Part 12 (1/2)
”Look, Nic,” he pressed on, ignoring his sister, ”do yourself a favor and stay away from him, okay? He's trouble.”
As if I didn't know that! As if I hadn't wanted to hate him since June 7 at approximately three o'clock. I'd been trying. But didn't Jared realize that sometimes the heart made decisions that the head didn't go with?
”Oh, okay, now that you've put it that way, I'll be sure to duck whenever I see him.” I couldn't keep the snotty tone out of my voice.
He exhaled. ”Whatever. I'm hanging up. See you around. Or not.”
I couldn't help snickering at how dramatic he was being. Of course I would see him around. He was my best friend's brother.
I heard a click; then Alison apologized.
”It's okay,” I said, surprised to realize it actually was. Deep down, I kinda liked it that he cared. Sort of like a brother. Still ... it was different from on the beach last summer.
”But what I'm not getting here,” Alison went on, ”is what he meant about not leaving the two of you alone. Was Jared at your house today, too?”
After a moment of embarra.s.sed silence, my voice quavered. ”Well, yeah. He helped me hand out flyers since you were stuck cleaning your room. I-I thought you knew that,” I said, telling a little white lie. I mean, I had thought she'd known. Until Jared told me differently.
”No,” she said simply.
”I hope you don't mind,” I managed.
A call-waiting beep bleeped over her response, but maybe that was for the best? Since nothing like that was ever going to happen again. I told her I'd better take the other call in case it was my mom, and we said bye. Cheerfully enough, I thought.
”h.e.l.lo?” I said again immediately.
”Hey, Nicki, how's my girl?”
Great. Now I'd really won the lottery. ”Hi, Dad.” I knew I should be relieved that he was no longer ”missing,” but honestly, I hadn't been worried. If I lived 24/7 with Caffeine, I'd go AWOL now and then, too.
”Sorry about Cathleen's call earlier,” he said, in a fast, dismissive way that told me not to probe. ”I took Autumn to the beach, and we went out of cell phone range.”
”Yeah, I figured it was something like that.”
”So how did it go at the bank?”
I sat up. ”Fine. They took the check, no problem.”
”Did you tell your mother it's paid?”
”Yeah, last night.”
”Did she believe the money was yours?”
”Yeah,” I answered, then, wanting to steer the subject away before I had to admit that she'd showered me with appreciation and guilt, I asked how the kid was doing. Even used her name.
He hesitated.
The funny thing was, the longer he stayed quiet, the more my stomach tightened. ”Is,” I managed, ”she okay? Not sick or anything?”
”No. No, she's fine.”
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.
”I was just surprised you'd ask about her. I hope it doesn't have anything to do with what you talked about the other day, thinking I loved her more than you.”
I bit down on my lip. I didn't have anything to say to that.
”Nicolette,” he continued when I didn't respond, ”you're almost a grown woman now, so headstrong and independent. While you still need a father, it's in a different way than a two-year-old does.”
Okay, obviously he'd been thinking this through, been rehearsing. No way he'd let me cut in or change the subject. All I could do was sit tight and hope this heart-to-heart ended soon.
”So if I seem to be giving her more attention, it's because she still needs constant supervision for her safety. Not because she's any more interesting or important than you.”
I understood that my dad was trying to reach out, but it didn't make me feel any more included in his life.
The front door opened and Mom blew in, a stuffed briefcase clutched to her chest. I looked for a hint of a smile in her face, hoping the client had liked one of the properties. But all I saw was exhaustion.
”Oh, here's Mom,” I said, knowing how to put an end to this conversation-fast. ”Want to talk to her?”
Mom's eyes widened. Over the past few years, she and Dad had found an arrangement that suited them perfectly. They'd truly been able to start over. By going back to being total strangers.
”No, no, that's fine,” Dad said, his voice taking on an urgent tone. ”Give her my best. And next time, it's your turn to call, okay, Nicki?”
I grimaced. ”Sure, Dad.”
Mom put her briefcase down as I hung up. ”There's a stack of papers on the lawn. Know anything about that?”
Yikes. Thank G.o.d there was no wind.
”Oh, yeah,” I answered. ”A homework thing. I'll go pick them up.”
She slumped into a chair as I started toward the door. ”By the way, before you woke up, you got a call from some guy.”
The hair rose on the back of my neck. I was sure it had been Rascal scoping out my plans for the day. I just had to hope he'd had the sense not to speak his name to my mother. ”Oh, yeah?” I said, trying to be cool. ”Who?”
”Someone named Mitch.”
I didn't know whether to be relieved or irritated. Why was he suddenly buddying up to me? Why not call one of the smart kids? ”Oh,” I said to Mom. ”He's in my Spanish cla.s.s.”
”He wanted you to call him back.”
Well, I wanted a lot of things, too. Mitch could take a number and wait.
My locker was the unlikely center of the universe that next morning. Jared walked by it-twice-without meeting my eye. Mitch stopped to tell me how bored he'd been all weekend, how he couldn't seem to get any ”action” going. Whatever that was supposed to mean. And not a word about Spanish.
And then Kylie showed up. She couldn't even wait until geometry for our big chat.