Authors: Anne Eliot
“I do too. But—I miss you. Can we please have lunch today? Get Mr. Foley to transfer you back to LightSticks and the DigiToyTech stuff. I know we can work this out.” He gently grabs my arm and turns me to face him.
“No,” I say, pulling away from his grip to start walking again. He follows. “Gray, no hard feelings about me skating on the tradeshow project. I want to be in Shipping. I'm here to
learn
. As for lunch, I can't. Thursday is the department's monthly meeting. All staff members are required to attend. They give us free food.”
“Whatever. You're probably making that up.”
“Not. They're going to preview a new box-taping machine. The thing is awesome. Tapes over 400 multi-sized boxes per hour. Mr. Foley's asked me to run the training slideshow. I've been memorizing the bullet points.”
“Tomorrow, then. Noon. I know Foley gave you the afternoon off. Meet me in our office, if you can remember where that is. Back hall, first closet on the right. Your desk is the one squished up next to mine. Face to face.” His voice sounds half angry, half accusing. “We'll talk. I'll bring sandwiches. Say
yes
.”
“I said, no! Why can't you get the message through your head? I can't be around you.”
“Why? Why are you treating me like this?! God, do you piss me off,” he shouts.
I turn my expression to stone but it's almost impossible to hold. My brain is firing off different versions of what I'll say next to make him understand me permanently; but he jogs in front of me forcing me to stop again.
He grabs onto my hands.
I glance at his sneakers—not his face. Too dangerous. I'm panicking because my mind has been wiped clean by the simple feel of his palms against mine. I love that feeling.
“You're being unfair. You owe me at least the respect to hear what I have to say,” he says. His voice is gentle…and low and rumbling. Zero anger.
Damn him and that voice and his hands.
I want to scream “foul” or “off sides” or any sports call that could make him stop weaving his way so easily into my soul. I try to regroup, but…his hands are so gentle on mine. I move my gaze to his fingers, and let my mask drop away.
“You're blisters are almost healed.”
“Yeah.” His thumbs traverse the back of my palms. I should let go, but I simply don't want to. I glance at his face. Any remaining defenses I'd stockpiled against him fold under the absolute anguish and confusion I see in his eyes. I've caused this. I've hurt him, and he's right. I do owe him at least some sort of explanation for why I pushed him so far over a cliff. I shiver. Could I simply tell him the truth about myself? If he knows all, he'll understand my permanent limitations.
“Tomorrow.” I nod. “Twelve noon. I'll really listen. But you have to
promise
to listen to me right back. Even if you don't like what you hear, you need to hear me back. Deal?”
“Okay. I will. I will.” He smiles and the dimple flashes. The relief in his voice makes his eyes seem over-bright as though he's feverish, or holding back tears.
But that's impossible because I'm the one doing that. I feel like a floating puff of mist. One so fragile and light, that if this boy blinks, I could easily disappear—be lost forever. But I know it's too late. I've been lost since the day he smashed his backpack into my car.
Stupid love. Stupid color green.
Why does Gray have the power to make me feel like this when I'm intelligent enough to
know
it's all a mirage? I wonder if this feeling will crush me when the summer's over. When I'm not allowed to hold his hands anymore.
When he walks past me in the hallways with his
real
girlfriend next year.
Will we smile and laugh about our secrets? Or will I die because I have to breathe his same air? I work my hands out of his, and together we walk inside. It's impossible to recover my
back off
mask, so I don't even try. “Um. Thanks. For…you know…finding me. I'm glad I'll get the chance to explain better. What happened at your house—all I said that night. I'm sure I wasn't making any sense.”
Gray lets me pass in front of him through the lobby. “Jess, I'm the one who needs to explain. Everything. Why I've been acting like a complete weirdo around you. I tried to give you space. Do what you wanted, but I can't. I know we can be friends. And—well, I think, I hope, you might want that—”
I bump him shoulder to shoulder to shut him up.
His whispered words have wreaked havoc along the back of my neck. I'm covered in goose-bumps. Worse, uncontrollably blushing like mad.
The GeekStuff.com receptionist has overheard Gray's indecipherable cluster of words. She's giving us this knowing smirk. Can't blame her, as we'd been holding hands for a really long time out there. I flush even more. “I uh…gotta go.”
Gray, looking more flustered and awkward than I've ever seen him shakes his head. “Right. I'm an idiot. Tomorrow.”
His voice follows me down the hallway. “When I text you tonight will you answer? Please?”
I don't look back. If I see his face I'll change my mind. I have to be strong. He'll understand where I'm coming from, eventually. Maybe we can be friends after this is all over like he says. But not until he knows the truth about me.
“No.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jess
“Jess!” Dad's voice trails up the stairs. “I need some kitchen help.”
I head out of my room and meet Kika in the hallway hauling a full laundry basket along with her. “Any idea why Dad sounds extra industrious? What did you see down there? Is it bad?” I ask.
“He's making that marinade sauce for the meat from scratch this time. The chili meat? For the burgers on Sunday?” Kika arches her brow and blocks my progress by turning the laundry basket to the side.
I pretend to ignore her attempt to block me and try to squeeze past her, keeping my voice light. “Oh. I should have known! He wants me to chop the onions.” I force a smile but my heart has turned to weighted stones. Dad always makes his special super tenderized meat before a big BBQ. He makes it when he wants to impress someone. That someone is supposed to be my boyfriend
, one Corey Nash
. To be delivered in person in three days time.
Just because things have been off between me and Gray, doesn't mean I was stupid enough to cancel the barbecue plan. Yet.
“Jess. I'm waiting,” Dad calls up again.
“Be there in a minute,” I match the sing-song voice Dad's used and meet the challenge in my sister's eyes. “What's up?”
Kika won't budge out of my way. “What's up with
you
?” Her tone is sarcastic and pissed off.
“Nothing.” I push the basket forcefully out of my way and head for the stairs.
“Oh no you don't.” Kika drops the basket with a thump. She catches me on the upper landing. “He's coming, right? To the BBQ?”
“Corey? Of course he is.” I blink slowly and shoot her my best ‘what's-wrong-with-you’ glare and head down the stairs. She follows. “No. Not
him
. I'm talking about your
boyfriend.
Is
he
coming? And don't try to pretend. Anyone could see that guy,
Corey Nash
, was into that other girl and not into you.”
We stop in the front entrance. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“I mean
the other guy
. The black haired, model-looking dude? Did you not see him, because I sure did. He's tall. Got green eyes, and he's major hot and very in to YOU. The one you were skating with, and you
know
it!” she shouts.
I check the hallways for signs of our parents. “Who do you think you are, butting into my life? You don't know anything,” I whisper.
She doesn't whisper back. “I'm your sister. And I know a whole lot. Seriously, I'm about to blow up. Start talking.”
“Tell me what you
think
you know,” I divert.
“And give you the chance to twist your story again?” Kika crosses her arms and shoots me her little death glare—the one that wouldn't even wilt a daisy. “You tell me the
truth
first, starting with his real name, and then I
might
tell you what I'm meant to share with Mom and Dad.”
I admire her answer. The girl's quick, and she's also scaring the hell out of me. I motion Kika to follow me into the deep, bench-lined alcove that makes up the area inside our front door. “This is really none of your business. What have you already told them?”
“Nothing. But if the right guy doesn't show on Sunday afternoon, then you're going down. I'm done covering for you, especially when you haven't even told me one single thing.”
“You're seriously threatening me?”
“Yes. I'm completely freaked. You don't even know how horrible it sounds when you scream in the middle of the night, because you're asleep. But I've been listening to you lose it all week. You're so lucky Dad's deaf and Mom was at a conference. Or they'd already be involved. I should have told Mom the second she hit the driveway. But I didn't. Because I thought you'd talk to me—about stuff—about what's going on. Jess. WHAT'S GOING ON?”
“Come on. It's not as bad as you're making this out to be. That other guy—you don't understand. It's not what it seems…or…it's just confusing, that's all. As for the long nights. I'm sorry if you couldn't sleep. You know I can't control that.”
Kika's face crumbles into complete worry and anguish and she starts to cry. “I don't care about sleep. Do you know I've been trying to stay awake in case you need me? But you don't. You never ask for help. You never come to my room anymore.” She gulps. “You haven't talked to me—you haven't even
looked
at me—since I saw you at the sports complex. I miss you. I'm scared for you.”
My heart sinks. We hardly ever fight. And, she's right. I've never shut her out of my life before. “I know—” I start, but she won't let me finish.
“What I don't get is why you've played this really weird
boyfriend
prank on our whole family. I can only think you're, like—doing
drugs
. Or you're in some sort of trouble. Are you pregnant?”
I gasp. “This is not a prank. And this is definitely not
me
on drugs. I can't believe you'd think I was pregnant! Not even close. My entire future is at stake right now. It all rests on how things go for me this summer. Sue me if I've been a bit distant, but I've been busy working on my future. And it's not going very well. That's all. It's not personal, or against you, or Mom or Dad. Nothing like that.”
She shakes her head and her eyes are icy cold. “Give me one reason not to tell on you right now. Say something
real
. Honest. If you even know how what that means anymore.”
How could I let things get this out of control? I hate myself right now. Mostly at myself for breaking my sister's heart like this.
I sigh, knowing I can't lie to her anymore. “You want real? Fine. Let's start with the fact that I'm in love. Head over heels, hopeless love. And with the absolute—most gorgeous guy I've ever known. He's perfect actually. You saw him at the rink.”
“I knew it. I knew I was right about him and you.”
“But you aren't right. Truth is, I'm paying that guy to be my pretend boyfriend for the whole summer. And he's done an amazing job making everyone believe he and are the real deal. And I've fallen for him, like an idiot.”
Kika's chin drops. “No way. What's his name?”
“Gray Porter. His best friend is Corey Nash, the other dude you met that night. We just traded their names to keep you and Mom confused. Corey and Michelle—they don't even know what we've done. No one does. Except you. I can't let Mom and Dad find out none of this is real.”
“What about the internship? Please tell me you've been driving to a real job every day.”
I grimace. “The internship's legit. That's why I'm so tired. Why the nightmares are so strong. No time for car naps. I was thinking about quitting a week early. I just want to finish out this week. Make it to Sunday. But if you tell on me today, you'll ruin everything I've worked so hard to set up.”
She throws her arms wide. “How can I ruin everything, if your nightmares are back and your boyfriend isn't even real. Sounds like your pretty much a total disaster, right here and right now.”
I sit on one of the benches and let out a long sigh. “Yeah. I know.” I lean back and meet her gaze. She sits on the bench across from me as I continue, “If Mom and Dad find out what I've done—if this information leaks at school—I'll die from the humiliation. I've pulled back from everyone because I'm trying to salvage some of the situation. My self respect, and my plans for college at the very least. But now, I don't even know if I have what it takes to make to college. Maybe Mom's right. Maybe I'll never be able to move out of this house.”
“Oh. My. God. This is so messed up.” Kika pulls in a ragged breath.
“I stayed away from you because I didn't want to admit that you were right about the dreams getting worse. I knew you'd worry too much. You always do. I'm going to ask for help. Soon. I'm asking you to wait three more days. You have to believe me, by Sunday's BBQ the entire thing with Corey Nash and Gray Porter will be solved. Over.”