Perfect Glass (A Young Adult Novel (sequel to Glass Girl)) (26 page)

“It’s not a date, Dad.”

“Again,” he said. “This I know. Apparently your mother loves dances.”

“Apparently.”

He reached over and patted my covered leg. “You know, Meg, you don’t have to feel responsible for Jo.”

I kicked the blanket off and stood. “Is that why you’re really in here?” I said, feeling my hackles rise. My parents had wanted me to help Jo, but after the ninth or tenth day of my hospital vigil, they’d felt less charitable. “She doesn’t have anyone, Dad. She has me. Which is just sad.”

He watched me. “I understand. But don’t lose yourself in her serious issues. You’re eighteen. Okay? We want you to have a minute when you’re not worrying about the hardest things in life. We want you to enjoy college and travel and be the creative soul you were born to be.”

“You know,” I said, rubbing my temples. “Maybe it’s that I haven’t slept well in two weeks or that school sucks or that Henry has basically not called in days, but I’m not really in the mood to talk about how I’m dealing with my friend.”

“Fair enough.” He spoke quietly and sat still, recognizing that I was on edge.

“And you can’t possibly be representing Mom’s opinion in this,” I said. “After what we saw in Jo’s studio, I’m pretty sure Mom would defend me for helping out.”

Nodding, he stood and matched my pose, arms crossed over his chest. “Okay,” he said, meeting my stare with a challenge of his own. “It could be that it’s just me. Your dad. Who only wants the best for you and who is watching you deal with something difficult. Again.”

Instantly, I thought of the two of us in this house last year. For so long, we wondered if Mom would ever come home. We’d tried to hold life together before all the little cracks made us crumble.

“Yes,” he said, intent on my face. “You remember what it felt like. I’m seeing that same shuttered thing that you do. You close down. You handle it. I want more for you.”

“Okay, Dad,” I said. “I promise I’m all right and, if I’m ever not all right, I’ll come to you and Mom.”

Nodding once, he turned toward my door. “What time are you leaving tonight?”

“I don’t know.” I picked up my cell and noticed Quinn had been texting most of the day. The last text said—
I hope you’re still going because I’m now wearing a suit. A suit, Meg. A suit. I’ll pick you up at 7:30
.

“Seven-thirty,” I said.

An hour later, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, in the dress I’d borrowed from Tennyson, while my mom dried my hair straight and put more makeup on me than I’d ever worn. There’s something to be said for allowing an artist free rein with your makeup. She knew my bones better than I did, from years and years of painting me just from memory.

“You look like a present, all wrapped up.” She ran a powder brush over the cleavage we were all meeting for the first time. “Your dad is not going to be happy about what you’ve got going on here.”

“He can avert his eyes. I’ll wear a coat until I get to the dance.” I studied the area in question. “If he thinks this is too much, he needs to take a stroll through Tennyson’s closet one day.”

“Oh, I know.” She kissed the crown of my head and we looked at my image in the mirror together. “You’re beautiful. Inside and out.”

“No tears,” I said. “No sap.”

“Nope. I’ve got exquisite control.” But she didn’t. Not really.

Headlights danced through the bathroom window and I rushed to my room to grab a coat and my phone. Henry had texted—
I didn’t forget. I hope you have fun tonight. I love you…

I texted back—
I’ll send pics soon. Love you, too
.

I felt so out of the loop with Henry. I knew things were bad there. I’d seen Kate at the hospital with her parents visiting Jo and she’d asked how much he’d told me.

“Nothing,” I’d said. “Really, absolutely nothing.”

I walked into the living room just as Quinn shook my dad’s hand. He was nervous. His hair was as shaggy as ever, but the rest of him looked completely different. His navy suit had an updated Kinks vibe and he had on this awesome skinny tie with tiny bass guitars on it. He’d left his top button open and his tie loose. When my dad noticed this, his mouth opened and snapped shut.

Quinn introduced Abby to my parents, then let Thanet do the talking, while he stood and smiled liked a goofball. Happy. He was happy.

“Look at all of you.” My mom sounded a little tipsy with excitement. “Grab the camera, Jack!”

I could feel Quinn’s gaze on me, running over my face and arms and legs. I’d never felt more awkward.

“You look so pretty, Abby,” I said, hoping to draw attention to her. She was wearing a black taffeta dress, all drape and swing. “Is that vintage?”

“It’s 1960s, I think,” she said, smoothing the skirt. “I bought it from a friend back in Rhode Island.”

“Look at your shoes, Miss Abby O’Neill,” my mom said. “I had those shoes. Didn’t I have those shoes, Jack? When I lived in Paris. They were even retro then.”

“Honey, you had a hundred pairs of shoes when you lived in Paris.”

She raised an eyebrow and smiled. “You boys look fantastic, too. Line up. Picture time.”

My mom grabbed Quinn and walked him backward toward the fireplace. She tugged me along and tucked me next to him at an angle. Thanet and Abby were working on getting Thanet’s tie straight, so we waited.

“You look incredible, Kavanagh,” Quinn whispered close to my ear. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“
Ssshhh
,” I hissed. “They’re going to hear you.”

“I can’t tell my date she’s beautiful?”

I turned my head. “No. No, you can’t.”

He sighed. “Do you want me to call him right now? I can call him or text him and tell him thanks for trusting me. Or something that sounds like a boy scout. I just want us to have a good time tonight, Meg. Not be all weird about everything.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“We’re just friends,” he continued, his voice sounding more irritated by the second. “It’s not like this is unprecedented. People go to dances as friends all the time.”

My mom was listening. I could tell by how still she’d gone, although she was pretending to help Thanet. Before I could be too mortified, Quinn said, “Mrs. Kavanagh, my mom would die to have copies of the pictures you take. Would you mind emailing them?”

I smiled up at him, silently thanking him for taking the spotlight off me.

***

“I can’t believe I’m at a dance,” Thanet said when Abby excused herself to go to the restroom. He’d been looking a little green since we parked the car. “I can’t dance. I’d kill myself and Abby if I tried.”

“Have you even looked at the dance floor, Than? None of these people can dance. It’s all awkward hormone swapping. Let’s just sit right here and watch.”

He smiled. “Yeah, it’s butt sweat and pervy people.”

I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “When you say things like that I love you even more.”

Quinn sat down on the bleacher next to me with the drink he’d promised. “There’s a dude standing behind the punch table who literally says, ‘Spiked or not?’ when you ask for a drink.”

I raised my glass. “Spiked or not?”

“What do you think?” Quinn said, chuckling. “Your boyfriend would have my head on a platter if I tried something like that.”

“Thanet is having a moment,” I said, leaning forward so Quinn could see him.

“What’s wrong, man?” Quinn said. “Were you not aware high school dances suck? That they always have sucked and they will continue sucking as long as the world turns?”

Thanet laughed one of his high-pitched, snorting kind of laughs he normally reserved for YouTube comedy.

“Then why are we here?” I said.

“Because we’re making memories,” Quinn said, raising his glass to mine. “And if my theory is right, the next song is slow. Two techno, one punk emo, one old rock, one pseudo-country, and then he slows it down. And the teacher by the lights pulls up a little on the dimmer. He’s either getting his jollies watching or he’s trying to reduce teen pregnancy by half.”

“Gross,” I said.

When the next song started, couples moved toward the dance floor like their lives depended on it. They looked damp and wrinkled. Quinn surprised me by taking my cup and pushing it under the bleacher with his.

He held his hand out. “Kavanagh, would you like to dance?”

I stared at him. “Is this like where you stop the car so I can get in, but, when I try, you gun it?”

He grinned. “I would never do that to you. I seriously want to dance a cliché slow song with you.”

“What about Thanet?” I said.

“What about him?”

I gestured toward the crowd. “We were just laughing at people. Now he’ll laugh at us.”

Quinn searched the crowd. “Who cares? Abby’s headed this way. They can have some alone time.”

“Go. Maybe we’ll join you.” Thanet watched Abby make her way across the gym floor. She kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Her awkwardness made her even more adorable and Thanet’s lips turned up in a smile.

I didn’t know the song playing when Quinn spun me backward and into his arms. I had just grown used to the idea that we were standing so close together when I heard a noise from the bleachers. Quinn twisted so he could see better, then he took my elbow and steered me into a crowd that had gathered around the bleachers.

Abby lay on her back on the gym floor and Thanet was sprawled on top of her. His legs were sawing in the air. I knew what had happened immediately because I’d worried about this scenario every time I climbed stairs next to Thanet. He was probably following her down the bleachers and got his foot caught. Abby, too small to catch him and make it stick, had collapsed under his weight.

Red-faced and horrified, Thanet pushed away people who tried to help. Abby struggled to catch her breath, pressing on Thanet’s chest to get him to move. But he’d landed on his bad side, so he couldn’t get twisted in the right direction.

“Abby, I would chew through my own leg to make this better,” he said. “Just give me a minute to get my balance.”

People stared at Quinn and me, expecting us to rescue them. But I’d learned, from being with him when he falls, that Thanet doesn’t want help getting up. In fact, it doesn’t matter how painful it looks or how hard it is for him, you’d better keep your hands to yourself.

Quinn seemed to know this intuitively so he waited patiently until Thanet rolled himself off Abby. Then he reached down and helped his sister up.

“Is it just me, or is the heat on full blast?” I asked Quinn. My heart raced with the adrenaline pouring through my veins.

“It’s hot.” He smirked and pointed with his chin. “Plus, the entire student body is circling around us. We’ve been cut from the herd.”

Abby slowly pulled bobby pins from her hair and I held out my palm to hold them for her. Thanet righted himself and sat, catching his breath. He watched Abby with a wary look.

Quinn dropped to the floor and lay next to him, making a joke about looking up girls’ dresses. Abby moved to stand closer to Thanet. I, for a reason I can’t even define, inched closer to Quinn.

The whole episode had lasted less than a minute, but in mortified teenage time, it had taken hours and hours. Days. I think I blacked out at one point.

Thanet finally met my eyes and mouthed, “Can we go?”

I nodded once. “Let’s move this party somewhere private,” I said to Quinn.

He smiled a slow, lopsided grin and jumped up, putting his arm around Abby and whispering something in her ear. Thanet hissed once as he stood, his face contorting in pain. I already dreaded the conversation with Thanet’s mom, Annie.

In the car, no one made excuses or tried to saccharine Thanet to death. He apologized once to Abby and she brushed it off, claiming that her high heels had created the problem. Thanet rolled his eyes but smiled at her effort. Quinn opened the windows in his car and shocked us all with the freezing wind that blew in, screwing up our hair.

“Just thought we could air it out, you know? Blow it all out and forget about it.”

He reached for the volume on his stereo and blasted some band whose singer wailed about assumptions made and questions never asked. I texted Annie a little preview of what was headed her way. She’d raised Thanet to be independent and strong and to handle situations like tonight with quiet dignity. If she hadn’t, this night might have been a total loss. Instead, it was only slightly singed.

Before we drove away from Thanet’s house, he asked Abby if she’d ever let him call her again.

“Of course,” she said, slugging him in the arm, then blushing and apologizing.

Later, in the dark of the car, Abby leaned forward and told us that Thanet was the best guy she’d ever met. I smiled, but I don’t think they saw. Quinn watched Abby in his rearview as she stared out the back window. He asked her if he could drop her off before he took me home.

And that was how Quinn and I ended up in the huge leather chairs next to a roaring fire in the lobby of my dad’s hotel. Both of us kicked our shoes off and warmed our toes on the stone hearth.

“How do you like my fancy great room?” he asked, waving his arms around like some British nobleman.

“It’s kind of small.”

He raised his eyebrows. “But I have three hundred en suite chamber rooms upstairs.”

“Still not impressed.” I giggled, sleepy enough to fade away right where I sat.

“You were the prettiest girl there.” Quinn’s voice sounded as tired as mine. I raised one eyelid to look at him. His eyes were closed and his hands were folded on his stomach.

“Thanks,” I said. “I liked your whole look, too.”

“Hey, Meg—” He leaned forward and gave me this look like a confession was on the tip of his tongue, but he was interrupted by my phone buzzing with a text from Henry—
Just making sure you made it home in one piece. Let me know so I can sleep.

I stared at his message for a minute feeling like he could see me. Like I’d been caught in the act.

“You should probably text him back so he won’t worry,” Quinn said, leaning back and closing his eyes again. “Go on. I’ll take a nap.”

I slowly typed a message, changing it a few times before sending—
Dance was okay until Thanet fell. We left early. No problems. Sweet dreams. Love, Me.