Megan Meade's Guide to the McGowan Boys (21 page)

“Okay . . . what?” Megan asked, almost afraid to sit down.

Miller broke into a wide grin and finally Megan saw it. Every last one of her friends' trays had been arranged just the way Miller always arranged his own. Everything was in height order from left to right.

Megan placed her tray down on the table, grinning.

“Hi, Miller,” Aimee said brightly as he sat down next to her, across from Megan.

“Hello, Aimee,” Miller said, blushing as he started to arrange his tray.

“Anyone sitting here?” Megan looked up to find Finn sliding into the chair next to Miller's. He was wearing a bright blue T-shirt that turned his eyes a color previously absent from nature. They were gorgeous.

“Hey,” Megan said.

“Hey.”

His smile reminded her of the other night, behind the house, when they had walked her bike to the garage. Megan wasn't sure why it brought that moment back, but it made her heart stir. This was interesting.

“Ladies,” Finn said, nodding at the rest of the table.

“Gentleman,” Ria replied teasingly.

“What's up, Miller?” Finn asked.

“That doesn't go,” Miller said, looking at Finn's tray.

“Oh, sorry,” Finn replied, quickly rearranging his things.

“Jeez, Finn, we're all down with the technique. What's wrong with you?” Megan joked.

“I know. I don't know what got into me,” Finn said lightly. “Better?” he asked Miller.

“Yeah. This is Aimee,” Miller replied, lifting a thumb in Aimee's direction. “She's my new friend.”

Aimee was so surprised she actually opened her mouth into an O. “Hi,” she said to Finn, though they already knew each other well.

“Hi,” Finn replied. “I didn't know you had a new friend, Miller; that's great.”

“Megan's my new friend too,” Miller said.

Finn looked at Megan, practically beaming. “Yeah, I know. That's pretty clear.”

Megan was suddenly very interested in her salad. She felt like everyone at the table was watching her and she didn't look up again until they had all started to eat. The second she did, Ria caught her eye and shot her an impressed glance.

“What?” Megan mouthed, knitting her brows.

Ria made a face and looked in Finn's direction. Everything in her expression implied that she thought Finn was here for Megan. That Finn was here because he
liked
Megan.

Megan rolled her eyes, shook her head no, and looked down at her tray again to cut Ria off from expressing anything further. Holding her breath, she cast a look toward Finn and he glanced quickly away. He had been watching her.

Megan's heart raced and she took a long sip of her soda. Ria was insane. Finn did not like her. Finn liked girls like Kayla Bird. That might not have worked out, but Kayla was clearly his type and clearly nothing like Megan. No. Ria was wrong. She just had to be.

 *  *  *

That afternoon, after her shower, Megan decided she was going to go out back to the shed and hang with Finn. Hanging with him would be the only way to cure herself of the obsessing she had been doing all day. Ever since Ria had implied Finn liked her—an implication she had backed up with actual words at practice—Finn was all Megan could think about. Did he like her? Did she like him? What if she did like him? What then?

By the time she had brushed out her hair, she had driven herself to the brink of insanity, all because Ria had planted this seed in her head. Yesterday she hadn't been thinking about Finn at all.
Well, not really. She had to hang out with him and remind herself of what their relationship really was. They were friends. Finn didn't see her as anything more than that.

Having resolved to nip this obsession thing in the bud before it got out of hand, Megan twisted her damp hair into a braid down her back and pushed open the back door of the house. Instantly all her determination rushed right out of her. Standing in the center of the yard, deep in conversation, were two people Megan had less than zero desire to see just then—Evan and Hailey.

Megan couldn't believe it. How could these two be talking? How was it possible that he could forgive Hailey for sleeping with Doug but not forgive Megan for things she hadn't even done? They both looked up and greeted her with cold, hard stares.

“I'm going inside,” Hailey said, breaking away from Evan.

Megan stared her down as she walked right toward her, but Hailey never once looked at her. Evan started after his so-called love, glaring at Megan on the way. There was so much disgust in his eyes it made her insides curl up. That was it. She couldn't take it anymore.

“Can't look me in the face, can you, Hailey?” Megan said, turning around. “Not that I blame you after all the lying.”

Hailey paused at the door, but Evan whirled on Megan, his eyes flashing.

“Why don't you just leave her alone?” he said.

“You're even worse than she is, you know that?” Megan said. “At least she had a reason for what she did. I never lied to you once, but you just decided not to believe me. You're so totally snowed.”

“Oh, please!” Hailey said.

“That's your big argument? ‘Oh, please'?” Megan said, turning to Hailey. “Are you really going to stand there and act like we both don't know what really happened? Are you really going to lie about me to my face? You're amazing, you know that?”

Hailey glared at Megan for only a split second before she looked down at the ground.

“Ask her,” Megan directed Evan. “Ask her right now if I ever found her at that party and told her that you and I hooked up. Ask her. I want to see how big of a liar she really is.”

Evan stared at Megan for a long moment, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

Megan felt like a dose of bile had been injected directly into her heart. “I can't believe I ever wasted even a second of my life thinking about you.”

Pushing past Hailey, Megan walked back into the house and up to her room. Her frustration was so overwhelming she felt like it was going to burst out of her veins. She grabbed her phone and dialed Tracy's number. Tracy was the only person on the planet she could talk to about this.

“Megan?” Tracy answered, surprised.

“Trace, guess what? This guy immersion program is really working,” Megan said, pacing her room. She paused and looked out the window. Evan was sitting on the hammock now, head in his hands. “And you know what I'm learning?”

“Uh-oh. What?” Tracy asked.

“I'm learning that guys are totally not worth it.”

 *  *  *

Find a happy place, Megan. Just find a happy place . . .

Lemon, Megan's personal skin technician, slathered another layer of smelly, rank goop on Megan's face, working it into her skin with her fingertips. There seemed to be broken glass shards in the mixture. And pebbles. Whatever it was, it was grating on not only her epidermis but her last nerve.

How was this de-stressing? Megan was still tense over yesterday's confrontation with Evan and Hailey—so tense that all she had been able to think about since was getting some exercise and working it out of her system. Now she was not only being forced to sit still, but this Lemon woman was scraping her skin off.

“Relax, Megan. You're here to let yourself go,” Lemon said in her airy voice, swiping her hands up to Megan's temples. Lemon's spiked hair was roughly the same color as her namesake fruit and she had a red stud in her nose that glittered every time she moved her head.

“What makes you think I'm not?”

“Well, for one, your foot has been tapping nonstop ever since you sat down,” Lemon said with a bright smile. “And you haven't been able to keep your eyes closed for longer than three seconds at a time.”

“So? Maybe this is me relaxed.”

“Oh, sweetie. I hope not,” Lemon said with a sympathetic frown. She looked down at an area of Megan's body that Megan couldn't see with her head tipped all the way back and grimaced.

“What?” Megan snapped.

“Unclench your hands, sweetie,” Lemon said.

Megan loosened her fists. She hadn't even realized she was
clenching them, but the moment she let go, there was a searing pain in her palms.

“Oh. Look what you've done to yourself,” Lemon said, clucking her tongue as she lifted Megan's wrist.

Megan yanked her arm away and brought both hands up in front of her eyes. There were four perfect and red half-moon marks in each of her palms, left there by her fingernails.

A symphony of cowbells played on an endless loop somewhere overhead. Megan tried to focus on the melody. Maybe if she heard it repeat five times, it would be almost time to leave.

“Now, just breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth,” Lemon instructed, moving her hands up and down in front of her. “In through your nose . . . out through your mouth.”

Megan did as she was told. In, out. In, out. In, out.

“Slowly, sweetie! Slowly,” Lemon said. “You're not running a marathon here.”

Ooh . . . running a marathon.
There's
a happy place,
Megan thought.

She envisioned her feet pounding against packed dirt, her own speed blowing back her hair, the burning in her lungs as she pushed herself harder and harder. In her mind's eye, Megan saw Hailey and Evan running up ahead. She saw herself pass them. Saw the look of shock on Hailey's face. Saw Evan's admiration as it finally dawned on him how much better Megan was than Hailey. He tried to ditch Hailey and catch up with Megan, but Megan left him eating dust.

“See? You're smiling,” Lemon said.

“Yeah. Are we done yet?” Megan asked.

There was no way she was ever going to exorcise the Evan and Hailey demons sitting in a plush chair with goop on her face. She needed to get to soccer practice and work out some of this energy. She had to get out of here, stat.

“Well, I'm supposed to leave it on for three more minutes, but if you feel rejuvenated, then I've done my job,” Lemon said. “Do you feel rejuvenated?”

“You have no idea,” Megan said.

“Okay, then. Let's rinse off,” Lemon said happily.

Finally,
Megan thought as she leaned her head back into the sink.
Finally this heinous spa experience is over.

Lemon rinsed Megan with warm water and handed her a plush towel. Nothing had ever felt so good against Megan's skin. Maybe she was a little bit rejuvenated. Or maybe it was just the thought of getting outside that was making her face tingle.

“Thanks,” Megan said to Lemon as she walked out of the facial room and headed back toward the locker area, where she and Regina had exchanged their clothes for spa-issue robes. She could practically feel the cleats on her freshly pedicured feet. Practice would still be going on for another hour and a half. Plenty of time for Megan to take out her aggression.

“Hi!” Regina greeted her with a psyched smile in the middle of the locker room. “All ready for our massage?”

Megan's happy train screeched to a halt. “Our what?” she asked.

“Our massage!” Regina said, standing. “The grand finale of our spa day. I booked a room for both of us.”

Suddenly Megan's eyes stung with unshed tears. She had been so close to freedom.

“We're looking for Megan and Regina?” a tall, muscular man said, peeking his head into the room. He had a 1970s wave in his hair and the kind of chiseled good looks Megan only saw on the cover of romance novels.

“Right here,” Regina said. “This is going to feel so good,” she whispered to Megan as they followed the man out into the hall. “I bet after all that soccer playing, you could use a good rubdown.”

Megan swallowed hard as the man opened the door to a smaller room. He was soon joined by another guy, practically his twin in the size department but African American and totally hot. Megan stood at the back of the small room, staring at the two tables that were draped with white sheets.

Please tell me that these guys aren't going to give us these . . . rubdowns,
Megan thought, starting to hyperventilate ever so slightly.

The first guy made the introductions. “I'm Corey and this is Ben. We'll be giving your massages today.”

The room was intensely hot. Still, Megan found herself clamping the neck of her robe closed as her vision blurred in front of her.

“Anyone have any problem spots you'd like to tell us about?” Ben asked.

Was it just Megan, or was he kind of giving her the eye?

“Problem spots?” she squeaked.

“You know, knots or twinges. Any spots that need special attention,” Ben explained.

“Oh . . . no,” Megan replied.

“I'm fine,” Regina added.

“Okay, then. We'll step out while you disrobe and—”

“Dis
what
?” Megan blurted.

“Disrobe,” Corey replied.

“You mean take off my
clothes
? In front of
you
?” Megan cried, holding the robe even tighter and backing up a couple of steps.

“No, we'll step out of the room for a moment,” he said slowly.

“And when you come back, I'll be naked.”

“You can leave your underwear and bra on if it makes you more comfortable. That's your prerogative.”

“My underwear and
bra
? Are you kidding me?” Megan screeched.

“Megan, relax,” Regina said, looking alarmed.

“I
am
relaxed!” Megan replied. She edged along the wall toward the door, still clutching the lapels of her robe together. “At least I would be relaxed if I was at soccer practice right now like I was supposed to be! That's how I unwind—by running and sweating and kicking the ball around. Not by disrobing and having strangers give me
rubdowns
!”

“Megan, I—”

“No, Regina, I'm really sorry, but I can't stay here,” Megan rambled. “I know this is your idea of a good time and I know you really want me to be, like, the daughter you never had or whatever, but I don't wear makeup and I really don't like pink and the face wash . . . well . . . actually, I like the face
wash, but this? To tell you the truth, this is my worst nightmare. I have to go.”