random Ramblings”—that had been when she was in her heavy metal rock phase and had a mad crush on a satellite radio DJ named Grant Random. She’d written a three-part series on stamp collecting—that’s when the site had seen its lowest dip in visitors ever—and then switched to reviewing her favorite TV show episodes. Those were always fun. But lately, the blog had become a place where she could just muse and vent and wonder and dream, which is why she now called it “Take It for Granted.”
It’s been a hard day. I guess days are always hard after a breakup, especially a breakup you don’t really want. But when the guy you’re seeing, the guy you think could be “The One,” suddenly starts looking at you like he’s bothered and would rather get cavities filled instead of be with you, don’t you have to ask yourself which is harder—breaking up or staying together? I’m lucky to have a friend like Meg who forces me to call it what it is—total crap! When you do that, when you have that, even the hard stuff is a little bit easier.
Bailey twirled her hair and bit her thumbnail while she considered how to respond to the various rumors posted on Facebook. She finally decided that complete denial was the best idea. She wrote a paragraph on the rumors and then switched to tips on removing red Gatorade from expensive jeans—you know, just in case Caitlyn decided to try it on anybody else. Her thoughts turned to her absent dad and she added one last thought before she posted the update.
Times like this are when I miss having a dad the most. I wonder if he’d be like Bella’s dad, you know—all I’m-a-cop-so-I-know-how-to-use-a-gun. Or would he come up to my room with a bowl of ice cream and a movie and tell me the guy’s a total loser for not seeing the girl he sees and keep handing me tissues while I cried away my broken heart? Or maybe he’d slam his hand on the table and shout, “I never liked that boy anyway.”
Bailey thought about talking to Gramps about Simon, but the one time she’d talked to him about a boy, he turned sheet white and fled, tossing something that sounded like “Go ask your mother!” over his shoulder on the way out.
She published the new blog update and trolled her favorite social networks for a little while. Simon’s relationship status was single, but Caitlyn’s was “in a relationship.” She tried not let that bother her.
Failed miserably.
She switched over to email and saw her new blog post had already gotten a comment.
Sorry about your breakup. Why’d you end things if you didn’t want to? I’m a guy. I wouldn’t look at you the way I look at my dentist.
Aww, that was so sweet. It was from someone signing his name as WyldRyd11. She clicked his profile link, but there was no photo. Only a one-sentence bio: Gamer, athlete, lover. Serious girls, inquire within.
She thought about it and decided to reply.
Thanks for your comment, WyldRyd11. I broke up with him because I don’t think he wants to be with me, and I deserve to be with someone who does.
That sounded exactly like something Meg would say. She was right, wasn’t she? Why be with someone if that someone wants someone else? Bailey crossed her arms over her chest and wondered when the ache in her heart would go away, when the urge to keep checking for messages from him would stop.
Chapter 7
Meg
“Megan, a word with you please.”
The manager on duty did not look happy, but Meg followed him to the employee lounge, where the scent of stale popcorn and pizza hung so thick in the air that she could taste them. He scraped out a chair from under the table, where an empty soda can sat in a pool of condensation.
“Have a seat. How ya doin’?”
“I’m fine.” She knew what he was going to say but sat anyway. Best to just rip off the bandage instead of prolonging the pain.
Mr. Reese pulled an envelope from his suit jacket’s pocket. “This is your last paycheck, Megan. I’m sorry. The theater’s closing in three weeks. I can’t afford to keep you on the whole time.” Bushy eyebrows climbed over the rims of his glasses when he gave a helpless shrug.
She took the envelope and nodded. She’d known it was coming. This tiny two-screen theater just couldn’t compete with the multiplex that had opened a year before, with its eighteen screens and restaurant food brought right to your seat.
“You’re a hard worker, Megan. Never gave me a minute of trouble. So I tucked a letter of recommendation in there too. Maybe that googleplex can use you,” Mr. Reese said with a sad smile.
Meg laughed once, wondering if Mr. Reese made the lame joke on purpose, and shook her head. She wouldn’t apply there. It…well, it wouldn’t feel right.
“Thanks, Mr. Reese.” She stood, took the soda can, and tossed it in the recycle can on her way out.
“Megan?”
She turned at the door, surprised to see Mr. Reese’s eyes wet. “Grab some boxes of candy on your way out. I know how much you like those things.”
She grinned through the bright stab of pain. “Parting gifts?”
Mr. Reese shrugged. “A token of appreciation.”
“Thanks. Um, bye. Oh…here.” She took off her name tag and put it on the table.
Outside in the cold night air, she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. No anger, no fear, no regret. Just a numbness that was kind of a pleasant change of pace. She walked home, the bag holding two boxes of the Junior Mints for Bailey and two boxes of M&M’s for herself. The boxes banged her thigh with each step. It was early. She thought about heading over to Bailey’s place, but she didn’t want to see any more of her wrapped in Chase’s strong arms.
The pain stabbed her again, putting a hitch in her step, but she didn’t falter. Tomorrow, she’d visit the stores within walking distance and find another job. She would have to buy canvas soon and—
“Hey.”
Megan froze, one foot still in the air. Her lips instantly twitched up, and she tried her hardest not to smile, knowing she’d fail miserably but trying anyway.
“What are you doing here?” She put her foot down, forced herself to walk up the porch steps to the front door, where Chase sat looking like a poor, abandoned puppy.
“Uh…waiting for you.”
“Why?”
“I…I had a fight with my parents after dinner and had to get out for a while.”
“You’ve been sitting here that long?”
Chase shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Well, first, I hid in the garage for an hour and pounded nails. Then I came here. That was long enough ago to freeze my ass off.”
“Pounded nails?”
He gave her half a laugh. “Yeah, I do that to channel my ‘excess rage.’” He quoted the psychobabble with an exaggerated eye-roll.
“Does it work?”
He blinked. “Um…yeah, it kinda does.” He climbed slowly to his feet, wincing as he stretched.
Jesus, he must be frostbitten by now. She dug her keys out of her pocket. “Why didn’t you go to Bailey’s?” She would not look at him. She would not let him see how much it hurt her to see him with Bailey.
Chase frowned. “I…I didn’t think about it. I just…wanted to come here. Can I come in?”
Didn’t think about it. She whipped her head up at that. And then the rest of his question penetrated her Green Envy brain. He wanted to come in? Red alert! She swallowed hard and nodded. “I guess. For a few minutes.”
She unlocked the door, shoved it open, and flipped on a light in the living room. The clock on the wall said it was 10:00 p.m. Her mother wouldn’t be back for hours yet.
Not good.
She tossed the bag of candy on the garage sale coffee table that she’d covered in red paint and peeled off her hoodie. “Um, you can sit down.” She sat on the chair well away from the sofa.
Chase sat with a loud sigh, angling his body to face her chair. He filled damn near half the couch that way, hi
s long legs stretched in front of him. He rubbed his hands together to warm them. She should make him hot cocoa or something. If she did, he’d want to stay.
She remained in her chair.
“Um…so how was work tonight?”
“Um—” Meg looked at her hands and tried to force words out of a throat that had suddenly formed a lump. “Not so good, I guess, since it was my last night.” She gulped.
Chase shifted in a blur, leaned forward, his hands hanging through the gap between his knees. The expression in his eyes went from weary to worried in a microsecond. “They let you go? So soon? That sucks. I mean, I figured they’d keep you on until the end, you know?”
“Yeah.” She folded into herself, tried to stay positive. “I’m sure I’ll find something else.”
“Well, yeah, duh. You’re a good worker.”
Her lips twisted into a sneer. “And how do you know that?”
“I know you.”
Her amusement disappeared.
He waited a moment and then made a sound of frustration. “Megan, why do you always do that?” He flung himself back against the cushions.
“What?”
“That.” He retorted, waving a hand in the air between them. “Look uncomfortable whenever I say something nice.”
“I’m not uncomfortable.” She straightened her spine.
“Yeah, right. You don’t even want me in here. You’re so uncomfortable you had to sit across the room from me. God! It’s like you actually think I’m gonna attack you or something.”
Meg’s mouth hung open for a moment. “Um…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Jeez, how did her life get to be this soap opera?
Chase flung his head back and shut his eyes. “Megan, I came here because I needed a friend to talk to.” He lifted his head and met her confused gaze. “You’re the only person I feel comfortable talking with. I just wish you felt that way about me.” He finished with a shrug, his eyes a storm of emotion.