Life in the No-Dating Zone (2 page)

Unless I could find a way to get over Rose’s new relationship, it was going to be a really long school year.

Two

Gray

It would take about twenty steps to get there. Twenty normal steps—no lunges or anything—and I’d be standing beside Lindsey Taylor’s group in the middle of the lawn. It was the perfect opportunity. No sign of her boyfriend, Adam Castro, and only a couple of guys to compete with. And Mike and Parker were complete tools. There shouldn’t be anything stopping me.

Except the fact that I hadn’t had a real conversation with Lindsey since seventh grade. That, and an up-close look at her in that pink bikini might make me turn purple. I cursed under my breath. Why did I have to suck at this? Lindsey and Claire were some of the nicest girls in school. It’s not like they’d tell me to get lost. I could just sit down and join the conversation.

I probably wouldn’t even have to say much. There was a lot of noise over there with the football players throwing themselves off the diving board and the girls cheering. I could become part of Lindsey’s group. And then someday, when Castro did something stupid and she dumped him, I’d be there to console her.
Right
. Me and about ten other guys.

Tool #1 Parker jumped up from where he’d been sitting beside Lindsey, and after a short conversation, jogged toward the patio where I was holding up the wall of the house. Now there was only one guy. I should go now. Right now.

The sliding glass door to the patio opened and dumped out Amy Acton and that girl whose name I could never remember. They edged over to the tables of snacks. Parker got there and, after rifling through an ice chest, pulled out a bottle of tea. He then started messing with the other coolers. Lift. Slam. Lift. Slam. What the heck was he looking for?

I grabbed a handful of potato chips so I wouldn’t look like I was hovering, then went back to leaning against the house. I sensed the snacking girls staring, but ignored them. Instead, I concentrated on Lindsey’s reddish-brown hair, which shone in the sunlight like a beacon. I really should go over there.

In fact, Lindsey’s friend Rose, and some guy I’d never seen before, had just joined the group. I could’ve gotten there at the same time and not looked so obvious.

“Hey, Grayson,” Amy called, and then both girls giggled.

I almost launched into an explanation about how I’d shortened my name to Gray, but didn’t really want to get into it. Besides, the country music blared loud enough that I’d have to get closer if I really wanted to talk to them. I didn’t. So I settled for a brief smile. For some weird reason that made them giggle more.

Amy elbowed the taller one, who opened her mouth, but then laughed again. “Did you try the guacamole?” Amy asked. “It’s really good.”

“No.” What was the tall one’s name? Nita? Nyssa? Something unusual. She’d transferred to our school during sophomore year and I didn’t know her well.

Please don’t come over to talk.

Thankfully, the door slid open and Berger stuck his head out. “Hey, we’re almost up to play pool. You coming in?”

“In a minute.”

Berger sauntered over. “Couldn’t hear you.”

“In a minute.”

“If we don’t hurry, someone’s gonna take our spot.”

Over on the lawn, Parker handed Lindsey a drink. If I would only grow a pair, I could be the one doing that. “It’ll be fine.”

“C’mon, man, what’s—oh, her again.”

The resigned tone in Berger’s voice made me feel like an idiot. “You know,” he said, “this has been going on for a stupidly long time.”

“I know.”

“You either need to forget about her or make your move.”

“You’re probably right.” What else could I say? I couldn’t admit I made my move all the time in my fantasies. But I knew in the real world, Lindsey would shoot me down.

Berger grabbed a huge chocolate chip cookie. “I’m gonna make sure we’re still in line. You coming?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be long.”

“I won’t.” I needed to quit standing around like this—the whole thing was lame.

I went to one of the ice chests—away from the giggling girls—to force myself to stop staring at Lindsey. I fished out a root beer and popped the top, but movement out of the corner of my eye made me look back at the yard. Claire Gardner was heading toward the patio, her ponytail of dark brown hair swinging as she walked.

Berger would have to wait. This could get interesting.

I took up my spot against the wall. When Claire reached the patio, the giggling girls got in her face. Well, sort of. They moved in close and both started talking at once. But with the loud music, I couldn’t hear any of it. Claire smiled, nodded, said something, then pulled a water bottle from an ice chest.

The girls kept talking, with Nita/Nyssa doing most of it. Claire tapped the water bottle over and over against her hip while she listened. I couldn’t be sure, but she seemed antsy. She leaned closer to the girls and spoke, making little karate chop gestures with one hand. Whatever it was, she really wanted them to get the point. Geez. Why couldn’t
I
talk to people like that? Or at least, to one person in particular.

The music cut out and the girls looked around. Way over by the volleyball net, Lainey Garza was trying to make an announcement.
Good luck with that.

“I’ve got to go,” Claire said, her voice sounding so close I almost banged my head against the wall. I straightened, then focused on my root beer. Better if they didn’t realize I was eavesdropping.

“Thanks so much,” Nita/Nyssa said.

“Yeah,” Amy said, “you give the best advice.”

“No problem,” Claire said. “See ya.” She turned away from their goodbyes, puffed out her cheeks like she was glad that was over with, and marched toward the gate.

I held in a laugh. That would teach her to talk to giggling girls. But wait. Had Amy said something about advice? Claire gave them advice? Maybe she could do the same for me. Maybe she could even tell me the best way to approach Lindsey. It was worth a shot.

I set my drink on the table and, before following Claire’s path, texted Berger:

Gotta go

By the time I left the yard, she’d made it halfway down the block. I jogged after her, ignoring the voice inside telling me this was a really bad idea.

“Hey, Claire! Wait up.”

She jerked around, the uncapped water bottle near her chin, and started coughing. “Oh.”
Cough
. “Grayson.”
Cough, cough
. “Hi.”

“Sorry. Did I make you do that?”

She pressed a hand against her chest and cleared her throat. “It’s okay. You just surprised me.”

“Sorry. And it’s Gray.”

“What?”

“I go by Gray now. You know, our junior year, do something new.” I tried to smile, but my lips felt all rubbery.

“Right.” She sipped her water.

Could this get any more awkward?
“I, um, need to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

I wished I could see her eyes better. She wore those glasses that darken in the sun where you could kind of see the person’s eyes, but not well. Maybe it was better not to guess what she was thinking. “You want to keep going? I could walk with you. I don’t want to make you late.”

“I’m not in a hurry, just going home. But since it’s freaking hot, let’s walk.”

“Sure. Okay.”

We headed down the sidewalk, not speaking. Sounds of the party—laughter, splashes, music—echoed in the distance, and I felt hyper-aware of every noise I made. Every thump of my sneakers, every exhale, bounced around in my ears. I wanted to turn around and walk back to the Garzas’ house.
Just say you forgot something, you have to go, and walk away.

“So?” Claire asked.

My mind went blank. “So yeah. How’s everything going?”

“That’s what you wanted to ask me?”

Score one for Claire being direct. “No. I, um … ”
Just say it!
“I overheard Amy say you give good advice. And I need some. Advice, that is.”

“About what?”

“A girl.” Did my voice have to actually squeak? I couldn’t get a break.

“Oh.”

She sounded surprised. What, did she think I didn’t like girls?
Don’t go there, Gray.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Probably Berger texting back. I’d check it later. “I mean, you’re a girl, so I figured … ” She said nothing. No making this easy. “Maybe you could help.”

Claire stopped and let out a quiet laugh. “I guess.” She rubbed her temple. “Is this gonna be a long conversation? Because I’ve got a headache and—”

“No, no. We don’t need to talk now. I could, like—how about tomorrow?”

She tapped the bottle of water against her leg for a few seconds, then stopped. “Could you come over at eleven? I have to babysit in the afternoon.”

“Sure. Where do you live?”

She pointed at a two-story, sand-colored brick house diagonally across the street. “Right there.”

“Cool. Okay, see you then.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

Claire crossed the street and headed up the front walk of her house. Was I really going to tell her how I felt about Lindsey? I kind of had to if I wanted her help. Maybe I could leave out the details, not tell her who it was I liked. But that was dumb. How could I pass up a chance to get advice from someone who knew Lindsey?

I couldn’t. This might be my only shot. But it still felt like a really, really bad idea.

Three

Claire

The next morning I felt a lot better. I’d had my afternoon of feeling sorry for myself and it was over. Time to move on. Yeah, I’d felt jealous of Rose’s new relationship, but I was over it. Sort of. I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t want her to be happy. I supposed I was mature enough to handle any changes that might come from Rose having a boyfriend.

The doorbell rang. I started to get up, but remembered Mom was down there with Jack. I went back to the novel I was reading.

But then her voice came ringing up the stairs. “Claire, you have company!”

Uh-oh.
I jumped up. Grayson. Or Gray. Was it already eleven o’clock? I’d completely lost track of time. “Coming,” I yelled.

I yanked on a pair of shorts, brushed ginger cookie crumbs off my T-shirt, then went to the mirror to make sure there were none in my teeth. I tried to smooth down my hair, but I had serious bedhead, so I pulled it into a ponytail. I didn’t even have makeup on. But whatever. He was here for advice, not to take me out. That wasn’t even an option, anyway.

I jogged downstairs, figuring I shouldn’t leave him in my mother’s clutches any longer than necessary. She could get someone’s life history in about three minutes. I peeked around the kitchen doorway. Gray sat at the kitchen table next to Baby Jack in his highchair. My mom was putting the iced tea pitcher back in the fridge.

Gray wore basketball shorts, a Notre Dame T-shirt, and flip-flops. His dark blond sun-streaked hair poked out in different places. I’d never seen it like that. In fact, it hit me he was really tan. Normal, of course, for the summer, but I hadn’t realized he was such an outdoorsy guy.

“Yes,” Gray said, “my dad still works at Tyson, Clark & Stone. He made partner last year, so he’s really busy.”

“That must make him happy,” Mom said.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Hey,” I said, walking into the room, which for some strange reason smelled like bleach.

Gray gave me a quick smile. “Hey.”

My mom wiggled her eyebrows and grinned behind Gray’s back.

I ignored her. “I see you’ve met Baby Jack.” My nephew had Gray’s forefinger in his chubby fist and was pulling it toward his mouth.

“Yeah, we’re getting along great.”

Mom dropped a few Cheerios onto the highchair tray. “Be careful, he bites.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Gray said.

He pulled his hand away from Jack’s face, still letting the baby hang on to it, then shook it. Jack chortled. There’s no other word for it. The sound came straight from his belly.

“You want something to drink?” I asked.

He held up a glass. “Your mom already got me tea.”

“Okay.”
Wow, Claire. How could you miss something right in front of you?
My eye for detail was slipping. I could only chalk it up to the strangeness of having a teenage boy in our kitchen. I couldn’t remember that happening since Mimi had been in high school. And I hadn’t been a teenager then. But I was now. I took a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “We’ll be out in the sunroom.”

“All right,” Mom said, flashing me a silly grin.

Geez. He might’ve seen her. “This way,” I said, heading down the back hall.

After a few seconds, Gray’s snapping flip-flop steps halted. “Crazy. That tower was as big as you were.”

Oh, right. My LEGO tower photo. At least he’d already passed the framed baby pictures of me and my sister. But if I didn’t get him out of the hall, he might drift over to look at those too. I motioned to keep him walking. “Yeah, my parents had to buy an extra set of bricks so I could finish it.”

He strolled closer and the bleachy smell hit me again. “How old were you?” he asked.

“Five.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. I’ve always loved building stuff.” I led him into the sunroom, which at this time of day was filled with diffused light. It made the taupe couch and chairs with their turquoise throw pillows look cheerful, but relaxing at the same time. Besides my bedroom, it was my favorite room in the house.

“A sunroom, huh?” Gray asked. “There are a lot of trees blocking the light.”

“Just on the left. I like the extra shade. My dad wanted to call it a solarium, but Mom and I outvoted him.” We sat at opposite ends of the couch. “Why do you smell like bleach?”

“Oh.” He sniffed his forearm. “Sorry, it’s chlorine. I just picked up my little brothers from a swim team party and got knocked into the pool by a six-year-old.”

I couldn’t keep from laughing. “You’re kidding.”

“No. And I didn’t have time to shower. Thankfully I’d just handed my phone to my brother Travis, so it was saved.”