“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.
“He went to get me drinks,” she said. No longer able to stand bent over, she fell on the bathroom floor. I could have reached out and grabbed her arm to keep her from going down, but I didn’t.
“Yeah, I bet he did,” I said. “Stay away from that guy, Gretchen. I mean it.”
“You are soooo not fun right now,” Gretchen pouted.
True. I wasn’t being any fun. The real purpose for coming to this lame party tonight was to do a bit of sleuthing. Well, and to keep Gretchen from being violated. I succeeded in the second, but not in the first. I didn’t know what I expected to overhear or see, if anything at all. But I knew in my gut that Parker and Cal were up to something. If they were, in fact, part of a salacious sex club, I was sure they were looking for partners. Unsuspecting partners. I made it my mission to find out, but I realized I’d have to investigate another night. My top priority was keeping an eye on my friends. I would never sacrifice their safety to discover more clues about Parker and Cal.
I walked with my tired, dehydrated friends out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Stephanie couldn’t remember how she got to the party, so I decided to take her home. On our way out, I spotted Cal and Parker talking. They were huddled in a corner of the foyer whispering. I caught Cal’s eye, and he waved at me. I waved back, watching Parker scowl. He tried getting Cal’s attention again, but Cal was more interested in watching me walk away.
Even when I turned my back on him, I knew he was still watching me. It was the same feeling I had at registration, the hairs standing on the back of my neck. I didn’t like it then, and I hadn’t met him yet. It was worse now because I had met him. I knew what he wanted from me, and I knew eventually I’d have to give it to him.
Seven
The first time I had an actual conversation with Ryan Foster was right after our little spying game. I was vacuuming the living room floor Saturday morning and had pulled back the curtains that usually hung over the large window overlooking the street because I needed sunshine. I realized that part of my dad’s problem was that he had gone too many years without sunshine.
He lived in a little box of a house closed up with thick fabric that forbade the outside world to get a peek. I didn’t care who wanted a peek so long as I could feel the sunlight on my face when I sat on the couch reading. I lived in my old house a total of nineteen hours before I opened everything, tearing away the dust and heavy seclusion. I could tell it made my dad nervous, but he gave me my sunshine because he’d give me whatever I wanted.
I carefully maneuvered the vacuum underneath the coffee table when I saw him in my peripheral vision. I looked out the window and watched him ride his skateboard down the sidewalk. He didn’t look anything like a skater except for his hair. He wasn’t dressed in skater clothes. He wore regular straight-legged jeans with a form-fitting blue T-shirt. He had nice arms, but he didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who lifted weights. Nobody was just blessed with toned muscles like that, though. He had to do something to work them. I imagined he chopped wood. I liked that image. Even better without a shirt.
He paused in front of my house and looked towards the front door. It startled me, and I knew his eyes would move to the open window next, so I averted mine and continued vacuuming, trying hard to look oblivious and pretty. But how does someone look pretty while vacuuming?
I tried cocking my head to the side and smiling, but felt so stupid doing it that I stopped. I put my free hand on my hip, but that made me feel like one of those models on The Price is Right. I gave up altogether and turned off the vacuum. When I braved a glance out my window, he was gone, and the disappointment manifested itself as tightness in my chest. I didn’t like the way it felt. I thought I shouldn’t feel that way at all about a person I didn’t know. I grunted and put the vacuum away.
When I returned to the living room, I spotted him again. He was rolling along in the opposite direction. Again he paused in front of my house, and again I averted my eyes. I looked over at the family portrait still hanging above the couch. I scowled, then thought twice about it. Scowls were ugly. I tried for a smile instead. A sweet smile. But it seemed fake. I lost the smile and tried to look pensive. What the hell?
I looked back out the window and just like that, he had disappeared. I walked over to the window and peered out in the direction I thought he’d gone. He was only a few houses down, one foot poised on his skateboard as though he were about to take off in the direction of my house. I watched him decide, silently begging him to come my way.
What I should have done was close my curtains. I knew it, but he glided past my house a third time, and I decided to check the mail.