Harsh Pink with Bonus Content (14 page)

I sigh. What’s the use?

“Sorry,” she says. “Okay, I promise to try to be nice — full of good cheer.”

And by the time we get there, she really seems to be trying. In fact, she puts on a pretty good show that I’m sure surprises everyone. She even flirts with Chad.

“Why did you bring
her
?” asks Kendra.

We’re the only ones in the bathroom now. We’re both reapplying lip gloss in front of the mirror.

“I couldn’t help it,” I say. “I was about to take her home and she practically begged me to. It was pathetic really.”

“That is sad.”

“But I told her if she came she had to be nice.”

Kendra laughs. “Oh, she’s being nice all right. At least to Chad. I can’t remember the last time I saw such shameless flirting. Talk about desperate.”

“Sally doesn’t really like him, does she?”

“Of course not. She’s just trying to get Jocelyn.”

“I didn’t really think Chad was her type.”

“Duh.”

Okay, that’s a bit of a slam. Time to change the subject. “I saw Logan watching you tonight.”

“What?” She looks at me with renewed interest.

I nod and put my lip gloss back into my Marc Jacobs bag. “While you were waiting for drinks. He was just a few feet away from you and it was like he couldn’t take his eyes off you.” This is partially true, although I’m not sure it’s worth much, because the look in his eyes wasn’t exactly adoration. More like lust, I think. Like he was just checking out her body, which is not really the way I would want a guy to look at me. But then I know that Kendra still sort of likes him and I think she wants a second chance with him. Maybe I can help facilitate that.

“Really?” She looks amused. “You saw that?”

“And I don’t know why he wouldn’t be looking,” I continue. “You look really great tonight, Kendra. Your outfit is awesome.”

She tells me who the designers are and that she just got it last night. “It’s hard not being a cheerleader anymore,” she says sadly. “But I try to make up for it by looking really good.”

“Well, you make our cheerleading outfits look pretty juvenile,” I admit.

“Hey, I think the outfits are cute,” she says. “I just wish I could have mine back.” “I know.”

“But back to Logan. You really think he was watching me?”

I nod. “What’s he like anyway? I mean, he’s in a couple of my AP classes, but I haven’t really talked to him that much. Although he’s always nice enough to me.”

“Really? You guys are in AP together?”

“Yeah. He seems like a pretty smart guy.” Okay, that’s a lie. The truth is, I’ve wondered how he got into the AP classes. Maybe he knows someone.

“Yeah, he is smart. And he’s fun too. Hey, maybe you could talk to him sometime for me, Reagan. Just casually, you know. Don’t let him know that I asked, but just find out why it hasn’t worked out with me.”

“Sure. I can do that.”

“You’re such a good friend.” She gives me a little sideways hug and we go back out into the noisy restaurant.

“I thought you guys totally took off,” says Sally when we rejoin them at the table. “Where were you?”

“Just in the ladies’ room,” says Kendra lightly.

“Was someone sick?” Sally looks suspiciously at me.

“No.” Kendra sounds impatient. “Just girl talk.”

Sally scowls now. “And you left me out?”

“Hey, it’s not like we planned some special meeting.” Kendra shakes her head. “Lighten up, Sally.” Then she nods over to where Jocelyn and Chad are playing a video game. “I thought you were on top of that.”

“A girl can only do so much.” Sally glares at me now. “Why’d you bring her here anyway?”

“Don’t be blaming Reagan for what you can’t do,” says Kendra in a sharp tone.

Sally slams her drink down on the table, stands up, and walks off. Kendra just shrugs like it’s no big deal, like Sally will get over it. But I’m thinking there is trouble in paradise. And this makes me happy.

“Do you want to go to the mall tomorrow?” she asks.

“Sure.”

“And we can pick up some party things for the barbecue.” “Sounds great.”

Of course, this reminds me that I haven’t made arrangements for Nana yet. I did ask Mom if it was okay to host the event at our house next Saturday, and after I convinced her that I would take care of absolutely everything — including Nana — she agreed. Now I just need to talk to Andrea. It’s so ironic that I actually have to ask this particular girl for a favor of this magnitude. I’m guessing there will be some groveling to do.

T
HE NEXT MORNING AFTER
I
TAKE CARE OF
N
ANA
, I
DECIDE TO WALK OVER TO
Andrea’s house. Somehow I think this might work better if I grovel in person. It’s after ten so I assume she’ll be up, but I still feel a little awkward as I knock on the door.

“Oh, hello, Reagan,” says Mrs. Lynch. “We haven’t seen you in ages. How are you anyway?”

“Oh, I’ve been pretty busy,” I tell her. “There’s been a lot to get used to with the new school and taking care of my grandmother and all.” I throw in that last bit hoping to buy some sympathy, just in case she’s not happy about the way I dumped her daughter as a friend a few weeks ago.

She nods. “Yes, I know. Andrea has told us about her. Is it Alzheimer’s?”

“I guess so. That’s what my mom thinks. She wants to put her in a nursing home. But I’m trying to help out so she can stay with us.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“Uh, is Andrea here?”

Mrs. Lynch laughs. “Of course. I guess you didn’t come over here to visit me, did you?”

“It’s nice visiting with you,” I say quickly, feeling like a little hypocrite.

“Come on in, make yourself at home. I’ll get her.”

So I sit on the big plaid sectional in the family room. The layout of this room is just like ours with the fireplace on one end and French doors to the right. Of course, our furniture is nicer. Theirs is pretty frumpy and worn. Andrea says it’s because of all her older brothers and sisters before her. She’s the youngest of five kids and the only one at home now.

“Hi, Reagan,” she says as she joins me in the family room. Her brow is creased in that way I used to warn her would make her wrinkle prematurely. Not that she ever seemed to care. “What’s up?”

I begin my rehearsed speech. “I just wanted to thank you for how you’ve been visiting and helping out with my grandma.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I think she’s fun.”

I smile but I’m thinking,
This is so pathetic
— a sixteen-year-old girl befriends a senile old woman and thinks it’s fun. I mean, sure,
I
think Nana is fun, but she’s
my
grandma. That’s totally different. “Well, she really likes you, Andrea. And because cheerleading practice doesn’t usually end until after four, well, it really helps break up her day when you stop by. I appreciate it too.”

Andrea nods. “Well, that’s nice of you to say. By the way, congratulations on making cheerleader. That was pretty amazing.”

“Thanks. It’s been kind of a challenge, you know.” Okay, really, how would she possibly know? Still, I’m trying to be nice here.

“I know,” she says. “I heard Kendra Farnsworth was pretty upset. But I’ve seen you two together. So I guess you must’ve patched things up. That’s nice.”

“Yeah. We’re friends.”

She gets an expression I can’t quite read now. But it’s sort of worry mixed with curiosity. Still, she doesn’t say anything.

“Anyway, I have a favor to ask. Well, actually more like a job.”

So I launch into the whole barbecue thing and how it would be extremely helpful to have someone looking after Nana, and she nods like she really does understand. And I start to feel hopeful.

“I’m sure that
would
be awkward, having
all
the cheerleaders at your house with your grandmother there.” Somehow, the way she says this gives me the impression she’s making fun of me, and I feel irritated. Yet, it’s not like I can say anything. Andrea has the upper hand in this.

“It’s just that I don’t think I can take care of Nana and host the party too,” I say. “You know?”

“Do you think she’d be okay over here? I mean, would it be confusing for her? Would she be disoriented?”

I consider this. Andrea is making a very good point. But I don’t want to be bothered with it. I just want this taken care of. I remind myself of how Mom can be when she wants something done and wants it done right. I want to be careful not to sound like that. “I don’t know,” I begin. “I mean, Nana really likes you, Andrea. You have totally won her over, which I think is really sweet of you. I actually feel bad that I wasn’t a better friend to you …”

“Really?”

I nod but tell myself to not go too far. To not get carried away. “Anyway, I think if Nana was with you, she’d be perfectly fine. And, don’t forget, I do plan to pay you. I already mentioned that, didn’t — ”

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want you to pay me. I’ll just do it — ”

“No, I insist. I wouldn’t feel right.”

“But I like Ruth,” she says. It’s weird hearing her use Nana’s first name. “I’d do it just to spend time with her.”

“Why?” I ask suddenly. I mean, I really am curious about this. Is Andrea really that desperate for companionship? Is she that pathetic?

She sort of shrugs, then looks down at the coffee table. As usual, there’s a big black leather Bible there. I think it’s her dad’s, but every time I was here last summer that Bible was always there. Sometimes it was open. Sometimes not. I asked if her family was religious and at first she said no, but then I discovered they went to church a lot, so I figured she was lying. Probably embarrassed.

“It’s kind of a long story,” she says. “But the short version is that I like spending time with Ruth because Jesus has put her on my heart. I think she needs me around.”

I blink and try not to look too stunned. “What do you mean she
needs
you?”

“Well, she’s lonely … and she’s old … and I think she needs me to show her a Jesus kind of love.” “A Jesus kind of love?”

“Yes.” Andrea looks up, straight at me now. “Everyone needs to see a Jesus kind of love — that’s like love in action.”

“Oh.”

“So, anyway, I’d be happy to have Ruth over here. But I don’t want you to pay me. I feel that would be wrong.”

Okay, I’m not particularly fond of this arrangement, but then who am I to argue here? I am desperate. I’ll agree to almost anything as long as she’ll do this for me. And I am so relieved that she wants to. Really, why should it bug me that she’s bringing Jesus into it? It’s not like I have feelings one way or the other when it comes to Jesus or God or religion. It’s her business, not mine.

“Well, that’s great, Andrea. I really appreciate it. I don’t even know how to thank you.”

She smiles. “Just consider it a gift from God.”

“Well, yeah. Okay, I guess.”

She sort of laughs. “I know you don’t really understand this, Reagan. I don’t even expect you to. But I have a feeling that God is at work in both you and your grandma. Now, what day is this barbecue?”

“Next Saturday.”

She looks worried now.
“Next
Saturday?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

“That’s the Wild Life retreat weekend.”

“What’s a wildlife retreat?” Okay, this sounds like something totally weird and I’m starting to wonder what kind of freak she is. Is it even a good idea to leave Nana in her care? Not that I have so many options.

“Wild Life is a youth ministry for middle-school kids. Maybe you’ve heard of Young Life?”

“They had Campus Life at my old high school,” I say, not mentioning that only geeks actually went to the meetings. “Is it like that?”

“I think so. Anyway, Wild Life is like the younger version of Young Life. And this is my first year of being a counselor and I’m just getting to know the kids, and I
have
to go on this retreat.”