“I just tune them out, like I do with most of your comments. It’s kind of like white noise now.”
He glances at me. “So what you’re saying is…I help you.”
“That’s exactly it.”
“I make you better.”
“Shut up, Crosbie.”
“You’ve missed me.”
Our eyes meet again, and even though he’d said the words in jest, I think we both know they’re a little bit true. Maybe a lot true.
“Kellan’s right that I have to keep my grades up, but it’s not terrible, having company sometimes.”
“Oh yeah?” He looks decidedly pleased and more than a little smug.
“Occasionally.”
“I’m your best friend, aren’t I?”
“I’ve changed my mind. The video games are a real problem.”
“Is that why you’re coming to the Halloween party?”
“Is what why? The video games?”
“To talk to someone. To meet people. To do what people do at parties.” He waggles his eyebrows and leans in a little, close enough I can smell the faint scent of shampoo on his still-damp hair.
Even though I know exactly what he’s referring to, I pretend I’m not sniffing him and ask, “What do you mean?”
“Have you ever been to a party, Nora?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t mean birthday parties when you were a kid.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh. In that case, no.”
“Yeah? What are you like at parties? Do you stand in the corner? Hide in the bathroom? Take a couple of pictures to show you were there, post them on Facebook, then run home to read?”
I stick out my tongue. “I’ll have you know I’m great at parties.” Or rather, Marcela was great at parties; I was okay after two drinks had loosened my inhibitions.
“Tell me.”
“Well, first I like to head right to the snack table.”
“Ooh.”
“I really go to town on the free chips.”
“This is a wild story, Nora.”
“Then I study all the family pictures on the wall, and ask the host questions about them.”
Crosbie grins. “I know you’re trying to sound like you’re joking, but I think this is true.”
“And then I go home. In bed by nine.”
He laughs. “What I always suspected.”
I find a couple of pairs of jeans and drape them over my forearm. “Okay, tell me your party strategy.”
“All right. Listen closely. Not a lot of girls get this type of intel. Mostly they’re too amazed by me to appreciate the process.”
“I don’t doubt it for a minute.”
“First I put on a T-shirt.”
“Whoa.”
“Then I add a pair of jeans.”
“I don’t think I can take much more.”
“Then I show up. Bam. Game over.” He brushes his hands together, mission accomplished.
“You make it sound so easy.”
He shrugs, exaggeratedly cocky. “For some of us, it is.”
“Yo! Gossip queens!”
We turn to see Kellan waving from the changing rooms in the corner. “I’m about to get dressed. Prepare yourselves for the thrill of a lifetime.”
I snag another pair of jeans before following Crosbie to the back of the store to see Kellan’s show. He grabs two cheap wooden chairs from a dining room display and arranges them side-by-side, and when we sit down it’s like we’re the only people at a strange discount theater.
“So what have you been up to these past couple of weeks?” he asks, taking one pair of jeans and holding them up to study.
“Why?” I ask, echoing his earlier joke. “Did you miss me?”
He looks at me from the corner of his eye. “Desperately.”
I laugh. “Well—”
“Hey, Crosbie.”
We turn as two girls stroll by, arms laden with costume options. While I don’t appreciate them interrupting the conversation, I do appreciate that they have at least steered clear of the slutty French maid outfit.
“Hey,” Crosbie responds, stretching one arm along the back of my chair as he grins at them. If I were an idiot I might think the gesture was a possessive one, an action meant to say, Hey, I’m busy here. But because I have two eyes, I know the gesture has more to do with allowing his coat to gape open, revealing a well-defined chest beneath his thin white T-shirt.
I sigh inwardly as the trio makes small talk. My gaze shifts around the store, landing on a display of sunglasses. I need a pair anyway, and now suddenly seems like the perfect time to check them out. When I stand, however, Crosbie circles my wrist with his calloused fingers and keeps me in my seat.
“Don’t go,” he says in a low voice. To the girls he adds, “See you at the Halloween party, ladies.”
They take the cue and say goodbye, but I don’t miss the way their eyes flit to the still-closed door of the change room before they leave.
“I need to look at the sunglasses,” I say before Crosbie can accuse me of being jealous or anything equally ridiculous and untrue. But this time it’s not his fingers that stop me from standing, it’s his words.
“They’re only talking to me to get close to Kellan.”