“Aren’t you happy to see me?” She grins. But I can’t answer because I honestly don’t know.
“I went to visit you at work yesterday and Braddy said that you were going to see this band in Arizona, and I thought, wouldn’t it be so fun if I just surprised you? I mean, it’s summer, we both know it’s not like I do that much at Attic, anyway. So I decided what the hell! I have money to burn, so why not just get a plane ticket!” She throws her arms up over her head. “So, SURPRISE!!!!”
She lowers her arms and then claps her hands together. It’s like she’s trying to rewrite a story that we were both part of and thinks somehow I won’t notice that she changed it. Does she not remember the weirdness of the last few days? Her calling me over and over? Me not picking up?
But before I have a chance to decide whether I want to express any of this, I feel a warm hand on my arm.
I turn. Sean.
“Hey,” he says. His voice is soft and low, the way he says “hey” makes it sound like it’s a secret he’s been saving just for me. The Sean from last night is back.
“Is this him, Ellie?” Amanda puts one hand on her hip. I can tell she’s trying to sound perky, but her voice has an edge.
Sean looks at me. Our eyes meet. I feel that jolt of connection. “Who’s your friend?” he asks.
I take a deep breath.
“Sean, this is Amanda.” I look at him. Surprise flashes across his face and his jaw tenses.
“Amanda, this is Sean.” I look at her. She’s looking at him. I try and imagine what she sees, dark hair that’s flopping in his face, black T-shirt, big intense eyes. Does he look the same to her as he does to me? His eyes, warm and full of a deep understanding, his lips, serious and playful at the same time. Kissable. An image pops into my head, his lips approaching mine, his hot breath on my mouth, his tongue about to slide in.
He’s watching me. I blush.
“Hey, Sean,” Amanda says. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hi, Amanda,” he says. But he’s still staring at me.
And then we all just stand there. I want to tell him about everything that happened backstage, but I can’t do that in front of Amanda. Not anymore.
Amanda glances down on the floor, in front of her is her big cherry-print LeSportsac. She’s wearing a pair of high-heeled strappy leather sandals. Her toenails are painted bright pink. It’s as though she dressed up special for this occasion, but she doesn’t fit in here.
“Amanda came to surprise me,” I say to Sean. “Brad told her I was here seeing a band.”
Sean doesn’t say anything. Just stands there looking uncomfortable.
“So where are you guys staying?” Amanda says.
Sean reaches out and puts his hand on my lower back. “We don’t know yet.” I can feel the heat of his hand soaking through my shirt. “We were going to find a place after this.”
Amanda glances down at Sean’s arm. A look of deep discomfort f lashes across her face, as though she is suddenly realizing what she’s gotten herself into. For a second I feel sorry for her.
“This’ll be fun,” Amanda says, but it sounds so forced, not one of us believes her.
Twenty-six
In a parallel universe, Ellie2 is having the best night of her life. She’s in a hotel room in the middle of downtown Phoenix, with her best friend and the guy she likes. They’re laughing. They’re making jokes. She leaves the room to go to the bathroom and overhears them talking about how great she is. How much they love her. They want to plan a surprise party for her! She gets back. They order room service! They jump on the bed! They take hilarious pictures of the three of them with a digital camera and post them on the new web-site they’ve created, devoted to just how much fun they’re having!
But in the regular universe, the one I unfortunately happen to inhabit, things are going rather differently. I am in a room at the Golden Oasis Suites in Phoenix with my best friend and the guy I like, but instead of laughter and proclamations of how much fun we’re having! the room is filled with so much awkward energy I think I’m going to puke. If one could, y’know, puke from a thing like that.
We checked in fifteen minutes ago, and right now Amanda is standing by the door of our enormous, gorgeous room, with her hand on her hip and a towel over her shoulder saying, “Come on, Ellie. Let’s just go!” Sean is sitting on one of the queen beds, looking uncomfortable. And I am standing in between the two of them, with no idea what to do. Amanda lives for pools, no matter where we are, if there’s a pool there, she wants to go in it. Ordinarily she can be a little bit prissy—about what bed she’ll sleep in and what shower she’ll use, but she’d swim in a dirty bathtub filled with soup if someone put a sign that said Pool in front of it. And there just so happens to be one here at the hotel, on the roof, and it’s open all night.