Labor of Love (4 page)

B
rady tasted like strawberry daiquiri, and I thought his mouth should be cold from the frozen drink, but it wasn't. It was hot. Very hot.

He brought the beads and his knuckles up beneath my chin. He tilted my head back slightly and started kissing me more thoroughly.

And the thing was—I was kissing him back.

I told myself that the sip of daiquiri had gone to my head. I told myself that it was simply the craziness of Bourbon Street.

But I think part of it was that I wanted to hurt Drew. Like me kissing a guy as though my life depended on it would somehow make us even.

Which was crazy. Because Drew would never know. And it wasn't fair to Brady. And I knew, I knew, I
knew
that I should stop kissing him. That my reasons for kissing him had nothing at all to do with him, but was some convoluted sense of revenge.

Brady was such a nice guy, with a terrific smile. And he kissed me like Drew never had. Part of me wanted to stay there forever.

But it was wrong.

I drew back.

Brady gave me a broad smile. “Oh yeah.”

He leaned back in. I put my hand on his bare chest. His skin was warm and my fingers tingled. I almost moved back toward him. Instead, I said, “I've gotta go.”

He looked like I'd just told him that he'd stepped in something gross. “What?”

“I have a curfew.”

“A curfew?”

“Yeah, our chaperone is picking us up at the gate to Jackson Square.” I looked at my watch, preparing to lie about the pickup time, but it really was almost eleven. How had that happened? Time had completely gotten away from me. “She's picking us up at eleven. I really have to go. Thanks for the beads, for dinner, for . . . everything.”

The kiss,
I thought,
really, really thank you for the amazing kiss.

Turning, I hurried back the way we'd come. Or I tried to hurry. It was a little hard when I had to wedge myself between people. “Coming through. Excuse me.”

“Wait, you can't just . . . go off by yourself!” I heard Brady call out.

Only I wasn't planning to go off by myself. I was planning to go with Jenna and Amber. I just had to find them.

Brady caught up with me. “Hey, come on. Slow down.”

I had my phone out, trying to call Jenna. I didn't know if she'd be able to hear her cell ringing over the saxophones and horns playing their upbeat music and the din of all the people.

“Hey, Dawn, wait up.” Brady grabbed my arm.

I spun around. “You're a nice guy, but—”

“It's okay. I didn't realize . . . a curfew. Wow. Do your friends have one?”

I nodded, wishing I'd used some other excuse. I suddenly felt like such a kid. “It's not really a curfew; it's just that she's picking us up at eleven, so we need to go. Otherwise, she might give us a real curfew.”

That sounded worse. Why didn't I just shut up already?

“Okay, I just wish you'd said something sooner.”

If I had, he probably wouldn't have brought me to Bourbon Street at all. He probably wouldn't have kissed me.

It took us nearly twenty minutes to find everyone else. Brady didn't say anything the entire time. Didn't hold my hand, although he did keep brushing up against me when the crowds thickened. He'd put his shirt back on— thank goodness. He placed his arm around my shoulders only once and that was when some drunken guy almost stumbled into me—Brady pulled me out of the way, trying to protect me.

I kept thinking I had to be insane for not holding on to this guy with both hands. I probably could have called Ms. Wynder and . . . what? Our first night here and we couldn't meet up for the rendezvous because we were partying too hard? I was pretty sure that wouldn't go over well.

After we found everyone, we headed for Jackson Square. Tank and Jenna were in the lead again, holding hands. Amber was with Sean, talking. Brady and I trailed behind.

“Look, about that kiss—” Brady began.

“Don't worry about it. It was no big deal.”

“Ouch!”

I grimaced. That had really come off sounding bad. I wanted to be cool about it, but I didn't know how. I mean, Drew and I had dated about a month before he ever got up the courage to kiss me. I think it had been his first kiss, too, and it had been, well, awkward. Eventually, we were kissing like pros. I'm not sure pro what. Are there pro kissers?

“I just meant that I know it was the craziness of Bourbon Street that made us kiss,” I said.

“You think?”

“Oh yeah. I mean, we just met. It can't be more than that.”

“I guess.”

“I mean, this wasn't even a date or anything. It was just hanging out.”

“Okay. Yeah.”

I couldn't tell if he was disappointed or relieved.

When we got near the gate, I saw the other three girls Ms. Wynder had dropped off earlier. They went to my school, too, but I didn't know them very well.

“There's our group,” I told Brady.

I turned around, walking backward. “Thanks again.”

A familiar minivan pulled up to the curb. Amber, Jenna, and I started running for it.

 

We were all eerily quiet in the minivan after Ms. Wynder asked how our day was and we all responded “Great.” As though a one-word answer would suffice when it most certainly didn't.

It had been one of the most up-and-down days of my life. I'd run through the entire gamut of emotions. I was exhausted. And wondering about the psychic's prediction. Was Brady the guy? Had I seen him for the last time? Was my last memory of him going to be watching him fade into the shadows of the night?

Once we got to our dorm room, we all let out collective sighs and started preparing for bed. Even though it seemed like something needed to be said, none of us was saying anything.

I plugged in the pump and pressed the button to inflate the AeroBed that I'd be sleeping on. Each dorm room had only two beds. I had the choice of an air mattress or a roommate I didn't know—Amber and Jenna had already agreed to bunk together before I realized that I wouldn't be doing a summer tour of Texas water parks with Drew. Yeah, that had been our plan. To be together as much as possible. Slipping and sliding the summer away. It had sure sounded like fun at the time.

Since my life seemed to be a series of adjustments lately, I hadn't wanted to adjust to living with a stranger, so I'd decided to go the air mattress route.

Besides, the summer would be a lot more fun if we were all together. Every night would be a sleepover.

Amber sat on the edge of her bed. “Okay, guys, I need y'all to promise that you'll never tell Chad what I did tonight.”

Crouching on the floor by the mattress, I twisted around. “What did you do?”

“Where were
you
? I hung out with another guy!” Her voice went up a bit; it had an almost-panicked sound to it.

I know after my prom night experience, I probably should have been all over her case, but Amber was innocent. She hadn't done anything wrong, which I felt a need to point out. “Yeah, but you—what? Listened to music?”

She nodded and looked miserable.

“It's not like you were all over him, or sneaking around.”

“Still, he's a guy.”

“But you can have guy friends.”

“Just don't say anything to Chad. Ever.”

“We won't tell,” Jenna said.

“Of course, we won't,” I assured her. “You don't even have to ask.”

“Thanks. He just so wouldn't understand.” She looked at Jenna. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You and Tank. Are you going to see him again?”

She shrugged. “I gave him my cell phone number, but we were in such a rush at the end, we didn't really say good-bye or make any plans—”

Her cell phone rang. She took it out of her shorts pocket and just stared at it.

“Answer it,” I prodded.

“It's Tank. What do I say?”

“Hello?” I suggested.

She took a deep breath, opened her phone, and answered, “Hey.”

With a big smile, she said, “Oh yeah. We're fine. I know it was crazy there at the end. I didn't realize it was so late until Dawn found us.” She laughed. “No, we don't turn into pumpkins at midnight.”

Rolling onto her side, she curled up and started talking really quietly.

“Should we leave the room?” Amber whispered.

“Nah. We can't head out every time one of us gets a phone call.” I turned off the pump and tested the firmness of my bed. It worked.

“What are we going to do if she keeps seeing him?” Amber asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the other two guys will probably be there. I just don't know if it's such a good idea for all of us to hang out together. I mean—”

“Why don't we worry about it if it happens?”

She jerked her thumb toward Jenna. “You don't think his calling means it's going to happen?”

It probably did.

“I'm too tired to solve this right now,” I told her. I just wanted to go to sleep. We'd been running around all day.

“I know I'm probably worried about nothing. Gawd, I wish we hadn't decided to visit a psychic.” Amber got her stuff together and went into the bathroom.

I fingered the beads dangling around my neck. I didn't know why I'd freaked out when Brady kissed me. Yes, I did. Brady was nice and that scared me. I didn't trust him not to hurt me. Even for one night. It was a lot easier leaving him than it would be having him leave me.

Jenna had talked about having a summer fling, but I'd never had a casual relationship. Drew had been my first date. I didn't know how to date a guy without caring about him. And why would I want to?

Why spend time with someone I didn't like? And if I liked him, well, the more time I spent with him, it seemed like the more I'd start to like him, and the next thing I'd know . . . I'd be vulnerable again.

The best thing for me to do this summer was to just hang out with Jenna and Amber. And if Jenna was with Tank all the time, then Amber and I would buddy up.

I was probably worrying for nothing.

I'd never see Brady again, anyway. Even if Jenna saw Tank, it didn't mean that Amber and I would hook up with the other guys.

Brady was no doubt going to be just a one night . . . whatever.

“O
kay, I've blogged day one of what I'm calling our Amazing Summer Adventure,” Jenna said, leaning away from the desk where she'd set up her laptop.

It was the next morning. Ms. Wynder had knocked on our door shortly after the sun made its appearance. When I'd volunteered for this, I hadn't considered that I'd be sleep deprived the whole summer. Even when I worked for my parents, I didn't go in until just before the lunch crowd hit.

Although I suppose I wouldn't have been dragging so much if I hadn't stared into the darkness for most of the night, thinking about Brady. Reliving the kiss. Wondering if he'd decided that I was a total nut.

What did I care what he thought? I'd probably never see him again. Saraphina's predictions were no doubt all jumbled up. Visions weren't an exact science. Just because she'd mentioned hammering and a red cap didn't mean they were in proximity. Last night was probably it.

Of course, Amber, who was used to getting up with the cows—literally—was her usual perky self. She seemed to be totally over all the doubts she'd had the day before about the psychic encounter.

She and I peered over Jenna's shoulder. Jenna wanted to be a journalist, so she was all about reporting what was happening in our lives—with posting photos and all. And there was the photo of me and Brady.

I looked…happy. And he looked…sexy. And together we looked…cuddly. An item.

And I thought,
Drew, eat your heart out.

“So Drew is still on your friends list?” I asked, trying not to sound as interested as I was.

“Oh, sure. He's bound to see this.”

“Why?”

“Because I write interesting stuff, and he knows it. And he'll be interested. I mean, face
it. What we're doing here is way different from what anyone else is doing over the summer. He'll want to know all the delicious details.”

She got up from the chair and I sat down. The room didn't have much furniture except the beds, two dressers, a desk, and three chairs—two of which we'd raided from a lounge down the hall.

Amber pressed up against my back as she tried to read what Jenna had written. “You didn't mention Sean, did you?”

“Of course not.”

Jenna had written about our visit with the psychic but glossed over her prediction for Amber—no doubt because Chad was on her friends list, too, and he didn't need to know that Amber might find someone better.

Jenna hadn't revealed anything incriminating. Still, it always unsettled me a little to see the intimate details of my life shared with others.

“Oh, by the way,” Jenna said as she started getting dressed, “I might see Tank tonight.”

I could hear the excitement in her voice.

“Where?” I asked, trying to sound casually interested, instead of anxious to know if that
meant that I might see Brady. Did I want to see him? I did. Scary.

Amber moved away to start getting dressed, too. I decided I'd better follow or I'd be left behind. I pulled on the Helping Hands Helping Humans T-shirt that Ms. Wynder had designed for us to wear the first day to identify our group. It had hands all over it. What can I say? She was more into numbers than art.

Jenna shrugged. “I'm supposed to figure out exactly where the dorm is and call him later with directions. He has a car. Said he'd come get me.”

“That's awesome!” Amber said at the same time I said, “Aren't things moving a little fast?”

I never would have asked that question before prom night. Sometimes I missed the old me.

“I mean—”

“I know,” Jenna said. “You got hurt and now you don't trust boys, and you're worried that I'll get hurt, too.”

“I trust boys.” I trusted them to hurt me. Drew had really messed me up. I hated that I was giving him that power.

I sat on a chair and started lacing up my
hiking boots. We'd been warned to wear sturdy shoes and jeans because we didn't know what we'd run across in the debris. No exposed legs. No sandals.

“You don't trust boys,” Jenna repeated.

What was I supposed to say to that? Do, too? So we could get into exchanging meaningless comebacks like two-year-olds?

“Uh, y'all, do we
have
to wear these T-shirts?” Amber asked.

I looked over at her and saw that the hands on her T-shirt were rudely placed. I dropped my gaze to my own chest. Yep, those little hands were sending a message that I didn't want to send.

Jenna started laughing. “Oh my gosh. I never thought I'd be so glad for a tall body. At least my hands aren't exactly where they shouldn't be.”

“Considering the message, I don't think we do need to wear them,” I said. “At least I'm not.”

I jerked off my T-shirt and scrounged around in my suitcase until I found a faded T-shirt from a vacation my family had taken at Thrill Ride! Amusement Park.

Amber and Jenna changed their shirts, too.

I welcomed the distraction from what might have turned into an argument with Jenna. I was really happy for her, glad she'd met a guy who wasn't bothered by her height. And I really, really hoped…

I didn't know what I hoped. That she didn't get hurt, of course, because we were only here for the summer, and he was only here for the summer, and even though he went to college in Houston…. I suppose their relationship could last past our time in New Orleans. As a matter of fact, before prom night, I probably would have
believed
in it continuing after we got home. But I used to believe in a lot of good things, like love was forever and boyfriends were neat to have.

 

Pancakes and sausages were waiting for us in the cafeteria. Several of the volunteers were already eating. Our little group of six, along with Ms. Wynder, gathered at one table. While we ate, Ms. Wynder went over the safety rules again: Watch out for critters, stay alert, don't get in a hurry, haste makes waste, the usual
stuff. When we were finished eating, we headed outside, climbed into her minivan, and caravanned with the other volunteers to the site.

We were silent as we drove along, looking out the windows at the devastation. Walking through the French Quarter yesterday, having fun, it was easy to forget how ruined other parts of New Orleans still were. But we could also see the areas that had already been rebuilt. They spoke to the strength and determination of the people of the city.

As my admiration for them was growing, my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of the case attached to my belt. My dad had given me the case because he thought it would make it easier to keep my phone handy and he didn't want me to be without quick access to it. “In case of an emergency.”

So maybe he and Mom
were
a little worried about me being away from home—at least, that's what occurred to me when I saw Mom's name pop up in the window.

“Hey,” I said, after answering.

“What's going on?” Mom asked curtly.

Her question wasn't at all friendly. Not a
what's happening?
It was more of a
what trouble are you getting into?

I was sitting on the backseat between Amber and Jenna. They must have heard her through the phone because they both looked at me.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Drew e-mailed me a picture of you with some guy—”

“He did what?” That jerk! Why would he do that?

“He sent me—”

“Sorry, Mom,” I interrupted again. Mom hated being interrupted, but she was almost four hundred miles away. What could she do, other than growl? “I got you the first time. My question was more of a ‘what was he thinking.'”

“So who is this guy?”

“Just someone I met.”

She was quiet for a minute. It was never good when Mom was quiet.

“He's a student at Rice,” I felt compelled to explain. “He's here for the summer doing the same thing we are.”

“Does Ms. Wynder know him?”

Define know
, I thought. She'd seen him if she'd been looking out her window last night at the precise moment needed to see him before he disappeared.

“Yes.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping she wouldn't ask to speak with Ms. Wynder.

“It's just that I know you're still not over Drew—”

“I am over Drew,” I interrupted.

“—and I don't want you doing anything stupid,” Mom finished.

“I won't. Don't worry.”

Of course, do we ever
plan
to do something stupid? It's not like I wake up in the morning and think, “Today would be a good day to do something stupid.”

“It's a mother's job to worry,” Mom said. “I just need reassurance there isn't any craziness going on.”

“None whatsoever. Please don't worry, Mom. I'm fine. We're in the van now, heading to the site.” I thought trying to distract her would
be a good move on my part. “We're looking forward to helping to clean things up.”

“Yet you don't seem to care about cleaning your room. What's wrong with this picture?”

I could tell that she was teasing and had gotten past whatever had been bothering her. We talked for a little while longer, then said good-bye. I told Jenna and Amber what Drew had done.

“Why would he do that?” Jenna asked.

I shrugged, surprised that he cared what I was doing. I hadn't
really
thought that he'd read Jenna's blog. Why would he? We were so over. Why would he care?

“He's definitely coming off my friends list,” Jenna said.

I didn't say anything, but I thought he should have come off sooner.

“Everything all right back there?” Ms. Wynder asked.

“Yes, ma'am. Just my mom missing me.”

And my ex-boyfriend trying to stir up trouble.