Hard to Get (19 page)

I took a long wavering breath, blew my nose, and poured out the whole, awful story: the chemistry between me and Adam, the weirdness about the dance lesson, tension at graffiti tower, and finally, what had happened this afternoon.

“I really, really want to go to prom with him,” I finished, surrounded by wads of damp tissue. “But it's not even that the GNBP isn't over until after prom. The problem is that—”

“You really like him, and not just as a boy toy,” Becca finished for me.

I blinked and sat up. “Yeah. How'd you know?”

She sighed into my ear. “Val, it's so obvious. I've known for days. It was written all over you when we saw you at the art store, and then the day we sat with him at lunch just confirmed it. I'm not blind, you know.”

“But this wasn't supposed to happen! I'm not done with the GNBP!” I wailed. Now the comforter was smothering me. I threw it off
and lay flat on the bed with my arms and legs spread out. “But I feel awful keeping secrets from him. I don't know.” I thrashed back and forth. “I mean, at first it was all about the GNBP and getting away from school. But now it's more than that—a lot more.”

Becca sighed. “Look, why don't you just forget the GNBP? Who cares, anyway? Just go be with Adam.”

“What!” I sprang off the bed as if it had suddenly become a nest of snakes. “Are you saying I should just
quit
the GNBP? What about our bet? What about the dress and the earrings?”

“So?”

“So! I thought you were supporting me.” I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the window and stared out at the neat, silent backyard.

“I
am
. Look, Val, I'm your best friend, right?”

“Right.”

“And you know I love you like crazy, right?”

I sighed. “Of course. Where are you going with this?”

“Well, you're not going to like this,” Becca said. “But I have to tell you I think it's
incredibly dumb to give up this awesome guy for a bet. You're insanely stubborn.”

“Thanks for the advice, Ms. Relationship Guru 2010.
I
think I need to just forget Adam and move on.”

Becca lapsed into silence. I strained but I couldn't even hear her breathing. I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the screen. Still connected.

“Becca?”

More breathing. Then she said, “Sorry, I was just thinking about something. Okay, yeah, you're right. You probably should just put this whole thing behind you. The GNBP lives on! Right?” Her voice had changed from somber to perky.

“Right,” I said, confused at the sudden shift. “That's what I'm thinking.”

“Okay—hey, I have to go. Talk to you tomorrow.” Before I could respond, she hung up. For a long time, I stood still in the middle of the room. My mind was boiling. But as my brain slowly cooled, I could see that the solution I had proposed—just forget Adam and move on with the GNBP—was actually now my biggest problem.

Friday night.
Bzz. Bzz.

I reached one arm out from under the covers and slapped blearily at my alarm clock. “Shut up,” I muttered at it. But the buzzing sound continued. I stuck my head out from the tangled covers and stared at the clock. Two thirty. My phone was vibrating on my bedside table. I grabbed at it and knocked it onto the floor.

“Oooh,” I groaned, as only someone who is woken up at two thirty can, and leaned over to fish the phone out from under the bed. I held the screen up to my face. Kelly.

I flipped it open. “Wha?” I managed, sinking back onto the pillow. No one was there. I pulled the phone away and stared at
the screen again.
Put clothes on and be outside in five minutes,
the text read
.

I stared at the phone for several more moments, as if it were a genie lamp that might give me more information. Finally, I threw back the covers and heaved myself out of bed. I shivered as the cool air in the room hit my sweat-coated body. My night's sleep hadn't exactly been restful.

I stumbled around in the dark, tripping over various pieces of furniture, until I found my track pants. I pulled them on, stuffed my hair under my OSU baseball cap, and gingerly opened my door. All was dark and quiet. I tiptoed from the room. Halfway down the hall, I tripped on a pile of books stacked near the wall and almost pitched headfirst down the stairs. I caught my balance and froze. The line under Mom and Dad's door remained dark.

I steadied my breathing and crept downstairs and out the front door, easing it closed behind me. For a moment, I stood under the porch light with kamikaze moths trying to dive-bomb my ears. At the curb, the BMW was idling under a streetlamp, with Becca and Kelly in the front seat.

“Hi. You do know it's two thirty a.m., right?”
I asked as I climbed in. “Because I just want to make sure you're not trying to pick me up for school. Those hallucinations can come on fast, you know.”

Kelly twisted around and fixed me with a piercing stare. “Shh. No talking.” She pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt and faced forward again, as Becca gunned the engine, jolting us all back against our seats.

“Becca! What is going on?” I yelled as she screeched up the street. “Have you guys gone out of your minds? I've had a really crappy day, as you might remember, and I'd really like to just—”

Kelly twisted around again, this time holding a sweatband in her hands. “For your information, Val, you're being kidnapped. If you keep talking, I'll have to blindfold and gag you.” She flourished the piece of terry cloth.

“That's a sweatband,” I pointed out.

She looked down. “Yeah, I know.” She stuffed it under her seat.

Becca slowed and turned into the Wendy's drive-thru. “Okay, chicks, I think we all need some fuel, because we have a long night ahead of us.”

After ordering disgusting amounts of food, Becca drove slowly down side streets and finally pulled into the deep shadows of an oak tree. She rolled down the windows, then sat back with a sigh. The cool night air, scented with damp leaves and earth, blew through the car. I leaned over the center console as Kelly dipped into the big warm paper bag and doled out sandwiches in shiny foil.

I balanced my fries on the seat next to me and unwrapped my Crispy Chicken Deluxe, complete with double bacon, cheese, and extra mayo. The car was quiet except for the sound of thoughtful chewing.

After a few minutes, I stuffed the rest of my sandwich back into the bag and leaned forward. “All right, are you going to tell me what's going on?” I said.

Becca and Kelly glanced at each other. Then Kelly set her half-eaten burger on the dashboard and took a deep breath. She scooted her seat back and faced me. “Look, Val. It's very simple: We're calling off the GNBP.”

“What!”

Kelly pulled a piece of grubby folded paper from her back pocket. Maple syrup stains dotted the outside.

“What are you doing with the contract, Kel?” I asked with trepidation.

Kelly glanced at Becca, who nodded slightly. “This …” She ripped the paper in half and in half again until my GNBP was reduced to little bits that fluttered over the sidewalk like white moths in the night.

“Stop!” I swiped at the pieces, but they had already scattered.

Becca leaned over. “Look, Val, we think this whole thing has gotten out of control. I mean, at first it was fun, right? With the bet and everything. But lately … things have gotten serious. You were really upset when you called me earlier, weren't you?”

I nodded slowly. There was no use in denying it.

Becca went on. “I really did think the GNBP would be good for you, to clear your mind after Dave. And Kelly thought that meeting guys and having a good time would be best for you. Things just got out of control.” She opened her car door. “We want you to know we're serious.”

Kelly got out of the car too, and after a moment's hesitation, I followed. Becca opened the trunk of the car and hauled out a large mass of something. I peered at it
in the dim light. I almost gasped. “It's the dress!”

“And the heels,” Kelly chimed in solemnly.

Ceremoniously, Becca marched over to a row of trash cans sitting outside one of the suburban homes nearby. She opened the lid and threw the dress and shoes in. I watched in stunned silence.

“And I told my dad to put the jewels back in the safe-deposit box. No one's wearing them now.”

I sank down onto the cool dewy grass. Kelly and Becca each sat down next to me.

“Val.” Kelly put her hand on my knee. “Becs and I want to help you. So we're going to interfere in your life one more time.” She looked right into my eyes. “You need to tell Adam exactly what you feel and what's been going on.”

I was silent. She and Becca watched me anxiously.

Tell Adam everything … ? I thought of his hurt face today at the mural and slowly shook my head. He'd never speak to me again. I got to my feet and brushed the damp grass from the rear of my jeans. “This is a lot to digest. I'll think about it, okay?”

They both stood up too. “Val,” Becca said.
“That's the other part of our plan. The first part is that we're squashing the GNBP. No more betting, no more games—from any of us. The second part is that we're not letting you go until you swear that you'll talk to Adam. Kelly and I love you—we're not going to let you throw this chance away.”

I stared at the earnest faces of my two friends for a long moment. What they had done was nosy and pushy. But it was true—they loved me. Maybe I should trust them on this one. I nodded slowly. “I can't say one hundred percent what I'm going to do. But I hear what you're saying. I really do. I'll think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” Becca agreed. “I guess that's all we can really expect.”

We drove home through the silent, sleeping streets. As I opened the car door in front of my house, Becca leaned over into the space between the seats, her worried face illuminated by the yellow overhead light. “Val, are you okay? You know this only happened because we love you, right?” she asked.

I gave her a little smile, my first since this afternoon. “Yeah. I don't know what I'm going to do about Adam, but I do know that.” I shut the car door and went into the house.

I thought I'd be awake all that night, but after shedding my track pants and cap, I fell into bed and was instantly asleep. When my eyes opened, lemon sunlight was flooding the room and the clock said 7:00. I rubbed my face with both hands. Adam. I had to decide what to do about Adam.

I sat there in bed for an hour, the covers pooling around my waist, arms clasped around my drawn-up knees, letting all the thoughts rattle around in my brain. I could feel the pieces clicking into place, one by one. Before I even realized it, my mind was made up.

I got out of bed. A soft spring breeze stirred the curtains, carrying the scent of
honeysuckle from outside, but I barely noticed. I felt like I was following a mental checklist—when it was complete, I'd have fixed my love life or ruined it. There wasn't a lot of middle ground.

First, I grabbed my phone and texted Adam.
Meet me at Brandt Park at 10. Please
. I could only hope he would show up. Then I stripped off my rumpled pajamas and climbed into the shower. The sharp citrus scent of my grapefruit body wash cut any fog left from the night and cleared my head. I pulled on a black cotton sundress and twisted my hair into a knot on top of my head.

When I pulled up to the park entrance, I could already see Adam sitting at a wooden picnic table set in a grove of trees. He was facing away from me, the flickering light from the leaves overhead playing across his shoulders and back. His shoulders were hunched, his hands laced together on the table in front of him.

“Adam,” I said quietly as I approached. “Hi.” He looked up, stone-faced. I took a deep breath and tentatively perched across from him, the warm wood of the picnic bench splintery under my thighs. He was gazing
determinedly at a line of trees in front of us. “Adam, we have to talk,” I said. I wanted my voice to come out quiet and firm, but it really sounded more wavery and scared.