If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle (158 page)

When I first started talking to him, I thought I’d realize how right he was for Gia, how much he loved Gia, and my stupid little crush would go away. Instead I liked Will Scott even more. Our first phone conversation happened strictly by accident. It wasn’t as if I’d meant to talk to him… not that there’s anything wrong with us talking. Gia knows we talk, though I don’t know if she knows how much. I know she doesn’t know that I prefer talking to him when she’s not around. Not that our conversations are illicit, but they’re definitely
not
intimate.

The first time it happened, he was calling Martin back. Martin had wanted to speak with him about something with his dad, but Martin wasn’t there. I answered the phone since after I’d arrived home from my impromptu trip to Chicago, I might as well have been under house arrest. Will asked me how things were going, and I complained, of course, that I was stir crazy. Other than school and my mandatory Sundays at church, I had little contact with the outside world. He told me to suck it up, that people had worse problems than being stuck in four-bedroom colonial with a maid named Marta. His playful, sarcastic attitude still intrigued me. He was different. He called me on my bullshit in a way that didn’t tick me off or seem as if he was talking down to me. Maybe it was because his voice sounded so good, warm, relaxing, and downright… sexy. I could listen to it for hours.

When I was having a bad day, our phone call was what I looked forward to snap me out of my funk, and on the days he didn’t call, I felt grumpier, like it couldn’t have been a perfect day no matter how well it went because a piece of it, one of the best parts, was missing. Now the best part of my day is sitting next to me, asking if I’m disappointed with him picking me up. How could I be?

Even though technically I should be. I haven’t seen my sister in months. I miss her, I really do, but I know when I see her, the twinge of guilt I feel for talking to her boyfriend—not talking to her boyfriend but
enjoying
her boyfriend a little too much—is going to crush me. I’d really, really hoped she would pick me up and I could tell her about it. I could figure out how to casually mention that I’ve developed a crush on her boyfriend and that it doesn’t really mean anything. It’s just kind of weird, and I need her help figuring it out. That’s what big sisters are for, right?

Except now I’m sitting next to him, and he’s asking a question that doesn’t seem like what I feel is all that innocent or little. I feel like talking to him so much didn’t do anything but make the situation worse. Our friendship is platonic—we’ve never flirted or talked about anything inappropriate—but looking back on everything and realizing that my feelings are stronger than the last time I was in his presence, maybe this is all inappropriate.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Will’s voice wakes me from my trance. He looks concerned, and I feel bad. I feel worse because he looks completely fine, not uncomfortable, anxious, or tense. That means he thinks we’re just friends, that I’m the cool little sister. He has no idea the internal battle I’m having right now, and of course I can’t let him find out. Why would he think there was anything wrong? Nothing is wrong. It’ll only be wrong if I let there be something wrong. I only have to feel guilty if there’s something to feel guilty about, and obviously there’s nothing.

“Nothing, I’m just starved,” I say dramatically.

His worried look instantly disappears, and the carefree aloofness I’ve grown way too fond off returns. “Good, we’re going to get something to eat.”

I feel my stomach flip. “We’re meeting Gia somewhere for dinner?” A part of me wants him to say yes, but a bigger part of me wants him to say
no
. The smart part of me thinks I’m being stupid and torturing myself.

“No, she won’t be off for another hour or two. We’ll grab her something to-go and take it to her job,” he says.

I simultaneously feel relieved and tense. “Italian?”

“Of course,” he says as if it’s obvious.

It is obvious. Italian is
our
favorite food.

We dine in a cute little Italian restaurant on the north side of Chicago according to Will. The lighting is dim but not so dim that you’d think it’s romantic even though the restaurant only seats about forty people max. It doesn’t have the best décor—it’s obvious this place is old—but the smell that greets you when you walk in makes it all too easy to overlook the deterioration. Garlic and butter, the smells of fresh bread and tomato sauce. He orders stuffed shells, and I order fettuccini Alfredo. Will has a beer, and I have a Coke with extra ice.

“So this is the place you’re always saying would give my lasagna a run for my money?” I say playfully.

“You’ll see,” he says jokingly.

“So Gia’s still been working late?” I already know the answer.

Gia’s interning at the office of a prominent lawyer near her house. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, she’d explained to me over the phone, giddy with excitement. When Will talked to me during her second week there, he’d seemed less than thrilled.

“I know it goes without saying that law school and being a lawyer are going to be hard and take a lot of time, but it’s still gonna suck majorly,” he says, his disdain apparent. He sighs. “It’s sort of my fault. My stepdad pulled strings to get her the freakin’ job.” He shakes his head. “I’m happy for her. I am. it’s just I thought this would give her an edge up on getting into law school, then I bumped into an old friend of my dad’s who’s a lawyer. He said interning at a law firm doesn’t really help you get into law school. It’s about the experience.”

I don’t tell him that I know he approached Gia about quitting, and I know they got into an argument and Gia thought he was being a selfish. I want to tell him Gia doesn’t quit anything and if anyone can turn a useless internship into something, it’s her, but I can’t tell him that because I don’t know if he’s supposed to know that we talked about their fight at all.

“Well, telling her to quit would make you a big jerk, so definitely don’t do that.” I take a bite of the garlic bread in front of me. It’s fantastic. I look up and see Will’s face flush.

“You know I’m a big jerk.” He chuckles, and I give him a reassuring smile.

“I’m sure Gia knows that by now.” I clear my throat with a sip of Coke.

He grins at me. “Enough about my problems. What’s going on with you and Zach?” He leans forward, giving me his full attention.

“You mean the guy you think is secretly in love with me?” I snicker.

“I don’t know why you think it’s so funny. He’s totally in love with you,” he says adamantly.

I roll my eyes at him. “Zach and I are just friends. We make out every so often, but he’s almost like a brother.”

“Except for the making out part,” he says sarcastically.

“Except for that,” I retort, and he grimaces. “Besides, aren’t people my age too young to fall in love? We don’t know what real love is, right?”

My eyes meet his, and I instantly regret it because they hold me and don’t let go, magical orbs that put a spell on me each time they lock on mine. His mouth slowly turns upward. His eyes smile at me before his lips do, and I fight to look away from him.

“Here you go, sweetheart. Stuffed shells.” The waitress has saved me. She gives Will a warm smile. She has coal-black hair with streaks of gray in a tight bun and a strong Italian accent. “And for the beautiful lady, chicken Alfredo. My favorite.”

I smile and thank her. As we eat, he tells me about how he feels sad when the school year ends and his students leave. I tell him about how graduation wasn’t as big a deal as I’d expected it to be. He counters, saying that he bet it felt good holding that diploma. I admit that it did.

The waitress with the black hair and warm smile returns and asks if we’d like to share a dessert.

“I’m up for it if you are,” he says.

Even though I feel stuffed, I can’t pass up the chance. We share a big bowl of gelato, and I feel a little more guilty when I compare this dinner to all the crappy dates I’ve been on. Because
this
isn’t a date, it shouldn’t feel like a date and shouldn’t be compared to one, but part of me does, and the stupid part of me is giddy. I’m reminded of how stupid that part is when Will orders Gia a spaghetti and meatballs with extra sauce, just how Gia likes it. I realize that in my fantasy, or if I were to have a fantasy, my date wouldn’t order his girlfriend a to-go plate. In the ideal fantasy, his girlfriend wouldn’t be my sister.

“Hey, little sis.” Gia nudges me awake.

I open my eyes and see her sitting beside me, beaming.

“Hi,” I say, sitting up and giving her a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” She squeezes me tightly.

“You can’t be more glad than I am.”

“I have something for you. It was for your graduation, and I was going to mail it, but I thought I’d just keep it to give it to you personally.” She hands me a small box wrapped in pink paper.

I restrain myself from ripping it open. I carefully untie the ribbon and delicately unwrap the gift, making sure to appreciate the beautiful paper. When I open the box, my eyes well up. “Gia…”

She doesn’t say anything but just keeps a small smile on her face. I notice the wetness in her eyes. I lift the silver heart necklace Dad gave her when she graduated.

“I can’t take this,” I say, and my voice breaks.

She only shakes her head, unclasps it, and lifts my hair so she can put it on me. “You will. I have so many gifts from Dad, and I know how hard it had to have been for you to not have him there. I know how much that would have meant to you.” She finishes hooking the clasp around my neck. “Funny story—when I graduated, I wanted a car. I just knew that Mom and Dad were looking at this little red dust beater, but to me, it wouldn’t have been a dust beater. It would have meant the world.” She clears her throat. “On graduation day, Dad handed me that box. I thought—I willed it even—to be a key. A key to the car I had been dropping hints about, that I’d convinced myself they were going to get me.”

I nod, vaguely remembering that day. I remember her acting happy, showing off the necklace to me that night at dinner.

“When he gave it to me, I was sooo disappointed. You wouldn’t believe how much. I even let it slip.” Her voice breaks, and tears flow down her cheeks. “I’ll never forget the look on his face. Mom… you know how she is… she looked angry, like how dare I not appreciate what I was given. But Dad, Dad looked hurt.” She sniffs. “I realized then that I was being a brat and if they could have gotten me the car, they would have.”

I hold her hand, and she takes a deep breath.

“I would give anything to go back and change what I said. If I had known that was the last gift he would ever give me, give either of us…”

I hug her. “You didn’t know, Gia. Dad got it. You know how he was. He knew you didn’t mean it.”

“I know, I know, but I just… I want you to have it. I know how much it would mean to you,” she says, pulling herself together.

I touch the locket and hold onto it. “I’ll wear it, not forever though. It’s yours.”

She waves me off. “I’ll let you know when I want it back.”

I get up, and she shows me the small sun porch she’s decorated to look more like a bedroom. It’s half the size of my old room—not my room at Martin’s house but my room in our house with Dad, which was half the size of the house Mom has now—but it’s perfect with a twin bed, purple linens, and Madonna posters everywhere. She helps me put away my clothes, and we talk and eat candy for the rest of the night.