On Sunday, Sarah invites me to come over and do homework at her house. I find Mom in the kitchen with Ron and ask if I can borrow her car.
She’s nodding and reaching for her purse to get her car keys, when Ron raises his hand in a halt gesture. “Hold on, there. We were hoping we could all do something together this afternoon. Your mother was interested in a family hike.”
“I have a ton of homework,” I say. “And I already made plans with Sarah.”
“If I had a dollar for every time you say both of those things to get out of being with your family . . .” Ron shakes his head.
“Then what?”
“Excuse me?”
“If you had a dollar for every time I say those things, then what? What would happen?”
“I’d be rich,” he says irritably. “And I don’t love your tone.”
I appeal to my mother. “What’s wrong with my tone?”
“I don’t think you mean to, but sometimes you can sound a little . . .” She gropes. “Challenging.”
“Fine. I’ll try to be less ‘challenging.’ May I please have the car keys?”
She looks at Ron. He thrusts his fingers through his hair, tosses his head, and says, “It’s your call, Jeannie, of course. I thought you wanted to go hiking with the girls, but if you don’t care—”
“It’s okay,” she says, and gets her keys out of her purse and hands them to me.
“Thanks,” I say. “Text me if you need the car back at some point. Oh, and just so you know, Ivy hates hiking.”
“She can use the exercise,” Ron says.
“Tell her that. I’m sure that will completely change her mind about it.”
“Hear that?” he says to my mother. “That’s exactly the tone I’m talking about.”
“It may be too warm to hike anyway,” Mom says. “We can do something else.”
“Whatever you want,” he says, but I can still feel the heat of his angry gaze as I leave the kitchen, and I’m glad I’m escaping for the day. And sorry for Ivy that she’s not.
Sarah’s mother greets me at their front door and says, “I made cupcakes!” She sounds like a little kid who’s proud of herself.
I love Sarah’s mother. She totally homey and maternal, with her cheerful, round face, graying hair, and comfortably sturdy body, and she’s an amazing cook—?but she also co-runs a travel blog that’s won all these awards and lets her score a ton of free trips for her family.
“Holy crap,” I say when Sarah and I are alone in their family room with an entire plate of her mother’s chocolate-frosted peanut butter cupcakes. “Your mom sets the bar high. You know what the last thing my mother baked was?”
“What?”
“A cake for my fourth birthday. And it was from a mix.”
We curl up on the sofa with cupcakes, tonguing the frosting and moaning with practically orgasmic delight.
Sarah loses interest in hers once the frosting’s gone. She drops the sticky remains right on the coffee table—?she’s an only child and gets away with making a mess everywhere—?then licks her fingers clean. “Hey, didn’t you have another thing with David and his brother yesterday? How’d that go?”
“It was weird.” I finish my cupcake and drop the paper liner on top of hers. “For a lot of reasons. But mostly because of David. He’s different away from school.”
“I hope he’s nicer.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. I mean, he’s, like, a decent brother to Ethan, but he’s still pretty brutal to other people.”
“So how is he different?”
“I don’t know. More tortured, maybe? Less sure of himself?”
“Interesting.” She hugs her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them. She’s wearing a tank top and our school sweatpants, rolled down at the waist and up at the ankles, and has her thick curly hair piled in a topknot. It’s a totally sporty look, which is funny, because she’s the least athletic person I’ve ever met, won’t even go for a walk if she can avoid it. “So he’s not a smug asshole all of the time?”
“Not really. He seems a little sad, actually. He’s got a rough home life. His mother left—?I mean, like, totally left, started a different family—?and his father remarried.”
“Ugh,” she says. “Don’t make me start feeling sorry for him. Even if his life sucks, he’s still a jerk, and you shouldn’t have to spend time with him. Couldn’t you find someone else for Ivy to date?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Well, can’t your mother drive her to the dates?”
“Ivy wants me to.”
“So?”
I raise my eyebrows. “You are such an only child.”
“Are you calling me spoiled?”
“Not spoiled . . . You just don’t know what it’s like to have a sibling who needs your help.”
“We used to have a dog,” she says, and at first I think she’s making a joke but then I realize she’s serious.
Fifteen
I WALK JAMES to his practice on Monday afternoon and then head back to my locker, where someone calls my name. I look up. It’s David. I can’t tell if he was waiting for me or just happened to spot me.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”
“Hold on a sec.” He pulls out his phone and sends a text. It doesn’t take long, but still . . . it’s pretty rude, given the fact he flagged me down. “Sorry.” He pockets his phone. “I wanted to ask you about this weekend.”
“Wait,” I say, because now I’ve gotten a text and I figure I might as well be as rude as he was about it.
I look at my phone and laugh out loud—?the text is from him.
More used to texting you than talking to you
I text back. yeah me too. should we keep going like this?
Nah
We look up at the same time. He says, “Ivy invited Ethan to go to a movie next weekend.”
“I know.”
“He’s really excited about it. He’s watched a ton of trailers. You should have heard him trying to decide which movie Ivy would like best?. . .” He shakes his head. “Actually, it’s probably good you didn’t hear him. It was kind of endless. And loud.”
“Our bowling friends wouldn’t have approved.”