The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things (22 page)

“Holy shit.”

“I hugged him and said it was no big deal. But I could tell something was bothering him, like, a lot. He basically kicked me out. And the next day, he was claiming we hooked up.”

Now I understand why Dylan hates Lila. She witnessed a weak moment, so he had to ruin her at school, so nobody would believe her if she told anyone the truth. In other words, he shot first. I’m willing to bet something happened that summer, end of innocence, or some shit like that.
Too bad.
I might have liked the sweet Dylan that Lila dated two years ago, but he’s gone and I’m left to square off against the asshole who’s taken his place.

“And he was mean about it,” I guess.

She nods without looking at me. “I never told anyone what really happened—like they’d
believe
me. In the official record, he gets to be a player who popped my cherry while I’m the slut who gave it up, then went batshit and broke up with him because I didn’t want everyone to know.”

“You loved him.”

“Yeah. Shows what poor judgment I have. Now you owe me something good. Spill.”

So I tell her about Shane and the Coffee Shop, how he seemed like he was singing just to me. Next I mention that he spent the night here, and by this point, she’s bouncing. “Christ, Sage. I never would’ve guessed. You look so innocent. But you’re sneaky!”

“Who’s sneaky?” my aunt asks, coming in the front door.

“Uh,” I say.

But Lila covers smooth as silk. “She’s got the smartest plan to get people to bring in their old newspapers and magazines. Extra credit! Provided we can get the teacher to agree.”

“That
is
sneaky.” But from Aunt Gabby’s tone, she approves, so I’m clear. “Are you staying for dinner, Lila?”

“If you don’t mind. We’ll feed Sage tomorrow night.”

“Sounds good. Just let me change and then I’ll dish up the soup.”

“I can do it,” I offer, dropping my math notebook.

“Thanks.” Aunt Gabby heads down the hall to her bedroom.

I jump up and hurry to the kitchen and get three bowls. Lila follows, looking bemused. “She doesn’t seem like the type to beat you if you aren’t super efficient, super helpful, all the time.”

There are so many things I could say, but I don’t offer anything honest. I hate myself for it, too. “Isn’t this exactly how you pictured the Post-it Princess acting at home?”

“Yeah. But now I’m starting to wonder if that’s the real you.”

Lucky for me, my aunt comes in before Lila can say more or I’m forced to acknowledge or deny her insight. Dinner passes quietly, and half an hour later, Lila’s mom comes to pick her up. I think she just wants to get a look at Aunt Gabby and me, so we come to the front door to wave as she backs out of the drive.

“I’m glad you’re having people over and making friends other than Ryan. Lila seems nice.”

“She is,” I agree.

“What’s going on with Ryan, by the way? He didn’t seem to be brokenhearted when he was here on Sunday.”

I shrug. “You’re asking the wrong person. I don’t know if he’s moved on, or if he’s covering his feels better.”

“Talk to him,” Aunt Gabby advises.

“I’ll text him now.”

After washing the dinner dishes, I carry my backpack to my room and close the door. My aunt respects my privacy; she doesn’t rummage in my stuff, but a closed door is comforting. It says,
This is my space, and you can’t come in unless I let you.
I also know how fragile that barrier can be.

I get out my phone and send,
im ready to talk.

A few minutes later, he replies.
We ok?

Yep. I forgive you.

I don’t know if that’s enough to patch the rips in our friendship but it feels like a beginning. That night, I fall asleep feeling pretty good, and there are no bad dreams.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Dinner with Lila’s family goes well, though I’ve never seen so many chicken-fried foods in my life. Mrs. Tremaine seems to think that if she fries it enough, it’s not meat anymore. But the mashed potatoes are delicious and I rearrange the beef on my plate enough to make it look like I’m enjoying it. If Lila told her I’m a vegetarian, she doesn’t care, and that’s a Midwestern attitude. People seem to think if they offer meat often enough, you’ll be seduced by your salivary glands or something.

“So, Sage,” Mr. Tremaine asks. “What does your future look like? It’s never too soon to start planning.” He aims a pointed look at Lila, who sighs.

“There’s a college in Maine that looks right for me.”

“What do you plan to study?” Mrs. Tremaine asks.

“Adventure-based education.”

I can see they have no idea what I’m talking about, so I try to explain, and now Mr. Tremaine is frowning. “That sounds like you want to be a camp counselor.”

“
Dad
,” Lila protests.

“It’s okay.” For the rest of the meal, I clarify the difference—and about how we can change the world if people are taught young about conservation, green practices, and natural resources when they’re young.

Mr. Tremaine gives a grudging nod. “That’s true. If there had been a program like that at school when we were growing up, it wouldn’t have taken us so long to start recycling.”

“Exactly.”

When we ask to be excused and I follow Lila to her room, she’s looking at me like I’m magical. “I’ve never gotten my dad to see my point of view on
anything
.”

“Did you really try, or did you stomp off when he failed to get it the first time?”

“Shut up,” she mutters.

We work on homework—and gossip—until eight, then I cover myself in reflective tape. She shakes her head at me. “There’s no way I’d be seen like that, dude. I’d just get in a car even if it violated all my principles.”

I ignore that. “Night. Thanks for having me over.”

“You already said nice things to my parents. It’s cool.”

She stands in the doorway, watching until I turn the corner. It’s not a long way from her house, but I’m nervous, mostly because I’m keeping an eye out for Dylan’s truck. When I ride onto our gravel drive, my heart is racing. I hate that I’ve let him make me feel this way; I remember what it’s like to live with fear constantly gnawing at you, and I refuse to go back. After stowing my bike in the shed, I slide in the back door. Thoughtfully, my aunt has left a snack on a plate for me.

I carry it into the living room, where she’s watching a movie on DVD. “Have fun?”

“Yeah, it was fine. Lila’s mom doesn’t cook as well as you, though.”

Aunt Gabby grins. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“How are things going with Joe?”

“Really well,” she answers, both surprised and cautious. “He’s a great guy. Funny. Quirky.”

“Quirky how?”

“Well … he’s a
huge Star Trek
fan. Not the original,
The Next Generation.
Apparently he has a Star Fleet uniform that he wears to sci-fi conventions.”

“Really?” I have no idea why, but I’m startled to learn this. Joe is a fairly big guy, good build, and he looks somewhat athletic. Plus, he drives a silver Ford. In other words, he’s a pretty standard manly man, and I’m delighted to find out he’s a secret geek.

“Yep. I told him I’ll go to Indy with him this summer for GenCon.”

Whoa. If she’s willing to make plans ten months out, things must be going extremely well. “I haven’t talked to him that much, but I like him.”

“He holds up to closer scrutiny,” she says, then she laughs, because she seems to realize how suggestive that sounds.

We talk a little more about Joe, then she asks, “How’re you doing with Shane?”

“Good. We’ve had a few hiccups, but nothing serious.”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” There’s no way to be sure what she means, whether she’s talking about my past or the fact that I haven’t dated much.

I lean toward the latter because Aunt Gabby tends not to rock the boat, where my dark side is concerned. She figures if the therapist said I had talked it all out, then it’s counterproductive to dredge it up again. I’m so grateful for that. It doesn’t help to have it on my mind constantly. I’m coping. Time is supposed to make things easier, so I just need to breathe and wait.

“He’s wonderful,” I say softly.

That word doesn’t begin to encompass him. I eat the cheese, crackers, and fruit while she tells me about the weekend Joe has planned. “He wants to take me to Chicago, get tickets for the theater, but I’m not sure—”

“If you should leave me for that long?” I can practically read her mind.

“Yeah,” she admits.

“I can probably stay one night with Lila if that would make you feel better. And you’ll be back on Sunday, right?” I can’t imagine that she’s considering a long holiday. My aunt hasn’t taken a vacation as long as I’ve lived with her.

“That sounds good.” From her expression, she’s relieved. She’s apparently okay with letting me stay one night alone, but two makes her feel neglectful, I guess.

“He’s buttering you up so you’ll be willing to go to sci-fi conventions, huh?”

Aunt Gabby smirks. “That’s a possibility.”

“Heh. I’ll talk to Lila. When are you going?”

“In a month or so, the weekend before Thanksgiving.”

Which means it’s almost Halloween. The warm weather won’t last too much longer; it’s weird, some years, the trick-or-treaters need to bundle up over their costumes, and other times, it’s so warm, it almost feels like summer. I wonder how it’ll be this time. Not that I go out—I generally stay home and give out candy. I tease Aunt Gabby about giving away that sugary junk, but she just grins and says she doesn’t want her house egged or her trees TP’d.

The rest of the week, school is quiet. If I was skittish, I’d say too much so. Because I notice Dylan watching me, but he doesn’t make a move. I go about my business: planning the recycling drive, working, seeing Shane, doing homework. And I leave cheerful Post-its on people’s lockers, like usual. I’m walking with a little more swagger these days instead of rushing around with my head down. Maybe it’s my new attitude that results in so many people talking to me between class. Whatever the reason, I like the change.

Friday morning, Shane’s escorting me to my first class. “You wanna do something tonight?”

Duh.

“Yeah. Our choices are limited, though.”

“I’d kinda like to hang out at your place if that’s cool.”

“Sure. If you want, come over after school.” That will save him a ten-mile round trip.

“I’ll meet you at our locker, then.” He drops me off at my classroom with a kiss on the forehead. A teacher catches it, but since it isn’t mouth-to-mouth contact, she contents herself with a frown.

Lunch is weird. Ryan pulls up a chair, joining us at the new integrated table. Things are a little crowded, but people are talking a lot about the recycling drive, so it’s not awkward. Gwen has talked her dad into sponsoring the operation, so he’s permitting people to drop off stuff at his hardware store, and she’s even gotten him to rent some proper containers.

“We’ll need people to ferry stuff over from the school,” Tara is saying.

Kenny immediately volunteers his mom’s minivan to earn a smile from Tara. Then he starts texting, which makes me think that his mom knows nothing about this. I stifle a smirk.

“So what’re you doing tonight?” Lila asks, as the others discuss Green World stuff.

“Hanging out with Shane.”

“Oh.”

I swear she looks disappointed. Now I’m torn. I don’t want to be one of those girls who gets a boyfriend and stops hanging out with her friends. Hoping Shane will understand, I say, “Do you want to come over? We’re probably going to watch a movie.”

She arches a brow at me. “Sounds awesome. I love preventing people from making out.”

Before I can think better of the impulse, I nudge Ryan with an elbow. “Wanna do movie night? Shane and Lila are coming.”

“Usual time?”

I nod. Only then do I look at Shane, as our date has doubled. “Hope this is okay,” I whisper.

“Too late to be asking now.” But he doesn’t
look
mad.

I realize I’ve done it again, made plans without asking him. I’m just not used to being half of anything. When I spent all my time with Ryan, we were a closed circle that didn’t let anyone else in.

“I’ll make it up to you.” I whisper the promise. Both his brows go up, then my face heats like a radiator. “I mean. Uhm. We can do something, just us, before you go to work on Saturday? I can make a picnic if the weather’s nice, and we can eat in the park.”

“Okay. I’ll bring my work clothes and change at the store.”

Soon, lunch is over, and I get through the day. After classes end, Shane meets me at our locker, as promised. It occurs to me that we have a few hours before the others arrive. This can be a mini-date. Since we’re not in a hurry, I push my bike and Shane walks alongside me.

I’m about to jokingly suggest he needs some way to keep up with me when I spot a yard sale. There’s an older woman puttering among the tables, and I can’t resist. It’s not that I love rummaging through other people’s junk, but sometimes I can find cool stuff that doesn’t cost a ton. Aunt Gabby appreciates it when I do my own clothes shopping.

“Do you mind?” I ask.

“Go for it.”

While I’m poking through piles of T-shirts, Shane wanders toward the garage. In fact, this is more of an everything-must-go sale, since it’s lined up on the lawn, up the driveway, and beyond. I find a couple of vintage T-shirts, priced cheap, along with various tank tops. This stuff looks like it’s from the eighties, but it’ll work now. Off the shoulder tops are coming back.

He comes out looking purposeful, heading for the old woman. “How much for the bike?”

“That belonged to my grandson,” she tells him. “He’s thirty-one now. I can’t even remember what we paid for it, but I’ll let you have it for twenty-five dollars.”

Shane’s about to accept her offer. I can see him reaching for his wallet, but I know he only had eighty-seven from the Coffee Shop on Sunday, he’s bought some groceries, and I don’t know if he’s gotten paid from the P&K yet. I can’t resist haggling.