Megan Meade's Guide to the McGowan Boys (26 page)

BOOK: Megan Meade's Guide to the McGowan Boys
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Of course, now that the time was approaching, it was obvious that Megan was never going to get out of the house without everyone knowing it. They were all home, going about their normal lives. Megan struggling out of her room with her bags and her laptop was going to turn some heads.

I'll just deal with it. I'll just deal with whatever happens,
Megan thought, pushing herself up. She paced the room, knocking her fist against her palm. She felt like she was stuck in that anxious moment before getting up in front of class to do an oral report—times a hundred. Every second Megan wanted to walk out of the room, find Finn or Evan or Doug or even Miller and tell them exactly what she thought of them. This could, after all, be her last chance. But what would be the point?

Megan glanced out the back window and saw Evan swinging listlessly on the hammock, staring up at the sky with one arm crooked behind his head. From his wistful expression she had a feeling he was thinking about Hailey. Megan suddenly felt like smacking him. Two weeks ago, whenever she saw Evan, she'd seen a kind, deep, gorgeous guy with an amazing soul. Now all she saw was a big baby.

Evan knew the truth now. It was all over the school. He knew that Hailey was the one who had lied. But had he apologized to Megan? No. Had he made up with Doug? No. It was like he just
wanted
to be the big, sorry victim.

Standing there, staring down at him, Megan realized that there
was
a point in talking to Evan. Maybe she could return him to a semblance of the guy she had thought she knew. Maybe she could wake him the heck up.

Suddenly determined, Megan raced downstairs and out to
the backyard. The sun was just starting to go down, muting everything around her.

“I need to talk to you,” she said as Evan sat up. She turned toward the house. “Hey, Doug! I found one of your old
Playboy
s! If you want it back, I'm outside!”

Evan shoved his way out of the hammock and started past her. “I'm not talking to him.”

“Yes, you are,” Megan replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don't you think you owe me one conversation?”

Evan could barely look at her. “Yeah, maybe you,” he admitted finally. “But not him.”

Doug came barreling out the back door. The moment he saw Megan and Evan and no
Playboy
, he turned and started back inside.

“I wanted to tell you both that I'm leaving for Korea,” Megan announced. “In about half an hour.”

Evan's jaw dropped and Doug froze in his tracks. He turned around slowly and plastered a smile on his face. “Finally,” he said.

“Yeah, well, before I go, there's something I want to say to you guys,” Megan said.

“Famous last words?” Doug asked sarcastically.

But he sat on the edge of a patio chair, his legs wide, and looked up at her expectantly. Evan didn't move either. Megan took a deep breath. She only had one chance to get this right.

“Ever since I was a little kid, I've wanted a brother or a sister,” Megan began, looking back and forth between them. “I always thought it would be so great. I'd have someone to share everything with, someone who would always be there, someone who I'd care about and watch out for, who'd care about and watch out
for me. But after watching the way you guys have treated each other the past couple of weeks, I don't know anymore.”

Evan looked at the ground and Doug rolled his eyes, but Megan didn't stop.

“To let someone like Hailey Farmer . . . something as stupid as meaningless drunken sex come between you guys . . . it's just insane,” Megan said. “The girl lied to both of you. She
played
both of you. You guys are brothers. That's a forever thing. And what kills me . . . what really kills me is that you have no idea how lucky that makes you.”

Megan looked up. Doug's expression had changed. He and Evan were now both staring at her with hard eyes, as if they were trying very hard to keep what they were really feeling and thinking inside. For the first time Megan was struck by how similar these two seemingly different guys really were. Same stubbornness, same ignorance, and, apparently, same taste in women.

“The truth is, I feel sorry for you guys. I really do,” Megan said. “You're all so busy looking out for number one that you don't realize how much you're hurting the people around you. People that really love you. Or could, if you gave them the chance,” Megan finished, looking at Evan. She held his gaze until her face burned with the effort and he finally blinked.

Megan turned to Doug. “So don't think that it was your stellar freeze-out that got me to leave, 'cuz it wasn't,” she added. “I just can't stand to be around people who take so much for granted.”

Aside from the birds in the trees chirping their good-night songs, the backyard was totally silent. Megan had said her piece, and having been that honest, she felt exhilarated. She felt capable
of anything. Now, all of a sudden, she had an overwhelming urge to talk to Finn. She turned and, out of habit, walked over to the shed, not even thinking about the fact that he had been banned from his home-away-from-home. One push opened the door and Megan's entire world came to a screeching stop.

Standing on the easel directly across from her was her own image. Finn's painting of her. Completed to the last eyelash. It took her breath away.

Slowly Megan approached the painting. It was unlike anything else Finn had ever painted. He hadn't painted her profile or her shoulder or her hands or her ear. It was the only painting in the room that was a full, face-forward portrait, and it was amazing how much it looked like her. Only softer somehow. Prettier. More open. Her lips were pulled up on one side in a sort of knowing smile. Her skin practically glowed, and the smattering of freckles across her nose actually looked sweet to her. But it was the eyes that killed her. They swirled with at least five shades of green and had delicate gold flecks painted subtly through them. Was this what she really looked like to Finn? Did he really think she was this . . . beautiful?

Megan reached out and touched the edge of the canvas. The paint was completely dry.

When had he had time to finish this? She remembered suddenly that he had been grounded for the past few days. He must have been sneaking out here all week to work on it. And he had finished it. He had actually finished a painting. Of her.

A horn honked in the driveway. Megan's car was here. Early. Ready to whisk her away.

Just go!
she told herself, trying to rally the inner troops.
Get the hell out of here already.

Megan turned her back on her own eyes and ran inside to get her things. This place was more than she could handle. Too confusing, too overwhelming, too much. It was time to go back to a boy-free world.

 *  *  *

“Attention, passengers on flight 233, nonstop service to Los Angeles,” the gate worker announced. “We are now boarding passengers in rows fifteen to twenty-five. Fifteen to twenty-five, please have your boarding passes ready.”

Megan took a deep breath and looked out across the dozens of people gathering their carry-on bags and wrangling their kids. Beyond the seating area for her gate was the concourse that led to the main lobby of the terminal. Megan had been staring in that direction for an hour, much to her own chagrin, thinking she might see a familiar face. That someone, anyone, might come to say a final goodbye. But apparently life didn't imitate movies. In less than twenty minutes she was going to be in the air. Pretty soon, there would be no turning back.

Pulling her backpack straps onto her shoulders, Megan stood up and headed for the long line that snaked away from the gate.

You don't want to turn back,
she told herself, squaring her shoulders. It just seemed so wrong that she hadn't gotten to say goodbye to Finn. He had been her best friend at the McGowan house. Her confidant. Her first kiss. She couldn't believe that she was actually getting on a plane to Korea without talking to him one last time.

“Hey! Megan! Wait up!”

Megan's heart leaped out of her chest as she whirled around. There he was, running toward her through the crowd, shoving people aside to get to her. Never in her life had she been so happy to see . . .

Doug.

“Where the hell do you think you're going, yo?”

He doubled over in front of her, sweat streaming down from his temples as he gasped for breath. Megan checked behind him but didn't see anyone else in his trail.

What the . . . ?

“Are you alone?” she asked.

“I gotta sit,” Doug said, wheezing.

He backed up clumsily and fell into the nearest vacant chair. Megan stepped out of line and followed him uncertainly. She looked around the terminal, half expecting to find a hidden camera somewhere. This had to be a joke.
Doug
was chasing her down?

“What are you doing here?” Megan asked, narrowing her eyes. “And how did you get through security?”

“I had ta buy a ticket, you belee d'at?” he said, pulling out a little American Airlines folder. “I can go to Chicago now if I want.”

Megan sat on the edge of the chair next to his. “Doug, seriously. I have to get on this plane.”

“Hey, you wanna bounce, that's your business,” Doug said, shoving the crumpled ticket into the back pocket of his jeans. “But hear me out first.”

Megan sighed and leaned back. “Okay. You have five minutes.”

“All right, look,” Doug said. “After you left, me and Evan,
we talked for the first time since all this crap went down and I can't speak for him, ya know? But me? I realized I been kind of a jerk lately.”

“Oh, you realized that, huh?” Megan said.

“Let me finish, woman!” Doug said.

Megan suddenly realized what an effort it was taking for him to talk to her at all, so she pressed her lips together and waited.

“I was just pissed at you from jump 'cuz you snaked my room. But I thought on it and I figured out why you irritate me so much,” Doug said.

Megan raised her eyebrows. “Why's that?”

“Well, 'cuz you came in there and you did all this stuff, you know? Like stuff no one else can do,” Doug said. For the first time since she'd met him, Doug was looking at her and his guard was down. He wasn't making a sneer or putting on a tough front—he was just there, talking to her. “Like you got Miller talking about stuff that's not baseball. And Ian and Caleb are actually afraid of you. And Sean, like, occasionally comes out of the garage now. And my mom? She's a different person since you been there. She's, y'know, calmer or something.”

“Really?”

“It's like just having another female around has chilled her out or something, seriously. She's only whacked me upside the head like once since you got here,” Doug said.

Megan couldn't help grinning.

“Plus what you did for me . . .” Doug said. “That was pretty cool too. I still don't know why you did it.”

“Soft spot for lost causes?” Megan said with a shrug.

“Well, whatever,” Doug said. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome,” Megan said. It was only one word, but she had a feeling he actually meant it.

“So, look, you can't leave,” Doug said, sitting up straight and turning toward her. “If you do, Miller's gonna revert and Caleb and Ian are gonna ride roughshod and Sean'll go back to being Ghost Brother and Finn . . .”

Megan's heart slipped. “Finn what?”

“Finn will be destroyed,” Doug said, looking her in the eye. “You got that dude all up in a twist, you know that, right?”

“What does that even mean?” Megan asked.

“All's I know is, he found out you left and he locked himself in the shed and barricaded the door. No one's seen him since,” Doug said. “When I bolted, Sean and Evan were trying to boost Caleb up onto the roof so he could look through the skylight and make sure the kid wasn't dead or something.”

Megan swallowed hard. “Wow.”

For a few minutes Doug and Megan sat in their plastic chairs, watching as the line at the gate grew smaller and smaller. Megan slowly turned everything over in her mind. Was it really possible that she had changed the McGowans' lives like Doug had said? She had thought that her presence had only disrupted things, but now it seemed like in some ways, she had actually made things better.

“We always thought it was cool that my mom only had boys, you know?” Doug said, for once dropping his gangsta accent. “Who knew that we actually
needed
a sister?”

Megan looked down at her hands.

“Oh, man! Are you gonna go all blubbery on my ass?” Doug asked.

Megan laughed. “No.”

“So are you comin' back with me or what?”

Megan lifted her head and sighed. “I have a few conditions.”

“Shoulda known,” Doug said, rolling his eyes.

“First of all, I did not sign up for a truck stop bathroom,” Megan said. “You guys need to start cleaning up after yourselves in there. No more blood, no more hair, no more random stains that I don't even want identified.”

“All right, all right,” Doug said. “That it?”

“Hardly,” Megan said. “I want a hands-off rule on all my stuff.
Including
my bike.”

“Okay . . .”

“And I want everyone to stop calling me Megan C Cups behind my back.”

Doug's jaw went slack as he flushed. “How did you know about that?”

Megan raised her eyebrows.

“All right, fine. Is that all?” Doug said.

“You think you can do these things for me?” Megan asked.

“Well, I may have to put the beatdown on a few people, but yeah. No problem,” Doug said casually.

“Don't beat down anybody,” Megan said.

“Don't tell me how to do my job,” Doug said, cracking his knuckles comically.

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