“Not really,” I mumble.
She’s pretty good at getting the truth out of people; with pointed questions, soon she knows exactly what’s on my mind. “Is that all?” she asks, once I’m finished talking. “If you want, I’ll take Ryan off your hands.”
I stare at her. “What does that even mean?”
“I’ll keep him from fixating and making things awkward, promise.”
Now I have visions of Lila draping herself across Ryan’s lap, but I’d pay to see his face if she does, so I nod. “Go for it.”
It’s a last-minute scramble to get both the lasagnas baked, and I’m pouring the salad into a big wooden bowl when the doorbell rings. Aunt Gabby trots down the hall, calling, “I’ll get it.”
Kimmy and Shanna arrive together, followed shortly by Theo, Tara, and Kenny. Mel’s dad drops her off next, and she’s brought homemade rolls, which Shanna says makes everyone else look bad. Everyone is kind of milling around—God, how did I get into this—when Shane knocks. Maybe it sounds dumb, but I recognize his tap: bum-bum, bum-bum-bum; it’s more musical and rhythmic than anyone else’s.
I manage to be cool as I swing the door open. But my first sight of him since he left yesterday morning steals both my breath and my good intentions. He’s wearing black skinny jeans with black sneakers, a white shirt, and a black faux-leather jacket. His tousled hair falls into his eyes as he smiles at me, then bends to kiss me. His lips brush mine, soft and warm, carrying the faint tinge of mint. Shane acts like it’s easy, but I’m tied in knots, hardly able to move, because I don’t know if my knees will hold me or I’ll end up against the wall, grinning like a reject. Ryan comes up the walk then and, judging by his expression, he saw the kiss.
“Hey,” I say to both of them.
The guys step past me into the house. Since our kitchen can’t accommodate this many people, Aunt Gabby has set up a couple of card tables, but they’re covered with red-and-white-checkered cloths. The white vases with red silk carnations make it look like we’re running an Italian bistro. As I run around, I perform breathless introductions. For a few minutes, it’s a constant rush of getting plates out, serving this and that, but pretty soon, we’re all seated, devouring the veggie lasagna and salad, along with the rolls Mel donated to the cause. True to her word, Lila manages to get Ryan next to her, and from his puzzled expression, he has no idea what’s going on. But he seems okay with the attention.
Lunch is loud, which gives me no chance to talk to Shane. Mostly, I enjoy Aunt Gabby’s pleasure in being a hostess. After everyone’s done eating, I carry the plates into the kitchen and close the galley door, so nobody can see the mess. I have no idea what to do with these people now that we’ve fed them, but Lila is good at this kind of thing. She finds a terrible SF movie in our collection, which encourages everyone to shout commentary at the screen. Soon Ryan is replacing all the dialogue with his own improv, delivered in a Russian accent. He’s supposed to sound like Borat, but given how bad he is, I’m probably the only one who knows this.
Around six, parents pull up out front. Eventually, it’s just Ryan, Lila, Shane, and me. Ry puts his hand on my arm and says in a subdued voice, “This was fun.”
“Yeah. You can have the party at your place next time.”
He gives me a hopeful look. “Would you come?”
“If it’s a bunch of us, sure.”
Just then, his mom leans on the horn and he hurries out with a general good-bye and a call of “Thanks!” for my aunt.
“No problem,” Aunt Gabby yells back.
At last, Lila decides she should head out, too, and she hugs me. Her eyes are yelling, Text me as soon as he leaves. “This was really fun. See you tomorrow.”
“So … that was nuts,” Shane says as the door closes.
“Yeah. But on the plus side, my aunt didn’t have a chance to interrogate you.”