Boy Crazy (9 page)

C
assie felt like doing cartwheels the next morning. She was still giddy from the night before and couldn’t seem to wipe the goofy smile from her face. She was supposed to meet Greta and Keagan at their favorite brunch spot, Quality on Third Street, at 9:45 a.m. on the dot. Any later and the weekend lines would be too long—and all three of them, as L.A. natives, felt that they shouldn’t have to wait in brunch lines.

But it took Cassie forever to get going. She kept staring off into space, remembering the way Trey’s hands had felt against her face, or the heat of his mouth against hers. She was practically loony over this guy, she thought, laughing at herself when she realized she had been standing in the steamy bathroom with only her
towel and wet hair, gazing dreamily into the distance, for way too long.

Somehow, Cassie managed to get her act together long enough to throw a bandana over her hair and slip on one of her favorite Anthropologie dresses. She stepped into her vintage Frye boots that she’d scored at a secondhand shop up on Melrose a few years back. Then she raced out the door, jumped in the car, and guiltily made it to Quality by ten.

“You’re lucky we got a table already,” Greta told her, making a face as Cassie slid into the seat they’d saved for her at one of the outside tables. “Check out the line!”

Cassie peered over her shoulder and sure enough, the brunch line had already tripled in size since she’d left her car with the valet. Los Angelenos took their brunches very seriously, especially on the weekends. Some people on line looked impatient or hungover. Others read the paper or chatted as the summer morning grew hotter.

“I think it had a lot more to do with the fact that we’ve known the people who work here for, like, a million years,” Keagan interjected, around a yawn. “They usually don’t let you hold a table until everyone’s here.”

“I know, I know,” Cassie said apologetically. “I suck.”

“Maybe you do and maybe you don’t,” Greta teased her. “But until I have coffee and a couple of biscuits, I don’t think I’m going to care.”

Cassie tried to keep her cool as the other girls chatted about what they’d done the previous night—though she kept breaking into that goofy smile, no matter how hard she tried to stop it. The smile she gave the guy who brought them their coffee and took their orders was so bright and beaming he looked a little taken back by it.
Oops,
Cassie thought, and stifled a giggle.

“I hate closing down the restaurant at night,” Keagan was saying. “There’s always some table that won’t leave, and we have to stand around and pretend we think it’s awesome that they’re still sitting there talking about their kids or whatever, when really we want to just chase them out. And then it takes forever to clean up. Although it is kind of fun to hang out with everyone afterward. The other waiters are pretty cool.”

“You totally made out with that guy again,” Greta pronounced, eyeing Keagan over her mug of coffee, to which she added four packets of sweetener and half the little container of cream. Cassie sipped her latte, content to watch Greta go after Keagan. After all, she had too much Trey on the brain to contribute anything herself.

“I totally did,” Keagan confessed, and shrugged, though she didn’t look too guilty. “I couldn’t help myself. He has these
shoulders
, you know?” She traced them in the air in front of her. “They’re like the perfect boy shoulders, sculpted and touchable. I don’t know.”

“Making out with him again does not up your
numbers, K,” Greta said, shaking her head as if disappointed in Keagan. “You could have been out kissing a new guy.”

“I know, and I’m fully committed to the project, I promise,” Keagan said, laughing. She wrinkled up her nose. “I just couldn’t help myself. He’s a
really
good kisser!”

Greta shifted in her seat, cupping her hands around her coffee. “I wish I could have been worrying about who to kiss last night,” she said. “But I was stuck having family night.”

“You always complain about it,” Keagan pointed out, “but your family actually has fun on family night. Unlike in my house, where we just have dinner together when my mom reads something in one of her magazines that says we should eat as a family.”

“Did you go to Hollywood Forever?” Cassie asked Greta, trying to pretend she was involved in the conversation, rather than a million miles away, still on the Catalina ferry in the dark with Trey.

“Maybe it’s kind of fun,” Greta admitted. “But it’s also weird. How many families do you know who pack up a picnic and go hang out in a graveyard?”

“It’s not like you were on a grave-robbing expedition,” Cassie said, rolling her eyes. “I love the Hollywood Forever movie nights.” Every summer, the Hollywood Forever cemetery in Hollywood hosted
movie nights. They showed classic movies on the side of one of the buildings, and people came in droves to picnic and watch movies under the stars. Cassie thought of it as just one more quirky reason to love her hometown.

“I guess,” Greta said noncommittally. “It would have been way more fun if there were cute boys involved.”

“Like there were no cute boys there?” Keagan demanded. “I don’t believe it!”

“There were a few,” Greta admitted, grinning. “But it’s not like I could do anything about it with my parents right there. Not to mention my little brother and sister.”

“A wasted opportunity, Greta,” Keagan teased her. “I’m ashamed of you.”

“What is going on with you, Cassie?” Greta asked then, startling Cassie, whose attention had drifted once again. Cassie had the uncomfortable suspicion that there might have been a big gap in the conversation. Sure enough, both of her friends were staring at her.

“Um, nothing’s going on,” she said, stalling for time. Did she want to tell them about Trey?

“You lie,” Keagan said breezily. “You’ve been acting super weird and distracted since you got here.”

Cassie bit her lower lip, but the giddiness was too much for her. She still felt like jumping up and doing cartwheels down Third Street, and how could she not share that with her best friends?

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll tell you. But you have to listen to the whole story before you judge me.”

“You know we love stories!” Keagan cried, looking delighted.

“And we won’t judge you, silly,” Greta chimed in. She raised her eyebrows. “Unless you deserve it.”

So Cassie told them. She skipped over the earlier Trey sightings but told them how he’d showed up on Catalina and taken her to dinner. She told them all about how sweet he’d been, and what a great time they’d had. How easy things had been with him. She left out the stuff about his parents, because that was private. And she told them
most
of the juicy details.

“I know what you told me, Greta,” Cassie said when she was finished with the story, “but he was totally sincere last night. I’m sure of it.”

But when she looked over at Greta, her friend’s expression had changed from its usual one of mischieivousness to something very serious. Keagan looked from Cassie to Greta and then back again, stricken.

“Oh, Cassie,” Greta said with a heavy sigh. “I tried to warn you!”

“I know you did,” Cassie said. “But I really think—”

“Let me tell
you
a little story,” Greta interrupted, leaning forward, frowning. “Trey Carter is not a good guy, Cassie. I’m sorry, but he’s not.”

“I just can’t believe that,” Cassie said helplessly. She
felt terrible. She didn’t want Greta to be mad or disappointed with her, but she’d been the one with Trey last night, and she hadn’t seen even the faintest glimmer of player behavior. Quite the opposite, in fact. What was Greta’s problem with him?

“Trey Carter sees girls as challenges,” Greta said, her eyes cool. “Like little projects for him to practice on. Once he feels like he has a girl, he’s out. He’ll drop her.” She blew out an angry breath. “Last year he promised to take this girl to the junior prom. But then she hooked up with him at a party the week before. She thought they were getting together. But Trey Carter, winner that he is, completely ditched her and took someone else instead.”

Cassie could only stare at Greta as Keagan made a distressed sound from beside her.

“That is so low,” Keagan murmured. “Greta told me this story last year when it happened. I’m sorry, Cassie, but it’s awful. Still.”

“And it wasn’t like it was a mistake or misunderstanding or anything,” Greta continued, her eyes on Cassie’s face. “Everybody knew. He humiliated this girl, and when she asked him why he said, and I quote, ‘Just because.’” She paused to let that sink in. “Just because. That’s who he is.”

Cassie rubbed her palms over her face, trying to make sense of what she was hearing. But it was almost too much to take in.

“You can ask anyone from my school,” Greta said then, sitting back, still with that hard light in her eyes. “It’s just a small part of the Trey Carter legend. I wish I could say it was a onetime thing, but it’s not. That’s how he treats girls. He gets off on it.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Cassie managed to get out. Her head was spinning. The Trey she thought she knew could never have done something like that. But how well did she know him? Greta had gone to school with him for years. She had to know him better than Cassie did. Cassie felt like she might burst into tears. Or scream—anything to get the awful feeling out of her.

“Cassie,” Greta said, her tone almost apologetic, “I wish I didn’t have to tell you any of this. I wish he was the guy he pretended to be. But he’s not. And what kind of friend would I be if I sat by and let him hurt you the way he’s hurt so many other girls?”

“No,” Cassie said, pushing the words out past the fog in her throat, “you did the right thing. I’m glad I know.” Because it was better to know, wasn’t it?

“I don’t want to see it happen to you,” Greta said.

Cassie was saved from answering when their food arrived—fragrant biscuits that were usually Cassie’s favorite thing in the world, and fluffy omelets all around, all of it looking absolutely delicious.

But Cassie couldn’t taste a thing.

S
omehow, Cassie wasn’t surprised to see Trey the next morning on her ferry.

She’d ignored at least three phone calls and a million texts. She hadn’t been able to deal. When she’d gotten home from brunch, she’d just shut herself in her room, listened to Band of Horses, and brooded. She might even have cried a little bit, which made her furious—because she shouldn’t cry over someone as gross and calculating as Trey Carter apparently was. And because she had vowed not to get her heart involved, but look what had happened!

Cassie walked toward Trey, grimly noticing how casually hot he was. Like he was made to be looked at on the water, with the sun and sea all around him, so
that his dark hair ruffled a little bit in the breeze. It was unfair that anyone was that easy on the eyes, and at the same time so evil.

“There’s playing hard to get,” Trey said when Cassie drew close, his tone light, but the look in his eyes anything but, “and then there’s disappearing from the face of the earth. What happened to you?”

“I’m not playing hard to get,” Cassie snapped. “I’m not
playing
at all.”

“Okay.” He studied her for a moment. “Then I guess I should assume your phone died?”

Cassie could give him the silent treatment, which maybe wasn’t the most mature thing in the world, but so what? Why should she bother talking to him? He would probably lie. Except there was that part of her that wanted to hear his explanation for the story Greta had told. Because she so very much wanted to believe that he had an explanation—that there was a reason.

“Do you consider yourself a good guy?” she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest as the ferry began to move. She didn’t sit down next to him. “Like, a good person?”

“Uh, sure,” Trey said. He frowned in confusion. “What’s going on?”

“So if I ask you something, will you answer me?” Cassie pressed him. “And do you promise to tell me the truth?”

“Of course,” Trey said. He still sounded bewildered. “Anything you want to know.” The early morning breeze whipped off the water while tourists in brightly colored windbreakers huddled inside the boat’s cabin for warmth. But Cassie could only see Trey.

“Your junior prom,” Cassie shot at him. “My best friend Greta told me a story about a girl you were supposed to take, who you then turned around and dumped the week before so you could go with someone else.”

Secretly, Cassie hoped Trey would react with outrage—call it all lies, demand to know why Greta would something so nasty about him. But he sighed and looked away. Her stomach sank through the boat and into the water below. Part of her hadn’t believed Greta, not fully, until that moment.

“So it’s true?” Cassie demanded, scandalized. “You did that?”

“Okay,” he said, looking back at her, his expression serious, “listen. It was a long time ago—”

“Who cares when it was?” Cassie felt heat and dampness behind her eyes and couldn’t tell if it was from sadness or anger. But she refused to cry in front of him. “You’re either the kind of guy who would do that to someone or you’re not.”

“I’m not!” Trey protested. He sighed. “But I was.” Cassie snorted in disgust, and he hurried on. “I was an ass,” he told her. “It was my junior year and I was
completely full of myself. I was a starter on the lacrosse team and I thought I was hot. But then I got hurt in practice last fall, and I had to sit out the season. It sucked, but it also made me think a lot about how I’d been acting.” He searched her face with his dark eyes, shifting his stance as the boat moved beneath him. “I changed, Cassie. I promise. I would never do something like that now. I don’t know how I did it then.”

“Why should I believe that?” Cassie whispered. “Isn’t that what you
would
say?”

“I really like you,” he told her, holding her gaze. “I care about you.”

“I have no reason to think that’s true,” Cassie told him. Though she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to.

“I know,” he said. “But I couldn’t fake how things are between us. Whatever else you know about me, you have to know that.”

Cassie felt herself soften. Was she falling into his trap?

“I have to think,” she said, feeling overwhelmed.

She walked away from him and went to sit in the cabin near the snack bar. Trey didn’t follow her.

It was late that evening when the ferry docked back on the mainland, and Cassie was pleasantly tired out from a
long day at work. She’d led two separate tours, and then had taken an unexpected hike when one of the kids on her afternoon tour let his bike fall over the side of one of the hills. Cassie had had to climb down and drag it out, which had made her feel strong and in charge—which felt good after all the emotional turmoil of the morning.

But her heart did a little somersault in her chest when she looked up and saw Trey waiting for her in the parking lot, leaning against her car.

“Why are you here?” she called across the lot, though there was no sting in her voice. “Nothing’s changed.”

“That’s what I was going to say.” He straightened when she came closer, and pulled her into his arms. She didn’t resist. The truth was, she didn’t want to. “So you heard a story about me. It was true a long time ago, but it’s not true now. And it has nothing to do with us.”

“Trey…” But Cassie couldn’t think of an argument. He felt so good against her body. It was like her skin and bones had made their own decision about him already and were fighting her to get closer to him.

“Come on, Cassie,” he whispered. “I can’t change the things I did. But I swear to you, I’ll never do them to you.”

Cassie sighed, and then somehow she moved, and she was kissing him. He tasted so good, like sugar and sunshine, and she didn’t know how she could do without it. Without
him.

But then she remembered her friends and groaned.

“I can’t,” she said. But she kissed him again. And then once more.

“Okay,” Trey murmured, his hands holding her hips as he kissed her. “Except I kind of think you already are.”

Cassie groaned again. “Seriously, I can’t be with you,” she said. “Or anyone.”

Trey laughed against her mouth, and kissed her forehead. “Are you a nun all of a sudden?”

“My friends and I made a pact,” Cassie said. “We decided to have…” She paused. He had a scandalous past of his own, but somehow, she didn’t think he would like the sound of a ten-boy summer. Call it female intuition. “A single-girl summer,” she said, deciding to be discreet about it. “They’ll be really hurt if I bail on them. Especially—” She cut herself off again.

“Especially with me,” Trey finished for her. He sighed a little bit. “It’s okay, Cassie. I get it.”

“It’s just that they warned me about you,” Cassie said, wanting him to understand. She peered up at him. “Specifically.”

He sighed again and then shrugged. “So don’t tell them,” he said.

“I’m not going to lie to my friends!” Cassie replied. But something whispered that it would be a whole lot easier not to tell them. She frowned. “We can’t have a secret thing, can we?”

“You need to figure out how to tell your friends,” Trey said. “I get that. So take as much time as you need. Maybe you need to figure out how to trust me too.” He ran his hands over her hair, and smiled down at her.

“Maybe I do,” Cassie replied, unable to stop herself from smiling back at him.

“See?” He kissed her again, a long and lingering kiss. “We can do this. We can keep it to ourselves until you’re ready.”

“I’ll tell them soon,” Cassie promised, closing her eyes and arching into him. She felt alive and ridiculously happy, and felt only the slightest twinge of guilt at the secrecy. But she knew Greta would freak. She needed to come up with a plan—and didn’t it count for something that Trey was so understanding? “I just need a little time.”