Secret Girlfriend Part 13

"So Coach is going to run numbers with you and stuff Monday night?"

"Yup. I mean, I'm really glad he gave us tonight and the rest of the weekend to just chill out. You guys have been working so hard and all, but I think I'll try to pull everything together before the game Monday."

"What do you think you're going to tell him?"

I sighed, deep and loud. "Oh, you know. I'll tell him who I think the best guy for the job is."

I leaned away, gave him my biggest smile and watched his face relax.

"Good girl." He brushed his mouth over mine again.

I had never known I had it in me. "It" being the ability to play the game. I was going to play this one out a little and see where it went. Let him wonder.

"So, what happened with Cheryl?" If he hadn't had his arms around me, I wouldn't have felt him stiffen.

"You know she was never the girl for me."

Um, yeah. Right. Who was?

"Well, I better go in." I pulled from his embrace and stepped away. "Have a great weekend."

"Wait. Wait a minute." He reached for me again. "I thought we could hang out tonight. You know, just the two of us."

"Sorry. I can't. I have plans."

His eyes narrowed and he clenched his fist at his side before shaking it out. "With Parker?"

"Chris, I thought we weren't doing that. I thought you could do what you had to and I'd do my thing. I mean, you never asked me to hang out before. You didn't care what I did."

In a little spot tucked behind my heart, a part of me wanted Chris to be the guy I always thought he was and say the exact right thing. To convince me I was wrong and to make it all right.

"It is Parker, isn't it? You don't even care that he has a girlfriend he never told you about, do you?"

I couldn't help myself. I goaded him. "I knew about Katie just like I knew about Cheryl. And I don't think you really cared anything about me. I was good for your ego and good for your rush to make team captain. But you aren't good for me. And you know what? I'm done with that. Go find some other ego-stroker."

I strode toward the front door, proud of my big exit when his hand caught me about the elbow.

"Amy," he said low in my ear. "I'm sorry."

My name, coupled with the low, unsteady way he said it stopped me.

"You're right. I shouldn't have used Cheryl like that and I shouldn't have been so not-with-it with you. Let's hang out. Just the two of us."

So much of me wanted to say yes-except for my new inner It-girl. She was kind of reveling in staying strong during our first fight.

"Sorry, Chris. I do have plans tonight. Maybe we can get together later this weekend."

I went up on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek before going inside.

When I threw the lock, my mind drifted not to the boy on the other side of the door, but the one on the other side of town. The one out with his girlfriend. My heart did a weird little drop, like it was breaking a little at the thought.

It had finally gotten back in its place behind my ribcage when my text pinged.

Sorry.

And there it went again... breaking into even smaller pieces.

Chapter 15.

The next morning, before the sun filled my room with its own brand of cheerfulness, Dad's car drove away leaving the cottage as deserted as usual. I didn't know what to do, how to keep those promises I made my mom six years ago. But, since she'd left us, Dad had become all work all the time.

Twenty minutes later, the rumble of an engine returned and I thought maybe he'd reconsidered spending my last weekend before school started with me. I formulated father-daughter plans for us, hoping he'd recognize me when he saw me, until the doorbell rang.

My heart slowed to a dull thump-thump, just like it did every time I let myself think my dad was reaching out... and then didn't.

Crawling out of bed, I straightened my PJ tank top straps and made my way downstairs. I pulled my hair back in a sloppy bun as I went and hoped whatever misguided sales guy awaited me would be easily deterred by my less-than-attractive a.m. appearance.

Every one of my senses jolted at finding Luke standing there, iced tea in hand. I did what any reasonable seventeen-year-old girl would do. I slammed the door in his face.

I propped my back against it. A little voice that sounded suspiciously like Rachel's sprinted through my head, pounding on every brain-to-heart connector I had. The voice shouted the world's lamest pep talk. Chris is a user. Luke is perfect. Go with the good guy.

To which I responded to my imaginary pep-coach: Be rational. Chris is just confused like every other teen male in existence and Luke is not perfect. He's stubborn and pushy and just a tad bit judgmental.

And yeah, perfect.

Whoa. Okay, maybe Rational Me wasn't so rational either.

Who knew boys could turn your brain off and cause sleepless nights without even trying?

A knock sounded through the heavy wood and I doubted he was going to go away.

See? Stubborn.

"Hi," I said, pulling my hair out of its bun and trying to look cute as he eyed my h.e.l.lo Kitty pajama bottoms.

"Can I come in?" He held out one of the teas and waited, hand braced against the edge of the open door.

"Actually, I was just going to go for a run and then you know... lots to do. Busy, busy."

His eyebrows disappeared under the flop of dark hair before he tried a different tactic. "Okay. Can we talk for a second?"

"Sure." I leaned against the frame. "Go ahead."

He scowled down at his tea and then drew in a deep breath.

"It isn't what you think with Katie. She drove six hours to get here and I really don't get why she did it and I tried to be honest with her and you were taking off with Chris and I couldn't think straight because I was worried about what c.r.a.p he was pulling on you and-I mean really-what type of girl drives six hours to see a guy who broke up with her?"

He sucked in a deep breath. I felt my shoulders drop as I shook my head.

"The type that doesn't realize you broke up with her, Luke." I felt stuck. I was saying no to both guys as I was trying to figure out if I should say yes to either. I may have entered the land of Deny, Deny, Deny. "You know, Chris might not be perfect, but he's working on it and-"

"You're comparing me to him?" The shocked disgust in his voice said it all.

I stood there in my doorway, knowing that one guy might not be good for me, but that this guy-the one with the girlfriend at his parents' house right now, the one who could wrap my heart in a tight knot-could be very, very bad.

"I'm just saying-" I started before he could cut me off.

"What? What are you just saying, Amy?"

"I'm saying that if you're my friend, you'll not judge me for the guy I like."

It wasn't a lie. I may not have shared the recent earth-halting s.h.i.+ft in which guy that might be, so sue me. Self-preservation by omission. I needed a little time to get clear on that point for myself first.

Luke's hand dropped away from the door and he stepped back. "I see."

I'm glad he did, because that made one of us. Part of me-a small amoeba-sized piece-still held onto the dream of Chris I'd had for years. In my head I heard his voice as he apologized the night before and knew I had to see if the summer-him was coming back. Which guy he really was.

Oh, and yeah. Katie.

One guy had broken up with his girlfriend and one had just gotten his back. Which guy was safer?

No. Really. Which one was safer? The back of my mind ground to a halt as I tried to figure out the answer to my own Dear Abby moment.

"Okay, then. I have to head back. Katie's parents are coming to get her tomorrow. So, you know, manners and all. No keeping a guest waiting." He pivoted toward his truck and shouted over his shoulder, "See you at the scrimmage Monday."

Chapter 16.

I stood in the front hall, listening to the quiet. Listening to another guy leave. Was it too much to want people to stay? I thought of my heart jumping that moment before I'd opened the door-the moment I'd hoped it was my dad.

But, of course, it wasn't him. I'd been losing my dad since the day we lost my mom.

They say there is nothing quieter than death. That day, after the funeral, our house had sunk into silence.

I'd eased myself down the stairs, looking for my dad. He'd been so quiet since Mom died. Like part of him wanted to go with her. I knew just how he felt, but I needed him-all of him-with me.

I peeked around the corner into the living room. My dad sat in the overstuffed chair by the fire. Mom's chair. She'd taught me to read in that chair. Knit my scarves and mittens. Held me and told me stories.

"Dad?"

He didn't look up, just stared into the fire burning really low in the grate.

"Dad?"

"Not now."

I stepped back, surprised by the bite in his voice. I waited for him to call me in, to pull me close. To remember we only had each other now.

I took one step, maybe two little ones, into the room. "Dad?"

He looked like he didn't want to answer me. Like if he ignored me I might not be there.

"Can I come in and sit with you?"

"d.a.m.n it, Amy. Can't I get a moment to myself?"

I could feel my chin quivering, my hands-my whole body-shaking. He couldn't mean that.

"I just thought-"

"Can we do this later?"

Maybe he was tired too. Tired of the people who kept telling us how sorry they were. Maybe he just needed a night with the quiet.

But I couldn't take the quiet any more. Even if I could've gotten a hug before bed, that would have been enough. I took one more step into the living room.

"Did you hear me? Get out."

I did. I ran. I ran to my room and shut the door and stayed there waiting for him to come in and call me Amy-girl and pull me into his arms and tell me he was sorry and tell me everything would be okay one day because we still had each other.

I'd waited a long time. And then I'd fallen asleep.

Chapter 17.

"You've reached the middle of nowhere. Leave a message after the beep."

BEEP.

"Where are you? I'm dying here." I paced across the room, pa.s.sing the front door I'd thrown shut behind Luke. "My life is falling apart. I have teen angst. Like the angsty kind that I don't know what to do with, not the real bad life kind that is easily compartmentalized and stored away for therapy later. And I have these boys and-Wait, someone's knocking on my door."