Trouble from the Start (21 page)

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Fletcher stared out at the water.

“You don't have to decide tonight,” I told him. “Just know that I'm a no-kiss zone as long as you're seeing other girls.”

He faced me. “I guess that means no kiss for the road.”

“No kiss for the road. But I will hold your hand if you want to walk me to the car.”

He wrapped his hand around mine and we headed
back toward the dunes. It wasn't a lot, but I couldn't help thinking that maybe it was a start.

The next afternoon, after lunch, I was basking in a lounge chair by the pool. Although my eyes were closed, I was aware of a shadow crossing over my face, someone blocking out the sun. I expected to find Fletcher there. Instead, it was my dad.

“Your mother and I need to have a talk with you and Fletcher.”

My dad wasn't the sort who did a lot of joking around, but he sounded way too serious. As I got up and followed him into the house, several possibilities went through my head. That the kiss-cam had been posted to the Internet, gone viral, and my parents had seen it. That they knew about the walk I took with Fletcher along the beach last night. Or that maybe it went even further back than that. Maybe they found out about everything that had happened at Scooter's party.

When we walked into the den, I saw Fletcher standing beside Mom. I knew him well enough now to recognize the wariness in his eyes and I figured all the thoughts that had gone through my head had gone through his as well.

“Have a seat,” Dad ordered.

Fletcher and I sat on the couch. I resisted the urge to grab his hand, squeeze it in reassurance as we faced
together whatever horrible thing had come to pass that had brought us to this moment.

“As you know,” Dad began, “on Wednesday, your mom and I will be celebrating twenty years of marriage.”

I blinked, looked at Fletcher, blinked again. I wasn't quite certain why this required a conversation—unless they were calling it quits after twenty years. In the back of my mind, I'd known their anniversary was coming, and I'd been vaguely aware that it was one of the ones that came with rules about the gift, but I hadn't gotten around to Googling it yet.

“I was going to surprise your mom and take her to New Orleans for a couple of days, starting Tuesday.”

She smiled, rubbed his shoulder.

“I'd made arrangements for your aunt Beth to come and watch you while we were away.”

“Oh, Dad, I don't need a babysitter. I'll be eighteen in August and I'm going to college.”

“I know, I know. But we were going to be gone for three nights—”

“What do you mean were going to be?” I asked.

“Something came up at work and Beth can't come.”

“Like I said, I don't need a babysitter. Fletcher could totally watch Tyler if I need to work.”

“The plan was to come back Friday morning.”

“Do it.”

Dad looked at Fletcher, studied me. “I was a kid once. I know that when parents are away, teens tend to party and go crazy, but you have Tyler to think about.”

“Dad.” I got up and walked over to him. “Go to New Orleans. We'll be fine here.”

He looked over my shoulder at Fletcher. “I expect you to be responsible.”

“I will,” Fletcher said, coming to his feet.

I could tell by his tone that he was a little offended. Not that I blamed him.

“No partying,” Dad continued, “no sex, no drinking—”

“We'll dehydrate if we don't drink,” I said.

Dad scowled at me. “You know what I mean. No booze.”

“Dad, you've always trusted me before. Why not now?”

“We've just never left you alone this long before,” Mom said.

“We'll be fine,” I assured her. “Go have some fun.”

Tuesday morning after they left—and after they'd provided a list of rules, reminders, and phone numbers—I drove Fletcher and Tyler to the grocery store so we could stock up. Because it was going to be unlimited junk food time for the three of us.

I knew there was a rule that those who eat healthy shop around the outer edge of the grocery store. We headed straight for the center and the three C's: cookies, chips, candy. We bought sodas and dips. Mom had left
some frozen dinners in the freezer with instructions for thawing and heating. She'd also left money for pizza. The pizza we would order, but I didn't see us cooking the dinners.

When we got home, I called Kendall to see if she and Jeremy wanted to join us for No Parents Night. I stressed heavily that only they were invited. We were not throwing a party. We were not welcoming other people.

Fletcher and I were opening the snacks, setting them out on the island. Tyler was our taste-tester. The key to success without having my parents around was to keep him occupied. I didn't want him missing them or whining for them. The last time they'd taken a night out together, Tyler had been afraid they were never coming back. He still had separation-anxiety issues sometimes.

It was odd, though, just having the three of us in the house. Or maybe the oddity was having Fletcher in the house without my parents around.

“I've gone off on field trips and taken trips with Kendall where I haven't seen my parents for days,” I began, “so it's not like I miss them. But I've never been here without them overnight.”

“Are you scared?” Fletcher asked as he came up behind me where I was stirring a package of ranch dip into sour cream. He moved my hair aside and pressed a kiss to the back of my neck. “Don't worry. I'll protect you.”

I turned in the circle of his arms until I was facing him. I placed my hands on his shoulders and said in a very low voice, “I'm a no-kiss zone, remember?”

“But that was just a harmless peck.”

Not so harmless when it shot pleasure through me and made my toes curl. I glanced quickly at Tyler who was absorbed in eating chips while playing a handheld game. I gave my attention back to Fletcher. “You know the rules.”

His gaze held mine. “I want to break them.”

My heart was pounding. “I deserve someone who follows them.”

He sighed. “Yeah, you do.”

“Okay, we brought munchies,” Kendall announced as she and Jeremy walked into the kitchen. “Oops, sorry.” She grimaced.

Fletcher reached for a chip, dipped it, and popped it into his mouth. “I was just taste-testing. Betty Crocker here was in the way.”

“Yeah, right. Should we come back later?” she asked.

I pointed at Tyler to indicate that she wasn't interrupting any making out because he was here. I wasn't exactly sure what she was interrupting. It was all bad timing.

“Hey, squirt, look who's here,” I said to Tyler. He was unusually quiet. Normally he welcomed anyone who came to the house.

He scrunched up his face. “I don't feel so good.”

“Probably ate too much candy. Come on, we're going out to the pool for a while.”

“Skinny-dipping, right?” Fletcher asked with ease. I thought I'd probably been misreading whatever he'd been trying to tell me.

I slapped playfully at his arm. “No.”

The guys took Tyler out to play in the pool while I helped Kendall unpack what she'd brought. Most of it was homemade: fudge, peanut butter-chocolate bars, chocolate chip cookies. She loved to bake, especially when she was stressed.

“This is a lot. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, just needed some time away from my mom. Maybe we could turn this into a sleepover.” She winked at me. “I told my mom we might be over here all night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Jeremy and I just haven't had a lot of time together lately. My mom is always at home. His parents are usually around. I cannot wait until we are off at college and each have a dorm room—”

“And a roommate,” I felt obligated to point out.

She groaned. “Yeah. Wish you and I were going to the same college. I'm going to miss you.”

“We won't be that far away,” I told her.

“I know, but it'll be weird. Anyway”—she spread out her hands—“we have a feast.”

The guys were playing some form of keep-away with a small inflatable beach ball. I thought the object was to keep it away from everyone except Tyler. Kendall and I stretched out on the lounge chairs.

“I'm afraid he's going to grow up believing that he can win at everything,” I said.

“Is that a bad thing?” Kendall asked.

“I don't know. It's just that you don't always win. You need to learn how to handle disappointment.”

“Life's harsh lessons,” she said. “Seems like they need to be put off as long as possible. Speaking of harsh lessons, what's the status of you and hotcakes? Did we interrupt something?”

“How could we have been doing anything? Tyler was at the island.”

“Absorbed in junk food. You're avoiding the question. If we were in a courtroom, you'd be a hostile witness.”

I laughed. “Oh my God, have you been spending time in a courtroom this summer?”

“A couple of hours. I knew Jeremy was going to be there. And he was right. It was
so
boring. Something about some terms in an agreement not being honored and the need for restitution. I nearly fell asleep and slipped off the bench. But then we went for lunch afterward and that made it worth it. But then being with him is always worth it. How about Fletcher?”

“How about Fletcher what?”

“Is it worth it to be with him?”

I watched him bouncing in the pool, the water sluicing over his skin. He went to toss the ball to Jeremy. It fell short. Tyler shrieked and laughed as he caught it. No way Fletcher hadn't deliberately given it to my brother.

“I like him, Kendall, but we're still working things out. He's not used to commitment.”

“Told you. Way back in the beginning. Commitment-phobe. You're going to get hurt.”

“I don't think he's afraid of commitment. I think the whole idea of it is just new to him.”

He of whom we were speaking glided over to the edge of the pool. “Come on in. The munchkin is killing us. We need some help.”

“Put more air under the ball,” I told him.

With a devilish grin, he placed his hands on the ground, lifted himself up—

And I knew he was coming for me. I jumped up, ran forward, catapulted myself over his head, brought my legs up, wrapped my arms tightly around them, forcing them closer to my chest, curled forward, and landed like a cannonball. Kendall joined us. We had a splash fight, girls against guys. In spite of my worries about Tyler never knowing what it was to lose, I declared his team the winner.

As the sun went down, we sat on the lounge chairs and
watched the fireflies. Tyler wanted to capture some, but I explained to him as I had before, they were meant to be free. He was curled against me. He was warm and I figured he'd had too much sun today.

After we went inside, we ordered pizza, scarfed it down, and played Candy Land until Tyler got bored with it, stretched out on the floor, and fell asleep. He'd wanted to stay up all night. I'd told him he could, but I'd known eventually he'd conk out. I remembered when I was younger, I'd thought the best thing in the world would be not to have to go to bed. I put a pillow beneath his head and draped an afghan over him. He'd be just as happy to wake up in the morning, realizing he hadn't technically gone to bed.

“So do you guys want to watch a movie?” I asked.

Fletcher was sitting on the couch. Kendall was curled on Jeremy's lap in one of the recliners. She looked at him. He shrugged. She nodded, turned her attention back to me.

“Listen, we're going to go,” she said quietly. “But if my mom should ask, I was here with you all night.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Uh, yeah,” she answered, somewhat sarcastically.

Jeremy lowered the footrest and they clambered out of the chair. “Thanks for all the food,” he said.

And the alibi
, which remained unsaid.

I followed them out to the entryway, aware that Fletcher was behind me.

At the door, Kendall hugged me. “Seriously, we just don't get enough alone time together, so . . .”

Yeah, so I was going to lie to her mother if she asked. But what were the odds of her asking? One in a gazillion. Because she'd have no reason to suspect her well-behaved daughter wasn't behaving. I didn't want to judge Kendall. I didn't have a boyfriend. I didn't know what it was like to want to spend every hour of every day with him and not be able to.

“Just be careful,” I whispered.

She smiled softly. “We will.”

They left. I closed and locked the door, and turned to Fletcher. “Want to watch a movie?”

Watching a movie was the very last thing that I wanted to do with Avery. But I understood her rules. Even respected them. I'd never had a girl set down conditions before. To be honest, I found it a little hot.

But then I found everything about her hot.

We sat beside each other on the couch. She put on some movie that had Sandra Bullock and the guy who played Green Lantern. Just based on the first couple of minutes, I knew I'd rather be watching
The Green Lantern
.

“I guess boyfriend types are supposed to sit through movies like this,” I said. Earlier I'd put my arm along the back of the couch. Now I took advantage of my positioning to toy with strands of her hair. They were so thick and silky. The only light in the room came from the
flickering TV. It illuminated her hair, made it look like moonbeams.

“It's better than shark-wielding tornadoes,” she said.

“Yeah, that is a pretty silly movie. Giant crocs is more believable.”

“Nothing in those movies is believable.”

“And what happens in these movies is?” I asked, pointing at the screen.

“Romance movies guarantee a happy ending.”

“There's a happy ending in monster flicks. The good guys always win out.”

“Yeah, after much blood and gore.”

I slipped my hand beneath the curtain of her hair and began kneading her neck. She didn't object, but kept her gaze on the movie. I darted a quick look at the munchkin. “Should I take him up to his bed?”

“He's fine where he is. He'll think it's an adventure that he slept on the floor.”

I couldn't remember being young enough to think something so simple was an adventure.

“So, this boyfriend thing,” I began. “What are the other rules?”

She shifted around until she was perpendicular to me, her lower leg pressed against my thigh. She had changed into a tank top after we went swimming. I skimmed my fingers up and down her bare arm.

“You have to share things with me,” she said.

I stilled, grinned. “I have something to share.” I leaned in—

She shoved me back. “Not a kiss. Nothing physical. Something personal. Tell me about your mom.”

What could I say to that? I barely remembered her. Made me feel like a jerk. But I could spout facts, which would probably make me seem like more of an ass. “She died when I was eight. Think it was cancer. Not sure. Just remember her being sick for a long time, not having any hair. My dad would never talk about it.”

She combed her fingers through my hair. I liked the way it felt.

“That had to be hard,” she said.

“I don't really remember. It makes me an ass, I know. Sometime after that my dad went all psycho.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Look, this is why I don't talk about all this stuff. I don't want your pity or your sympathy or your sad eyes.”

“Because you're so tough?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Sometimes life is rough. You get through it.”

Her gaze wandered over my face. I felt like she could see every bruise I ever sported.

“How did you meet my dad?” she asked.

“Are we going to do twenty questions again?”

“This will be the last one.”

I sighed. I hated answering questions. Probably the reason that I hated taking tests. They were nothing but questions.

“Met him when I got caught stealing some stuff from a convenience store a few years back.”

She didn't seem surprised so she probably knew about my shoplifting, not that I thought her dad had told her. But the store hadn't been empty. Anyone could have been the snitch.

“What made you steal stuff?” she asked.

I was hungry. My dad had disappeared for a couple of weeks. I didn't have any money. Not that I was going to tell her that. I didn't want to see the puppy dog look again. Which I figured made me awful boyfriend material. “Why do you think? I wanted it.”

“What did you take?”

Twinkies, peanut butter crackers, M&M's. “Can't even remember now.”

“I shoplifted once,” she said with her usual straightforwardness.

I wasn't expecting that. “You're kidding?”

“Nope. A pack of gum. Mom doesn't believe in chewing gum. I was about six. I waited until she put me to bed, then I snuck it out of its hiding place, and chewed the whole pack. Don't know how I got all of it in my mouth, but I did. I
was still chewing it when I fell asleep. And when I woke up in the morning it was all in my hair.”

I stared at her. “What did you do?”

“What could I do? I took scissors to it.” She shook her head. “I looked like a freak. She made me go to school with my hair sticking out all over the place. There was still gum in it. Which Kendall, thankfully, cut out during recess. You know, with those little paper scissors that don't really cut well. Then she decided to play beautician, and I ended up with bald spots.”

I wanted to laugh, but I imagined this little kid paying for her crime in such a public way.

“After school, Mom took me back to the store. I had to apologize to the owner and pay for the gum with my tooth fairy money, which I had been saving for Disney World. Then Mom took me to her stylist to see if she could do anything with my hair, so it got cut even shorter. That was my last foray into crime.”

I skimmed my knuckles along her cheek. “I thought you were born obeying the rules.”

“No, but I learned pretty early on that disobeying them came with consequences. Never chewed gum again. Not even when I played softball my sophomore year.”

“I watched you play,” I said, and wondered why I'd confessed that.

“You were just checking out the girls.”

“Yeah.” But she was the only one I remembered. “So maybe I'm thinking about not checking out other girls anymore.”

“How seriously are you thinking about it?”

“Pretty seriously.” I cupped my hand around the back of her head. “Really seriously.”

I leaned in—

“Avery?” a little voice whined.

Not now, munchkin,
I thought.
Not now.

Avery waited. The voice came again. She unfolded that long, slender body of hers and went over to where her brother was stretched out on the floor. He'd kicked off the afghan.

“Hey, squirt,” she said. “Ready to go to bed?”

“Don't . . . feel good.”

“Told you not to eat all that junk. You'll be fine in the morning. Let's go on upstairs.”

“I'll get him,” I said as she started to lift him.

Then she put him back down and looked up at me. “He's burning up. Watch him. I'm going to get the thermometer.”

“How can he be burning up? He was fine earlier.”

“I know,” was all she said before dashing out of the room. I crouched down, touched the kid's forehead. Even to me, he felt way too hot.

“I want Mommy,” he murmured in a sad way.

“She's not here, but you have me and Avery.”

She came back and took his temperature. “Hundred and four,” she announced. “I'm taking him to the emergency room.”

“I'm going with you.”