Keep Me in Your Heart (15 page)

Trisha ignored Christina’s logic. “The point
is, Cody
trusts
me. After all the years you’ve been with Tucker, he should trust you too.”

Christina looked dejected. “That’s what I told him, but he’s still angry.”

“Then that’s his problem, not yours. He needs to get over it, cut you some slack.”

“There are other things too.” Christina fished in her purse for lip gloss. “I’ve been accepted at the University of Vermont—”

“But that’s wonderful,” Trisha interrupted.

Christina smiled for the first time. “Mom and Dad think so too, especially since it came with a ten-thousand-dollar scholarship.”

Trisha was speechless. She’d always known Christina was smart, but this really proved it.

“It’s Dad’s alma mater, so he really wants me to go there,” Christina added.

“So why wouldn’t you?”

“Tucker hates the idea. He can’t accept that I would go so far from Indiana, or him. He’s really bummed out about it. He wants me to go someplace in-state, like IU.”

Indiana University at Indianapolis was a good hundred and fifty miles from Mooresville, a midsized town in the middle of nowhere. Trisha had moved to Mooresville with her
parents and kid brother five years before when her father, an insurance agent, had taken over the job of area manager for his company. To Trisha, after having lived in a sprawling suburb of Chicago all her life, Mooresville had seemed like the most boring place on earth. When Christina had befriended her in seventh grade, that had made all the difference. Then, when they’d both started at the high school, Trisha met Cody, and having him for a boyfriend for two years had turned Mooresville into the center of the universe.

“How can Tucker expect you to change your plans—your future—for him? Why doesn’t he change his plans for you?” Trisha asked.

Christina shook her head. “He has to start at the community college because his grades are poor—if he decides to go to college at all. I know you and Cody are planning to go to IU together, so don’t pretend you’re making any sacrifice for each other in that respect.”

“Point taken,” Trisha said. “We do plan on going off to IU together, but first we both have to be accepted.” She and Cody had applied, but acceptance letters wouldn’t be sent out until early spring. “But I’m telling you, if I had
a valid scholarship offer, I’d take it. Tucker should be happy for you.”

Trisha stared at Christina’s reflection and her own while Christina put on powder. Christina was blond, with a pretty heart-shaped face and clear blue eyes. Trisha’s plain dark hair—which she was letting grow long and which now was lank and scraggly—and brown eyes looked drab next to her friend. But Christina wasn’t conceited about her looks; she was genuinely congenial and friendly. People liked Christina because Christina liked people.

“We’ve missed fifth period,” Christina said with a sigh. “You shouldn’t have skipped on my account. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

Trisha shrugged. “I skipped world lit, big deal. I’ve read the chapter already, and you know Mr. Childess can put a dead person to sleep.”

Christina raked a comb through her hair. “You’re the one I’m going to miss the most if I go away to Vermont, not Tucker.”

Trisha put her hand on Christina’s arm before they stepped into the hall. “Don’t let Tucker make you do something you don’t want to do. If
he really loves you, he’ll give you some room to do what you want, go where you want.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“Hey, no need to insult me.”

They both laughed. Trisha
had
offered a standard refrain, one worthy of any adult. The truth was, she knew she was right. Tucker Hanson was trouble. He always had been and he always would be. How could Christina be so blind that she couldn’t see that?

“Ah, Tuck’s not so bad,” Cody said as he shut his locker in the crowded halls after school.

While they’d walked from her locker to his, Trisha had told him about her conversation in the bathroom with Christina. “He tries to control her, and she won’t stand up to him,” Trisha grumbled now, not pleased with Cody’s assessment of Tucker. “I think that’s pretty bad.”

Cody grinned down at her. “Like how you tell me to meet you at the library at seven and don’t be late or else?”

“That’s different and you know it. I’m talking about the way he blows up if she goes against his wishes. The very idea of telling her where to go to college. Or who she can have coffee with. You don’t treat me like that.”

“So he’s a little jealous. We guys get that way when somebody makes a move on our girl.”

“A move! We’re talking Billy Lawler here. The guy’s no more a threat to Tucker than I am to Miss America.”

Cody put his arm around Trisha’s shoulders. “I’m sure Lawler thought he’d died and gone to heaven when the lovely Christina graced him with her presence, so you’re right—Tuck has no reason to worry. But it’s just his way.”

“Don’t defend him.” Trisha pulled on her gloves before they walked out into the snow-covered parking lot.

Cody jammed his hand into her coat pocket and pulled her closer. “They’ve been acting that way for years. I can’t see it changing.”

“But why? Christina’s smart. Why does she let him treat her like she’s stupid?”

“They love each other,” Cody said with a shrug. “Just like I love you.” He nuzzled her neck as they walked to his car.

“But you treat me right. That’s the difference.”

“I do, do I? I can change that.” He took the lapels of her coat in both hands and pulled her against his chest. His eyes danced mischievously. “Into the car, girl,” he growled.

She arched one eyebrow. “You going to make me?”

“I’m bigger than you. And uglier, so watch your step.”

“Don’t make me wrestle you and humiliate you in front of the school,” she said, pulling herself up to her full height of five feet, three inches.

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Wrestle me. Please.”

A horn honked two rows over and a male voice shouted, “I said, get in the car right now!”

Startled, Trisha and Cody looked over to see Tucker driving beside a walking Christina, who was pointedly ignoring him.

Tucker called Christina some names and demanded she do what he said. Christina stopped, and so did Tucker’s car.

“You want a ride, Chrissy?” Trisha yelled. “Cody and I can take you home.”

“Sure,” Cody said. “Come on.”

“I’m taking her home,” Tucker said. “We have to talk, don’t we, honey?”

Christina turned toward them, and Trisha saw the tracks of tears on her cheeks.
“Don’t get in the car,”
Trisha said under her breath.
“Don’t go with him.”

“Thanks,” Christina said to Trisha and Cody after an agonizing minute. “But I’ll go with Tucker. It’s all right.”

Christina opened the car door, and Trisha’s heart sank. “I’ll call you just as soon as I get home,” she called out as Tucker gunned the engine.

Christina hadn’t even gotten the door shut before Tucker sped out of the parking lot, tires spinning on the slick, blackened snow. “Jerk,” Trisha said, watching him turn the corner without even stopping at the Yield sign.

Cody slipped his arm around her again. “Let’s go.”

Tears filled Trisha’s eyes. “She didn’t have to go with him, you know.”

“I know.” Cody opened his car door and helped Trisha inside. “I’ll talk to him, okay? Maybe he’ll listen. He’s not really a bad guy.” He got in, turned over the engine, and turned up the heater. “He’s scared of losing her. If she goes away, he’s afraid she won’t come back.”

“I hope she doesn’t,” Trisha said, drying her eyes and simmering with anger. “I hope she leaves him flat.”

Two
 

T
risha banged into her house and was partway up the stairs to her room when her mother intercepted her. “Slow down. I need you to do me a favor.”

“I have to call Chrissy.”

“Wasn’t she at school today?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then it will keep. Charlie has to be at basketball practice in fifteen minutes, and you have to take him.”

“Aw, Mom … hanging around the gym for an hour waiting for him to finish practice is the pits.”

Her mother gave her a level look. “You don’t
say? This from the girl who swore that she’d be my virtual slave if I allowed her to get her license last October.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts. Do it.”

Just then, twelve-year-old Charlie came around the corner from the kitchen, bouncing his basketball and eating an apple.

“Kill the ball,” their mother said.

Charlie grabbed the ball in mid-dribble. “She taking me? She drives like an old lady. I’ll be late and Coach makes us do laps if we’re late.”

“So hitchhike,” Trisha snapped.

“Stop arguing,” their mother said. “Just go.”

“If Chrissy calls—”

“I’ll tell her you’ll call her back,” her mother said.

Trisha marched out the front door, trailing Charlie and grumbling all the way.

The gym smelled like sweaty socks, and the noise level was giving Trisha a headache. She sat in the upper bleachers trying to concentrate on an assignment and ignore the drill work of her kid brother’s team below. It was a losing battle.

“How’re you doing?”

Startled, Trisha looked up and saw Tucker standing on the bleacher two rows above her. “Can I join you?”

She had forgotten that his brother, Jeremy, played on the same middle school team as Charlie. “It’s a free country,” she told him.

“Where’s Cody?” Tucker asked, sitting on the bench above hers.

“At his job at the new Home Depot.”

“I forgot he kept working after Christmas break.”

“He says the money’s good and since football season’s over, he’s got the extra time.” She fidgeted because she didn’t have much to say to Tucker. “How’s Chrissy?” she finally asked.

“Mad at me.”

“Go figure.”

Tucker smiled sheepishly. “All right … so I lost my cool today.”

Trisha didn’t say anything.

“You don’t like me very much, do you?”

No
, she thought, but said, “Maybe I just don’t like the way you treat Chrissy.”

Tucker leaned back on his elbows, studying her. “I really love her, you know. Tell her that for me.”

“Why should I?”

“Because she listens to you.”

“Not really.” Trisha knew that if Christina really listened to her, she’d dump Tucker.

“Would you also tell her not to go off to Vermont?” He sounded solicitous, as if he really wanted the favor.

“It’s a great opportunity, Tucker. The scholarship is awesome.”

“If she stays, we can be together,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken. “I don’t want her to go.”

“It’s a long time until September. She deserves her chance. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

“No. She’s all I ever wanted.”

Trisha knew there were kids who’d think Tucker’s statement was romantic. She did not. She thought he just wanted to have his way. “Then treat her like it,” she suggested. “Yelling at her, telling her how to act and who she can see isn’t winning her over, you know?”

For a moment, a dark glower crossed his face. The look passed, and he stood. “You girlfriends really stick together, don’t you? I’m the best thing that ever happened to Chrissy. She’ll never find a guy who cares about her the way I do.”

He started down the bleachers toward the floor, clattering all the way and making everybody else in the gym glance over. Trisha watched, silently fuming over his arrogance. They were certainly worlds apart when it came to the definition of love. She thought of love as a gift one person gave freely to another. Tucker Hanson figured it was something a person used like a rope to tie another down. And worse, it made Trisha want to scream that he had captured the heart of Christina, her best friend.

On Saturday, Christina talked Trisha into going with her to the county nursing home where she was a volunteer. Trisha wasn’t crazy about the place—some of the elderly people looked so frail that it broke her heart, but Christina always said, “It makes me feel like I’m doing something useful. And it makes me feel like Grandpa’s watching from heaven and happy about me helping others.” Christina’s grandfather had lived with her family until it had become too difficult to care for him. They’d transferred him to an assisted living facility, where he’d died two years before.

As they walked inside the old building, Christina said, “Thanks a bunch, Trisha. The staff is shorthanded because of the flu bug.”

“What are friends for?” Trisha said, dismayed by the very atmosphere of the place. The air smelled of disinfectant and medicine. The floors were clean but carpetless, the walls an institutional shade of pale green. Trisha stepped around an old lady in a wheelchair. The woman was asleep, tied to the chair so that she wouldn’t fall out. Trisha and Christina checked in at the front desk, then again at the nurses’ station.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” said Mrs. Kimble, the head floor nurse.

“You remember my friend Trisha. She’s helping out today.”

Mrs. Kimble’s big smile lit her coffee-colored face. “Good to see you. And nice of you to lend a hand.” She picked up a chart. “Chrissy, can you feed Mr. Tappin in room six? He just can’t go down to the cafeteria anymore.” Mrs. Kimble looked at Trisha. “Can I get you to take the patients on this list down to the exercise room? They’re all in wheelchairs, but they can’t take themselves.”