Bitter End

  “Shoot,” I said. “I’ve gotta get back.”

  Cole stood, holding his guitar by the neck. “Yeah,” he said.

  And there was that awkwardness between us again. On my end, the awkwardness was filled with the vibration of the guitar strings, which I still felt in the arches of my feet.

  Just as I started to make a move for the door, he reached out and touched my wrist, very lightly and very quickly, as though he were afraid I might burn him.

  “So maybe I can teach you a little this weekend?”

  At first, I was confused. What was going on this weekend? And then, with a thunk of my heartbeat, I realized what he was really saying.

  “I’m working Friday, but I’m off Saturday.”

  He smiled. “Okay. We can go to the lake or something. Bring food. I’ll teach you ‘Yesterday.’ That was the first song I learned. It’s pretty easy.”

  “Yeah, sounds great. You want to meet there?”

  “No,” he said. “I’ll swing by your house and get you.” We sat there nodding at each other, and then Georgia knocked on the window again.

  We both turned our heads this time. Georgia raised her eyebrows even higher. Cole chuckled.

  “I guess I should get back now,” I said. “I’ll see you in lab tomorrow?”

  “Yeah,” he said, bending over his open trunk and laying the guitar inside. “I’ll be caught up, I promise.”

  I pointed at him. “You better be!”

  “See ya, Emily Dickinson.”

  I forced myself to turn around and open the door.

  I watched him shut his trunk, get into the driver’s seat, and take off, then practically hopped, giggling and making little squealy noises, all the way to Georgia, who was now messing with the blinds in the back of the dining room.

  “Long break,” she said, without looking at me.

  “He asked me out,” I said, putting my hands on Georgia’s shoulder. “We’re going to the lake on Saturday.”

  “Ooh la la, the lake,” Georgia said in a droll voice. “Sounds like trouble waiting to happen.”

  “Oh, please,” I said, moving to the blinds next to her. I twirled them closed much more quickly than she had done. “I’m a good girl. I don’t know the first thing about trouble.” I batted my eyes at her dramatically.

  Georgia turned away, swishing her towel at me. “Oh, lordy, don’t let me hear things like that.”

  I reached over and hugged Georgia from the side, barely able to contain my excitement.

  If I had to sum up today in one word? Finally.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Celia was following me as I practically sprinted through the living room, tossing discarded dirty socks and old wet towels into a laundry basket. I straightened up the throw pillows on the couch and folded a blanket that had been lying crumpled in a corner for about a week, and draped it over our ugly couch.

  You could definitely tell the place was kept by a family who’d given up. Normally that wouldn’t have bothered me. It was depressing, but I was used to it. But with Cole coming over, I was suddenly embarrassed about everything that was my life.

  The drapes were heavy with dust, the couch wearing through on the outside edges of the cushions, the carpet filthy and flattened. Everywhere were dirty glasses and plates and laundry. Bottles of fingernail polish were permanently stuck to the coffee table, which was sticky on one end from God-knows-what. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw anyone vacuum. It was amazing what kind of mess you can get used to. It was amazing what kind of life you can get used to.

  “So when are you going to have time then?” Celia said for the thousandth time. “We have to plan this out. It’s not every day Shannin comes home.”

  This was definitely true. Shannin hardly ever came home to visit. It was going to be a huge surprise to Dad to see her show up, especially given that she was coming to help us throw a big surprise party for Dad’s birthday, not that Dad ever celebrated anything. A surprise this big needed months of planning, or at least Celia thought it did. Dad’s birthday wasn’t until April, and it was just barely October. I thought six months was way more time than we needed to put this together. Celia thought it was nowhere near enough time. Shannin just tried to keep Celia happy, but that was easy to do from hundreds of miles away. Shannin didn’t have to live with Celia’s nagging. “Plus,” Celia continued, “you told Shannin you’d do it, Alex.”

  “I will, okay? Just not today,” I answered. “We’ve got time.” She sighed and flopped down on the couch, knocking the blanket off. “Watch it,” I said, bending over and picking it up. I spread it over the cushion to hide the stains again.

  “What’s the big deal about this guy anyway?” Celia asked. “You’re acting like he’s royalty or something. I saw him in the library the other day. I don’t think he’s all that.”

  “Of course you don’t,” I said. “Because if you liked a guy I liked, the world might reverse its spin on its axis or something. I just like him, okay? And I want him to like me. So I don’t want this place to look so…”

  “So like our house? Maybe I should get Zack’s mom to come over here and be a mom stand-in. Then maybe you wouldn’t have to be worried about how our family isn’t good enough.”

  I glared at my sister. Celia never saw any reason to care about what had happened to our mother. She saw it the way Shannin did—Mom’s death was what it was, and Dad’s life was what it was, and none of it had anything to do with her. Celia and Shannin didn’t seem to feel anything when a kid would ask how come our dad never said anything or when another adult would ask us where our mom was. My sisters didn’t seem to care that they couldn’t answer any questions about our mom because those questions had never been answered for us.

  “It’s not like that,” I snapped. “I just want this place to look decent. You’re just jealous.” Usually Celia was the one with boys coming in and out of the house. For once, it felt good to have someone over for me. Someone better than any of the greasy boys she liked.

  The doorbell rang. Celia made a mock surprised face and pulled herself off the couch as I scrambled to take an armful of dishes to the kitchen. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m so jealous of you going out with a guy who still wears his old school’s letter jacket to his new school so everyone can see how amazing he is.” She reached to open the door as I scurried into the kitchen and dumped the dishes in the sink.

  I stood by the kitchen counter and took a few breaths, trying to clear my head. My hand drifted to the dream catcher necklace hanging beneath my shirt.

  I wasn’t embarrassed of my family; I just wanted to impress Cole. In a way, I felt the same as when I’d shown him my poem—nervous and afraid to show my real self to him. Afraid that he wouldn’t like what he saw.

  I heard the front door open and could hear Celia talking. Quickly I ran my fingers through my hair and stepped out into the living room.

  Instead of Cole, Zack was sitting on my couch, his foot up on our coffee table, the remote already in his hand. Celia was sitting next to him, blabbing on about something unimportant. Zack didn’t even look up when I came into the room. I walked over and smacked at his leg.

  “I just cleaned that,” I said. “Move your foot.”

  He wiggled his foot back and forth on the table, eyes still glued to the TV. “Moving it,” he said.

  “Ha-ha-ha,” I said. “You’re so funny.” I pushed his foot and it flopped to the floor.

  He finally glanced at me. “What? Why do you care so much about where my foot is all of a sudden?”

  “Ever since the Prince of Pine Gate is coming to pick her up,” Celia said.

  Zack settled on a channel and dropped the remote in his lap. “Who? You mean that new guy in the tutor lab?” He leaned over and pulled a bent toothpick out of his front pocket, straightened it, and popped it into his mouth.

  I nodded. “We’re going out tonight.”

  Zack shook his head. “Guy’s in my gym class. He’s kind of a tool. Thinks he’s
a badass. Got a big mouth.”

  I picked up the laundry basket and held it against my hip. “That’s rich coming from you.” I started toward the basement. “Bethany thinks he’s hot,” I yelled over my shoulder. “She’s happy for me.”

  “Bethany thinks everybody’s hot,” Zack yelled back as I tromped down the stairs. I set the basket on the floor next to the washing machine. Just as I was heading back up the stairs, the doorbell rang again.

  “I’ll get it!” I hollered, and raced up the stairs. I needn’t have rushed—Celia and Zack were into the show they were watching and weren’t making a move toward the door at all. “It’s probably Cole,” I said, catching my breath.

  “Be still, my heart,” Zack cooed in a falsetto voice. Celia giggled.

  I pulled open the door and there was Cole, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans, his shirt tight across his chest, showing off the muscles underneath. He looked so strong and confident standing there. Like he could protect me from anything.

  “Hey,” I said, trying not to sound all crushy and breathless and like I was just checking out his pecs. “Come on in.”

  Cole stepped through the door. I could swear I saw his smile fade just a bit when he looked over at the couch. God, I thought, assessing the dusty room, it’s still a disaster in here. But just as quickly his smile returned. “Hey,” he said in the general direction of the couch. “How’s it goin’?”

  Celia twiddled her fingers in Cole’s direction without even looking up, but Zack got off the couch and walked over to us.

  “Hey,” Zack said, stepping up to my side and leaning against me with his elbow on my shoulder, just like he always did. It had never bothered me before, but when he did it this time I suddenly wanted to shove him away. It felt too much like… ownership. Zack was my best friend, but sometimes he needed a reminder that I didn’t belong to him. “You’re in my weight lifting class.”

  Cole’s eyes drifted to Zack’s elbow. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  I shimmied out from under Zack’s arm. “This is Zack,” I said. “He’s my next-door neighbor. We’ve been friends since we were both in diapers,” I added, then felt myself blush after saying. God, who talks about diapers on their first date?

  “Oh, so you’re sort of like a brother then?” Cole said.

  Zack squinted at him, chomped on his toothpick for a moment, and then said, “I guess you could say something like that.” Something in his voice was sharp enough to make Celia look over at us, curious.

  I clenched my jaw and glared at Zack. He was acting like a jerk. But he didn’t see me. His eyes were locked with Cole’s, and the air in the room suddenly turned very uncomfortable.

  It was weird, really. Zack definitely had his opinions about people, but he was the kind of guy who almost always liked everyone. I could tell he definitely didn’t like Cole, and I wondered what had gone on between them in gym class.

  I tried to give Zack the benefit of the doubt—maybe he was just in a bad mood—but it pissed me off that he couldn’t take his mood out on someone else.

  “Cool,” Cole said at last, and just like that the weird feeling in the room evaporated. Then he turned to me. “You ready to go?”

  “Yeah,” I said, grabbing my keys and my cell phone. “Definitely.”

  We both turned toward the door, Cole’s hand on the small of my back, sending a shock of electricity all over my body.

  “Hey, I thought we had plans tonight,” Zack said at our backs. “It’s Saturday.” Just like that the electric feeling was gone and was replaced by annoyance. Whatever Zack’s deal was, this was completely uncool. He was making it sound like we had a date or something.

  “Nope,” I said. “Bethany already knows. I texted her this morning. She was supposed to call you. We’ll get together later.”

  “Whatever,” Zack said. “But you know how she gets when you miss one of her Vacay Days. Tonight we were gonna work out, you know, sleeping arrangements and stuff for the trip.” He got a cocky little grin when he said the words “sleeping arrangements,” and I wanted to punch him for it. I was so going to make him regret this.

  “Okay,” I said, through clenched teeth, looking back at him as I opened the door. “Later.”

  Zack shrugged and pulled the toothpick out of his mouth. “Cool. Have fun, kids.”

  Cole turned and flashed a look at Zack. “See you in the gym,” he said.

  Zack lifted his chin slightly but didn’t answer, and Cole and I plunged outside and shut the door behind us.

  “Whoa,” Cole said once we were on the front porch. “He always so protective?”

  I thought it over and, you know, yeah, ever since I could remember, Zack had been so protective of me and Bethany it sometimes bordered on irritating. And whatever that little standoff was with Cole in my living room just now went beyond irritating and straight into obnoxious.

  “Yeah,” I said, stepping off the porch. “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to him. He’ll calm down.”

  We walked toward Cole’s car. “He’s intense,” Cole said, pulling open the car door for me. “Your parents really letting you go on a trip with him?”

  All I could hear were the words “your parents,” and my face burned. I was definitely not ready to have the so-tell-me-about-your-parents discussion with Cole yet. I could never just say “my mom died” and leave it at that. Everyone always wanted to know how, and I hated answering that question. It was way too complicated. Usually I lied about what happened to her. But I didn’t want to lie to Cole. I also didn’t want to tell him that my mom was “crazy as goosehouse shit” on our first date together. I wanted this to be a fun night.

  I forced a chuckle. “Actually, he’ll be fine,” I said. “Bethany and I wouldn’t dream of going without him.”

  The idea that I wouldn’t take Zack with me on the trip seemed almost laughable. Zack had been there from day one. He knew about the photos under my bed. He saw me cry when Bethany spent that Saturday shopping in St. Louis with her mom. He witnessed the embarrassed look on my face when I had to sit with him and his mom at the fifth-grade Mother’s Day Tea. He backed me up when I told people that my mom died of cancer, and never made me act as though she was anything other than perfect and amazing. He understood how important this was to me. Plus, without Zack, we wouldn’t be the Terrible Three. And, for all his faults, he did have a way of making things fun. “It’s kind of a special trip. For all three of us.”

  “Well then,” Cole said as I sat down in the passenger seat. He placed his hands on the roof of the car and peered down at me, his body blocking the whole doorframe, his face in shadows. “I’d apologize for keeping you from going to your friend’s house tonight, but I guess I’m kind of selfish. I want you all to myself, Emily Dickinson.”

  He paused, then squatted down next to me. At last I was able to see his face, which was soft, friendly, just like it was every day in the tutor lab. I didn’t know what Zack’s problem with Cole was, but at the moment I didn’t really care. This may be our first official date, but I’d been tutoring the guy for weeks. I knew him better than Zack did. I knew how nice he was. Whatever had happened between the two of them, Zack was wrong about him.

  “I didn’t get to tell you,” Cole said, running his finger along my forearm. I got chills, but they felt warm and tingly. “You look gorgeous.”

  I smiled. “So do you.”

  He gazed at me another long minute and then slowly got up and shut my door. Sitting in his car, which smelled like cologne and leather, watching him walk around to the driver’s door, I couldn’t help but get an excited flutter in my stomach. Cole was so amazing.

  I was totally going to have to have a chat with Zack later. His personal problems with Cole were not going to screw this up for me.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Cole had asked me out for our second date before we were even finished with our first.

  “Hey,” he’d said, sitting next to me on top of the shelter picnic table, both of us staring off into the da
rk woods that separated the picnic area from the lake. We could hear the water off in the distance, every so often lapping up against the rocks on the shore, just loud enough to drown out the rumbling car engines on the highway, which wound around behind us. He was leaning back on his hands casually, his legs stretched out and crossed on the bench beneath us. I could feel his forearm against my back if I leaned backward just the slightest bit. The sensation made me feel full of nervous energy, like I could jump up and dash through the woods, dive right into the water on the other side, and swim for miles on one breath. “You hear about the new House of Horrors movie?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It looks really scary. I’m dying to see it.” I leaned back gently, felt his arm, then bent forward again, rubbing the goose bumps on my shins.

  “Cold?” he asked. I nodded, and he took off his letter jacket and draped it over my shoulders.

  I dipped my head, stealing secretive sniffs. It smelled like him—cologne, leather, something else kind of earthy and sweet—and it was warm. The goose bumps on my legs rose up even farther.

  “Did you see the second one?” I asked. “The one where that really nasty-looking dead girl comes out of the closet? Scared the crap out of me.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, that was awesome! And the guy with the machete in the barn?”

  I nodded. “Totally gross.”

  We both laughed, and once again I felt his hand snake behind me, only closer this time. I didn’t need to lean back to feel his arm against me anymore. It was just there. Now the goose bumps had spread to my arms, even though I was warm under his jacket.

  “So you wanna go next weekend?” he’d asked, and when I nodded, he’d pulled his arm around me even closer.

  “Just a warning, though. I may have my hands over my eyes the whole time,” I said.

  He nudged me with his arm. “Chicken.”

  We sat and listened to the water through the trees for a while, Cole telling me about Pine Gate and me griping about my sisters. I slipped my arms into the sleeves of his jacket, looking at the patches.